UNIVERSAL. HISTORY.








FROM THE
CREATION OF THE WORLD
TO THE
BEGINNING OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
BY THE LATE
HON. ALEXANDER FRASER TYTLER,
LORD WOODHOUSELEE,
EXNATOR OF THE COLLEGE OF JUSTICE, AND LORD COMMISSIONER OF
JUSTICIARY IN SCOTLAND, AND FORMERLY PROFESSOR OF CIVIL
HISTORY, AND GREEK AND ROMAN ANTIQUITIES, IN
THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
BOSTON:
FETRIDGE AND  COMPANY.
1854.








ADVERTISEMENT.
THIs work on Universal History comprehends the whole course
of Lectures on that subject delivered by the Author, while Professor of Civil History and Greek and Roman Antiquities in the
University of Edinburgh.  The work entitled ELEMENTS OF
HISTORY, by the same author, was, originally, merely the heads
or outlines of this course of lectures.  It was afterwards enlarged
so as to form a Syllabus to the general reader of history; and
has been so favorably received by the public as to go through
numerous,editions in this country, and also in America; and to
have been adopted as a manual in not a few Universities.
The complete work is now, for the first time, given to the
public.  The,preparation of it for the press was the last of the
literary labors of its distinguished Author. Nor did he live to
complete it; but the constant attention of thirty years, and its
annual revision during the greater part of that period, had left
Yttle to its Editor.                            W. F. T.
LoN'SON, January, 1834.








CONTENTS.
BOOK TIlE FIRST.
CHAPTER I.
Various plans of historical prelections-Chronological mnethod —Methdd of
treating history as subservient only to the science of politics-PPlan of the
present woikl-Division by epochs rejected, and why-A predominant nation
always the principal object-Ancient history-Greece-Collateral objects,
Egypt, Phcenicia, &c.-Views -of government, science, arts, &c.-Rome, its
collateral and incidental objects of history-Decline of the empire-Gothic
nations-Modern history-Saracens-Charlemagne-;-Laws, &c.-bf that age
-Britain-Continental European kingdoms-Crusades-Russia, Switzerland
-Fall of Eastern empire-Mloors-Portuguese discoveries-The Reformation-Asia-India-Revolt of the Netherlands-Age of Henry IV. and Elizabeth-Revolution anid close of British -history-Spain-France-SwedenAge of Louis XIV.-Charles XII.-Peter the Great-Conclusion-Progress
of Science and Literature in Europe.
"CHAPTER  II.
Earliest Ages of the World-Early History of Assyria-Of Egypt-Invasion
of the Shepherd Kings.                                             15.  5
CHAPTER III.
On the nature of the first Governments, and on the Manners and Customs,
Laws, Arts, and Sciences of the early Nations....   19
CHAPTER IV.
-OF THE EGYP'IANs-Early Civilization-Inundation of the Nile-Government-Laws- -Manners-Arts-Obelisks and Pyramids-Sciences-Philosophical Opinions-Character..                                       34
CHAPTER V.
OF THE P0I;NICIANS - Alphabetic Writing- Sanchoniatho - NavigationTyre..  * ~.                                                48




CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VI.
TaIE GRECLAN HISTORY —Earliest period of the History of Greece-The
Titans-Cecrops-Chronicle of Paros-Areopagus-Deluge of Deucalion —.
Council of the Amphictyons-Cadmus-Introduction of Letters...   51
CHAPTER Vii.
Reflections on the first and rudest periods of the Grecian History-Extreme
Barbarism of the Aborigines-Circumstances which retarded CivilizationOrigin of the Greek Theology-Uncertainty of Mythological ResearchesSuperstitious Character of the Greeks-Oracles-Games-Effects of them
on the National Character.                                            58
CI-H APTEiR  VIII.
Early period of the Greek history continued-Earliest state of agriculture in
Greece-Erectheus institutes the Eleusinian Mysteries-Obtains the sovereignty of Attica  Theseus unites tile cities of Attica-This the age oi trhe
mnarvellous-End of that period-Expedition of the Argonauts-Course of
thieir voyage-The solstitial and equinoctial points fixed by Chiron-This
the foundation of Sir Isaac Newton's chronology-Twofold proof on which
it rests-Progress of maritimne affairs in Greece-State of the military art~War of Thebes-War of the Epiglonoei —War of Troy-Ancient system of
warfare-The tactic or arrangement of their troops-Subsistence of the
armies-Arms —The war of tihe Heraclidte-Change of government in Greece
-Commencement of the democracy oiAthens-Origin of the Greek colonies
-Causes of their rapid advancement.                                   67
CH APTER IX.
TIIF, RE:UBLIC OF L.ACEDEM.ION —Origin  Divided Sovereignty-Brown's
Theory of the Spartan Constitution examined-Refortm of Lycurgus-Senate
— Limitation of the Kingly Power-Regulation of iManners-Equal Partition
of Land among all the Citizens-Iron Money —Arts prohibited and confined
to Slaves-Public Tables-Education-Defects of the System of Lycurgus
-Its effects on Manners-Theft authorized-Cruelty-Idleness-Creation
of the Ephori........ 
CH- APTER  X.
TIlE REPUBLIC  or ATHEN-S-Revolution in the States of Attica —Rega
Government abolished - Perpetual Archong - Draco - Solon - His Institutions-Senate-Areopagus re-established-Power of the Populpr Assemblies
-Laws-Ostracism-Appeu l from all Courts to the People-Manners-Revenue-Grecian History continued, Pisistratus, Hippias, and HipparchusAlcmeonide...                           ~..... 
CH-IAPTER XI.
ORIGIN OF THE PERSIAN MONARCHY —End of the first Assyrian Empire-Era
of Nabonassar-Monarchy of the Medes; Dejocesj Phraortes, Cyaxares,




CONTENTS.                               vii
Nobopolassar —Nabuchodonozor II.-'Captivity of the JewN s-Cyrus the elder
-Cambyses —Darius, son of Ifystaspes —Conquest of Babylon-His War
against the Scythians-His conquest of  India-Government, Customs, and
Manners of the Persians-Education of their Princes-General Education
of the Persian Youthl-National Character of the Persians-IMilitary Char~
acter-Government-Administration of Justice-Religion of the Ancient
Persians-Zoroaster; Uncertainty of his History-The Second ZoroasterTranslation of the Zendavesta by Anquetil-Cosmogony of the' Zendavesta
-Manicheism —Practical and Mlorel parts of the Persian Religion-The
Sadder-Change in the Manners of the Persians —State of Greece at the
time of the Persian War..113
BOOK THE SECOND.
CHAP TER.
EHISTOsRY OF GREnCE, coritinued-Origin and cause of the WatR wrTIr PERsIA
-Commencement of hostilities-Battle of gMarathon-IMiltiades-Aristides
-Themistocles-Invasion of Greece by Xerxes-Banishllment of AristidesThermopyl — Salamis-Pl3atma and Mycale-Disunion of the Greeks-Cimon
-Pericles-Decline of the patriotic spirit.
CHAPTER I.
Administration of Pericles-Peloponnesian War —Siege of Platma-Alcibiades
-Lysander —The Thirty Tyrants-Thrasybulus-Death of Socrats-Retreat of the Ten Thousand-War with Persia terminated by the Peace of
Antalcidas...                                                      143
CHAPT'ER  I11.
REPUnLIC OF TmnEBEs-Pe! opidas and Epaminondas-3Battle of L.euctra-of
Miantinea-General Peace and its consequences-Philip of Y'f{cedon-The
Sacred War-Demnosthenes-Battle of CGhlronea-Designs of )P'hilip against
Persia-His deathll....  161
C IAPTER  IV.
ALEXANDER TI-E GRPFAT takes and destroys Thebes-Submission:,t the Grecian States-Alexarnder declared General of thle Armies of Grc -ce-Battle
of the Granicus-Issus-Siege of Tyre-Expedition into Egypt-Battle of
Arbela-Alexander at Persepolis-Expedition to India-Return to Susa —
Enters Babylon, and dies —Division of his Emxpire-Kingdom of Egypt-of.
Syria.......     177
CIJIAPTER  V.
Flourishing state of Egypt under the Ptolemies —Greece after the death oi
Alexander-Achaian league-Revolution at Lacednamon —Ambitious designs
of Philip II. of Macedon draw on him the vengeance of the Romans —-Their
aid' solicited b- the Atolians-Macedon conquered-Greece becomes a Roman province...                              198




viii                         CONTENTS
CHAPTER VI.
Political reflections arising from the history of Greece-Retrospective viewConstitutional defects in the.eading republics-A pure democracy is a chimera-All government essentially of the nature of a monarchy-Error of
Montesquieu's theory-Ferguson's idea of a perfect republic-iDemocracy
unfavorable to patriotism-Danger of generalizing in politics-A rude state
of society favorable to patriotism-Greece a strong instance of this-Character of Greece after the Roman conquest.                            213
C HA P T.l i-    f  I.
The Greeks not eminent in the Useful A rts-Commerce-Superiority in the
Fine Arts- Greek Architecture-Gothic Architecture-Sculpture-Inferiority of the Moderns-Greek religion favorable to Sculpture and PaintingGreek Painters...  223
CHAPTER VIII.
Public games of Greece-Effects on character-Manners-Poetical composition
anterior to prose - Homer —Hesiod-Archilochus-Terpander-SapphoPindar-Anacreon-The Greek epigram-The Greek comedy, distinguished
into the old, the middle, and the new-Aristophanes'-  Menander-Greek
tragedy-YEschylus-Euripides-Sophocles-Mode of dramatic representation-The ancient drama set to music-The Mimes and Pantomimes-Of the
Greek  historians-Herodotus-Thucydides-Xenophonl-Polybius-Diodorus Siculus-Dion'ysius of Halicarnassus-Arrian-Plutarch..      237
C HAPT ER  IX.
GREEK: PHLIOSOPrIY -Ionic Sect-Thales-Anaximander-Anaximenes-Anaxagoras-Italic Sect-Pythagoras-Empedocles, &c. —Eleatic Sect-Zeno
-Leucippus-Democritus —Heraclitus-Socrates-Cyrenaic Sect-Aristippus - Cynics - Diogenes - Megaric Sect-Plato-Peripatetics-AristotleSceptics-Pyrrho-Stoics-Epicureans-Reflections...          260
BOOK THE THIRD
CHAPTER I.
THE RoMxN HISTORy-Earliest Periods of the History of Rome —EtruscansFoundation of Rome —Disputed accounts of-Romulus-Rape of the Sabines
-Origin of the Political Institutions of the Romans-Union with the Sabines
-Numa —His Institutions-Tullres Ilostilius-Ancus Martius-Tarquinius
Priscus....
CHAPTER  II.
SERVIUS TULLIUS, sixth King of Rome-His Political Talents-Artful division
of. the People into Cl asses and Centuries-The Census-Lustrum —Tarqui




CONTENTS.                              IX
nius Superbus-End of the Regal government-Reflections on this Period
-Constitution of the Senate-Narrow Territory of the State —Exaggerated
Accounts of its Military Force-Uncertainty of its Early History..'97
CHAPTER III.
Interregnum-Consuls appointed with sovereign power —Conspiracy against
the new Government-Patriotism of Brutus-Valerian Law —War with Porsena-Popular disturbances-Debts of the Poor-A  Dictator appointedImpolitic conduct of the Patricians-Their Concessions-Tribunes of the
People created2-Change in the Constitution-Reflections on..    308
CHAPTER IV.
Increase bf the power of the Tribunes — They convoke an assembly of the People-Coriolanus-Disputes on the AgrarianA Law —Law of Volero - and
change produced by it..                                           319
CHAPTER V.
An Agrarian Law never seriously projected-Decemviri proposed to digest a
Code of Laws - Cincinnatus - Appointment of Decemvirs - Laws of the
Twelve Tables-Tyranny of the Decemvirs-Infamous conduct of Appius
Claudius-Death of Virginia-Abolition of the Decemvirate...  326
CHAPTER Vl.
Law against intermarriage of Patricians and Plebeians repealed-Military Tn
bunes created-Creation of Censors-Their high powers of office-A regular
pay assigned to the Army introduces a new balance into the ConstitutionConsequences of-Siege of Veii-Romans begin to extend their conquests.Reflections on the state of the Republic at this period-War with the Gauls
-Its fabulous aspect-New popular LaWts-Institution of the office of Prwtor
-— of Questor-of _Edile-Licinian law limiting property in land..  339
CHAPTER VII.
ROMAN HisroTRY continued-War with the Samnites-Devotion of DeciusDisgrace of the Caudine Forks-Popular pretensions increase-The Plebeians
admitted to the Priesthood-War with Pyrrhus, King of Epirus-His Defeat
-Conquest of all Italy by the Romans-Incorporation of the conquered Nations-Manner in which the Rights of Citizenship were extended.  4.  352
CHAPTER VIII.
CARTHAGE, a Phcenician Colony-Early History-Government-Wars-Early
History of Sicily —Syracusan Government-Dionysius the Elder-Dionysius
the Younger-Dion-Timoleon-Agathocles-Character of the Carthaginians
and Romans compared..                                             f  )7
CHAPTER IX.
FIRST PUNIc WAR-First Naval Victory of the Romans-Invasion of AfricaRegulus-Termination of the War-SEcOND PuNic WAn-lHannibal passes
R




X  CONTIrETS':
the Alps-His victories in Italy-Battle of Cannue-Hannibal winters in
Capua-Siege of Syracuse-defended by Archimedes-Battle of Zama-and
end of Second Punic War-Defeat of Philip II. of Macedon-of Antiochus,
king of Syria-Cato the Censor-Accusation of Scipio Africanus —His character-Scipio Asiaticus-War with Perseus and reduction of MacedoniaTHIRD PUNIC WAR, AND DESTRUCTION OF CARTHAGE.                        367
BOOK THE FOURTH.
CHAPTER I.
Sedition of the Gracchi-Cornelia, mother of the Gracchi-Criminal ambition
of' Jugurtha —The Romans declare war against him, under iletellus and Marius-Death of Jugurtha-Invasion of the Cimbri —Progress of corruption
in the Republic-Livius Drusus's projects of Reform-The Social War-Origin of the civil War —Pivalsehip of Darius and Sylla-War with iMithridates
-Marius and Cinna —SylTa obtains absolute authority-His proscriptionsHis salutary Reforms-1-1ha resigns the Dictatorship-Lepidus defeated and
slain-Pompey distinguishes himself-Lucullus's war against MithridatesIHe is superseded by Pompey-Conspiracy of Catiline-Extent of the design
-Punishment of the Conspirators-Catiline is killed in battle-Ambitious
designs of Julius Casar-First triumvirate-Agrarian Law-Cesar's increase
of power-His design for the removal of Cicero-Cicero's pusillanimous conduct-He goes into Exile-I-is Estates confiscated —Cesar's Military Exploits in Gaul —Pompey procures the recall of Cicero-Death of Crassus, and
rivalship of Pompey and Cusar.                                       385
CHAPTER IL.
Caesar passes the Rubicon-Marches to Rome-Named Dictator-Battle of
Pharsalia Flight and Death of Pompey-Defeat of Pharnaces-Death of
Cato-Cmsar's Reforms in the Roman State-Reform of the Calendar-Is
created perpetual Dictator with the title of Imperator-Character of CaesarIs assassinated-Artful conduct of Mark Antony-His ambitious viewsSecond Triumvirate-Bloody Proscription-Death of Cicero-Battle of Philippi, and End of the Republic-Battle of Actium-Death of Antony and
Cleopatra-Octavius (afterwards Augustus) sole master of the Roman Empire...    400
CHAPTER III.
On the Genius and National Character of the Romans-System of Roman Education-Progress of Literature-The Drama-Historians-Poets..  421
C    A P T E R  IV.
Roman Philosophy-Public and Private Manners...  437
CHAPTER V.
On the Art of War among the Romans....      451




CONTENTS.                             Xi
CHAPTER VI.
Reflections arising from a view of the Roman History during the Common.
wealth......                                    ~              4.  163
BOOK THE FIFTH.
CHAPTER  I.
Fate of the Roman Republic decided by the Battle of Actium-Relgn of Augustus-Birth of our Saviour JEsus  CHRIST —Tiberius - Crucifixion of
our Saviour-Caligula-Claudius —Nero-Galba-Otho-Vitellius-Vespasian-Titus —Domitian-Nerva-Trajan-Adrian.                        475
CHAPTER  IL.
Age of the Antonines-Commodus-Pertinax-The Prwetorian Guards sell the
Empire by auction-Four Emperors proclaimed-Severus marches to Rome
and disbands the Pratorian Guards-War in Britain-Severus dies at York
-Caracalla-Disorders in the Empire continue till the Reign of DiocletianConstantine-His zeal for Christianity....  49
CHAPTER III.
Change in the System of Policy and Government introduced by ConstantinePretorian Prefects-Proconsuls-Counts and Dukes-Taxes-Free Gifts —
Seat of Empire translated to Constantinople-Division of the EmpireJulian-His artful Hostility to Christianity —Jovian-Valentinian-Irruptions of the Goths -.. Of the Huns-Valens-Gratian-Theodosius —Valentinian the Second. D.                                            511








UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
BOOK THE FIRST.
CHAPTER I.
Various plans of historical prelections-Chronological method-Method of
treating history as subservient only to the science of politics-Plan of the
present work-Division by epochs rejected, and why-a predominant nation
always the principal object-Ancient history-Greece-Collateral objects,
Egypt, Phcenicia, &c.-Views of government, science, arts, &c.-Rome, its
collateral and incidental objects of history-Decline of the empire-Gothic
nations-Modern history-Saracens-Charlemagne-Laws, &c. of that age
-Britain-Continental European kingdoms-Crusades-Russia, Switzerland
-Fall of Eastern empire-Moors-Portuguese discoveries-The Reformation-Asia-India-Revolt of the Netherlands-Age of Henry IV. and Elizabeth-Revolution and close of British history-Spain-France-SwedenAge of Louis XIV.-Charles XII.-Peter the Great-Conclusion-Progress
of Science and Literature in Europe.
INGENIOUS men, whose department in the course of education,
both in the foreign universities and in our own, was the science of
universal history, have followed different methods or plans of historical prelections.  Ihn some of the universities of the Continent,
the Epitome of Turselline has been used as a text-book, on which
the lectures of the professor were an extended commentary, giving
considerable amplitude, and consequently illustration, to what is
little more than a dry, though a very perspicuous chronicle of
events, from the creation of the world to the end of the seventeenth
century.  Such were the lectures of Peter Burman, who for mai
years sustained a high reputation as Professor of History at Utrecht;
and such were likewise the prelections of Professor Mackie, in the
University of Edinburgh. They were composed in the Latin language, which, down to the middle of the 18th century, was the
universal vehicle of academical instruction; an institution which,
although attended with one important benefit, namely, the support
and diffusion of classical learning, has perhaps been wisely laid
aside as unfavorable to the ample and copious illustration of a
VOL. I.               1




12                   UNIVERSAL HISTORYe.            1B00K
science which cannot easily be given'but in the vernacular tongue.
The lectures on the Epitome of Turselline, which I have men
tioned, were, therefore, as might be expected, little more than a
dry narration of facts.  If, in order to derive profit from history,
nothing more were necessary than that the memory should be stored with all the remarkable events that have occurred from the Creation to the present time, properly arranged in the order in which
they happened, there could be no better book than the Epitome
of Turselline, or the more enlarged Rationarium of Petavius.
But books of this kind, and illustrations of such authors, when they
are nothing more than amplifications of their text, have neither the
charms of history nor its utility. As they contain no display of
character, nor any spirit of reflection, they are incapable of either
exciting the feelings, animating the curiosity, or stimulating the
powers of the understanding: and without these qualities, they
want even the power of impressing the memory; for where the
attention is not vigorously kept awake, either by the excitement
of some passion, or the stimulus of a rational curiosity, exercised
In developing the springs and consequences of events, we listen
with indifference even to the most orderly and perspicuous narration, and no durable impression is made upon the mind.
Aware of these obvious consequences, and sensible that historical prelections on a plan of this kind were inadequate to the purpose of conveying useful knowledge or improvement, some professors, of acknowledged abilities, have in the instruction of their
pupils pursued a method entirely opposite. They have considered
history in no other light than as furnishing documents and proofs
illustrative of the science of politics and the law of nations.  In
this view, laying down a.regular system of political science, their
historical lectures were no other than disquisitions on the several
heads or titles of public law, illustrated by examples drawn firom
ancient and modern history.
By this latter method, it is not to be denied that much useful
knowledge may be communicated; and where the professed object is the study of politics, or that instruction which is commonly
termed diplomatic, it is the proper plan to be pursued.  But he
study of history, and that of politics, though closely allied to each
other, and kindred sciences, are still different branches of mental
discipline; the one preparatory and subservient to the other.  The
*tudent of politics or public law is presumed to have that previous
acquaintance with history which it is the object of a course of
historical study to communicate; and without such acquaintance
his study of politics will be altogether idle and fruitless.  A little
reflection will suffice to convince us that it is not possible, in the
most ample and judicious course of lectures on history, to convey
such a knowledge of political economy as may be communicated
in a course of prelections on that science; for this plain reason,
that in lectures on history, politics cannot be treated as a regular




CH. I.]              PLAN OF THIS WORK.                      3
and connected system. But much less is it possible in a course
of prelections on political economy to conmmnunicate to the student
a sufficient knowledge of history: for in such prelections, history
must lose all connection whatever, and become n thing else than a
magazine of facts, taken at random from the annals of all different
nations, without regard to time or the order of events, but selected
merely as they happen to furnish a convenient illustration.  In
this way, we see but imperfectly that chain which joins effects to
their causes; we lose all view of the. gradual progress of manners,
the advancement of man from barbarism to civilization, and thence
to refinement and corruption; we see nothing of the connection of
states and empires, or the mutual influence which they have upon
each other; above all, we lose entirely the best benefit of history,
its utility as a school of morals.
As the two plans I have mentioned are in a manner opposite
extremes-the one possessing nothing but method, without any
reflection; the other a great deal of reflection, but without method
-it has been my endeavor, in the following Commentaries on
Universal History, to steer a middle course, and by endeavoring
to remedy the imperfection of either method, to unite, if possible,
the advantages of both.
While, therefore, so much regard is paid to the chronological
order of events as is necessary for exhibiting the progress of mankind in society, and communicating just views of the state of the
world in all the different ages to which authentic history extends,
I shall, in the delineation of the rise and fall of empires, and the
revolutions of states, pay more attention to the connection of sub
ject than that of time.
In this view, I shall reject entirely the common method of
arranging general history according to certain epochs or eras;'and
this, as I conceive, upon sufficient grounds.  The arguments commonly used for this method of arrangement are, 1. The great help
it affords to the memory for fixing the chronological dates of
remarkable events in the history of any particular nation; and
2. The assistance which these epochs give to the mind, towards
forming distinct ideas of all that is passing at the same period of
time through all the different states or. kingdoms.  The first of
these arguments supposes the epochs to be taken chiefly from the
history of a single nation; as those of the Bishop of Meaux (M.
Bossuet) in his Discours sur 1' Histoire Universelle, an admirable
work of its peculiar kind, and which justly maintains a great reputation.  In this luminous epitome, the history of all the different
states and kingdoms is arranged according to some remarkable
events taken, for the greatest part, from the History of the Jews.
The second argument supposes the epochs taken from the history
of different nations, and to be such remarkable events as had a
general influence on mankind, or an effect upon the state of society,
over a considerable portion of the globe.  Such are the epochs




4                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOor A
assumed by M. Mehegan in his Tableau de'l Histoire Universelle; or those of the ~bbe.Millot, in his Elemens de 1' Histoire
Generale.
With regard tb the former of these methods, namely, that of M.
Bossuet, there can be no doubt, that by calling the attention particularly to a few great and striking events in the history of any
nation, the precise date of these great events may be very easily impressed upon the memory. They serve as great landmarks, and
the mind easily recollects their place and the time of their erection;
but this is nearly all the benefit we derive from them.  They
afford no help towards fixing the dates, or even the order and succession of the intermediate events, many of which may be highly
important, and equally deserving of remembrance as the epoc h
itself.  Nay, there is even a probability that the recollection of
those epochs may tend to confound the chronological order of the
intermediate events,, by referring them all to one common era
which alone is fixed upon the memory: But, to remember the
order and regular succession of events, is all that is of use or importance in chronological history.  It is a matter of small importance to record in the mind the precise date of any remarkable fact
as it stands in a table of chronology.  If actions and events preserve in the mind their due series and relation to each other, a
critical accuracy with respect to the years of the Julian period in
which they happened, or the precise Olympiad, is mere,, useless
pedantry.
The history of the Jews is of the greatest importance, as being
the venerable basis of the Christain religion.  It is therefore deserving of the most profound and attentive study.  But the Jews,
during the chief periods of their history, were a small and sequestered people, whose annals record only their connections, or their
hostile differences with the petty tribes which surrounded them, or
the nations in their immediate neighborhood.  It was therefore
injudicious in M. Bossuet, whose object was to exhibit a view of
universal history, to make this nation the great and prominent
group in his painting of the world, to which all the other parts of
his extensive picture were subordinate.  In the selection of many
of his epochs-as for instance, the Calling of Abraham, the Promulgation of the Law by Moses, and the Building of Solomon's
Temple-he affords us no assistance in the arrangement of events
in the great empires of antiquity, with which the Jews in those
remote periods had no connection.
The epochs of Mehegan' and of Millot, if considered only as
sections or divisions of the subject, are chosen with sufficient propriety.  Thus the Roman history is divided by Millot into severa.
epochs, as the Kings-the Consuls-the Tribunes of the People
-the  Decemvirs- Rome taken by the Gauls-the war Ewith
Pyrrhus, &c. Such an arrangement is well adapted to the history
of a single nation, and it may afford some little aid to the recollec




en. I.j              PLAN OF THIS WORK                      6
tion of intermediate' events in the annals of that nation: but where
the object is a delineation of general history, or of all that is passIng in the world at the same period of time, this method has not
the same advantage.  Thus, for example, in the Tableau de
l'Histoire Jlioderne of Mehegan, the seventh epoch is Christopher
Columbus, 1492, being the date of his discovery of America.
The next epoch is th6 peace of Westphalia, between France,
Sweden, and the Empire, in 1648. Supposing these epochs to
be easily remembered, it may be asked what help they afford
towards the recollection of the dates of any of the intermediate
events in this interval of one hundred and fifty-six years, or of the
order in which they succeeded each other.  Yet some of these
were among the most remarkable that have occurred in the annals
of the world: for instance, the Reformation in Germany and England —the Revolt of the Netherlands, and the Establishment of
the Republic of the United Provinces-the Edict of Nantes,
giving toleration to the Protestants in France-the Expulsion of
the Moors from  Spain.  The recollection that the discovery of
America happened in 1492, affords no help to the remembrance
of the time of the Reformation, nor tends to fix in the memory
whether the expulsion of the Moors preceded or followed the
revolution of the Netherlands. The classing of these unconnected
events under one general epoch, tends only to a conffised reference
of them all to one date, although, between them, there was almost
a century of difference of time.
Besides, in every method of classification, there ought to be a
relation between the objects classified, which the mind at once
perceives, so that the idea of the one naturally leads to or suggests
that of the other.  Now such connection it is evident there cannot
be in such an arrangement, where the events happening in a certain
period of time over the whole globe, are all referred to one event
that happened in the first year of that period, in one particular
nation.
The division of Universal History into epochs, goes upon this
idea, that a comprehensive picture is to be presented to the view
of all the remarkable events and actions which were going forward
upon the face of the earth at the same period of time. Now, a
picture of this kind, if equal justice is done to every part of it,
would present a most confused and uninstructive composition.  In
order to preserve the strict chronological order, many of the most
important public events which are progressive, and of considerable
duration, must be interrupted, almost in their commencement, or
in the middle of their progress; and the attention carried off to an
infinite variety of different objects and scenes, totally unconnected
With each other.  Thus, M. Bossuet makes no scruple to transport
his reader in a single sentence from Jerusalem to Lacedamon,
from the atrocities of Jehu in exterminating the royal house of'
Judah, and the criminal usurpation of Athaliah, to the foundation




6                       JUNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK X
of the Spartan republic, and the politic plans of Lycurgus; and1
with equal impropriety, he hurries back the reader in the next
sentence to the conclusion of the history of Athaliah, the punishment of her crimes, and the restoration of Joas, king of Judah, to
the throne of his ancestors.
But what are the advantages of this strict chronological order,
that we must sacrifice so much to it?  Order is beautiful, but it is
no otherwise so than as subservient to utility; and a whimsical
order confounds, instead of elucidating.  We certainly make a bad
exchange, if we lose all ideas of a connected history of any single
nation, and all the important lessons which arise from  remarking
the progress of events, and the chain which links them with their
causes, for the sake of a forced association of events happening
in distant nations, which have no other connection than that of
time.
I shall now briefly lay down that Sian which I propose to follow
in these Commentaries on Universal History.
When the world is viewed at any period, either of ancient or of
modern history, we generally observe one nation or empire pre
dominant, to whom all the rest bear, as it were, an underpart, and
to whose history we find, in general, that the principal events in
other nations may be referred from some natural connection.
This predominant nation I propose to exhibit to view as the
principal object, whose history, as being in reality, the most important, is therefore to be more fully delineated; while the rest,
as subordinate, are brought into view only when they come to
have an obvious connection with the principal.  The antecedent
history of such subordinate nations will then be traced in a short
retrospect of their own annals.  Such  collateral views, which
figure only as episodes, I shall endeavor so to regulate, as that they
shall have no hurtful effect in violating the unity of the principal
piece.
For the earliest periods of the history of the world, we have no
records of equal authority with the  Sacred  Scriptures.  They
ascend to a period antecedent to the formation of regular states or
communities, they are long prior to the authentic annals of the
profane nations,* and they are, therefore, our only lights on those
distant and dark ages of the infancy of the human race.
* Moses conducted th6 Israelites out of Egypt 1491 years before the birth of
Christ, according to the Chronology of Usher. Sanchoniatho, supposed the most
ancient of the profane writers, lived several years after the Trojan war (B. c.
1184;) and the fragments which pass under his name are of the most doubtful
authority. They were compiled, as Philo of Biblos informs us, from certain
ancient Ammonian records, which, amidst a great mass of fabulous and allegorical matter, contained, as was supposed, some historical facts, which Sanchonia.
tlio has extracted. Homer lived, as is believed, about a century later than
Sanchoniatho. Cadmus of Miletus, the first prose historian among the profane
writers, flourished under Cyrus, about 540 years before Christ.




Hc. I.]              PLAN OF THIS WORK.                      7:Among the profane nations of antiquity, that which first makes a
remarkable figure, and whose history at the same time has a claim
to be regarded as authentic, is the states of Greece.  They therefore demand a peculiar attention, and it is of importance to trace
their history to its origin.  But the Greeks were indebted for the
greatest part of their knowledge to the Egyptians and Phoenicians.
These, therefore, as relative to the leading nation, demand a portion of our attention, and naturally precede, or pave the way to,.he. history of the Greeks.  For a similar reason, the Assyrians, a
rival nation, conquered by the Egyptians at one time, and conquerors of them afterwards in their turn, (though their early history
is extremely dark and uncertain,) require likewise a share in our
observation.
The Greeks then come to fill up the whole of the picture, and
we endeavor to present an accurate delineation of their independent states, the singular constitution of the two great republics of
Sparta and Athens, and the outlines of their history, down to the
period of the Persian war, commenced by Darius, the son of
Hystaspes, and prosecuted under his successors Xerxes and Artaxerxes.  This connection naturally induces a short retrospect to
the preceding periods of the Persian history; the rise of that monarchy, the nature of its government, the manners of the people,
and the singular religion of the ancient Persians, which subsisted
without much adulteration for some thousands of years, and is still
kept alive among a particular sect at this day.
The conclusion of the Persian war brings us back to the internal
history of the states of Greece.  We observe the subjection of
Athens to the ambitious Pericles, and the seeds sown of the decline
of that illustrious republic. The divisions of Greece engage our
attention; the war of Peloponnesus; the corruption of the Spartan
constitution introduced by Lysander; the glory of Thebes under
Pelopidas and Epaminondas.  We consider now the ambitious
schemes of Philip of Macedon, the renewal of the war with Persia,
and the immense conquests of Alexander the Great.  We see, in
fine, the total corruption of the Greeks; the extinction of all public virtue; the last feeble remains of patriotism in the union of the
Achean states; and the final reduction and submission of Greece to
the arms of the Romans.
The history of this illustrious people, the Greeks, furnishes a
most ample field of reflection.  The policy and constitution of the
different states, particularly the two great and rival republics of
Athens and Lacedaemon, demand our attention, as singularly illustrative of ancient manners, and the wonderful" effects of habit and
discipline on the nature of man.  The causes which contributed to
the rise and decline of those commonwealths are, pregnant with
political instruction.  The change which the national character of
the Greeks in general underwent, is a striking circumstance in the
history of human nature, and will illustrate the influence of morals




8                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 LBOOK'
on political prosperity. Tilhe literary genius of this people, their
progress in philosophy, their eminence in the fine arts-in all of
which departments they became the models of imitation and the
instructers of the ancient world,-these subjects, furnishing much
matter of useful speculation, will be treated in separate short disqui.
sitions at the conclusion of the historical detail.
Hitherto the leading object of attention is the history of Greece,
to which, as may be observed, may be referred, by a natural connection, that of all the other nations whose history is in those
periods deserving of our acquaintance.
The conquest of Greece by the Romans entitles this latter nation
to rank as the principal object in the subsequent delineation of
ancient history. Without regard to the offence against chronology,
we now return back above four hundred years, to observe tile
origin and rise of this remarkable people.  We contemplate them
in their infancy; we observe the military character which they
derived from their incessant wars with the neighboring states of
Italy; the nature of their government and internal policy under
the kings; the easy revolution effected by the substitution of the
consular for the regal dignity, without any substantial change in
the constitution.  We next remark the causes of the subsequent
change; the people uniting themselves to resist the tyranny and
oppression of the patrician order; the advantages they gain by the
creation of the popular magistrates; the continual encroachments
they make on the powers and privileges of the higher order, till
they obtain an equal capacity of enjoying all the offices and dignities
of the comnmonwealth.
We now view the gradual extension of the Roman arms; the
conquest of all Italy; the origin of the wars with foreign nations;
the progress of the Punic wars, which open a collateral view of the
history of Carthage and of Sicily; we trace the success of the Rorman arms in Asia, Macedonia, and Greece, the opulence of the
relublic, from her conquests; and the corruption of her manners.
In fine, we behold the extinction of patriotism; the endless discords between the orders, loosening all the bands of public virtue;
the progress of faction and inordinate ambition, terminating in the
civil wars and ruin of the commonwealth.
At this remarkable period, which naturally allows a pause in the
historical detail, I shall devote some time to the examination-of
those particulars which are characteristic of the genius and national
spirit of the Romans; their system of education; their laws; their
literary character; their art of war; their knowledge in the arts and
sciences; their private and public manners; and their predominant
tastes and passions.  I shall close the remarks on the Roman
history during the commonwealth, with some political reflections
naturally arising from the subject, and illustrated by examples
drawn both from that history, and from the preceding account of
the states of Greecee




cII. I.]              PLAN OP THIS WORK.                       9
We then resume the outlines of the Roman history under the
emperors. We observe the specious policy under which they
disguise an absolute authority, till it is no longer necessary to keep
on the mask.  We remark the decline of the. ambitious character
of the Romans, and their easy submission to the entire loss of civil
liberty; the progress of corruption; the venality of the imperial
dignity; the mischievous though necessary policy of the emperors,
who, to secure their own power, industriously abased the military
spirit of the people; the effect of this ruinous policy in inviting
the barbarous nations to attack the frontiers of those extensive
dominions, which were now a languid'and unwieldy body without
internal vigor; the weakness of the empire still further increased
by its partition under Diocletian, and subdivision under his successors; the triumph of Christianity, and the extinction of paganism
in the age of Theodosius.
We mark now the progress of the barbarian nations, who attack
the provinces on every quarter, till the Western empire becomes
entirely their prey; Africa seized by the Vandals, Spain by the
Visigoths, Gaul by the Franks, Britain by the Saxons; Rome and
Italy itself by the Herulians, and afterwards by the Ostrogoths.
We shall then observe, as the last flashes of an expiring lamp, a
short but vigorous exertion from the East, by the generals of Justinian; the temporary recovery of Italy; and its final reduction by
the Lombards.
At this period, of the fall of the Western empire, we are nat:urally invited to enter into some short inquiries regarding the manners, the genius, the laws, and government of the Gothic nations;
and the distinguishing characteristics of those northern invaders,
both before and after their establishment in the provinces of the
enmpire.
Thus, Ancient History will admit of a perspicuous delineation,
by making our principal object of attention the predominant states
of Greece and Rome, and incidentally touching on the most remarkable parts of the history of the subordinate nations of antiquity, when connected with, or relative to, the principal object.
In the delineation of Modern History, a similar plan will be
pursued.  The leading objects will be more various, and will more
frequently change their place: a nation at one time the principal,
may become for awhile subordinate, and afterwards reassume its
rank as principal; but uniformity of design will still characterize
this moving picture; the attention will always be directed to the
history of a predominant people; and other nations will be only
incidentally noticed, when there is a natural connection with the
principal object.
After the fall of the Western empire, the nation which first
distinguishes itself by its conquests, and the splendor of its domin-.on, is that of the Saracens.  The progress of the arms and of
the religion of Mahomet, the rise and extent of the empire of the
VOL I.. 




10                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY                [BOOK a
calilphs, are singular and interesting objects of attention.  The
Franks, though settled in Gaul before this period, do not attract
our notice till afterwards —when the foundation of the new empire
of the wvest by Charlemagne naturally engages us to look back to
the origin of their monarchy.  Thus we have briefly before us, in
one connected view, the progress of this remarkable people from
their infancy under Clovis, to their higest elevation under Charlemagne; and thence to the reduction and dismemberment of their
dominions under his weak posterity.
The age of Charlemagne furnishes some interesting matters of
inqriry with regard to laws, literature, manners, and government 
and we shall endeavor to trace the origin of that remarkable policy, the source (as has been justly said) both of the stability and
of the disorders of the kingdoms of Europe,-the feudal system.
The collateral objects of attention during this period are, the
still venerable remains of the Roman empire in the East; the
beginning of the conquests and establishments of the Normans;
the foundation and progress of the temporal dominion of the church
of Rome; the separation of the Greek and Latin churches; the
affairs of Italy, and the conquest of Spain by the Saracens.
WVe now direct our attention for the first tilne to the history of
Britain, postponed to this period, that we may consider it in one
connected view, from its rudest stage to the end of the AngloSaxon government.
As the history of our own country is of more importance to us
than that of any other, the British history, as often as it is resumed,
will be treated with greater amplitude than the limits of our plan
allow to other nations; and while we note the progress of manners, literature, and the arts, it shall be our endeavor, without
prejudice, to mark those circumstances which indicate the progress
of the constitution, its successive changes, and its advancement to
that system  of equal liberty under which we have the happiness
of' living.  We shall see in the Saxon FWittenagemot the rude
model of a parliament; and in the institutions of the English Alfred, we shall admire, in an age of barbarism, the genius of a great
politician and legislator.
While the history of Britain to the Conquest is the primary
object of attention, a collateral view is taken of the state of the
continental kingdoms of Europe.  France, under the first sovereigns of the Capetian race, presents us with very little that is
worthy of observation.  The Normans carry their arms into Italy,
and achieve the conquest of Sicily; while the maritime states of
Venice and Genoa, rising into consequence, become the commercial agents of most of the European kingdoms.  The dissensions
between the German emperors and the popes, and the gradual
increase of the temporal authority of the see of Rome, are not
unworthy of a particular attention.
The British history is again resumed as a principal object; and




CH I]                PLAN O0 THIS WOan.                     11
we pursue its great outlines from the Norman conquest to the
death of King John.  In the tyranny of William the Conqullleror,
and in the exorbitant weight of the crown during the reigns immediately succeeding, we shall observe the causes of that spirit of
union among the people; in their efforts to resist it, which procured for them those valuable charters, the foundation of our civil
liberty. Under the reign of the second Henry, we shall observe
a most important accession of territory to the English crown, in
the acquisition of the ancient and early civilized kingdom of Ireland.
At this period, the whole of the nations of Europe, as if' actuated by one spirit, join in the Crusades, a series of fatal and desperate enterprises, but which form  an important object of attention, from their effects in the formation of new  kingdoms, new
political arrangements, and a new system of manners.  We shall
trace with some care those effects in the changes of territorial
property in the feudal governments-in the immunities acquired
by towns and boroughs,, which had hitherto been tied down by a
species of vassalage to the nobles-and in the aggrandizement of
the maritime cities.  The moral as well as the political effects of
those enterprises must be particularly noticed; and we shall find a
subject of entertaining disquisition in tracing the origin' of chival
ry, and its consequences in the introduction of romantic fiction.
A short connected sketch of the European kingdoms, after the
crusades, naturally follows; in which a variety of interesting subjects solicit our attention:-the rise of the House of Austria; the
decline of the feudal government in France by the introduction of
the Third Estate to the national assemblies; the establishment of
the Swiss republics; the disorders in the popedom; and the me
morable transactions in the council of Constarce.
These'shortly considered, Britain again resumes her place as
the leading object of attention.  We remark the progress of the
English constitution under Henry III., when the deputies of the
boroughs were first admitted into parliament, the real date of the origin of the House of Commons: the strengthening of the liberties of
the people under Edward I. whose military enterprises, the conquest
of Wales, and the temporary reduction of Scotland, lead us, by an
easy connection, to the history of the latter kingdom.  We shall
here behold the many noble and successful struggles made by that
ancient nation for her freedom and independence, against the power
of the three first Edwards.  We consider the claim  of right preferred by Edward III. to the crown of France, equally ill-founded,
but more ably and gloriously sustained: and the multiplied triumphs
of the arms of England, till the kingdom of France itself is won by
Henry V.
We now turn our attention to the East, to remark an'interest
ing spectacle: the progress of the Ottoman arms retarded for a
while by the conquests of Tamerlane and Scanderbeg; but pros



*2                   UNIVERSAL HISTORYt              [BOOKR I'
ecuted under Mahomet the Great, to the total extinction of the
Greek or Constantinopolitan empire.  The manners, laws, and
government of the Turks, merit a share of our consideration.
Returning westward, we see France in this age emancipating
herself from  the feudal bondage; and the consequences of the
pretensions made by her sovereigns to a part of Italy.  These
pretensions, opposed by Ferdinand of Spain, naturally call our
attention to that quarter, where a most impqrtant political change
had been operated in the union of the sovereignties of Arragon
and Castile, and the fall of the Moorish kingdom of Granada.
Returning to Britain, while England is embroiled with the civil
wars of York and Lancaster, we pursue the great outlines of her
history down to the reign of Henry VIII., and the cotemporary
history of Scotland, during the reigns of the five Jameses.  At
this period, presenting a short delineation of the ancient constitution of the Scottish government, I shall endeavor to point out
those political principles  which  regulated the conduct of the
Scots with respect to their neighbors of England, and to foreign
nations.
The close of the fifteenth century is a most important era in
modern history.  The signal improvement of navigation by the
Portuguese, who opened to Europe the commerce of the Indiesthe rapid advancement of literature from the discovery of the art
of printing-and the revival of the fine arts-present a most extensive field of pleasing and instructive speculation.  We shall
mark the effect of the Portuguese discoveries in awakening the
spirit of enterprise, together with the industry, of all the European
nations; and shall here introduce a progressive account of the
commerce of Europe down to this era, when it was vigorously and
extensively promoted.  lWe shall in like manner exhibit a view
of the progress of European literature through the preceding ages
of comparative barbarism, to the splendor it attained at this
remarkable period.  The consideration of the progress of the
ine arts we postpone to the succeeding age of Leo X., when
they attained to their utmost perfection.
After a short survey of the northern states of Europe, which is
necessary for preserving the unity of the picture, the capital object
of attention is the aggrandizement of the House of Austria, under
Charles V.; intimately connected with the history of France under
Francis I.; and incidentally with that of England, under Henry
VIII.: a period meriting particular and attentive consideration
from two events of the utmost moral and political importance —
the reformation of religion in Germany and England, and the discovery of America.  On this period is likewise thrown an additional lustre'from the splendor of the fine arts in Italy.
After bestowing on these varied and interesting subjects the
attention which they merit, the state of Asia, which, from the
period of ancient history, had attracted occasionally only a slight




cH. I.]              PLAN OF THIS WORK.                     13'degree of.notice, becomes for awhile a principal object of attention. The empire of India, highly important in modern times, the
singularity of its political arrangements and national character, which
have suffered no change since the age of Alexander; the political
and moral history of the Persians; the revolutions operated on that
immense continent by the Tartar successors of Gengis-Khan, are
all wVorthy of a particular share of our consideration.  The establishment of the Tartar pr nces on the throne of China calls our
attention to that extraordinary monarchy, which, till this period,
was almost unknown to the nations of Europe.  We shall here
examine at some length the ground of those opinions which it has
of late become customary to entertain, with regard to the prodigious
antiquity of this people; their wonderful attainments in the arts and
sciences-; their alleged early acquaintance with the chief modern
discoveries of the Europeans; and the boasted excellence of their
laws, their government, and political economy.
Returning to Europe,. the object which, in the close of the sixteenth century, first demands our notice, is the reign of Philip II
of Spain, distinguished by the revolt of the Netherlands, and the
establishment of the republic of Holland.  The constitution and
government of the United Provinces merit here a brief delineation.
France now takes her turn, and holds the principal place in the
picture during the turbulent and distracted reign of Francis II.,
Charles IX., and Henry IlI., till we witness her happiness, tranquillity, and splendor under the great Henry IV.
The transition thence is easy to the era of England's grandeur
and plrosperity under his cotemporary Elizabeth.  The affairs of
Scotland, too much connected at this period with those of the
sister country, call our attention to'the interesting reign of Mary,
Queen of Scots, and the progress of the Reformation in that kingdom.  Hence we pursue, without interruption, the outlines of the
English history during the reigns of James I., of Charles 1.-during the Commonwealth-and the subsequent reigns of Charles II.
and James I. —to the important period of the Revolution.
Here, after a connected sketch of the progress of the English
constitution, and a particular examination of its nature at this great
era, when it became fixed and determined, we close our delineation
of the British History.
But the affairs of the continent of Europe, at this time in a most
active and progressive state, admit not of the same termination.
We look back to France, which, under the splendid and politic
administration of Richelieu, yet embroiled with faction and civil
war, presents a striking object of attention.  We remark the declension of the power of Spain under Philip III. and Philip IV.,
and Portugal in the latter reign shaking off its yoke, and establishing
an independent monarchy.  We see the Austrian power attacked by
the Swedes under Gustavus Adolphus, declining under Ferdinand
II. and III., and humiliated by the peace of Westphalia, in which




14                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK I.
the French and Swedes gave laws to the empire; a treaty, however, salutary in the main, as settling the ruinous quarrels between
her coutending princes.
W'e see France, in the minority of Louis XIV., harassed with
the disorders of the Fronde, originating in the unpopular administration of Mazarin.  After his death, we remnark the genius of
Louis displaying itself in a variety of splendid enterprises; his
views seconded by the abilities of his ministers and generals; while
the excellent order of the finances enables him easily to execute
the most important designs.  The opening to the succession of the
Spanish crown, while it increases for awhile the glory of his arms,
leads finally to the mortifying reverse of his fortune; and we behold
the latter years of this memorable reign as unfortunate, as the former
had been marked with splendor and success.
Meantime, two rival powers of ligh celebrity call our attention
to a variety of interesting scenes in the North of Europe.  Russia,
till now in absolute barbarism, becomes at once, by the abilities of
a single man, a powerful and polished empire.  Sweden, under the
minority of its prince, ready to be torn in pieces by the powers of
Russia, Denmark, and Poland, becomes, in a single campaign, the
terror of the surrounding kingdoms.  iVe see this prince, a second
Alexander, in a career as short and as impetuous, carry those heroic virtues which he possessed to arn extreme as dangerous as their
opposite vices.
At this period we close our delineation of modern history, with a
view of tne progress of the sciences, and of the state of literature in
Europe, during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.
Such is the plan to be pursued in the following Commentaries.
Of the merits or defects of the arrangement, those who possess an
extensive knowledge of history, and who have prosecuted that
study to its best purposes,-instruction  in political and moral
sciencu,-are best fitted to form  a judgment.  To the general
reader, I trust it will at least be found; to possess the qualities of
simplicity and perspicuity.
With regard to chronology, it is necessary to remark that,
without entering into any discussion of the merits of the different
systems, I have chosen to follow  the chronology of Archbishop
Usher, or that which is founded on the Hebrew text of the
Sacred Writings; and this for the sole reason, that it has beei
most generally adopted by the writers both of our own and ol
foreign nations.




CHAPTER II.
Earlest Ages of the World-Early History of Assyria-Of Egypt-Invasion of
the Shepherd Kings.
PROPANE History, agreeing with sacred, joins in the establishment
of this great truth, which reason itself, independently of authority,
must have clearly evinced, that this visible system of things which
we term the Universe has had its commencement.
All accounts of the early history of single nations trace them
back to.a state of rudeness and barbarism, which argues a new
and an infant establishment; and we must conclude that to be
true with respect to the wHtole, which we find to be true with
respect to all its parts.  But to delineate the characters of this
early state of society, to trace distinctly the steps by which population extended over the whole surface of the habitable globe; the
separation of mankind into tribes and nations; the causes which led
to the formation of the first kingdoms, and the precise times when
th.ey were formed-are matters of inquiry for which neither sacred
nor profane history affords us that amplitude of information which
is necessary for giving clear and positive ideas.  But while we
travel through those remote periods of the history of an infant
world, making the best of those lights we can procure, we have
the comfort of thinking that, in proportion as man advafices from
barbarism to civilization, in proportion as his history becomes useful or instructive, its certainty increases, and its materials become
nmore authentic and more abundant.
The Hebrew text of the sacred writings informs us that a period
of 1656 years elapsed between the Creation of the world and the
Deluge.  The Books of Moses contain a brief detail of the trans
actions of that period, and are the only records of those ages.
With regard to the state of the antediluvian world, speculative
nlen have exercised their fancy in numberless conjectures.  Various notions have been formed concerning the population of this
globe and its physical appearance-probable causes conjectured of
the longevity of its inhabitants-inquiries into the state of the
arts-and theories framed of that process of nature by which
the Almighty Being is supposed to have brought about the universal deluge.  These are, no doubt, ingenious and interesting speculations; but they can scarcely be said to fall within the department of history, of which it is the province to instruct by ascer



16                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 LBOOK xL
tained facts, and not to amuse by fanciful theories.. To us, who
wish to derive from history a knowledge of human nature as it is
at present, and to study those important lessons which it furnishes
for the conduct of life, it is of little consequence to know what
was either the physical or the political state of the world before
the deluge.   As so entire a change must have been caused by
that event on the face of nature, as totally to extinguish all traces
of antediluvian knowledge, and to reduce the world anew to a
state of infancy, we are well assured that the manners, customs,
arts, sciences, and political arrangements of the antediluvian ages
could have had little or no influence on those which succeeded
tilem.
Of the times immediately following the deluge, we have no other
original history than that contained in the Books of Moses.  The
sacred writings inform us, that the family of Noah established themselves in the plain of Shinaar, where they built the Tower of Babel,
and that the confusion of their language caused their dispersion into
the different regions of the earth.
A view of the physical surface of this habitable globe, parted, as
we observe it is, by those great natblral boundaries, the chains of
mountains, and the rivers which intersect it, affords the most convinciig evidence that the earth was intended by the great Architect
of all things to be peopled by various tribes and nations, who
should be perpetually separated from each other by those eternal
barriers, which will ever prevent empires and states fiorn permanently exceeding a just bound of territory.  Without those natural
boundaries, the limits of kingdoms must have been continually fluctuating; and perpetual discord must have embroiled the universe.
An ambitious potentate may, with the accidental concurrence of
favorable circumstances, enlarge for a time the limits of an empire,
beyond this just proportion; but' the force of government and laws
is weakened as its sphere is extended: and the encroachment being
clearly marked and defined by those natural barriers, the lost territory will scarcely fail to be regained; and the revolution of a
few vears will again bring empires and kingdoms to their ancient
liniits.
The physical nature, with respect to soil and climate, of the
different countries into which the inhabitants of the earth were
dispersed, must, in most cases, have determined their manner of
life, and influenced the condition of society. If, before their dispersion, mankind had made any progress in the arts, as, after that
event, many of those wandering tribes must, from the nature of
the countries which they occupied, have betaken themselves to
the pastoral life, while others subsisted solely as hunters, the arts
among them  being totally neglected from  finding nd call to their
exercise; it is no wonder that we observe, soon after the deluge,
the greater part of the.nations in a state of barbarism, or little advanced beyond that condition.  Such of the original tribes, how



cn. mi.]-                   ASSYRIA.                          17
ever, as, without any distant migration, had fixed themselves in
the vicinity of their primeval seats, that is, on the borders of the
Mediterranean Sea, very naturally retained and cultivated those
arts of which their progenitors had been in possession. Thus,
Nimrod, the grandson of Ham, the son of Noah, about 150 years
after the deluge, is said to have founded Babylon; and Assur, the
grandson of Noall, to have built the city of Nineveh, which became the capital of the Assyrian empire: but the Mosaic writings
make no more mention of Nimrod, or of Assur, or any of their
successors.
Profane historians, on the other hand, make Belus the founder
of Babylon, who is therefore supposed to have been the same
with Nimrod.  His son, Ninus, to whom those historians attribute
the foundation of Nineveh, is said to have been the conqueror of
India and Bactriana; and under him and his queen Semiramis,
who reigned alone after his death, the Assyrian empire is supposed
to have attained a very high degree of splendor. The magnificence
of Babylon and of Nineveh would indeed give immense ideas of
the wealth and power of Ninus and Semiramis; but it is scarcely
credible that Nineveh, in the time of its founder, and Babylon,
under the son of its founder, should either have been splqndid in
themselves, or the empire very considerable to which they belonged.  It is the conjecture of other historians, that Nineveh and
Babyloo, till the year 590 after the deluge, were separate monarchies; that Ninus, who reigned at Nineveh, made the conquest
of Babylon; and that the date of the Assyrian empire, properly
so called, is to be fixed only at the union of these kingdoms.  But
these are discussions of more curiosity than importance, and we
shall not enter into them.
From the death of Ninias, the son of Ninus, down to the revolt
of the Medes under Sardanapalus, there is an interval of 800 years,
in which there is an absolute void in the history of Assyria and
Babylon.  The names, indeed, of the supposed sovereigns during
that period are preserved, but there are no traces of historical
events.  Even the catalogue of the names of those princes appears
suspicious, from their being taken from the Greek and Persian languages; as, for example, Lamprides, Dercylus, Amyntas, Xerxes,
Aramitres.  This, however, is no conclusive evidence of forgery;
since we know how common has been the practice of authors of
translating proper names (such, at least, as have characteristic
significations) from  their original, into the language used by the
historian.* By those who support the authenticity of this cata* Among the modern writers, Buchanan and the President De Thou have
signally impaired the utility of their excellent histories by this most injudicious
practice. It is true that the French and English terminations of proper names
accord extremely ill with the harmonious flow of classical Latiin composition;
but this defect might in most cases be remedied by simply giving those names
VOL. I.                   3




18, UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                eBOs'J
logue of the Assyrian and Babylonish monarchs, the'obscurity
of their reigns has been attributed to the indolence, effeminacy,
and debauchery in which they were plumged.  This, however, is
a weak supposition.- It is against all moral probability that a great
empire should have subsisted without a revolution for 800 years,
under a series of dissolute, weak, and effeminate monarchs.  That
character in the prince is the parent of seditions, conspiracies, and
rebellion among the people, instead of a quiet and peaceable subjection; and, accordingly, we find that the kingdom of Babylon,
till then united with Assyria, shook off its yoke under the weak
and dissolute Sardanapalus.  If we are at all to form a conjecture
of the state of the Assyrian empire during this great chasm  in its
history, it must be a very different one; namely, that it was governed by a series of wise, virtuous, and pacific princes, the uniform
tenor of whose reigns have furnished no striking events for the
mouth of tradition, or for the pen of the historian.
Besides the Assyrians, the Egyptians are the only nation of
whom  profane history, at this early period, makes any mention:
but the commencement of their history is as uncertain as that of
the Assyrians. Menes is supposed the first king in Egypt, and
according to the most probable theory, which connects the sacred
with the profane history, he is believed to be the same person
with Misraim, the grandson of Noah, whom  there are likewise
very probable grounds for supposing to be the deified personage
whom the Egyptians venerated under the name of Oziris.  Oziris
is describ'ed as the inventor of arts, and the civilizer of a great
pArt of the world.  He raised, as we are told, a prodigious army,
and overran Ethiopia, Arabia, and great part of India; appeared in
all the nations of Asia, and, crossing the Hellespont, continued his
progress through a great part of Europe.  This extraordinary man
disseminated the arts, built cities, and was universally revered as
a god.  Returning to Egypt, he was assassinated by his brotlher
Typhon; but his death was revenged by his sister Isis, and his
apotheosis solemnly performed.
After Menes or Oziris, Egypt was governed by a succession of
illustrious men, whom succeeding ages have characterized as gods
and demigods.  The country was then divided into four dynasties,
-Thebes, Thin, Memphis, and Tanis; the inhabitants of which
had made great progress in civilization and the culture of the arts,
when they were thrown back into a state of comparative barbarism
by the invasion of the shepherd kings, a body of marauders from
Ethiopia; who made a partition of the whole country, each of the
chiefs governing independently a separate province.* The doa Latin termination. The disguise is impenetrable where the word itself is
attempted to be translated, as Plexippus (Harry tIotspur,) Sophocardius (Wishart,) JAegalocephalus (Malcolm Canmore,) &c.'Mr. Bruce, in his History of Abyssinia, has made it extremely probable




CH III,]          STATE OF THE EARLY NATIONS.                   19
minion of these shepherd kings is said to have' subsisted for 259
years, when they were expelled by Aonosis, a prince of Upper
Egypt, and forced to retreat with their adherents into the neighboring countrie4 of Syria and Palestine.  What space of time
elapsed from  the termination put to their dominion by the famous
Sesostris, is absolutely uncertain; nor with regard to this prince,
can we give any credit to those most hyperbolical accounts either
of his foreign conquests or his domestic policy, and the wonderful
economy of his government.  Yet, though we cannot easily believe with Herodotus that the sovereign of a country which is said
to have contained 27,000,000 of inhabitants, could effect an equal
partition of all the lands of the empire among his subjects; nor with
Diodorus Siculus, that the same prince, with an army of 600,000
nmien, and 27,000 armed chariots, traversed and subdued the whole
continent of Asia and a great part of Europe, we may at least hold
it probable that the Egyptians had a sovereign of the name of
Sesostris, who distinguished himself in those rude ages, both as
a conqueror and a legislator.  The reverence paid to the name of
Sesostlis by the ancient Egyptians, and the honors done to his
memory as a great benefactor of his country, sufficiently prove the
reality of such a personage.
CHAPTER  III.
On the nature of the first Governments, and on the Manners and Customs, Laws
Arts, and Sciences of the early Nations.
AMIDST the scanty materials of authentic history in those early
ages of the world, it may afford matter of amusing as well as useful
speculation, to consider what must have been the nature of the first
governments; and to endeavor to discover the genius of the ancient
nations from  those traces of laws, manners and customs, arts and
sciences, which are preserved to us, with the aid of such conjectures
as are founded on a fair and just analogy.
The rudest period of society is that in which the patriarchal
that the shepherds who invaded Egypt' were a tribe from the Abyssinian coast of
the Red Sea, called Beni, who had become acquainted with Egypt in the way of
commerce, as the carriers of the Cashile merchants, and observing the weakness
of the' country, while they envied its wealth, subdued it, after three several invasions.-See Bruce's Travels.




20                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK I
government takes place, or where there is no other subordination
known than that of the mrembers of a family to their head or parent.
But this simple form of society can be of no long duration.  Dis.
sensions arising, and the more powerful families subduing the weaker,
combinations would naturally be formed to resist the encroachments
of a covetous or ambitious patriarch; and an union of interests
would take place as the benefits of such a compact would be felt
alike for defence or for revenge, for conquest or for domestic security.  But the authority of the patriarch, thus weakened in some
respects by the control of a common chief, would not necessarily
be extinguished or destroyed. The family would become members
of a tribe or clan; but the father would still retain his authority over
his children and his servants: the number of these would render his
power still considerable; and the chief or king would always find it
his interest to pay such deference to the principal patriarchs of his
tribe, as to consult with them  in all affairs which regarded the
common good.*
We may, therefore, fairly presume that a limited monarchy was
the earliest form of regular government among the ancient nations.
The scriptures, as well as the profane historians, bear evidence to
this fact. A republic is an idea too refined and too complex for
a rude people to form: and despotic monarchies arise only after
extensive conquests, and a great enlargement of empire.
The first monarchies must have been very weak, and their territory extremely limited.  The sovereigns would be little desirous
of extending them by conquest while the land supplied the wants
of its inhabitants.  Security is the first idea: ambition is long
posterior, and takes place only when population is abundant, and
increasing luxury demands increased supplies.  In forming our
notions of the power of the first monarchies we are apt to be misled
by the word king, which, in modern language and according to
modern ideas, is connected with an extent of territory and a proportional power.  Yet the Jewish annals, the most ancient of all
histories, Qught to have corrected such erroneous notions.  Chedarloarner, the first who is recorded to have attempted a military
expedition, was, together with three kings, his allies, defeated by
the patriarch Abraham with three hundred and eighteen men of
his own household. Nimrod is supposed to have been a mighty
monarch.  All that Moses says of him is, that he was a  nmighty
hunter.  The very idea of a hunter excludes the supposition of a
powerful sovereign, or a great empire.   It supposes, what was
certainly the case, that the earth was covered with forests, the
receptacles of wild beasts, and consequently very thinly inhabited.
A hunter-chief, in his excursions, might, no doubt, range over the
*The President Goguet gives a very rational deduction of the origin of the
first governments, and of the transition from the patriarchal subordination to the
establishment of the monarchical form.-Origin of Laws, b. i.




cHa. III.]         STATE OF THE EARLY NATIONS.                  2
extent of modern kingdoms and empires; but what was his power,
and who were his subjects?  The control, and even that a very
limited authority, over a, few hordes or families who pitched their
tents in a narrow valley in the midst of deserts, or occupied, perhaps, but a portion of that valley. A single town, or more properly an encampment, was then termed a kingdom.  There were
five kings in the vale of Sodom. Joshua defeated thirty-one kings.
Adonibezek, who died a little after the time of Joshua, boasted
that he had defeated three score and ten kings, and mutilating
their hands and feet, had made them  gather their meat under his
table.
In those early periods the regal dignity was, in all probability,
attained by the personal talents of individuals, on account of erninent services performed to their country; and, of course, the office
of king was at first elective.* The progress is natural from thence
to a hereditary monarchy. The transmission ojthe throne to the
heir of the last sovereign originated from  experience of the mis
chiefs arising from frequent elections, and the disorders occasioned
by ambitious men aspiring to that dignity.  The dread of these
evils, combining with the natural feeling of regard which a people
entertains for the family of the man under whose government they
have been happy, -the presumption that his offspring may inherit
from nature, example, or education, the virtues of their father; all
these circumstances would cooperate to render the kingly office
hereditary: and such, therefore, we find from ancient history was
the constitution of the earliest governments.
The first ideas of conquest must have proceeded from a people
in the state of shepherds, like the wandering Tartars and Scythians,
who, necessarily changing their territory in quest of new pastures,
would often make incursions upon the fixed dominions of the cultivated countries.  And suche was the condition of those marauders
from Ethiopia, or perhaps Abyssinia, whom we have already mentioned under the name of shepherd kings, as having been the
conquerors of Egypt. But monarchies or empires, thus founded
oy the invasion of a rude and wandering people, could seldom be
stable or permanent.  An extensive monarchy is, therefore, a rare
phenomenon not to be looked for in such a state of society. It
presupposes a considerable degree of intellectual refinement, gen* The account which Herodotus gives of the election of the first king of the
Medes is indicative of the rise of monarchy in other rude nations. The Medes,
after their revolt from the Assyrians, were subject to all the disorders and miseries
of anarchy. An able man, of the name of Dejoces, was extremely successful in
quieting these disorders, and by degrees attained to much influence and respect
among his countrymen. Oppressed with the fatigues with which this voluntary
duty was attended, Dejoces betook himself to retirement. The Medes now felt
the want of his authority, and, in a general assembly of the people, it was
unanimously resolved to invest their benefactor with the sovereign power.Herod. b. 1., c. 97,. et seq.




22          -UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                           [noorc 
eral habits of order and subordination, and a regular system of laws,
all which is the work of ages; nor will political regulations meet
with any respect or obedience unless among a people thus refined
and enlightened,-a state of society far advanced beyond the rude
condition of shepherds or hunters.,,
Advancement from barbarism to civilization is a very slow and
gradual process, because every step in that process is the result of
necessity after the experience of an error, or the strong feeling of
a want.  These experiences, frequently repeated, show at length
the necessity of certain rules and customs to be followed by the
general consent of all; and these rules become in time positive
enactments dr laws, enforced by certain penalties, which are various
in their kind and in their degree, according to the state of society at
the time of their formation.  Some political writers have supposed
that during the infancy of society penal laws must have been exceedingly mild, ftbm the want of authority in government to enforce
such as are severe.  On the other hand, it may perhaps appear
a more natural conjecture that rude and ferocious manners would
incite to rigorous and cruel punishments, and that the ruder and
more untractable the people, the severer must be the laws necessary to restrain them.  The strength of the violent passions which
prompt to crimes in a rude state of society is to be curbed only
by the severest bodily inflictions.  Punishments which operate by
shame, or by restraints upon liberty, would have little effect in a
state of this kind.  But the fact does not rest upon conjecture.
History actually informs us that the most ancient penal laws were
remarkably severe.  By the Mosaic law, the crimes of homicide,
adultery, incest, and rape were punished with burning, stoning,
and the most cruel kinds of death.  Diodorus Siculus notices the
same spirit of severity in the ancient laws of the Egyptians.  The
first laws of the Athenians, framed by Draco, are proverbial for
their cruelty.  The earliest laws of the Roman state, at least those
of the Twelve Tables, are full of the most severe punishments, and
capital inflictions for almost every offence.  Cwesar informs us that
the Gauls burnt their criminals alive, in honor of their gods.  When
we contrast these authorities with the opinion of the ingenious Lord
Kames, we perceive the danger of writing history upon theoretical
principles instead of facts.
Among the earliest laws of all states are those regarding marriage; for the institution of marriage is coeval with the formation of
society.  The progress is well described by the Roman poet:"Inde casas postquam, ac pelles ignemque pararunt,
Et mulier conjuncta viro concessit in unum,
Castaque privatae veneris connubia lamta
Cognita sunt, prolemhlue ex se videre creatam;
Turn genus humanum primum mollescere ccepit.
Lucret. 1. v. 1009.
And this we observe isjlong prior to the formation of large comrn




ia. rIH.]         STATE OF THE EARLY NATIONS.                  e3
rnunities.*  It is not till the arts had made some progress that men
began to rear towns and cities.
It is impossible to conceive society to exist without the care of
children, which presupposes a rule for ascertaining them.  The
first sovereigns of all nations, therefore, are said to have instituted
marriage;- Menes, the first king of Egypt; Fohi, the first sovereign of China; Cecrops, the first legislator of the Greeks. The
earliest laws of many civilized nations likewise provided encouragements for matrimony.  By the Jewish law, a married man was for
the first year exempted fiom going to war, and excused from the'
burden of any public office. Among the Peruvians he was free for
a year from the payment of all taxes. The respect for the matrimnonial union cannot be more clearly evinced than by the severity
with which the greater part of the ancient nations restrained the
crime of adultery.  In reality no moral offence is equally pernicious
to society.
In the marriages of many of the ancient nations a custom  prevailed in many respects more honorable than the modern prac-.
tice. e The husband was obliged to purchase his wife, either by
presents or by personal services performed to her father.  When
Abraham  sent Eliezer to demand Rebecca for his son Isaac, he
charged him with magnificent presents.  Jacob served seven years
for each of the daughters of Laban who were given to him  in
marriage.  Homer alludes to this custom as subsisting in Greece.
EHe makes Agamemnon say to Achilles that he will give him one
of his daughters in marriage, and require no present in return.
That the same custom  was in use among the ancient inhabitants
of India, of Spain, Germany, Thrace, and Gaul, appears fronm
Strabo, Tacitus, and many other writers; and the accounts of
modern travellers assure us, that it prevails at this day in China,
Tartary, Tonquin, among the Moors of Africa, and the savages of
America.
As Herodotus is not always to be depended on in matters that
did not fall under his own observation, I know not whether we
should give implicit credit to what he relates of a singular practice
which prevailed among the Assyrians, with respect to marriage,
though it seems to have a natural foundation in the custom abovementioned, which prevailed in most of the ancient nations.  In
every village, says that author, they brought together once in the
year all the young women who were marriageable, and the public
crier, beginning with the most'beautiful, put them up to auction,
* After a fine description of the first stages of savage life, when man had scarcely
advanced beyond the brute, the poet says:-"But when they began to build their
first rude huts, to clothe themselves in skins, and had discovered the use of fire;
when first one woman was joined to one man in the chaste endearments of mutual
love, and saw their own offspring rising around them,-then only did the ferocious
manners of the human race begin to soften."




24                   UUNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK i.
one after anotner.  The rich paid a high price for those whose
figure seemed-to them the most agreeable; and the money raised
by the sale of these was assigned as a portion to the more homely.
When it was their turn to be put up to sale, each woman was
bestowed on the man who was willing to accept of her with the
smallest portion; but no man was allowed to carry off the woman
he had purchased, unless he gave security that he would take her
to wife; and if afterwards it happened that the husband for any,cause put away his wife, he was obliged to pay back the money
hle had received with her.  The same author informs us that the
Assyrian laws were most strict in providing that women should be
well used by their husbands. The condition of woman is, in all
ages, a criterion of the progress of civilization and refinement of
manners.
In an early period of society, next in importance to the regulations of,marriage, are the laws which regulate the division of a
man's estate after his death.  Anciently, among most nations,- the
father of a family seems to have had the absolute power of disposing of his effects in any manner he chose. Abraham bequbathed
at his death his whole possessions to Isaac, though he had many
other children. To these he had made some gifts during his lifetime.  Jacob gave Joseph a portion above the rest of his brethren
of the land he had taken from the Amorites. Job divided his
whole inheritance in equal portions among his sons and daughters.
The history of Jacob and Esau, however, affords a proof that certain rights and privileges were attendant on primogeniture, as the
control over the younger children, of which even the parent could
not deprive his first-born; an authority which we learn from Homer
and Herodotus was inherent in the eldest son, by the custom of the
most civilized nations of antiquity.
These laws, or rather consuetudinary regulations, which I have
mentioned, it will be easily seen, must have arisen necessarily and
imperceptibly from the state of society, rather than frdm any express enactments, of politicians and legislators.  It was not till
agriculture had first established the distinction of property and
increased its value, till the wants of man were multiplied, and arts
and commerce were introduced to supply them, that the rights of
individuals became complicated, and regular systems of laws, enforced by proper penalties, became necessary to secure and defend
them. Hence we may perceive the connection between history
and jurisprudence, and the lights'which they mutually throw upor
each other.  The surest key to the interpretation of the laws of
country is -its history; and in like manner, where the history of a
country is in any periods dark and uncertain, those obscurities are
best elucidated by the study-of its ancient laws.*
" Many laws contain in their preamble an explicit declaration of the political
emergency which required their enactment. The evil to be remedied is par.




Co. III.]           STATE OF THE EARLY NATIONS.                   25
The invention of writing is among the improvements of a society,
where men have attained to a considerable degree of civilization;*
but long before such invention, the more important affairs even of
a rude society demand some solemn method of authentication.
Contracts, sales, testaments, marriages, require a certain publicity
and solemnity of. transaction in order to enforce their observance;
and accordingly we find that among the early nations, or those
which are yet in a state of barbarism, such affairs of, importance
are always transacted in public and before witnesses. Abraham,
in the presence of the whole people, concludes a bargain for a
place of burial for his wife Sarah. Homer, in his description of the
sculpture which adorned the shield of Achilles, represents two
citizens pleading concerning the fine due for a homicide.  The
cause is heard before the people, and both plaintiff and defendant appeal to the testimony of witnesses:"There in the forum swarm a numerous train,
The subject of debate a townsman slain:
One pleads the fine discharged, which one denied,
And bade the public and the laws decide:
The witness is produced on either.hand:
For this or that the partial people stand:
Th' appointed heralds still the noisy bands,:And form a ring with sceptres in their hands.
On seats of stone, within the sacred place
The reverend elders paused upon the case;
Alternate each th' attesting sceptre took,
And rising, solemn, each his sentence spoKe."
Pope's Iliad, b. 18.
Some of the northern barbarous nations use, at this day, a mode
of authenticating contracts by symbols, which is a nearer approach
to the solemnity of writing. After the agreement is made, the
parties cut a piece of wood irregularly into two tallies; each party
keeps one of these, and both are given up and destroyed when
the bargain is fulfilled.  A  custom of this kind supposes a state of
society where all agreements are of the simplest nature; for these
tallies, though they might certify the existence of a contract, could
never give evidence of its tenor.
An invention somewhat more refined than this, and' approaching still nearer to writing, was the Peruvian quipos, or cords of
various colors, with certain knots upon them of different size, and
differently combined.  With these they contrived to accomplish
most of the purposes of writing; they formed registers which conticularly specified. In this view, such laws are in themselves a species of his
tory. Other laws point out merely the state of manners, without reference to
any particular facts; but attending to the period of time when those laws were
enacted, such information is perhaps even of greater importance than the other;
for it supplies often what is either wanting, or but imperfectly to be gathered
from the historical annals of a nation.
* On the origin of alphabetic writing see a very ingenious and elaborate dissertation by M. Goguet. Orig. des Lan, t. 1. liv. 2. c. 6.
VOL. 1.                4




O26                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                     [BOOxK. I
tained the annals of their empire, the state' of the public revenues,
the account of their taxes for the support of government, and by
means of them they recorded their astronomical observations.
One step farther in this process is the expression of ideas by
painting. When the Spaniards arrived in Mexico, the inhabitants
of the seacoasts sent intelligence to their emperor Montezuma, by
a large cloth, on which they had carefully depicted every thing
they had seen of the appearance and progress of the invaders.
Some specimens of the picture-writing of the Mexicans are to be
found in  Dr. Robertson's History of America.   Among  otlier
nations the difficulty and inconvenience of this practice taught men
to abridge these signs; to give, instead of a complete picture of
the object, some characteristic part of it; and by the addition.of
certain marks or strokes to make these pictures significant even of
relations, qualities, passions, and sentiments.  It is certain that by
the hieroglyphical writing of the Egyptians was conveyed a great
deal of complicated intelligence.*
With regard to the use made by the Egyptians of hieroglyphical
writing, there have been different opinions.  It has been disputed,
for example, whether the Egyptians employed them for communicating knowledge, or for recording  it while they meant at the
same  time  to  conceal that knowledge  from  the vulgar.   The
President Goguet has endeavored to reconcile both opinions.  "It
is easy to prove," says he, " that the Egyptians used hieroglyphics
at first, only to transmit the knowledge of their laws, their Customs, and their history to posterity.  It was nature and necessity,
not art and choice, that produced the- several kinds of hieroglyphic writing.  It was an imperfect and defective invention, suited
to the ignorance of the early ages.  The Egyptians used it because they were ignorant of letters.  Afterwards, when by intercourse with the Greeks the Egyptians learned the use of alphabetic characters, they abandoned the hieroglyphic writing,,which
"' The history of the world," says Mr. Barrow," affords abundant evidence
that, in the dawn of civilization, most nations endeavored to fix and to perpetuate ideas by painting the figures of the objects that produced them. The
Bosjesmen Hottentots, the most wild and savage race perhaps of human beings,
are in-the constant habit of drawing on the sides of caverns the representations
of the different animals peculiar to the country. When I visited some of those
caverns, I considered such drawings as the employment of idle hours; but on
since reflecting that in all such caverns are also to be seen the figures of Dutch
boors (who hunt these miserable creatures like wild beasts) in a variety of attitudes; some with guns in their hands, and others in the act of firing upon their
countrymen; wagons sometimes proceeding, and at others standing still, the
oxen unyoked and the boors sleeping; and these representations generally
followed by a number of lines scored like so many tallies; I am inclined to
think they have adopted this method of informing their companions of the number of their enemies, and the magnitude of the danger. The animals represented were generally such as are to be met with in the district where the drawings
appeared; this, to at people who subsist by the chase and by plunder, might
serve as another piece of important information."-Barrow's Travels in Chinah
p. 246.




CIl 111.1        STATE OF THE EARtY NATIONSo                 27
soon ceased to be generally understood.  It was then that the
Eglyptian priests, who like other learned men in rude ages sought
to conceal and;make a mystery of tbeir knowledge, used the hiero-:
glyphic writing as a convenient veil."
But all those methods of recording or conveying intelligence
which were in use before the invention of alphabetic writings, were
found extremely unfit for two most important purposes; the recording of historical events, and the promulgation of laws.  It was
therefore necessary for the early nations to adopt some other methol of record and publication; and none other adequate to the
imperfection of their knowledge and attainments was so suitable
for those purposes as poetical composition.  Poetry or song was
therefore in all nations the first vehicle of history, and the earliest
mode of promulgating laws; for nothing was found equally capable
of striking with force the imagination, and impressing the memory.
The earliest poetry of all nations is devoted to the celebration of
the praises of their gods, and to the commemoration of the exjlloits of illustrious heroes.  When society has made some advancement, and laws are established to guard the rights and privileges of
men, a legislator, observing with what avidity the songs of the
bards are listened to; how  universally they are circulated, and
how  tenaciously retained, judiciously avails himself of the same
vehicle for the publication of his laws.  Plato, in his JMinos, informs us, that the- first laws of all nations were composed in verse
and. sung.  Apollo is recorded to have been one of the first legislators, and to have published his laws to the sound of his harp,
that is, set them  to music.  That this mode of promulgation was
in use among the ancient Greeks, the word Nolo;, which signifies
both a law and a song, is direct proof: and Aristotle, in, his problems, inquiring into the reason of this conformity of names between
two such different objects, gives this express reason, that before
the use of writing, it was customary to keep the laws. in remembrance by singing them; and this, according to the same author,
was the custom of many different nations. The laws of the ancient
inhabitants of Spain were all in verse; as were likewise the laws of
Tuisto, the-first legislator of the ancient Germans.
Another mode of preserving the remembrance of historical events
was by visible monuments, which were comparatively rude or artificial in their structure, according to the condition of society, or the
age in which they were erected.  Such are those heaps of stones
raised as memorials of ancient battles, single unhewn blocks, or
adorned with rude sculpture, expressive of the actions commemorated; and in more polished times, columns, triumphal arches,
and coins or medals on which writing and sculpture are united.
With respect even to the rudest of all monuments, the cairns or
heaps of stones, or single unsculptured blocks, the historical facts
which they commemorated would long be preserved by tradition;
for even a migration of the inhabitants of a country or its coloni



~28                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                     [Bo00  I.
zation by a new race, would not be followed by a total loss of its
history.  The new settlers would anxiously inquire into the mean.
ing of such monuments, and preserve the tradition, as illustrating
the ancient history of that country which they had subdued.
Coins and medals are the invention of a polished people, and
are of singular use as the records of historical events.  They have
been justly  termed portable monuments; and they have this advantage over the most durable structures that were ever raised by
human industry, that, as vast numbers were commonly struck of
the same impression, they stand a much fairer chance of passing
down to posterity; and even their being lost or buried in the earth
ensures their preservation.  Of such medals or coins even the spurious copies, though a fraud upon ignorant collectors and virtuosi,
are of equal service with the original, for the purposes of the historian.:
Among the earliest institutions of all nations are those which regard  religious worship.  The sentiment of religion has its origin
in the nature of the human mind, or in those passions which are
a part of our constitution.  Let us conceive an infant thrown by
some chance into a solitary desert, and there to have grown to
manhood without intercourse with any other being of his own species; I think it is highly probable that such a person would form
to himself some idea of a First Cause, or creative power, to whom
he would refer the origin of himself, and of all he saw  around
him.  Perceiving a settled order in the course of the sun and motion of the stars,. a regular vicissitude of day and night, and a stated
return of seasons, his mind could not fail to attribute that order
and regularity to the operation of wisdom combined with power;
and thus he would conceive some dark idea of a Being, who directed, in some distant region, the existence, the duration, the
order and progress of all inanimate and animated nature.  The idea
first conceived  from  the order and regularity of nature would be
strengthened by every extraordinary occurrence; and the passipn
" Medals are useful in~; explaining events which have been left doubtful by
the historian, and they record many facts which history has omitted. The his.
tory of Palmyra would have been almost unknown but for the researches of
M. Vaillant, who, from the existing medals, has made out an entire chronicle
of the kings of Syria.  Medals are likewise eminently useful in illustrating
ancient manners and customs; in preserving the figures of ancient buildings,
arms, implements of the arts, modes of dress, &c.: not to mention the pleasure
they convey (a pleasure founded in the most natural and rational curiosity) in
making us familiarly acquainted with the features of the great men of antiquity.
As actual monuments of the fine arts, medals are entitled to great estimation.
The sculpture of many of the ancient coins is superlatively beautiful; and they
are supposed to exhibit on their reverses very exact representations of celebrated
statues and paintings of antiquity which are now lost. This is rendered probable from the beautiful copies which we find on some of those coins of the celebrated statues which are yet preserved; as the Venus de' JMedici, the Hercules
Farnese, and the Apollo Belvedere. The progress of sculpture'from its first rude
commencement to its utmost perfection, and its equally sensible corruption and
decline, are illustrated by the bare inspection of the regular series of the Greek
and Roman coins.




CH.o ii.]       STATE OF THE EARLY NATIONS,                 29
of fear combining its aid, the thunder, the hurricane, or the earthquake would be interpreted into an expression of the wrath of this
great invisible being; whom, therefore, the solitary savage would
endeavor to appease by humiliating himself before him, by supplicating his clemency, or strive to gain his favor by praises of
his beneficence.  Thus an untutored human creature, merely ty
the operation of his natural passions and uninstructed reason, which
teaches that every effect must have a cause, and that a combined
series of effects, cooperating to a wise and useful end, implies wisdom and benevolence in the cause, would arrive at the first great
principles of religion.  But before conceiving the idea of a Being
utterly imperceptible to his senses, a savage might not unnaturally
seek to find him in some of the most striking objects of sense, to
which he owed his most apparent and sensible benefits.  Thus the
sun', whose benignant influence is perceived to extend over all na-.
ture, and whose light and heat are apparently the immediate causes
of'fecundity of nature in the production of most of her works —
was The first object of worship among many of the ancient nations.
The element of fire presented a symbol of the sun, as possessing
his most sensible qualities, and believed to have been originally a
portion of his substance.  The moon, the stars, whose distance
removes them, like the sun, from any positive ascertainment of
their nature, while at the same time the regularity of their motions conveys to the rude and uninstructed mind some idea uf a
living anid intelligent principle which animates them, would naturally attract their share of respect and adoration.  So, in like mnanner, as the influence of some of those superior bodies was plainl]
perceived to extend to inferior and terrestrial substances, as ai: the
instances of the tides, monsoons, and alternation of the seasons, it
was a most natural idea to conceive that all the phenormena of the
universe, in the production and perlpetuation of men, animals, plants,
&c. were to be referred to the agency of those superior and ruling
powers.
The unity of a Supreme Being is an idea too refined for the rude
and uninstructed mind, which cannot easily conceive the notion of
a being extending his influence and agency at the same moment
through all the boundless regions of space and upon all the modifi.
cations of matter.  Hence it would seem  probable that not one,
but several divinities were concerned in the formation, and shared
between them the regulation, of the universe.
The symbolical -mode of writing, already taken notice of, is likewise a probable source of the polytheism and idolatrous superstitions of many of the ancient nations.  In the rude method, antecedent to writing, of communicating ideas by painting, if it was
necessary to typify a god, and to describe his attributes, the artist
nad no other resource than to join to the image of the god those
animals whose qualities were most expressive of his attributes.  In
the hieroglyphical method of w iting which succeeded to that of
painting, and was a more compendious mode of communicating




30                       UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                   [BOOK I
ideas, the animals naturally came to stand for symbols of the god
himself; and the vulgar and illiterate would behold in those ani
mals the figure of the god, which-the wisqer and more learned knew
to be only typical of his attributes.  As it was observed that the
same god was sometimes represented by different animals, the no
tion would naturally arise in a rude mind, that this god occasionally
transformed  himself into different shapes; and hence sprang the
belief of the transmigrations and metamiorphoses of the gods.
The apotheosis of heroes, and the divine worship paid to men
who had rendered eminent services to their country, are not more
difficult to be accounted for.  The homage and respect paid to the
chief by his tribe must have originated with society itself.  The'
belief of the immortality of the soul-a belief which, being founded
in the nature of the human mind and its affections, obtains in every
period of society, and equally among the most barbarous as among
the most refined nations of the earth-had  generally this concomitant idea, that the spirits of the dead are employed in the same actions and pursuits which had lbeen their most pleasurable occupation
in life.  Hence, as the heroic chief had been deservedly honored
for his actions while in life, it was natural to continue those honors
after his death, while it was believed that he still extended his
shadowy arm over his faithful tribe, still secretly animated them in
the hour of danger, and was the unseen witness of all their exploits
in the career of glory.*
It is unnecessary to  pursue  this subject to a greater length.
Enough has been said to show that it is easy, without having recourse to fanciful systems or labored investigations of mythology,
to furnish a natural account of the origin of idolatry and polytheism.  Many excellent reflections on this subject are contained in
the apocryphal book termed the Wisdom  of Solomon; a book
which exhibits a profound knowledge of human nature, and abounds
in the most excellent precepts of morality.  On the absurdity of
i The following just and beautiful reflections occur in a letter of Dr. Rundle,
bishop of Derry, written February, 1737, on occasion of the death'of his friend and
patron, Chancellor Talbot.
" It was the love for such benevolent elharacters which first dictated to every
nation the belief of the immortality of the soul.  The learned expressed this
affection by arguments to prove the truth of this hope,.which such worthiness
had lighted up in their hearts. But the ignorant uttered the genuine sentiments
of their nature by worshipping those benefactors of mankind, as soon as they
withdrew from the earth. They judged that their goodness would secure them
an interest in the governor of the world, and recommend them to his love. What
he loves he will reward in the manner which will make them most happy.'Enjoying the desire of the heart is the sincerest felicity. The desire of their souls
was always to make others virtuous and prosperous. New abilities to serve those
above whom thev delighted to bless when below, they imagined, therefore, the'
only suitable and acceptable reward to such generous natures. Hence they concluded them appointed guardians over their kindred people, and from lamenting
were by an enthusiam of gratitude, misled to worship them. A love of merit thus
betrayed them into error and superstition; but methinks, virtue herself will plead
and obtain pardon for such idolaters."




Clf. III.]       STATE OF THE EARLY NATIONS.                 31
some of those whimsical mythologies, and even of their pernicious
tendency, I shall afterwards have occasion to make some remarks,
in treating of the earliest periods of the history of the Greeks.
Among the ancient nations we find the priesthood always exercised by the chief or sovereign; for the chief must have presided
RI the performance of religious worship, because he presided in
every thing.  But the sovereign of an extensive empire was necessarily obliged to share that office with his subjects, and to appoint a certain number of priests to officiate in his room, while he
himself retained the function of supreme pontiff.  Hence arose
that connection between the monarchy and the priesthood in most
of the ancient kingdoms, because the priests considered themselves
as the deputies of the prince.  The respect which they obtained
from that character, joined to the reverence fdr their sacred function, together with the opinion of their superior knowledge and
learning, naturally made the illiterate vulgar submit their difterences to, their decision as umpires: and when society had so far
advanced that there was an approach towards a system  of legislation, the care of framing the laws was committed to the priests;
when committed to writing they were deposited in their temples;
and from their order the first tribunals were supplied with judges
chosen by the sovereign.
We may presume with some reason, that in the early ages the
priests were among the first who cultivated the sciences. The
useful arts are the immediate offspring of necessity; and in the
infancy of society, every individual, according as he feels his
wants, is put to the necessity of exercising his'talents in some
rude contrivances to supply them.  The skill to construct instruments for the capture or destruction of animals, or for offence and
defence in war, is found among the most barbarous nations. The
rude arts of forming a clothing for the body, and the constructions
of huts for shelter against the inclemencies of the air, form among,
such nations the occupation of every individual of the tribe or
community, and even of both sexes.  The contrivances of savages in the useful arts often show considerable ingenuity.  The
North American Indians, having no iron, use stone hatchets in cutting down the largest trees.  They found, says Charlevoix, in his
Travels in Canada, a very hard and tough species of flint, which
-by great labor they sharpened for the head of the instrument.
The difficulty lay in fastening it to the handle.  They cut off the
top of a young tree, and making a transverse slit, insert the stone
into the opening.  The parts of the tree growing together close
so firmly upon the stone that it is impossible to move it.  Then
they cut the tree of such length as they judge sufficient for the
handle.
The first boats were hollowed trunks of trees, which the Greeks
termed monoxyla. Where trees could not be found sufficiently
large, it was necessary to join planks together; and sometimes the




32                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY                [BOOK I.
thick and pliable bark of trees, sewed together with the sinews of
animals, formed a light canoe.  The structure and shape of these
vessels were in imitation of the form of a fish.  The head or prow
was sharp and conical; a movable plank in the stern imitated the
action of a fish's tail, and the oars or paddles served the purpose
of the fins in giving motion to the body; such canoes are used to
this day among the North American Indians.
The President Goguet has, with much ingenuity and industry,
collected a great mass of information relative to the origin of the
arts among the nations of antiquity; and to his learned work I
refer the reader who wishes further light on those topics.
The art of agriculture is not practised till society is considerably
advanced, and individuals have obtained a determined share in the
property of the lands which they inhabit.  It had its origin there.
fore in those countries which are by nature most fertile, and which,
producing abundance of food, made the inhabitants stationary, as
they had no incitement to roam  in quest of subsistence.  The
early historians attribute the origin of agriculture to kings; as to
Menes or Osiris among the Egyptians, and Fohi among the Chinese: the meaning of which is no more than this: —that the first
sovereigns, who, with their nation or tribe, occupied a fruitful country and became stationary in it, establishing such regulations regarding property in land as would secure individuals in their possessions, naturally gave rise to the experiments of such proprietors
to fertilize their grounds, to till, to sow, reap and store up their
fruits, which a wandering savage would never think of or attempt.
But while th6 useful arts are the offspring of necessity, and are
therefore in some degree known and practised in the earliest periods of society, the sciences, on the other hand, are less the production of necessity than of ease and leisure.  Before the origin
of the sciences, society must have made great progress.  They presupposed an extensive and populous community, where individuals
have either acquired such opulence from the successful cultivation
of the arts, or from commerce, as to allow them the indulgence of
that ease and immunity from labor which invites to study and
speculation; or they must have been maintained for special purposes by the sovereign or by the community in such a situation
This last was the condition of the priests; and, accordingly, we find
that, among the Egyptians, one of the most ancient and early civilized nations, the priests were the depositaries of all the sciences.
Aristotle informs us that the Egyptian priests consumed the greatest part of their time in abstract studies; and when Herodotus,
Diodorus, or Plato relate any fact with regard to the sciences in
Egypt, they always inform us, that they received it from the
mouths of the priests. Among the Babylonians too, the Chaldaeans or Chaldees, who were their priests, and formed a body distinct from  the rest of -the people, were chiefly occupied in the
study of the sciences.  The name Chaldcean, occurring very fre



CH. I;i.j        SPATE OF THE EARLY NATIONS
quentiy in Scripture as synonymous with soothsayer, shows the
nature of those sciences which they chiefly cultivated.*  It is
not at all improbable that the frivolous and absurd science of judicial astrology, which has its origin in the prevailing passion of the
uninstructed mind to dive into futurity, was the first motive that
led men to the attentive observation of the motions of the heavenly bodies  and consequently that superstition was the parent of
that useful and sublime science of astronomy.j- It is certain that
to those Chaldeans or soothsayers the best informed authors of
antiquity have joined in attributing the first astronomical discoveries.  According to Diodorus, they had observed the motion of
the planets; they had divided the zodiac into twelve signs, and
each sign into thirty degrees; and they had ascertained the precise
length of the year very near to the truth.
As an attention to their own preservation is the first care of
mankind, we may naturally conjecture, that among those sciences
to which in the early nations men would chiefly devote their attention, that of medicine would have a principal place. All savage nations have a pharmacy of their own, equal in general to
their wants.  Luxury creating new diseases requires a profounder
knowledge of medicine and of the animal economy.  Savages are
often eminently skilful in the knowledge of the virtues of plants in
the cuLre of diseases, and are very dexterous in the treatment of
wounds.  But without the knowledge of the internal structure of
the body, medicine can hardly deserve the name of a science.
And we are certain that anatomy could only have been practised
in an advanced state of society, when arts had attained a considerable degree of perfection.  The Jews, we know, in the days of
Moses, used in some operations of surgery a sharp stone instead
of a knife; a certain proof that they could not have dissected a
human body.  And although the Egyptians practised very early
the evisceration and embalming of bodies, we hear nothing of any
attempts at anatomy till the age of the Ptolemies, after the time
of Alexander the Great, when, as we learn from Pliny, those monarchs established a medical school at Alexandria, and commanded
dead bodies to be dissected, for the inmprovement of medicine and
surgery; a circumstance which seems to indicate that it was at
that time a new practice.-But of the arts and sciences of this
remarkable people, the Egyptians, as well as of their government,
laws, and manners, I propose to treat more particularly in the next
chapter.
* Although Chaldaea is the appropriate name of that region of Assyria in
which Babylon was situated, the term Chaldeaan was used, not only in Scripture
but by the ancient profane authors, to denote an astrologer or? soothsayer.
t Kepler remarks, that astrology is the foolish daughter of a wise mother;
but It is more probable that the genealogy was just the reverse,-abnd that the
rvwie daughter sprangfrom the foolish mother.
VOL. I.                   5




t                     UNIFVERSAL HISTORY              i3, B;O  
CHAPTER IV.
Or TR?  EGYPTIANS-Early Civilization-Inundation of the Nile-Govern
ment -Laws-Manners-Arts-Obelisks an)d Pyramids-Sciences-Philoso.
phical Opinions-Character.
TIIE Egyptians are so remarkable a people, and boast of such
extraordinary progress in civilization and in the arts, while the rest
of the world was comparatively involved in darkness and ignorance, that their early history deservedly claims a preferable share
of attention to any of the cotemporary nations of antiquity.  It is
highly probably too, that from this people, as from a focus of illumination, most of the European nations have, by the natural progress of knowledge, received a great part of their instruction both
in the arts and in the sciences.   The Egyptians instructed and
enlightened the Greeks; the Greeks performed the same beneficial office to the Romans, who, in their turn, instructing the nations whom  they conquered or colonized, have transmitted the
rudiments of that knowledge which the industry and the genius of
the moderns are continually extending and advancing to perfection.
It is probable that the Egyptians were among the most early
civilized of the nations of the earth; and hence arises some excuse for that vanity, which they possessed in common with most
nations, of attributing to themselves a most prodigious antiquity.
In the chronicles recorded, or more probably fabricated by Manetho, the Egyptian monarchy had subsisted before his time (300
years A. C.) for more than 100,000 years.  Laying little weight
on such extravagant computations, we may conclude with some
reason, that at least they were a very ancient and early civilized
people.  It is evident from the books of Moses, that in the time
I,f Abraham, about 430 years after the flood, Egypt was a populous country, the seat of a very splendid and well-regulated mon,
archy.  In the days of Jacob, we see further proofs of.its civili
zation: the kingdom  divided into departments or municipalities;
ministers for state-affairs, with whom the sovereign held council;
prisons for the confinement of criminals, which argues a system of
penal laws properly enforced; a priesthood enjoying settled revenues; a trade in slaves-all these circumstances indicate a grea
advancement in civilization, and a proportional antiquity.
M. Voltaire, who is frequently more fanciful, than judicious in




cIaI. Iv].                   EGYPT.                           35
nis conjectures, and gives too much scope to theory in his historical
writings, is inclined to question the common opinion of the antiquity of the Egyptian nation; and imagines that the c6untry of
Egypt ws not peopled till the neighboring African or Arabian
tribes haW made such advancement in agriculture and in the arts,
as to regulate and turn to their advantage those periodical inundations of the Nile, which, says he, must have rendered that country uninhabitable for four months in the year.  But here the theory
is 6t variance with the facts.  The periodical inundation of the
Nile originally extended over a very narrow tract only of the count
try of Egypt, nor were its benefits at all considerable, till the art
and industry of the people, by intersecting the adjacent lands with
numberless canals, and making large reservoirs in the tipper country to let down the water through these canals, contrived to spread
the inundation over a much greater extent of ground than it would
naturally have covered.  There never were any efforts made to
restrain those inundations, which the Egyptians justly considered
as their greatest blessing, and the source of their country's fertility. All their endeavors, on the contrary, were, and are at
this day, to extend their effects over as great a portion of the
land as possible.   So  far, therefore, fromn any argument arising
from the nature of this country against the antiquity of its population, a very strong argument thence arises in favor of that antiquity; for, where nature had done so much in fertilizing the
banks of a fine river, and an easy method presented itself of extending that fertility over all the level country, it is probable that
there men would first form stationary settlements, and the art of
agriculture be first practised, where nature so kindly invited them
to second her operations by art and industry.
And here it may be incidentally remarked, that the cause of
the periodical inundation of the Nile has been satisfactorily explained by Pliny (Nat. Hist. 1. v. cap. 9), and nearly in similar
terms by Dr. Pococke. The north winds, says this writer, which
begin to blow about the end of May, drive the clouds formed by
the vapors of the Mediterranean to the southward, as far as the
mountains of Ethiopia, where, being stopped in their course, and
condensed on the summits of those mountains, they fall'down in
violent rains, which continue for some months.  The same winds
likewise sensibly increase the inundation in the level country at
the mouth of the river, by driving in the water from the Mediterranean.  The increase bf the river necessary to produce a season
of fertility is from fourteen to sixteen cubits.  If the waters do
not rise to fourteen, according to the Nileomneter, which is a stone
pillar erected on the point of an island in the river between Geeza
and Cairo, it is accounted a season of scarcity, and the inhabitants
have a proportional abatement of their taxes; if they rise to six
teen cubits, there is generally an abundant harvest.  We have
already observed that, without the aid of art, these inundations




36                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY                [BO0r A
would be confined to; narrow portion of the country, and in that
case the height of the flood would be more prejudicial than
serviceable.  It is by the regulation and distribution of the waters
by means of numberless canals, which extend to a considerable
distance, that the benefit of the periodical floods is' rendered
general. When the inundation has attained its height, as'marked
Dy the Nileometer, a proclamation is made for the opening of
these canals; and they are likewise shut by a similar -order of government when the season of irrigation is over.:The earliest accounts of the Egyptians mention them as living
under a monarchical government; and, as in most monarchies,
the crown, probably at first elective, had soon become hereditary.
The power of the sovereign, however, if we may credit the
accounts of ancient authors, who, in the history of this people,
have in many things palpably displayed both exaggeration and
falsehood, was admirably limited by'the laws, which even went
so far as to regulate the stated employments of the prince during
all the hours of the day.  These notions, it must be owned, are
not easily reconcileable with the ideas which the same authors
give of the despotic authority of those princes; of the luxury
and splendor in which they lived; the superstitious venferation
that was paid to their persons; and the abject slavery in which
the lower ranks of the people were kept, whom the sovereigns,
for the gratification of their own vanity, employed in the severest
labor in constructing those immense fabrics which seem to have
been reared for no other end than to excite the wonder of
posterity.
The -cares both of civil government and of religion seem  in
Egypt to have been committed to the same hands. Besides the
ordinary offices of government, a principal part of the duty of the
monarch was the regulation of all that regarded religion. The
priests, on the other hand, who formed a very numerous body,
and had a third part of the lands allotted to them in property,
were not confined to the exercise of religious duties, but filled
the highest offices in the state.  They had the custody of the.
public records; it was their province to impose and levy the
taxes; to regulate weights and measures; and out of their order
were chosen all the magistrates-and judges.
The supreme national tribunal in Egypt was composed of thirty
judges; ten from each of the three principal cities of Heliopolis,
Thebes, and Memphis; and to these judges a solemn oath was
administered on their entry upon office, that even the commands
of their sovereign should not sway them in the execution of their
duty.  The administration of justice was no burden on the subjects; the tribunals were open to all ranks of the people, without
expense of any kind; as no professional advocates were employed
for the pleading of causes, and the judges, whose business it was
to investigate and do justice, were supported at the expense of




oE. xv.]                   EnGYPT.                        37
the state; a regulation having a considerable show of wisdom if
obtaining in a small state at an early period of society, but evidently not adapted for an extensive and highly civilized community.
The penal laws of Egypt were remarkably severe.  Whoever
had it in his power to save the life of a citizen, and neglected that
duty, was punished as his murderer; a law which we must presume admitted of much limitation according to circumstances.  It
appears to have been from the same motive of preserving the lives
of the citizens, that if a person was found murdered, the city
within whose bounds the murder had' been committed was obliged
to embalm the body in the most costly manner, and bestow on it
the'most sumptuous funeral. Perjury was justly held a capital
crime; for there is no offence productive of more pernicious consequences to society. Calumniators were condemned to the same
punishment which the calumniated person either had or might
have suffered, had the calumny been believed.  The citizen who
was so base as to disclose the secrets of the state to its enemies,
was punished by the cutting out of his tongue; and the forger of
public instruments or private deeds, the counterfeiter of the current
coin, and th6 user of false weights and measures, were condemned
to have both their hands cut off.  The laws for the preservation
of the chastity of women were extremely rigid: emasculation was
the punishment of him  who violated a free woman, and burning
to death was the punishment of an adulterer.
The President Goguet ranks among the penal laws of the
Egyptians a singular regulation of policy which is mentioned by
Diodorus.  It is generally known how  much the ancients concerned themselves with regard to the disposal of their bodies after
death.  To be deprived of funeral rites they considered as one of
the greatest calamities.  The Egyptians did not, like most other
nations, consign the bodies of the dead to destruction; they preserved them by embalming, and celebrated their obsequies with
extraordinary solemnity.  But these funeral honors were never
bestowed unless in virtue of a solemn and judicial decree.  A
court composed of forty judges granted their warrant for every
funeral.  The character of the deceased was rigorously investigated, and if any criminal or improper conduct was proved, the
customary honors were refused to him.  If his life had been virtuous and exempt from all blame, a public panegyric was pronounced on his memory, and permission was granted for the usual
embalming and obsequies.  The most singular and at the same
time the most admirable circumstance attending this customn, was,
that the sovereigns themselves, though venerated during their lives
with an almost superstitious regard, which forbade all scrutiny into
their actions, were yet after death subjected to the same rigorous
and impartial inquest with the meanest of their subjects; and
Diodorus assures us that some of the Egyptian kings had been




38                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [0ooK I
deprived of funeral obsequies, and their memories thus consigned
to infamy, by the judgment of that solemn tribunal.
Among the most remarkable laws of the Egyptians was that of
Amasis, which ordained every individual to appear annually before
a particular magistrate, and give an account of his profession, anti
the manner in which he acquired his subsistence.  A capital
punishment, it is said, was decreed against the person who could
not show that he procured his living by honest means.  We shall
observe a similar institution in treating of the Athenian republic.
The unnecessary contracting of debts was likewise restrained in
Egypt by a singular and very laudable regulation.  The debtor
was obliged to give in pledge the embalmed body of his father, to
remain with the creditor till the debt was discharged.  He who
died without redeeming this sacred pledge was deprived himself
of funeral obsequies.
The population of Egypt was encouraged by many salutary
laws.  The exposing of infants was restrained by the severest
penalties. A man was obliged to rear and educate not only the
children born to him in a state of marriage, but to acknowledge
for legitimate, and' maintain, all the children he had by his slaves
or concubines.  Homicide was punished with death," even when
committed on a slave.
The manners of the Egyptians were very early formed.  We
find the greatest part of those customs which are mentioned by
Diodorus, Herodotus, and others of the ancient historians, to have
been common at the time when Joseph was carried into Egypt.
This people, according to the testimony of all antiquity, discovered
a great constancy of national character, and a singular attachment
to their ancient manners and customs.  But these underwent a
remarkable change in the time of Psammeticus, who began to
reign in Egypt 670 years before the Christian era.  This prince
opened the ports of Egypt, both on the Mediterranean and the Red
Sea, to all strangers, and gave particular encouragement to the
Greeks to settle in his dominions.  He assigned them portions of
land in the country, employed some learned men among them to
instruct the Egyptian youth in the Greek language, and endeavored
by every means to overcome that illiberal prejudice which had
hitherto kept this people sequestered from all other nations.  Such,
likewise, was the policy of Amasis, who reigned about a centtury
after Psammeticus, and who, as he may properly be considered the
last, so he was one of the wisest and the best of the Egyptian
monarchs.  It was. in the reign of his son Psammenitus that
Cambyses overturned this ancient monarchy, and reduced Egypt
into a province of the Persian empire.  But here we are anticipating the order of events.  It is the state of Egypt, the attainments and the manners of the nation before its conquest and
reduction, that we are at present considering.
We must regard the ancient Egyptians as the earliest nation




cn. iv.]                    ~oYPT.                        39
whom history assiires us with certainty to have made any progress
in those arts which conduce to the luxuries or elegancies of life.
They understood very early the use of metals, both in the fabrication of serviceable utensils, in ornamental decorations, and in the
coining of money as a medium of commerce.  Of this we have
abundant evidence both from the sacred and profane historians.
The science of architecture was early brought to great perfectiorN in Egypt.  The antiquity of those immense structures which
yet remain in that country is extremely uncertain.  It seems
peculiar to the climate of Egypt, that time appears scarcely to
make any sensible impression on those monuments of human
industry.  The cause is plausibly assigned by De JMaillet, in his
Description de 1'Egypte.  Rain and frost, says that author, which
in other countries are the destroyers of all the works of art which
are exposed to the air, are utterly unknown in Egypt. The
structures of that country, its pyramids and its obelisks, can
sustain no injury unless from the sun and wind, which have scarce
any sensible effect in wasting or corroding their materials.  Some
of the Egyptian obelisks, which are supposed to be more ancient
than the pyramids, and consequently above 3000 years old, are
entire at this day: one in particular may be seen at Rome, which
was transported thither by Augustus, and which Pliny says was
supposed to be older than the time of Sesostris.  Those immense
masses, consisting of one entire block of granite, were hewn in the
quarries of Upper Egypt, whence they were conveyed by water
to the place where they were to be erected.  The contrivance for
transporting them is described by Pliny, and is equally simple and
ingenious.  The Nile runs near to the base of those mountains
where the quarries are situated. A canal was cut from the river
to the spot where the obelisk lay, and made to pass under it, so
as to leave the stone supported by its two extremities resting on
either bank of the canal.  Two broad boats were then loaded with
a great weight of stones, so as to sink them so deep in the water
as to allow them to pass freely under the obelisk: when immediately under it, the stones were thrown out; the boats, of consequence, rose in the water, and bore up the obelisk, which thus
passed along the canal into the Nile, and was thence gtided by
other canals to the place where it was to be erected.   Of the
purpose for which these obelisks were reared we can only form
conjectures, as the ancient writers give us no information.  It has
been supposed that they were intended to serve as gnomons for
astronomical purposes, or to determine the length of the solar year
by the measure of the meridian shadows: but their situation upon
uneven ground, and the number of them, sometimes three or four
erected in the same place, give no countenance to that idea. Pliny
indeed tells us that one of the Egyptian obelisks which was brought
to Rome and placed in the Campus'Martius, was applied by
Augustus' to serve the purpose of a gnomon to an immense sun-.




40                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [CBOKo  I
dial, which was engraven on a level pavement of stone at the base
of the obelisk; but as he terms this a new and admirable use of
the obelisk, we -must thence infer that it was different from their
original purpose, which was probably to commemorate or record
either public events in the history of the nation, or to be registers
of the seasons as affected by the periodical inundations of the
Nile.
The whole country of Egypt abounds with the remains' of'
ancient magnificence.  There is reason to believe,, that Thebes,
in Upper Egypt, was, at the time of the Trojan war, one of the
most opulent and best-peopled cities in the universe.  The ancient
authors assure us that no city in the world equalled it in ornamental buildings.  Diodorus mentions in particular four temples,
the largest and most ancient of which remained at the time,lhen
he himself was in Egypt (about A. D. 20) and was half a league
in circumference.  Its hundred gates mentioned by Homer, which
could each send out 200 horsemen and chariots, is a bold poetical
exaggeration; but if the ruins, yet visible at Luxor, as described
by Pococke, Granger, and later travellers, are, as they have been
generally supposed, the remains of Thebes, they give very high
ideas of the extent and magnificence of that ancient city.
The pyramids in the neighborhood of Memphis have been by
some authors assigned to the age of Sesostris; but this era, which
is itself extremely uncertain, is, according to all probability, much
too early for the date of those structures.  There is ground to
believe that they did not exist in the age of Homer; for that poet,
who firequently mentions Egypt, and is fond of relating singularities of that country, says nothing of the pyramids, and makes no
mention of Memphis, though that city lay in the direct way to
Thebes.  Artstotle has made this observation; and it has hence
been inferred, with much probability, that in the age of Homer
those stupendous fabrics either did not exist or were but just
building.  Homer, according to the most probable authorities,
lived about 900 years B. c., which brings the date of the pyramids,
if then building, nearly to the age assigned them by Diodorus.
But neither the age nor the builders of those structures are known
with any'degree of certainty; a just reward, as Pliny well remarks,
of the vanity of such undertakings.
The description of those remarkable monuments has been given
by many travellers. A more curious investigation would be to
discover the manner in which those immense piles were reared, as
well as the purpose for which they were erected. The first,
however, does not fall within the province of a work of this nature:
I content myself, therefore, with observing, that the President
Goguet, in his Origin of Laws, vol. iii., has given a very plausible
and curious account of the construction of the pyramids, resting
chiefly on the authority of Herodotus, to which I refer the reader.
On the second head, it may be remarked, that the Egyptians




C11. x V.],                     dPT                                 41
entertained the belief that death did not separate the soul from the
body, but'that the connection remained as long as the latter continued entire' and unconsumed.  It was, therefore, their utmost
care to preserve the carcasses of the dead from the natural decay
from corruption, as well as from  accidental violence.  Hence the
practice of embalming the dead, and of depositing them in places
secured from all injury. The bodies of the rich were preserved
at a vast expense by taking out the corruptible viscera, filling the
cavity with the strongest and most costly spices and unguents,
wrapping them  round  in numberless folds of linen, impregnated
with resinous substances, incrusting them with thick coats of paint,
and lastly, casing them  in thick boxes of the most durable species
of wood:  The bodies of the inferior classes of the people were
simply. injected with some composition which  exsiccated the en
trails and fleshy parts, and were covered over by a cheaper and
simpler process, with some resinous substance which excluded tile
air." From   a custom  already mentioned, regarding the  pledging
of these mummies as a security for debts, it would appear that it
was the practice to keep them  unburied at least for the course of
one generation.  After that period, they were deposited in caverns,
dug in dry and rocky situations, of which they concealed the
entrance with the utmost care and artifice of construction.  The
sovereigns, who could command the labors of their subjects,
thought they could not employ them  better than in building such
repositories for their bodies after death as should be proof against
the injuries of time, and even in some measure set human malice
at defiance; for the demolition of a pyramid,' considering the
immense blocks of stone of which it is formed, would be a work
attended with such  labor and difficulty, that no ordinary motive
could prompt to it.*
*The largest of the pyramids is an equilateral square, of which each side
measures at the base 693 English feet. The stones, of which it is composed.
are many ofthem 3P feet in length, 4 in height, and 3 in breadth. The super
ficial contents of the area are 480,249 feet, or something more than 11 English
acres. The height of the pyramid is 481 feet, which is.about the height of' the
top of the cupola of St. Paul's church in London. It rises from the base to the
apex in steps of near 4 feet in height, and the summit is a square platform of 13
feet, composed of 10 or 12 massy stones. This form of construction in the
manner of steps was probably given to the building that it mnight receive a
coating of marble, by laying upon each step a block of a prisnmatical form,
Swhich would thus bring the exterior of the building to a smooth surface, which
is the appearance of most of the smaller pyramids at this day. A late traveller,,Mr. Bruce, has hence formed a new opinion with regard to the construction of
those masses.  It is his notion that they have been formed out*of immense
insulated rocks, which stood upon the spot; and which, after having been
hewn into a pyramidal form, were incrusted or coated over with a mason-work
of marble or stone. This idea, if just, would render the construction of those
vast piles considerably easier, and more within the compass of human industry,
than the common opinions regarding the mode of their fabrication. "It has
been a constant belief," says Mr. Bruce, " that the stones composing those
pyramids have been brought from the Libyan mountains; although any one
VOL.- I.                    6




42                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                  [BOOK I
It must be allowed, that those monuments which remain to us
of the works of art among the Egyptians, though venerable on
account of their antiquity, and sometimes exhibiting a grand and
sublime appearance from their immensity, are extremely defective
in beauty and elegance.  How infinitely inferior, in point of taste,
are the pyramids, the obelisks, the sphynx and colossal statues,
the pillars of Luxor, to the simplest remains of the ancient temples
in Greece!  In architecture, one of the most obvious inventions,
and one of the greatest improvements, both in point of utility and
beauty, the construction of an arch, was quite unknown to the
Egyptians.  This defect gives an awkward and heavy appearance
to their buildings, and must have occasioned a vast expense of
labor, which might otherwise have been spared.  In the arts of
painting and sculpture, those specimens, of which a vast ummber
have remained entire to our days, are, in general, greatly deficient
in elegance and beauty. In the Egyptian statues, we may observe
a perfect knowledge of the human proportions, but without any
capacity in the artist to give to his figures animation or action.
We may relnark, in general, with regard to the remains of the arts
in Egypt, that they either occasion surprise from  their immensity,
and the prodigious labor and cost employed in their construction,
or are objects of curiosity on account of the very early period at
which they were executed; but, considered as objects of taste,
they afford but a small degree of pleasure to the critical eye.
As the Egyptians were more early acquainted than any other
nations of antiquity with the useful, and even the elegant arts,
they were no less eminent for their early cultivation of the sciences. - The arts and sciences are indeed so intimately connected,
that there can be no great progress in the one, without a proportional'advancement in the other; as for example, architecture,
which requires a knowledge of geometry and the laws of meclianics; the working of metals, dyeing, which presuppose an acquaintance. with chemical principles.     When we see," says Aillot,'the Egyptians surveying their lahds with precision, distributing
the waters of the Nile  by numberless canals, measuring with
exactness the increase of the river, making and employing various
species of machinery, measuring time, and calculating the revolutions of the stars, we must suppose them  to have attained a considerable proficiency in the science of mathematics.  The Egypwho will. taste the pains to remove the sand on the south side, will there find
the solid rock hewn into steps. And in the roof of the large chamber, where
the sarcophagus stands, as also in the top of the roof of the gallery, as you go
tip into the'chamber, you see large fragments of the rock; affordinrg an unanrwerable proof, that those pyramids were once huge rocks, standing where
they now are; that some of them, the most proper from their form, were chosen
fobr the body of the pyramid, and the others hewn down into steps, to serve for'the superstructure, and the exterior parts of them."-Bruce's Travels into
Egypt and Abyssinia, vol. i.




CM. Iv.]                    EGYPT.                           43
tians understood thle division of the zodiac into twelve signs,
which argues a considerable advancement in astronomy.  They
were able to calculate both solar and lunar eclipses.  Thales, who
owed all his astronomical knowledge to the Egyptians, predicted
that famous eclipse of the sun 585 years before the Christian era,
which separated the armies of the Medes and Lydians at the
moment of an engagement.  The position of the pyramids, most
exactly corresponding to the four cardinal points, is, not without
reason, urged as a proof of the knowledge of the Egyptians in
astronomy; for it requires, even at present, no mean knowledge
in that science to trace a meridian line with perfect accuracy.  It
is probable, too, that the Egyptians had an idea of the motion of
the earth, since Pythagoras, who has given plain intimations of
that opinion, is known to have acquired his astronomical knowledge
in that country."
I have already taken notice of the very limited knowledge
which the Egyptians possessed of medicine till the age of the?Ptolemies, when an anatomical school was founded at Alexandria.
With regard to their philosophical opinions, they maintained
themselves so mysterious a silence, and the accounts of those few
of the ancients who were admitted to a knowledge of their mysteries are so obscure and imperfect, that it is, at this day, scarcely
possible to attain to any distinct ideas regarding either their moral,
physical, or theological doctrines.  On the one hand, it seems a
plain inference, that if the morality taught by the priests was not
more pure than what was practised by the people, the Egyptians
would certainly merit on that score no encomium.  On the other
hand, we must conclude, that if the moral doctrines of Pythagoras
and of Plato, who both studied in Egypt, were learned in that
school, their speculative opinions were right, whatever we may
judge of their practice.  In theology, too, while the superstitious
worship of the common people was so grossly absurd as to draw
on them the ridicule of all other nations, the. secret doctrines of
the priests are generally" allowed to have been pure, refined, and
rational.  One Great Intelligence was supposed to preside over
ail nature.  Subordinate spirits, portions of that Intelligence, presided over the actions of mankind, as the guardians of the hulnan
soul, which was derived from the same divine original, but was
destined to undergo a certain number of transmigrations through
different bodies, before it was reunited to the great parent-spirit.
They believed in the immortality of the soul.  Diodorus tells us
that they esteemed the present state of existence to be of no value
in comparison with that which was to come, and which was to be
the reward of a life spent in this world in the practice of virtue.
The Egyptians supposed the material world to have arisen fiom
the joint operation of three principles.  The first was the Great
Intelligence or universal spirit-the anima mundi-which  gives
form to the universe and to all its parts. The second was Matter,




44                   tUNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 [BOOK L
which they supposed to have existed from  all eternity.  The
third was the Nature of that Matter, which, from its imperfection,
opposed that good which the universal spirit always aimed at producing, and frequently  contaminated  his works with evil.  To
these three principles, in their mythology, they gave the appellations of Osiris, Isis, and Typhon.  The priests illustrated these
radical doctrines by numberless allegories and fables, which, being
literally received by the vulgar, produced a thousand absurdities
in their worship and opinions, while the real meaning was known
but to a few.
We have seen in the Egyptians, a people remarkable for their
early civilization-for the antiquity of their government, the systematic order of their civil policy, the wisdom  of many of their
laws, and their singular progress in the arts-at a. period when
almost all the nations of the earth were sunk in ignorance and
barbarism.  It must, therefore, without doubt, appear extraordinary
that, with all these advantages, the character of this people' as
held extremely low, and even de'pisable among the contemporary
nations of antiquity.  This peculiarity' may, perhaps, be traced
up to a single cause.  They were a people who chose to sequester themselves firom the rest of mankind, and obstinately or fastidiously refused all correspondence with other nations. They were
not known to them by their conquests; they had no connection
withl them  by their commerce; and they had a rooted antipathy
to the manners, and even to -the persons of all strangers.
To illustrate the preceding observation: the Egyptians, properly speaking, were never a military people.  The foreign conquests
of Sesostris have been much vaunted by some of the ancient historians, and have in part at least, obtained credit with some of the
moderns.  It may, perhaps, appear a blamable degree of skepti~
cism to doubt the reality of those distant expeditions of Sesostris
altogether; yet for three reasons I should incline to that opinion.
The first is, that such expeditions must have required such extensive armaments as the country of Egypt at no period of its history
could ever have furnished. The army of Sesostris which he led
into Asia is said to have amounted to 600,000 foot, 24,000 horse,
and 27,000 armed chariots: a force which it may be boldly averred is ten times beyond what the narrow territory of Egypt could
ever have maintained or equipped.  Secondly, no reasonable motive could urge a sovereign of Egypt to adopt such projects of
conquest, to which the national character of his people and their
extraordinary prejudices must have offered the strongest resistence.
And, lastly, it has never been pretended that the Egyptians gained the smallest accession of territory, or derived any advantage
whatever from  those prodigious, conquests.  In every  authentic
period of their history, the character of this African people has
been feeble and unwarlike.  They had a strong turn to the arts of
peace; and sought to provide for that security which is favorable




cH. iv.] -                 EYPT.                            45
to them, by keeping on foot a pretty numerous militia, for defence
in case of invasion fromn  other nations; but even this with little
effect, for they were successively subdued, and enslaved by almost
all the predominant powers of antiquity.
With regard to any intercourse with other nations by commerce,
the Egyptians had so little genius of that sort, that while the Red
Sea wa's left open to all the maritime nations who chose to frequent
it, they would not sutffer any of those foreign vessels to enter an
Egyptian port.  They had no ships of their own, for their country produced no timber fit for the construction even of the small
boats employed in navigating the Nile, which obliged them to use
baked earth for that purpose, and sometimes reeds covered with
varnish.  They held the sea in detestation, from a religious prejudice, and they avoided all intercourse with mariners.  We may
judge, then, with what probability the ancient writers tell us of
tilhe naval armament of Sesostris, consisting of 400 long ships of
war.  Whence came the timber, whence the skill to construct
thlem, and whence the mariners to navigate them?
Towards the decline of the Egyptian monarchy, the sovereigns
of that country began to pay some attention to commerce.  Bocchoris, who reigned about 670 years before the' Christian era, published, as Diodorus informs us, some very wise laws relative to
that object; and in this he was imitated by some of the succeeding princes.  Psammeticus, who lived about a century after him,
encouraged foreign nations to resort to the Egyptian ports, and
allowed some Greeks to form  commercial settlements upon the
coasts.  Nechos, his successor, with the same view, attempted the
renewal of a project, which is said to have been first conceived by
Sesostris, of joining the Red Sea with the Mediterranean by a
canal from one of the branches of the Nile; but this great work
was not completed till 400 years afterwards, by Ptolemy Philadelphus.*  The genius of Nechos was extremely opposite to the
general character of his people.  He is said to have equipped a
fleet on the Red Sea, which he wisely manned with Phmenician
navigators, with instructions to circumnavigate the continent of
Africa, a voyage which we are toli. they accomplished in three
years; a fact, which, considering the period of time (610 B c.,)
we need not add, is altogether incredible.
The singularity of the Egyptians with respect to manners, and
their obstinate attachment to customs and practices, many of them
repugnant to reason and the ordinary feelings of mankind, cbn
tributed more than any other cause to draw on them the aversion,
and excite the ridicule of other nations.  They had not only, as
already remarked, an antipathy to all strangers; but some of their
* A part of this canal -is still visible, running from Cairo to the north-east of
the Berkel-el-Hadj, or, Lake of the Pilgrims, where it loses itself.




46                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK jv
regulations seem  calculated to encourage political disunion, anc
dislike to each other.  All professions in Egypt were hereditary,
a piece of policy which has received from some authors much encomium, but which deserves much more to be condemned than
applauded.  If the same dispositions and the same talents descended invariably from father to son, we might agree with M. Bossuet
in holding it presumable, that men would execute in greater perfection what they had always seen done, and what had been their
sole employment from infancy; but daily experience shows that
neither talents nor inclinations are invariably hereditary, and therefore the argument is futile.  But not only were all professions
hereditary among this people; the rank and dignity of each was
most'scrupulously settled, nor could any eminence of merit, or of
fortune, entitle an individual to higher respect or honor than what
belonged to the meanest of his class; a policy repressive of all
emulation, and of that generous ambition on which every species
of excellence depends; while, at the same time, it was a fertile
source of jealousy, animosity, and disunion.
Another species of the'most pernicious policy among the Egyptians, which contributed not only to render them contemptible to
other nations, but to foment discords among themselves, was the
variety and difference of the objects of religious worship in the
different provinces of the kingdom.  The same animals that were
regarded, in one province, with the most superstitious reverence,
were, in another, the objects of detestation and abhorrence.  In
one quarter, they tamed the crocodiles, adorned them  with gold
and jewels, and worshipped them; in another, they killed those
animals without mercy.  In one province, the most sacred animal
was a dog; in another, they reckoned dog's flesh the most delicate
food. Cats were adored in one district, and rats in another. From
these differences arose perpetual and violent animosities; for there
are no contentions so rancorous as those which spring from the most
trifling differences in religious worship or opinion.  " The multitilde," says Diodorus, "have been often inflamed into the highest
pitch of fury, on account of the sacrilegious murder of a divine
cat."
The extravagant length to which the Egyptians carried their
veneration for their consecrated animals *exceeds all belief.  The
sacred crocodile, the dog,,or the cat, were. kept in an enclosed
space set apart, adjoining to the temples dedicated to their worship.
They were constantly attended by men of the highest rank, whose
business was to provide them in the choicest victuals, which they
were at pains to dress in the manner they supposed most agreeable to their palate. They washed them in warm baths, and anointed them with the richest perfumes.  The finest carpets were
spread for them to lie on: chains of gold and circlets of precious
stones were hung around their legs and necks: and when the stupid animal, insensible of the honors that were bestowed on him,




CH  IV.]                    EGYPT.                          47
died like the rest of his kind; the whole province was filled with
lamentation; and not only the fortunes of the priests, but the
public revenue was without scruple expended in the performance
of the most sumptuous funeral obsequies.
It is not then to be wondered that the superstitions of the Egyptians were a copious subject of ridicule to other nations of antiquity, and contributed to degrade them in the opinion of those whose
objects of religious worship, if not fundamentally more rational,
were less ludicrous, less childish and unmanly. What could they
think of a nation, where, as Herodotus tells us, if a house was on
fire, the father of a family would take more pains to save his cats
than his wife and children; where a mother would be transported
with joy at the news of her child being devoured by a crocodile;
or where the soldiers, returning from a military expedition, would
come home loaded with a precious booty of dogs, cats, hawks, and
vultures?
The general character of the Egyptians, with respect to morals,
contributed likewise to draw upon them the disesteem of other
nations.  They have been generally accused by the ancients of
great cunning  and  insincerity in their dealings.   The  term'AL4yvnuea8et, (to play the Egyptian,) was proverbially used by the
Greeks to signify cozening  and overreaching.  The contempt
they expressed for strangers naturally stamped them  with the
character of a vain and insolent people.  Pliny, in his Panegyric
on Trajan, terms  them ventosa et insolens natio.  With respect to
modesty and decorum, their manners were shamefully loose. In
the festivals in honor of their gods, they committed such indecencies, that Herodotus, Diodorus, and others of the ancient writers,
not over delicate themselves, have expressed a reluctance to enter
into particular details.
Upon the whole, we may sum up in a few words the character.
of the Egyptians.  They were a people remarkable for their early.
civilization, and for the systematic arrangement of their government and civil policy; though many of their particular institutions
and usages were extremely faulty and impolitic. Their early
subjection to laws, and their acquaintance with the arts and sciences, attracted the admiration of other nations, who, at first, inferior
to them in those particulars, and instructing themselves from their
acquirements, came afterwards to outstrip them very far in the
same departments.  Their contemptible vanity, which persuaded
them that they had attained in every thing the summit of excellence, and their disdaining to borrow from or imitate the practices
of other nations, sufficiently account for the small degree of improvement in those arts and sciences of which they were the
inventors, and for their never advancing beyond the point of mediocrity.  The character of their mind was feeble; they bad no
emulation, no ardor of enterprise, no ambition of extending their
dominion over nations whom they despised, or of holding inter



48                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK I.
course with them in the way of commerce.  The hatred and con.
tempt which they entertained for others was returned tenfold Ulpon
themselves, for there is no debt so certainly and so liberally repaid
as contempt; and hence we may reasonably suspect exaggeration in
the picture which the ancient writers have drawn of their manners
and morals.  Under the influence of this caution, I have endeavored to describe them  with impartiality, and believe I have assigned them as much merit as they truly deserve.  I shall remark,
in its proper place; the strong resemblance which, in many points,
thley bear to an Asiatic nation, known to Europeans only in mod-.ern times-I mean the Chinese.
CHAPTER V.
OF THE PHENICIANs-Alphabetic Writing-Sanchoniatho-Navigation —Tyre.
AMONG the ancient nations who first showed a considerable degree
of civilization and advancement in the useful arts, the Phcenicians
deserve particular notice.  It seems to rest on as good authority
as can be brought for the origin of any of the useful arts, that it is
to this eastern people that the world is indebted for the invention
of writing, and for the first attempts at commercial navigation.  I
do not think the hypothetical reasoning of'M. de Voltaire has
much weight when he argues that this people, being the earliest
nation which practised commerce, must have first found the expediency of using certain arbitrary characters for the purpose of
carrying on their traffic, and keeping regular accounts.  The Mexicans and Peruvians were acquainted with navigation, and practised
commerce, and were, in other respects, highly polished and refined; yet they knew nothing of writing.  The fact of the Phcenicians having very early attained to the use of writing seems to
rest on better evidence than hypothetical reasoning.  It seems to
be agreed among the best informed writers,- that the fragments of
Sanchoniatho, though their antiquity has been vaunted by Porplyry and Philo considerably beyond the truth, are yet to be regarded as the composition of the. earliest of the profane writers,
and of a much more ancient date than any works of a Greek author.  Sanchoniatho is generally supposed to have been conternporary with Joshua, who died 1443 years before the birth of Christ,




ce. V.]                 THE PHCENICIANS.                    49
and about 500 years before the cities of Attica were united under
Theseus.  What remains of the works of this author are' some
fragments preserved by Eusebius, which were translated from the
Phoenician language into Greek by Philo of Byblos.  They give
an account of the genealogy of the Phoenician gods; of Ccmlus
and of Saturn, and other deities afterwards adopted by the Greeks;
and of the cosmogony or origin of the world;-accounts which
Sanchoniatho says he collected from the most ancient historical
monuments.  The authenticity of these fragments has been questioned,, and they have been supposed to have been forged by Por.
phyry from enmity to the Christian religion, and a desire to show
that the pagans could boast of writings of equal antiquity with the
Books of Moses.  But it has been well observed, in answer to
this supposition, that if Porphyry, or any other person, had made
the forgery for such a purpose, they Would not have fabricated a
mass of nonsense and absurdity, which would throw  ridicule and
disgrace on any system  it was meant to support.  Holding those
fragments, therefore, as authentic, they prove that alphabetic writing was in use among the Phoenicians many ages before the
Greeks had the smallest acquaintance with it.@
To the Phoenicians, all antiquity has joined in attributing the
invention of navigation; or, at least, it seems an agreed point
that they were the earliest among the nations of antiquity who
made voyages for the sake of commerce.  The Canaanites (for it
is by that name that the Phoenicians are known in Scripture) were
a powerful people in the days of Abraham.  Their situation,
occupying a narrow country on the eastern coast of the Meditero
ranean, and confined oneall quarters towards the land by the sur
rounding tribes, naturally induced them  to turn their attention to
navigation.  In the days of Abraham, we learn with some certainty that they had sailed to the coast of Greece; for Inachus,
whose daughter Io they carried off from that country, is generally
supposed contemporary with Abraham.  When we come down to
the time of the Hebrew Judges, we find the Phcenicians so far
advanced as a commercial people as to be able to send colonies
to distant quarters, and to form settlements for trade both on the
European and Asiatic coasts. Among their first settlements were
those of Cyprus and Rhodes.  They then passed into Greece,
into Sicily,' and Sardinia, and thence into the southern parts of
Spain.  They did not confine their voyages to the Mediterranean
Sea, but, passing the straits, established themselves in the Isle of
Gades, and built a settlement anciently named Gadir, now Cadiz.
Stretching southwards from the straits, they formed settlements
* See Gomuet's elaborate Dissertation on the Origin of Alphabetic Writing,
"Orig. des Loix," t. i. 1. ii. c. vi.; and a Dissertation on Sanchoniatho, by the
same author, annexed to the first volume of the same work.
VOL. 1.                   7




50                     UNIVERSAL IIISTORY                 [DBOOK 
likewise on the western coast of Africa.  Strabo informs us that
they had made those settlements a short time after the Trojan
war.
Sidon and ancient Tyre were among the most illustrious of the
cities of antiquity.  The latteri owed its origin to a colony of the
former, and does not seem to have existed in the days of Homer,
who makes frequent mention of Sidon, but says nothing of Tyre
In the book of Joshua, Sidon is denominated the great; and the
triumph of the Israelites, under that illustrious leader, which dispersed the Sidonians, was probably thle occasion of.their founding
the city of Tyre, and transplanting themselves likewise into distant colonies.  Among these, the most illustrious was Carthage,
which came afterwards to be the most formidable rival of the
Roman power; and which, of all the nations whom  they finally
subdued and overwhelmed, was the only one which had seriously
threatened'their own destruction.
Carthage was founded by Dido, the daughter of Belus, king of
Tyre, 869 years before Christ, and 117 before the foundation of
Rome by Romulus.  The outlines of its history we shall afterwards
briefly consider, when, in the course of the Roman history, we
come to treat of the Punic wars.
Ancient Tyre seems to have risen to very great splendor witllin
a short time. from its foundation, and to have surpassed its parent
state in opulence and extensive commerce.  From  the writings of
Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and the other prophets, we must judge
that it was in their time one of the greatest and wealthiest cities
of the universe;' and the profane historians accord in this respect.
with the sacred.  Its prosperity, howevelr, was of no long duration.  The city was besieged in the year 580 before Christ, by
Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, and after a most obstinate resistance was taken in the thirteenth year of'the siege, and utterly
destroyed by the conqueror.  The greatest part of the inhabitants
had saved themselves by flight during this protracted  war; and
they built afterwards the city of New Tyre on an island at no
great distance fiom  the site of the ancient; a city which rivalled
the former in magnitude and splendor, and the capture of which,
by Alexander the Great (332 B. c.,) after a siege of seven months,
was one of the most brilliant exploits of that mighty conqueror.
The Tyrians were extremely industrious in the practice of many
of the useful arts.  They carried the working of metals to great
perfection.  The magnificence of the temple of' Hercules at Tyre
is celebrated by Herodotus, (I. ii., cap. xliv.) who saw it, and
who was particularly struck with two columns, one of molten gold
*Isaiah wrote 768 years B. C., Jeremiah about 200 years afterwards; Ezekiel
prophesied about.595 B. c. See Ezek. c. xxvii. and xxviii., where the wealth
and commerce of Tyre are described in very glowing colors, and the par
ticulars of its trade and man.ufactures minutely specified




UIi VI.]                 THE GREEKS.                        51
and the other of emerald, which in the night-time shone with great
splendor.  The latter was probably of colored glass, as we have
the authority of Pliny for attributing to the Phoenicians the invention of the making of glass; and M. Goguet conjectures,.with
some platusibility, that the column was hollow, and was lighted by
a lamp put within it.  The Tyrian purple is celebrated by all the
ancient authors.   The color was the pure juice of a particular
kind of shell-fish, and being produced in very small quantities,
came thence to be of great value. The moderns are not unacquainted with the fish, but make no use of it, as a richer color is
produced at much less expense from the cochineal insect.
The Tyrian merchants were probably the first who imported to
the Mediterranean, and thence into Europe, the commodities of
india.  They wrested from the Idumeans some commodious ports
upon the Arabian Gulf, from which they had, a regular intercourse
with India; and having occupied Rhinocorara in the Lower
Egypt, which is the nearest port in the Mediterranean to the Arabian Gulf, they had a short and commodious land carriage for
tleir Indian merchandise, till it was thence re-shipped, and con
%"eved to Tyre.'*
CHAPTER VI.
TuaE  RECIAN HiSTORY.-Earliest period of the History of Greece-The
Titans-Cecrops-Chrornicle of Paros-Areopagus-Deluge of Deucalion —
Council of the Amphictyons-Cadmus-Introduction of Letters.
THE rHistory of Greece presents to an inquisitive mind a various
and most instructive field of speculation; and happily, from that
period when its annals become truly important, its history has been
written by very able authors.  The early antiquities of this country are,, it is true, so disguised with fables, that it is extremely difficult to discover the truth.  Yet, in order to understand and profit
by the classical wpiters, especially the poets, it is necessary to
hlave some acquaintance even with those fables; and we know
with considerable precision the period when they cease to mix
themselves with facts, and when authentic history commences.
* See a clear and rational account of the origin of the trade between Egypt,
Arabia, and India, in -Bruce's Travels, b. ii. ch. 1.




5UNIVERSAL HISTORY.            [B00K A
This respectable people was not free from  the common vanity
of nations, of attributing to itself a measure of antiquity far be.
yond all bounds of probability.  The Athenians, indeed, in termn
ing themselves AvTozOoves, seemed to claim for their own nation
an antiquity coeval with the formation of the earth; which was
just as allowable as the boast of the Arcadians, that they were
rqoErvot, 0or- older older than the moon.  But whatever was the origin
of the ancient inhabitants of this country, it is certain, that till
civilized in some measure by colonies of the Eastern nations who
settled among them, they were in a state of the rudest barbarism.
The aboriginal Greeks, under their various denominations of Pelasgi, Aones, Iliantes, Leleges, &c., were a race of savages who
dwelt in caverns, and are said to have been so barbarous, as to
live without any subordination to a chief or leader, to have fed on
human flesh, and to have been ignorant of the use of fire.  The
most ancient colony from  the East that are said to have established themselves among these barbarians are the Titans, a band of
adventurers from Phcenicia or the adjoining coasts, who are gen —
erally supposed to have come thither about the time of Abraham.
We have already seen that the Phoenicians were at this time a
commercial people, trading to all the coasts of the Mediterranean;
but it is evident that no views of commerce could have been their
inducement to settle among a race of savages.  it seems therefore
probable that the fertility of the country had attracted those strangers thither, and that, availing themselves of those advantages
which their superior knowledge and improvements gave them over
the rude inhabitants, they, partly by policy, and partly by conquest,
made themselves masters of the country.  At all events, it is universally allowed that, from  the period of those strangers settling
among them, the Greeks assumed a new character, and exhibited
in some respects the manners of a civilized nation.- The dawnings of a national religion began to appear; for the Titans were a
religious people.  They taught the savages to worship the Phceo
nwxian gods, Ouranos, Saturn, Jupiter, &c., who were nothing
more than deified heroes; and by a progress of ideas not unnatural, this rude people confounded in after times those gods with
the Titans who introduced them.  The feats and achievements of
the Titans, and those wars which had taken place among them,
were believed to have been the exploits and wars of the gods.
1Hence sprung the greatest part of the Greek mythology, and the
numberless fables regarding their gods and demi-gods.
The Titans seem to have been a turbulent people; they weakened themselves by their incessant quarrels and hostile conflicts,
and at length entirely extirpated each other.  The last of the race
was Inachus, who is looked upon as the founde: of the kingdom
of Argos. The city of Argos was built 1856 n. c., by his son
Phoroneus, and the kingdom of Sicyon founded by another of
them. Contemporary with him was Ogyges, king of Attica, in




CH  vi;]'  cEcROPS.                          53
whose time, about 1796 Bi c., is said to have happened that
remarkable inundation which goes by the name of the Deluge ot
Ogyges. As from the time of Ogyges to that of Cecrops there is
no series recorded of the kings of Attica, nor any connected history
of that period-this chasm in the annals of the nation has been by
some writers ascribed'to the ravages of that deluge, by which it is
said the country was depopulated, and lay waste for above two
centuries; but this fact is not supported by any proofs, while on
tihe other hand, the best-informed authors regard the deluge of
Ogyges as nothing more than a partial inundation from an extraordinary overflowing of the lake Copais, in Bceotia, which overspread but a part of the low country, while the rest continued to
be inhabited.
This emergence of the Greeks from  barbarism, which they
owed to the Titans, was only of very short duration. They soon
relapsed into their former savage state; a circumstance which accounts, without the aid of a deluge, for the total silence of the history of this people for a period above 200 years,' till they were again
illuminated by another colony of strangers from  the eastern shores
of.the Mediterranean.  At the head of this second colony was
Cecrops, who, above 1582 years.. c., is supposed to have landed
in Attica, where there was a species of government under Acteus,
but so feebly enforced, that the whole country was the prey of
pirates and robbers.  It was pillaged on the land side by tile
lEones, a people of Boeotia, and by the Carians on the quarter of
the sea.  Cecrops marrying the daughter of Acteus, succeeded to
the sovereignty, and taught his subjects the most effectual way of
resisting those violences, by associating together in small communities, and thus uniting their strength.  He built several cities in
Attica, and is celebrated as an able politician and legislator. Cities
we may suppose were, at this time, a collection of huts like, an
Indian' village; and political regulations extended no further than
to enforce obedience to the chief, and union among the tribe; to
define property, and to give it some small degree of security.
Dark and uncertain as the history of Greece is at this period,
wve must observe that it begins to have a degree of authenticity
fromn a very singular and venerable monument of antiquity, the
Chronicle of Paros, which is preserved among the collection of
marbles brought from Smyrna by the Earl of Arundel, and now
the property of the University of Oxford.
This Chronicle of Paros contains a precious memorial of history
and of chronology, and fixes the eras of many facts left uncertain
by the Greek writers.  Not, however, that it can be pretended
that there arises from this chronicle the same certainty that would
arise from  particular records coeval with the facts; for this monulnent is only the testimony of an author relating facts which had
happened many ages before his own time. But, in the first place,
he is a very ancient author; and, secondly, his chronicle being




54-)                 UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK A
recorded on marble, it is probable that it was cut by public an
thority, and upon the evidence of anterior monuments.  A proof
of its antiquity arises from the circumstance of the dates being
marked by a very ancient method of numeration, which Herodian
mentions as being in use among the Greeks in the early ages.
The numerical letters, instead of proceeding in the order of the
alphabet, are the first letters of the numerical word; as Hfor Hezvre
five; d for dExa;, ten-&c.   An argument of the veracity and
authenticity of the chronicle arises from this circumstance, that in
the whole course of events there recorded, there is no particular
which has the air of fiction. It was the poets only who intermixed
history with fable; the genuine monuments of history seem to
have been preserved pure and unadulterated, making allowance
only for what the credulity of rude and ignorant times might adopt
for truth, and which increasing knowledge has rejected as fabtdlous.
In this chronicle we have the era and duration of the siege of Troy,
but none of the marvellous circumstances with which that event
has been embellished by Homer.  Mention is likewise made of
Ceres, of Hercules, of Mars, and Neptune, but no fabulous exploits are recorded of them.  A great deal of authority seems,
therefore, deservedly due to this chronicle, which marks the dates
of the principal events of the Grecian history, froim the reign of
Cecrops down to the age of Alexander the Great.  Time and
accident have, mutilated both the beginning and the end of this
monument, from which,"if entire, we might probably have learned
both the precise time when it was constructed, and the evidence
of anterior monuments from which the dates were taken; but of
these important circumstances we must be content to remain in
ignorance.
Resting, then, upon the authority of this venerable monument,
we may credit all the principal facts which are recorded even in
the earliest part of this period; while we receive with a proper
degree of skepticismn those circumstances detailed by the ancient
writers which have the air of fable, and which are not to be found
in this chronicle.
Cecrops died childless, and was succeeded by Cranaus, an
Athenian, in whose time happened two remarkable events, both
recorded in the Chronicle of Paros-the judgment of the court of
Areopagus, between Mars and Neptune, two princes of Thess/ly
-and the Deluge of Deucalion.
Ilallirothius, the son of Neptune, had violated Alcippe, the
daughter of Mars, and her father put him to death in revenge for
the injury.  To avoid a war which would have ensued between
these princes on occasion of this quarrel, their difference was submitted to the judgment of the Areopagus, which decreed that the
revenge of Mars was justified by the outrage which he had sustained.  This celebrated tribunal had been instituted by Cecrops,
and soon arose to such reputation, that strangers and even the




CH. VI.]            DELUGE'OF'DEUCALION.                    55
sovereigns of other countries, sometimes submitted their most lm
portant differences to its decision.
The number of its judges is variously reported by historians.
Some writers have limited it to nine; others have enlarged it to
thirty-one, and some to fifty-one: whence it is probable that the
number has been different at different periods.  They were chosen,
from among the wisest and most respectable of the citizens, and,
in the latter times, consisted principally of such as had enjoyed the
dignity of archons or chief magistrates.  They held their meetings
in the open air, upon an eminence in the middle of the city, and
determined all causes during the night; for these two reasons, as
A.thenmus informs us, that neither the number nor thile faces of the
judges being known, there might be no attempts to corrupt them;
and that, as they neither saw the plaintiff nor defendant, their
decisions might be quite impartial.  To these reasons the President Goguet adds a third, that as they sat in the open air, their
proceedings would have been constantly embarrassed by the crowd
which would perpetually have attended them, had they met in the
day-time.  Of the powers of this high tribunal, and the nature of
its jurisdiction, I shall treat more particularly when I come to consider the constitution of the Athenian republic.
The other remarkable event which distinguished the age of
Cranaus, the successor of Cecrops, was the Deluge of Deucalion.
There is no event more celebrated in antiquity than this remarkable inundation. Deucalion is feigned by the poets to have been
the restorer of the human race, and was in all probability the
parent stock of a very numerous progeny in Greece.  But the
deluge which happened in his time was certainly nothing more
than another partial inundation, like the deluge of Ogyges, caused
by the overflowing of some of the Thessalian rivers, probably the
Peneus.  That this deluge was only partial is proved by this fact,
that the succession of the sovereigns in the different states of
Greece preceding the age of Deucalion is preserved, as well as
the series of those who came after his time.  History shows no
chasm in the succession of the kings of Argos, Athens, or Sicyon,
which must Ilave taken place had the deluge been universal.  The
Chronicle of Paros gives its aid in confirmation of this idea; for it
records that Deucalion, after escaping from the flood, retired to
Athens, where he sacrificed to Jupiter Phryxius.   The poets
bave embellished this event with a variety of circumstances extremely similar to those we find in the Mosaiac accounts of the universal deluge; but this proves no more than that these authors had
either seen the sacred writings, whence they had borrowed those
circumstances, or else that the tradition of that great event being
very, generally diffused, they had applied its circumstances to an.nundation which was merely topical, and long posterior to the
other, though still a very ancient event with reference to the age
in which those authors wrote.   Those partial inundations were




56                     MlNVERSA1L HIST'O-RLo'LBOUB; T,
extremely common in Greece.  Xenophon reckons no less than
five of them, and Diodorus Siculus mentions a sixth, posterior to
those enumerated by Xenophon.
Contemporary with Cranaus was Amphictyon, who reigned at
Thermopylke, —a prince of great and comprehensive views, if in
reality Greece owed to him that excellent political institut'on of
the council of the Amphictyons; but I should rather incline to be
of another opinion. The state of Greece was at this time so rude,
and the country broken into so many independent sovereignties,
that we can hardly suppose any single prince to have had sufficient influence to bring about a league of twelve states or cities
with their dependencies, and to make them  adopt one common
interest.  The institution was certainly ancient, but more probably owed its origin to some national emergency. which made the
northern districts of Greece sensible of the necessity of combining
their power and uniting their interests.  The natme AP,(txrtoY'S,
accordingly to its original orthography, makes this conjecture,
which is-the notion of Suidas, more probable.  It is more natural
to suppose the council was so named as being composed of deputies from all the cities around, than that it took its appellation
from a prince of the name of Amphictyon, of. whose history we
know nothing else than this alleged remarkable fact.
The states united in this general council were the Tonians, among
whom were comprehended the Athenians; the Dorians; the Perhoebians; the Baeotians; Magnesians; Achaeans; Pthians; Melians;
Dolopians;.Enianians; Delphians; and Phocians.  They met
twice in the year at Thermopyle, and afterwards at Delphi; two
deputies attending from  each state; and in their deliberations and
resolutions all were on a footing of equality.  Limited at first to
twelve separate republics, this council came afterwards to include
the whole of the Grecian states, according as the principal or leading republics acquired territories belonging to any of the Amphictyonic cities, and thus came to have a voice in the general council.
Thus the Lacedaemonians becoming masters of the territory of
Doris, had their deputies in this council, from which in their own
right they were excluded. Hence the assembly of the Amphictyons, from being at first a partial league of twelve cities, became
a convention of all the states of Greeee.  The deputies sent thither
represented the body of the people, and had full powers to deliberate and to form resolutions on all that regarded the common
interest of the combined states.* The principle of this association
*The nature of the powers supposed to be resident in this council, and the
grievancesagainst which it was intended chiefly to provide a remedy, may be
gathered from the oath taken by the deputies, as we find it recorded in the
oration of iEschines de Fals. Legat.:-" I swear that I will never subvert any
Amphictyonic city; I will never stop the courses of their water, either in war
or peace. If any such outrages should be attempted, I will oppose them by




cH. vl.1                      CAD MUS.                           57
cannot be sufficiently commended.  It made all the leading men
of the several states of Greece personally known to each other,
and led to a commnunication of every sort of knowledge and improvement.  It had a powerful effect in civilizing a rude nation,
and repressing those petty feuds between its separate cantons,
and that encroaching and predatory spirit, so common in such a
state of society, and so hostile to all advancement and general
prosperity.  Without some such bond of union, Greece, firom the
nature of its separate governments, could never have formed a
considerable power in the scale of'the nations of antiquity, nor
ever have withstood the force of such formidable enemies as we.
shall see she had to encounter.
Contemporary with this real or fabulous Amphictyon was Cadmus, who, about 1519 years before the Christian era, is said to
have imported fitom Phcenicia into Greece the art of alphabetic
writing.  The' Phcenician alphabet, which is generally supposed
to be the root of all the others, consisted only of sixteen letters,
and the ancient Greeks had no more for many centuries afterwards.  Before the introduction  of the  Phoenician alphabet by
Cadmus, it is probable that the Greeks used either the hieroglyphic mode, or the more ancient manner of expressing their ideas
by rude pictures.  The word Fqea stv being used to signify either
to worite or to paint, countenances this supposition.  After the introduction of the alphabetic mode, the Greeks wrote, not as afterwards, constantly from  left to right, but alternately from  left to
right and from right to left.  This mode of writing, of which there
are some specimens preserved among the Arundelian marbles at
Oxford, was termed Boustrophedon, from  its resemblance to the
furrows described in ploughing a field.
WTith the art of writing, Cadmus brought likewise from  Phonicia a knowledge of all those arts and sciences which were practised
and cultivated at this time in that earlycivilized country.  Tile
Greeks gradually advancing in improvement, and shaking off their
original barbarism, begin, from this period, to figure as an united
people, and to turn their thoughts, as we shall presently see, to
ambitious and hazardous enterprises.  But, before proceeding to
notice these, I shall here take occasion to offer a few reflections
on the short preceding sketch of the first and rudest period of the
Grecian history.
force of arms, and do my endeavors to destroy those cities which are guilty of
such attempts. If any devastations be committed in the territory of Apollo, if
any shall;be privy to such offence, or entertain any design against the temple,
I will use my hands, my feet, my whole force to bring the offender to just punishment." The latter part of the oath was intended as a guard upon the purity
of the national religion; and this care was always understood to fornl a very
important part of the function of the Amphictyonic council. This oath was
guarded by the most dreadful curses and awful imprecations of vengeance upon
any deputy who should violate the obligations which he thus came urnder.
VOL. 1.                8'




68                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOO3   L.
CHAPTER VII.
Reflections on the first and rudest periods of the Grecian 1-1story —Extreme
Barbarism of the Aborigines —Circumstances which retarded CivilizationOrigrin of the Greek Theology-Uncertainty of Mythological ResearcliesSuperstitious Character of the Greeks-Oracles-Games-Efects of them
on the National Character.
TiE~ topographical appearance of the country of Greece, when
surveyed uplon a map, presents to the view a large irregular peninsula, surrounded on the east, south, and west, by the Mediterranean, wlich deeply indents its coasts, and divided internally by
s'everal large chains of mountains, which, with their lateral branches,
form so many intersections, that the whole face of the country appears cut into a great number of small valleys, surrounded almost
on every side by hills.  Hence, while the coasts of the peninsula
formed a multitude of bays.and harbors, easily accessible to strangers wiho came thither with a view either to colonize or to make
spoil, it must have been extremely difficult for those invaders to
penetrate into the interior parts of the country; and troops of an
enemy, after the conquest of one canton, would find fresh difficulties, and a war to recommence, at every step of their progress.
From the same cause, the internal structure of, the country, it
would necessarily happen, that even after a colony of strangers
had formed a permanent establishment, and begun to spread imp)rovement and civilization around them, the progress of that civilization would be extremely slow.  For the inhabitants of the different cantons living altogether detached, and feeling very few
wants to incite to intercourse or to union, any improvement which
they received would be partial, and very slowly communicated to
their neighboring provinces.  The conformity, indeed, of the language of the Greeks, would seem  to countenance the no.tion of
their having free communication and intercourse; but this general
conformity may be accounted for firom  their having all the same
origin; and if tlhe original language was the same, it must, in such
a state of barbarism, have long remained without. much change,
even though the different districts of the country had no intercourse
with each other.
And here it may be remarked, that the admirable structure bf
the Greek language, highly complicated, yet at the same time




ell VII.]                 TIE GREEKS.                          5{9
wonderfully regular, and at once the most copious and most elegant
of the known tongues, is of itself a proof of that tradition which
attributes the first civilization of this people to a colony of strangers
from one or other of the more polished countries of the East; for
this language, such -as we find it to have been in the days of Homer
and of Hesiod, is a phenomenon altogether inconsistent with the
state of society in which it is found, and with the rude and barbarous manners of the people who used it.  It must, therefore, have
been imported and taught to this people by the colony of a refined
and polished nation among whom it had its birth.
That the ancient inhabitants of this peninsula were rude and
uncultivated savages, is a fact which the moderns have no reasonaLke grounds for doubting, when we find it the uniform belief of the
nation itself in all periods of its annals, and the common opinion
of its best historians.  "Who could imagine," says M. Goguet,
"'that that ingenious people to whom Europe is indebted for all
its knowledge, were descended from savages who wandered in the
woods and fields, without laws or leaders, having no other retreat
but dens and caverns, ignorant even of the use of fire, and so barbarous as even to cat one another?"  Why should we doubt of
these facts, when we know for a truth that other nations, in times
comparatively modern, were upon their first discovery found in a
state equally barbarous?  The inhabitants of the Marian Islands,
when they were discovered by Magellan in 1521, had, till that
tithe, never seen fire, and expressed the utmost astonishment at it.
They believed it to be an animal which fixed itself upon wood and
fed upon it, and when approaching so near as to be burnt, they
thought they were bit by it.  The inhabitants of the Philippine
and Canary Islands were, at their first discovery, in a state of equal
ignorance.  There are, it is true, but few countries in which liglltning is not seen at times, and its effects perceived; but as those
effects are alwavs destructive, a savage would naturally regard the
phenomenon with horror; and if a similar effect should by chance
manifest itself from the collision of hard substances, he would not
readily conceive that it could be turned to useful purposes; and,
therefore, instead of preserving the fire, would naturally either
endeavor to suppress and extinguish it, or, if he found that
impracticable, would fly from it and leave it to its ravages.
That the ancient inhabitants of Greece were antlhropophagi is
no more incredible, than that there are savage tribes at this day in
Asia, Africa, and America, who make a common practice of feeding on human flesh.*  We think of this with horror, and execrate
The New Zealanders, beyond doubt, are cannibals. - See Ioawkeswortlh and
Cooke's last I/oyage in 1777. They eat, however, only their eneimies, and expressed great abhorrence when asked if' they eat their friends who had been
killed. - [See also Earle's Residence in JVew-Zealand, 1833 —Ellis's Polynesian
Researches, 1829 —and Sir Stamford Raffles on Java.J




60                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK I
the idea as shocking and unnatural. We, who do not know what
it is to want the supplies of a vast variety of aliment, study to excite the satiated appetite by skilful combinations and ingenious
refinements of cookery: but we should judge more impartially, if,
while we thought of those bloody repasts, we took likewise into
view the nig ardly provision which nature in many regions of the
earth has made for man; the barren deserts which he inhabits, the
climate which often locks up or annihilates their scanty produce,
and the dreadful extremities to which even civilized man has been
known to proceed for the support of life.  Necessity only, in the
most savage nations, could at first get the better of the strongest
instinct; but that once overcome, a habit is soon acquired, and
will not be laid aside as long as subsistence remains in any degree
precarious.
In a nation so barbarous as we must believe Greece to have
been at this period, there were many circumstances which retarded
the advances to refinement.
The Titans, the first colony of strangers firom  the East, might
have Introduced a degree of civilization, but it could be only temporary.  They taught the Greeks agriculture; but the continual
wars in which they were engaged among themselves rendered the
improvement of the country quite impracticable, for no man had
any security for reaping the fruits of his labor.  These strangers
were extirminated, and Greece, in a few years, relapsed into her
original barbarism.  The second and third colonies from the East
founded a few cities, then termed kingdoms; for every city was a
separate state, and we may form a judgment of the nature of these
states from  this circumstance, that at the time of Cecrops, when
Attica consisted of twelve separate states or cities, the inhabitants
of tile whole district amounted only to 20,000.
The detached situation of the Greeks, of which we have already
taken notice, and the natural barriers between the different cantons,
gave to the inhabitants a certain spirit of independence, which,
even after the foundation of a political union, would very much
resist all attempts towards the establishment of general laws, and,
consequently, afford the greatest obstacles to general civilization.
One powerful engine, best fitted to overcome these obstacles, was
the introduction of a national religion, which Greece, as we have
already observed, owed to those eastern colonies.
It is a very just remark of an ingenious historian,* that the theology of any country is an indication of the state of manners when
that system was first formed.  "By knowing the adventures and
attributes of any false deity, we can pronounce with some certainty what must have been the state of society and manners when
be was elevated to that dignity.  The mythology of Greece plainly
* Robertson's Historical Disquisition concerning India, Appendix, p. 317.




CH. VII.]          THE GREEKS.=-MYTHOLOGY.                  61
indicates the character of the age in which it was formed. It must
have been in times of the greatest licentiousness, anarchy, and
violence, that divinities of the highest rank could be supposed
capable of perpetrating actions, or of being influenced by passions,
which, in more enlightened periods, would be deemed a disgrace
to human nature: it must have been when the earth was still infested with destructive monsters, and mankind, under forms of
government too feeble to afford them protection, were exposed to
the depredations of lawless robbers, or the cruelty of savage oppressors, that the well-known labors of Hercules, by which he
was raised from  earth to heaven, could have been necessary, or
would have been deemed highly meritorious."
What was the original worship of the ancient inhabitants of this
country we are entirely at a loss to know; but barbarous as they
were, they probably had some notions of religion, and receiving
from  strangers a new system  of theology, of which at first their
ideas must have been very confused, they would naturally graft
the one upon the other; as we know that in modern times several
savage nations have done in blending their own idolatries with the
tenets of Christianity.  Hence if we.still trace the gods of the
Phoenicians and of the Egyptians in those of the Greeks, with
respect to the great characterizing circumstances of their powers
and attributes, it is a very fruitless labor which some learned men
have undertaken in attempting to prove a coincidence in all the
minute particulars of their fabulous lives, exploits, and metamorphoses. I know of no subject which has afforded so much disquisition, or so many opposite opinions, as the attempts that have
been made to reconcile the mythologies of different nations, or to
trace up all the absurd fables of the pagan theologies to one
common origin.  It would be idle to enter deeply into a subject
of this nature; yet I think it of consequence to take notice at least
of one theory or system  with regard to the origin of the pagan
mythologies which some very good men have adopted, from  a
mistaken zeal in the cause of religion.  Some of these authors,
with wonderful learning, but with much indiscretion, have attehmpted to show that most of the fables regarding the heathen deities
and their illustrious exploits derive their origin from  the sacred
Scriptures, and are nothing else than the lives and actions of the
first patriarchs vitiated and disguised in passing by tradition to
barbarous and unenlightened nations.  Thus the learned Bochart
finds out the patriarch Noah in the pagan Saturn, his son Shem in
Pluto, Ham in Jupiter Ammon, and. Japhet in Neptune.*  Moses
alone is said to have furnished the idea of Apollo, ~Asculapius,
Priapus, Prometheus, Tiresias, Proteus, Typhon, Perseus, Orpheus, Janus, Adonis; because certain fabulous exploits, attributed
-     Bochart, Thomassin, Cumberland, Vossius, Huet, Fourmont, &o.




62                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY                 [BOOR I
to those deities and heroes, bear a resemblance to some of the
actions of the Jewish legislator.  In like manner they have found
all the heathen goddesses in Zipporah, the wife, or in Miriam, the
sister, of Moses.  One of these learned authors has published a
book which he calls Homer Hebraizing, in which he alleges that
the Iliad and Odyssey are nothing else than a history of the illustrious characters in Scripture under borrowed names.  This fondness for reducing all history of remote antiquity to the sacred
Scriptures, and of making the inspired volumes furnish theology
not only to the Jews, but to all the heathen nations, is of very
pernicious consequence; for what indeed else is it than to say,
that the sacred oracles, designed to instruct mankind in their
highest interests, and the concerns of their eternal welfare, have
produced, in most nations, the wildest and most monstrous fictions,
which are destructive even of morality, and persuade to vice
instead of virtue?'
The extreme uncertainty of all mythological explanations of
the ancient fables is best evinced by comparing together the different solutions which men of ingenuity have given of the same
fable.  This, no doubt, is a digression; but nothing is useless
which illustrates the history of the human mind.  The story of
Proteus feeding his sea-calves upon the beach, and counting them
at noon, with the extraordinary faculty he had of varying his
shape, is explained by the Abbe Banier into an historical fact of a
king of Egypt of that name, who is said to have lived about the
time of the war of Troy; " a wise and crafty prince," says Banier,'" whose cautious temper, guarding him against all dangers, might
well pass for the gift of prophecy which is ascribed to him. As
it must have been extremely difficult to learn his secrets, there
was no impropriety in saying that it was impossible to come at
the knowledge of them but by binding him.  He was, besides,
exceedingly' stately, and. seldom appeared in public, unless about
noon to review his soldiers, which the poets have called counting
his flock: and as his subjects, the Egyptians, lived upon the seacoasts, they were very properly termned sea-calves."  Such is the
account of Proteus by the Abbe Banier, which, it must be owned,
is much less extravagant than many of his explanations.  It were
easy to contrast this with at least half a dozen different explanations of the same fable by other mythologists, all of them opposite
to each other, all equally plausible, or, as some perhaps may
think, equally absurd.   But I shall content myself here with
giving one other explanation of the same fable, by a genius of a
superior order, I mean my Lord Bacon, a-man whose vigor of
imagination was perhaps his most eminent talent; and which,
though in general it was under the chastisement of a most solid
judgment,- seems at times to have eluded the watchfulness of its
monitor, and to have escaped into the regions of extravagance.
He, too, was fond of dispovering in the ancient mythology a great




enH VIi.1           THE GREEKS —MYTHOLOGY.                     6
deal of mysterious and secret wisdom; but his meanings lie for
the most part so very deep, that it is extremely improbable they
should ever have occurred to any but himself, much less to th(se
who devised the fables.
The fable of Proteus, says Lord Bacon, seenis to point at the
secrets of nature, and the various states of matter.  " Proteus, an
old man, signifies matter, the most ancient of all things after God
himself, which resides as in a: cave, under the vast concavity of
the heavens.  He is represented as the servant of Neptune, because the various operations and modifications of matter are wrought
chiefly while it is in a fluid state.  The herd or flock of Proteus
seems to mean nothing else than the several kinds of animals,
plants, and minerals, in which'matter appears to diffuse and spend
itself: so that, after having formed these several species, and as it
were finished its task, it seems to repose, as Proteus, after counting his flock, is feigned to go to sleep.  But Proteus, when any
attempts were made to bind him, is said to have changed into
many different shapes: so matter, if any skilful artist should apply
force, and torture it in order to its annihilation, will change and
transform  itself into a strange variety of shapes and appearances,
but nohing less than the power of the Creator can annihilate or
truly destroy it.  So, at length, running through the whole circle
of transformations, and completing its period, it in some degree
restores itself, if the force be continued.  The prophetical spirit
of Proteus agrees excellently with the nature of matter; for he
who knows the properties, the changes, and the processes of matter,
must of necessity understand the effeets and sum  of what it does,
has done, and can do; though his knowledge extend not to all the
parts and particulars thereof."
Such is the solution of the fable of Proteus by Lord Bacon,
upon wnich I shall only remark, that if this fable had any hidden
meaning whatever, it is highly improbable that it should have
been such as could have occurred to no other but a man possessed
of similar talents to those of its interpreter, a great philosophllical
genius, guided at times by an extravagant imagination.*  The
extreme subtilty and refinement of his solution must convince us
at least that the parable could never hawe answered the end of
instruction, which,Lord Bacon himself supposes to have been the
chief use and purpose of those ancient allegories.  To dismiss the
subject of nmythology, I shall only observe, that researches of this
kind, however ingenious, however they may exercise and amuse
the imagination, are extremely fruitless.  No  subject requires
more acquaintance with history, or demands more labor and re* Bazac says, humorously, "Croyons done, pour l'amour du Chancelier
Bacon, que toutes les folies des anciens sont sages, et tous leurs songes mvs
tares."




64                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK g
search.   But the annals of history are ransacked to very little
purpose if we establish -it for a principle that every extravagant
whim or absurdity that was current in any age or nation must
have had some foundation in reason.  The more we are acquainted
with the human -mind, the more we shall perceive its weaknesses,
its prejudices, its caprices, and its' follies.
To return from this digression-the great engine of the civilization of the Greeks was the introduction of a national religion by
those eastern colonies; and, inspired with the enthusiasm  of all
new converts, it is no wonder that superstition was at this time
their predominant characteristic.  To this age, therefore, and to
this character of the people, we must refer the origin of the
Grecian oracles, and the institution of the public games in honor
of the gods.
With a rude and unenlightened people there is no passion more
strong than the desire of penetrating into futurity.  It would seem
that the less the human mind is aided by experience, or enabled
from  extensive knowledge to form  probable conjectures of the
filture from the past, the more -it is apt to wish for and to believe
the possibility of some secret art or method of obtaining such
anticipated views.  All barbarous nations have their augurs, their
sorcerers, or their oracles.  The Canadian savages have in every
tribe a few crafty impostors, who pretend to foretell future events
by visions, which they have in their sleep, and who are thence
termed dreamers.  When the tribe marches to war, these dreamers
constantly attend in the rear of the troop, and no measure is ventured upon till they are consulted.  The African negroes have
their Obi men and women, who deal in charms and incantations,
and are firmly believed to have the power of dispensing good and
evil fortune at their pleasure.  The sorceries of the Laplander are
well kinown; and the second-sight of the Scottish highlanders: all
proceed from the same source, ignorance and superstition.
A cavern at the foot of Mount Parnassus, near Delphi, was
remarkable for exhaling a mephitic vapor, which, like that of the
Grotto del Cani in Italy, had the effect of stupefying and slightly
convulsing any person who came within its atmosphere. Some
ingenious men had the address to turn this natural phenomenon
to their own advantage and the profit of the neighborhood.  A
temple was built on the spot to Apollo, the god of divination.  A
priestess was procured whom habit soon enabled to undergo the
experiment without danger; the raving expressions which the
priests probably instructed her to utter, and which they interpreted as they thought fit, were received by the people as oracles;
and her visible convulsions gave ample testimony to their being
the effect of inspiration.  A hollow 6ak in the forest of Dodona,
in which it was possible for a man to conceal himself while the
aperture was artfully closed up, was likewise famous for its oracles,
and the imposture was no doubt equally beneficial to its priests




CH. VtH.]             THE GREEKS —GAMES.                      65
and attendants.  These. were commonlv men of some art, vwho
had ingenuityenough to frane equivacal answers to the questions
that were put to them; and if the inquirer gave such construction
to the response as was most agreeable to himself, it was generally
possible fbr the priests to construe it according to the event.
Strange! that men should ever believe that if the Deity shlould
stoop to hold intercourse with his creatures, he would use the
mean tricks and subterfuges of a juggler.
Yet these oracles. of the Greeks were for many ages in high
reputation, and had extensive political consequence.  One of the
causes which have been assigned for the high reputation of the
Amphictyonic Council, and the removal of its seat from  Therlhopyle to Delphi, was the interest which the northern states of
Greece had in maintaining the veneration for the Delphian oracle,
and the preservation of the riches of its temple, with which this
council was particularly entrusted.  A  more remarkable conseqrience was the institution of the public games of the Greeks.
The concolIrse of people to the oracles upon particular occasions
(for it was only at'stated periods that they were accessible)
naturally led to -the celebration of a festival and to public games,
whllich, as a religious motive first occasioned their celebration,
began soron to be considered as a part of religion.
Ttie celebration of public games was of very high antiquity
armong the Greeks.  Homer makes no mention of the Olympian,
or of any other of those which were called the sacred games; but
is very ample in the'account of the games celebrated in honor of
the dead, in his account of the funeral of Patroclus, and describes
minutely the several contests of chariot-races, foot-races, boxing,
wrestling, throwing the.quoit, lauinching the javelin, shooting with
the bow, and fencing with the spear.*  These games seem  to
have borne a considerable resemblance to.the Gothic tournaments.
The prizes were of considerable value-a female captiye, a warhlorse,'golden goblets, spears, &c.  These we shall see in after
times gave place to such rewards as were purely honorary.
The four public, or solemn games of the Greeks, which were
particularly termed te~53 or sacred, were the Olympic, the Pythian,
the Nemnan, and the Isthmian.   The precise eras when those
games were first instituted are extremely uncertain, as well as the
persons to whom  they owed their origin.  With regard to both
these points, Archbishop Potter, in his cdrchceologia Grceca, has
collected all the different'opinions.  The Olympic games, which
wvere celebrated at Olympia in the territory of Ellis,,were held
every four years, or rather every fiftieth month, or the second
rlonth after the completion of four years.  And hence have arisen
the seeming chronological discordances, when events have been
Iliad, 23.
VOL. 1..9




66                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK I
computed both by years and by olympiads; for it has been, cus,
tomary to allow four precise years to an olympiad instead of fifty
months. The Greeks did not begin to compute the time by
olympiads, from the period when those games were first instituted.
They had even subsisted some centuries before they began to
reckon by them; and the first olympiad, according to Usher's
chronology, begins only 776 years before the Christian era, 29
years before the Babylonian era of Nabonassar, and 149 before
the building of Rome.
The amusements of the people in all these public games were
of the same nature, and consisted principally in viewing contests
of skill in all the athletic exercises. The prizes bestowed on the
victors were not rewards of any intrinsic value, as those given at
the ancient funeral games; they were originally of the most simple
nature. A crown of wild olive or of parsley was accounted the'
highest reward in the times of virtuous simplicity, when glory was
a sufficient incitement to excellence without the sordid allurements
of interest; and so powerful is habit in its influence on the mind,
that even in the latter ages of Greece, when luxury had introduced
corruption of every kind, the victors in those games had no other
reward than a garland of leaves. In a political view, these public
games were, during the first ages of their institution, of the most
important consequence.  Independently of their effect in promoting
in the youth a hardy and vigorous conformation of body,' and that
activity and address in martial exercises and in single combat,
which, according to the ancient system of war, were of the utmost
importance, a most beneficial consequence of those public games
was the frequent assembling together of the inhabitants of all the
states of Greece, and thus promoting a national union; to which
the difference of their governments, and their separate interests,
were otherwise opposing a constant resistance.  Assembled on
these public occasions from motives of pleasure and amusement, to
which was joined the notion of performing a duty of religion, and
indulging in every species of festivity, they could not avoid considering each other as brethren and fellow citizens.  Whatever were
the political interferences of the several states, or their national
animosities, every grudge of this kind was at least for the time
obliterated.  Thucydides informs us that all hostile operations
between states actually at war were suspended during the performance of those solemnities. Another consequence of those
meetings was the dissemination of knowledge, arts, science, and
literature;*for it must be observed, that although the chief contests
in the sacred games were those in the martial and athletic exercises, there were likewise trials of skill in poetry, history, and
music; and it is chiefly to these latter exercises of genius that we
must attribute the eminence of the Greeks in those sciences above
all the nations of antiquity.




CH  VIo].]                  THE aREEKs                           67
CHAPTER VIII.
Early period of the Greek history continued-Earliest state of agriculture in
Greece-Erectheus institutes the Eleusinian Mysteries-Obtains the sove
reignty of' Attica-Theseus unites the cities of Attica-This the age of the
marvellous-End of that period-Expedition of the Argonauts-Course of
their voyage-The solstitial and equinoctial points fixed by Chiron-This
the foundation of Sir Isaac Newton's chronology —Twofold proof on which
it rests-Progress of maritime affairs in Greece-State of the military artWar of Thebes-War of the Epigonoi-War of Troy-Ancient system of
warfare-The tactic or arrangement of their troops-Subsistence of the
armies-Arrms-The war of the Heraclide-Change of government in
Greece-Commencement of the democracy of Athens-Origin of the Greek
colonies-Causes of their rapid advancement.
FROM the period of the arrival of the first of those Eastern colonies which formed establishments in Greece; down to the era of
the war of Troy, is an interval of above 300 years, in which the
Greeks were gradually shaking off their original barbarism, and
advancing in civilization  and the knowledge of the arts of life.
This whole space of time, however, is accounted the fabulous
period of the Grecian history.  Not that it contains no facts of
which the authenticity can be relied on, but that it abounds with
many, which, with a basis of truth, have served as the foundation
for an immense superstructure of fable.  Part of the history of
this period I have given in the preceding chapter, in which I have
shortly traced the progress of the Greeks from their most barbarous state down to the introduction of letters into Greece by Cadmus.  I shall now throw together such facts as are tolerably well
authenticated, and may be relied on as the great outlines of the
history of what remains of that doubtful period down to the Trojan war.  From  that era, when it is. generally allowed that fiction
ceases to mix itself with authentic history, we shall proceed with
a greater degree of light, and find the objects of our study gradually rising upon us in point of importance.
Greece, which is not naturally a fertile country, nourishing only
a few inhabitants, and these seeking their sustenance, like other
savages, from  the woods and mountains, did not begin to practise
agriculture till about 150 years after the time of Cecrops.  At
this time Erectheus, either a Greek who had sailed to Egypt, or
the leader of a new colony of Egyptians, is said to have introduced
agriculture into Attica, and to have relieved that country, then
suffering from l  famine, by the importation of a large quantity of
Egyptian grain. The only produce of the native soil at this time




68                       UNIVERSAL HISTORYo.               [o0K 
was the olive, which served as a very nourishing food, but of which
the various uses were then so little known that it has been doubted
if, even in the days of Homer, the Greeks used oil for tile purs
pose of giving light.  It is certain  that this great poet, who is
abundantly minute in describing every circumstance of domestic
life, never mentions oil as applied to that purpose.*
Erectheus, called by the latter Greeks Ericthonius, is said to
have cultivated the plains of Eleusis, then a barren waste, and to
have instituted, in honor of Ceres, the Eleusinian Mysteries, in
imitation of the Egyptian games of Isis.  Ceres is feigned to have
come herself into Greece at this period; and the poets have recorded many prodigies of her performance.  As to the precise
nature of those Eleusinian  mysteries, the moderns can only form
conjectures; since, even among the ancients, they were kept an
inviolable secret from all but those who were initiated.  They certainly were of a religious and even of a moral nature; since we
find the wisest among the ancients expressing themselves with
regard to them in strains of the highest encomium.  Cicero, speaking of them, says, (De Leg. 1. 2.) " Among many other advantages which we have derived from Athens, this is the greatest; for
it has improved a rude and barbarous people, instructed us in the
art of civilized life, and has not only taught us to live cheerfillly,
but to die in peace in the hope of a more happy futurity."   For
a very learned conjectural explanation of those mysteries, we refer
the  reader to  Bishop  Warburton's Divine Legation of.Moses;
and many curious particulars regarding the actual ceremonies performed in those sacred solemnities are enumerated by Mr. Cumberland in  his Observer, a work which contains a great deal of
valuable research on various topics of the antiquities and literature
of the Greeks.t' Their apartments were lighted only by fires,'and in the palaces of princes
odoriferous wood was employed for that purpose.-Odyss. v. 59; Ibid. vi. 306.
They likewise used torches of pine and resinous woods.-Odyss. xviii. 309.
t According to Mr. Cumberland, the Eleusinian mysteries were celebrated
in the time of autumn, every fifth year, at Eleusis, where a great concourse of
people met on the occasion. The ceremonies of initiation were preceded by
sacrifices, prayers, and ablutions. The candidates were exercised'in trials of
secrecy, and prepared by vows of continence  every circumstance was contrived to render the act as awful and striking as possible; the initiation was
performed at midnight, and the candidate was taken into an interior sacristy of
the temple, with a myrtle garland on his head; here he was examined, if lie
had duly performed his stated ablutions; clean hands, a pure heart, and.a
native proficiency in the Greek tongue, were indispensable requisites. Ilaving
passed this examination, he was admitted into the temple, which was an edifice
of immense magnitude: after proclamation made that the strictest silence
should be observed, the officiating priest took out the sacred volumes containing the mysteries; these books were written in a strange character, interspersed
with figures of animals, and various emblems and hieroglyphics; they were preserved in a cavity between two large blocks of stone, closely fitted to each
other, and they were carefully replaced by the priest with much solemnity,
lfter he had explained what was necessary to the initiated out of them   The




cHe. viIi.]       THE GREEKS-F-ABULOUS PERIOD.                       69
The seveices of Erectheus were rewarded by his obtaining the
sovereignty of Attica, which, from  that time, began to advance in
civilization; and in the succeeding age, during the reign of Theseus,
the Greeks in general began to display an active and ambitious
spirit, which signalized itself in some very  extraordinary enterprises.  Such were the expedition of the Argonauts under Jason;
the war of Thebes, in which seven kings combined against Eteocles, its sovereign; and the war of Troy, which engaged all the
states and princes of Greece.
Attica, before the time of Theseus, though under one sovereign,
was divided into twelve detached states or cities, each governed by
its own magistrates and laws.  This prince laid the foundation of
the grandeur of Attica, by uniting these twelve states, combining
their interests, and throwing them  into one people.  The separate
magistracies were abolished, and the whole agreed to be go. erned
by the same code of laws, in the framing of which the principal
nmen of each stat4e had an equal suffrage.   Erectheus had divided
the citizens into four classes: Theseus raduced them to three-the
nobles, 4thelaborers, and the artisans.  As the two last were the
most numerouls and the most powerful, he balanced that inequality,
by conferring on the first the sole regulation of all that'regarded
religion, the administration  of justice, and public  policy.   But
htiere were in this institution the seeds of fulture discord and faction;
for it was in the power.of an ambitious noble, by ingratiating hinmself with the inferior orders, to obtain such an ascendency as to
regulate every thing by his will; and, in fact, the constitution of
Attica was at this time perpetually fluctuating, and the people for
ever embroiled in civil commotions.
initiated were enjoined to honor their parents, to reverence the immortal gods,
and abstain from particular sorts of diet, particularly tame fbwls, fish, beans, and
certain sorts of apples.
When this was finished, the priests began to play off the whole machinery of
the temple, in all its terror; doleful groans and lamentations broke from the fane;
thick and sudden darkness involved the temple, momentary gleams of light flashEd forth every now and then, with tremblings as if an earthquake had shaken the
edifice; sometimes these coruscations continued long enough to discover all the
splendor of the shrines and images, accompanied with voices in concert, dancings,
and music; at dther times, during the darkness, severities were exercised upon
the initiated by persons unseen; they were dragged to the ground by the hair of
their heads, and beaten and lashed with stripes, without knowing from whom the
blows proceeded, or why they were inflicted: lightnings, and thunderingrs, and
dreadful apparitions were occasionally played off, with every invention to terrify
and astonish; at length, upon a voice crying out some barbarous. unintelligible
words, ihe ceremony was concluded, and the initiated dismissed. The garment
which he wore upon this occasion was not to be laid aside while it would hang
together, and the shreds were then to be dedicated at some shrine, as a tattered
trophy of the due performance of the mysteries of Ceres. These mysteries were
held in such general respect, that it afforded great cause of reproach against
Socrates for having neglected his initiation. The vows of secrecy, and the penalties to be inflicted on their violation, were as binding as could possibly be devised'."-Cumberland's Observer, Vol. v. No. 115.




70                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 [BOOK 1'.
It is prilcipally on the age of Theseus, that the Greeks have
indulged their vein for the marvellous. Every thing is supernatural,
and every great man is either a god or a demi-god.  The most
probable source of this I conceive to be, that the princes, who had
then become really powerful, and exercised a high control over
their subjects, taking advantage of the superstitious character of tile
times, and of the people's credulity, assumed to themselves a divine
origin, in order the better to support their new authority.  Having
at all times the priests under their influence, they could do this
with great facility, by instituting religious rites in honor of their
divine progenitors; and if they could thus prevail so lar as to pass
with their contemporaries for the offspring of the gods, it is no
wonder that the succeeding ages should retain the same idea of
them, and decorate their lives and exploits with a thousand circumstances of fabulous embellishment.
But the taking of Troy is the era when the marvellous part of
the Grecian history ceases all at once.  The reason appears to be
this: — the absence of the kings and chiefs at this tedious siege
involved the several states in great disorders.  Many of these princes were slain, or perished by shipwreck; others were assassinated
or deposed. The few who survived found every thing in misery
and confusion, the country ravaged, the people pillaged and oppressed.  In thlis state of things, the mind, awake only to real
calamities and  sufferings, is little disposed  to  indulge itself in
romantic and poetic fictions. The games, which cherished that
spirit, were for many years interrupted, and when again renewed,
the more enlightened character of the Greeks, and the decline of
that superstitious turn of mind which disposes to the love of the
marvellous, had drawn a distinct line of separation between fiction
and authentic history.
But even in the latter part of the fabulous period, there are
some events of which the great outlines are sufficiently authentic,.
and which, as strongly characteristic of the genius, spirit, and
manners of the times, are too important to be passed over without
some reflections.  The expedition of the Argonauts, the sieges of
Thebes and of Troy, are very singular enterprises in so rude a
period of society.
The Greeks, among other arts which they learned from  the
Phoenicians, were indebted to them for that of navigation; and
they had not been long in possession of this art before they put
it in practice in a very bold experimrnent.   The voyage of the
Argonauts to Colchis was undertaken 1280 years before the Christian era, according to Usher's Chronology, and 937 according to
that of Sir Isaac Newton; and, when all its circumstances are con.
sidered, was certainly a very remarkable enterprise.  What was
the real purpose of the voyage, is extremely difficult to be deter.
mined.  The poets have feigned a variety of fabulous circumstances, both of the enterprise and of its object; but among the sert




CH.. vxin.]           THE ARGONAUTS.                       71
ous opinions of the best informed writers, the most probable seems
to be that of Eustathius, who conjectures this voyage to have
been both a military and a mercantile expedition.  The object, in
his opinion, was to open to the Greeks the commerce of the Euxine Sea, and to secure some establishments upon its Asiatic coasts.
For these purposes a fleet and troops were necessary. The
armament consisted of many ships, of which.rgo, the largest,
was 50 cubits, or 75 feet, in length; about the size of a modern
vessel of 200 tons burden.  A number of heroes from every quarter of Greece joined in the expedition-the fathers of those brave
warriors who afterwards distinguished themselves at the siege of
I'roy.
The Argonauts, under the command of Jason, set sail from the
coast of Thessaly.  Their expedition was lengthened by unfavora-,
ble weather, unskilful seamen, and the consequent necessity of keepin,; as near as possible to the coasts.  The variety of adventures
wlich they met with in touching at many different islands and
ports in the course of their voyage, have furnished ample matter
of poetical fiction, resting on a slender basis of truth.  Apollonius
RlEodius, in Greek, and Valerius Flaccus, in Latin heroics, have
suag the exploits of the Argonauts with no mean powers of poetry.  The outlines of their expedition  may be very shortly
detailed. From the isle of Lemnos, where they made some stay,
lthy proceeded to Samothrace.  Thence sailing round the Chersoaesus, they entered the Hellespont; and keeping along the
coast of Asia, touched at Cyzicus, and spent some time on the
coast of Bitllynia; thence they entered the Thracian Bosphorus,
and proceeding onward through the Euxine, at length discovered
Caucasus at its eastern extremity.  This mountain was their landni.*rk, which directed them to the port of Phasis near to Oea,
then the chief city of Colchis, which was the ultimate object of
their voyage.  Following the Argonauts through this tract of sea,
and coasting it as they must have done, it appears evident that
they performed a voyage of at least 440 leagues.  Those who
consider not the times and the circumstances in which the Greeks
accomplished this navigation, have not perceived the boldness of
the, enterprise.  These daring Greeks had been but recently taught
the art of sailing, by the example of foreigners; it was their first
attempt to put it in practice.  They were utterly ignorant of
navigation as a science; and they went to explore an extent of
sea that was altogether unknown to them.' Let us do those
heroes justice, and freely acknowledge that the voyage of the
Argonauts was a noble enterprise for the times in which it was
executed.
Preparatory to this remarkable voyage, the Argonaut3 were
furnished with instructions by Chiron the astronomer, who framed




72                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK I
for their use a scheme of the constellations, giving a determined
place to the solstitial and equinoctial points;- the former in thle
15th degrees of Cancer and Capricorn, and the latter in the 15th
degrees of Aries and Libra.   This recorded fact' has served as
the basis of an emendation of the ancient chronology by Sir Isaac
Newton, of which I shall here give a short account.
Sir Isaac Newton's amended chronology is built upon two separate species of proofs: first, on an estimate of the medium  length
of the generations of men, or of the lives of thle kings taken in suce
cession, which former chronologists had enlarged very much bee
yond the truth; secondly, on a calculation instituted from  the
regular procession of the equinoxes.  As to the first mode of
proof, it may be observed, that w-hen we are accurately informed
fronl history that a certain number of generations intervened, or a
certain number of sovereigns reigned, between any two events,
we are enabled to ascertain pretty nearly the length of that interval, provided we can fix upon a reasonable number of yealrs as the
medium  length of the generations of man, or the reigns of a succession of princes: a medium or average which is to be formed
from a comparison of the successions of the sovereigns in the
authenticated periods of modern and ancient history.
Between the, return of the Heraclidae into Peloponnesus and
ftle battle of Thermopyle, the date of which last event is well
ascertained, though the former is not, there reigned a succession
of seventeen kings in one branch of the sovereignty of Laceda,inon, and the same number in the other.  Now, by comparing
together a variety of authenticated successions of sovereigns in
ancient and modern times, it is found that the medium duration of
each reign is from  eighteen to twenty years., The seventeen
princes, therefore, who filled the interval above-mentioned, must,
at the rate of twenty years for each sovereign, have reigned 340
years.   These, computed backwards from  the sixth year of
Xerxes, and allowing one or two years more for the war of the
1-Heraclidae, and the reign of Aristodemus, the father of Eurysthenes
anld Proclus, will place tile return of the Heraclidae into Pelopon
nesus 159 years after the death of Solomon, and forty-six before
the first Olympiad, in which Chorabus was victor.  Instead of
this moderate estimate, which is founded on rational data, the
ancient chronologists, and their followers among the moderns, have
assigned a space of thirty-five or forty years to each sovereign,
which is double the true average calculation, and have thus placed
the return of the Heraclidae 280 years farther back than its true
date.
Mr. Hooke, in his Roman History, has, upon these data, cor* See, however, the reasons for questioning the authenticity of this fact in
Goguet, t. ii. b. 3. sect. 2.




CIl. VIlI.]          NEWTON S CHRONOLOGY.                     73
rected the chronology of the Roman history under the kings; and
has shown that the assignment of nineteen or twenty years to
each of the seven kings, is more consistent with the series of
events recorded in that period, than the ordinary computation
given by historians, which supposes each of those princes to have
reigned at a medium thirty-five years.  If, by the same moderate
estirnate,.the succession of the kings who reigned at Alba be
compared with that of the kings at Rome, this computation will
fix tile coming of YEneas into Italy, and the era of the siege of
Troy, exactly at the period to which the estimate of generations
in the Greek annals would assign those events.
The second mode of proof on which Sir Isaac Newton hias
built his emendation of the ancient chronology, and which gives
great additional strength to the fornier, is that which is founded
on the regular procession of the equinoxes.  This procession is
known, by a series of the most accurate observations, to be at the
rate of one degree in seventy-two years; that is, the sun crosses
the ecliptic so much more to the west every succeeding year, that
at the end of seventy-two years his progress westward amounts to
one degree; by which means it happens, that the places of the
equinox are continually receding from  the constellations in the
middle of which they were originally found at the time of the
earliest observations.  Whenever, therefore, the situation of the
equinoctial or solstitial points, or any appearance depending on
them, is mentioned, it is easy to ascertain the time of any event
with which such an appearance was connected: for we have only
to observe how  many degrees the equinoctial points were then
distant from their predent position, and to allow seventy-two years
for each degree.  If we can depend upon the historical fact that
the astronoiner Chiron found that the two colures cut the ecliptic
exactly in the cardinal points, at the time of the Argonautic expedition, it was a fair inference of Sir Isaac Newton, when he found,;n the year 1689, that these colures cut the ecliptic at the distance of 1P 6~ 29' fiomn their original position, and were then
fountl to intersect it in 8 6~ 29', S2 6~ 29', and r  6~ 29, 9   6~
29, this advancement or procession being known to go on at the
rate of a degree in seventy-two years, the length of the intervening space must therefore have been exactly 2627 years; which
fixes the Argonautic expedition to 928 B. c.
After this first successful experiment, we shall find the Greeks
turn their attention more particularly to maritime affairs; and we
may judge of their progress by the fleet which was assembled
thirty-five years after the Argonautic expedition, for transporting
the troops to the siege of Troy.  Yet still it was not till the war
with the Persians that the Greek marine became an object of seriotis importance.  The naval victory of Salamis showed to what a
height it had then attained.  At this battle, the united fleet of
VOL. 1..                  10




74                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                rBOOK. I
Athens and Sparta amounted to 380 sail; that of the Persians to
no  less than  1200. \The size of these ships is not certainly
known; * but there is one circumstance friomn  which a conjecture
may be formed. the port of Pi ceus, at Athens, was, according to
the account of ancient write s, particularly Strabo, capable of containing  400  ships; but this harbor, in the opinion of Wheeler
and other modern writers, could not easily contain above fifty of
our middle-sized trading vessels.ft
Tlhe state of the military art at, the same period forms a pretty
curious object of inquiry.  The war of Thebes, and that of Troy,
are remarkable events in the age of which we now treat, and are,
therefore, proper criteria by which we may form  a judgment of
the state of that art at this time in Greece.  The first wars mentioned  in Grecian  history deserve no particular attention: they
were probably little else than predatory excursions of'barbarous
tribes, to ravage the lands and carry off the flocks of their neighbors.  The country, in those times, was open and defenceless;
the towns a collection of rude huts, incapable of resisting assault,
and unsecured by any regular enclosure or fortification.  At the
time of the siege of Thebes, the state of the'country was extremely different; as we may judge from  the preparations of the
Argives, their dispositions to besiege the city, and the duration of
the war.
(Edipus had two sons, Eteocles and Polynices, to whom jointly
he bequeathed the sovereignty of Thebes.  Instead of dividing
the kingdom, they agreed to govern it year after year alternately.
Eteocles, at the expiration of his term, refusing to resign, Polynices solicited the aid of Adrastus, king of ArguLs, who espoused his
cause, engaged several of the princes of Greece to assist him, and
marched  against the Thebans with a powerful army.  They
retreated before the enemy, and betook themselves to their city,
which Adrastus immediately took measures for assailing.  This is
the first siege mentioned in the Grecian history, whence we may
suppose that the arts of attack, and the contrivances for defence,
would be equally rude and unskilful.  The only object of the
besiegers was to  blockade the city, to prevent the inhabitants
from making sallies, and cutting off all succors from  the surrounding country.  For this purpose, as they knew not the art of drawing lines of circumvallation, they formed a large camp'at a small
distance from  the city, as a security for the baggage and provisions
of the army, and a retreat so fortified that they could defend themselves in it, in case of a repulse and attack on the part of the beThe ships of the Greeks, at the time of the war of Troy, had no keel, and
only one mast, which was lowered upon the deck when the ship was in port.
Goguet, vol. ii. b. 4, c. iv.
t The largest ships mentioned by Homer are those of the Baeotians, %hiica
carried 120 nien.-11. 1. 2.




CIu. VIII.]            WAR OF THEBES.                       75
sieged. They then divided their army into different bodies, each
of which had the charge of assaulting a particular gate or entry to
the city.  It does not appear that they ever attempted an escalade, or endeavored to effect a breach in the walls; but contented themselves with directing their efforts against the gates alone.
These they endeavored to force, but were as often beat back by
a sally from the besieged, and forced to retreat to their camp,
where they sustain a siege in their turn.  In this way, it is not
surprising that the siege of a large city was protracted for years.
Thebes, after a long siege, gave no hopes of surrender; both parties became tired of the war, and it was at length agreed to terminate it by a single combat between the rival brothers, Eteocles and
Polynices; an issue for the quarrels of sovereign princes, which
the humane reader of history will often find reason to wish had
been more frequently resorted to.  The brothers. fought under the
walls of Thebes, and were both killed.
I cannot avoid here observing, that the ancients appear to have
entertained, on some points, imotions of morality, which to our
apprehension seem  very extraordinary.  The conduct of Eteocles
in defrauding his brother of his alternate right of sovereignty, admits, according to our notions of justice, of no apology.  It was
perfidious in the highest degree.  Yet the Greek poets who have
treated of this story, AEsclbylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, all agree
in condemning Polynices, whom they judge unworthy of the
honors of sopulture, for having troubled the repose of his country by a war.  Similar to'this is the judgment of the salne poets
upon the character of (Edipus, who is held forth as an object of
the just vengeance of the gods, and condemned for his crimnes to
Tartarus, because he ignorantly slew  his father in a justifiable
quarrel, and innocently married his mother, whom he knew not.
Such, likewise, is their opinion of the criminality of Orestes, who
was with difficulty acquitted by the Areopagus, and is feigned to
be incessantly tormented by the Furies, for having revenged on
his mother Clytemnestra and her adulterous gallant 2Egisthus, the
murder of his father Agamemnon.  It is no apology to say, as
some critics have done, that the poets chose those subjects where
an innocent person is represented as the victim of heavenly vengeance, because they gave greater exercise to the emotions of
terror and pity. The poets, in reality, did not allow the innocence
of those persons; on the contrary, they plainly condemn them as
guilty, and justify their punishment.
The death of Eteocles and Polynices did not terminate the
Theban war.  It was renewed by Creon, their uncle, who, after
a successful battle, having refused Adrastus leave to bury the
dead, that prince implored the aid of the Athenians, then governed
by Theseus, who, to avenge the cause of humanity, joined his
forces to those of the Argives, and compelled Creon to enter into
terms of peace.  Some years after, the war broke out anew on




76                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY,                [BOOK, io
the part of the Argives.  The sons of those commanders who
had fallen during the siege of Thebes determined to revenge the
deaths of their fathers.  This was termed the war of the Epigonoi,
that is, the descendants or sons of the former.  They were joined
by the Messenians and Arcadians, Corinthians and Megareans.
The particulars of this war it is needless to trace; it was of long
duration.  The Thebans lost a decisive battle on the banks of the
river G'issas: they retreated into Thebes; the city was attacked,
taken by storm, and entirely destroyed by the conquerors.  Pausanias mentions an epic poem  on the subject of this war, wlhich
some writers have ascribed to Homer.  I I own," says Pausanias,
" that, next to the Iliad and Odyssey, I have not seen a finer
work." Unfortunately, it has not reached our days.
The detail of the war of Troy rests chiefly -on the authority of
Horner; whose work, though embellished with fiction, must not
in its great outlines be refused the credit of a real history.  The
poet, it is true, lived, as is generally supposed, at some distance of
time from the events which he relates; 168 years by the account
of tHerodotus; between two and three centuries in the opinion of
other writers; but by the computation of Sir Isaac Newton, his
birth is placed. only 28 years after the taking of Troy.   But
allowing him to have lived at a considerable interval of time fromn
tthe events which he relates, it is agreed among the ancient writers
that lie followed the relations of other authors, whose works, though
now lost, were known to the ancients, and esteemed of sufficient
authority.  Several of the principal events of the Tr'ojan war are
likewise authenticated by the Arundelian marbles.  The Chlronicle of Paros fixes both the commencement of the siege and its
termination; the former in the 13th year of Menestheus, king of
Athens, and the latter in the 22d year of the salne prince.  The
latter date corresponds to the year 1184 B. c., according to Ushiei',
Chrlonology, and 904 B. c. according to Sir Isaac Newton's.
The immediate cause of the war is generally allowed to have
been the rape of Helen, the wife of Menelaus, by Paris, the son
of Priam, king of Troy; although prior to that motive an animnosit) had subsisted between the Greeks and -Trojans for many generations.  It is-not otherwise probable, that a quarrel which inter.
ested- only Menelaus and his brother Agamemnon, should have
been readily espoused by all the princes of Greece.  The preparao
tions for this war are said to have occupied no less than ten years;
a length of time which ought not to surprise us, when we consider
that this was the first war in which the whole nation had engaged.
We may therefore look upon this enterprise as a proper test to
judge of the state of the military art at this period  in Greece.
The time of preparation was employed in uniting the forces of
the different princes, and in equipping a fleet to transport them.Ito Asia.  The troops, when assembled, amounted, according to
the estimate of Thucydides, to about 100,000 men.  In a general




cOI. VIII]               TROJAN WAR.                        77
assembly of the States held at Argos, or AMycenat, the chief com.
mand was conferred on Agamemnon, king of MycenT, Sicyon,
and Corinth; and all the princes of Greece engaged by oath to
range themselves under his banners, and to furnish their contingent
of'men and ships.  The preparations on the part of the Trojans
were equally formidable.  Priam, whose territories were consid(
erable. extending from the isle of Tenedos to Upper Phrygia, had
raised all his power, and strengthened himself by the alliance of
many of the plrinces of the lesser Asia.
rThe Greeks embarked at Aulis, opposite to Eubma, and landled
in Asia, at the promontory of Sigoeum.  Their first operation,
after beating back the enemy who opposed their landing, was to
form a large camp at some distance from  the city.  The site of
Troy is generally supposed to have been at the distance of four
or five miles from  the shore, at the foot of that ridge of i lomntains which goes under the name of Ida.  The camp was close
upon the sea-shore for the sake of the ships, which, as usual, were
drawn upon the land, and enclosed within the ramparts of the
camp; one line fronting the city and the other the sea; while
the tents ot the troops filled the intermediate space.  Each petty
nation or tribe of the Greeks had its separate quarter of the camp;
which was fortified externally by a high mound of earth, flanked
with woodeni towers.. These strong intrenchments were necessary
to secure the invading army from the attacks of the enemy, who
acted as often as they could upon the offensive, and frequently
assaulted the camp.  The fortifications of Troy consisted, in like
manner, as is generally believed, of nothing more than a sloping
wall of earth, flanked with wooden towers.  The Greeks attempted to draw no lines of circutnvallation, nor were any of those
engines of war employed which came afterwards into use in
regular sieges.  The chief object of the Greeks dir'ng the first
nine years of the war was'to ravage and plunder the country —
thus cutting off the sources of supply-and attacking the Trojans
whenever they made a sally for the purpose of foraging, or
attempted to force the enemy's camp.  The detail of the chief
events of this war is to be found in Homer, with a copious embellishment of fiction.  The spirit of the Trojans forsook them upon
the death of Hector.' The city was taken soon after, either by
storm or' by surprise; and being set on fire during the night, was
burnt' to the around, not a vestige of its ruins existing at the present day.  The miserable Trojans perished either in the flames o0
by the sword of the Greeks, and their empire and name were
extinguished for ever.  About 80 years after the burning of Troy, a
Grecian colony settled near to its site, and the rest of the kingdom
formed part of'the territory of the Lydians.
Nothing can show more clearly the rudeness of the military art,
at this remote period of time, than the instances of those two
remarkable sieges of Thebes ind of Troy.  An open war was no,




78                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK L.
thing else than a series of plundering expeditions.  When a city
was to be attacked, the country around it was ravaged, and the
inhabitants reduced, if possible, to the necessity of a surrender
from  the want of provisions.  If its resources were considerable,
while the state of the country at the same time denied supplies to
the besiegers, the enterprise must have been abandoned, unless it
succeeded by a stratagem, or the city was betrayed by some of its
inhabitants. If at length it was won, it was never attempted to
preserve the conquest by a garrison' the advantage gained was
usually secured by burning the city to the ground.  As these
military expeditions, seldom undertaken at a great distance from
home, were commonly made during the spring and summer only,
the troops during the winter remained at home inactive, and were
usually disbanded.  In a long-continued war at a distance, as that
of Troy, the winter season was spent in the camp, and there was
a-complete cessation of hostilities.  Dictys of Crete informs us,
that the Greeks during the winter exercised themselves in a variety
of games, which tended to relieve the anxiety of the troops, and
keep up the martial spirit.  The game of chess is said to have
been invented by Palamedes during this tedious siege.
With respect to the arrangement of the troops in order of battle,
and the various military manceuvres then in use among the G reeks,
our ideas are extremely imperfect.  Homer frequently mentions
an order of battle under the term  phalanx, but he gives us no
description of it.  We see, indeed, in one place, that Nestor places
the cavalry or the chariots in front,* the infantry in the rear, and
the weakest of the troops in the centre.  In another place, we
find the infantry in front, and the cavalry in the rear: this shows
that they adopted a variety of arrangement according to circumstances.  It is quite impossible, from Homer's description, to have
any distinct idea of the manceuvres of the troops during an engagenment.  He gives us no plan of attack: we know not whether the
armies charged in one body or in'separate divisions. We see no
evolutions, no rational movements of the troops during the action,
nor any manceuvre which shows conduct or skill on the part of the
general.  The chiefs or captains of the different bodies seem  to
have fought equally with the private soldiers, and to be interested
only who should kill most men.  Homer's descriptions are all of
single combats, man to man; long discourses and taunting reproaches between the heroes, ending in a desperate duel, without
any regard to the situation of the main army.  It appears firom
HIomer's accounts that the Greeks, in rushing on to engagement,
* When cavalry or horse are mentioned, we are not to understand that in
those armies there were regular bodies of horsemen. The horses were employ.
ed only in the drawing of cars or chariots, each usually containing two milen,
of whom one managed the horses and the other fought.-Goguet, t. ii. b. v.
e iii.




Q.H, VIII.j               THE HERACLIDA.                     79
preserved a deep silence, while the Trojans, like most other barbarous nations, uttered hideous shouts at the moment of attack.
How those armies were subsisted it is not easy to say.  It is
certain that in those times the troops had no regular pay: they
served at their own charges alone. The levies were made by a
general law obliging each family to furnish a soldier, under a certain penalty. The only recompense for the service of individuals
was their rated share of the booty; for none were allowed to
plunder for themselves: every thing was brought into a common
stock, and the division was made by the chiefs, who had a larger
proportion for their share.
The arms of the troops were of different kinds. Their offensive
weapons were the sword slung from  the shoulder, the bow and
arrows, the javelin, or short missile spear, the club, the hatchet,
and the sling. Their weapons of defence were an enormous
shield which defended almost the whole body, made of thin metal,
and covered with the hide of some animal; an helmet of brass or
copper; and a cuirass and buskins, with coverings for the thighs,
of the same metal.  It is proper to observe that iron, thotugh
known before this period, was a rare metal, and accounted of high
value.  Achilles proposed a ball of iron as one of the prizes in
the funeral-games which he celebrated in honor of Patroclus.*  It
was not used in the fabrication of weapons of war.  These were
formed of copper hardened by an admixture of tin; and even in
much later periods the Roman swords were of the same compound
metal.
On this subject, the state of the military art at this period among
the Greeks, the President Goguet has, in vol. ii., book v., ch. iii.,
of his Origin of Laws, &c., collected a great mass of curious information, to which I beg leave to refer my readers.  From  all
that can be gathered on the subject it appears that this art was
yet extremely rude.  But practice, which matures all arts, very
soon reduced this into a system; and the Greeks, in a very early
period of their history, seem to have become greater proficients in
war than any of the civilized nations.
About 80 years after the taking of Troy, began the war of the
HIeraclidae. Perseus, the founder of Mycena, left the crown to
his son Electryon.  Amphitryon, the grandson of Perseus, by
Alceus, married Alcmena, the daughter of Electryon, and thus
founded a double title of succession to that sovereignty; but!:aving involuntarily killed his father-in-law, he was obliged to fly his
country, while the sceptre was seized by his uncle Stleneltls, the
brother of Electryon.  By this act of usurpation, Hercules, the
son of Amphitryon and Alemena, was excluded from tie thlrone
of Mycente.  Eurystheus, the son and successor of ShlenellIs,
"Iliad, 1. 23.




80                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK I
endeavored to destroy Hercules, by exposing him to numberless
perilous enterprises; and continuing afterwards his persecution
against his children, made war against the Athenians, who protected themn; but he was defeated and slain.  This event opened
the Peloponnesus to the Heraclidze, or descendants of Hercules,
who were in the train of subduing the country when they were
influenced by the weakest superstition.  They retreated upon the
response oft' an oracle, which declared that their absence was the
only means of relieving Greece from  the ravages of a "pestilence.
Thyllus, the son of Hercules, deceived by some ambiguous expressions of the oracle, returned after three years, and was killed
in a single combat, by which he chose to decide the fate of the
contending parties.  It was on his death agreed that the Heraclidie should not for 50, or, as others say, 100 years, return to
Peloponnesus.
That term  being expired, Cresphontes and Aristodemus, the
descendants of Hercules, by Hyllus, returned, and found Tesamenes, the son of Orestes, possessed of the kingdoms of Argos.
Mycente, and Lacedremon.  They overcame this prince, and took
possession of his states; Cresphontes seizing Mycenae, Temenes
Argos, and the two sons of Aristodemus, Eurysthenes and Procles,
dividing Lacedzemon.  The last is an important fact, as shall afterwards be mentioned.
These wars miserably ravaged Greece, and threw it back into
barbarism.  The states became once more detached and weak,the petty chiefs exercising the most despotic control, and following the barbarous policy of maintaining constant war with their
neighbors to make their own office be felt as necessary.  But
matters; were gradually verging to a crisis; and from the insupportable tyranny of those despots, the very name of king (tyrannos)
became at length universally odious.  Thebes was the first of tile
states which declared for a popular government, and others soon
followed her example.  The following event was the immediate
occasion of this revolution:
The Heraclidee, in their war against the Athenians, had been
assured of success by the oracle, provided they did not kill Codrus,
then king of Athens.  In their attack on the Athenian territory,
they determined, if possible, to preserve the life of the sovereign;
but this.generous patriot, who had learned the importance of tile
sacqrifice, resolved to devote himself for his country;-he disguised
hilnself like a peasant, and purposely quarrelling with a soldier of
the hostile army, procured the death he wished.  The Heraclidte,
a second time the dupes of an oracle, retired, not daring to fight
against the Fates.  Medon and Nileus, the sons of Codrus, disputed the succession to the crown; but the Athenians, though
justly venerating the memory of Codrus, and honoring his blood
were weary of monarchy.  They determined to establish a demo
cracy; but from respect to their last prince, they conferred on his




CH. VIII.J             GRIEEK COLONIES.                     81
son, Medon, the office of first magistrate, under'the title of archon,
or the commander.  This is the commencement of the Athenian
Republic, about 1068 B. c.  Of its political structure we shall
afterwards particularly treat.
It was at this time that the Greeks, weak as they were, began
to form distant colonies. Perhaps we ought rather to say, that it
was this very weakness, and the oppression which they suffered at
home, that forced many of them to abandon their country, and to'
seek refuile in other lands. A wandering people who have but
lately becorne stationary, or a nation partly composed of foreigners,
ingrafting  themselves on the ancient inhabitants, have not that
affection for a natal soil which is so strongly felt by an indigenous
people who have for a long period of time peaceably inhabited a
civilized country.  Recently brought under control, and impatient
of oppression from the remembrance of their former freedom, the
least attempt to straighten the chain which confines them, disposes
them immediately to shake it off.  If too weak at once to break
their fetters, they withdraw themselves from their bondage, and
relinquish all connection with a government to which they do not
incline to submit.
Such was the case at this time with many of the Grecian states.
The oppression they suffered from  the tyranny of their de,,:ots,
and the miseries of continual war, either with their neighbors or
between their domestic factions, forced great multitudes in despair
to abandon their country, and to transport themselves to the neighboring continent of Asia, which the Trojan war had laid open to
them.  A large body of the.Eolians from  Peloponnesus landed
in the opposite country and founded twelve cities, of which Smyrna
was the most considerable.  Nileus, the son of Codrus, probably
impatient of submission where he thought he had an equal title to
rule, carried over into Asia a large body of the disaffected Athenians, reinforced by some Ionians from the Peloponnesus; and he,
too, founded twelve cities, of which the most considerable were
Ephesus, Miletus, Colophon, and Clazomene.  This territory, in
compliment to his associates from Peloponnesus, he termed Ionia,
the name of their original country.  War, therefore, and domestic
oppressions, gave rise to many of the Grecian colonies, which
afterwards came to be great and powerful states.  Other colonies,
however, had'a different origin.  In the more advanced and flourishing periods of the mother country, the narrow territory possessed
by each of the states, and the increased population, compelled
them to send off the inhabitants in quest of new settlements.  Thus
the Dorians sent off colonies to. Italy and Sicily, which founded
the cities of Tarentum and Locri in the former; and in the latter,
Syracuse.and.lgrigentum. Colonies afterwards, of the same
people, betook themselves to the islands of' Crete, Rhodes, and
Cos; and others passing into Asia, where many of their countrymen where already established, founded Halicarnassus, Cnidus.
VOL. I.                  11




82                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               LBOOK L.'
and several other cities.  Dr. Adam  Smith, in his CCWealth of
Nations," in treating this subject of the Greek'colonization, has
Justly remarked that with regard to these new  settlements, the
mother city, though she considered the colony as a child at all
times entitled to great favor and assistance, and owing in return
much gratitude and respect, yet viewed it as an emancipated child,
over whom she pretended to claim-no direct authority or jurisdiction.  The colony settled its own form of government, enacted its
own laws, and made peace or war with its neighbors as an independent state, which had no occasion to wait for the' consent or
sanction of the mother city.
Those colonies which Greece sent abroad in her more advanced
periods, from an excessive increase of population, were observed
to make a most rapid progress* and soon become great and flourishing states.  Dr. Smith has accounted for this fact with his usual
sagau-t t; and I make no scruple to adopt his observations.
" The colony of. a civilized nation which takes possession either
of a waste country, or of one so thinly inhabited that the natives
easily give place to the new settlers, advances more rapidly to
wealth and greatness than any other human society.  The colonists
carry out with them a knowledge of agriculture and of other useful
arts, superior to what can grow up of its own accord in the course
of many centuries among savage and barbarous nations.  They
carry out with them, too, the habit of subordination, some notion
of regular government which takes place in their own country, of
the system'of laws which support it, and of a regular administration of justice; and they naturally establish something of the same
kind in the new settlement.  But among savage and barbarous
nations, the natural progress of law and government is still slower
than the natural progress of arts, after law and government have
been so far established as is necessary for their protection.
" The progress of many of the ancient Greek colonies towards:
refinement, wealth, and greatness, seenls accordingly to have been
extremely rapid.  In the course of a century or two, several of
them appear to have rivalled, and even to have surpassed, their
parent states.  Thus Syracuse and Agrigentum in Sicily, Tarentum
and Locri in Italy, Ephesus and Miletus in Asia Minor, appear to
have been at least equal to any of the cities of ancient Greece.
Though posterior in their establishment, yet all the arts of refinement, philosophy, poetry, and elegance, seem  to lhave been cultivated as early, and to have been improved as highly, in them as
in any part of the mother country.  The schools of the two oldest
Greek philosophers, those of Thales and Pythagoras, were established, it is remarkable, not in ancient Greece, but in Miletus and
Crotona, the former an Asiatic, the latter an Italian colony.  All
those colonies had established themselves in countries inhabited by
savage and barbarous nations, who easily gave place to. the new
settlers.  Thus they had as much land as they chose, a benign




Co. vlIi.]              GREEK COLONIES.                       83
climate, and a fertile soil; for these circumstances must have
dedicated the choice of their place of establishment.  They were
independent of their mother country, and at liberty to conduct
themlnselves in any way they should judge most suitable to their
interest."  It was no wonder they should soon become great and
powerful states.
Meantime, the parent country, owed, perhaps, some of its greatest political revolutions to its first colonies.  The Greeks who
remained at home, naturally envious of the happiness and prosperity which they saw their countrymen enjoy in their new establishments, began to aspire at the same freedom  of constitution.
An ardent passion for liberty soon became the ruling passion of
the Greeks.  Thebes and Athens, we have already remarked,
were the first states which threw off the regal government, and
substituted in its place the republican.  Other states soon followed
their example, and either entirely expelled their tyrannical governors, or so circumscribed their authority as to reduce them to
the function of the principal magistrate of a democracy.@
A new road was now open to ambition; for it is the quality of
the republican form of government to generate and keep alive that
passion in all the members of the state: and hence, of all forms of
government, it is necessarily the most turbulent.  But these republics, thus newly formed, could not subsist by the ancient and very
imperfect systems of laws by which they had been formerly governed; for these laws, framed in the spirit of despotism, and owing
their obligation solely to the strong hand which carried them into
execution, fell of necessity along with the power which framed
and enforced them.  The infant republics of Greece demanded,
therefore, new laws; and it was necessary that some enlightened
citizen should arise, who had discernment to perceive what system
of laws was best adapted to the genius and character of his native
state, who had abilities to compile and digest such a system, and
sufficient weight and influence with his countrymen to recommend
and carry it into execution.  Such men were the Spartan Lycurgus and the Athenian Solon.
* The word Tveavneos, in a strict sense, has no reference to the abuse of
power, as in the modern acceptation of the word. It means, properly, the
person invested with the chief authority under any form of government, and
was app!ied originally to the best as well as to the worst of sovereigns.




84                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.o              aO6K I
CHAPTER IX.
THaE REPuBLIC OF LACEDMAMON-Origin - Divided Sovereignty - Brown 
Theory of the Spartan Constitution examined-Reform of Lycurgus-Senate
-Limitation of the Kingly Power-Regulation of Manners-Equal Partition
of Land among all the Citizens —Iron Money-Arts prohibited and confined
to Slaves-Public Tables-Education-Defects of the System of Lycurgus
-Its effects on Manners-Theft authorized-Cruelty-Idleness-Creation of
the Ephori.
THE territory of Lacedaemon, or Laconia, of which Sparta, situated
on the Eurotas, was the chief city, forms the south-east corner of
Peloponnesus; having Argos and Arcadia on the north, Messene
on the west, the.Mare internum, or Mediterranean, on the south,
and the bay of Argos on the XEgean Sea to the east.  The whole
territory, bounded by a natural barrier of mountains, did not exceed fifty miles in its largest diameter, but was extremely populous, containing many considerable towns and excellent sea-ports.
Sparta is said to have been built by a prince of the name of Lacedaemon, who reigned there in the time of Crotonus, king of Argos,
and Amphitryon of Athens, 303 years before the destruction of
Troy, and 711 before the first Olympiad.  At the time of the
siege of Trov, Menelaus was the sovereign of Lacedremon, whose
wife Helen, carried off by Paris, the son of Priam, was the cause
of the war.
Orestes, the son of Agamemnon, and nephew of Menelaus, succeeded to the sovereignty of Lacedaemon in right of his mother
Clytemnestra, the daughter of Tyndarus.  The united kingdoms
of Argos, Mycenm, and Lacedremon were possessed by his son
Tesamenes, who, being expelled and dethroned, as we have seen,
Dy the Heraclide, they made a partition of his states, assigning
Laconia to Eurysthenes and Procles, two sons of Aristodemus.
The brothers did not divide the kingdom, but governed jointly
with equal power, as the Roman consuls; and such continued to
ne the form of the Spartan sovereignty during a succession of
thirty princes of the line of Eurysthenes, and twenty-seven of the
race of Procles. The celebrated Lycurgus was the son of Polydectes, the sixth prince in a direct descent from Procles.  Of the
great political revolution, operated by this eminent legislator, we
shall immediately proceed to give some account, after a previous
examination of a new theory of the Spartan government, which,
though extremely ingenious, rests on no basis of historical evidence.




oil. 1Kx.)                ^9ffIPT.                            85
It is in general a very just opinion that political establishments
and forms of government have owed their origin not so much to
the genius and efforts of any individual lawgiver or politician, as
to a natural progress in the condition of men, and- the state of
society in which they arose: but this observation, in general true,
is not universally so.  It is as fallacious a position to assert that
no political establishment has been the result of the genius of a
single man, as to affirm that all have had that origin.  It is too
much the prevailing passion with speculative politicians to reduce
every thing to general principles.  Man, say they, is every where
the same animal; and will, placed -in similar situations, always
exhibit a similar appearance.  His manners, his habits, his improvements, the government under which he lives, the municipal
laws by which he is regulated, arise naturally from  that situation
in which we find him, and all is the result of a few general laws
of nature which operate equally upon the whole of the human
kind.  I very much fear that this fondness for generalizing has
been prejudicial both to sound philosophy and to historic truth, by
making fact bend to system.  I am  afraid that those who have
flattered themselves with possessing that penetration of intellect
which can develop the simple but hidden laws which regulate
human nature, have forgotten that it is the knowledge of facts
alone that must lead to the diScovery of those laws; and that to
know  for certain whether we possess those necessary facts, we
must have attained a perfect acquaintance with the history'of the
whole species. The philosopher, who antecedently to, this extensive knowledge should, from a partial view of a single nation or
race of men, or even from the best details which history can furnish,
think himself qualified to lay down the laws of the species, may
have the ability to make a very beautiful hypothesis, which, after
all, may be as distant fromn the truth as an Utopian romance.
These reflections have occurred on considering a theory with
regard to the constitution of Sparta, which was first started by an
ingenious writer, Dr. Brown, in his Essay on Civil Liberty; and
as it pleases the imagination by its ingenuity, it has obtained of late
a pretty general currency.  It has been adopted by Mr. Logan
in a small tract entitled "The Philosophy of History," and has
thence been ingrafted into a- larger work, probably written by the
same author, though under a different name.*
The theory to which I allude, proceeding upon this principle,
that all political establishlnents result naturally from  the state of
society in which they arise, gives the following ingenious account
of the origin of the Spartan government, and solution of all those
singular phenomena which it exhibited.
Tire army of the IIeraclidm~, when they came to recover the
* Rutherford's View of Universal History.




86                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK I
dominion of their ancestors, was composed of Dorians from Thes.
saly, the most barbarous of all the Greek tribes.  The Achleans,
the ancient inhabitants of Laconia, were compelled to seek new
habitations, while the barbarians of Thessaly took possession of
their country.  Of all the nations which are the subject of history,
this people, it is said, bore the nearest resemblance to the rude
Americans.  An American tribe, where a chief presides, where
the council of the aged deliberate, and the assembly of the people
give their voice, is on the eve of such a political establishment as
the Spartan constitution.  The Dorians, or T'hessalians, settled in
Lacedaemon, manifested the same manners with all other nations
in a barbarous state.  Lycurgus did no more than arrest them in
that state by forming their usages into laws. He checked them
at once in the first stage of improvement; he put forth a bold
hand to that spring which is in society, and stopped its motion.
It remains now to inquire whether this ingenious theory is consistent with historic truth.  It may be remarked, in the first place,.that the Dorians, thus represented as one of the most barbarous
of the Greek nations, were in no period of history described as
possessing that character.  From the nature of their country, they
were in ancient times a pastoral people, whose chief occupation
was the care of their flocks and herds; and hence the Doric character in poetry and music is synortymous with the pastoral.  But
the Dorians inhabiting the centre of Greece adjoining to Attica,
and in the immediate vicinity of Delphos, were probably aiong
the most early refined of the Grecian tribes. They were animollg
the first who, from  an excessive population, sent forth distant
colonies; and, if we are to judge of the mother state from  her
children, we should estimate their civilization at that period to be
remarkable; since their colonies Syracuse and Agrigentu)m, Tarentum  and Locri, were within a short period of their foundation among the most polished and luxurious of the states of
antiquity.
But in reality we have no sufficient authority for this alleged
fact, that the Dorians, or'any other people, expelled the ancient
inhabitants of Laconia, and took possession of their country.
That the Heraclidae, after a tedious war, at length recovered the
dominions of their ancestors, is a fact uipon which all antiquity is
agreed; but that they used the absurd and unnatural policy of
extirpating their own natural subjects, and planting a race of
strangers in their stead, is an assertion which is not easily to be
credited.  A single oration of Isocrates is quoted as countenancing
this alleged fact. Addressing the Lacedaemonians, he says, "' Ye
were originally Dorians;" and in another passage he says that thlDorians agreed to follow the Heraclidam on condition of gettintl  a
share of the conquered lands.  On this slender authority rests the
supposed fact, that the Dorians got the whole of this territory by
the extirpation of its fornler inhabitants.  An incidental passage in




cI. IX.]                   LYCURGUS.                        87
the speech of a raetorician, referring to an event which must have
happened near 800 years before his time, is thus the only warrant
for a fact which in itself is contrary to all probability.
And here the question may be put, whence has it happened
thiat this idea of the origin of the Spartan constitution should have
escaped all the politicians of antiquity-all those ingenious and
accurate writers who have been at the utmost pains to delineate
the origin and nature of this extraordinary system of government —
that those great geniuses of antiquity who lived so much nearer to
thile times of which they treated-who had all the information we
hlave, and unquestionably a great deal more that we have lostshoul( not have had the sagacity to develope this very simple idea
of the rise of this extraordinary constitution? How it has happened that Xenophon, Plutarch, Aristotle, Plato, Polybius, should,
after all their researches on the subject, never have once stumbled
upon a truth of such obvious discovery;-that all those writers
should have joined in the highest encomiums of the extraordinary
political ability of Lycurgus in effecting. so singular and so violent
a change in the constitution of his country and manners of his
people;-and that it should now be discovered, at the distance of
above 2600 years, that this legislator, so celebrated in antiquity,
made no change whatever, and had no other merit than that of
fixing by laws the manners of his countrymen in the rude state in
which he found them.
Xeonphon, in his treatise on the Lacedaemonian polity, enlarges
on the most extraordinary genius of Lycurgus, who could devise
a system  so opposite to that of all other establishments, and is
continually adverting to the contrariety between the laws which
he established, and those which prevailed in the neighboring
states.
Plutarch says, that Lycurgus, on returning after an absence of
many years, which he had spent in Crete, in Egypt, in Africa, in
Spain, and in Asia, in conference with the learned men of all those
countries, and in the study of their laws and governments, conceived the great design of entirely new  modelling the laws and
constitution of his country, then in the utmost disorder and imperfection.  Ile mentions particularly that the separation of the
military profession from that of the mechanical arts was what
Lycurgus most admired in Egypt, and thence he introduced the
same regulation among his own countrymen at his return.  He
saw, says Plutarch, that "partial amendments wbuld be like a
mild and gentle medicine in a mortal disease; that the cure must
be made by cutting off at once every principle of ancient corrup-'tion, and thus giving the body politic a new, vigorous, and healthy
constitution."  The same author informs us, that the execution of
this design was attended, as might have been expected, with the
greatest d'fficulty, and relates a particular circumstance which
strongly proves it: the regulation of the diet of the citizens excited




$8                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK- 
such commotion, that the lawgiver in a popular tumult had one of
his eyes beaten out.
Such are the ideas of two of the ablest politicians of antiquity,
who have written professedly of the Spartan constitution and
government.   We have no hint from  them  of this ingeniouls
theory, of fixing the manners of barbarians, or stopping the spring
of society.  Do we find any thing of this notion in Plato?  Not
a word: every thing, on the contrary, which marks an extraordinary change effected by Lycurgus; which intimates the difficulties he met with, and the force of genius by which he surmounted.them.  "' He appeared," says Plato, " like a god among
men."  He realized and actually executed what the greatest philosophers have scarcely dared to imagine: to raise men *above
the passion of interest, above pain, above pleasure; to extinguish
in them the strongest propensities of nature, and to fill their whole
souls with the love of glory and of their country.
Do we find any trace of these modern ideas in Herodotus, in
Aristotle, in Polybius?  Nothing that approaches to them.  Tley
all breathe the same sentiments; they all paint the wonderful
change operated by Lycurgus, the extraordinary genius of that
politician and lawgiver. But the modern theorists have discovered
in the ancient governments principles and political springs which
lay concealed from those who framed and those who lived under
them.  They have traced the principles of the Spartan constitution among every barbarous people: their government and laws
among the savages in Jlmerica; and'the singular manners and
more singular institutions which distinguished the Spartans from
all the rest of Greece, among the tribes of savages who wander in
the wvoods, and live in a state of nature.
If the laws of Sparta have this resemblance to the institutions
of all barbarous nations, I would ask among what barbarous people
do we find such institutions as the following, or any thing in their
manners analogous to them?  Children at Sparta were not considered as belonging to the individual parents, but to the state.
After the performance of the first maternal duties, the youth were
educated at the charge of the public; and every citizen had as
much authority over his neighbor's children as over his own.
Slaves, in the same manner, were, at Sparta, a species of common
property; every man might make use of his neighbor's slaves;
and hunt, as Xenophon informs us, not only with his neighbor's
servants, but with his dogs and horses.  Among nations in their
rudest state, as the wild Americans, we know that the condition of
children is, that they are subjected to the absolute will and disposal
of the father: the community or tribe has no more concern with
the children of the individual, than they have with his bow or his
hatchets or the prey that he has taken; or slain with his arrows.
A communion of property, such as that we have mentioned, is
totally adverse to the manners of a savage people, wh6se charac



CH. IX.]                    iYURGUS.                           89
teristic feature is predominant selfishness, and where the notions of
the individual with respect to the property he possesses are obsti.
nately repugnant to all cornmmunication.
The strong induce.ment, to marriage held forth by the laws of
IPycurgus, by punishing those with infamy who refused to marry,
has no foundation in the manners of a.iy of those barbarous nations
with which we are acquainted.
We discover not in barbarous tribes any thing analogous to the
oath of government, which, at Sparta, was annually renewed
between the kings and people.  The kings swore to rule according to the laws, and the people took a solemn oath, by the mot th
of their magistrates, to' be faithful and obedient, on that condition,
to their government.
The confinement of the citizens of Sparta to the same simple
diet, and the public tables, where all fed in common, have no
parallel among any barbarous people that has ever yet been discovered.  Intemlperance in food, and drunkenness, are among the
predolninant vices of all rude nations.
No philosophic traveller has yet discovered among any barbarous
nations in lbat period when they have become stationary, and have
a fixed territorial residence, any traces of any agrarian law.  If
this could be found in any savage' state, we might then suppose
that Lycurgus made no extraordinary innovation when he divided
Laconia into 39,000 equal portions among its whole inhabitants.
Similar illustrations might be added without number.  It cannot
be alleged, in opposition to those instances I have mentioned, that
they are minute or unessential circrumnstances of dissimilarity, which
would not counterbalance the great and material points of coincidence; they are, on the contrary, great and capital features of the
Spartan constitution, to which we shall not find the stmallest resemblance in the institutions or manners of any barbarous people.
Instances of this kind, where they consist of important and specific
facts, have much more influence than general characters either of
weight or dissimilarity.  It is just as absurd to say, that a barbarous
American tribe, where a chief presides, where the council of the
aged deliberate, and the assembly of the people gives its voice, is
on the eve of such a constitution as that of Sparta, as it were to
say that they are on the eve of such a constitution as that -f
Britaill;-because.there is a coincidence of the same general
characters, a kinz presiding, a privy-couincil deliberating, and the
people giving their voice by their representatives in parliamzent.
I forbear to pirsue this subject to a greater length.  Too Inuch,
it may be thought, has been said on this modern theory of the
Spartan government: but the currency it has obtained, and the
general prevalen e. of the spirit of systematizing, which is hurtful
to inlprovement in most sciences, and is particularly dangerous in
matters of history, seemed to make it necessary that this remarkable example should meet with particular examination.  I provoIC. X.              12




90                   UNIVERSAL HIISTOAY.               [BOOK:
ceed now to a shiort delineation of the constitution of Sparta, ana
shall consider its great legislator in that point of view in which his
character has been regarded by all antiquity.
The return of the Heraclida, as we have seen, gave two kings
to Lacedaemon.  In the partition of their conquests, Sparta fell to
tphe share of Eurysthenes and Procles, the sons of Aristodemus,
1who agreed to a joint dominion, which should descend in the
same manner to their posterity.  The sovereignty, split into two
branches, remained thus divided for about 900 years.  The earlier
periods of this government were, from  that cause, as might have
been expected, most disorderly and tumultuous.  VWhile each ruler
acknowledged no other law than his own will, to which he found
a frequent opposition fromthe equally arbitrary will of another, it
is easy to imagine what must have been the condition of the
subject, and what the weakness and disorder of the kingdom.
In this miserable state" of anarchy, Lycurgus succeeded to one
branch of the throne, by the death of his brother Polydectes; but
the widow of the last prince being after a few months delivered of
a son, he yielded tlie crown to his infant nephew.  Thus at liberty,
and meditating more effectually to serve his country pat a future
period, he travelled into Crete, Asia, and Egypt, in the view of
studying the laws of foreign nations and the spirit of their governInents.   The singular example he had shown of moderation in
resigning the throne, his known abilities, and the fruits expected
fromn those treasures of acquired knowledge he was now supposed
to possess, made his countrymen pray his return with eager impatience.  He returned to Sparta; and even the kings themselves
are said to have joined the voice of the people in soliciting his aid
to reform and save his country.
Iycurgus undertook the arduous office in the true spirit of disinterested  patriotism.   He perceived immediately that he must
encounter the most formidable difficulties in effecting what lihe
proposed,-a total change; not only in the government but in the
manners of his people.  For this great purpose, he had learned
from  the example of the Cretan Minos, that no engine was so
powerfll over the minds of a rude and ignorant people, as the
belief of acting by supernatural aid.  The Delphian oracle, tutored,
it may be supposed, to the purpose, declared Lycurgus the fiiend
and favorite of the gods; and proclaimed to Sparta, that from him
she should derive the most perfect government on earth.
Armed. with this heavenly sanction, Lyctrgus boldly proposed
his systenm.  The former constitution, if it deserved that name,
was an unnatural mixture of an hereditary divided monarchy, and
a disorderly deinocracy.  Between these contending powers, there
was no clearly defined partition of authority, nor any.intermediate
power to preserve the balance.  To supply this want was tile,
first aim of 1.ycurgus.  He created a senate, elective, of twentyeight members, whose function was, as a national council, to




CU. IX.J                   LYCURGUS.                          91
prepare and digest laws and ordinances, which the people had a
power to approve or reject.  Nothing could conle before fthe
assembly of the pe6ple that had not either originated in the senate,
or previously received its sanction.  On'the other hand, the
approbation of the people was necessary to validate the deterininations of the senate.  Thus, in fact, the sovereignty resided
przoperly in the people; to whom  the senate was a council, furnished with sufficient power to regulate without dictating their
determinations.
The kings presided in the senate, and had a double suffrage.
They were likewise the generals 6f the republic; but in other
respects, their power was extreinely limited.  They could form
no enterprise without the sanction of a council of the'citizens,
whose duty was to watch over their measures.  On considering
this circumnscribed authority of the kings, Condillac has well
remarked, that the throne seemed preserved in the line of the
Heraclidte, only with the view of preventing any citizen aspiring
to it; and two kings were in reality less dangerous to liberty than
oile; since they constantly kept alive two opposite. parties, each
restraining the other's ambition, and thus preventing all approach
to tyranny.
A  system  thus simple, and thus beautifully balanced, seemed
in some measure to ensure its own duration.  But Lycurgus well
knew, that permanence was not to be looked for from the best
concerted system, if attention were not given at the same timJe
to the regulation of that great spring on which all governments
depend, the manners of the people.  Quid leges sine moribus
vane proficiunt?
In this important article, the regulation of manners, one single
principle influenced the whole plan of Lycurgus.  Luxury is the
bane of society.  Let us see in what manner the particular institutions, of the Spartan legislator were calculated to guard against
that powerful source of corruption.
The inequality of possessions was in the first place to be corrected, which could not be done without a new partition of territorial property.  This was in all probability the greatest of those
difficulties which Lycurgus had to encounter.  An agrarian law,
as striking at the root of wealth, pre-eminence and lutxury, is
of all political regulations that which has ever been found of tile
most difficul! accomplishment.  We shall see the effects of such
attempts in the Roman commonwealth.  The Greek historians
have left us much in the dark as to the means which I,yecurgus
employed to enforce this necessary, but harsh and violent change.
It seems most probable that he gained the wealthiest of the citizens to an acquiescence in this measure, by artfully employing thle
passion of honor to combat that of interest; for exan}mple, by
a(lnitting this class of men chiefly to a share in the governnment
of the state, when the senate was first formed, and the chlief offices




92                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                  [1BOK i.
of the commonwealth supplied.  As for the great body of the peo
ple, they*vould probably be gainers by the distribution.
The more effectually to annihilate the distinction of wealth, the
Spartan legislator, instead of gold and silver, substituted iron
money; the small value of which rendered the current specie of
such unwieldy bulk, that no individual could easily accumulate a
large quantity without the discovery of his avarice.  The sum  of
ten mince, equal to about thirty pounds sterling, would, in the
Spartan money, as Plutarch tells us, fill a large apartment, and
could not be transported without a yoke of oxen.  This iron
money, moreover, being prdbably estimated  at a higher value
than its intrinsic worth, prevented its currency beyond the Lace.
daemonian territory; and thus contributed to another view of the
legislator, in checking all commercial intercourse with foreign
states.
In a government formed upon the principle of exterminating
luxury, and abolishing all inequality of property, the exercise of
no arts could be tolerated unless such as were merely necessary.
Tlhe practice-even of these, which might Ihave occasioned some
inequality of wealth, was forbidden to all the free subjects of the
state, and permitted only to the slaves.  Commerce was strictly'
prollibited; and althbough  the ter itory of Lacedaenon contained a
considerable extent of sea-coast, and afforded many excellent harbors, the Spartans allowed no foreigners to approach their shores,
and had not a single trading vessel of their own.
Amidst these regulations regressive of every species of luxury,
one of the most remarkable was the institution of the Public
Tables. The whole citizens of the republic were divided into
vicinlages of fifteen families, and each vicinage had a common
table, where all were obliged to dine or make their principal
repast, each taking his place in the public hall without distinction
of ranks; the kings, senators, and magistrates, indiscriminately
with the people. Here all partook of the same homely fare
dressed in the simplest and most frugal manner.  At those public
tables tile youth not only learned moderation and temperance, but
wisdom  and good morals.  The conversation was regulated and
prescribed.  It turned solely on such subjects as tended to instil
into the minds of the rising generation the principles of virtue, and
that affection for their country which characterizes tilhe worthy citizens of every government, but was peculiarly eminent under the
Spartan constitution.
Among the principal objects of the institutions of Lycurgus, the
education of the youth of the republic was that on which the
legislator hlad bestowed the most particular attention.  Children,
after they had attained the age of seven, were no longer the charge
of their parents, but of the state.  Before that period, they were
talight at home the great lessons of obedience and firugality.
Afterwards, under public masters, their.education was such as to




Cs.- iX,                   LYCURGUS.                        93
train them up to that species of heroism, and the practice of the
severer virtues, which so strongly marked the Spartan character.
They were taught to despise equally danger and pain. To shrink
under the stroke of punishment was a sufficient reason for having
that punishment redoubled.  Their very sports and amusements
were such as are fitted to promote a strength of constitution, and
vigor and agility of body.  The athletic exercises were prescribed
alike for both sexes; as the bodily vigor of the mother is essential
to that of her offspring.  To run, to swim, to wrestle, to hunt,
were the constant exercise of the youth.  With regard to the
culture of the mind, the Spartan discipline admitted none of those
studies which tend to refine or embellish the understanding.  But
the duties of religion, thL: inviolable bond of a promise, the sacred
obligation of an oath, the respect due to parents, the reverence for
old age, the strictest obedience to the laws; and above all, the
love of their country, the noble flame of patriotism, were early and
assiduously inculcated.  In impressing on the mind these most
important lessons, the great duties of morality, and instructing the
youth in the knowledge of the laws of their country, the utmost
attention was deservedly bestowed.
An acquaintance with the laws was a most material object in
the education of all the citizens.  Lycurgus did not permit his
laws to be written.  They were few  and simple; and  were
impressed on the memory of the youth by their parents and
masters, continually renewed in their minds by the conversation
of their elders, and most effectually enforced by the daily practice
of their lives.
Thus the reproach which some authors have thrown on the
Spartan education, that it was fitted only to make a nation of soldiers-and that the mind as to every useful science, was left in
absolute ignorance-is a rash and ill-founded accusation.   The
utmost attention was, on the contrary, bestowed on those which
are the most important of all mental occupations, the duties of
morality, and that true philosophy which teaches both the practice
of the domestic virtues, and the great and important obligations of
a citizen. The youth of Sparta, from their attendance at the
public tables, were from  their infancy familiarly acquainted with
all the important business of the commonwealth.  They knew
thoroughly its constitution, the powers of the several functionaries
of the state, and the defined duties and rights which belonged to
the kings, the magistrates, and the citizens.  Hence arose (mnore
than perhaps from  any other cause) that permanence of constitution which has been so justly the admiration, both of ancient and
of modern politicians: for where all orderS of men know their
nrecise rights and duties, and there are laws sufficient to secure to
them the one, and protect them in the exercise of the other, there
will rarely be a factious struggle for power or preeminence; as.all
Inordinate ambition will be most effectually repressed by a general




94                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 [BOOK r.
spirit of vigilance and caution, as well as the difficulty and danger
attendant on innovations.
But while we thus give to.the general outlines of the plan of
Lyctlrgus that encornium which it justly merits, let us not become
the blind panegyrists of a system which, in many particulars, considered in detail, was much more deserving of blame than of
admiration.
The Lacedemonian manners, to the regulation of which so
nmuch attention was paid by the laws of Lycurgus, have afforded
very ample matter of censure.  The regulations especially regarding women have drawn on the Spartan legislator much deserved
condemnation, both from  moralists and politicians.  Amidst all
that rigid austerity of manners which tLe laws of Lycurgts seem
calculated to enforce, how astonishing is it that public decency
and decorum  should have been totally overlooked!  The Spartan
women were the reproach of all Greece for their immodesty; and
Aristotle imputes chiefly to their licentiousness and intemperance
those disorders which were ultimatelv the ruin of the state.  The
men and women firequented promiscuously the public baths: the
youth of both sexes ran, wrestled, and fought naked in the palastra.
Plutarch tells us, in one passage of the Life of Lycurg(us, that
there was no such thing as adultery known in Sparta in ancient
tines.  But it is difficult to reconcile this assertion of Plutarch
with what he himself records of that extraordinary peculiarity of
the laws of Lycurgus which permitted one citizen to borrow
another's wife, for the purpose of a good breed; and held it no
dishonor for an aged man who had a handsome wife, to offer her
to a young man, and to educate as his own the issue of that connection.  The chief end of marriage, according to the lawgiver's
notions, was to furnish the state with a vigorous and healthy race
of citizens.  It were therefore mnore just to have said, not that
adultery was unknown at Sparta, but that there was no such crime
recognised by its laws.
Yet Lycurgus, with an apparent inconsistency, which it is not
easy to reconcile, had laid down the strictest regulations regarding
the commerce between the sexes after marriage.  The Spartan
marriages were performed in secret: the husband stole away, or
forcibly carried away, his wife: she was dressed for some time in
man's apparel, to conceal her; Wvhile the husband continued to
sleep as usual in the public dormitories with his companions, and
to see his wife only by stealth, till the birth of a child made limn
luown at once as a husband and a father.*
The laws of Lycurgus discouraged celibacy by some very extraordinary
regulations respecting old bachelors. They were forbidden to dance with
women; and were compelled to walk naked through the streets in the winter
singring a ludicrous song which confessed the justice of their punishment
Gillie's History of Greece; c. iii.




.tH. IX.]                LACED.MON.                           95
It is"not only in the article of chastity that the Spartan laws
have been justly. blamed.  Theft was a part of the system  of
education at Lacedaemon.  Children were sent out to steal from
the public markets and gardens, from  the butchers' stalls, and
even from  private houses.  If unsuccessful, they were punished
with the loss of a meal; if detected in the theft, they w.ere
scourged with severity.  It is a lame apology for an institution of
this kind to say that it habituated them early to stratagems of war,
to danger, and to vigilance.  The talents of a thief are "ery
different fiom the virtues ofa warrior.
Cruelty, too, a quality extremely opposite to; heroic virtue, was
a strong ingredient in the Spartan system  of m nners.  Paternal
or maternal tenderness seemed perfectly unknown among  this
ferocious people.  New-born children were publicly inspected by
the elders of each tribe; and such as promised to be of a weak
and delicate constitution were immediately put to death by drowning.,. At the festival of Diana, children were scourged, sometimes
even to death, in the presence of their mothers, who exhorted
them, meantime, to suffer every extremity of pain without complaint or murmur.  It is no wonder that such mothers should
receive, without emotion, the intelligence of the death of a son in
the field of battle; but is it possible to believe that on such occasions they should so far conquer nature as to express a transport
Gf joy?  What judgment must we form of the Spartan notions of
patriotic virtue, when, to love their country, it was thouglt necessary to subdue and extinguish the strongest feelings of humanity,
the first instinct of nature.
The barbarous treatment which the Lacedaemonians bestowed
on their slaves, or Helots, is mentioned by all ancient writers with
extreme censure and just indignation.  The Helots were a neighboring people of Peloponnesus, whom they had subdued in war,
and reduced to servitude.   They were numerous, and had at
times attempted to shake off their yoke; whence it was judged a
necessary policy to curb, to intimidate, and to weaken them by
the most shocking inhumanity.  It was not allowable to sell or to
export them; but the youth were encouraged to put them  to
death for pastime.  They went forth to the field to hunt theml
like wild beasts; and when at any time it was apprehended that
those unhappy wretches had become so numerous as to endanger
the state, the cryptia, or secret act, viz: a general massacre in the
night, was ordained by law.  The apologists of the Spartan legislator tell us, that these enormities cannot be imputed to Lycurgus;
that they sprang fi'om the perversion of his institutions, and were
unknown in the early and more virtuous periods of the Lacedaemonian state; but a very little reflection must convince us, that they
arose necessarily from that system of manners which his institutions were calculated to form.
It were easy to show that the Spartan institutions, however ex



96                       UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                    [BOOK L
cellent in many respects, carried in themselves the seeds of m ich
disorder.
To virtue there is no such enemy as idleness; but the Lacedwmonians, unless when engaged in  war, were totally unoccuplied.
Lycurgus, it is said, wanted to make a nation of soldiers.*   So his
apologists conclude, because they find that his constitution was
more proper for producing that effect than  any other.  But the
ultimate object of all legislation  is not to give a people any particllar character, but to furnish them with such laws as are suited
to  produce, in  their situation, the  greatest political happiness.
I.ycurgus may have judged that the military character was most
proper for producing that effect.  In a small territory like that of
Lacedaemon, security was evidently the first and principal object;
and therefore to cherish the military spirit as essential to that end
was deservedly a primary view  of the legislator; but it ought not
to have been his only view.  It is in peace that a nation enjoys
its truest happiness; and to qualify the citizens of every government for that which is their natural state, the sound health of the
body politic, is certainly the chief end of legislation.  Much therefore as we may admire the genius and talents of Lycurgus, we
cannot say that he had extensive or even just views as a politician,
since he seems to have concluded that while his laws cherished
the military spirit, every other virtue or quality of a citizen would
follow of course. -The Lacedawmonians therefore exhibited in their
general character exactly what might have been expected froinm
the discipline that trained them. Unless when engaged in war,
they were absolutely idle and listless.  They had no occupations
for a season of peace. The distinction of professions,. which in
other states gives rise to that separation of interests which, animating each individual, inspires life and vigor into the whole comrnrmunity, was there  totally  unknown.   The  common  good, or
rather the glory, of the state, came in place of every private inter*Xenophon, who had fought for and against the Lacedeamonians, remarks,
that in the knowledge and practice of war, they. far excelled all other nations,
both Greeks and barbarians. Their troops were divided into regiments consistin of 512 men, subdivided into four companies, and each of these into smaller
divisions, commanded by their respective officers. The soldiers were attended
by a multitude of artisans and slaves, who furnished them with all necessary
supplies, and accompanied by a long train of priests and poets, who flattered
their hopes and animated their valor.  A body of cavalry always preceded
their Inarch. They encamped in a circular forni; they employed for their security out-sentries and videttes; and regularly every morning and evening
performed their customary exercises.  In the day of battle, the Spartans
assumed an unusual gaiety of aspect; and displayed in their dress and ornaments more than their wonted splendor. Their long hair was ararnged with
simple elegance; their scarlet uniforms and brazen armor diffused a lustre
around them. As they approached the eneminy, the king performed sacrifice,
the music struck up, and they advanced with firmness and alacrity to the
clihrge. Xenophon has declared, that when he considered the discipline of
the Spartans, all other nations appeared but children in the art of war.-Xenoph. de Rep. Lac.; Gillies's Hist. of Greece, c. 3.




pmu. XX;.)                 LACLEDPMQN.                      97
est-a noble object! but, unhappily, from the weakness of our
nature, utterly inadequate to, the desires and passions of the great
mass of a people.  The insipid and inactive life of the Spartans
was accordingly a perpetual subject of raillery to the rest of the
Greeks, and to none more than to the busy, restless, and volatile
Athenians.  To this purpose.Elian mentions a witticism of Alcibiades, when some one was vaunting to him the contempt which
the Lacedaemrnonians had for death: i" It is no wonder," said he,
"since it relieves them from  the heavy burden of an idle and
stupid life."
From the military character, however, of this people, the small
extent of their territory, and the wise precautions of their lawgiver
for preventing all extension of'its limits, the constitution of this
republic possessed a very strong principle of duration. We shall
see that in reality it subsisted much longer without any important
revolution than anytother of the states of Greece.
The first material change, however, upon the system of Lycurgus
was made within 130 years of his own time, by the introduction
of a new magistracy, under the name, of the Ephori.  Theopoinpus, one of the kings, jealous of the power of the senate, which
was generally supported by the concurring judgment of the people,
devised a' plan for influencing their resolutions, by giving them a
set of officers of their own body.  These officers, termed Ephori,
were five in ntmber; they were elected by the people, and
enjoyed a similar but a higher power than that of the tribunes of
"Ve people at Rome.  Instituted at first to form  an equipoise
between tile senate and people, they gradually usurped a paramount
power in the state. Thley could, by their own authority, expel or
degrade the senators, and even punish them capitally for any
offience which they might interpret into a state crime.  The kings
themselves were under their control, and the Ephori had a right to
fine them and put them in arrest; a dangerous prerogative, which
it was easy to see would never stop short of absolute power; and
accordingly they assumed at length the function of deposing and
putting the kings to death.  These, on the other hand, stillnominally the chief magistrates, plotted against the power and persons
of the Ephori; they bribed, deposed, and murdered them.  Thus
in the latter periods of the Spartan commonwealth, instead of that
equal balance established by the original plan of Lycurgus, there was
between the different branches of this constitution a perpetual
contention for superiority, the continual source of faction and disorder.  Most of the internal causes which in time operated to the
decline and fall of the Spartan government, particularly to be found
n those institutions which led to the corruption of manners, havebeen already noticed. These silently undermined this political
fabric; while other causes external of its constitution were the
more direct and immediate causes of its destruction.  These shall
VoL. I.                 13




98                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 ([Boor x
be opened in their order, while we pursue the general outlines
of the national history; after a brief delineation of the rival repulb
lie of Athens, to which we proceed in the next chapter.
CHAPTER X.
THE REPUeLIC OF ATHENS - Revolution in the States of Attica — Regal
Government abolished — perpetual Archons - Draco - Solon - His Institutions - Senate - Areopagus re-established - Power of the Popular Assemblies
-Laws- Ostracism — Appeal from all Courts to the People-Manners-Revenue —Grecian History continued, Pisistratus, Hippias, and Hipparchus -
Alcmmonidw.
I HAVE, in a former chapter, observed that Greece, in the early
part of her history, probably owed some of her greatest political
revolutions to her first colonies.  The prosperity which the mother
country saw her children enjoy in their new settlements, while
she herself was yet groaning under the worst of all servitude, that
of a bad government, naturally inspired an eager wish to attain if
possible a similar freedom of constitution.  The domestic disorders
of Attica, in particular, had grown to a great height. The union
of its states by Theseus was but a forced league of association:
it was the consequence of the subordinate cities being involved in
frequent quarrels, and hence courting the aid of the principal, that
the latter thus acquired a sort of dominion over the whole of
them.  To bind these firmly together it was necessary to annihilate
in the smaller states this sense of dependence on the principal;
to make them  all parts of the same body, by abolishing their
particular magistracies, bringing about a submission to the same
general magistrates, and giving them a common system of laws.
Theseus, and his immediate successor, had  attempted  this, but
were unequal to the task. The disorders which arose from the
tyranny of some of those princes effected an union which their
slender political talents had labored in vain to accomplish-; but
an union hostile to their powers, which had for its end the abolition of the regal office. Codrus, the last of the kings, was, as we
lhave seen, a true patriot, and worthy to reign; but he having
sacrificed his own life to save his country, the Athenians, dreading
a renewal of their former oppression, determined to make the trial
of a new constitution. They were ignorant, however, of the best
means of obtaining what they desired. They abolished the title




cH. x.]                   ATHENS.                           99
of king, while the magistrates whom they put in his place enjoyed
almost the same authority. From respect to the memory of
Codrus, they appointed his son Medon chief magistrate, with the
title of archon or commander.  They conferred on him the, office
for life, and even continued it hereditary in his family; so that the
Athenian republic was governed for 331 years by a succession of
perpetual archons of the family of Codrus.  Of the difference
between their authority and that of the former kings, historians
have given us no distinct idea.  Some writers, indeed, tell us, in
general terms, that the perpetual archons were accountable to the
people for their conduct,-a control which the kings did not
acknowledge;-but as to the precise nature of the Athenian government at this time, we are, on the whole, extremely ignorant.
This form, however, of a monarchy in all its essentials, though
without the name, became in the end equally grievous as that
which had preceded it.  The perpetual archonship was abolished,
and the office was now conferred for ten years.  Even this duration was found repugnant to the prevailing spirit of democracy;
and after submitting for a few years to the decennial archonship,
they reduced the term to a single year, and appointed nine magistrates with equal authority. Of these the chief was called by preeminence the archon, and, like the Roman consuls, gave his name
to the current year in the state annals.  The second archon had
the title of king, (Bxa1r&,v,) and was the head of the religion of
the state; the third was termed the polemarch, from  his function
of regulating all military affairs. The remaining six archons were
called thesmothetai, and held the office of judges in the civil
courts of the republic.  The whole body of nine formed the
supreme council of the state.
Meantime the constitution was by no means strictly defined.
The laws framed during the regal government, and accommodated
to that despotic authority, were quite unsuitable to the democratic
spirit now become predominant; and no attempts had yet been
made for their alteration or improvement.  The limited power of
the annual magistrates was insufficient to check those factions and
disorders which a yearly returning election kept constantly alive in
the mass of the people.
A virtuous citizen of the name of Draco, whose eminent qualities had raised him to the dignity of chief archon, was prompted to
attempt a reform, by introducing a code of laws* which might
operate as a restraint on all orders of the state.  Presuming that
a desperate disease requires a violent remedy, and probably influenced by the austerity of his own temper, the penal laws which
he framed made no distinction of offences, but punished all equally
*There were probably no written laws at Athens before those of Draco.dul. Gell. i. 1., c. 18.




o00                  UNIVERSAL.I1sT6RY.               [:BOOK a
with death.  The genius of Draco was evidently tunequal to the
task he had undertaken: he made some changes of form  without
the essence.  He weakened, it is said, the authority of tile Areo-o
pagus, and instituted a new tribunal, of which the judges were
termned- ephetai, but which was of no duration; and the extreme
severity of his laws defeated their own. object. They were rarely
executed, and fell at length into complete disuse.
In the 3d year of the 46th Olympiad, and 594 years before the
Christian era, Solon, a noble Athenian, of the, posterity of Codrus,
attained the dignity of archon, and was solemnly intrusted by his
countrymen with the high power of new modelling the state, and
framing for the Athenians a complete digest of civil laws.  Solon
was a man of extensive knowledge, a virtuous man, and a true
patriot; but he seems to have been deficient in that strength of
mind and intrepidity of nature which are absolutely necessary for
the reformation of a corrupted government.  His disposition was
too placid and too temporizing.  He aimed not at changing the
character of his people, nor did he at- all attempt to introduce
that equality among the citizens so essential to the constitution *of
a democracy.  Accommodating himself to the prevailing passions
of men, rather than endeavoring to correct them, his laws, as he
said himself, were not the best possible, but the best which the
Athenians were capable of receiving.*
The people claimed the chief power in the state-Solon gave
it them.  The rich wanted offices and dignities-the system  of
Solon accommodated them  to the ut'most of their wishes.  He
divided the whole citizens into four classes.  In the three former
wivre the richer citizens, according to their different degrees of
wealth.  The first class consisted of those who were worth 500
medimni of grain, or as many measures of oil; the medinnuis,
according to Arbuthnot's tables of weights and measures, was
somewhat more than four English pecks. The second class consisted of those who were worth 300 medimni, and who were able
to furnish a horse in time of war.  The third class comprehended'such as had 200 m'edimni; and the fourth class consisted of all
the rest of the citizens.  All the dignities and offices of the commonwealth were supplied out of the three first classes, or tihe
wealthy citizens; but the fourth, which was much more numerous
than all the other three, had their right of suffrage in the Ecclesia,
public assemblies, where the whole important business of the state
was canvassed and determined.  The framing of laws, the election
of magistrates, the making war or peace, the forming treaties and
alliances, and the regulation of all that regarded either religion or
civil policy, were debated and decreed in the public assemblies;
-* Plutarch's Life of Solon.




ca. X.]                        SOLON.                             11
where the fourth class, from  their vast superiority of numbers,
carried every question, and of course had supreme rule.  In these
assemblies every citizen above fifty years of age had the privilege
of haranguing.*'
To counteract the mischief of a government entirely in the hands
of the people, and to regulate in some measure the proceedings
of those assemblies, necessarily tumultuous and undecisive, Solon
instituted a senate of 400 members, chosen friom  among the most
respectable of the citizens, whom  he invested with the power of
deliberating on and preparing all public measures before they came
under the cognizance of the popular assemblies; a regulation which
gave rise to this just remark of Plutarch, that Solon employed the
wise men to reason, and the fools to decide.  No motion or overture with regard to the affairs of the commonwealth could take its
origin in the Ecclesia: it must have been previously canvassed and
debated in the Senate. This great council was augmented to 500,
and afterwards to 600, upon an increase of number of the Athenian
tribes.
Still further to restrain and moderate the proceedings of the publie assemblies, Solon re-established the authority of the Areopagus,
which Draco had abridged and weakened by the institution of the
Ephetai.  And this tribunal, of whose origin and constitution we
have formerlv treated, was now invested with more extensive
powers and privileges than it had ever before enjoyed.  To this
august assembly Solon committed the guardianship of his laws,
and tile charge of executing them.  They had the custody of the
public treasury -and, as Plutarch informs us in the Life of Themistocles, the charge of its expenditure; but this last seems to
be inconsistent with the powers lodged in the senate and people.
The court of Areopagus, likewise, had a tutorial power over all
the youth of the republic.  They appointed them  masters and
governors, and superintended their education.  They were likewise
the censors of the manners of the people, and were employed to
punish the idle and disorderly, and reward the diligent and industrious.  For this purpose, they were empowered to inquire minutely
into the private life and conduct of every citizen; the funds he
To give some idea of the numbers Lwhich einstituted the public assembly, or
the legislature:of Athens, we learn from two polls of the citizens that were
taken, first in the time of Pericles, and afterwards in that of Demetrius Phalereus,
that the Atheniani citizens in the former period amounted to 14,040 persons, and
in the latter to 21,000. The remaining population of the republic consisted of
slaves, male and female, and children and youth under the age of manhood. The
former, namely, the actual slaves, amounted to no less than 400,000. The proportion of the free citizens to slaves was still smaller at Lacedemon than at Athens;
whence we may judge how far liberty was truly the characteristic of these ancient
republics, whose constitution has been the subject of so m'uch foolish admiration.
See Gillies's Translation of Lysias and JIscrates, Pref.; and M!iford's Greece, vol.
p 253.-Th ucyd. 1. viii. c. 40




102                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                LBOOEK.
possessed, the profession he followed, and the manner in which he
spent his time: an excellent institution, if we could suppose it to
be strictly enforced.  The regulatiorn of every thing that regarded
religion was likewise committed to this high tribunal.
I have remarked, in a former chapter, that the number of the
Areopagites. seems to have been various at different periods; as
some authors mention this tribunal as consisting only of nine judges,
others of thirty-one, and others again of fifty-one.  Nay, there
is a probability that, in the more advanced times of the cornmonwealth, the numbers; were even quadruple what has been mentioned.  If the trial of Socrates proceeded before this court, which
the nature of his crime (the charge of attacking the religion of his
country) makes it presumable it did, we find 281 judges who
voted against him, besides those who gave their suffrages in his
favor.
The judges of the Areopagus were chosen from among the most
respectable of the citizens, and were generally such as had discharged the office of archon.  The niost scrupulous attention was
paid to character in the election of these judges. The sligltest
imputation of immorality, a single act of indecency, or even of
unbecoming levity, was sufficient to disqualify from obtaining a seat
in that tribunal, or to forfeit a place after it had been conferred.
To be found in a tavern was such a stain on the character of a
judge, that it was deemed a sufficient reason of exclusion firom
that office.  Let no.areopagite, says the Athenian laws, compose
a comedy.  That judge was justly thought to have prostituted his
character, who had stooped to employ his talents in furnishing a
frivolous amusement for the people.
The' institution of the senate, and the revival of the authority of
the Areopagus, imposed undoubtedly some restraint on the proceedings of the popular assemblies.  But still the Athenian populace had the ultimate power of decision in all the affairs of the
commonwealth; a constitution that must have rendered fruitless
the regulations of the wisest legislator that ever existed.  The
subsequent detail of the Grecian history will afford some strong
instances of the miseries which flow from so defective a form of
government.  " Ila vetus Grcecia, (says Cicero,) quce quondam
opibus, imperio, g      loria forit, hoc uno malo concidit, libertate
immoderata ac licentidc concionum."*  It was not alone by this
disease, as we shall show in its proper place, although that must
unquestionably be allowed to have had a great influence.  Athens,
in particular, was from that cause a scene of incessant disorders and
combustion.  Continual factions divided the people, and it was
* C Ancient Greece herself-once flourishing in dominion, wealth, and fame
fell by this disease alone-the immoderate freedom and licentiousness of her
popular assemblies."




oH. -x.]                  ATHENS.                         103
often in the power of a venal orator, a worthless demagogue,
whose only merit was a voluble tongue and dauntless effrontery,
to counteract the measures of the greatest political wisdom, and
persuade to such as were ruinous and disgraceful. Athens often
saw her best patriots, the wisest and most virtuous of her citizens,
shamefully sacrificed to the most depraved and most abandoned.
The particular laws of the Athenian state were, generally
speaking, more deserving of encomium than its form of government.  Solon restrained the severity of creditors to their debtors,
by prohibiting all imprisonment for debt; but he restrained at the
saine time the frequency of contracting debts by the severe penalty
of the forfeiture of the rights of citizenship; a punishment which,
though it did not reduce a man to servitude, deprived him of all
v.oice in the public assembly, or share in the government of the
commonwealth.  In like manner, if a debtor died insolvent, his
heir was disfranchised till the debt was paid. This was a wise
regulation; for no indigent man ought to be q legislator., The
Areopagus, by an inquiry termed dokimasia, inquired into the life
and morals of all who held offices in the state, and such as could
not stand the scrutiny were not only incapacitated for employ, but
declared infamous.  Such was the award likewise against a son
who should refuse to support his indigent parents.  Solon ordained
that a man's inheritance should be equally divided among all his
lawiful children, and allowed no higher provision to an illegitimate
child than five mince. Hle permitted a husband to divorce his
wife on restoring her dowry; and a wife to leave her husband
upon reasonable cause shown to a judge, and allowed by him.
By the Athenian laws, children, whose fathers were killed in
the service of their country, were appointed to be educated at the
public expense. "' Let the father" (says the laws of Solon) " have
the privilege of bestowing on that son a funeral encomium, who
died valiantly fighting in the field.  He who receives his death
while fighting with undaunted courage in the front of the battle,
shall have an annual harangue spoken to his honor."
The laws relating to slaves did great honor to the humanity of
the Athenians, and formed a strong contrast to the inhuman usages
which prevailed with regard to them at Lacedremon. All Athenian slaves were allowed to purchase their freedom at a price
stipulated by the magistrate.  If any slave found his treatment
intolerably severe, and was unable to purchase his freedom, he
might oblige his master to sell him to another who would use him
better. The emancipation of a slave, however, did not exempt
him from all the duties to his master.  He was still bound to the
performance of certain services which the law prescribed, and to
show him due homage and respect as a patron and benefactor.
Such enfranchised slaves were not admitted to the rights of citizens.  They were not allowed to attend the public assemblies;
nor could they hold any office in the commonwealth. Their




104                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK I
enfranchisement relieved them only from the hardships of servitude.  Yet they might marry free woomen; and their children by
such had all the rights of citizens.
It was a very singular law of the Athenians, which permitted a
man to bequeath his wife, like any other part of his estate, to any
one whom he chose for his successor.  The mother of Demosthenes was left by will to Aphobus, with a fortune of eighty mince~
The form of such a bequest has been preserved, and runs thus:
s" This is the last will of Pasio the Acharnean.  I bequeath nlmy
wife Archippe to Phormio, with a fortune of one talent in Peparrhetus, one talent in Attica, a house worth a hundred minm, together
with the female slaves, the ornaments of gold, and whllatever else
may be in it."              -
One law of a very improper tendency, was peculiar to the state
of Athens:-it was that which allowed a popular action for most
offences,-or permitted any citizen to be the prosecutor of any
crime committed against a citizen.  An injury done to an individual, it is true, is not only an offence against that person, butt likewise against the state, whose laws are thereby violated: yet it is
a very dangerous policy to allow to any person whatever of the
public, a right of prosecuting the aggressors.  It is easy to con.
ceive what a source would thus be opened for unjust, revengeful,
and calumnious prosecutions.  It is true, that the mischiefs which
might possibly arise from  this law were~ counteracted, in some
measure, by another ordinance, which declared, that any accuser
or prosecutor who had not a fifth part of the votes in his favor
should pay a heavy fine; but the remedy was not adequate to the
~evil-for even the most calumnious accusations might often find.a
fifth part of the people to support them; and the rich would
seldom  be restrained from  the gratification of malevolence or
revenge by a pecuniary fine.
This leads to the mention of one most impolitic and pernicious
law; not indeed peculiar to Athens, but common likewise to the
states of Argos, M egara, Miletus, Syracuse, and others.  Solon,
who found the temperament of his countrymen repugnant to those
rigorous restraints on the accumulation of wealth which Lycurgus
had established at Sparta, was desirous however of providing some
security against the danger which might arise in a democracy,
from any individual attaining an inordinate degree of power or
influence. For this purpose the Athenian lawgiver retained and
enforced an ancient institution termed the Ostracism, which was
said to have been first introduced in the age of Theseus.  The
professed object of this institution was not the punishment of
offenders. It was not requisite that a man should be accused of
any crime to deserve the sentence of the ostracism.  It was enough'Jones's Commentary o Ismas.




CH. X.]               ATHENIAN OSTRACISM.                    105
that any person, either from his wealth, his uncommon talents, or
even his eminent virtues, should become an object either of envy,
or of public praise and admiration.  When a citizen had arrived
at that degree of credit as to fall under either of those descriptifdns,
and to offend by too much popularity, any individual of the people
might demand an ostracism. The ceremony was this: every
citizen who chose took a shell or piece of tile, on which having
written the name of the person in his opinion the most obnoxious,
he carried it to a certain place in the forum, which was inclosed
with  rails, and had ten gates, for ten tribes.  Officers were
appointed to count the number of shells; for, if. they were fewer
than 6000, the vote did not take place.  If they exceeded that
number, the several names were laid apart, and the mah whose
name was found on the greatest number of shells, was banished
for ten years firom his country; his estate in the meantime remaining entire for his own use or that of the family.
This "shelling," though it has found its advocates, as apparently
consonant in theory to the spirit of a pure republic, was in pact.ice
a barbarous, disgraceful, and impolitic institution.  It powerfully
repressed ambition; but it was by discouraging merit and the
desire of excellence.  It afforded an easy handle for the worst and
most dangerous members of the commonwealth to rid themselves
ofqthe worthiest and the best: thus counteracting its own end, and
paving the way for that usurpation against which it was intended
as a barrier.  It recommended the worst passions of the hunIan
mind under the disguise of the best: it substituted envy for patriotism, made virtue criminal, and stained the nation with the most opprobrious character,-that of public ingratitude.  Thus we find, in
the course of the history of this republic, that virtuie, without the
imputation or suspicion of ambitious views, was frequently the
victim  of this pernicious law.  It was enough that Aristides b)y
his virtues had merited the glorious epithet of just: that epithet,
in the eyes of the Athenian people, was- sufficient crime.  When
Aristides himself was passing by, an illiterate rustic requested him
to write upon his shell the name of fIristides.  Why, what harm,
my friend, said the other, has Aristides done you?  None in the
world, replied the clown; but I hate to hear every body call nim
the Just.  Thucydides, from whom Athens had received the most
eminent services, at length the victim  of ostracism, composed in
his exile that history in which he records the fame of his ungrateful
country; a fact which has drawn from  Cicero this severe but just
remark: -   Hos libros turn scripsisse dicitur, cum a republica
remotus, et id quod optimo cuique civi Athenis accidere solitlun
est, in exilium pulsus esset." *  With much reason does Valerius
*" Those great works are said to have been written when he was driven
into exile; the common reward bestowed by Athens on her most virtuous
citizens."
VOL, x.                   14




106                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                LBOOK I
Maximus, after enumerating the instances of similar ingratitude to
Miltiades, to Cimon, to Themistocles, to Phocion, and particularly
to Aristides, exclaim with bitter irony: -  " Felices Athenas, quLa
post illius exilium invenire aliquem aut virum  bonum, ant amantem
sui civem potuerunt. "*
The laws of Solon, unlike those of Lycurgus, were all committed to writing: but one fault, common to all the laws of the
Athenian legislator, was the obscurity with which they were
expressed: a capital defect indeed of laws, when, instead of a
clear warning voice, which, teaching every man his duty, represses
litigation, they mislead by their obscurity, and are thus the perpetual source of contest and chicane.
It was a singular peculiarity of the constitution of Athens, and,
as Plutarch informs us, likewise of Thebes, that after a law was
voted and passed in the assembly of the people, the proposer of
the law might have been cited in the ordinary civil courts, tried,
and brought to punishment, if the court was of opinion that the
law was prejudicial to the public.  This peculiarity is noticed in
one of Mr. Hume's political essays, (Of some remarkable Cus
tomts,) and that author mentions several examples in the Grecian
history; among the rest, the trial of Ctesiphon, for that law which
he had proposed and carried, for rewarding the services of Demosthenes with a crown of gold; a trial which gave occasion to two
of the most splendid and animated orations that remain to us of the
composition of the ancients; the orations of Aschines and Demostlhenes Ileql sspvov.  This species of trial was entitled the r[Quq
uQ(,,oou&', or the indictment of illegality; and was intended as a
check upon the popular leaders, who, by their influence  in the
public assemblies, were able frequently to procure the enactment
of most pernicious laws. This was indeed a violent remedy, and
apparently  very  contrary  to  republican  freedom; but it was
esteemed so beneficial a provision, that IEschines, in his oration
against Ctesiphon, maintains that the democracy could not subsist
without it.
An appeal lay from all the Athenian tribunals, except the
Areopagus, to the ecclesia, or assembly of the people.  The interpretation of the laws may thus be said to have depended ultimately
on the judgment of a populace swayed by prejudices, divided by
faction, or the dupes of a worthless orator or demagogue.  The
Athenian jurisprudence, therefore, rested on no fixed principles,
or solid basis.  It is almost equivalent to a total want of laws,
to have such only as the passions and caprices of a people can
mould or distort, or at pleasure so interpret, as to accommodate to
the most opposite purposes.
* " Happy Athens! that, after driving such a man from her bosom, could
yet find one virtuous or devoted citizen remaining."




Cii X.]                     ATHENS.                          107
I have thus endeavored very briefly to trace the outlines of
the Athenian Constitution.  The distinct powers of every branch
of that constitution, and the precise extent of jurisdiction, the
rights and privileges of the several courts, have occupied many
volumes, and supplied an immense field of learned but unimportant
controversy, which furnishes at least a proof of the difficulty of
obtaining distinct notions of the particular features of this constitution, though its general nature appears sufficiently intelligiblle.
Those who wish to go more into detail ought to peruse with attention the fragment of Aristotle concerning the Athenian Constitution,
the 2d, 4th, and 6th books of his Politics, the tract of Xenophon
on the Athenian Republic, the Life of Solon by Plutarch, the.lrchceologia of Archbishop Potter, and, to sum up all, the various
information concerning the Athenian state, contained in the Thesauru3 Grceccrum.lntiquitatum of Gronovius.
The manners of the Athenians formed a most striking contrast
to those of the Lacedaemonians.  It is, in fact, hardly possible to
find a greater dissimilarity even in nations inhabiting the most
opposite extremes of the earth.  The Athenian found, either in
hlis relish for serious business, or in his taste for pleasure, a constant occupation.*   The arts at Athens met with the highest
encouragement.   The luxury of the rich perpetually  employed
the industry of the poor; and the sciences were cultivated with
the same ardor as the arts; for the connection of mental enjoyments with moderate gratification of sense is the refinement of
luxury.  But in the pleasures of the Athenians, unless, indeed, in
the most corrupted times of the commonwealth, decency was most
scrupulously observed.  We have seen th6se rigid restraints on
the conduct of magistrates.  An archon convicted of drunkenness
was, for the first offence, condemned to pay a heavy fine, and for
a second was punished with death.   This general decency of
character was much heightened by a certain urbanity of manners,
which eminently distinguished the Athenians above all the other
states of Greece.  There are some singular proofs of this character
recorded, even of their public measures.  Plutarch, in the life of
Dernosthenes, has mentioned two remarkable examples.  In the
war against Phlilip of Macedon, one of the couriers of that prince
was intercepted, and his despatches seized; they opened all the
letters which he carried, except those written by Philip's queen,
Olympia, to her husband.   These the  Athenians  transmitted
immediately to Philip, with the'seals unbroken.  In the same
war, Philip was suspected of having distributed bribes among the
Athenian orators.   Their houses were ordered  to be searched;
but with singular regard to decorum, they forbade to break into
* The best sources of information with regard to the general manners of the
Athenians, are the Comedies of Aristophanes, the Characters of ThLeophrastus
the Lives of Plutarch, and the Orations of Demosthenes.




103                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                   [BOOK L.
the house of Callicles, because he was then newly married.  Such
was certainly the natural character of the Athenians,-generous,
dcent, humiane, and polished; but the turbulence and inconstancy
inseparable firom a democratic constitution, often stained their
public measures with a character very opposite to the natural disposition of the people.  We have more flagrant instances of public
ingratitude in the single state of Athens, than are to be found
perhaps in all the other states and kingdoms of antiquity.*
The capital features of the two great republics of Greece,
Sparta and Athens, may be thus briefly delineated.  Sparta was
altogether a military establishment; every other art was prohibited
-industry among individuals was unknown, and domestic economy
uniecessary, for all was in common.  The Lacedernonians were
active  only when, at war.  -In  peace, their manner of life was
languid, uniform, indolent, and insipid.  Taught to consider war
as the  sole honorable  or manly  occupation, they contracted a
rigid and ferocious turn of mind, which distinguished them fiom  all
the other states of Greece.  Despising the arts themselves, they
despised all who cultivated them.  Their constitution was fittedto form  and to  maintain a small, a brave, and an  independent
state; blut had no tendency to produce a great, a polished, or a
conquering people.
At Atllhens, peace was the  natural state of the republic; and
the institutions of Solon tended to form Lis fellow citizens for the
enjoyment of civil happiness.  It was a punishable crime at Athens
to be idl?., and every citizen was compelled to industry, and to
the utmost exertion of his talents.  It was not enough that each
should choose himself a particular profession.  The court of Areopagus inquired  into and ascertained the extent of his funds, the
amount of his expenditure, and consequently the measure of his
industry and economy.  The sciences were in contempt at Sparta;
but dependent on the arts, and essential to the highest and most
* Plutarch records many anecdotes, which strongly mark the fickleness of
the character of the Athenians. The following may serve as an example:Themistocles intimated in public that he had formed a most important project,
but that the strictest secrecy was necessary to insure its success. The people
answered, " Let it be told to Aristides alone, and we shall be regulated by his
advice." Themistocles acquainted Aristides that the project was to burn the
fleet of the combined states, then at anchor in perfect security in the harbor
of Pegasus; a scheme which would give Athens the absolute command of
Greece. Aristides told the people that nothing could be more advantageous
than the project of Themistocles; but nothing at the same time more unjust.
The whole assembly with one voice cried out, " Let us have nothing tq do with
it." This was to feel and to decide with rectitude and propriety. But mark a
striking contrast to this honorable decision. A few years afterwards, it was
proposed to the Athenians, to violate an article of a treaty formed with the
allies of the republic. The people asked the advice of Aristides, who, in the
same spirit as before, told them, that the counsel was advantageous, but unjust.
The upright statesman had no longer the same influence; the perfidious sug
gestion was now unanimously approved of.




n. Xi.]               AtHEaRs  AND SPARTA.                   109
rational enjoyment of life, they were held at Athens in the greatest
honor and esteern.  Luxury was the characteristic of the Athenian, as frugality of the Spartan.  They were equally jealous of
their liberty; because liberty was equally necessary to each, for
the enjoyment of his favorite scheme of life.  In the best times
of both republics, their military character was nearly equal.  The
bravery of the Spartan sprang from a fostered hardihood, and constitutional ferocity; the courage of the Athenian was derived from
the principle of honor-.  The  character of the  individual at
Athens was humane, polite, equitable, and social; but fi'om  a
faulty constitution, the character of the public was fickle, inconstant.
frivolous', cruel, and ungrateful.
The revenue of the territory of Attica has admitted of various
estizmations by different authors.   The Athenians, at the cotnmencement of their first war with Lacedaemon, before proceeding
to vote the necessary supplies for the armament, made a general
estimate, as Polybius informs us, of their lands, their, houses, and
their whole property, which did not quite amount to 6000 talents;
t sutn equivalent to 1,162,5001. sterling.  Demosthenes, in one
of his orations toulching on this subject, makes the value of the
land of Attica amount nearly to that sum, exclusive of houses and
effects.  NMeursius extravagantly supposes this to mean the annual
value of the lands; a computation which wotild make the revenue of
Attica; a small territory of sixty miles in length, and thirty broad,
exceed the annual census of several of the European kingdoms.
In ancient Greece, gold and silver bore a much higher proportion
to other commodities than they do at present.  The same quantity
of these metals would, in those tiries, have purchased in Greece
nearly ten times as much of the necessaries of lite, or commanded
ten times as much labor, as at present in most of the countries of
Europe.  A strong presumption, therefore, arises, that even the
most moderate of those accounts of the census of Attica are much
exaggerated.
The  Spartan government had acquired solidity, while all the
rest of Greece was yet unsettled, and torn by domestic dissensions.
Had the Spartans then aspired at extending their dominion, they
might with great facility have subdued all Greece.  But the
ambition of extensive conquest was not agreeable to the spirit.of
their constitution.  Their passion for liberty prompted them rather
to assist others in maintaining or asserting their independence; and
this generous conduct inspired so high a respect for their equity
and moderation, that contending states not unfiequently chose
them the umpires of their differences.  Yet though this was their
general character, there are sonme instances'of their departure,
even in those early times, from this generosity of conduct.  Their
behavior to the Messenians, a neighboring people who solicited
their aid in war, was extremely dishonorable.   They took advantage of their weakness, to reduce this'unfortunate people to




110                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK 1
the condition of slaves, as they had before done by the Helots.
It was contrary to their laws to communicate to strangers the
rights of citizenship; and we have before remarked, that when
the number of their slaves increasing gave rocm to apprehend
danger to the state, it was customary to reduce them by a general
massacre.
While the power of Sparta was thus high anlong the states of
Peloponnesus, Athens, a prey to faction and civil discord, was for
a while threatened with the entire loss of that liberty which she
had scarcely begun to enjoy.  Pisistratus, a relation of Solon, a
man of splendid talents, highly popular from his wealth and liber.
ality, began secretly to aspire at the sovereign power.  He propagated a report, that his enemies, jealous of his asserting the rights
of the people, had endeavored to assassinate him; and on that
pretence demanded a guard for the protection of his person, which
he employed in seizing the citadel.   The Athenians submitted
without mnuoh opposition.  Solon, indignant at the unworthy conduct of his kinsman, attempted to revive the patriotic spirit of his
countrymen, and urge the recovery of. their freedom; but he met
with no support; and the aged lawgiver, unable to brook the degradation of his country, bade adieu to Athens, and died in voluntary exile.
A considerable party of the citizens, however, were secretly
hostile to the usurpation  of Pisistratus.   The faction of the
Alcmaeonidaw, of whom  the chiefs were Megacles and Lycurgus,
gained at length so much strength as to attack and expel the
usurper fromn the city.  The stratagem  by which he regained his
power is a singular instance of the force of superstition. He procured a beautitful female to personate the goddess Minerva.  Seated
on a lofty chariot, she drove into the city, while her attendants
proclaimed aloud that their tutelary deity had deigned in person to
visit them, and to demand the restoration of her favorite Pisistratus. A general acclamation hailed the auspicious presence, and
all paid obedience to the heavenly summons.   Pisistratus thus
restored was a second time expelled by the faction of the Alenme..
onida, and remained for eleven years in exile.  But the talents
and the virtues of this extraordinary man, for such he really possessed, had gained him  many fiiends; and with their aid lie finally
triumphed over all his enemies.  His return to Athens was marked
by a proclamation of general pardon to all who had opposed him,
and chose quietly to return to their allegiance; and he regained
at once, and continued during the remainder of his life to possess,
tile favor and affection of the people; leaving at his death a
peaceable crown to his sons Hippias and Hipparchus.
Pisistratus was a man of elegant talents, and a zealous encourager of literature.  He patronized Simonides and other contemporary poets; and he conferred a memorable service on his.
country and on the world, by collecting and publishing the hitherto
scattered fragments of the noems of ITomer.




cu. x.3                      ATHENS.                         111
Pisistratus, much to his honor, had made no alteration on the
forms of the republic as established by Solon; and his sons, who
inherited their father's spirit and dispositions, trod in his footsteps.
Thucydides informs us, that the only mark of their ascendency in the
state was the appointment of their friends and partisans to the chief
offices of the republic.  Plato has celebrated the character of
Hipparchus as one of the most perfect to be found in history.  His
principal aim seems to have been to polish and improve his countrymen, by encouraging and cultivating the liberal arts and fostering the literary spirit; while his brother Hippias bent his attention
to the finances of the republic, the enlargement and embellishment
of the city, and the regulation of its military strength.  The circumstances which put an end to their government are variously
related by historians; but they agree in this fact, that it was private revenge, and no motive of state policy or patriotism, that
incited Harmodius and Aristogiton to conspire their death.  The
common story is, that Hipparchus having debauched the sister of
Harmodius, and afterwards affronted her while she walked in a
public procession, her brother, in revenge for this atrocious injury,
with the aid of his friend Aristogiton, conspired and effected the
death of the aggressor.  At the celebration of the feast of Minerva,
Harnlodius at acked and killed Hipparchus, but was himself massacred in the attempt.  The character and temper of Hippias,
hitherto mild and amiable, uniderwent a change from the period of
his brother's fate.  Fear and suspicion made him  assume a severity of conduct contrary to his nature; and an extreme rigor in
the punishment of all whom he dreaded or suspected, soon rendered his government as odious as it had once been popular.
The faction of the Alemaeonidwe, who had once succeeded in
dethroning Pisistratus, had, upon his restoration, been expelled
and banished  Attica.  They  now  plotted  the dethronement of
Hippias, and found the temper of the Athenians favorable to their
wishes. The oracle of Delphos was bribed, in order to procure
thern the aid of the Lacedemonians.  The Pythia continually
prophesied, that Sparta would fail in all her enterprises, till she
merited the favor of the gods, by delivering Athens from the
tyranny  of the  Pisistratidae.  The  Lacedamonians accordingly
declared war, and invaded Attica, headed by their king Cleomenes.
Athens surrendered to a superior force, and Hippias, driven into
banishment, retired to Sigeum, on the Hellespont.  The freedom
of the city, thus ingloriously restored, was celebrated with high
festivity, and statues were erected to the honor of Harmodius
and Aristogiton, as the authors of their country's deliverance
fromn tyranny.
But the popular government was scarcely thus re-established,
wher it sustained a new  assault from  Cleisthenes, one of the
Alcmaonida, who, on the ascendency of the prevailing faction,




I 1e                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 [BOOK &l
had sought to act a similar part wih Pisistratus and his sons.
1He found, however, a p3werful rival in Isagoras, who chieisled
the same ambitious views; and who, with the aid of Cleoinenes
and the Spartans, expelled  Clisthenes and drove with hiim  into
banishment no less than seven hundred of the principal Athenian
families.  The selfish schemes of Isagoras were first manifested
in an attempt to abolish the senate, or to change all its members
and abridge their number. A proceeding thus violent and impolitic roused the people at once.  They drove Cleomenes and
his Spartans, together with Isago as, out of Athens, and recalled
Clisthenes with the whole of the exiled families.
T'ie Lacedaenonians, indignant at this disgrace of their king
and countrymen, were now  wholly bent on revenge., A  principal
means appeared to be the re-establishment of Hippias, and for
that putrpote, the other states of Greece, and particularly Corinth,
were urged to join in the enterprise.  But Corinth loved her own
liberty, and respected that of others.  She refiised to accede to
the alliance; and the rest of the states followed her example.
Hippias, disappointed of that aid he expected from the jealousy
entertained by the petty states of the predominance of Athens,
now  looked towards  a foreign  alliance.  Darius, the son of.
Hystaspes, under whom  the Persian empire was splendid and
flourishing, meditated, at this juncture, the conquest of Greece.
Hippias disgracefully availed himself of the views of an enemy
against the general liberty of his country, and courted the assistance of Artaphernes, the Persian governor of Sardes, to re-establish himn on the throne of Athens   Artaphernes eagerly embraced
a proposal, which promised effectually to second tile views of his
sovereign; and Greece now saw herself inevitably involved in a
war with Persia.
The subject of the war wi'h Persia naturally induces a retro
spective view of the origin of this monarchy; its ancient history
arnd the government, policy, and manners of this great empire
field of inquiry on which we shall enter in the following chapte




CHAPTER XI.
ORmTIN )F THE PERSIAN MONARCHY-End of the first Assyrian Empire-Era
of Nabonasbar- Monarchy of the Medes; Dejoces, Phraortes, Cyaxares,
Nabpolassar- Nabuchodonozor II.-Captivity of the Jews-Cyrus the elder
-Ca:ribyse s-Darius, son of Hystaspes-Conquest of Babylon-His War
against the Scythians —His conquest of India-Government, Customs, and
Manners of the Persians-Education of their Princes-General Education
of' the Persian Youth-National Character of' th6 Persians-Military Character-Government-Administration  of Justice-Religion of the Ancient
Persians-Zoroaster; Uncertainty of his History-The Second ZoroasterTranslation of the Zendavesta by Anquetil-C6smogony of the Zendavesta
-Manicheismn —-Practical and Moral parts of the Persian Religion —The
Sadder-Change in the Manners of the Persians-State of Greece at the
time of the Persian War.
HAVING pursued, in some of the preceding chapters, the general
outlines of the history of Greece, from the time when the leading
republics of Sparta and Athens had assumed a fixed and regular
constitution, to the commencement of the Persian war, I now propose, in conformity with the plan laid down in the beginning of
this work, to look back to the origin of the Persian monarchy, to
delineate very briefly the early periods of its history, and to exhibit a general view of the government, genius, policy, and manners of this ancient people. Such a retrospect will serve to throw
light upon their subsequent history, and familiarize us to their
acquaintance when, under Darius, the son of Hystaspes, Xerxes,
Artaxerxes, Darius Ochus, and Codomanus, we see the force
of that splendid empire opposed to the valor and intrepidity of
Greece.
It will be recollected that the first empire of the Assyrians ended
under Sardanapalus, when Arbaces, governor of the Medes, and
Belesis, governor of Babylon, shook off the yoke of that effeminate prince.  Three monarchies arose from the ruins of that empire-that of Nineveh, or the second Assyrian empire, that of
Babylon, and that of the Medes.
To Belesis succeeded Nabonassar, whose accession to the throne
is the beginning of an astronomical era, called the Era of Nabonassar.  It is. fixed 747 years before Jesus Christ, at which time
the Chaldaean astronomical observations began, which have been
handed down to fis by Ptolemy the geographer.  The history of
the kings of Babylon succeeding Nabonassar is entirely unknown.
That of the monarchs of Nineveh  is very little better known,
unless by the ravages they committed in Palestine. We read in
VOL. 1.             15




'114                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               LBOOK 1b
Scripture of the conquests of Tiglath-pilezer, whom the impious
Achaz, king of Judah, had called to his aid against the Israelites;
of the conquests of his son Salmanazar, who carried Hosea and
the ten tribes of Israel into captivity; of those of Sennacherib,
the son of Salmanazar, who was assassinated by his two elder
sons, and succeeded by his third, Esarhaddon.  With these general facts we are acquainted from the Holy Scriptures,* and we
know  that, under this last reign, the kingdom  of Babylon was
united to that of Nineveh, or the second empire of Assyria.
The monarchy of the Medes, the third of those which sprang
from the ruins of the first Assyrian empire, appears to have begun
later than the other two; for Dejoces, its first sovereign, mounted
the throne the same year with Esarhaddon.  The history of this
Dejoces is extremely uncertain.  He is reported to have built the
city of Ecbatan, and to have bestowed much pains in polishing
and civilizing his people: yet those laws which he is said to have
enacted breathed strongly the spirit of despotism.  It was conlmon to the Asiatic monarchs very rarely to show themselves to
their subjects.  Dejoces is said to have carried the haughtiness of
his deportment to an unusual height.  It was death only to smile
in his presence.  We should be inclined to doubt many of those
facts which are recorded of the capricious tyranny of some of the
eastern monarchs, were they not transmitted to us by the gravest
and most authentic of the ancient writers.
Dejoces left the crown of Media to his son Phraortes, who
conquered the Persians, and subdued a great part of Asia; but
was vanquished at length by Nabuchodonozor I., king of Assyria,
made prisoner, and put to death.  Cyaxares, the son and successor
of Phraortes, in alliance with Nabopolassar, king of Babylon,
besieged Nineveh, destroyed that splendid capital, and decided
the monarchy between them.
The son of Nabopolassar was Nabuchodonozor II., a prince
remarkable in those times for his extensive conquests.  Necao (or
Pharaoh Necho) king of Egypt, had wrested from  the Assyrian
monarchy the provinces of Syria and Palestine. They were
recovered by Nabuchodonozor and Cyaxares, who, with a vast
army of 10,000 chariots, 180,000 foot, and 120,000 horse, invaded and laid waste the country, besieged Jerusalem, and took its
king, Jehoiakim, prisoner.  Tyre was likewise taken after a siege
of ten months.  The allied princes divided their conquests; but
we are ignorant of the precise shares of each sovereign.  To
Nabuchodonozor, or, as in Scripture he is named, Nebuchadnezzar,
we must assign the dominion of Jerusalem, as it is to him that the
seventy years' captivity of the Jews, predicted by Jeremiah, is
* See the Books of Kings, Chronicles, Hosea; likewise Josephus' Hist. and
Prideaux Connex.




Ci. xI.]                TIHE PERSIANS.                      115
attributed by the inspired writers.  Among the Jewish captives
carried by Nebuchadnezzar to Babylon was the prophet Daniel,
then a youth named Belteshazzar, who attained high favor with
the Assyrian monarch, and was made by him ruler of the province
of Babylon.  From Judaea, Nebuchadnezzar pushed his conquests
into Egypt, and, dethroning Pharaoh Necho, gave the government
of the country to Amazis.  The chronology of these events is
extremely confiused, and it were a vain and fruitless labor to
attempt to fix with precision their orders and series.  Nebuchadnezzar II. died after a reign of forty-three years, leaving a monarchy
more vast than powerful-an object which offered an easy conquest
to the Persians, when Cyrus, their king, raised the Persian empire,
hitherto a petty and barbarous dominion, to a height superior to
that of all the contemporary nations of the earth.
The  name of Cyrus is extremely illustrious among ancient
writers; yet nothing can be more uncertain than his history.
Herodotus, Ctesias, and Xenophon, the latest of whom was not
above two centuries posterior to the supposed age of Cyrus, have
given accounts of him so extremely contradictory, that it is quite
impossible to reconcile them.  The Cyrus of Ctesias and Herodotus obtains possession of the empire of the Medes by dethroning
his grandfather Astyages, and, like most extensive conquerors, is
the terror and scourge of the human race.  The Cyrus of Xenophon fights solely in defence of his uncle Cyaxares, the son of
Astyages, and is in every respect the model of a great and virtuous prince.  The Cyrus of Herodotus is killed, fighting against
Tomnyris, the queen of the Massagetwe, who plunges his head into
a basin of blood, in revenge of her son, whom Cyrus had put to
death.  The Cyrus of Ctesias is killed by a wound he received
in Hyrcania; and the Cyrus of Xenophon, after a glorious reign
of thirty years, dies a natural death.  Uncerpin as are the particulars of the history of the elder Cyrus, it is generally agreed that
his conquests were extensive; that he vanquished the Babylonians; defeated their ally, Crmsus, the kihg of Lydia, the most
powerfiul of the contemporary sovereigns; subjected a great part
of the lower Asia, and made himself master of Syria and Arabia.
The policy of such conquerors, who found it impossible to preserve
their conquests, was to ruin the countries which they gained by
their arms.  Devastation was held to be the natural right of war.
Those princes had no plan in their military enterprises-chance
directed their course.  Nebuchadnezzar II., whom we have seen
the conqueror of Judtea and Egypt, is said to have cast lots to
determine to- which point of the compass he should direct his progress: the lot fell towards Jerusalem; he marched on accordingly,
and subdued it.
Cambyses, the son and successor of Cyrus, had neither the
talents of his father, nor his virtues.  He planned a military expedition into Egypt, which was signalized only by folly and extrava



116                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             {[BOOK I
gance.  His vast army speedily overpowered this feeble people9
who have been successively subdued by every nation that attacked
them; but the conqueror after all reaped nothing but dishonor;
for his conduct was such as to bear every mark of insanity.  In
an inconsiderate expedition against the }Ethiopians, he threw away
the greater part of his army: - 50,000 men, sent into the deserts
of Ammon, perished through fatigue and famine.  With a deliberate purpose of wantonly exasperating the Egyptians, who were
disposed to the most peaceable submission, Cambyses ordered the
magnificent temple of Thebes to be pillaged and burnt.  At the
celebration of the festival of Apis, at Memphis, he stabbed the
sacred ox with his poniard, ordered the priests to be scourged, and
massacred all the people who assisted at the sacrifice.  He put to
death his brother Sinerdis, because he dreamed that he saw him
seated on the throne; and when his wife and sister, Meroe,
lamented the fate of her brother, he killed her with a stroke of
his foot.  To prove his dexterity in archery, he pierced the son
of his favorite Prexaspes through the heart with an arrow.
This madman was on his return to his dominions of Persia,
when he learned that the order of the magi had effected a dangerous revolution; and that, by their aid,' one of their own number
had assumed the character of his brother Smerdis, and had been
elected king in his absence.  He hastened to punish this usurpation, but died on his way, from a wound of his poniard, which
struck him  in the groin while mounting his horse.  The false
Smerdis did not long enjoy his dignity. Two grandees of the
court, Darius the son of Hystaspes, and Otanes, conspired to dethrone him, and the usurper was strangled in the imperial palace.
Darius had influence enough to obtain the vacant throne of Persia;
though we cannot easily rely on the authority of Herodotus, that
he owed his election to the neighing of his horse.
Darius the son of Ilystaspes was a prince of talents and ambition: he was the first of the Persian mnonarchs who" imposed a
regular tax upon the conquered provinces of the empire, which
till then had only given occasional gratuities to the sovereign.  He
chose, however, to conciliate the great body of his subjects to the
new government, by exempting the Persians from those burdens.
The Babylonians were the first of the provinces which endeavored
to shake off the yoke of servitude; but their attempt cost them
extremely dear.  Darius encircled Babylon with his army so as to
cut off, all supplies from  the adjacent country.  The inhabitants
exerted a savage resolution.  All who were useless for the defence
of the city, and served only to consume its provisions,-the
women, the old men, and the children,-were strangled by a
public decree; each head of a family being allowed to preserve
one of his wives and a maid servant.  At length, after a siege of
twenty months, Darius won the city by a treacherous stratagem.
One of his captains, mutilating his visage with hideous wounds,




Cs. XI.]                 THE PERSIANS.                        117
fled, as if for safety, to the Babylonians, and offered his services to
avenge himself against Darius, who had used him  thus inhumanly.
The man was trusted by the credulous Babylonians with a high
command, of which he availed himself to open the gates to the
Persians.  With aggravated meanness and cruelty Darius impaled
alive three thousand of the principal citizens.
Ambitious of extensive conquest, he now meditated a war against
the Scythians, on the absurd pretext that they had ravaged a part of
Asia about 130 years before. At the head of an army of 700,000
men, he set out from Susa, his capital, to wage war against a nation
whom  it was impossible to conquer.  Detached and wandering
tribes, who have scarcely attained an idea of fixed possessions,
migrate with ease and celerity from one extremity of a country to
the other, and are not to be subdued: while, in the mean time, the
invading army, even though unopposed, is consumed of itself by
famine and fatigue.  The sole business of the Scythians was to
retreat, driving their cattle before them, and filling up the wells
in their route.  The Persians, after long and excessive marches,
never got more than a distant sight of the enemy, while they were
perishing by thousands in a rugged and barren country.  At length
Darius thought it his wisest measure to retreat, having lost the
greatest part of his army, and leaving behind him the sick and aged
at the mercy of the barbarians.
rThe character of this prince was daring, active, and enterprising.
The disastrous event of the Scythian war served only to stimulate
him  to greater and more glorious attempts.  He now projected
tlhe conquest of India.  The particulars of that enterprise are not
preserved in history; but we know that it was successfully accomplished.  India was made the twentieth province of the Persian
empire.  In the course of this war, Darius equipped a fleet upon
the Indus, under the command of Scylax, a Greek of Caria, with
orders to sail down the river and explore the countries on either
side till he arrived at the ocean.  Scylax obeyed his instructions,
and performed, in the course of his voyage, a navigation perhaps
the longest that at this time had been attempted by any nation
From the mouth of the Indus, he sailed through the lMare Eryp
thrweum,* coasting, as we must presume, by the mouth of the
Persian Gulf; and entering the Red Sea by the Sinus Avalates,
now the Straits of Babelmandel, he disembarked in Egypt after a
voyage of above 1100 leagues.
The outlines of the Persian monarchy thus shortly traced till
* The.Mare Erythreeum is not to be confounded with the Red Sea. The latter
is the Sinus.Jrabicus; the former is that part of the Indian Ocean which extends
between the Straits of Babelmandel and the continent of India. It is said to hlave
been so named from a king called Erythras.




118                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK I
the period of the war with Greece —the government, laws, manners,
and customs of this great Asiatic empire demand our attention, as
an interesting and curiozs subject of inquiry.
The Governmnent of Persia, from the earliest accounts we have
of that nation, was an hereditary monarchy. Their princes were
absolute in the most unlimited sense of the expression.  Their
persons were revered as sacred, and they were never approached
by their subjects without the gestures of adoration.  Their word,
their look conferred life or death; and the displeasure of The
Great King was equally dreaded with the wrath of the divinity.
In the latter and splendid periods of their dominion, the pomp and
magnificence of these monarchs, with their necessary concomitants,
voluptuousness and debauchery, have been amply described by
ancient authors.  The revenues of whole provinces, according to
Herodotus, were bestowed on the attire of their favorite concubines; and the provinces themselves took from that circumstance
their popular appellations.  Plato, in his Alcibiades, mentions a
Greek ambassador who travelled a whole day through a country
called the Queen's Girdle, and another in crossing a province
which went by the name of the Queen's Head Dress.  The regal
throne was of pure gold, overshadowed by a palm-tree and vine of
the same metal, with clusters of fruit composed of precious stones.
Yet amidst this wantonness of Asiatic magnificence, the care
which those princes bestowed on the education of their children
merited the highest praise. They were, almost as soon as born,
removed from the palace, and committed to the charge of eunuchs
of approved fidelity and discretion.  At seven years of age they
learned the exercise of riding, and went daily to the chase, to
inure them betimes' to fatigue and intrepidity.  At the age of fourteen they were put under the care of' four preceptors eminently
distinguished by their wisdom and abilities.  The first opened to
them the doctrines of the magi; the second impressed them  with
a veneration for truth; the third exercised them in the habits of
fortitude and magnanimity; and the fourth inculcated the most
difficult of all lessons, especially to the great, the perfect command
and government of their passions.
It is to be observed, that the Persians in general, above every
other nation, were noted for their extreme attention to the education of youth.  Before the age of five, the children were exclusively under the tuition of the mother and assistant females.  After
that age, they were committed to the charge of the ma6gi, an
order of mnen whose proper function was that of priests or ministers
of the national religion, but who spent their lives in the pursuit
of wisdom, and the practice of the strictest morality.  By their
precepts and their example, the Persian youth were early trained
to virtue and good morals.  They were taught the most sacred
regard to truth, the highest veneration for their parents  and
superiors, the most perfect submission to the laws of their court




CH. Xi.3               THE PERSIANS.                      119
try, and respect for its magistrates.  Nor was the culture of the
body neglected.  The youth were trained to every manly exercise; a preparative to their admission into the body of the king's
guards, in which they were enrolled at the age of seventeen.
The general system of education among the Persians is thus laconically described by Herodotus.  " From the age of five to that
of twenty, they teach their children three things alone-to manage a horse,; to use the bow with dexterity; and to speak truth."
From these accounts of ancient authors, we might be led to conclude, that a system of education thus public, left very little to be
donle on the part of the parents; yet we find in the Zendavesta
this admirable precept to fathers:' If you desire to enjoy paradise, instruct your children in wisdom and virtue; since all their
good deeds will be imputed to you."
The luxury of the Persians, which has become proverbial, must
not mislead us in our ideas of their character in the early ages of
that monarchy.  In reality, before the time of Cyrus, the Persians were a rude and barbarous people, inhabiting a poor and narrow country of rocks and deserts.  We have the concurring testimony of all the ancient authors who have written concerning
them, that they were, in those early periods, a people remarkable
for their temperance, and the virtuous simplicity of their manners.
Herodotus records an excellent speech of one Sandanis, a Lydian,
who, when his sovereign Croesus projected the invasion of Persia,
thus strongly pointed out to him  the folly of his enterprise:
" What will you gain," said he, "'by waging war with such men
as the Persians?  Their clothing is skins, their food wild fruits, and
their drink water.  If you are conquered, you lose a cultivated
country; if you conquer them, what can you take from them?-a
barren region.  For my part, I thank the gods, that the Persians
have not yet formed the design of invading the Lydians."
The use of gold and silver for money was unknown to the
Persians till the reign of Darius, the son of Cyaxares, or, as he is
called in Scripture, Darius the l~ede.  The reign of this prince
was, indeed, the era of their change of manners.  The Medes,
conquered -by the Persians, became the models of their manners,
as we shall see did the Greeks to the Romrans.  The ancient Persians were a warlike and a hardy race of men. They were
all trained to the use of arms; and in time of war, every male,
unless disabled by age or bodily infirmity, was obliged, on pain of
death, to attend the monarch in the field.  Hence those immense
armies whose numbers almost exceed belief, and which were, of
necessity, disorderly and unmanageable, as they never could act
with the uniform operation of a well-organized body. While on
service they wore complete armor, composed of loose plates of
metal, fashioned in the form of the scales of fishes, which covered
the whole body, arms, legs, thighs and feet.  Their weapons were
a bow of uncommon length, a quiver of arrows, a short sword,




120                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOoE I
called acinacis, and a shield made of wicker.  Their horses were
covered with the same scaly armor; and they employed war-char-9
lots with scythes fixed at the extremity of the axles.  Thdy received no other pay than a share of the conquered spoil.  In their
military expeditions, the wives and children, with a large retinue
of male and female slaves, followed the camp; an usage which
we are apt to attribute to luxury and effeminacy, when we ought
rather, perhaps, to account it a remnant of barbarous manners.
in fight, the ancient Persians displayed great personal courage.
They esteemed it dishonorable to employ any stratagems in war;
and never fought in the night, unless when attacked by the eneiny.'We find in the government of the.ancient Persians, though
extremely despotical, some particular institutions of uncommon
excellency.  The kingdom  was divided into districts or separate
provinces, over each of which presided a governor or satrcap, who
received his instructions immediately from the prince, and was
obliged, at stated times, to give an account of his administration.
To facilitate this intercourse between tile provinces and the capital, the establishment of regular couriers or posts, a piece of pol.icy of no ancient date in the kingdoms of Europe, was known in
Persia at the time of Cyrus.  The sovereign likewise appointed
his commissioners to perform  periodical circuits through the empire, and report to him every particular relative to the government
of the satraps; and he frequently visited in person even the most
distant provinces.
The encouragement of agricnlture, the spring of population,
and therefore one of the most important objects of attention in all
governments where there is an extent of territory, was peculiarly
the care  of the monarchs of Persia.  To  cultivate the earth
was one of the precepts of their sacred books; and the industry
of the people, thus recommended by the sanction of a religious
duty, was encouraged by the sovereign with suitable rewards, and
remissness punished by a proportional increase of taxes.  We are
informed that, on one particular day in the year, the king partook
in person of the feast of the husbandmen.
There were, under the Persian government, some regulations
regarding the administration of justice, which are highly deserving
of encomium.  The rigor of penal laws often defeats its own
purpose, for if the punishment exceeds its just measure, and the
criminal becomes- an object of piti, the influence of punishment as
an example is in a great measure defeated; and offences, instead
of being strictly coerced, will often be screened from the too severe vengeance of the law.  In Persia, a first offence. was never
capitally  punished.  That vengeance was reserved  only  for
the hardened and incorrigible criminal.  In all cases the accused
person was brought face to face with his accuser, who, if he failed
to make good his charge, was himself condemned to the punishment which the accused must have undergone had the crime been




CH. XI.]                THE PERSIANS.                       121
proved against him.  The sovereign, in certain causes of importance, sat himself in judgment; though in the ordinary administration of justice, there were a certain number of judges chosen, on
account of their acknowledged wisdom and probity, who made
regular circuits through the provinces, and attended the sovereign
in his stated visitations of his dominions. These held their offices
for life;- but were removable in cases of malversation.  The story
is well known of the judge, who, being guilty of corruption in his
high function, was by Cambyses condemned to be flayed alive,
and his skin hung over the seat of judgment.
There are few topics of antiquarian research which have been
explored with more anxiety of investigation than the religion of
the ancient Persians.  The mind is naturally stimulated to inlquire
into a system  of theology, which is not less remarkable for the
purity of its moral precepts than for its extreme antiquity; as we
have undoubted evidence that the same doctrines and worship
which exist among a particular sect of the Persians at this day
were the religion of this ancient people some thousand years ago.
The founder of this ancient religion is generally supposed to
have been Zoroaster, as he is called by the Greeks, or Zerdusht, as
he is denominated by theEPersians; but the history of this personage is involved in much uncertainty.  By some authors he is said
to have lived before the time of Moses (A. c. 1571;) by others
to have been contemporary with Ninus and Semiramnis (A. c.
1216;) and by others again his era is placed as late as the accession of Darius, the son of -Hystaspes, to the throne of Persia (A. c.
522.)  These discordances have induced a suppQoition, that there
were two remarkable persons of the name of Zoroaster; and this,
which is the opinion of the elder Pliny, has been lately supported
with many probable reasons by the A.bbe Foucher.  According
to his notion, the elder. Zoroaster was regarded by the Persians as
the founder of their religion; while the younger of that name
was only a zealous reformer of that ancient worship from the many
superstitions with which, in course of time, it had become corrupted.  To the first Zoroaster is attributed the composition of the
Zendavesta, a collection of books which he pretended, like the
Ronan Numa, to have received from heaven.  These books he
presented to his sovereign Gustashp, the king of Bactriana; and
confirmed their authority, and his own divine mission, by performing, as is said, some very extraordinary miracles.  Gustashp became a convert, and abjured, along with the greater part of his
subjects, the, worship of the stars, represented by several idols,
which was then the prevalent religion of those countries, and was
termed Sabaism.  Gustaslihp became so zealous a proselyte to the
new faith, that he refused to pay an annual tribute to a prince of
Scythia, unless on the condition that he likewise should renounce
his idolatry; a request which the Scythian deemed so insolent,
that he invaded Bactriana with an immense army, sacked the city
VOL. I                  16




122                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                   [BOOK I.
of Balk, destroyed the Pyreum, or Fire-Temple, in which Zoroaster officiated, and put him' to death, together with eighty bf
the magi,* whose blood, as is reported, drowned out the sacred
fire.  But Gustashp had his revenge; for, collecting all his forces,
he attacked and routed the Scythians with immense slaughter, regained his kingdom, and re-establishing the Pyreum  of Zoroaster,
put his religion upon a settled foundation.
The second Zoroaster appears with less splendor.  He pretends to no other character than that of a zealous reformer, concerned for the ancient purity of his religion, which, in the course
of many ages from the time of its founder, had become considerably corrupted.  The whole order of the magi had, in the time of
Camnbyses, fallen into disrepute. We have seen how, from a very
dishonorable imposition in substituting one of their own number
for Stnerdis, the brother of Cambyses, wvhom that madman had
put to death, they had incurred the odium of the whole, nation.
This event is said to have thrown a stain upon the religion of the
Zendavesta, which was not wiped off till a reformation was operated by Darius, the son of Hystaspes.  This prince was zealously
attached to the ancient religion of Zoroaster; but knowing the
unpopularity of the race of magi then existing, he abolished them
entirely, and created a new order, at the head of which was the
second  Zerdusht or Zoroaster.  HI-e is believed to have been
originally a Jew, or at least a person educated in Judea; whence
he has grafted on the religion of the Persians a great deal of the
doctrines of the Old Testament, both regarding the' creation of
the world, and the precepts of religion.
The Zendavesta, therefore, in the form in which it now appears,
must be considered as a work of which the basis claims a most
remote antiquity; while even what addition or improvement it
received from the younger Zoroaster is of a date so ancient as 500
years before the birth of Christ.
This code of the ancient religion of the Persians, so remarkable
for its antiquity, was, till lately, unknown, unless from  some
abstracts of its doctrines made by a few learned men who were
* The mlagi among the Persians were a'class of men, who, like an established
order of priesthood, exercised all the public filnctions of religion, and passed
their time exclusively in those sacred duties, and in the cultivation of philosophy. Whether they were originally instituted by Zoroaster, as the priests of
his religion, or subsisted before his time, while Sabaism was the religion of the
Persians, is uncertain.  They were not elected from the body of the people,
but formed a distinct class or race of men,-the children of the magi succeeding to the function of their fathers; and being debarred fiom intermarryinD
with the people, these children are said to have been frequently the fruit or
incestuous intercourse. — Brtckeri Inst. Hist Phil. p. 49. They held a great
many mysterious and abstruse doctrines, which they communicated only to the
disciples of their own order; but made it likewise their employment to educate
the youth of superior rank, and particularly the princes of royal descent, and
to instruct them in morality and useful knowledge.




CH. XI.]                 THE PERSIANS.                       123
conversant in oriental literature.  But it has been lately translated
by a Frenchman, M. Anquetil de Perron, whose enthusiasm
prompted him to undertake a journey to Persia, in order to explore
every trace of that ancient religion.  This translation has not
contributed to raise the reputation of the Zendavesta.  We find'in it some excellent moral precepts, and a few sublime truths accidentally breaking out amidst a mass of absolute nonsense and
incoherent raving.  Those, however, who, with a strong prejuidice
in its favor, have endeavored to make a critical analysis of the
work, and to methodize its opinion and doctrines, pretend to find
in it not only a philosophical account of the origin of the world, but
the purest principles of religion and morality, together with a code
of laws for the regulation of civil society.
The cosmiogony of the Zendavesta, according to the account of
these expositors, supposes the first principle of all things to be
time without bounds, or eternity.  From  this first principle proceed (but in what manner is not explained) the first light, the
first water, and the original fire.  From this first principle likewise
sprung Ormusd and Ahriman, secondary principles, but active and
creative of all things; Ormusd, a being infinitely good, and Ahriman,
a being infinitely wicked.  The duration of this world is limited
to 12,000 years; a space of time which is equally divided between
Ormusd and Ahriman, who maintain a constant war for the sovereignty of created nature, and alternately prevail during the period
of the duration of the universe; but the contest is to be finally
terminated by the triumph of Ormusd over Ahriman; good'must
subdue evil.
In the meantime, for maintaining their warfare, Ormusd creates
an immense number of good genii, and his opponent an equal
number of evil ones.  Ormusd tlien proceeds to the creation of a
perfect world; but is continually thwarted in his purpose, and has
his works contaminated, by the malignant interference of his adversary.  Ormusd creates a bull, out of the body of which spring first
all the different kinds of plants, and then all the various species
of animals; man among the rest.  But in this formation of the
bull, Ahriman has likewise a joint operation; so that man, intended to be formed pure, uhicorrupted, and immortal, has within him
the seeds of impurity, corruption, and death.  Hie deviates, of
course, from the path of rectitude, and falls from his pristine innocence.  His first offence is the neglect to pay a proper veneration
to Ormusd under the symbol of water; a crime which entails sin
and mortality against all the descendants of the aggressor, and
gives a great triumph to Ahriman and his evil genii.
These contentions between the good and the evil principle are
supposed to endure till the accomplishment of Time.  Man becomes subject to death in consequence of his sins; but when the
period arrives, that the whole inhabitants of the earth shall be
converted to the religion of Zoroaster, then shall be the resurrec



124                      UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                  [BOOK I
tion of the dead with their earthly bodies and  souls.  The just
shall be separated firom  the unjust; the former to be translated to
Paradise, where they shall enjoy the highest pleasures, both of
soul and body; the latter to be purified for an appointed space in
ba'ning metals, and cleansed from  all their offences; after which,
all created beings shall enjoy the most perfect happiness for ever.
Ahriman and his evil genii shall undergo the same purification;
and after his limited punishment, even he shall partake of the joys
of eternity, repeat the Zehdavesta, and join with all beings in the
praises of Ormusd.
This doctrine of the two separate and eternal principles, a gooa
and an evil, has had its advocates among many other religious sects
besides the ancient Persians.  It seems to be a natural effort of
unenlightened reason to afford a solution of that great problem,
the origin of evil.  It was revived in  the third  century of the
Clhrstian era by a sect of heretics termed  Manichees,j whose
doctrine the skeptical Bayle has defended with much danigerous
sophistry.  But his arguments, and all others that are applicable
to this controversy, tend to nothing else than to convince us of
the imperfection of human reason, and the vain folly of man's
pretences to subject to his limited understanding the schemes of
Providence, oi reconcile in every instance those anomalies which
appear in the structure both of the physical and moral world.
Such is the system of cosmogony contained in these books of
the  Zendavesta, upon which the whole religion of the  ancient
Parsi was founded.  The practical part of this religion, consisted,
first, in acknowledging and adoring Ormusd, the principle of all
good, by a' strict observance of purity in thought, words, and
actions: secondly, in showing a proportional detestation of Ahriman, his productions, and his works. The most acceptable service
to Ormusd was observing the precepts of the Zendavesta, readilng
that work, and repeating its liturgies.  The chief among its forms
of prayer are addressed not directly to Ormusd, but through the
medium  of his greatest works, the sun, the  moon, and  stars.
* This sect arose about A. D. 277, and took its origin from one of the Persian
Magi, named Manes. He professed to believe in Christianity, and in the principal doctrines of the New Testament; rejecting altogether the Old Testament,
which he maintained was one of the delusions which had sprung from Ahriman,
or the evil principle, for the purpose of keeping mankind in darkness, ignorance
and vice. For that reason! it was, as he maintained, that in the course of the
contest which always subsists between the good and the evil principles —the
good principle, under the person of Mithras or Christ, had abrogated the Old
Testament, and revealed his perfect religion and worship in the New. Yet
though the Manichees professed to receive the New Testament, they adopted
in reality only what suited their own opinions.  They formed a peculiar
scheme of Christianity, which was mingled with many of the doctrines of the
Magi; and whatever parts of the New Testament they found to be inconsistent
with their scheme, they boldly affirmned to be corruptions and interpolations.
This sect of the Manichees subsisted for many centuries, and even some of the
earlier fathers of the Christian church were contaminated with its errors.




CI,. XI.]                THE PERSIANS.                      125
Mithras the sun, of all the productions of Ormusd, is supposed to'be the most powerful antagonist of Ahriman.  After these celestial
objects, the terrestrial elements have the next claim' to worship and
veneration.  Of these, the noblest is the fire, the symbol of the
sun, and of the original heat which pervades all nature.  The
fire was therefore reckoned the purest material symbol of the
divinity.  The other elemnents of air, earth, and water, had each
a subordinate respect paid to them; and it was an object of the most
zealous care'of the ancient Parsi, to keep them pure and uncorrupted.  But this worship of the fire and the other elements was
always inferior and subordinate to the adoration of Ormusd, witlh
whose praises.all their religious ceremonies began and ended.
But the object of these books of the Zendavesta was not only
to reveal the divinity, and the knowledge of his works, and that
peculiar worship which was most acceptable to him: they contained likewise a system  of moral duties, and of civil regullations.  These moral precepts and regulations are better known
from  the $adder, a compilation made about three centuries ago
by the modern Parsi, or Guebres, in which a great many of the
absurdities contained in the Zendavesta are rejected or ornitted.
From  the Sadder, according to the analysis of it by M. Foucher, it appears that the principle of the morality of the Parsi was
a sort of Epicurism.  The indulgence of the passions was recommended, in *so far as it is consistent with the Welfare of society;
and reprobated only when destructive or subversive of it.  There
is no merit annexed to abstinence or mortification; these extremes
are equally reprobated with intemperance and debauchery.  Adultery was held criminal, and so was celibacy or virginity.  Murder,
theft, violence, and injustice were crimes highly offensive to God, because destructive to the happiness of man.  To cultivate an untilled
field, to plant fruit-trees, to destroy noxious animals, to bring
water to a dry and barren land, were all actions beneficial to mankind, and therefore most agreeable to the divinity, who wills perpetually the highest happiness of his creatures.
In a word, this religion of Zoroaster, delivered in the books of
the'Zendavesta, and abridged in the Sadder, which is still the code
of belief and of worship among the Guebres, a sect of Ithe modern
Persians, appears to contain, along with avery erroneous system
of theology, and amidst a'mass of unfathomable incongruities and
absurdities, some very striking truths, and many precepts of morality and practical rules of conduct which would do honor to the
most enlightened Christians.
I have' thus endeavored to give some idea of the genius and
character of the ancient Persians, who were a people remarkable:or a temperance and simplicity of manners, very different from
lhe character they assumed after they had become a great and:onquering nation. No people was ever more prone to adopt




126                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY                [nooK I,
foreign customs or foreign manners.  They no sooner subdued the
Medes than they assumed their dress; after conquering Egypt,
they used'the Egyptian armor; and after becoming acquainted
with the Greeks, they imitated them, as Herodotus informs us, in
the worst of their vices.  But that they were originally a very
different people, all ancient authors bear concurring testimony.
At the time when they engaged in the war with Greece, their
national character had undergone an entire change.  They were
a people corrupted by luxury: their armies, immense in their
numbers, were a disorderly assemblage of all the tributary nations
they had subdued; Medes, Assyrians, Babylonians, Egyptians,
milngled with the native Persians; a discordant mass, of which the
component parts had no tie of affection which bound them to a
common interest.
Athens at this time had asserted her liberty by the expulsion of
the Pisistratidae, and was disposed to put a high value on her newly
purchased freedom.  The power and strength of the republic
were at this time very considerable.  Luxury had not yet spread
her contagion on the public manners; and the patriotic flame was
fervent in all ranks of the people.  Even the slaves, who, as we
before remarked, formed the chief mass of the population. of the
state, were an active and serviceable body of men; for being ever
treated with humanity by the free citizens, they felt an equal regard
for the common interest, and on every occasion of xWar armed
with the spirit of citizens for the defence of their country.  The
Lacedmrnonians had the same love of liberty, the same ardor of
patriotism, and were yet more accustomed to warfare than the
Athenians.  In the contest with Persia, the spirit of the Greeks
was raised to its utmost pitch; and it is in fact from this era that
the Greeks, as an united people, begin to occupy the chief place
in tne history of the nations of antiquity.




BOOK THE SECOND
CHAPTER I.
HISTORY OF GREECE, continued-Origin and cause of the WAR WITH I!RtIA
-Commencement of hostilities-Battle of Marathon-Miltiades -A1,stides
-Themistocles-Invas ion of Greece by Xerxes-Banishmnent of AristidesThermopyli —Salamis-Platna and Mycale-Disunion of the Greeks —Cimon
-Pericles —Decline of the patriotic spirit.
HAVING in the last chapter given a short retrospective view of the
origin of the Persian monarchy, and the outlines of its history
down to the period of the war with Greece-together with a brief
account of the government, manners, laws, and religion of the
ancient Persians;-we now proceed to carry on the detail of the
Grecian history, by shortly tracing the progress and issue of that
important war, which may be said to have owed its origin to the
ambition of Darius the son of Hystaspes, heightened by the passion
of revenge.  The Ionians, a people of the lesser Asia, originally a
Greek colony, had, with the other colonies of Eolia and Caria,
been subdued by Croesus, and annexed to his dominions of Lydia.
On the conquest of Lydia by Cyrus, these provinces of course
became a part of the great empire of Persia.  They were impatient, however, of this state of subjection, and eagerly sought to
regain their former freedom.  For this purpose, they sought the
aid of their ancient countrymen of Greece, applying first to Lacediemon, then considered as the predominant power; but, beirg
unsuccessful in that quarter, they made the same demand, with
better success, on Athens and the islands of the Egean Sea.
Athens and the islands equipped anid furnished the lonians with
twenty-five ships of war, which immediately began hostilities on
every city on the Asian coast that acknowledged the government
of Persia.  We remarked in a former chapter,@  that after the
expulsion of the Pisistratide  from  Athens, Hippias, the last of
* Book i. chap. x. infine.




128                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOiK II
that family, betook himself to the Lacedemonians, who, pleased
with the opportunity of harassing their rival state, had ineffectually
endeavored to form a league with the other nations of Greece
for replacing 3Eippias on the throne of Athens.  As this project
soon became abortive, Hippias had betaken himself for aid to
Artaphernes, the Persian governor of Lydia, then resident at
Sardis, its capital city... This satrap eagerly embraced a scheme
which coincided with the views of hilnmaster Darius, who, enraged
at the revolt of the Ionians, and the aid they had found from
Athens and the Greek islands, meditated nothing less than the
conquest of all Greece.  The lonians, with their Athenian allies,
ravaged and burnt the city of Sardis, destroying the magnificent
temple of Cybele, the tutelary goddess of the country; but the
Persians defeated them with great slaughter, and compelled the
Athenians hastily to re-embark their troops at Ephesus, glad to
make the best of their way to Greece.  This insult, however,
sunk deep into the mind of Darius, and from- that moment he
vowed the destruction of Greece.  That his resolution might
suffer no delay or abatement, he caused a crier to proclaim every
day when hle sat down to table, "' Great sovereign, remember the
Athenians.' Previously to the commencement of his expedition,
he sent, according to a national custom, two heralds into the country which he intended to invade, who, in their master's name,
demanded earth and water, the usual symbols of subjection.  The
insolence of this requisition provoked the Athenians and Spartans
into a violation of the law of civilized nations.  They granted the
request of the ambassadors by throwing one of them into a ditch,
and the other into a well.*
Many others, however, of the cities of Greece, and all the islands,.
intimidated by the great armament of Darius, to which they had
nothing effectual to oppose, sent the tokens of submission.  But
the Persian fleet of three hundred ships, commanded by Mardonius, being wrecked in doubling the promontory of Mount Athos,
(a peninsula which juts out into the 2Egean  from the southern
coast of Macedonia,) this disaster gave spirits to the inhabitants
of the islands, who now returned to their allegiance to the mother
country, and cheerfully exerted all their powers in a vigorous
opposition to the common enemy.
A new fleet of 600 sail was now equipped by Darius' which
began hostilities by an attack on the isle of Naxos.  Its principal
city, with its temples, was burnt to the ground, and the inhabitants
were sent in chains to Susa.'Many of the other islands underwent
the same fate; and an immense army was landed in Euboea,
which, after plundering and laying  waste the country, poured
* Herodot. 1. vii. c. 133.




EE. I.l              BATTLE OF MARATHON.                     129
down with imnpetuosity upon Attica.  It was conducted by Datis,
a IMNede, who, under the guidance of the traitor Hippias, led them
on towards IMarathon, a small village near the coast, and within ten
miles of the city of Athens.
The Athenians, in this critical juncture, armed to a man.  Even
the slaves of the republic'Were enrolled, and cheerfully gave their
services for the common defence of the country~  A hasty demand
of aid was rnmade upon the confederate states, but the suddenness
of the emnergency left no time for effectually answering it.  The
Platmans sent a thousand men, the whole strength of their small
city.  The Spartans delayed to march, from an absurd superstition
of beginning no enterprise till after the full moon.  The Athenians,
therefore, may be said to have stood alone to repel this torrent.
The amount of their whole army was only 10,000 men; the army
of the Persians consisted of 100,000 foot, and 10,000 horse-a
vast inequality.
The Athenians, with a very injudicious policy,l had given the
command of the army to ten chiefs, with equal authority.  The
mischiefs of this divided power were soon perceived.  IHappily,
amowng  these commanders was one man of superior powers of
mind, to whose abilities and conduct all the rest by common consent paid a becoming deference.   This was Miltiades.  The
Ath&lians for some time deliberated. whether it was their best
policy to shut themselves up in the city, and there sustain the
attack of the Persians, or to take the field.  The former measure
could only have been thought of in regard of their great inferiority
in numbers to the assailing foe.  But there is scarcely an inequality
of force that mav not be compensated by resolution and intrepidity.
By the counsel of Miltiades and Aristides, it was resolved to face
the enemy in the field.  Aristides, when it was his turn to command, yieldetl his authority to Miltiades; and the other chiefis,without scruple, followed hIis example.
Miltiades drew  up his little army at the foot of a hill, which
covered both the flanks, and frustrated all attempts to surround
lim.  They knew the alternative was victory or death, and that
all depended on a vigorous effort to be made in one moment; for a
lengthened conflict was sure destruction.  The Greeks, therefore,
laying aside ahl missile weapons, trusted every thing to the sword.
At. the word of command, instead of the usual discharge of javelins,
they rushed at once upon the enemy with the most desperate
impetuosity.  The disorder of the Persians, from this furious and
unexpected assault, was instantly perceived by Miltiades, and irnp,'oved to their destruction by a charge made by both the wings of
the Athenian army, in which with great judgment he had placed the
best of his troops.  The army of the Persians was broken in a
moment: their immense numbers increased their confusion, and the
whole were put to flight.  A great carnage ensued.  Six thousand
three hundred were left dead on the field of Marathon; and among
VOL. I.                 17




10S                   UNIyEPRSAL HISTORY.            [BOOK IX
these tile ignoble Hippias, whose criminal ambition would have
sacrificed and enslaved his country.  The Athenians, in this day
of glory, lost only a hundred and nipety men.  The Spartans
came the day after the battle, to witness the triumph of their
rival state.
The event of this remarkable engagement dissipated the terror
of the Persian name; and this first successfiul experiment of their
strength was a favorable omen to the Greeks of the final issue of
the contest.  With presumptuous confidence, the Persians had
brought marble from Asia to erect a triumphal monument on the
subjugation of their enemies.  The Athenians caused a statue of
Nemesis, the Goddess of Vengeance, to be formed out of this
marble, by the celebrated Phidias; and tablets to be erected, on
which were recorded the names of the heroes who had fallen in
the fight.  Among the Arundelian marbles at Oxford is a Psephis
ma, or decree, of the people of Athens, published on' occasion of
the battle of Marathon.  The Athenians likewise caused a large
painting to be executed by Panmeus, the brother of Phidias, in
which Miltiades was represented at the head of his fellow chiefs
haranguing the army. This was the first emotion of Athenian
gratitude to the man who had saved his country.  But merit, the
more it was eminent and illustrious, became the more formidable,
or, to use a juster phrase, the more the object of envy and detraction to this fickle people.  Miltiades, charged with the command
of reducing some of the revolted islands, executed his commission
with honor, with respect to most of them; but he was unsuccessful in an attack against the isle of Paros. He was dangerously
wounded; the enterprise miscarried; and he returned to Athens.
With the most shocking ingratitude he was capitally tried for
treason, on an accusation brought against him  by his political
antagonist Xanthippus, of his having taken Persian gold to betray
his country. Unable, from his wound, to appear in person, his
cause was ably pleaded in the Ecclesia -by his brother Tisagoras;
but all he could obtain was a commutation of the punishment of
death into a fine of fifty talents, (about 9,4001. sterling,) a sums
which being utterly unable to pay, he was thrown into prison,
where he died of his wounds.
The Persian monarch, meantime, had been only the more exas
perated by his bad success; and he now prepared to invade Greece
with all the power of Asia. It was the fortune of Athens, notwithstanding her ingratitude, still to nourish virtuous and patriotic citi
zens.  Such was Aristides, who, at this important period, had the
greatest influence in conducting the affairs of the replll)lic; a man of
singular abilities, whose extreme moderation, and a mIind superior
to all the allurements of selfish ambition, had deservedly fixed on
him the epithet of THE JUST.
Themistocles, who, in many respects, was of a very opposite
character from Aristides, was the jealous rival of his honors and




Cni I.]               r INVASION By XERXES.                  131
reputation.   Both of these eminent men sought the glory of their
country; the one from a disinterested spirit of virtuous patriotism,
the other from  the ambitious desire of unrivalled eminence in that
state which he labored successfully to aggrandize.  Themistocles
bent.bis whole attention, in this critical situation of his country, to
ward off the storm  which he saw threatened from  Persia.  Sensible that a powerful fleet was the first object of importance for the
defence of a country every where open to invasion from  the. sea,
hte procured the profits of the silver mines belonging to the republice to be employed in equipping an armament of a hundred long
galleys.*
I[n this interval happened the death of Darius: he was succeeded
by his son Xerxes, whom he had by Atossa, the daughter of Cyrus.
The heir of his father's ambition, but not of his abilities, Xerxes
adopted with impetuosity the project of the destruction of Greece,
and armed an innumerable multitude —as Herodotus says, above
five millions of men -for that expedition; a calculation utterly
incredible-butt which serves at least to mark a number, though
uncertain, yet altogether prodigious.  The error of this estimate
becomes palpable, when we attend to the number of ships by
which this force was to be transported.  These were twelve hundred ships of war, and three thousand transports.
The impatience of Xerxes could not brook the delay that would
have attended the transportation of this immense body of land forces
in his fleet across the ]Egean, which is a very dangerous navigation,
or even by the narrower sea of the Hellespont.  He ordered a
bridge of boats to be constructed between Sestos and Abydos, a
distance of seven furlongs (seven eighths of a mile.)  This structure was no sooner completed, than it was demolished by a tempest.
In revenge of this insult to his power, the directors of the work
were beheaded, and the outrageous element itself was punished, by
throwing into it a pair of iron fetters, and bestowing three hundred
lashes upon the water.  After this childish ceremony, a new bridge
was built, consisting of a double range of vessels fixed by strong
anchors, and joined to each other by immense cables.  On this
structure the main body of the army passed, in the space of seven
days and nights.  It was necessary that the fleet should attend the
motions of the army; and to avoid a disaster similar to that which
had happened to the armament under Mardoniuts, Xerxes ordered
the promontory of Athos to be cut through, by a canal of sufficient
breadth to allow two ships to sail abreast.  This fact, though confidently'asserted by Herodotus, Thucydides, and Diodorus, the first
actually contemporary with the event, has yet'so much the air ot
x The sagacious Themistocles did not disdain to avail himself of the superstitious spirit of his countrymen in aid of his wise precautions. The Delphic Oracle,
consulted on the fate of the country, answered that the Greeks would owe their
rafety to wooden walls




132                     UTINVERSAL HISTORY.                [BnOOr Iromance, that it has been classed among the fables of ancient history
~6..... creditor olim
Velificatus Athos, et quicquid Graecia mendax
Audet in historia: —"
and modern travellers who have surveyed the ground, assert that it
exhibits no vestiges of such an operation.
The object of Xerxes' expedition was professedly the chastisement of Athens, for the aid she had given to his revolted subjtects
of the lesser Asia; but the prodigious force which he set in motion
had, beyond doubt, the conquest of all Greece for its real purpose.
If Athens then took the principal part in this contest, and finally
prevailed in it, we cannot hesitate to assent to the opinion expressed
by Herodotus, that to this magnanimous republic all Greece was
indebted for her freedom and existence as a nation.
But Athens herself was at this very tiale the prey of domestic
faction, arid was divided  between the partisans o-f Thenmistocles
and Aristides.  The former could no longer bean the honors and
reputation of his rival.  By industriously dissemij ating reports to
his prejudice, and representing that very moder-tion  which was
the shining feature of his charlacter, as a mere devcr,e to gain popularity, and the artful veil of the most dangerous, b.cause the most
disguised ambition, he so poisoned the mind of.thr people that they
insisted for the judgment of the ostracism; the c.insequence was,
that the virtuous Aristides was banished for teni years from  his
country.
Such was the situation of Athens while Xerxes hlad mustered his
prodigious host upon the plains of Thessaly.  Ti e greater part of
the states of Greece either stood aloof in this cri:is of the national
fate, or meanly sent to the Persian monarch the d&nanded symbols
of submission.  Even Lacedemon, though express ng a determined
resolution of defence against the common efiemv, sent no more,
effective force to join the Athenian army than thriee hundred men,
but these, as we shall see, were a band of heroes.  The Corinthi.
ans, Thespians, Platcans, and 2Eginetes contributfd each a small
contingent.
Xerxes now proceeded by rapid marches towards the pass of
Thermopylue,`- a very narrow defile upon the bay of Mahla v ai(ch
divides Thessaly from the territories of Phocis and Locris.  In a
council of war, held by the Greeks, it was thought of great i4 iportance to attempt at least to defend this pass; and a body of 6000
men being destined for that purpose, Leonidas, one.of the kings
of Sparta, of high reputation for his cool and deliberate courage,
* This defile was called Tlhermopylhe from the hot springs in its vicinity. It is
bounded on the west by high precipices which join the lofty ridge of Mount Oeta,
and on the east is terminated by an impracticable morass extending to the sea
Near the plain of the Thessalian city, Trachis, the passage was fifty feet in
breadth, but at Alpene, the narrower part of the defile, there was not roorm for
one chariot to pass another.




Ee. I.]            BATTLE OF THERmMOPYLE.                     133
was appointed to command thbem  on this desperate service.  He
was p)erfetctly aware that his, fate was inevitable, and there are
some facts which evince that he and his followers had resolutely
determined to devote themselves for their coun try.  An oracle
had declared that either Sparta or her king must peyish.  Plutarch
rehtes that, before leaving Lacedmmon, this chosen band of patriots, with their king  at their head, celebrated their own funeral
games in the sight of their wives and mothers.  WVhen the wife
of Leonidas bade adieu, and asked  his last commands; "iMy
desire," said he, 6' is, that you should marry some brave man and
bring Ilim  brave children."  On thermorning of the engagemnent,
when Leonidas, exhorting his troops to take some refreshment,
said that they should all sup with Pluto, with one accord they set
1') a shout of joy, as if they had been invited to a banquet.  iHe
took his post in the defile with admirable skill, and dretv up his
little army to the best advantage possible.  After some fruitless
attempts on the part of the Persians to corrupt the virtue of this
noble Spartan, Xerxes imtperiously summoned him  to lay down
his arms.  "G Let him  come," said Leonidas, "c and take them."
Twenty thousand Miedes were ordered to force the defile, but
were repulsed with dreadful slaughter by the brave Lacedemonians.  A chosen body of the Persians, dignified with the vain
epithet of the immortals, mnet with the same fate.  For two whole
days, successive bands of the Persians were cut to pieces in making
tile same attempt.  At length, by the treachery of some of the
Thessalians who had sold their services to Xerxes, a secret and
unfrequented track was pointed out to the Persians, through which
a pass might be gained by the army over the mountainous ridge
which overhangs the defile; and through this path a great part of
the Persian troops penetrated in the night to the opposite plain.
The  defence of the straits was now  a fruitless endeavor; and
Leonidas, foreseeing certain destruction, ordered the greater part
of his force to retreat with speed and save themselves, while he,
with his three hundred Spartans, and a few Thespians and Thebans, determined  to maintain their position to the last extremnity.  Their magnanimous motive was to give the Persians a just
idea of the spirit of thalt foe whom  they vainly hoped to subdue.
They were all cut off, to one man, who brought the news to Spafta,
where he was treated with ignominy as a cowardly fugitive, till he
wiped off that disgrace in the subsequent battle of Plataa.
The assembly of the Amphictyons decreed  that a monument
should be erected at Thermopyla, on the spot where those brave
men had falle'l, and that famous inscription to be engraven on it,
written by the poet Simonides in the true spirit of Lacedsemonian
simplicity:
n tsI"' ayystov. 0aZeCaxI,IoT~oo 0,t &rzs
J      1EOl-'t LX~t nl0'V Q?]Uaect 5tl9O/L5Evt.
"0 stranger, tell it to the Lacedsamonians,
that we lie here in obedience to her precepts.




154                    vUNIVERSAL- HISTORYo             [BOOK RI
Xerxes continued' his march.  It was at this time the period
of the celebration of the Olylnpic games, and the national danger
did not interrupt that solemnity; a fact which will admit of very
opposite inferences; yet it was interpreted by Xerxes to the
honor of the Greeks, for it struck him with the utmost astonishment.  The Persian army proceeded without opposition to ravage
the country in their progress towards Attica.  The territory of
Phocis was destroyed with fire and sword; the greater part of tile
inhabitants flying for shelter to the rocks and caves of that mountainous country.  The town of Delphi, famous for its oracle, was
a tempting object of plunder, from  the treasures accumulated in
its temple.  These were saved by the laudable artifice of the
priests.  After ordering the inhabitants of the town to quit their
houses, and fly with their wives and children to the mountains.,
these men, from their skill in that species of legerdemain which
can work miracles upon the rude and ignorant, contrived by
artificial thunders and lightnitigs, accompanied with horrible noises,
while vast fragments of rock hurled from the precipices, gave all
the appearance of an earthquake, to create such terror in the
assailing Persians, that they firmly believed the divinity of the
place had interfered to protect his temple, and fled with dismay
from the sacred territory.
The invading army pursued its march towards Attica.  The
Greeks now afforded a melancholy proof of that general weakness
which characterizes a country parcelled out into small states, each
jealous of each other's power, and selfishly attached to its petty
interests, in preference even to those concerns which involved the
very existence of the nation.  The dread of the Persian power,
thus in the very act of overwhelming the country, instead of operating a niagnanimous union of its strength to resist the common
enemy, produced, at this juncture, a quite contrary effect.  The
rest of the states of Greece, struck with panic, and many of them
even siding with the invaders,* seemed determined to leave Athens
to her fate, which now appeared inevitable.  Themistocles hi!nself, seeing no'other safety for his countrymen, counselled theml
to abandon the city, and betake themselves to their fleet: a
melancholy extreme, but, in their present situation, absolutely
netessary.  Those who from age were incapable of bearing arms,
together with the women and children, were hastily conveyed to
the islands of Salamis and _IEgina. A few of the citizens resolutely
determined to remain, and to defend the citadel to the last extremity.  They were all cut off, and the citadel burnt'to the
ground.
Themistocles, to whatever motive his character may incline us
* This -disgraceful fact is asserted in express terms by Herodotus, lib. viii
c. 73




cH i.]                     ARTEMISIA.                           5
to attribulte his conduct, now acted a truly patriotic part.  The
Spartans had a very small share of the fleet, which belonged principally to the Athenians. With singular moderation, as avowing
his own inferiority of skill, Themistocles yielded the command of
the fleet to Eurybyades, a Spartan.  He made yet a greater effort
of patriotism.  Forgetting all petty jealousies, he publicly proposed
the recall, from banishment, of the virtuous Aristides, whose abilities and high character, he foresaw, might, at this important juncture, be of essential service to his country.
Two sea engagements were fought with little advantage on either
side; and the Greek fleet returned to the Straits of Salamis, between
that island-and the coast of Attica.
A woman of a singularly heroic character, Artemisia, queen ofHialicarnassus, firom a pure spirit of enterprise, had joined the fleet
of Xerxes with a small squadron which she commanded in person.
The prudence of this woman's counsels, had they been followed,
might have saved the Persian monarch the disaster and disgrace that
awaited him.  She recommended Xerxes to confine his operations
to the attack of the enemy by land, to employ his fleet only in the
supply of the army, and to avoid all engagement with the, Grecian
galleys, which now contained the chief force of the enemy. But
Xerxes and his officers disdained to follow an advice which they
judged the result of female timidity; and the compressed position
of the Grecian fleet seemed to offer a favorable opportunity for a
decisive blow to their armament.  The fleet of the Greeks consisted of 380 ships, that of the Persians amounted to 1200 sail.
The latter, with disorderly impetuosity, hastened to the attack; the
former waited their assault in perfect order, and with calm  and deliberate resolution. A- wind sprang up which blewv contrary to the
fleet of the Persians; and as it thus became necessary tb ply their
oars with the greater part of their men, their active force was
diminished, their motions impeded, and a confusion ensued which
gave their enemy a manifest advantage.  It was then that the
Greeks became the assailants: they raised the pcean, or song of
vXictory, and, aided by the wind, dashed forward upon the Persian
squadron; the brazen beaks of the triremes overwhelming and
sinking every ship which they touched.  The Persians suffered a
complete and dreadful defeat.  Artemisia, with her galleys, kept
the sea, and fought to the last with manly courage; while Xerxes,
who had beleld the engagement from an eminence on the shore, no
soonier saw its issue, than he precipitately fled, upon the circulation of a false report that the Greeks designed to break down his
bridge of boats upon the Hellespont.  The Greeks, landing from
their ships, attacked the rear of the Persian army, and made a
dlreadful carnage, so that the coast was thickly strewn with the dead
bodies.*
* Herod. 1. viii. c. 84. et seq. Plutarch, Aristid. Diod. Sic. 1. xi. c. 19. I




1.36                   UtNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BooK 1n
By the orders of their sovereign, the shattered remains of the
Persian fleet sailed directly for the  A.~ellespont, while the army,
by rapid marches, took the same route by Boeotia and Thessaly;.
marking their course by universal desolation: for this immense
host, after consuming the natural plroduce of the country: were
reduced, as Herodotus informs us, to eat the grass 1of the fields,
and to strip. the trees of their bark and leaves.  The same writer
mentions, that Xerxes himself never took off his clothes to go to
rest, till he reached Abdera, in Thrace. Having providedt: hows
ever, for his personal safety, he saved, as he imagined, his honor,
in this inglorious enterprise, by carrying to Persia a few  statues
and rich plunder from  Athens, and leaving 300,000 men under
Mardonius to  accomplish the conquest of Greece in the next
campaign.
The victory of Salamis, the first great naval engagemeent of the
Greeks, convinced them of the importance of a fleet for the national
defence; and. from that timne their marine, particularly that of Athens,
became an object of serious attention.
AMardonius, notwithstanding his immense force, seemed to have
greater hopes. from the power of Persian gold than Persian valor.
He attempted to corrupt the Athenians by offering them  the command of all Greece, if tley would desert the confederacy of the
united states.  Aristides was then archon: he answered, that while
the sun held its course in the firmament, the Persians had nothing
to expect from the Athenians but mortal and eternal enmity.  So
much did he here speak the sense of his countrymen, that a single
citizen having moved in the public assembly that the Persian deputies should be allowed to explain their proposals, was instantly
stoned to death.
Mardonius, now determined to wreak his vengeance on Athens,
prepared to assault the city with the whole of his force.  Tile
women, the aged, and the infants retired, a second time, to Ilhe
neighboring islands; and the Persians, without resistance, bur-t
and levelled the city with the ground.  But the Athenians soon h.ld
an ample revenge.
The Spartans sent to their aid, and for the national defence.)
5,000 citizens, each attended by seven Helots; in all, 40,000s
men.  The Tegeans, and others of the confederate states, contributed according to their powers; and the united army amounted,
according to the best accounts, to 65,000, when they met the
Persians under Mardonius, in the field of Platwa.   This day's
is singular that the most minute and accurate account of this celebrated seafight is to be found in the tragedy of the Perse, by tschylus; a composition
equally valuable as a noble effort of poetic genius, and as an historical record.
As,aEschylus was himself present in this engagement, and thousands of his
readers were eye-witnesses of the facts, his accuracy is beyond all impeach;
ment.




II. I.]                 ATHENS REBUILT.-:137
conflict was a counterpart to the naval victory of Salamis.  The
Persians were toally defeated: Mardonius was killed in the figlit.
Th1e slauighter  was incredible, as out of an arrny of 300,00 nen,
odily 40,000 are said to Leave saved themselves by flight.    he
Persian camp, exhibiting all the wealth and apparatus of luxIlty,
was a rich an-,d welcome plunder to the conquerors.  To colmplete
the triumIh of the Greeks, their fleet, upon the same day, gained
a victory over that of the Persians at Mycale.
_Fromn that day, the arnbitious-schemes of Xerxes were at ar end.
Ile had hitherto remained at Sardis, in Lydia, to be nearer tile scene
of his operations in Greece.  On receiving intelligence that all was
lost, he wreaked his revenge on all the temples of the Grecian divinities which adorned the cities of Asia; and returning to his capital
of Susa, sought to drown in effemninate pleasures the remembrance
of his shame; but his inglorious life was destined soon after to be
ended by assassination.
At no time was the national character of the Greeks higoher than
at the period of which we now  treat.  A  common interest had
annihilated, for the time, the jealousies of ttie rival states, and
given them  union as a nation.   At' the Olympic  games, all tile
people of Greece rose up to salute Thernistocles.   The only
contention between the greater republics, was a noble emulation of
surpassing eac h other in patriotic exertions for the general defence
of their country against the common foe.  But this feeling seemed,
in reality, to be an unnatural restraint against the predomninant and
customary spirit of these republics; for no sooner was the.national
danger, the sole motive of their iunion, at an end, than the former
jealousies and divisions recommenced.
After the expulsion of the Persians, the Athenians now prepared
with alacrity to rebuild their ruined city, and to strengthen it by
additional fortifications.  This design the Spartans could not regard
with a tranquil mind: and they had even the folly to send a fri)mnal
embassy to remonstrate against the measure; urging the weak preteice, that the national interest required that there should be no
fortified city out of Peloponnesus, lest the enemy, in the event of
another invasion, should make it a place of strength.  The real
motive of thlis extraordinary remonstrance was abundantly apparent.
They regarded the plan of rebuilding and enlarging Athens as an
alarming symptom of their rival's ambition to establish a predonlinant power.  They were aware that Athens, by means of her fleet,
could annoy at pleasure, and thus keep in silbjection, a great proportion of the inferior states.  Their republic, so formidable on
land, could never, with her iron money, have equipped a fleet to
vie with that of Athens, far less to resist a foreign invasion suchl as
they had lately experienced.  Conscious of the superiority already
obtained by Athens, Sparta beheld with uneasiness every synilptolm
of her aggrandizement; she had no other means of retaining her
VOL. I                     18




138                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY                 [BOOK 1I
own consequence among the states of Greece, than the diminishing
that of her rival.
It was not likely that the renmonstrance from Sparta should deter
the Athenians [from the wise and patriotic purpose of rebuilding and
strengthening their native city.  They sent Themistocles to Sparta
to explain tile reasons which influenced them  in that design, and
proceeded in the meantime to carry it vigorously into execution:
men, women, slaves, and even children, joined their efforts; and in
a very short space of time, Athenls rose from her ruins with a great
accession of strength and splendor.  The harbor of the Pireus,
under the direction of Themistocles, then chief archon, was enlarged and fortified, so as to form the completest naval arsenal that yet
belonged to any of the nations of antiquity.
The Persians still continued to maintain' a formidable armament
upon tile sea, and the operations of the Greeks were now exerted
to clear the AEgean and Mediterranean of their hostile squadrons.
The united fleet of Greece was commanded by Aristides and
Pausanias; the latter, a man of high birth and authority — uncle
to one of the Spartan kings, and regent during  his nephew's
minority, but himself infamous for betraying his country.  He had
privately despatched letters to Xerxes, offering to facilitate to him
the conquest of -Greece; and demanding his daughter in marriage,
as a reward of this signal service.  Fortunately his letters were
intercepted.  The traitor fled for protection to the temple of Minerva, a sanctuary from  which it was judged impossible to force
himl. bHis mother showed an example of virtue truly Lacedrnmonian.
Sle wallted to the gate of the temple, and laying down a stone
before the threshold, silently retired; the signal was understood and
venerated; the Ephori gave immediate orders for building a wall
around the temple, and within its precincts the traitor was starved
to death.
Pausanias was succeeded in the command of the fleet by Cimnon,
the son of Miltiades, and pupil of Aristides.   When the chief
command of the war was given to Athens, a new system was
6establislhed with regard to the contributions of the confederate
states, trusting no longer to contingent and occasional supplies or
firee gifts.  The subsidies to be levied from each were to be exacted in proportion to its means, and the revenue of its territory; and
a coltsnon treasury was appointed to be kept in the Isle of Delos.
The higlh character of Aristides was exemplified in the important
and honorable trust with which he was invested by the cotninlon
consent of the nation.  It appears that not only the custody of
the national supplies, but the power of fixing their proportions, was
conferred on this illustrious mnan; nor was there ever a complaint
or Inurntur heard against the equity with  which this hligh but
inlvidious function was administered.   The best testimony  of
his virtue was the strict frugality of his life, and the honorable
poverty in which he died.  The public which defrayed his funeral




cSi I.o]           THEMISTOCLES —ARTAXERXES.                  139
charges, and provided for the support of his children, thus decorated his name with the noblest memorial of uncorrupted integrity.
T'hernistocles was then at Argos.   His credit at Athens lhad
become formidable; an ostracism had been demanded, and he was
banished  by the influence of a faction of his enemies.  Ile had
fallen "under the suspicion of participating in the treason of Pausanias; and circumstances, though not conclusive, afford  some
presumptions of his guilt.  It is said that the papers of Pausanias,
containing a detail of the proposed scheme for betraying Greece
to Persia, were found in his possession.  Certain it is that measures were taken for a public impeachment before the council of
the Amphictyons, when Themistocles,; unwilling to risk the consequences of a trial while a strong party of the public.were his
enemies, hastily withdrew from Greece.  He fled first for protection to Adimetus, king of the Messenians; but the Greeks threatening a war against his protector, he tholught it prudent to seek a
more secure asylrum, and betook himlself to the court of Persia,
where he was received with extraordinary marks of distinction and
regard.  It is said that the Persian monarch vented this keen
sarcasm  against the Athenians, that he regarded them  as his best
frientls, in sending him the ablest man of their country; and that
le sincerely wished they would persevere in. tile same policy of
banishing from their territories all the good and wise.  Thlemistocles was loaded with honors, but did not long survive to enjoy
them.  Remorse, it is affirmed, had taken possession of his mind,
iwhich all the magnificence and luxury of the East could not dispel:or overpower; and he is said to  have swallowed  poison.  Tile
Greek historians, philosophers, and poets, all join in bearing honorable testimony to the splendid talents and the eminent services of
Themistocles.  Ambition, it is true, was his ruling passion; but
the ambition of a truly noble mind seeks the glory and the greatness of its country, as essential to the fulfilment of its own desires;
and if in reality the designs of Thernistocles were criminal, whlich
has never been fully proved, it is probable that the mean jealousies of his political enemies, and the ingratitude of his parent state,
drove him reluctantly to measures at which his better nature
revolted.  His last request was that his bones should be carried to
Greece, and buried in his native soil.
Xerxes, whom we have remarked to have died by assassination,
was succeeded by his third son, Artaxerxes, surnamed Lonieimaonus; who, in the absence of his eldest brother, having put to death
the other, usurped the Persian throne.  The war was still carried
on with Greece.  Cimon, the son of Miltiades, whose valor and
abilities compensated to Athens and to Greece the loss of Themistocles, after expelling, the Persians from  Thrace and firoln.many
of their possessions in the lesser Asia, attacked and totally destroyed their fleet near the moutli of the river Eurymedon; and
landing his troops, gained a signal victory over their army, on the
same day.




140                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                LBOOI, II'The consequences of this victory were certainly; important, it
they produced a complete cessation of hostilities on tile part ot
Persia against Greece, for a considerable length of time.  It has1
indeed, been asserted by some of the latest of the ancient writers,
that a treaty of peace was now  concluded, upon these honorable
terlms for Greece, that all the Greek cities of Asia should regain
their independence, and that no Persian ship should dare to comne
in sight of the Grecian coasts; but this important assertion rests
upon no sufficient authority; and that the war was soon after~
renewed with great animosity, is a fact undisputed.
A dreadful earthquake happening at Lacedaemon, which demolished almost every dwelling in the city, and destroyed about 20,000
of the citizens, tle Helotes, taking advantage of the disorder firom
that calamity, rebelled, and joined themselves to tile Alessenians,
witll  whom  the state wNas then at war.   Sparta, at this crisis,
solicited aid from  Athens; and, to the shame of that commonwealth, it was debated in the public assembly whetlher the request
slhould be complied with.  Ephialtes, the orator, urging that the
two  states were natural enemies, and that the prosperity of the
one depended on the abaserment of the other, gave his advice to
abandon  Sparta to her calamities.  Cimon nobly and powerfullly
coinbated  this unworthy sentiment, and his counsel prevailed.
He was entrusted with the charge of the expedition to assist the
Laceternonians; and lie was successful in putting an end to thle
rebellion.
Ciron owed his consideration with his countrymen not only to
the splendor of his military talents evinced by his great and glorious successes, but to the remembrance of his father's virtues and
services, and above all, to a generosity of character which delighlted equally in acts of private  bounty  and  public munificence.
Any of these distinguislhed merits u-ere sufficient at Athens to sow
the seeds of distrust and jealousy; but where all concurred, they
furnished a certain and infallible preparative of the humiliation of
llheir possessor.  He had a rival too in the public favor, who
souoght his downfall as the means of his own elevation.  This was
Pericles, a young man of a noble family, of splendid powers, andl
great versatility of character; who knew  how to veil his design3
of ambition with the most consummate artifice.  While lhe affected
the utmost moderation, declining all' public employments or offices,
hlis conduct seemed to be actuated by no otlher motive thlan an
amriable diffidence of his ow. powers, which, however, he took
care to display whenever occasion offered, in animnated and eloqplent speeches which breathed the most ardent and Oirtuous patriotism.  His mind was highly cultivated by the study of literature
and( the sciences; and the affability of his manners fascinated all
withl whom lie conversed.  It was not difficult for a man of this
character to gain high popularity at Athens; and joining himself
to the party which opposed the measures of Cimon, and seizing a




Ce. I.]                  CIM1ON-rPERICLES.                     141
favorable opportunity when the  popular mind was wound up to
their purposes, that virtuous patriot fell a sacrifice, and was banished by tile sentence of the ostracism.
The good understanding between Sparta and Athens could not
be  of long continuance.   Their mutual jealousies broke  out
afresh, and soon terminated in an open war between tile two republics.; and most of the minor states of Greece took a part in the
quarrel.  Had these aimed at absolute frieedom, it had perhaps been
their best policy to have stood aloof, and suffered those doiineering states to harass and -weaken each other.   But their own
smallness and insignificance were a bar to any plan of republican
independence.  The danger from  the Persians the common eneny, was felt by all; and the smaller states had  no chance to
esc.ape ruin, but through their allegiance to the greater.
Ill the course of this war between Athens and Sparta, Cimon,
though in exile, eager to serve his country, came to the Athenian
ariny with a hundred of his fiiends'who had voluntarily gone with
bhin to banishinent.  But the Athenia s rejected his proffered service, and forced himn  to retire.  His generous friiends, forcming
themselves into a separate band, desperately precipitated themselves *upon the army of the Lacedremonians, and were all cut
off.  This incident had a powerful effect in dispelling the poputlar
prejudices against this illustrious character.  The people of Athe.ns
were now convinced that they had been unjust and cruel to one of
their best patriots.   Pericles was aware of this change of sentiment, and  perceiving that his own popularity  might suffer by a
firuitless opposition, took the nierit to himself of being the first
proposer of' a public decree for Cim  i's recall from  banishment.
Pericles knew likewise that his rival's talents and his own sougllt a
different field of exertion.  While  Cimon-'s abilty  as a general
and naval commander would give him  sufficient employment at a
dlihtance, he himself could rule the republic at lomne with uncontrolled authority.
Cimon accordingly returned to his country, after an exile of five
years; before the end of which period Athens and Sparta had
renewed their alliance; and he sailed at the head of an armament
of 200 ships of war against the Persians, then in the vicinity of
Cyprus, with a fleet of 300 sail.  The squadron of the Greeks
attacked and totally'destroyed them.  Cimon afterwards landed in
Cilicia, and completed his triumph by a signal victory over Megabyzes, the Persian general, at the head of a great army.   Cillon
now  undertook and completed the reduction of Cyprus; but,while
besieging its capital, and in the very moment of victory  this heroic Ilan, wasted by disease and fatigue, died, to the general loss
of Athens and of Greece.  The army, at his special request when
expiring, concealed his death, and proceeded with vigor inl their
operations till the object of the enterprise was gloriously accorin
plished, and Cyprus added to the dominion of Athens.




1t42                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                  [BOOK Ig
The naval and military power of Persia was completely broken
by these repeated defeats; and all furthler hostile operations against
their fornmidable enemny were abandoned for a considerable length
of time.  Tile military glory of tile Greeks seems at this period
to  have been at its hig-hest elevation.  They had maintained a
lon0 and successful war, and at length  established an undisputed
supeoriority  over the greatest and  most flourishing  of the contemplorary emp)ires of antiqllity.   The causes of this superiority
are st:fficiently apparent.  Greece undoibtedly owed many of her
tritlmplis to those illustrious nlen whlo lhad the command of her
fleets and armies; to Miltiades, to Aristides, to Thernistocles, and
to Cimon.  But the noblest e\ertions of individuals would 1have
availed little, uwithout that spirit of union which bound  together
her selparate states in defence of their common liberties.  Greece
was only formidable while united.   The  Persian  empire infinitely superior in power, and. inexhaustible in resources, derived
fiomn the force of a despot an involuntary and reluctant species of
association, very different from an union arising fiorn the spirit of
patriotism.  The armies of the Persians, immense in their numbers, were like the heavy and inanimate limbs of a vast and illorganized body.  They yielded a sluggish obedience to the will
of the head, but were totally incapable of any spirited and vigorous exertion.
But a season of rest frotn the annoyance of a foreign foe was
ever fatal to the prosperity and to the real glory of the Greeks.
Their bond of union was no longer in force.  The petty jealousies and quarrels of the different states broke out afresh,.with an
acrimony increased from  tlir temporary suspension.
Athens, which during the war had firmly attached to her alllance a great many of the smaller states, who, in return for protection, cheerfully contributed their supplies for carrying it on, was
equally desirous qf maintaining the same ascendant in a season of
peace, and thlus gradually sought to extinguish the original independence of the smaller states, and perpetuate their vassalage.  But
these were jealous of their freedom, and utterly scorned to become
the slaves or tributaries of that ambitious republic.  Unable, lhowever, to withstand her power, they had no other means of wvithdrawing themselves fiom her dominion, than by courting an alliance
with her rival Lacedernon: for to show  that they could at pleasure join themselves to either of these rival states, was, as they
flattered themselves, a demonstration that they were not dependent on either.  The smaller republics were therefore continually
fluctuating between the scales of Athens and Lacedramon; a circumstance which fomented the rivalship of the latter states, and
imbittered their animosities; while it increase&d the national dissensions, and ultirnately induced that general weakness which paved
the way for the reduction and slavery of Greece.
From this period, too, the martial and the patriotic spirit began




CI. II.]L            ATHENS AND LACEDMEMION.                   143
alike to decline in the Athenian republic.  An acquaintaince with
Asia, arindthe importation of a part of her wealth, had introdulced
an imitation of her manners, and a taste for her luxuries.  But the
Athenian luxury was widely different from  that of the Persians.
With the latter it was only unmeaning splendor and gross sensuality; with the former it took its direction from  taste and genius:
and while it insensibly corrupted the severer virtues, it is not to be
denied that it led to the most elegant and refined enjoyments of
life.  Tlhe age of Pericles was the era of a change in the national
pirit of the Atllenians: a taste for the fine arts, which had hitherto  lain  dormant fiom  the circumstance of the national danger
engrossing all tile feelings and passions of men, began, now  that
this danger had ceased, to break forth with suprising lustre.  Tile
sciences, which are strictly allied to the arts, and which always
find their chief encouragement from ease and luxury, rose at the
same time to a great pitch of eminence.
The age of Pericles is not the era of the highest national glory
of the Greeks, if we understand that term  in its best and proudest
signification; but it is at least the era of their highest internal
splendor.  Under this striking change, which is evidently  preparatory to their downfall, we shall proceed to consider them.
CHAPTER II.
Administration of Pericles-Peloponnesian War-Siege of Platma-Alcibiades
-Lysander —The Thirty Tyrants- Thrasybulus-Death of Socrates —Retreat of the Ten Thousand-War with Persia terminated by the Peace of
Antalcidas.
THE deathl of Cimon left Pericles for sope time an unrivalled
ascendency in the republic of Athens; but as the more his power
increased, he used the less art to disguise his ambitious spirit, a
faction was gradually formed to oppose him, at the head of which
was Thucydides, the brother-in-law  of Cimon, a man no less
eminent for his wisdom and abilities than estimable for his integrity.
He had powerful talents as an orator, which he nobly exerted in
the cause of virtue and the true interest of his country; but hle was
deficient in those arts of address in which his rival Pericles so
eminently excelled. While Pericles, amused the people with
shows, or gratified them with festivals, and while he dissipated the




144-                   UNIVERSAL rISTORY.                [BooxK m.
public treasure in adorning the city with magnificent bulildings, and
the finest productions of the arts, it was in vain that Thucydides,
ardent in the cause of virtve, presented to their minds the picture
of ancient frugality and simplicity, or urged the weakening of tle
power and resources of the state by this prodigal expenditure of
her treasure.  Pericles flattered the vanity of his countrymen by
represellting their power as insuperable, and their resources as
inexhaustible.  It is probable that lie was himlself blinded by his
ambition and vanity.  He published an edict, requiring all the
states of Greece to send against a certain day their deputies to
Athens, to deliberate on the common interest of the nation.  The.Athenians looked on themselves as the masters of all Greece   odut
they had the mortification to find that no attention was paldl to
their presumptuous mandate.  Pericles, to palliate this wound to
their vanity, from  which his own credit was in some danger of
suffering, ordered the whole fleet of the republic to be immediately
equipped, and hastened to make an ostentatious parade throutgh
the neighboring seas, by way of evincing the power and naval
superiority of the Athenians.  This, however, was a wise policy,
and shows that Pericles knew human nature, as well as the peculiar character of the people whom he ruled.  It was necessary to,keep the Athenians constantly engaged, either with their anmsements or some active enterprise; and in dexterously furnishing
this alternate occupation lay the art of his government of a people
wlhich surpassed any other in fickleness of character.
Fostered  in their favorite passions, the Athenians grew  every
day  more.vain  and  presumptuous.  They planned  the  most
absurd schemes of conquest; no less than the reduction of Egypt,
of Sicily, of that part of Italy called  IJcagna  Grcecia-and the
subjection of all their own colonies to an absolute dependence on
the mnother state.  Pericles now  perceived that he had gone too
far, and that, in flattering their vanity, he had.given rise to schemes
which lmust terminate in national disgrace and in his own ruin.  It
was fortunate, both for him and for his country, that a seasonable
rupture with Spa;rta gave a check to these romantic projects; and
the sagacious demagogue, from that time, discovered that to cherish the luxurious spirit of his countrymen was a safer means of'
maintaining his prowax than to rouse their vanity and anibition.
The finances, however, of the republic were exhausted, and the
taxes of course increased.  The party of Thucydides complained
of this in loud terms, and with great justice.  Bnt Pericles ladl
the address to ward off this blow, by proudly offering to defray
from) his own fortune the expense of those magnificent structures
xvhich he had reared for the public.. This was touching the right
cord; for neither the generosity nor the vanity of the Athenians
would allow this offer to be accepted; and the result was a great
increase of popularity to Pericles, and the complete humiliation of
the party of his enemies.  He now  signalized his  triumph by




CIL. II.]             PELOPONNESlAN WAR.                      145
procuring the banishment of Thucydides; and on the pretence of
establishing a few new colonies, he dexterously got rid of the most
turbulent of the citizens who traversed and opposed his governm ent.
The allies. of the commonwealth, however, loudly complained
that the public treasures, to which they had largely contributed,
and which were intended for their common defence and security
against the barbarous nations, were entirely dissipated, in gratifyinig the Athenian populace with feasts and shows, or in decorating
their city with ornamental buildings.  Pericles haughtily answered,
that the republic was not accountable to them for the employment
of their money, which was nothing more than the price they paid
for the protection which they received.  The allies might have
replied with jtistice, that in contributing supplies, they did not discharge a debt or make a purchase, but conferred a deposit, to be
faithfully employed for their advantage, and of the expenditure of
which they were entitled to demand a strict account: but they
durst not call Athens to account; and Pericles and Athens were
of one opinion.
But an event now  took place, which silenced all inquiries of
tiis nature, and bound the subordinate and confederate states in
humble submission to the principal,-this was the war of Peloponneslls.
The state' of Corinth bad been included in the last treaty between  Athens and Lacedamon.  The Corinthians had for some
titne been at war with the people of Corcyra, when both these
states solicited the aid of the Athenians.  This republic, after
some deliberation, was persuaded by Pericles to take part with
Corcyra; a measure which the Corinthians with great justice
complained of, not only as an infraction of the treaty with Sparta,
but on the ground that Corcyra was their own colony; and it was
a settled point in the general politics of Greece, that a foreign
power should never interfere in the disputes between a parent
-state and its colony.  A  less important cause was sufficient to
exasperate the Lacedremonians against their ancient rival, and war
was solemnly proclaimed between the two republics.
The detail of this war, which has been admirably written by
Thucydides, one of the best historians as well as one of the
greatest generals of antiquity, though it concerned only the states
of Greece, becomes, by the pen of that illustrious writer, one of
the most interesting subjects which history has recorded.  Our
plan excluding all iminute details, as violating the due proportions
in the comprellensive p)icture of ancient history, necessarily confines us to a delineation of outlines.
The greater part of the continental states of Greece declared
for Sparta.  The Isles, dreading the naval power of Athens, took
part with that repu}lic.  Thus thile principal strength of Sparta
was on land, and that of Athens at sea'; whence it may be iudged,
VOL. I.                     L1




146                 UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK 1X
that the opposing states might long annoy each other, before any
approach to a decisive engagement.
The army of the Lacedaernonians, vwhich amounted to above
60,000 men, was more than double that of the Athenians and
their allies.  But this inequality was balanced by the great sulleriority of the marine of Athens.  Their plan of military operations
was, therefore, quite different.  The Athenian fleet ravaged the
coasts of Peloponinesus; while the army of the Lacedtemonians
\desolated the territory of Attica and its allied states, and proceeded
with little resistance almost to the gates of Athens.  RThe Atllenians, feeling, the disgrace of being thus braved uElon their own
territory, insisted, with great impatience, that Pericles should
allow them to face the enemy in the field; but he followed a
wiser plan of operation.  He bent his whole endeavor to folrtify
the city, while he kept the Lacedwemonians constantly at bay by
skirmishing parties of horse; and, in the meantime, the ALhenian
fleet of 100 sail was desolating the enemies' coasts, and plundering
and ravaging the Spartan territory.  The consequence was, the
Spartans, abandoning all hope, which they had at first conceived,
of taking Athens by siege, ended the campaign by retreating into
Peloponnesus.  The Athenians, in honor of their countrymen who
had fallen in battle, celebrated magnificent funeral games, aind
Pericles pronounced an animated eulogium to their memory, which
is given at large, by Thlcydides.
In the next campaign, the Lacedeemonians renewed the invasion
of Attica; and the invaded had to cope at once with all the horrors
of war and pestilence; for Athens was at this time visited by one
of the most dreadful plagues recorded in history.  The particulIars
of this calamity are painted in strong and terrible colors by Tiuucydides, who speaks from his own experience, as he was among
those who were affected, and survived the contagion.  One extraordinary effect he mentions, which we know, likewise, to have
happened in other times and places from the same cause.  The
general despair produced the grossest profligacy and licentiousness
of manners.  It seems to be common, too, to all democratic governments, that every public calamity is charged to the account of
their rulers.  Pericles was blamed as the occasion, not only of
the war, but of the pestilence; for the great numbers cooped tip
in the city were supposed to have corrupted the air.  The Athenians, losing all resolution to struggle with their misfortunes, sent
ambassadors to Sparta to sue for peace; but this humiliating
measure served only to increase the arrogance of their enemies,
who refused all accommodation, unless upon terms utterly disgraceful to the suppliant state.  Although Pericles had strongly
dissuaded his countrymen fro m  what he thought a mean and
pusillanimous measure, they scrupled not to make him the victim
of its failure, and with equal injustice and ingratitude, they de.
prived him  of all command; and inflicted on hinm a heavy fine.




cau ItI               PELOPOTNNESI.AN WAR.                   147
BLut they found no change for the better from  his removal.  Those
factions which'he had a matchless skill in managing and controlling,
began to excite fresh disorders; and the very men who. had solicited
and procured his disgrace, were now the most eager to restore him
to his former power.  Such was the fickleness of the Athenian
character; so fluctuating are the minds and tile counsels of a moband so insignificant their censure and applause.
This extraordinary man did not long survive the recovery of
his honors and ascendency.  On his death-bed he is said to have
drawn comfort fromn this striking reflection, that he had never made
one of his countrymen wear mourning; a glorious object of exultation for the man who had run a career of the most exalted ambition, who had sustained the character of the chief of his country,
and in that capacity had at his command the lives and fortunes of
all his fellow citizens.  The eulogists of republican moderation
and frugality have reproached  Pericles with his ambition, his
vanity, and his taste for the elegant arts subservient to luxury and,
corruption of manners; and these features of his mind, without
doubt, had a sensible influence on the character of his country;
but his integrity, his generosity of heart, the wisdom of his counsels, and the pure spirit'of patriotism which dictated all his public
measures, have deservedly ranked him atmong the greatest men of
intiquity.
The celebrated Aspasia, first the mistress and afterwards the wife
of Pericles, had from her extraordinary talents a great Vscendency
over his mind, and was supposed firequently to have dictated his
counsels in the most important concerns of the state.  She was
believed to have formed a society of courtesans, whose influence
over their gallants, young men of consideration in the republic, she
thus rendered subservient to the political views of Pericles.  The
adversaries of his measures employed the comic poets, Eupolis,
Cratinus, and others, to expose these political intrigues to public
ridicule on the stage; but Pericles maintained his ascendency, and
Aspasia her influence; for such were the powers of her mind, and
the fascinating charms of her conversation, that even before her
marriage and while exercising the trade of a courtesan, her house
was the frequent resort of the gravest and most respectable of the
Athenian citizens;' among the rest, of the virtuous Socrates.
The age of Pericles is the era of the greatness, the splendor,
and the luxury of Athens, and consequently the period from which
we may date her decline.  The power of Athens was not built on
any solid basis.  She was rich only from  the contributions of her
numerous allies; and when these withdrew  their subsidies and
shook off their dependence, which they were ever ready to do
whlen they were not in danger, her power declined of course: for
the territory of the republic was small and unproductive, and her
internal resources extremely limited.  Had Sparta adhered to the.
spirit of her constitution, she was much more independent than




148                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.       o          [00K II
Athens.  Her situation naturally gave her the command of Peloponnesus.  She could employ the -subsidies of her allies to no other
purposes than those for which they were destined; and therefore
required no more than what the expenses of war necessarily demanded.  Her confederate states, therefore, paid an easy price for protection, and consequently found it always their best interest to adhere to their. allegiance.  With these advantages, the balance was
much in favor of Sparta, in her contest with Athens.  But one
false step threw the weight into the opposite scale.
The Spartans, eager to cope with the Athenians at sea as well
as on land, solicited the aid of Persia to furnish them with a fleet.
This measure, which opened Greece a secondJtime to the barbarians, annihilated the patriotic reputation of Lacedemron, and detached many of the states from her allegiance, through the just dread
of subjection to a foreign power.
It is sufficient to give a general idea of the conduct of the Peloponnesian war; its detail must be sought in Thucydides and Xenophon.  Thucydides lived only to complete the history of the first
twenty-one years of the Peloponnesian war; the transactions of
the remaining six years were detailed by Xenophon, in his Grecian
History.  Neither party seem to have pursued any fixed or uniform
plan of operations.  The theatre of war was continually shifting
from one quarter of Greece to another, as occasional successes
seemed to direct; but ignorant how to push advantages, and equally
dispirited with trifling losses, the rival states were always alternately
disposed to peace, or a renewal of hostilities.
One of the most remarkable transactions of this war was the gallant defence made by the little town of Platma,,which sustained a
siege and blockade for near two years, against the power of the
combined states of Peloponnesus.  As this is the first regular siege
of which history gives us any complete detail, a short narrative of
its particulars, as described by Thucydides, will be useful, as illustrating the state of the military art at that period, in so far as regards
the attack and defence of fortified places.
Plataea, in the Bceotian district of Greece, and not far distant
from'Thebes, being frequently harassed by that republic, had
allied herself to Athens as her surest defence against servitude and
oppression.   This alliance brought on her the hostility of the
Peloponnesian confederacy: but remembering the signal services
of this small state at the time of the Persian invasion, the Spartans
proposed to compromise matters with Plataea, provided she renounced her treaty of union with Athens, and put herself under thle
protection of Lacedaemon.  The Athenians, in the meantime, sent
the Platreans an assurance of all their support, and this determined
Platea to keep firm  to her ancient friends.  The Spartans, thinking they had now fulfilled every obligation of honor, laid vigorous
siege to the town, which contained only a miserable garrison of
400 citizens, 80 Athenians, and 110 women, besides children.




CaE. II.]              SIEGE OF?PLATgA.                     149
The city wais surrounded with a wall and ditch, around which the
besiegers first planted a strong circle of wooden palisades.  Then
filling up a part of the ditch to serve as a bridge, they proceeded
to raise a mound of earth against the walls, which they strengthened
on the outside with piles closely wattled with branches, to give
stability to the tmound which was to serve as a stage for the engines
of attack.  Meantime, the besieged, foreseeing that the enemy
would soon be in possession of that part of the wall, while they
took every'means to annoy the assailants and impede their work
by repeatedly undermining the mound, built a new wall in the
inside, in the form of a crescent, so that, should the outer wall be
gained, the enemy might still find an'unforeseen impediment to
their approach.  The besiegers made small progress, and were
daily losing great numbers of men; they therefore tried a new
plan, which was, by heaping great quantities of wood covered
with pitch and sulphur around the walls, to set fire to the city in
different quarters at once.  The experiment promised success,
for there was an immense conflagration; but fortunately for the
besieged, a torrent of rain extinguished the fire.  On the failure
of this attempt, the besiegers determined to turn the siege into
a blockade; and they now built two strong walls of brick around
the town, which they strengthened on either side with a ditch and
towers at stnall intervals; and as the winter was at hand, the
Ba-eotians were left to guard the walls and prevent all succors
from without, while the Spartans and the rest of the allies returned to Peloponnesus.   The situation of the Platacans was now
extremely hopeless; their stores were exhausted, and no resource
remained but to force a passage through the enemy's works.  This
one half of the garrison attempted and executed in a very daring
manner.  They took advantage of. a dark and stormy night, and
moounting  the enemy's inner wall by ladders, they surprised and
cut to pieces the guards in the towers, and were descending the
outer wall, when the alarm was given, and the Bceotians were in a
moment all in arms; 300 of these with lighted torches, rushing to
the place, served only to give more advantage to the Platteans,
by showinb them where to direct their darts and stones while they
passed by them  in the dark.  In a word, they made good their
escape to Athens; while the remaining part of the garrison next
day surrendered at discretion, and were barbarously massacred by
the exasperated Lacedoemonians.  The whole operations of this
siege. indicate the very imperfect state to which the art of war
had attained at that time, in the most warlike of the nations of
antiquity.
A truce was now concluded between the belligerent powers for
fifty years; but this was observed only for a few months. Alcibiades, who, after the death of Pericles, had obtained a high
ascendant with the Athenian people, which he owed not less to
his noble birth and great riches than to his insinuating manners




150                  JUNtIVERSAL HISTORY,              [1BooK le.
and powers of eloquence, at this time directed all the counsels of
the republic.  His ambition and his vanity were equal to those ot
his predecessor, but his measures were not always the result of
equal prudence.  It seemled to be ambition, and the desire of
opposing his rival Nicias, that were the sole motives of his conduct
in prompting a quarrel between the people of Argos and Lacedramon, which engaged the Athenians in support of the Argives to
renew the Peloponnesian war.  The Argives, however, had more
prudence than their new allies, and made a peace for- themselves.
Disappointed in this project, Alcibiades now turned his views to
the conquest of Sicily —a more splendid object of ambition; but
equally unsuccessful, and much more disastrous in its consequences.
The plan of conquering Sicily had been among those wild projects
cherished by the Athenians, but from which they had been dissuaded by the prudence of Pericles: it was now resumed on the frivolous ground that the Egestans and Leontines, two Sicilian states,
had requested the Athenians to protect them against the oppression
of Syracuse.  Nicias attempted to convince his countrymen of the
folly of embroiling themselves in this quarrel;, which was a sufficient
motive with Alcibiades to encourage it.  The expedition was therefore undertaken, and committed to four generals, Nicias, Lamachus,
Demosthenes, and Alcibiades; but the latter had scarcely landed
in Sicily, when he was called back to Athens to defend himself
against a'charge of treason and impiety.   As every thing there
was carried by a faction, Alcibiades was condemned, and escaped
a capital punishment only by taking refuge at Sparta, and offering
his warmest services to the enemies of his country.'Meantime thle
dissensions of the Athenian generals, the time wasted in besieging
some small sea-ports, and the arrival of succors from  Lacedaemon,
which strengthened and inspirited the Syracusans, combined to the
total failure of the enterprise.   After a friuitless attempt upon
Syracuse, in the course of which Larnachus was killed, and after
various engagements both by sea and land, in which the invading
fleet and army were always obliged to act upon the defensive, the
Athenians were totally defeated.  They now attempted a retreat,
but being closely pursued they were forced at length to surrender
prisoners of war, leaving their fleet in the hands of the enemy, and
stipulating only that their lives should be spared.  This condition
the Syracusans fulfilled as to the army, but, with a refinement of
barbarism, they scourged to death the two generals, Nicias and
Demosthenes.  Such was the miserable issue of this ill-concerted
expedition.
The consequences of these disasters were, on the whole, not
without some benefit to the Athenians.  Their foolish pride was
humbled, their inconsiderate ambition checked, and some wise and
vigorous reforms were made in the constitution of the republic
Among these was the institution of a new council of elders, whlose
function was to digest and prepare the resolutions touching all




Cn. lI.]                  ALCIBIApES.                       151
pul'lic measures, before they were proposed in the puolic assembly.
This, as a judicious writer has remarked, "  was providing for the
prudence of executive govern:nent, but not for vigor, for secrecy,
and for despatch:" a deficiency in these capital points is inseparable
from a constitution purely democratical.
We have remarked that Alcibiades had taken refuge at Lacedemon.  Here he soon attained both confidence and high employment; but this glimpse of favor, which the traitor ill-deserved, was
of short duration.  The principal men among the Lacedaemonians
could ill brook those marks of favor and preference to a stranger
and a refugee.  His character was known as that of a thoroughpaced politician; his motives were therefore always suspected;
and while ostensibly employed in the service of Sparta with the
Greek states of Asia  a service which had no other end than his
own private interest —a party at Lacedmrnon had procured his
condemnation for treason against the state.  He got a seasonable
intimation of his danger, and betook himself for protection to
Tissaphernes, the Persian governor of Sardis.
In the eighth year of the Peloponnesian war, the Persian monarch, Artaxerxes Longimanus, died. He was succeeded by Xerxes
the Second, his only legitimate son, who was soon after assassinated
by his natural brother Sogdianus.  This prince was dethroned a
few months after, by his brother Ochus, who assumed the name of
Darius, to'Which the Greeks added the surname of Nothus, or the
Bastard.  H4e was a weak prince; controlled entirely by his queen
Parysatis, a woman of great artifice and ambition.  His reign was
a continued series of rebellion and disturbance.
The versatile character of Alcibiades could accommodate itself
to  all situations.  At Athens he had alternately flattered the
nobility and the populace.  At Sparta he assumed, with admirable
hypocrisy, the simple and austere manners of a Laceduemonian.
At Sardis, the easy companion of the luxury and debauchery of
Tissaphernes, he gained over that satrap the most entire ascendency.  This situation he attempted to turn to his advantage, by
making his peace with his countrymen of Athens.  He offered
them  the alliance of Tissaphernes, and of consequence the superiority over Sparta, and a termination of the ruinous war of Pelo.
ponnestls; but he made the absolute conditions of these advantages
his own recall, and a change of the Athenian constitution from a
popular government to an oligarchy of the principal citizens.  The
spirit of Athens was broken; patriotic;virtue was at low ebb; and
a continuance of war, and of the triumphs of her rival state, offered
a prospect of nothing but ruin.  The terms of Alcibiades were
complied with.  The government of the republic was committed
to four hundred of the nobles, who were vested with absolute
autllority.
No sooner was intelligence of this sudden and extraordinary
revolution brought to the Athenian army at Samos, than they




Y52.             P~UNIVERSAL HISTOHRY.           L[OK gm
followed a conduct equally extraordinary.  They deposed from
command those generals whom they suspected of favoring thle
revolution; they sent deputies into Asia, to court aid fiom  tlhe
very man who was' its author; they solicited him to return to take
the chief command, and rescue their country from  its new tyrants~
Surprised and delighted with this most unexpected issue to his
schemes, Alcibiades eagerly embraced the offer.  He would not,
however, return till he had merited his pardon by some important
services.  The Lacedrmonian fleet under Mindarus had seized
the island of Euboea, a most essential dependency upon Athens~
Alcibiades defeated Mindartus in  two  naval engaements, and
recovered that important island~  The people of Athens, exasperated at their new governors, to whose weakness and contentions
they attributed the loss of Eubcea, began to look towards the Inan
who had recovered it as the prop and stay of his country.  lie
had increased his triumphs by the capture of Byzantium, Chalcedon, and Salymbria, which had revolted from the Athenian government; and when he appeared with his shins of war in the port of
Pireus, all Athens rushed forth to hail his arrival, and to crown
him with garlands of victory.   The government of the four hundred nobles was now abolished, the ancient constitution renewed,
and Alcibiades declared chief general of the republic by sea and
land.
For twenty-eight years the Peloponnesian war was carried on
with various success.  The military talents of Alcibiades were
displayed in several important victories.  While successfiul, he was
the idol of his country.  But in all democracies, and democratic
governments, the popularity of those in power must keep pace
with the success of the public measures.  A single battle lost in
Asia deprived Alcibiades of all his power, and he became a second
time an exile from  his country.  But it would appear that his
absence was always fatal to the Athenians.  The fleet of the
republic at 2Agos-Potamos,    through the carelessness of,.its commanders, was entirely destroyed by Lysander, the admiral of the
Lacedemonians.  Of three hundred ships which had sailed froin
tihe Pireus, only eight returned to the coast of Attica.
Athens, besieged by sea and land, was now at the last extremity.
HIer fleet, which was the main defe.nce of the republic, was annihilated.  After sustaining a blockade of six months, tile Athenians
offered to submit, on the condition that their city and the  larbor
of Piraeus should be saved from  destruction.  The Spartans and
allied states took this proposal into consideration.  The allies
strenuously urged the total destruction of the Athenian empire
and name.  But the Spartans were more generous.  Thev concluded a peace on tile following conditions,-that the fortifications
of Piraeus should be demolished; that Athens should limit the
number of her fleet to twelve ships; that she should give up all
the towns taken during the war; and, for the future, undertake no




eIl. II.]                   LYSANDER.                          153
military enterprise but under the command of the Lacedmmonians.
Such was the issue of the famous war of Peloponnesus.
It is to the same Lysander whlo had the merit of terminating this
destructive war so glorioulsly for his country, that all the ancient'
writers have attributed the first attack uipon the system of Lvyclrgls,
and tire beginning of the corruption of the Spartan colstitution.
Gold was now for the first time introduced into Lacedaemon.  Lysander sent home an immense mass of plunder which had been
taken in Greece and Asia during the war of Peloponnesus.  This
was a direct blreach of the fundamental laws of the state; hut the
period was now  come, when such a Imeasure was not only justifiable, but necessary.  The trutht is, that the institutions of Lycurgus
were fitted for a rude period of society, and adapted to the regulation of a smiall, a warlike, and an independent commonwealth.
His system  was quite repugnant to the spirit of conquest, and the
manners that are inseparable from  extensive dominion.   Whlen
Lacedvlnon canie to aspire to the sovereignty of Greece, it was
impossible for her to retain her ancient manners, or adhere to her
ancient laws.  To preserve the ascendency she had acquired in
Greece, it was necessary either that she should herself accumulate
treasures requisite to pay her dependants in the allied comlnmonwealhs, and grant them  occasional subsidies, or to be herself
dependent for those resources uipon the Persian satraps.  Lysander
saw this necessity, and he took that alternative which appeared to
him  the least dishonorable.  He procured the abrogation of that
a!l;ient lawv which prohibited the importation of gold into the republic.  It was not allowed a free circulation, but was deposited in the
public treasury, to be employed solely for' the uses of the state.  It
was declared a capital offence if any should be found in the possession of a private citizen.  Plutarch censures this as a weak and
sophistical distinction.  It was indeed easy to see, that wlenever it
became necessary for the state to be rich, it would soon become tile
interest and the passion of individuals to be so.  This conseq'ienee
inmtediately followed; and though some severe examples were malle
of offenders against the law, it was found impossible, fiomrl this
period, to enforce its observance.
The reduction of Athens by the Spartans occasioned an entire
change in the constitution of the Athenian republic.,ysanl(ler
abolished the democracy, and substituted in its place an adtninistration of thirty governors, or, as the Greek historians term  tlemn,
Tyratnts, (TvoxrJvot,) whose power seems to have been absolute,
unless in so far as each was restrained by the equally arbitrary will
of his colleagues.  He likewise placed a Spartan garrison in time
citadel, under the command of Callibius.  Soon after tlis event,
so disgracefill to his country, the celebrated Alcibiades was lput
to death, in Phrygia, by assassins employed for that purpose by
Pliarnabazus, the Persian governor, who, it is said, was proznpted
to that act of treachery by the Lacedaemonians, who dreaded to see
yOL. I.                    20




154                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                  [BOOK II.
this able and ambitious man once more reconciled to his country.
~ile perislied in tile fortietll year of lhis age.
Thlle admlinistration of the thirty tyrants soon became quite intol
eralble to the Athelnians.  A stronger specimen of their government
cannot be given than tle following.  Theramenes, one of the tlirty,
a mall  of a IIOre liumane dislosition than his colleagues, hzaving opposed1 the severity of some of their measures, Critias, his colleague,
who byv the controlling influence of the Spartans Iiad acquiredtlhe
chief ascendency in the council, accused him  of disturbing  the
peace of the state.  The consequence was, thatafter a public trial,
in wliich the pllilosepher -Socrates was among the few  who had
coturage' to aid hiim  in his defence, lie was condemned to die by
poison: and hIis death was the prelude to a series of proscriptions,
confiscations, and murders of thle most respectable of the citizens,
whlo were obnoxious to these sangulitlary rulers, or who had dared
to muruilnur at their proceedings.  It is conmputed by Xenophon,
tlhouglh doubtless witlh exaggeration, that a greater numiber of Athenitn citizens lost their'lives by the sentence of these tyrants, in the
shlort space of eight months, than had fallen in the whole course of
the Pelopo!lnesian war.
The p)eople were awed into silence, and dumb with consternatiodn.  The most eminent of the Athenian families left their country
in despair;  and the bravest of those who cherislled a hope of
restoring its liberties and putting an end to this usurpation, chose
for their leader Thrasybullus, a man of known abilities and undaunted resolution, under whose conduct and auspices they resolved to
make a vigorous effort for the recovery of their fireedom.  Spar a
had strictly prohibited the other states of Greece receiving, proteeting, or giving any aid to the Athlenian fiugitives.  Thebes and
Megarla were the only republics which generously  dared to disobey this presumptuous mandate.  Lysias, an orator of Syracuse,
s, t to their aid five hundred soldiers, raised at his own expense.
Tlhis band of patriots had now  increased to a considerable number, and, headed by Thrasybulus, they  made a sudden  assatllt
on the PirLeus, and made tiemselves masters of the port'aiid fortifications, which were the main defence of the city'of Atliens.
The tlhirty tyrants hastily- assembled their troops to attack and
dislodge the assailants, and a battle ensued, in whiich the patriots
were  victorious.  Critias was killed; and as the troops of the
tyrants were making a disorderly  retreat, Thrasyblults gallantly
a(tldressed them  as friends and fellow  citizens..  " Why do you
fly from  me," said  he, "as firom  an enemy?. Am. I not your'
otuntry nan and your best firiend?  -It is not against you, but
against your oppressors, that I am  fighting.  Let us  cordially
ullite in thle noble design of vindicating tht liberty of our dear
country."  This alppeal hlad its proper effect.  The army returned
to Athens, and, in a fill assembly of the people, the thirty tyrants
were deposed and expelled from the city.  The government was




CIU. Ii]                     SOCRATES.                          155
comrnmitted to a council of ten citizens, who still abused their pnwcr.
Tlue deposed thirty solicited the aid of Sparta, and an armny inlinediatel' look the field, widl the purpose of re-establishing theill in
tleir power: bhut tile attempt was unsuccessful: the patriots were
agaicl victorious; the oppressors of their country were defeated
ane:l slain, and Thrasybulus returning in triurlph)l to Athens, aftei
pro: laimlling a general amnesty, by. which every citizen took a
solenin oa.h to bury all past transactions in-oblivion, this brave
andl virtuous Athenian hlad the signal honor of restoring to his
country its ancient formn of government.
One event which happened at this time reflected more disgrace
uponl the Athen:ians tlian all their intestine dissensions or their
national hmlniliatiorl.  This was the persecution and death of the
illustriotls Socraes: he who, in the words of Cicero, " first brought
philosophy froin lheaven to dwell upon earth, who faniliarized hler
to the acquiaintantce of man, who applied her'divine doctrines to.
the colmmron purposes of' life; and the advancement of htlman hiappiness, and tile true discernment of good and evil."  This great
mana, 11ho was the bright pattern of every virtue which lie taugllt,
became an object of hatred and,!isgust to the corrupted Athenialns.
He had excited the jealousy of the Sophists, a set of men who
pretended to universal science, whose character stood high with
the  Athenlian youth, and who taught their disciples a specious
mode  of arguing with equal plausibility on all subjects, and on
either side of any qulestion.  Socrates detested this species of
julgglery, which mined the foundation of every moral truth.  Hie
saw  its pernicious influence, and he was at pains to expose the
futility of this trifling logic, and to bring its professors into merited
contempt.  These, therefore, and a nunierous party of their disciples,'became, of course, his inveterate en rmies.  They caltilnniated Socrates as a corrupter of youth; for tof these the nlost
ingenuous and vir'tou.i were openly become his schlolars and partisaris: they accused him  as an enemy to religion, because in his
sublinle reasonings, without regard  to  the superstitions of the
vulgar, he endeavorerd to lead the mind to the knowledge of one
supreme and beneficent Being, the author of nature, and the supp1orter of the universe: they represented him, in fine, as a foe to
the constitution of his country, because he had never been restrained by an interested or selfish  policy, from  freely blaming tlat
inconstancy and flucluation of counsels which mark the proceedings of all Popular assemblies.  There  was abuindant matter of
accusation, and a charge of treason and impiety was laid against
Iiiin in fill form.
The ablest, at that time, of the Greek orators, Lysias, generounslv offeredf to undertake the defence of Socrates; but tile latter
deQclined to avail himself bf tflat offer.'' I will not," said lie,
"4 suppose nmy juidges interested in my condemnation; and ift' I
am guilty, I lmust not endeavor by persuasion to avert tile award




156                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                  LBOOIK l
of justice."  His defence he made himself, with the manly fortitude of conscious innocence.  Plato, in his  apologia So ratis,
has given an ample account of it.  It consisted of a simple detail
of his life,,and conduct as a public teacher; in reference to which
lhe ulttered this striking apostrophe:' I I believe, 0 Athenians, the
existence of God more than my accusers.  I am  so perfectly
contvinced of that great truth, that to God, and to you, I submit to
be judged in that iranner you shall think best for me and for your
selves."  The populace, whom  their demagogues had strongly
prejudiced against this great and good man, were affected by his
derace, and showed  marks of a' favorable disposition; when
Anytus and several others, men of high consideration in the
republic, now openly stood forth and joined the party of his awcusers.'The weak and inconstant rabble were drawn along by their
influence, and a majority of thirty  suffrages declared  Socrates
gutilty..  The punishment was still tundetermined, and he himself
had the right of choosing it.  " It is..my choice," said he, " that
since my past life has been employed in the service of the public,
tlhat public should for the future be at the charge of my support."
This tranquillity of mind, wl-ich could sport with the danger of
ilis situation, served only to exasperate his judges.  He was sentenced, aftec' an imprisonment of thlity days, to drink the juice of
hemlock.  That time he spent as became tile hero and the philosoptler.  His friiends had prepared the means of his escape, and
earnes'ly endeavored to persuade hini to attempt it; hbut he convinced thein that it is a crime to violate the law, even where its
sentence is unjust.  On the (lay of his death lie discoursed with
uncommon force'of eloquence on the immortality of the soul, on
thle influence that persuasion ought to have on tlhe conduct of life,
anid on the comfort it diffused on the last moments of existence.
He drank the poisoned cup without the smallest emotionl; and,
in the agonly of dea h, showed to his attending friends an examlpIe
of tranquillity which their deep-felt grief denied them all power of
irmitating.  The narrative of this concluding scene, as it is given
by Plato in his dialogue entitled Phladon, is one of the noblest
specimnens  of simple, eloqiuent,!and  pathetic description  which
is any where to be Inet wilh; a narrative, to the force of vwhich
Cicero  bears this strong testimony, that he never could read it
witlOUt tears.  Suclh was the end of this true philosopher, of
whllon his ungrateful countrymen knew not the value till they lhad
destroyed him.  It was, time now  to awake to shame and to
renmorse, and to express their sorrow for his death by the utmost
albhorrence for his persecutors.  These met with their deserved
)tlishlment; but the rep oach was indelibly fixed upon the character of thle Athenians, and no contrition could wipe it out.
The military character of the Greeks was not yet extinguished,
notwiths'tanding their national corruption.  In the same year with
the last-mentioned event, a part of the Grecian troops in Asia




CH. II.]              THE TEN THOUSAND.                       157
signalized themselves by one of the most remarkable exploits
recorded in L.istory: this was the retreat of the ten thousa:nd.
On  tile deathi of Darius Nothus, his eldest son Artaxerxes
Mnelnon succeeded to the empire, while his brother Cyrus was
by their father's will invested with the government of Lydia and
several of the adjoining provinces.  The ambition of this'young
marn early conceived the criminal project of dethroning his elder
brotheri, and seizing upon the throne of Persia; but though his
design was detected, he obtained his pardon firom  Artaxerxes,
upon the entreaties of Parysatis, the quteen-mother, and with a
singular measure of generosity  was even continued  in the fill
comrnand of his provinces.'his humane indulgence he treacherously abused, by secretly  levying a large army in different
quarters of the lesser Asia, under the. feigned pretence of restraining some of the disorderly satraps, but in reality with the purl)ose
of a sudden attack against his unprepared and unsuspecting brother.
In the army of Cyrus were a cliosen body of 13,000 Greeks
fiom  the Peloponnesus, under the command  of Clearchus, a
Lacetemonian, an officer of -great experience and prowess, to
whorn  alone of all his captains Cyrus confided  the nature and
object of his enterprise.  It was with infinite address upon the
part of Clearchus, that the Greeks, together with the rest of: the
armny, were led on from province to province till they came witlhin
a few days' march of Babylon, where Cyrus at length imparted
to them the purpose of the expedition, and reconciled thein to its
hazards by a large increase of present pay and an assurance of
unbounded rewards in the event of final success.  But this they
were not destined to experience.  In a decisive engagement at
Cunaxa, in the plain between the Tigris and Euphrates, the Greeks
pt)t to flight that wing of the Persian army which was opposed to
them.  Cyrus, after the most extraordinary exertions of personal
valor, espying Artaxerxes atnidst the strong body of his guards,
singled himn out for his attack, and after twice wounding his brother
and dismounting him from  his horse, fell himseli' a victim  by tlhe
hand of Artaxerxes, who pierced him to the heart with his javelin.
Thus this ambitious youth, who seems to have been in other respects an accomplished and heroic character, met with his deserved
fate.  It is sutrprising that Xenophon, who has admirably written
the history of this expedition, should have bestowed the most unbounded encomium on this prince, without the smallest censure of
his most culpable enterprise.
The Greek army, diminished by its losses and by desertions to
10,000 men, made a most amazing retreat.   Harassed  by thle
Persian troops under Tissaphernes, who hung continually  uipon
their rear, Clearchus brought them  again to a pitched battle, in
whlich the Greeks defeated the barbarians a second time and put
their armly to flight.  Perceiving, however, that in a country of
enemies, where they must fight at every step of their progress,




158                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK II
they must perish, even though victorious in every action, Clearchus
willingly listened to a proposed accomnmrodation with Tissaphllernes,
w-llo invited him  for that purpose, together with the rest of thle
Greek commanders, to a firiendly conference.  With great weakness, Clearclhus and four of the principal officers repaired to the
enemy's camp, attended by a very slender escort.  They had no
sooner entered the tent of Tissaphernes than, uLpon a given signal,
they were all massacred.  The consternation of the Greeks at tlis
horrible treachery was extreme.  They saw that they had nlothing
to trust either to the faith or mercy of the barbarians, and tlhat
thleir only safety lay at the point ot their swords.  In a midnight
consultation of the troops, Xenophon, then a young man and in
no high command, took upon him  to counsel and to iarangue the
de;pairing army.   By his advice they immediately chose new
generals in the room  of those who had perished, and Xenophon
hinself, with four others, being  invested  with  this imllportant
charge, his admirable conduct, perseverance, and valor,.brought
his countrymell at length safely through all their difficulties.  Thley
began by burning all theirl useless -baggage, every man  retaining
oily whlat was absolutely necessary for the malrch.  Thley proceeded  withll indefatigable resolution and almost da'ly  conflicts
with- the enemy, ignorant of the roads and of the defiles, crossing
wide and dangerous rivers, and often breast-deep in tile snow, to
make their way through  the moluntainotus country eastward of
Mesopotamia, to Armenia and  the farther prcvincts bordering
tlpon the Etlxine.  Ascending a steep mountain on the borders of
Colchis, the vangtulard of the artny  set 11)p a prodigious shllout,
which Xenophon, in the rear, supposed to be the signal of a sudden attack from  the enemy, and urged  on tile mainl  body with
haste to the summnit; lIyen, to their inexpressible joy, they found
it was the first sigllt of the sea which had occasioned this exclamation.  With one sudden and sympathetic emotion, the soldiers
and commanders rushed into each other's arms and shled a torrent
of tears; and then, without any order, each man striving to outdo
his fellow, they raised an immense pile of stones upon the spot,
which  they crowned with broken bucklers and spoils they had
taken fromn the enemy.  Arriving soon after at Trapezus, a Greek
colony upon the Euxine, they  celebrated  splendid ganies with
great joy and festivity for the space of several days; and finally
embarking  at Sinope, after many  turns of fortune and various
adventures in the course of their progress homewards, this eventful
expedition, in which the Grecian army traversed a space of 1155
leagues, was terminated in the course of fifteen months.
Tile narrative of this expedition by Xenophon is one of the most
valuable compositions that remain to us of antiquity.  In the form
of a journal it gives a minute detail of every day's transactions, the
counsels, plans, and different opinions of the principal officers, a
vivid description of the places, cities, rivers, and mountains, upon




.CIi. aI.],~'SPARTA-PERSIA.                                  159
the line of march; the productions of the different countries; the
singular manners of many of the rude nations through wlhich they
passed; and, finally, the extraordinary incidents which befell this
hardy and resolute band of adventurers, through every stage of a
campaign of greater duration, ditfculty, and danger than was ever
performed by any army of ancient or of modern times.  In fine,
tile.qnabasis of Xenolphon, with the veracity of genuine history,
has all the charms of an interesting romance.
The cities of Ionia had taken part with the younger Cyrus against
Artaxerxes.  The greater part of the Greeks in the service of
Cyrus in that expedition were, as we have.seen, Lacedaeronians.
Sparta was now engaged to defend her countrymen, and consequent-'lv was involved in a war with Persia.  There was an inherent
weakness in the constitution of the Persian monarchy, arising firomn
the high power and alhnost supreme authority exercised by the
satraps, or governors of the provinces.  It is easy to imagine how
formidable to the monarch of Persia must have been the confederacy
of two or three of these satraps, and of consequence that it was his
chief interest to keep thern disunited by fomenting mutual jealousies.
The state maxim of the Persian kings was, therefore, to divide, in
order to command; a rule of policy which is a certain proof of the
fundamental weakness of that government where it is necessary to
ado!pt it.  In Persia, the satraps might, by this management, be
kept in a statq of unwilling dependence on thie crown, but it left the
monarchy itself weak and defenceless.
1a(ld the Greeks at this period been sensible of their real interest; had they again united as a nation, making Sparta the head of
the confederacy, as in the former war with that power they hald
done A hens, it would not have been a difficult enterprise to have
overthrown this vast empire.  Btd;  experience does not always
enlighten; and xwith the Greeks it was not easy for a sense of general or national advantage to overcotne particular jealousies.  T'lle
haughty Athenians, in spite of their humiliation, would have ill,brooked the degradation of ranging themselves under the bannels
of Sparta; much less was it to be expected that the Spartans, just.
ly elevated wvith their success in the Peloponnesian war, would ever
again stoop to act a subordinate part to Athens.
Conon, the Athenian, who, in the conclusion of that War had lost
the decisive battle of.Jgos-Potamos, had retired to the isle of Cyprus, where he only waited an opportunity of regaining his credit,
andl recommending himself to his country by some active service
against her rival, Sparta.  In this view, he threw himself tinder the
protection of Artaxerxes, who gave him  the command of a fleet
which he had equipped in Phmonicia.
The Lacedamlonians, on receiving this intelligence, resolved to
prosecute the war with the utmost vigor; and Agesilaus, one of thle
Spartan kings, in that view crossed into Asia with an arn.y.  lie
had, in his first campaign, such signal success, that the Persian




160                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK IX
monarchy seemed t3 threaten a revolution.  The Asiatic provinces
bgall to court tlie alliance of Lacedrmon; the barbarians flockedl
to her standards fiom all quarters   Artaxerxes thlougglt it advisable
to attempt a diversion in Greece.  He employed Timocrates, a
Rhodian, to negotiate with some of the tributary states belonging to
Lacedzermon, and to excite them to throw off her yoke, and assert
thelir independence.  He found the most of them well-disposed to
tlhis attempt, and a proper application of the Persian gold hastened
their insurrection.  A  league - as formed against Sparta by the
stales of Arzos, Thebes, and Corinth; and Athens soon after
joined the confederacyi sWhich gave a sudden turn to the fortunes of
Lac edaemon.
The Spartans raised two considerable armies, and commenced
hostilities  by entering  the  territory of Phocis.   They  were
defeated; Lysander, one of their generals, being killed in battle,
and Pausanias, the other, condemned to death for his misconduct.
Much about the same timne, the Persian fleet under the comnland
of Conon vanquished that of Sparta, near Cnidos, a city of Caria.
This defeat deprived the Lacedaemonians of the command of the
sea.  lTheir allies took the opportunity of this turn of affairs to
throw off their yolke, and Sparta, almost in a single campaign, saw
herself-witho ut allies, without power, and without resources.  TIhe
reverse of fortune experienced by this republic was truly remarkalble.  Twenty years had not elapsed  since she was absolute
mistress of Greece, and held the whole of her states either as
tributaries or allies, who found it their highest interest to court her
favor and protection.  So changed was her present situation, that
the most inconsiderable of the states of Peloponnesus spurned at
lher authority, and left lier singly to oppose the united power of
Persia and the league of Greece.
To escape total destruction, the Lacedaemonians made an overture of peace to the Persians.  Antalcidas, commissioned for that
purpose, applied to Terebasus, the governor of Lydia.  He'laid
before him  three articles as the conditions of amnity and alliance.
By the first, the Spartans abandoned to Persia all the As atie
colonies; by the second, it was proposed that all the allied states
of Greece shouldl  enjoy their liberty, and the choice of their owa
laws and form of government; and by the last, it was agreed tlat
such of the states as might acquiesce in these conditions should
unite in arms, and compel the others to accede to them.  Arta.
xerxes accepted these propositions, but stipulated further, that he
should be put in possession of Cyprus and Clazomene, and tlhat
the Athenians should get possession of the islands of Scytos,
Lemnos, and Ihrbros.  Some of the principal states of Greece,
and Thebes in particular, refused at first to consent to this, which
they -justly regarded  as a humiliating  treaty; but, too weak to
make an effectual opposition, they yielded to tile necessity of thei:
situation.




I'. l.A                  TrHEBEnS.                          161
CHAPTER IIl.
it sPUBLIC OF THEPEs —Pelopidas and Epaminondas-Battle of Leuctr. —of
Mantinea-General Peace and its consequences-Philip of Macedon-The
Sacred War-Demosthenes-Battle of Chmronea-Designs of Philip against
Persia-His death.
VWHIrLE the two great republics of Greece, Sparta and Athens.
were thus visibly tending to. decline, another of the Grecian corn
monwealths, which had hitherto made no conspicuous figure, now
suddenly rose to a degree of splendor which eclipsed all her contemporary states.   This was the republic of Thebes, whose
sudden elevation from obscurity to the command of Greece is one;'
of the most remarkable occurrences in history.
As Sparta, by the late treaty with Persia, seemed to be regarded
as the predominant power in Greece, and to have negotiated (as
it may be termed) the fall of the nation, she was naturally induced.
to endeavor by every means to maintain this character of ascendency, and for that end had her partisans and political agents in all
the principal states.  The natural consequence of this policy was
to excite and maintain in all of them two separate factions; the one
the'pa/triotic supporters. of liberty and independence, and the other
the mnean slaves of Lacedaemonian interest.  Such, among the rest,
was, at this time, the situation of Thebes.  The patriotic party in
this republic which supported its ancient constitution and independence, was headed by Ismenias; while the opposite faction,
which aimed at the establishment of an oligarchy, had for its chief
supporter Leontiades, a mlan firmly devoted to the interest of
Sparta.  It happened, at this time, that Phaebidas; a Lacedaemonian general, was sent with an army to punish the people of
Olvnthus, a Thracian city, for an alleged infraction of the late
treaty of peace, by making conquests over some of the neighboring states.  The Spartans considered themselves as the guarantees of that treaty which they had so main a hand in negotiating,
and which professed to secure the independence of the several
republics.  We shall see  how  faithfully  they discharged  this
guarantee.  Leontiades, the head of the party of the oligarchy at
Thebels, prevailed on Phwebidas to second his attempts against the
liberties of his country.  The Spartan general readily'gave his
aid, and introducing his army, took possession of the citadel;
while the unsuspicious Thebans, trusting to the faith of the treaty,
were employed in celebrating the festival of Ceres. Ismenias,
VOL. I.                  21j




162                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [1B00K M,
the chief of the democratic interest, was seized and put to death;
and the principal men of his party escaped with precipitation from
the city.
The conduct of the Spartans, in this juncture, shows how
unequal is the conflict between virtue and self-interest.  They
acknowledged it an act of treason in Leontiades to have thus
betrayed his country, and they reprobated the conduct of Phlbidas
in giving his aid to a measure which w'as a direct infraction of
a national treaty; but being now masters of Thebes, they did not
choose to abandon their acquisition.  This shameful conduct was
justly censured by all Greece.  Four hundred of the chief citizens
of Thebes had fled for protection to Athens.  Among these was
Pelopidas, the avenger and deliverer of his country.  Maintaining
a regular intelligence with such of the citizens as were friends to
the cause of justice and patriotism, at the head of whom was the
great Epaminondas, a plan was concerted for the recovery of
Thebes, which succeeded to the. utmost of their wishes. Pelopidas, with eleven of his friends in the disguise of peasants, entered
kthe city in the dusk of the evening, and joined the rest of the conspirators in the house of a principal citizen, of the name of Charon.
Philidas, who acted as secretary to the polemarchs or chief magistrates of Thebes, was,, secretly, a steady friend to the design;
and had purposely invited the chiefs of the oligarchy, and the
principal of the Spartan commanders, to a magnificent supper at
his house; where, as a part of the entertainment, he promised to
regale his guests with the company of some of the handsomest of
the Theban courtesans.  lWhile the  guests, warm  with wine,
eagerly called for the introduction of the ladies, a courier arrived
from Athens, and brought a letter to Archias, the chief governor,
desiring it to be instantly read, as containing important business.
sC This is no time, " said the voluptuary, "' to trouble us with busiL
ness: we shall c6nsider of that to-morrowt."  This lett'er containeda full discovery, of the plot.  Meantime, Pelopidas and his conmpanions, dressed in female attire, entered the hall, -and each drawing a dagger from under his robe,. massacred the governor and the
whole of the Spartan officers, before they had time to stand upon
their defence.  The principal of their enemies thus despatched,
they entered the houses of several others whom  they knew  to be
nostile to'their purpose, and put them likewise to death.  Such
were the transactions of this busy night.  But a strong garrison of
1500 Spartans were in possession of the citadel.  Fortunately, a
Dody of 5000 foot and 2000 horse, despatched from Athens,
arrived early next morning to the aid of Pelopidas.  Epaminondas
called to arms all the citizens who wished the deliverance of their
country, and put himself at their head: the associated troops laid
siege to the citadel; and in a very short time, the, Spartans, seeing
all resistance vain, agreed to open the gates and save the effu ion
of blood by instantly evacuating Thebes.  The  capitulation was




1t. I1.]              BATTLE OF LEUCA,                       1'63
agreed to; and Pelopidas and Epaminondas were hailed the deliverers of their coqlntry.*
Thebes was. now necessarily involved in a war with Sparta; but
she had the assistance of Athens.  With this respectable aid, she
was, perhaps, a match for her; powerful antagonists but she did not
Rong enjoy the advantage of that alliance: Persia, which since the
last peace had acquired a title to mediate in the affairs of Greece,
brought about an overture of accommodation between the contending states.  All articles were agreed upon,, when a small punctilio
exasperated the Thebans.  They could not bear that their name
should be classed among the inferior states of Greece; and Sparta
was determined that it should.   Neither party would yield, and
Thebes was entirely struck out of the treaty, which was acceded to
by all the other republics.
Thus the Thebans stood alone, in opposition to the league of
Greece: but Epamrninondas and-Pelopidas were their generals. The
battle of Leuctra showed how much may be achieved by the patriotic exertions and abilities of a few distinguished individuals.  The
Theban army, amounting only to 6000 men, commanded by Epaminondas, entirely defeated 25-,000 Lacedoemonians, and left 4000,
with their king, Cleombrotus, dead upon the field. By the law of
Sparta, all who fled from  the enemy were doomed to suffer a
capital punishment; but Agesilaus prudently suspended the law for
a single day: the Spartans, otherwise, must have ost their whole
army.
It is remarkable, that when the news of this great defeat reached
Lacedoemon, the citizens were engaged in celebrating the public
gamnes, and an immense concourse of strangers attended that solemnity.  The fatal intelligence spread a general alarm; but the Ephori,
with admirable presence of mind, ordered the games to proceed
without interruption. The best method of blunting the edge of
misfortune is to brave it.  The parents and relations of those who
had fallen in battle went, next day, in solemn procession, to thank
the gods that their sons had died in the bed of glory: while the
relatives of those who had escaped, were overwhelmed with shame
and affliction.
The petty states of Greece always took part with a victorious
power.   Epaminondas, determined to push his suedess, and to
penetrate into Laconia, found his little army speedily increased to
70,000 men.  With this force he might have razed Lacedaemon
* In this account of the revolution of Thebes, I have followed the authority of
Plutarch in preference to that of Xenophon, though, in general, I admit that the
credit of the latter is higher than that of the former. But Xenophon, with all his
talents and virtues, was a man of strong prejudices; of which there cannot be a
more striking example than this very narrative; in the whole of which he never
once mentions the name of either Pelopidas or Epaminondas, to whom, not only
Plutarch, baIt the general voice of the ancient authors, has attributed the principal
agency in this revolution.




164                  UNIVERSAL HI'STORY.            [BOOK II
to the ground, and abolished the Spartan name: but he was satisfied
with having checked their insolence and perfidy; and he returned
to Thebes, after having rebuilt the city of Megalopolis, where he
collected the Arcadians, and repeopled Messene, from which the
Spartans had driven out the inhabitants; thus re-establishing, almost
under the walls of Sparta, two of her ancient and most inveterate
enemies.
The history of the Grecian states affords too many examples
that, under a constitution purely democratic, the public mind is so
fickle that the highest efforts of virtue and patriotism  are more
frequently repaid with ingratitude than with the rewards of honor
and popularity.  Epaminondas and Pelopidas, on their return to
Thebes, were accused of having retained their command four
months beyond the term  of their commissions, while engaged in
the Peloponnesian expedition.  This, on the specious pretext of a
strict regard to military duty, was adjudged to be a capital offence,
and the people were on the point of condemning to death those
men who had not only rescued their country from servitude, but
raised the Theban name to the highest pitch of glory.  Epaminondas undertook to defend the conduct of Pelopidas by taking the
whole blame upon himself.  "I was," said he, "the author of
those measures for which we stand here accused.  I had indulged a
hope that the signal success which, under our conduct, has attended
the Theban arm- would have entitled us to the gratitude, and not to
the censure of our country. Well! let posterity, then, be informed
of our crimes and of our punishment. Let it be known that Epaminondas led your troops into the heart of Laconia, which no hostile
power till then had ever penetrated; that his crime was that he
abased the glory of Sparta, and brought her to the brink of ruin;
that he made Thebes the most illustrious of the Grecian states; let
it be ihscribed on his tomb, that death -was the reward which his
country decreed for these services;" The Thebans were ashamed
of their own conduct; the judges dismissed the charge, and the
people atoned for their ingratitude by the strongest expressions of
praise and admiration.
Yet this rectitude of feeling was only temporary.  All the
states of Peloponnesus supported by Thebes were at war with
Sparta.  The other republics, however, and principally Athens,
were inflamed with jealousy of the Theban power, and, uniting
in a league to curb its ascendency, they applied for aid from Persia.  To counteract this cooperation the Thebans sent Pelopidas
to Artaxerxes, who convinced him that it was more for' his real
interest to countenance and support their infant power, which
could give no jealousy or alarm to his empire, than to add weight
to those great, republics, which had always been at variance with
him.  Artaxerxes declared himself the ally of Thebes.  The
Greek ambassadors were all dismissed, loaded with magnificent
presents; Pelopidas alone refused them.  In the assembly of the




CH. II.]                VMACEDONIA.                       165
people at Athens, a porter ludicrously proposed that, instead of
nine annual archons, they should elect nine ambassadors of the
poorest of the people, and send them every year to Persia.
Epaminondas, at this time, made another descent upon Peloponnesus, when he was opposed by the Spartans, the Athenians,
and Corinthians.  Hie was at first successful, but, overpowered at
last and obliged to retreat, he returned to Thebes, where his ill
fortune was construed into treason, and he was deprived of' all
command.  We shall presently see his fickle countrymen once
more disposed to rate his services at their true value.
Macedonia, a few years before this period, was in a state of
civil war, from the quarrels for sovereignty which arose between
the two sons of Amyntas, upon the death of their father.  The
Macedonians solicited aid from the Thebans to compose the disorders of their country, and Pelopidas was for that purpose sent
thither with an army.  He effected the object of his mission by
placing Perdiccas on the throne of Macedonia, and he carried
with him to Thebes, Philip, the brother of Perdiccas, with thirty
of the young nobility, as hostages for the security of this settlement.  This was Philip, afterwards the King of Macedon, and
father of Alexander the Great; a youth who so profitably employed his time in the study of the art of war under those two able
masters, Pelopidas and Epaminondas, that from them he acquired
that rhilitary knowledge which afterwards proved so fatal to the
liberties of Greece.
The people of Thessaly, alarmed at the ambitious designs of
Alexander, the tyrant of Pherae, who aimed at reducing the whole
states under his own dominion, solicited the aid of the Thebans to
protect their liberties.  The Thebans complied with their request,
and Pelopidas, sent into Thessaly as an ambassador, to hear the
subject of complaint, and to mediate on the part of Thebes, was, in
contempt of the law of nations, seized by Alexander and thrown
into prison.  The Thebans justly resenting this gross outrage, sent
an army against the tyrant, and Epaminondas, eager to cooperate in
the delivery of his friend Pelopidas, but debarred by the late decree
from all military command, joined himself as a private soldier to the
expedition. The Theban forces were encountered in the field by an
army greatly superior in numbers; and such was the pusillanimity,
of their generals, that they were on the point of making an ignominious retreat, when the spirit of the troops was roused by the
strong  feeling of impending disgrace.  They compelled their
generals to yield the command to Epaminondas, who very speedily
turned the fortune of the day, and, after repulsing the tyrant,
obliged him to offer terms of accommodation, of which the first
condition was the release and restitution of Pelopidas.  This signal
service of Epaminondas, though performed, as we have seen, at
the expense of a new infringement of military duty, tne very
offence for which he had lately so severely suffered, was now




166                  UNIVERSAL. HISTORY.            [BooK 1a
rewarded by the universal applause of his country, and a complete
reinstatement in all his former honors and popularity.
Pelopidas had no sooner recovered his liberty than he resolved
to wreak his vengeance against the tyrant of Phera.  At the head
of a new expedition for this purpose, he encountered Alexander
at Cynocephalae, and gave him a complete defeat; but eager to
engage the tyrant, whom  he challenged to single combat in the
field, he unwarily exposed himself to a shower of javelins from the
enemy, and fell pierced with numberless wounds.  The Thebans
justly- considered their victory as dearly purchased by the loss of
this most brave and virtuous citizen.  The Thebans and Thessalonians jointly performed his funeral obsequies with the most distinguished pomp and magnificence.  The tyrant of Pherae was
soon after assassinated by his wife and her brothers, who avenged
by this blow their own and their country's injuries.
A new war now broke out between Thebes and Sparta, on
account of a quarrel between the Tegeans and Mantineans, the
former protected by the Thebans, the latter by the Lacedwemonians
and Athenians.  Epaminondas made another attempt upon Lacedaemon, which owed its preservation to the conduct and bravery
of Agesilaus.  The Theban general, on receiving intelligence that
the best of the Spartan troops, with Agesilaus at their head, were
on their march to Mantinea, judged this a most seasonable opportunity for an attack on Sparta, which, having no walls, he expected
to seize in the night without any opposition. Agesilaus, however,
getting a hint of his design, had just time to apprise the city of its
danger, and the Thebans had already penetrated into the heart of
it; when, to the surprise of Epaminondhs, he found himself vigorously attacked by Agesilaus himself and his brave son, Archidamus,
with the flower of the Spartan youth, who displayed ihe greatest
courage in making head against the invaders. The Thebans were
now  forced to make. a precipitate retreat.  This unsuccessful
enterprise was the more galling to Epaminondas, that the term of
his military command was just about to expire.. He earnestly
wished to compensate for his failure by some splendid stroke
against the enemy.  The Spartan troops, as we have seen, had
been suddenly called off from Mantinea to.. defend their city.
Epaminondas now attempted, by a rapid march, to surprise and
seize Mantinea; but in the meantime its garrison had been reinforced by an Athenian army, which met the Thebans in front, on
their approach to the town, while the Spartans, aware of their
design, were following close upon their rear.  An. engagement
now ensued, one of the most celebrated in the Grecian history.
The army of the Thebans amounted to 30,000 foot and 3000
horse; that of the Lacedwemonians and their allies to 20,000 foot
and 2000 horse.
The battle was fought with the most desperate courage on both
sides. The detail of particulars is to be found in Xenophon,




CH. IIi.]          EPAMINONDAS-iMANTINEA.                  167
Diodorus, and other historians.  The judicious disposition of the
Theban army, and their movements  during  the  engagement,
showed the profound military skill of their general.  In the heat
of the battle, the Thebans having broken and repulsed the Lacedoemol'ian phalanx, Epaminondas, too rashly pursuing his success,
had advanced beyond the line of his troops, when the enemy
rallying, he was exposed to a whole shower of darts, and fell,
pierced with numberless wounds.  His faithful Thebans found
means to rescue his body while life yet remained, and to bring
hini to his tent.  A javelin stuck fast in his breast, and his physician declared that on extracting it he would immediately expire.
In this extremity, breathless and fainting, while his friends stood
weeping around *hirn, he first inquired what was- become of his
shield, and -being told that it was safe, he beckoned to have it
brought to him, and kissed it.  He then asked which side had
gained the victory, and being told it was the Thebans, "Then,"
said he, "all is well."  While some of his friends were lamenting
his untirnely fall, and regretting that he had.left no children to
perpetuate his memory; "Yes," said he,'I have left two fair
datughters, Leuctra and Jlantinea-these will perpetuate my memory;"-so saying, with his own hands he drew forth the javelin
from his breast, and instantly expired.
The ancient historians have ranked Epaminondas among the
greatest heroes and most illustrious characters of antiquity. Epaminondas princeps meo judicio Grcecice, says Cicero.  As a general,
there needs no other criterion of his merit than to compare the
situation in which he found his country, enslaved, oppressed, weak,
and inconsiderable, with tfiat in which he left it, the most formidable
power in Greece.  As a private citizen, his social virtues, the generosity of his disposition, a total disregard of wealth, which his high
employments gave him an easy opportunity of accumulating; his
eminent philosophical and literary genius, and above all, a modest
simplicity of demeanor, which added lustre to all his numerous
accomiplishments, were the distinguishing features of his character.
With him the glory of his country may be said to have been born
and to have died; for, from the inauspicious day of his death, the
Theban power vanislfed at once, and that Boeotian republic sunk
again into its original obscurity.,Athens and Sparta were humbled in the battle of Mantinea.
Thebes was victorious, but she was undone by the death of Epaminondas.  All parties were now disposed to peace, and Artaxerxes,
more powerful among those infatuated states than in his own dominions of Persia, dictated the terms of the treaty.  It was stipulated
that each of the states should retain what it then possessed, and that
all should enjoy their liberties independent of each other.  The
Spartans alone refused their assent to this treaty, unwilling to relinquish that control which they considered as their right over some
of their tributary cities.




X168                 UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK Xl
Ai'taxerxes soon after died of a broken heart  Darius,' his eldest
son, together with fifty of his natural brothers, had conspired against
their father, but their designs were defeated, and they were all put
to death.  Ochus, the third of his lawful sons, succeeded, him.
This monster had made his way to the throne by mnurderlhg his
elder brother, and, to secure his possession, he murdered all that
remained of his kindred.
The treaty recently concluded among the states of Greece was
fatal in its consequences to the glory of the nation.  The greater
republics, exhausted and weakened by the warp and now abridged
in their power and resources by the independence of the smaller
states, were alternately sunk in indolence and apathy, and embroiled by civil contentions. The inferior republics, who derived
weight and consideration chiefly from their alliance with the great
states who were their protectors, were now forced, in all their
quarrels with each other, to rely upon their own strength.  No
general object united the nation, which now became a discordant
mass of unequal and independent parts.  In addition to these
symptoms of decline, luxury was extending hler baneful -influence,
in enervating and corrupting the patriotic spirit. A taste for the
productions of the fine arts, and a passionate pursuit of pleasure,
had, in the Athenian republic particularly, entirely supplanted
heroic virtue.  Poets, musicians, sculptors, and comedians, were
now the only great men of Attica.  While the bewitching dramas
of Sophocles and Euripides charmed the ears, and the sculptures
of Phidias, of Glycon, and Praxiteles fascinated the eyes of the
refined and voluptuous Athenians, military glory was forgotten;
and the defence of the state, no longer the care of its citizens, was
committed to mercenaries, who filled both its fleets and its armies.
Even in Sparta, luxury had begun to spread her contagion; while
her power was shaken by the general treaty, which, though rejected
on her part, gave sufficient -warrant to all her dependent cities to
renounce their allegiance.
In this declining situation of Greece, while she offered a tempting object of ambition to the designs either of a foreign conqueror
or a domestic tyrant, the prince of a small monarchy, hitherto
quite inconsiderable, began to meditate an attack against her
general liberties.  This was Philip of Macedon; the same youth
whom, as we have observed, a few years before, Pelopidas had
carried a hostage to Thebes in security of that establishment he
had made, in placing Perdiccas II. on the throne, and composing
the disorders of his k'igdom.
Philip, while in Thebes, had been the companion of Epaminondas, the pupil of his father Polymnis, and had shared in those
excellet  lessons which formed the illustrious Theban to be the
support and glory of his country.  The house of Polymnis, at
Thebes, Bweasn the resort of the most learned and virtuous men of
that country.  There Lysidas, of Tarentum, read his lectures on




CH. III.]             PHILIP OF MACEDON.                     169
philosophy; a science in which Epaminondas was no less eminent,
by the testimony of all antiquity, than he was in the talents of a
great military leader.  It was in the latter character rather than
the former that he served as a model to the young Philip, who,
though of acute talents, had neither the virtues nor the cultivated
mind of the illustrious Theban.  The -abilities of Philip raised him
to the throne, which was then filled by his nephew Amyntas,' the
son of his elder brother Perdiccas.  The Macedonians declared
they wanted not a child, but a man, to be their governor.  If
great military talents, unbounded ambition, with profound political
sagacity, could, in a sovereign, compensate for the want of moral
qualities and the absence of every generous virtue, Philip was not
unwortthy to wear a crown.
Scarcely was he seated on the throne, when he was attacked
from every quarter.  The Illyrians and the Pueonians made inroads
upon his territories.  Two rival princes, Pausanias and Argaeus,
relations of the last monarch, disputed his title, each claiming the
sovereignty for himself.' The Thracians armed for Pausanias, the
Athenians for Argeus.  Philip disarmed the Pwonians by bribes
and promises. The Thracians were Won by a similar policy. He
gained a victory over the Athenians, in which his rival Argmeus lost
his life; and having thus accomplished the security of his title to
the throne, he attained with the people of Athens the character of
extreme moderation and generosity, by sending back to their
country without ransom, all the prisoners he had taken in battle.
In this manner, by the most dexterous policy, he removed a
part of his enemies, that he might have the rest at his mercy.
Hitherto his conduct might in general be justified; for, as yet, his
interest had not prompted him to act a dishonorable part.  No
man wantonly, or through choice, throws away his character.
But Philip knew no other motive of action but his own interest;
and he had no scruples as to the means of accomplishing it.  Artifices of every kind, dissimulation, perfidy, breach of promises, and
oaths, were with Philip the ordinary and the necessary engines of
government.  Corruption was his favorite instrument.  It was a
maxim  of his, that no fortification was impregnable into which a
mule could make its way with a bag of money. Philip, in his
-designs against the liberties of Greece, found occasion to employ
the utmost extent of his political address, and to exercise, alternately every talent of which he was possessed. He had his pensionaries in all the republics, whose care it was to give hin intelligence of every measure, to form a'party in his interest, and on all
occasions when his enterprises were called in question, to justify
his designs and vindicate his proceedings.  In Athens, he had in
this character AEschines the orator devoted to his interest, and two
comedians, Aristodemnus and Neoptolemus, men of high influence
in the public assemblies.  With these illustrious characters in his
interest, Philip was at ease with respect to the Athenians.
VOL. I                     2




170                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK II
In the same manner securing his partisans in the other republics, it was now only necessary to set them at variance with each
other,. that his alliance might be courted, and an opportunity furnished for introducing the Macedonian troops into Greece.  The
miserable policy and imprudence of the principal republics accomplished his wishes, without. giving him even the trouble of an
effort.
The Phocians having ploughed up some of the lands which
belonged to the temple of Apollo, at Delphos, were cited on that
account before the Amphictyonic council, and condemned to pay
a heavy fine.  Instead of submitting to this decree, they now
pretended that the custody of the temple and all its patrimony
belonged of right to them; and they'boldly seized the sacred
edifice with the whole of its treasures.  These proceedings put all
Greece into a flame.  The Phocians had some plausible reasons
to assign in support of their claim; otherwise we cannot suppose
that the Athenians and Spartans would have espoused their cause,
n opposition to most of the other states of Greece, who regarded
their conduct as highly sacrilegious.  The Thebans, the Thessalians, and the Locrians, armed in the cause of Apollo, and took a
most active part in what was termed the sacred wvar.  The spirit
of hostility acquired additional rancor from religious zeal; and both
sides adopted the sanguinary policy of giving no qdarter in battle,
and putting to death their prisoners without mercy.  The Theban
general, Philomelus, found himself in this last predicament, and
seeing no possibility of escaping out of the hands of a body of the
enemy who' had surrounded him, threw himself headlong over a
precipice.
The sacred twar had lasted for some time.  Philip of Macedon
in the meantime was gradually extending his territories, and had
already, by conquest, made himself master of a great part of
Thrace, when the Thessalians implored his assistance against
their tyrant Lycophron, the brother and successor of Alexander of
Phere, whose government they felt yet more intolerable than that
of his predecessor.  The tyrant had sought aid of the Phocians
to support him against his own subjects, who, on their part, were
thus fully justified in courting the assistance of the Macedonians
to protect their liberties.  After several engagements of various
issue, Philip prevailed in driving the Phocians completely out of
Thessaly; and Lycophron, finding himself unable to cope with
the Macdonian power, resigned his sovereignty and put Philip ill
possession of his capital of Pherme.
A short time before this period, his queen, Olympias, the
daughter of Neoptolemus, king of Epirus, was delivered at Pella,
in the first year of the 106th Olympiad (356 B. c.), of a son,
Alexander, justly denominated the Great.  On this event, Philip
wrote to the philosopher Aristotle in these emphatic words, truly
worthy of a king: " Know that a son is born to us.  We thank




cni. IlI.]                DEMOSTHENES.                          171
the gods, first, for their excellent.gift, and, secondly, that it is
bestowed in the age of Aristotle, who, we trust, will render him a
son worthy of his father, and a prince worthy of Macedonia." *
The success'which had hitherto attended the arms and the
policy of Philip inspired him now with the daring ambition of
rendering himself the arbiter and sovereign of Greece.  The
retreat of the Phocians from  Thessaly furnished him  with the
plausible pretext of advancing with his troops to Thermopylae, in.
order to enter the country of Phocis; while his real design was to
secure that important pass, which opened to him the territory of
Attica.  This was a bold attempt; for, no foreign power had ever
passed that gate of Greece, since the defeat of the Persians at
Platiea.  The Athenians were justly alarmed, not less for their
own safety than for the general liberties of the nation; and they.owed the energy of their conduct on this occasion to the manly
eloquence and patriotism of Demosthenes.
Demosthenes, the prince of the Grecian orators, now made the
first display of his eminent talents.  He had no advantages of
birth or education.  His father, a sword-cutler, or, as Juvenal has
termed him, a blacksmith, left him an orphan at the age of seven,
to the care of profligate guardians, who robbed him of his small
patrimony.  But he possessed that native genius which surmounts
every disadvantage of birth or situation. Ambition prompted him
to the study of oratory; for, going one day to the court to hear
the pleadings in some cause of moment, he was so impressed with
the eloquence of Callistratus, and so fired by the popular applause
bestowed on that orator upon his gaining the suit in which he had
pleaded, that he determined from that moment that this should be
his road to eminence and distinction.  No man, in this arduous
course, ever struggled with greater natural obstacles, or more happily over6ame them. His voice was harsh and uncouth, his
articulation indistinct, and his gestures awkward and constrained;
but, sensible of his defects, he labored night and day in private
exercises of elocution, till he completely subdued them; and then,,onfident of his powers, he broke forth at once the most distinguished orator of his age.  He had in this emergency of public
affairs a noble field  of exertion.  On the first intelligence that
Philip was on his march to Thermopylae, Demosthenes ascended
the tribunal in the Ecclesia, and in a most animated harangue?oused the patriotic ardor of his countrymen, by painting to them,
-n striking colors, the ambitious designs of this artful and enter* Aristotle, by birth a Stagyrite, came to Athens at the age of eighteen, and
was for twenty years a scholar of Plato, who died 348 n. c. In the forty-third
year of his age he went to Macedonia, and was for eight years employed in the
education of Alexander; at the end of which period he returned to Athens,
3'35 B. c., and taught for twelve years in the Lyceum. He died in his sixtythird year, 322 B. c., a year after the death of his illustrious pupil




1 7                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK 1I,
prlsilg prince; and urged the absolute necessity of an immediate
and most vigorous effort for the preservation of the national liberty.
HiS eloquence was successful.  The Athenians instantly flew to
arms, and arrived at Thernmopyle in sufficient time to defend the
entry to the straits.  Philip was disconcerted at this unexpected
P:roof of hostility firom the Athenians, with whom fhe had taken
the utmost pains by every means to ingratiate himself; but he was
too prudent to hazard a premature discovery of the extent of his
ambitious views.  He made a plausible pretext for withdrawing
his troops to the northward, and postponed for that time his vengeance against the sacrilegious Phocians.  The Athenians, imposed
on by this politic conduct, began to consider their fears of danger
as altogether groundless, and were lulled into a pleasing dream of
perfect security.
The sacred war had now lasted about ten years; and every campaign had given a fresh acquisition of power to the daring and politic
Macedonian.  Tihe Athenians, finding no advantage on their part,
and heartily tired of hostilities,' which gave too much interruption
to their favorite ease and luxurious enjoyments, sent ambassadors
to Philip with instructions to negotiate a general peace.  But he
bribed the ambassadors, spun out the negotiations, and in the mean
time proceeded in the most vigorous prosecution of the war. This
conduct might have opened the eyes of the Athenians, had not
their corrupted orators; the pensionaries of Philip, labored assiduously to foster their blind security.  "' The interests of Philip (said
Y~schines) are the same with your own.  Why therefore this
groundless jealousy and alarm  at all his motions?  Let him once
pass Thermopylk, and you will see what will be his conduct. His
darling object is the destruction of your enemies.  His design is
to subdue Thebes, that insolent rival of the Athenian power and
sovereignty.  In this enterprise he wishes only to cooperate with
yourselves; and when accomplished, as it speedily must be, by your
joint endeavors, Athens has then the full command of Greece."
This infatuated people were actually the dupes of such chimeras.
The Athenians withdrew their army from  Thermopyle; Philip
poured down like a torrent upon the country of Phocis, and carrying all before him, presented himself at Delphos as the avenger of
Apollo.  He then hastily assembled the Amphictyonic council,
taking care previously. to sound the deputies of the several states,
and to admit only such as were devoted to his interest.  The
assembly, thus prepared, passed a decree which declared the
Phocians to have forfeited their place in that general council,
which henceforth should be supplied by' the king of Macedon,
whom, in consideration of his important services, they appointed
to preside at the Pythian games, jointly with the Thebans and
Thessalians.  Thus, by the most artful policy, Philip had acquired
mhe rights of a naturalized Greek, his dominions of Macedonia now
~ormed a part of the body of the nation, and he had henceforth aa




CH. III.]                DEMIOSTHENES.                       173
undisputed title to take a part in all such measures as regarded the
general and national interests.
From that moment Philip became the arbiter of Greece, and the
umpire in all differences between her contending states. While the
more powerful republics courted his friendship to assist them  in
their ambitious designs against each other, or against the liberty of
the smaller states, these, on the other hand, solicited his protection
to defend their rights against lawless usurpation and tyranny. Others,
again, who fell under neither of these descriptions, but were embroiled with faction at home, besought his aid to compose their domestic
dissensions, and would have cheerfully parted with their liberty to
rid themselves of the miseries of tumult and anarchy.
In this situation of Greece, the politics of Demosthenes, who
incessantly endeavored to rouse the Athenians to a vigorous opposition to the designs of Philip, and incite them to declare open
war against this ambitious prince, have been by some writers censured as imprudent and pernicious; and it is no doubt a truth that
some of the best patriots of Athens, the virtuous Phocion for example, were of this opinion, and proposed an opposite counsel.
They saw that the martial spirit of the republic was extinct, the
finances of the state, were at the lowest ebb, and the manners of
the people irretrievably corrupted.   There was assuredly too
much solidity in the argument of Phocion which he opposed to
the Philippica of Demosthenes: -"I will recommend to you, 0
Athenians, to go to war, when I find you capable of supporting a
war; when I see the youth of the republic animated with courage,
yet submissive and obedient; the rich cheerfully contributing to
the necessities of the state; and the orators no longer cheatirng and
pillaging the public."  But granting the verisimilitude of this degrading picture, was it not a nobler attempt of Demosthenes to
revive the martial spirit, to stimulate by shame- the indolence of
his countrymen, to hold upsin glowing colors to their view the
striking contrast between the days of former glory and of present
disgrace, and to excite to somne great and patriotic exertion for
the recovery of the national honor and the preservation of their
liberties?
1When Athens was thus roused to a vigorous exertion for the
preservation of Grecian freedom, it was surely to be hoped, and
confidently expected, that she was not to stand alone in that noble
effort of patriotism.  But even had none of the other republics
followed her example, and joined her standards, that circumstance,
instead of diminishing, must have signally enhanced her honor, and
afforded the only possible -consolation in the event that the issue
was unprosperous.  "No," said Demosthenes, in a tone of animation which fired the whole assembly, "it can never be to your
reproach that you have braved dangers and death for the safety and
frieedom  of your country.  I swear it by our' brave forefathers,
by the manes of those illustrious men who fell at Marathon, at




174                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK II
Platuea, and at Salamis, by their sacred ashes which sleep with
honor in the public monuments.".  It was in a similar strain of
glowing eloquence that Demosthenes roused the torpid spirits of
his countrymen to a vigorous effort to preserve their independence
against the designs of this artful and ambitious prince; and Philip
had just reason to say that he was more afraid of that man than of
all the fleets and armies of the Athenians. It was highly, theref6re,
to the honor of the Athenians that they listened to the counsels of
this excellent orator, and, however unequal to the contest, determined that they would dearly sell their freedom.  The Thebans
joined, them in this noble resolution, persuaded likewise by the
eloquence of Demosthenes, who went thither as ambassador from
Atheils to form an alliance for their joint interests against the Macedonian.  It was now no shame to court the aid of Persia;.and a
league was formed likewise with the islands of Rhodes, Cos, and
Chios. A fleet was armed under the command of Chares to relieve
Byzantium, then besieged by Philip; -but Chares, of whom the allies
had no favorable opinion, was soon after superseded by Phocion;
for this illustrious man, though in his private judgment more inclined
to peace, was in war justly regarded as the main support of his
country's honor and glory.
Phocion delivered Byzantium  and Perinthus from the yoke of
Macedon, drove Philip out of the Chersonesus, and took se;eral
of his dependent cities.  The Macedonian loudly complained of
the Athenians, as having first commenced hostilities; and the artful
dissembler, still further to preserve a show of moderation, requested a renewal of the peace.  A negotiation for that purpose was
prolonged by him. for two years.  Demosthenes. still raised his
voice for war.  It was upon this occasion that the Athenians, having consulted the Delphian oracle, which advised them  to make,
peace, Demosthenes, in an animated harangue, openly insinuated
that the oracle was corrupted, by declaring that the Pythia Philippized.  The eloquence of the orator prevailed over the counsel of
the hireling priestess, and the Athenians took the field in great
force, joined by the Thebans and their other allies.'It was the
interest of Philip, who had long wished, and, consequently, prepared himself for a fair trial of strength, to bring his enemy as soon
as possible to a general engagement.  This the Athenians ought of
course to have as earnestly avoided; but the disunion of counsels
which commonly attend allied armies, was the cause of a fatal
resolution to abide a decisive issue.. This took place in the field
of Cheronea.
The Macedonian army amounted to 30,000 foot and 2000
horse; that of the Athenians and their allies was nearly equal in
number.  The left wing of the Macedonians was, commanded by
X Demosth. Orat. pro Corona.




eHl. III.]          BlATTLE OF CHAIRONEA.                 175
the young Alexander, and it was his fortune to be opposed by
that body of the Thebans called the sacred band; the courage of
the combatants on both sides was therefore inflamed by a high
principle of honor.   The attack of Alexander was impetuous
beyond all description, but was sustained with the most determined
bravery on the part of the Thebans; and had the courage and
conduct of their allies given them an adequate support, the fortune
of the day wo~uld probably have been fatal to the Macedonians;
nut, unaided by the timely codperation of the main body of the
Greeks, the sacred band were left alone to sustain this desperate
assault, and they fought till the whole of these noble Thebans lay
dead upon the field. The Athenians, however, on their part, had
made a most vigorous attack on the centre of the Macedonian army,
and broke and put to flight a great body of the enemy.   Philip,
at the head of his formidable phalanx, was not engaged in the
fight, but coolly withheld his attack till he saw the Greeks pursuing their success against the centre with a tumultuous impetuosity.
Hle then charged them in tte rear with the whole strength and
solidity of his phalanx opposed to their deranged and disorderly
battalions.  The aspect of affairs was now quite changed, and the
Grecian army, after a desperate conflict, was broken and entirely
put to flight.  Two thousand Greeks were made prisoners, and
Philip  gained the praise of  great clemency by checking the
slaughter of the Athenians and sparing the lives of all his captives.
It was now his policy to soothe and conciliate the minds of that
people whom he wished henceforth to rule as a legitimate soveveign. This decisive engagement, which, in its immediate consel}uences, put an end to the liberties of Greece, was fought in the
year 338 before Christ.
The Athenians sought a desperate consolation in attributing
their defeat at Cheronea to the fault of their generals Lysidas
and Chares.  The former they condemned to death; the latter
owed his life to the boldness and intrepidity with which he made
his dbfence.
Demosthenes had fled from the field of battle; so different is
speculative from active courage.  Yet the merits of this illustrious
man were not forgotten, though the issue of his counsels had been
unsuccessful.  He was entrusted by the Athenians with the charge
of rebuilding the walls of the city, and a crown of gold was decreed
to him, at the suggestion of Ctesiphon, as the' reward of his public services.  This mark of honor excited the jealousy of his rival
]schines, and gave rise to that famous controversy E81 _reTCeYPVOV
(i. e. concerning the crown) —which produced two of the. most
animated orations that are preserved to us of the composition of
the ancients. Demosthenes came off triumphant, and his opponent was banished from his country. Cicero, in his third book
"CDe Oratore," c. 56, has recorded a very beautiful anecdote on
this occasion.  IEschines, in exile among the Rhodians, amused




176                   UNIVERSAL HrISTORY.            [BOOK II.,
himself with reciting to that people some of his own orations.
Among others, he rehearsed to them  that which he had spoken
against Demosthenes in the cause of the crown.  The Rhodians
expressed a desire to hear what his opponent had answered to a
composition so powerful and convincing.  He then read to them,
with proper modulation of voice and emphasis, the oration of
Demosthenes, which, when they had all united in admiring"'Think now, my friends," said he, " how much greater must have
been your admiration had you heard that extraordinary man himself recite this masterly composition."  A singular instance indeed
of his generosity of mind, who could thus do justice to the merits
of a rival, whose success and triumph had been the cause of his
own disgrace.
It may be justly said that of all those sciences which deserve
the name of manly or truly dignified, eloquience was the only one
which yet continued to flourish in Greece.
After the battle of Chaeronea hll the states of Greece submitted
to the conqueror.  But it was not the, policy of Philip to treat
them as a conquered people.  He knew that the Greeks must be
very cautiously managed. He endeavored to withdraw their minds
firom all idea of the degraded condition to which they were now
reduced.  His views had pointed to a greater object of ambition
than the sovereignty of Greece; and in proposing to them the con
quest of Persia, he withdrew their attention from the galling thought
of their own servitude, while he flattered their self-consequence by
making the Greeks the partners in his own schemes of extensive
dominion. It was a natural preparatory measure to appoint Philip the
generalissimo of the nation.
At this period the Persian monarchy was embroiled with the
revolt of several of the provinces.  Ochus had reduced them  less
by force of arms than by corrupting and bringing over to his interest the heads of the rebellion.  Mentor of Rhodes delivered up
to him the Sidonians, who, when they discovered that they were
betrayed, set fire to their city and perished in the flames.  The
dreadful catastrophe was followed by the submission of all Phoenicia; and Cyprus, which had likewise revolted, returned soon
after to its allegiance.  Mentor's services were rewarded by the
Persian monarch with the government of all the Asiatic coasts.
Ochus did not long enjoy the pacification of his empire.  Bagoas,
a favorite eunuch, pioisoned him and all his children, except Arses,
the youngest, whose infancy afforded the murderer the prospect of
governing Persia as his tutor; but dreading the punishment of his
crimes, he thought it his safest policy to raise to the throne a
prince of the royal blood, Darius, surnamed Codomannus, who is
said to have been the.grandson of Darius Nothiis.
Such was the state of Persia when Philip prepared for his
great enterprise, by sending his lieutenants Attalus and Parmenio
nto Asia. As usual before all expeditions of importance, he con



pHe. V.]               DEATH OF PHILIP.                    177
suited the Delphic oracle, and received the following response,
equally applicable to the prosperous or unsuccessful event of the
war:- The bull is ready crowned; his end approaches, and he
woill soon  be sacrificed.  "The prophecy," said Philip, I"is quite
clear: the bull is the monarch of Persia."  The prediction speedily found its accomplishmlent, but Philip himself was the victim.
While engaged in celebrating a magnificent festival on the marriage of his daughter Cleopatra with the king of Epirus, and
walking in solemn procession to the temple, he was struck into
the heart with a dagger by Pausanias, a noble youth who had
been brutally injured by* Attalus, the brother-in-law of Philip
and to whom  that prince had refused to do justice.  Philip had
in the latter period of his reign degraded himself by some strong
acts of tyranny, the fruit of an uncontrolled indulgence of vicious
appetites. As the pretext of a divorce from his queen Olympias,
the mother of Alexander, he threw the most unjust suspicions upon
her character, and drove her son from court in disgust at the conduct of his father,  who now assumed Cassandra, the niece of
Attalus, who had captivated him by the charms of her person,
into the place of his injured queen.  The disgust which Alexander
justly conceived at these proceedings, encouraged a suspicion, for
which, however, there are no solid grounds, that he was privy to
the design of Pausanias.
The Athenians, with much meanness, expressed, on occasion
of Philip's death, the most tumultuous joy.  A solemn sacrifice
of thanksgiving was offered to the gods, and a crown of gold
decreed to Pausanias in reward of his services to the nation.  It
is probable that a gleam  of hope arose.from  this event that the
liberty of Greece might yet be recovered; but they were strangers
at this time to the character of that youth who now succeeded to
the throne of Macedonia.
CHAPTER IV.
ALEXANDER THiE GREAT takes and destroys Thebes -Submission of the Gre.
cian States-Alexander declared General of the Armies of Greece-Battle
of the Granicus -Issus-Siege of Tyre -Expedition into Egypt-Battle of
Arbela —Alexander at Persepolis-Expedition to India-Return to Susa —
Enters Babylon, and dies -Division of his Empire-Kingdom of Egypt-of
Syria.
ALEXANDER was in the twentieth year of his age when he succeeded, by the death of Philip, to the throne of Macedonia   This
VOL. 1,                 23




178                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK A.i
prince, possessed of all the military abilities of his father, inherited
a soul more truly noble, and an ambition yet more unbounded.
He had from  his infancy given proofs of that singular heroism of
character, which marked the conqueror of the eastern world.  To
extraordinary endowments of nature he had joined all the advan
tages of education.  Under the tutelage of the philosopher Aris
totle, he imbibed not only a taste for learning and the sciences,
but those excellent lessons of politics, in which that great teache;'
was qualified, beyond all his contemporaries, to instruct him.
On the first intelligence of the death of Philip, the Greeks, and
particularly the citizens of Athens, exhibited that pitiful exultation,
which only evinced,their own pusillanimity.  The Macedoniara
heir they regarded as a mere boy, from whom the liberties of
Greece could never be in serious hazard; as he would, they conceived, find sufficient employment both for his policy ana prowess
in securing the stability of his hereditary throne against domestic
faction.  Lest, however, the example of Philip might encourage
his son to similar schemes of ambition, the Atthenians thought it a
prudent measure to form an offensive and defensive league with
several of the Grecian states, against the new king of Macedonia,
with the view of maintaining entire the national independence'.
Alexander beheld these measures in silence: the time was not yet
come fbr the full display of that great plan of empire,' which his
comprehensive mind had formed.  The Thracians, however, with
the Pweonians and Illyrians, having made the death of Philip the
signal of emancipation from the newly imposed yoke of Macedon,
Alexander made the first essay of his arms against these barbarous
nations, whose revolt he chastised with the most signal severity.*
The Greeks were speedily roused from their dream of security~
but their surprise was extreme when they beheld the Macedonian
pour down with his army upon Boeotia, and present himself at the
gates of Thebes.  The Thebans, on a false report of his death in
Battle against the Illyrians, had expelled the Macedonian garrison,
and put to death its commanders, Amyntas and Timolaus.  Alexander offered pardon to the city on condition of absolute submission, and the delivering up of the principal offenders.  The
Thebans were obstinate, and the consequence was, that Thebes.
was taken by storm, and abandoned to the fury of the Macedonian troops, who plundered and destroyed it.  Six thousand of
the inhabitants were put to the sword, and thirty thousand sold
to slavery. The priests, however, with their families, were treated
with reverence; and while the streets and fortifications of the city
were reduced to a mass of ruins, the conqueror showed his respect
to the memory of Pindar, by preserving from  destruction the
great poet's house, which was still occupied by his descendants.' For ample details of this, and of all the subsequent campaigns of Alexander
see' vol. iii. of the Family Library.




H. - IV.]           ALEXANDER THE GREAT.                   179
This exemplary severity struck terror throughout all Greece.
The Athenians, elevated with the smallest glimpse of good fortune,
were the first to show an abasement of spirit.  They had received,
after the fall of Thebes, a part of the fugitive citizens.  For this
act of huwIanity they now thought it necessary to apologize, by
sending an embassy to Alexander, to deprecate his wrath, and to
assure him of their sincere desire to maintain a friendly alliance.
The Macedonian, contemning themn the more for the meanness of
this behavior, made a peremptory demand that they should deliver
up to him  the persons of Demosthenes, Lycurgus, and six others
of the principal demagogues, to whose seditious harangues he
attributed the hostile spirit they had shown to all his measures.
Hie did not, however, wish to push matters to extremity.  The
business was finally compromised by' a public decree, by which
the Athenians pledged themselves to institute a strict inquiry into
the alleged ground of offence, and to inflict such punishment as
the crimes, if proved, should merit.
The submission of Athens was followed by friendly embassies,
and offers of peace and alliance from all the states of Greece.
Alexander now summoned a general council of deputies, from all
the several republics, to assemble at Corinth, with the purpose of
deliberating on a measure which regarded their common interests
and honor.  Here he formally intimated to them his design of
following out the great project of his father, the conquest of Persia.
The design was flattering to the Greeks, who had ever regarded
the Persians as an irreconcilable enemy, the object of hereditary
hatred and jealousy; and in whose destruction they pleased themselves with the prospect of regaining the honorable ascendency
they had once enjoyed above all the contemporary nations. Animated with this feeling, they received the pi;oposal of Alexander
with exultation; and already anticipating the triumphs to be gained
under his banners, they hailed him commander-in-chief of the
united armies of Greece.
The preparations commenced by Philip were continued  by
Alexander during the few months of winter that preceded the
opening of this important campaign; but active as we may believe
those preparations were, they bore no proportion to the magnitude
of the enterprise.  In fact, the chief prospect of its success arose,
not firom the strength of the invader, but from the weakness of the
invaded empire.  We have already remarked* the very defective
system of government in this extensive monarchy, and the total
want of all principle of union between the members of so vast a
body.  The people, over w'hom their governors or satraps tyrannized with the most absolute authority, were quite indifferent to
any changes that might take place in the seat of empire. Thus
* See Chapter II. of this book, toward the conclusion




180                   lNvEYRsAL IsUTORY9             [L'oK 
we have seen an eunuch depose and put to death one monarch
with all his descendants, and place another oni the throne, without
producing any other effects than might have followed in other
kingdoms upon a sovereign changing his first minister.  The truth
is, that the general peace of the empire had ever arisen out of its
general weakness.  The provinces had as little communication
with each other as they had with the capital; and these separate
and independent bodies had not even the slight bond of union
which arises from a common religion.  A despot of high spirit and
a vigorous mind might have kept in order this discordant mass -
but such was not the character of the present monarch.  Darius
Codomannus, who owed his elevation to the eunuch Bagoas, was
a prince possessed of many amiable qualities-of a gentle and
humane disposition; who might have swayed with honor a pacific
sceptre, in a nation enjoying a good political constitution, and
governed by wholesome laws; but he was neither qualified to fill
the throne of Persia, nor to be the antagonist of Alexander.
This prince, who, in all his enterprises, never indulged a doubt
of his success, set out for Persia in the beginning of spring, at the
head of an army of thirty-five thousand men, and furnished with
provisions only for a single month. He had committed to Antipater
the government of Macedonia, in his absence. With this inconsiderable army, but excellently disciplined, and commanded by
many brave and able officers,- who had gained experience under
the banner of his father Philip, he arrived in six days' march at
the passage of the Hellespont, and crossed the narrow sea without
opposition.  While traversing Phrygia, he is reported to have
visited the tomb of Achilles; and, in an apostrophe to the shade
of that great warrior, is said to have expressed his envy of his happiness, who in life enjoyed the comfort of a faithful firiend, and
after his death had his name immortalized by the greatest of
poets.
Darius, on the first intelligence of the advance of Alexander
with this trifling force, resolved to crush at once this inconsiderate
young man, and despatched immediately an army of 100,000 foot
and 10,000 horse, to the banks of the Granicus, a small river of
Mysia, which discharges itself into the Propontis.  This measure
of the Persian monarch was contrary to the opinion of his ablest
generals, who counselled him to follow a more protracted plan of
warfare.  They advised him to lay waste the provinces through
which lay the course of the Macedonian army, and to limit all his
attacks to a skirmishing warfare, merely with the view of harassing
and wearing out the enemy by fatigue and want of provisions.
This is said to have been the counsel of Miemnon, Darius's ablest
general; who proposed at the same time to conduct an army to
Greece and Macedonia, to retaliate upon the invaders in their own
territory.  But when Darius compared his own force and resources
with thlose of his antagonist, it wore with him the aspect of a mean




E.]        E BATICLE OLF THE GRANICUSl 81
and dastardly policy, to ruin some of the finest provinces of his
empire in the hope of starving the army of his antagonist, instead
of manfully encountering him in the field.  The latter advice, of
making a diversion in Macedonia, was more suitable to a manly
spirit, and it was accordingly adopted.
Meantime, the Persians, under the command of the Satrap of
Plrygia, were drawn up in formidable array upon the eastern bank
of the Granicus, to oppose the passage of the Greeks.  The river
is of inconsiderable breadth and depth, but of great rapidity.  The
Macedonians, therefore, with judicious precaution, entered the ford
a great way higher than the place of the opposite shore on which
they meant to land; and crossing in an oblique direction, had the,
aid of the stream impelling forward their ranks, while its current
gave a powerful obstruction to the enemy's entering the river and
disputing with them the passage of the ford.  Thus a large body of
the Grecian army crossed the stream, with no other annoyance than
what arose from the missile weapons of the Persians, and the spears
that met the first ranks on gaining the opposite shore.  No sooner,
however, had these made good their ground, and by the spirit of
their attack given full occupation to the opposing Persians, than the
amainr body of the Grecian  army passed without resistance.  The
contest was not long doubtful.  The Persians are allowed to have
fought with great courage; but such Swas the impression made by
the determined resolution and intrepidity of the Greeks, while Alexander himself led them  on against the thickest ranks of the
enemy, that the Persian army was broken and put to flight, before
the rear of the Grecian forces had passed the river.  According
to the account of Arrian, 10,000 of the Persian infantry and 2500'
horse were slain in the battle of the Granicus. Among these were
many officers of distinguished valor and ability.  The loss of the
Greeks amounted to the trifling number of eighty-five horsemen
and thirty infantry.  These were next day buried with their arms,
all in the same grave. The rich spoils of the Persian army Alexander sent home to Macedonia, to be presented to his mother, as
the first fruits of his success; and to Athens he sent 300 Persian
slhields, with this message, that these were the trophies of a victory
gained by the Greeks under his command, over their ancient ene-.ies.
This first and important victory facilitated to Alexander the
conquest of all the lesser Asia.  Sardis, the capital of the ancient
Lydian kingdom, submitted without opposition, and Miletus and
}Halicarnassus, after a short but vigorous defence, opened their
gates to the conqueror.  Deriving a presage of continued victory
from his first successes, Alexander now sent orders to his fleet to
return to Macedonia, thus leaving to his little army one only alternative, that they must conquer or perish.  Memnon, in the mean
time, had sailed with a body of Persian troops to the coast of
Greece. Hle began by an assault upon some of the islands. iHe




182                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BooK Al,
made himself master of Chios, and of the greater part of Lesbos;
and had laid siege to Mitylene, its chief city, whence he proposed
to pass into Eubaea, and thence into Attica.  This well concerted
diversion might, in all probability, have checked the progress of
Alexander in Asia.  But the death of Memnon destroyed this
promising scheme; and the armament returned without effect to
the coast of Phenicia.
Alexander pursuing his course through the lower Asia, it was
the counsel of Darius's best officers, that he should await his approach in the plains of Assyria, where there might be ample space
for bringing into action the whole of his immense force; hut this
advice was too mortifying to the pride of the monarch of Persia,
who, though of mild and gentle manners, was a man of high spirit
and of great personal courage.  He was impatient to check the
presumption of Alexander, and, advancing to meet him, rashly
entered the passes between. the mountains of Cilicia, near the
town of Issus; a situation where, from the natdre of the ground,
the greatest part of his army, if then attacked, could not possibly
be brought to act with effect against the enemy.  Alexander,
thougfl then weakened by disease- (the consequence of a fever
caught by imprudently bathing, when overheated, in the river
Cydnus) - no sooner received intelligence of the critical situation
of the Persians in the defiles of a mountainous country, than he
hastened with the utmost ardor to attack them.  Arrian, Quintus
Curtius, and Plutarch, have all given different statements of the
number of the Persian army at the battle of Issus; but the lowest
of these accounts make the number amount to 400,000.   The
same historians have lavished all the powers of description in painting the splendor, riches, and magnificence of the military equipage
of this immense host.  That body of the Persians named the Immortals, consisted of 10,000 chosen troops, who were clothed in
robes of gold embroidery, adorned with precious stones, and wore
about their necks massy collars of pure gold.  The chariot of
Darius was supported by statues of gold; and the beams, axle,
and wheels, were studded with precious stones.  Ten thousand
horsemen followed the chariot with lances plated with silver.
The mother and the wife of Darius had their separate chariots,
attended by a numerous train of females on horseback; and the
pageant was closed by a vast retinue of the wives of the Persian
nobles and their children, guarded by some companies of foot
lightly armed.
Darius, caught thus at unawares, in the mountains of Cilicia,
with this immense but most inefficient force, was taught, in the
battle of Issus, how little confidence is to be placed in numbers,
when matched against a few experienced and well-disciplined
troops.  The Persians were defeated with immense slaughter,
their loss amounting, as is said, to 110,000 men, while that of th
Macedonians, according to Diodorus and Quintus Curtius, was no




c  XEV]                quiNTrus CURTIUS.                     18$
more than 450.  Darius himself displayed great personal courage.  He fought from his chariot till his horses were wounded,
and its course obstructed by the heaps of dead which covered
the ground.
I" cannot omit observing here, with regard to the history of
Alexander written by Quintus Curtius, that, although it is one of
the most elegant works that remain to us of the compositions of
antiquity, its authority is not to be put on a par with -that of Arrian
or Diodorus. All accounts, indeed, of the exploits of Alexander,
must wear an air of the marvellous; for many even of those facts
which we know to be strictly true are in themselves prodigious.
This consideration; which has rendered Diodorus and Arrian the
more cautious in admitting nothing into their narratives but what
rested on the strictest historical evidence, has served with Curtius
only as a temptation and license for amplification and embellishmel.t.  Yet it must be owned that some of those embellishments
are in themselves so pleasing, that we can scarcely wish them to
have been spared.  Such, among others, is that admirable and
strongly characteristic oration which- Curtius puts into the mouth
of the Scythian chief, addressing himself to Alexander: such is
that beautiful scene which Curtius describes to have passed in the
tent of Darius, after the battle of Issus; the error of Sysagambis,
the queen-mother, who addressed herself to Hephastion, mistaking
hin for Alexander; the fine saying on that occasion of Alexander,'on errasti, mater, nam  et hic.lexander est; circumstances,
indeed, which Arrian likewise relates, though not with the assurance of their perfect authenticity.' There is, says he, such a
dignity in the expression, that if we cannot rest on the story as
a certainty, we ought at least to wish it to be true.  To the honor
of Alexander, it must be owned, that generosity was a strong
ingredient in his nature; and that the humane affections, though
at times overpowered, and apparently extinguished in the heat of
passion, certainly formed a part of his genuine character.  To the
mother, and.to the kindred of Darius, he behaved with the respect
and kindness of a son and of a brother, a conduct which made
a deep impression on the mind of that generous and ill-fated
prince.
Darius, with a few scattered remains of his army, had made a
precipitate retreat during the night, and, taking his course eastward,
crossed the Euphrates at Thapsacus.  His empty war-chariot and
cloak falling into the hands of the Macedonians, gave rise to a
report of his death, xyhich threw his queen and the captive princesses into agonies of despair.  But Alexander hastened to undeceive them, and calmed their agitated minds by repeated assurances
of his clemency and protection. He received, a few days after
the battle, a deputation from  Darius, conceived, as he thought, in
a strain of pride unsuitable to the present circumstances of that
prince.   The Persian demanded that his wife and the captive




184                    UNIIVERSAL IHSTORY.            [BOOR ]I
princesses should be immediately restored on payment of a ransom;
and declared his resolution to bring into the field an army that should
fully repair his late disasters~ Alexander replied, that when his
antagonist should think proper to throw himself on the mercy of his
conqueror, he would then convince him that he needed no bribe to
excite him to an act of humanity.
The consequence of the battle of Issus was the submission of
all Syria. The city of Damascus, where Darius had deposited a
large part of the royal treasures, was betrayed by its governor and
given up to Parmenio, who found in it above 300 of Darius's concubines, and many of the officers of the king's household.  The
Phoenicians had suffered much oppression under the Persian yoke,
and were thus glad to be emancipated from its tyranny.  Strato,
the king or governor of Sidon, attempted in vain to maintain his
province in its allegiance; he was deposed, and Alexander having
allowed his favorite Hephwestion to dispose of the crown, he conferred it on Abdolonymus, a man of great worth and virtue, and
of illustrious and even royal descent; but whom misfortunes had
reduced to seek a subsistence by manual labor.
Alexander had hitherto borne his good fortune with singular and
becoming moderation. Happy, says Curtius, had this moderation
attended him through life; but prosperity had not yet corrupted
his ingenuous mind.  Felix, si hac contirnentid ad ultinmum vitce
perseverare potuisset; sed nondurn Fortuna se animo ejus infuderat.
He now directed his course towards Tyre; and desired to.be
admitted into the city to perform a solemn sacrifice to Hercules.
The Tyrians sent him a golden crown, as a token of their respect
and amity, but' refused his request; declaring their purpose of
observing a neutral conduct, and maintaining their liberty, while
the fate of the Persian empire was in dependence.  This city was
of importance to Alexander, as a strongly fortified station, which
gave him free access to the sea from all the neighboring coast.
His pride, too, was piqued, and he determined to make himself
master of the place, at whatever cost.  The city was situated on
a small island, about half a mile from the main land.  It was fortified by a wall of immense strength, and of 150 feet in height,
leaving no space between its base and the sea which surrounded
it on every side.  It was, therefore, unassailable from the quarter
of the land, unless by filling up the intermediate distance by a
mole or pier, extending from the shore to the foot of the walls.
This operation, the more difficult that the water was of considerab'ie depth, was resolutely undertaken by the Macedonians. The
labor and the fatigue attendant on its execution were incredible, for
they had to do with an enemy, whose spirit and resolution were
equal to their own, and who possessed every advantage that the
strength and height of their fortifications, as well as a numerous
armament of galleys, could give them for annoying the assailants




CH  IV.]              FALL OF TYRE AND GAZA.                     185
the works were destroyed  as soon as reared; nor could  the
Macedonians ever have succeeded in their enterprise, had they
not collected from all the neighboring sea-ports now under their
control, a naval force to beat off the Tyrian galleys, and thus protect the operations of the besieging army.   By incredible perseverance, the mole was at length completed, in the seventh month
of the siege: the engines of the Greeks assailed the walls on one
side,. while the ships of war made a vigorous attack on one of the
piers of the city in the opposite quarter. A large breach was at
length effected, and the Macedonians entered the city, putting all
to the sword who opposed them.  The detail of this seige by
Arrian is one of the most interesting narratives which the writings
of the ancients have preserved to us.
Alexander, incensed at the opposition he had met with, and the
losses his army had sustained, forgot his usual clemency. He ordered the city to be burnt to the ground; 8000 of the inhabitants had
been put to the sword, in the final assault and entry of the Macedonians; of the prisoners taken with arms in their hands, 2000
were crucified, and the rest, to the amount of 30,000, sold as
slaves.   The conduct of Alexander was yet more inhuman on
the taking of Gaza, which immediately followed the capture and
demolition of Tyre.* That city was deemed impregnable, from
its elevated situation on the summit of a steep hill, and from  the
great strength of its fortifications.  It was yet better defended by
its garrison, and the intrepidity of its commander, Betis, who
resolved to resist the invaders t the last extremity.  The military
engines employed against Tyre were now planted against the
fortifications of Gaza.  In a sally from  the town, the besieged set
fire to the works of the Greeks, and in a desperate conflict,.attended with  great slaughter on both  sides, Alexander himself
was dangerously wounded in the shoulder by a heavy dart thrown
from  a catapult.  At length, after repeated assaults, the city was
taken by storm, and its brave inhabitants perished almost to a man.
The governor, Betis, whose noble defence of his country was
*It is proper here to mention, that Josephus is the only writer who relates
an extraordinary scene between Alexander and the high-priest of the Jews.
This historian informs us, that, after the taking of Tyre, the conqueror pursued
his course to Jerusalem, which had incurred his resentment, from the refusal
to furnish supplies to his army during the siege of Tyre. Jaddua, the highpriest of the Jews, arrayed in his pontifical vestments, went forth to meet him
in solemn procession. The king, as is said, no sooner beheld this venerable
figure, who wore a mitre inscribed on the front with the sacred name of Jehovah, than he prostrated himself at his feet.  His courtiers expressing their
surprise and even offence at this, which they deemed a degrading conduct in
their sovereign, " Do not wonder," said he, " at what you now see; this same
venerable man appeared to me at Dium, in Macedonia, and assured me that
the God whom he served would give me the sovereignty of the Persian empire."
It is a sufficient confutation of this story to remark, that neither Arrian nor any
other of the professed historians of Alexander make the smallest mention of it.
See L'Examen Critique des Histoires d' lexandre.
VOL. I.                          24




186                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK IL-.
worthy of the applause even of an enemy, was dragged round the
walls of the city at the wheels of Alexander's chariot.  " The
king," says Curtius, "'gloried that, in this instance, he imitated
the example of his progenitor Achilles, in the vengeance he took
on the dead body of Hector."
Darius had sent a second embassy to Alexander, while he was
engaged in the siege of Tyre.  The Persian now assumed a hulmbler tone.  He offered ten thousand talents for the ransom of his
mother and his queen, and he agreed to give Alexander his
daughter Statira in marriage, with all the Asiatic provinces to the
westward of the Euphrates for her portion.  When these terms
were made known to the Macedonian officers, Parmenio could
not help remarking, that, were he Alexander, he would not hesitate a moment to accept of them: " And I," replied the king,
"' might think so too, were I Parmenio."
The views of Alexander were now directed to the conquest of
Egypt.  In a council of war which he held after the taking of
Tyre, he laid open to his officers the plan of policy which directed
his measures, both in the making himself master of the whole
coast of Phmonicia and of Egypt-measures which appear at first
sight to be deviations from his principal object, the reduction of
the Persian empire.  He wisely judged that the main obstacle to
the accomplishment of this end was the naval force of the Persians
and the command they had both of the Phoenician and Egyptian
sea-coasts, along with the isle of Cyprus, whence they could at
all times, from a variety of quarters, make attacks upon Greece
and Macedonia.  Of the allegiance of the Greeks Alexander had
no assurance.  The  Spartans were openly hostile to his sovereignty.  In these circumstances, it was obviously his wisest plan
to secure, in the first place, the dominion of the sea; when this
wgs once attained, the conquest of Persia, already half achieved,
appeared an object which might be accomplished with ease.
In prosecution of these views, Alexander, after leaving a strong
garrison in Gaza, directed his course to Egypt. The whole
country submitted without opposition.  At Memphis, he made a
solemn sacrifice to the Egyptian gods, acknowledging their afflnity to the deities of Greece; a stroke of wise policy which had a
great effect in conciliating the allegiance of the people to their new
sovereign. In the same views he planned and founded a great
city at the mouth of the Nile, to which he gave his own name; a
situation so happily chosen, and with such advantages of nature,
that within the space of twenty years, Alexandria rose to great
wealth and consequence, and has ever since maintained its rank
among the first commercial sea-ports both in ancient and in modern
times. Above twentylother cities bearing the name of Alexandria
were reared in the course of Alexander's various expeditions.  It
is such works as these which justly entitle the Macedonian to the
epithet of Great.  By the- cities which he built, by rearing in the




PH. IV.]             BATTLE OF ARBELAo                    187
midst of deserts those nurseries of population and of industry, he
repaired the waste and havoc *of his conquests.  Without those
monuments of his real glory, posterity might have agreed in bestowing on him an epithet synonymous to that by which he is yet
known among the bramins of India-the mighty Mlurderer.
The next enterprise of Alexander, although it has furnished
opposite constructions, was probably the fruit of the same extended policy which regulated all the designs of this extraordinary
man.  In a beautiful and fertile spot in the interior of Lybia, surrounded on all sides by immense deserts, stood the temple of
Jupiter Ammon, whose oracle had the same authority and fame
among the African and Asiatic nations that the temple of Delphos
enjoyed in Greece. Alexander had always encouraged a popular
superstitious belief, which he found eminently subservient to his
schemes of ambition, that he owed his own birth to an intrigue of
Jupiter with his mother Olympias.  The wiser part of his subjects,
no doubt, treated this fiction with the ridicule it deserved; but it
seemed an object of moment to give it force and credit with the
multitude, and in particular with the barbarous nations against
whom his enterprises were directed.  Nothing seemed so proper
to this end as the voice of the Lybian oracle, the testimony of
Jupiter himself, acknowledging the king for his genuine offspring.
The difficulties of the enterprise, in conducting a great army
through an hundred leagues 6f sandy desert, weighed nothing in
the scale with such an object.  He secretly procured every necessary information regarding his route, and even employed guides
without the knowledge of his army, that he might appear solely
conducted by the aid of heaven to the meritorious and pious object
of his journey.  Two dragons, according to Ptolemy, or two
ravens, as Aristobulus related, were the sole directors of his'course.
The oracle was prudently instructed and prepared for his reception, and the enterprise (of course) ended to his wish, in a direct
and solemn acknowledgment of his heavenly descent.
Returning from his African expedition, Alexander now traversed
Assyria, and, passing the Tigris and Euphrates without opposition,
came up with the Persian monarch at the head of 700,000 men,
near to the village of Arbela.  Before assembling this immense
army, Darius had again earnestly solicited for peace.  He offered
to Alexander, along with his daughter, a -still greater cession of
territory, and the sum of 10,000 talents: but the ambition of the
Macedonian was unbounded, and he rejected all terms but those
of implicit submission.  The Macedonian army did not exceed
40,000 men. It was towards the close of day when they came
in sight of the prodigious host of the Persians, which extended
over an immense plain to the utmost distance that the eye could
reach. Even some of Alexander's bravest officers were appalled
with this sight, and Parmenio counselled him, as his wisest plan,
to attack them in the night, when the inequality of numbers




188:                UNIVERSAL HISTORY                [BOOK II.
might be the less seen and felt on both sides.  But Alexander,
with more sagacity, conjectured that the Persians would prepare
themselves against such an attack, and that it was a better policy
to wait till the day-break, when they would find their enemy exhausted with the fatigue of watching during the night under arms,
while his own troops, with proper attention to their necessary
refreshment, would encounter them with vigor and alacrity.
The issue corresponded with this sagacious foresight.   The
attack was made at day-break with an ardor and impetuosity on
the part of the Greeks, which, in the first onset, threw the foremost ranks of the Persian army back in confusion upon the main
body, and completely restrained and rendered ineffectual its operations.  Disorder, once begun, was propagated like an electrical
shock through the whole mass, and the decisive victory at Arabela
was purchased even with less effort than had- attended the contest
at Issus, or that on. the banks of the Granicus.  The numbers
of the Persians that fell at Arbela are estimated by Arrian at
300,000, while the loss of the Macedonians did not exceed 1200.
Darius now fled from province to province, while the whole
country submitted to the conqueror.  In this situation, the ill-fated
monarch, a fugitive, abandoned by his troops and closely pursued
by Alexander, was finally betrayed by Bessus, one of his own
satraps.  HIe dismissed a body of Greeks who were his guards,
and whoj from personal attachment, followed him through all his
disasters, lest the preference shown to foreign soldiers might
offend his native subjects.  In this deserted situation, he was surprised and assassinated by;Bessus.  Polystratus, a Macedonian,
received his last words, which-were an expression of gratitude to
Alexander for. the humane treatment he had bestowed on his
mother, his wife, and his children.  There is a chasm in the narrative of Quintus Curtius at that passage which relates the death
of Darius, and it has been supplied by some one of his editors
upon the authority of Plutarch.  The inserted passage is singularly beautiful, and altogether worthy of the pen of an ancienit
classic.  It informs us that Polystratus having gone aside to a
fountain to quench his thirst, saw  hard by a mean wagon, in
which lay a wounded man, to appearance in the agonies of death.
There was no attendant near.  On approaching, he perceived that
it was the king of the Persians, who lay stretched upon a skin,
covered with wounds:  When Polystratus came near, he opened
his eyes, and feebly asked of him a draught of water, which when
he had received, " Whoever thou art," said he, "who hast done
me this office of humanity, it is the last of my misfortunes that I
can offer thee no return.  But Alexander will requite thee for it;
and may the gods reward him for that generous compassion which,
though an enemy, he has shown to me and to my unfortunate kindred.  Take," said he, " this hand as the pledge of my gratitude."
So saying, he grasped the hand of Polystratus, and immediately




CiH. IV.]                  LEXANDER. -                      189
expired.*  Such was the end of Darius Codomannus:  Quid
hujus conditione inconstantius aut mutabilius, qui nuper inter
felices felicissimus, mox inter miseros miserrimnts!  Of this prince
it may be truly said that he merited a better fate.  The tender
and humane affections formed a strong ingredient in his nature.
When we consider him stripped of his dominions, his crown and
life sacrificed to the insatiable ambition of an unprovoked invaderto forgive was much; but an emotion of gratitude to that enemy,
expressed with his latest breath, indicated a generosity of soul
which is scarcely to be paralleled.
Alexander was now master of the Persian empire.  Hie passed
from Babylon to Susa, and thence to Persepolis.  But the immense
riches, of which his army now made their spoil, corrupted and
relaxed the military discipline.  The Macedonians assumed the
Asiatic manners; and Alexander himself gave way without restraint
to every species of debauchery and intemperance.  In the madness of intoxication, he set fire to the royal palace of Persepolis,
at the instigation of the courtesan Thais, who boasted that a
woman had better avenged the injuries the Persians had done the
Greeks than all their generals.  Daily instances of the most unbounded vanity, and even of cruelty and ingratitude, disgraced the
conqueror of the East.  Without those firesh supplies of troops
which from time to time arrived from  Macedonia, the shameful
corruption of manners which pervaded his army could not have
failed to animate even those dissolute and indolent Asiatics to a
recovery of their fieedom by exterminating their invaders.
But ambition, the most powerful antidote against the contagion
of luxury, was the darling passion of Alexander. Amidst all the
enervating pleasures of Persepolis, the Macedonian was meditating
new  enterprises and more. extensive  conquests.  The son of
Jupiter could do nothing less than follow the footsteps of his
brothers Hercules and Bacchus.  He now projected the conquest
of India, firmly persuaded'that the gods had decreed him  the
sovereignty of the whole habitable world. The fame of his victories had preceded him in his course, and he penetrated without
much opposition to the banks of the Indus, receiving in his progress the submission of most of the native princes, who deprecated
his hostility, and sought to gain his favor by large subsidies and
presents.  One of these, however, named Porus- a prince of
great spirit and magnanimity, disdained to submit to the invader,
and maintaliedd a contest for his independence which did equal
honor to his personal' courage and conduct as a general.  Porus
encountered the Macedonians with a large and welldisciplined
army; but the event was unsuccessful, and in a decisive engagement on the banks of the Hydaspes, the Indians were defeated
* Q. Curtius, in fine, lib. v. c. 13.




190                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK 11.
with the loss of 20,000 foot and 3000 horse.  The captive prince
being brought into the presence of his conqueror, Alexander generously praised him  for the courage and ability he had displayed,
and concluded by asking him in what manner he wished and expected to be treated.  "'As a king," said Porus.  Struck with
the magnanimity of this answer, Alexander declared he should
not be frustrated of his wishes; for from that moment he should
regard him as a sovereign prince, and think himself honored by
his friendship and alliance.  As a proof of his amity, he added to
the kingdom of Porus some of the adjoining provinces, from  which
he had expelled the princes who had been his ancient enemies.
The Macedonian, as the inonuments of his Indian cpnquests,
built two large cities, to one of which he gave the name of Nicea,
and to the other of Bucephalia; the latter in honor of his famous
horse Bucephalus, who died there. He now advanced into the
interior of India, passing the rivers Hyphasis and Acesine, eastern.branches of the Indus; and his accustomed good fortune constantly
attending him, he would have pursued his course to the Eastern
Ocean, had the spirits of his army kept pace with his ambition.
But those barbarous nations, though unable to resist his progress,
were not subdued.  It was impossible to retain the territory he
had overrun; and his troops, foreseeing no end to their labors,
positively refused to proceed.  With a sensible mortification to his
pride, he was forced to return to the Indus, after rearing, as monuments of his conquests, twelve altars upon the eastern banks of
the Hyphasis, of enormous height, on which he inscribed his own
name, with those of his father Ammon and his brothers Hercules
and Apollo.  He is said also to have traced a camp in the same
place of three times the necessary extent, surrounding it with a
strong rampart and fosse: and to have built in it enormous stables
for horses, with the mangers of a most extraordinary height.  He
is, in like manner, said to have caused suits of armor to be buried
in the earth, of size far exceeding the human proportions, with
bedsteads, and all other utensils on a similar gigantic scale; follies
which would, indeed, exceed all belief, did they not rest on the
authority of authors, whose testimony appears hardly liable to
suspicion.
Alexander now  determined to turn his disappointment to the
best avail by exploring the countries washed by the Indus in its
course to the ocean.  In this view a numerous armament of ships
was partly built and partly collected on the different branches of
that great river, and the command of it given to Nearchus, a
native of Crete, a man of talents and genius, in whom  Alexander
found an able and enterprising coadjutor.  On board of this fleet
the king himself embarked, with a large part of his troops, while
the rest followed by land along the course of the river; the fleet
and army' thus aiding each other's progress.  In this expedition,
which was of several months' duration, the Greeks encountered




cH. IV.]                    NEARCHUS.;                            191
considerable opposition from the warlike tribes of Indians through
whose territories they forced their way.
Having  at length  reached  the  ocean, at the  sight of which
Alexander is reported to have shed tears, as finding here an impassable limit to his conquests,-:he directed Nearchus to proceed
along the Indian shore to the Persian Gulf, while he determined
to march with the army towards Persepolis and Babylon, through
the desert plains of Gedrosia, and the more cultivated country of
Caramania.  Both plans were accomplished.  Nearchus, after a
voyage of seven months, arrived in the Euphrates, while Alexander, vithin the same time, amidst incredible fatigues and perils,
and with the loss of three-fourths of his army, reached the frontier of Persia.  On his arrival at Susa, where he was received
with the honors due to the sovereign of the empire and the conqueror of the eastern world, he married'Statira, the daughter of
Darius, and at the same time celebrated the nuptials bf eighty of
his chief officers.with a like number of Persian'ladies of distinguished rank, on each of whom he bestowed a suitable dowry.
The public joy, on occasion of these splendid festivals; was increased
by the arrival of Nearchus at Susa, the report of his successful
expedition, and  the detail of those discoveries which were the
fruit of his voyage.We have hitherto contemplated the character of Alexander
chiefly in a favorable point of view. It must not, however, be
disguised that this character, ingenuous upon the whole, and
worthy of admiration, was stained and deformed by extraordinary
vices and defects.  Of his inordinate vanity we have already seen
some striking proofs.  Of his sanguinary disposition we have likewise had examples in the barbarous treatment of some of his vanquished enemies; but it remains to be told that, in the unbridled
rage and frenzy of his passions, he was guilty of the most shocking cruelty, combined with ingratitude. to some of his best friends.
Philotas, a worthy favorite of Alexander, the only remaining. son
of his oldest and  ablest general Parmenio, had  received  some
vague information of a treasonable design against the life of Alexander, but delayed to mention it, probably from  giving no credit
*The journal of Nearchus's voyage, preserved to us by Arrian, and found
in his book upon Indian Affairs, from the twentieth to the forty-first chapter
inclusively, is a most instructive and curious document. It has been translated
and illustrated by an ample and learned commentary by Dr. Vincent.  The
accounts which we find in Arrian and in Strabo, of the state of manners and
the condition of society in India at the time of Alexander's expedition, correspond with surprising accuracy to the present condition and manners of the native
Hindoos. The singular division of the whole mass of the people into castes, dis-'tinguished by their occupations and modes of life, and separated from each other
by impassable barriers, prevailed at that early period as at present; and the progress of science and knowledge in many of the useful and elegant arts gives every
presumptive evidence of a state of civilization extending to the most remote
antiquity.




192                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOO3K 00
to the informer.  On the report reaching his ears from a different
quarter; Alexander, who'was told at the same time that Philotas
had been informed of the design and refused to communicate it,
immediately conceived the unworthy suspicion that his silence
arose from  his own concern in the conspiracy.  On no other
grounds Philotas was put to the torture, and, in the agony of pain,
uttering something that bore the appearance of confessing his
offence, which was nothing more than a venial piece of negligence,
he was, by the command of Alexander, stoned to death. But
this was not enough.  The aged Parmenio, whom the king coneluded to be either an accomplice in the crime of his son, or at
least to be incapable of ever forgiving his punishment, was, by the
same command, assassinated in his tent.  Clitus, a general of
great ability, and to whom Alexander owed his life in the battle
of the Granicus, stood deservedly, on these accounts, in high
favor and esteem with his sovereign, who particularly prized the
ingenuous simplicity of his manners, and the honest freedom
with which he was accustomed to utter his opinions or propose his counsels. Amidst the mirth of a banquet, while the
sycophant courtiers, in extolling to the skies the achievements of
tho-irt,prince, were drawing a depreciating comparison between the
merits of Philip' and of his son, this brave Macedonian had, with
honest indignation, reproved their meanness, and warmly supported
the fame of his ancient master.  Alexander, in a transport of
ra;te, seized'a javelin from one of the guards, and hurling it at the
br. ast of Clitus, struck him dead upon the spot.  The atrocity
of the deed was instantly felt by the king, and, in the agony of
remorse, he would have turned the weapon against his own
bosom, had not the attendants forcibly prevented him.  What
can we think of the infamous servility of the attendant courtiers,
who, to compose the troubled spirits of their sovereign, could
pass a solemn decree that the murder of Clitus was a justifiable
action?
Yet, with the most wonderful inconsistency of character, the
same man whose vanity and arrogance could prompt to such out.,
rageous and criminal excesses, appears to have been "possessed of
a moderation of mind that utterly disdained the gross flatteries
with which his courtiers continually strove to corrupt him.  While
sailing down the Hydaspes, Aristobulus, a mean sycophant, who
had composed a narration of the king's battles, was reading to him
for his amusement the account of the Indian expedition, in which
the writer had exaggerated in many circumstances palpably beyond
the truth.  Alexander seized the book, and threw it with indignation into the river, telling the author that he merited the same
treatment, for having absurdly endeavored to magnify by fiction,
those deeds which nee'ded no embellishment to attract the admiration of mankind.'Arrived at Ecbatana, Alexander celebrated his entry into the




Ci.o V.]            DEATH OF ALEXANDERo..93
ancient capital of Media with magnificent games and festivals, in
which every refinement of luxury was contrived that could flatter
the senses or feed the voluptuous passions.  Whole days and
nights were consumed in riot and debauchery, in which the meanest soldier vied with his prince in the most unrestrained indulgence.
Amidst these tumultuous pleasures, the death of Hephaestion,
whom  Alexander loved with sincere affection, threw him into a
paroxysm of despair.  He commanded the physicians who attended him to be put to death; he accused the gods as conspiring
with them to deprive him of a life more dear to him than his own;
he ordered a public mourning, and that the sacred fires should be
extinguished through all Asia; an omen which both his friends and
enernies regarded as of the blackest import.
The Chaldean priests of Babylon had appropriated to their own
use the riches and revenue of the temple of Belus, which was the
ornament of that city, and a great object of superstitious veneration.  Alexander had expressed a purpose of reforming this abuse,
and the Chaldeans, to avert his design, had published a prediction
that his' entry into Babylon would be fatal to the conqueror of the
East.  Alexander probably saw through this artifice and despised
it.  He entered Babylon in triumph, and was so delighted with
the splendor of that great city, that he declared his purpose of making it the capital of his empire.  He there received ambassadors
from various regions of the earth, congratulating him on his conq!Uests, and soliciting his friendship and alliance: but mark the force
of superstition even in the greatest minds.  The ChaldTean prophecy, in spite of reason, depressed his spirits to such a degree as to
force him to drown reflection by every species of riot and debauchery.  The consequence was an inflammatory fever, which, after
a few days' continuance, put an end to his life, in the thirty-third
year ofhis age.
It is not easy to form to ourselves a precise and just idea of the
character of Alexander the Great.  While some authors have
attributed to him the most extensive as well as the soundest plans
of policy, there are others who have rated him no higher than as
a fortunate madman.  Truth is generally to be found between
opposite extremes.  We cannot, consistently with reason, say,
with M. Montesquieu, that that general trusted nothing to chance
who, with an army of only thirty-five thousand men, the sum of
seventy talents, and a single month's provisions, set out upon the
conquest of Asia.  Neither can we, with the same author, ascribe;t to a sagacious policy that he assumed the Persian garb, imitated
the manners of that people, affected all the ostentatious splendor
of an Asiatic monarch, and corrupted the simple and virtuous
habits of his Macedonian troops by every excess of luxury and
debauchery. But if we cannot, in these particulars, join in the
encomiunl bestowed on the profound policy of Alexander, much
less can we subscribe to the opinion of the French satirist, that
VOL. I.                   25




194                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOEK Id
the youth who, at the age of twenty-four, had, in three battles.
won the empire of Persia; who was master of Greece, of Asia,
and of Egypt; and who, in the course of a few years, built more
cities than any other conqueror is recorded to have destroyed,
merited no other treatment than to be confined as a madrnan.*  A
judgment of this kind may be allqwed to pass in a satire of Boileau,
but has no weight in the balance of sober reflection.  Guided by
a spirit of just criticism in the perusal of the history of this great
man, of which we have here exhibited some general outlines, wve
shall discern the characteristics of a singular genius taking its direction from  unbounded ambition: an excellent and ingenuous nature
corrupted at length by an unvarying current of success; and a
shocking example of the violence of the passions, when eminence
of fortune removes all restraint, or flattery stimulates to their uncontrolled indulgence.
The extent of the views of Alexander, and the reach of his
genius, may be estimated from those five schemes which he had
entered in his table-book as enterprises which he still purposed to
accomplish for establishing and securing the empire he had founded.
These were, 1. That 1000 ships of war should be built in Ptoenicia and Cyprus, for the conquest of the Carthaginian  empire,
and of all the states on the African and European coasts of the
Mediterranean Sea. 2. That a high road should be made from
Egypt along the African coast to the Pillars of Hercules, and
garrisons and cities built along it at convenient stations:-a facility
of communication between the distant parts of an empire so extended, he judged to be absolutely essential to its preservation.
3. That six magnificent temples should be built in various parts
of the empire, to promote an amicable consonance in the great
principles of religion, and reliance on the divine government; without which, as a fundamental persuasion, independent of all the
various modes of worship, no empire can long exist or flourish.
4. That sea-ports, harbors, and arsenals, should be constructed
in every convenient situation, for the reception and security of the
fleets.  5. That all the new  cities he hlad founded should be
planted with colonies, and interchanges made by transporting the
Asiatics into Europe and Africa, the Europeans and Africans into
Asia. This, which tended to the union and consolidation of all
the different parts of his empire, was the main end and centre of
all the projects of this extraordinary man.  His object, in short,
was universal empire.  Whether that object was practicable or
attainable need not be inquired; it was so in his opinion, and all
his designs and measures tended to that end.  This object is the
* Heureux, si de son tems pour des bonnes raisons,
La Macedoine eut eu des petites maisons.
BOILEAU.




eH rV.]            DEATH OF ALEXANDER.                    195
key to his whole conduct, and reconciles every. apparent anomaly
of his character: it accounts for his desire to be held of divine
origin, while his mind had no tincture of credulity; for his gentle
and conciliating manners opposed to the arrogance of his temper,
impatient of control or opposition; for his generosity, clemency,
and munificence; for his frantic resentment of every thing that
tended to mortify his pride; for the assumption of the Eastern
dress, and imitation of the Eastern manners, and the studied abolition of all distinctions between his native subjects, and (he nations
whom he subdued.
Alexander on his death-bed had appointed no successor, but had
given his ring to Perdiccas, one of his officers, and his principal
favorite after the death of Hephaestion.  When his courtiers asked
him to whom he wished the empire to devolve upon his death, he
replied, To the most worthy; and he is said to have added, that he
foresaw this bequest would prepare for him very extraordinary funeral rites.  He left by Barsine, the widow of Memnon of Rhodes, a
son  named Hercules; he had a brother, Arideus, a weak prince,
whom he carried along with him in his expeditions; and his Queen
Roxana, the daughter of Oxyartes, a Bactrian, was with child at his
death.  By Statira, the daughter of Darius Codomannus, he had no
children, nor by Parisatis, the daughter of Ochus.  His principal
officers having held a council upon his death, it was agreed that
the crown should be conferred on Aridaus, who took the name of
Philip; and it was resolved that the child of Roxana, if a son,
should share the empire with him.  She was soon after delivered
of a son, who was named Alexander, and whose right was accordingly acknowledged.
This settlerm'ent of the empire jointly upon a weak man and an
infant was the result of the jealousy-of the principal officers, who
could not agree upon the choice of any one of themselves, while
each thought he had an equal claim with his competitors.  Those
of the most moderate ambition would have been contented with the
sovereignty of some of the provinces; while others aimed at an
undivided empire.  Among the latter was Perdiccas, who, from
tile circumstance of receiving the ring of Alexander, was considered.
as tutor of the princes, and as such had a share of the regency; but
this ambitious man interpreted the king's gift as a designation of him
for his successor.
His policy was singular; he brought about a division of the whole
empire into thirty-three different governments, among the chief officers of Alexander; men of very different measure of abilities, and
who he foresaw would be for ever at variance. His aid must, therefore, probably be courted, and he proposed by an artful management
to weaken all, and thus reduce them by degrees under his own
authority.  In this division of the empire, the original monarchy
of Macedon, with all the provinces gained by Philip, together with
Greece, were allotted to Antipater and Craterus.  Paphlagonia and




196                   UNIVERSAL HISTORYo              [BOOK I1
Cappadocia were assigned to Eumenes; Egypt to Ptolemy; and
to Antigonus, Phrygia, Lycia, and Pamphylia. Lysimacllus had
Thrace with the adjacent countries upon the Euxine.  To Perdiccas himself, no distinct share-of the empire was assigned in government; he contented himself with his influence in the regency and
the command of the household troops.
On the history of the successors of Alexander, the Abbe Condillar has made a very just reflection: "We are interested," says
he " in the revolutions of the Grecian states; our admiration is
excited by the conquests of Alexander; but we can scarcely fix
our attention on the history of his successors.  Yet a vast theatre
is opened to our view -a variety of scenes and multiplied catastrophes.  How then does it happen that the history of those transactions is less interesting than the fate of Lacedtemon? It is not
the magnitude of an object that renders it truly interesting.  A
large picture is often displeasing from the very circumstance of its
greatness. We lose the connection of its parts, because the eye
cannot take them in at once.  Still less will a large picture give
us pleasure, if every`portion of it presents a different scene or
action, each unconnected with the other."  Such is the case with
the history of the successors of Alexander.  The multitude of
subordinate governors who share and dismember this vast empire,
every one of whom we behold pursuing separate schemes of armbition, throws a confusion upon the whole picture, which it requires
the most laborious attention to dissipate; and even when that is
accomplished, at the expense of much fitigue and trouble, the end
to be gained, either in instruction or pleasure, is not adequate to
the cost.  In the revolutions of Greece, our views are continually
fixed upon the most striking and interesting objects; the development of the human mind, in its advances from rudeness to refinement; the progress of government and legislation; the gradual
changes of national. manners; the exercise of the noblest passions,
the love of country and of ingenuous freedom; the display of eminent virtues anrd great abilities. ~ But in this motley and confused
drama of the dismembered empire of Alexander, there is neither
a people nor a country for whom our interest is excited: there is
neither a display of talents nor of virtues.  At the head of the
empire we behold two sovereigns, the one a fool, the other an
infant; an unprincipled and ambitious regent with no defined or
legal authority; a multitude of inferior governors, each aiming at an
extension of his own power by the overthrow of his rivals; and,
finally, the consequence of their contentions and intrigues, in the
extinction of all the family and kindred of Alexander.
There is, however, one exception to these barbarous and disgusting scenes.  Among the numerous governors, Ptolemy, surnamed Soter, a Macedonian of mean extraction, had Egypt, as we
have remarked, for his share of the empire.  He owed his elevation to his merit, and had served as a general under Alexander




mi. IV.]          SUCCESSORS OF ALEXA.N-DER..               197
from the commencernent of the Persian war.  While hie aimed at
independence as a sovereign, he had too much good sense to embroil himself with the disputes of the other governors, but applied'himself with earnestness and success to the establishment of his
own authority; and the advancement of the happiness of his people.
Perdiccas judged that he would find in Ptolemy the chief obstacle
to his ambitious views; and he therefore turned his attention first
to the reduction of Egypt.  In this enterprise he had the authority
of the kings, on the plausible pretext, that Ptolemy had revolted
from their sovereignty, and made himself an independent monarch.
But the attempt was unsuccessful; he found it impracticable to
mnake impression on the Egyptian frontier, which Ptolerny defended
with a powerful army; his troops, disgusted with the severe, and
haughty manner of their leader, and exasperated with their ill
success, mutinied, and assassinated him; and transferred their
services and allegiance to the governor of Egypt.
Ptolemy, whose reputation was.enhanced by the defeat of this
enterprise, might now have succeeded to the power and authority
of JPerdiccas, as regent, under Arideius and the infant prince; but
he wisely declined that dangerous dignity, which could add nothing
to his real power; and, on his refusal, it fell to Antipater, the
go-ernor of. lacedonia.  A new division was now made of the
empire; and Babylon and Assyria were assigned to Seleucus.
But Egypt still remained under Ptolemy, who had established his
authority in that quarter upon a solid bhsis.
Eumenes, the governor of Cappadocia, a man of great merit, and
firmly attached to the family of Alexander, was, from those circumstances, regarded with a jealous eye by the rest of his colleagues. Antipater, in the quality of Regent, proclaimed war
against him, and he was betrayed and delivered up to Antigonus, the
governor of Phrygia and Lydia, who put him  to death, and seized
upon his states.  Antigonus, thus acquiring the command, of a
great part of the Asiatic provinces, began to aspire to the universal
empire of Asia.  He attacked and ravaged the dominions of the
conterminous governors.  Seleucus, the governor of Babylon,
unable to malke head against him in the field, fled into Egypt, and
humnbly sought the aid and protection of Ptolemy; who, alarmed
at the designs of Antigonus, supported the fugitive with a powerful army, and reinstated him in his government of Babylon.
Seleucus was beloved by his subjects, and the time of his
return to Babylon became a common epoch through all the Asiatic
nations. It is called the era of the,&eleucidce, and is fixed 312
years before the birth of Christ.  It is made use of all over the
East, by Jews, Christians, and Mahometans.  The Jews call it
the era of contracts; because, when subject to the'Syro-Macedonian princes, they were obliged to employ it in all contracts and&
civil deeds.  The Arabians term  it the era of the two-horned;
a denomination taken from the coins or medals of Seleucus, in




198                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [nBOOK UI
which he is represented with horns, like those of a ram.  In the
book of the Maccabees it is called the era of the kingdom of the
Greeks.
Antigonus, however, persisted in his schemes of ambition.  I-e
sent his son, Demetrius, with a fleet against Ptolemy, which was
victorious in an engagement with that of the Egyptians.  It was
on this occasion that Antigonus and Demetrius assumed to themselves the title of kings, in which they were imitated by all the
other governors.  A league was now  formed against Antigonus
and Demetrius, by Ptolemy-and Seleucus, in which they were
joined by Cassander, the son of Antipater, and Lysimachus; the
former, governor of Macedonia, and the latter of Thrace.  The
battle of Ipsus, in Phrygia, decided the contest.  Antigonus was
killed, Dernetrius fled with the shattered remains of his army,
and the conquerors made a partition of their dominions.  Ptolemy,
in addition to Egypt and Lybia, had Arabia, Ccelosyria, and Palestine; and Cassander had Macedonia and Greece.  The share
of Lysimachus was Thrace, Bithynia, and some other provinces
beyond the Hellespont.  Seleucus had all the rest of Asia, toithe
river Indus.  This last kingdom, the most powerful and splendid
of the whole, was called the kingdom  of Syria; of which the
capital, Antioch, was built by Seleucus, and was the residence of
the line of monarchs descended froim him.
CHAPTER V.
Flourishing state of Egypt under the Ptolemies-Greece after the death of
Alexander-Achaian league-Revolution at Lacedaemon —Ambitious designs
of Philip II. of Macedon draw on him the vengeance of the Romans-Their
aid solicited by the AEtolians-Macedon conquered-Greece becomes a lRoman province.
WE have remarked, that under the first Ptolemy, surnamed
Soter, the kingdom  of Egypt was extremely flourishing.  This
prince, a true patriot and wise politician, considered the happiness of his-people as the first object of government.  A  lover
himself of the arts and sciences, they. attained, during his reign, to
a degree of splendor which rivalled their state in the most illumin
ated days of Greece. It is remarkable that Greece, which owed
her first dawning of literature and the arts to the Egyptians, should




CHI. V.]                   THE PTOLEMIES.                           199
now contribute to polish and instruct her ancient masters.  Ptole
my Soter founded the famous library of Alexandria,* that immense
treasury of literature, which, in the time of his son Ptolemy Phila
delphus, t contained above 100,000 volumes.  It was still enlarged
by the succeeding monarchs of the same race, till it amounted, at
length, as Strabo informs us, to 700,000 volumes; a collection
quite prodigious, when we consider the comparative labor and
expense of amassing books before the invention of printing, and
since that era.  This immense library was burnt to ashes in the
war which Julius Caesar waged with the inhabitants of Alexandria.
Adjoining to this was a smaller library, which escaped the conflagration at that time, and which became, in the course of ages,
very considerable; but, as if fate had opposed the progress and
continuance of Egyptian literature, this second library of Alexandria was burnt, about 800 years afterwards, when the Saracens
took possession of Egypt.  The books were taken out by order
of the Caliph Omar, and used, for six months,. in supplying the
fires of the public baths.  s. If these books," said Omar, II contain
nothing but what is in the Alcoran, they are of no use; if they contain any thing not in it, they are of no consequence to salvation; and
if any thing contrary to it, they are damnable, and ought not to be
suffered."
Ptolemy Philadelphus, the son of Soter, inherited the talents
and many of the good qualities of his father, though stained with
considerable blemishes; it was by the orders of this prince, who
wished to understand the laws and the history of the Jews, and
enrich his library with a copy of the Books of Moses, that that
translation called the Septuagint, as being the work of seventytwo interpreters, was made from the Hebrew into Greek.:: Egypt
* Ptolemy Soter was, himself, a man of letters, and wrote a history of the wars
of Alexander, which was greatly esteemed, but has not come down to posterity.
ft He was so named, ironically, for having put two of his brothers to death, from
a jealousy of their popularity with his subjects.
These seventy-two interpreters are said to have been native Jews, six of the
most learned mer beino- chosen from each of the twelve tribes, and sent to Egypt'
by Eleazar, the high priest, at the request of Ptolerny, who had conciliated his
go{od will, by releasing all the Jewish captives in Egypt. This account has been
disputed upon no better ground than that a smaller number would have served
the purpose as well as the larger.-See Prideaux. For four hundred years the
Septuagint translation was held in such esteem by the Jews themselves, that it
was read in inany of the synagogues of Jude in preference to the original. But
when they saw that the Christians esteemed it equally, they then became desirous
of exploding its credit; and in the second century, Aquila, an apostate Christian,
was employed to make a new Greek version, in which lie designedly perverted
the sense of all the passages most directly applicable to our Saviour. Other
translations were likewise made by Symmachus and Theodotion., The original
version, by the carelessness of transcribers, also became very erroneous; so- that,
in the third century, Origen, in the view of forming a correct copy of the Scriptures, published first one edition in four columns (thence called the Tetrapla),
containing the versions of Aquila, Syrnmrachus, and Theodotion, along with the
Hebrew text; and afterwards a second edition, called Hexapla, in which two




200                    U1NIVERSAL HISTGRY.                 [BOOK  WL
continued still to flourish undeir the succeeding' prince, Ptolemy
Euergetes, who attained that glorious surname (the Beneficent)
from  his successful promotion of the prosperity and happiness of
his people.   In the beginning of his reign, he waged war with
Antiochus of Syria, for the recovery of part of the Asiatic provinces which belonged to.his hereditary kingdom; and, being successfiul in that enterprise, he brought home immense spoils, among
which were a great number of paintings and statues, with which he
enriched his capital of Alexandria.  On returning by Jerusalem,
Josephus informs us that he offered sacrifice in the temple to the
God of Israel, in thanksgiving for the victories he had gained over
his enemies.  It has been supposed that the Jews, to court his
favor, showed to him the Prophecies of Daniel, in which his conquests appeared to be predicted.  The Alexandrian library owed a
great increase of its literary treasures to this prince.
The descendants of the first Ptolemy continued to fill the throne
of Egypt for two hundred and ninety-two years.  In the, three
first of these reigns the Egyptians were probably a greater, and
certainly a much happier people, than they had ever been in those
remote periods which historians have mentioned with poetical exaggeration.
In the preceding brief notices of the monarchies which rose
from the ruins of the empire of Alexander, we have anticipated
somewhat in the order of time.  We must now recall our attention
to the affairs of Greece posterior to the death of that monarch;
and we shall very shortly trace the outlines of her history, till she
blecomes a province of the now  extended empire; a melancholy
period, enlivened by few  of those scenes or events which either
animate the feelings -or engage the imagination.
During the period of the conquests of Alexander, the Grecian
republics remained for the most part in a state of torpid -inactivity~
One feeble effort for their emancipation from the Macedonian yoke
was made in Peloponnesus, by the Spartans, which was speedily
repressed by Antipater, who, in one battle, put an end to all resistance.  Some years after, while Alexander was on his expedition
to India, Harpalus, whom  he had appointed governor of Babylon,
having amassed, by tyranny and extortion, the immense sum  of
five thousand talents, apprehensive that the conqueror, on his
return, would bring him  to a severe reckoning, passed over into
other versions, the one found at Nicopolis, the other at Jericho, were added to
the former. From a comparison of all these translations, Origen laudably endeavored to settle the text of a genuine and complete translation of the Scriptures.  The best modern edition of the Septuagint is that of Dr. Grabe,
published in the beginning of the eighteenth century. The Septuagint trans~
lation was in use in the time of our Saviour, and is that out of which most
of the citations in the New Testament from the Old are taken. It was likewise
the canonical translation used by all the Christian churches from the earliest
ages




CH. V.  rHOCION AND DEMOSTHENES.                           20O
Greece, where he employed his money in corrupting the orators
of Athens and the chief men of that republic, in the view  of establishing an independent power under his own' authority and control.  But he found, in the incorruptible virtue of Phocion, an
insuperable obstacle to his designs.  This venerable man acted on
the same unshaken principles he had all along maintained; he
could not consider Alexander as lawfully the master or sovereign
of Greece; but he saw with regret that the era of Grecian liberty
had long passed away, along with the virtuous manners of former
times, and that a people thoroughly corrupted and degenerate
were incapable of recovering their lost freedom, or maintaining it,
tllough gained for a season.  He wished, therefore, to preserve at
least the peace and tranquillity of his country.  but if we judge
thus of the politics of Phocion, we cannot impute it for blame to
his great rival, Demosthenes, that he cherished different views'
and that as he had constantly opposed the ambitious designs of
Philip, so he persevered in denying the sovereignty of Alexander.
The enemies of Demosthenes attempted to bring his integrity
under suspicion, by propagating a slanderous report, that he had
accepted bribes from Harpalus, and entered into the views of that
arnhitious and bad man.  But this accusation,:.hich gained such
~Jit at the time as to procure the banishment of Demosthienes,
has, upon the most scrupulous inquiry, being deemed a calumny.
The principal agent of Harpalus being put to the torture, to force
a confession of the names of those Athenians who had accepted
bribes from that traitor, solemnly acquitted Demosthenes of that
dishonorable charge.  A single hint from  Alexander of his intention to revisit Greece, was sufficient to defeat the schemes of H3[arpalus, and to procure his expulsion from Athens.
On intelligence of Alexander's death, a wonderful change was
operated on the public mind in Greece.  Liberty was now  the
universal cry.  The people of Athens expressed the most tumultuous joy, and the Ecclesia resounded with the harangues of the
orators and' shouts of the applauding populace.  Demosthenes,
though in exile, engaged several of the states to join with the
Athenians, and to equip a fleet of two hundred and forty galleys.
The Spartans, dispirited by their late defeat by the arms of Antipater, refused to join the league for independence.  Phocion, ever
prudent and circutmspect, advised the confederate states to wait
the opportunity of those dissensions which he foresaw must infallibly arise among the different. governors.  But the counsel of
Demosthenes, who proposed an immediate commencement of
hostilities, suited better with the ardor of their present feelings.
The advice of Phocion was justified by the event.  Antipater,
after some severe checks from the troops of the confederate states,
finally. defeated them, and reduced all to submission.  In punishment of the offence of Athens, he abolished the democratic government, and established in its room an aristocracy, of which he
vOL. 1.           26




20)2                 UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK II.
had the absolute control.  He compelled the Athenians to defray
the whole expenses of the war; and, finally, demanded that they
should deliver up to him  Demosthenes.  This illustrious man,
foreseeing inevitable death, swallowed poison.
Of the tendency of the political counsels of Demosthenes, in
contrast with those of Phocion, I have already expressed a general
opinion.  The principle which prompted the counsels of the former
was certainly noble.  His views were unquestionably disinterested,
for he supported the cause even of decaying and hopeless liberty
against successful ambition, and, amidst every attempt to seduce
hin from his principles, he remained to the last the avowed enemy
of the enslavers of his country.  The question of preference between his politics and those of Phocion comes to this short issue
whether was it most advisable for the Greeks, corrupted and degenerate as they were, to submit peaceably to that servitude which
they could not avoid, and patiently to bear the yoke which'they
had not strength to break; or, by continual resistance, to mark,
at least, a desire of their ancient freedom-an indignant spirit,
which rose against their situation; and thus to give a testimony to
their tyrant, that, though oppressed, they were not subdued;
though compelled to submit, they were not tarhe and voluntary
slaves.  The former was, perhaps, the more prudent and the
safer part; the latter, without doubt, the more honorable.
The Athenians themselves, after the death of Demosthenes,
gave an ample expression of their sense of his patriotic merits, as
well as of the generosity of his counsels; for it was their character,
as we have seen, oftener to expiate their offences to the dead,
than to do justice to the living.  They erected a statue in the
Prytaneum to his memory, with this inscription'-" If thy power,
0 Demosthenes, had been equal to thy wisdom and abilities, the
Xlacedonian JMlars had never ruled in Greece."' *
We have already remarked those dissensions which, after the
death of Alexander, arose among the governors of the different
provinces, upon the first division of the empire made by Perdiccas.
BThe new partition made by Antipater, on his acquiring the regency,
gave rise to fresh disputes, and all were soon in arins and commotion.  This was certainly the crisis that the Greeks should have
awaited for throwing off the Macedonian yoke; but, too impatient
and eager to seize the first opening that promised success to their
design, their country became the theatre of war, affected by all
the revolutions of the empire, and successively the prey of every
ambitious governor whose power happened to predominate.  Antipater, in making a new division of the provinces, was actuated by
the twofold view of strengthening his own authority and weaken
-'Er teor'v aavEtA Arvwv1 uAwr'qt-`A   ZbaEa,
Ov6'wo-' v'ERAAiwv  IjoE' XAQJ MaxIuweZV



CH. v.]                  POLYSPERCHON.                      203
ing that of his rivals, whose firm establishment in their governments had elevated them to the rank, and caused the greater part
of them to assume the title, of kings.  His policy was therefore
judicious, but death put a period to his projects.  He bequeathed
Macedonia and the government of Greece to Polysperchon, one
of Alexander's oldest officers, in preference to his own son Cassander, who, consldering this as an act of injustice, prepared to
assert his hereditary right by arms.  He applied, in that view, to
Antigonus, and received firom him the aid of a large army, which,
under the command of Nicanor, invaded Greece, and, attacking
the city of Athens, seized the Pireus, and put a garrison into the
citadel. Polysperchon, however, retained the Athenians in allegiance to his authority, by promising them the restitution of their
democratic government, in place of the aristocracy established by
Antipater.  The revolution  was accomplished; the partisans of
~ the former government were condemned to death, and among
these'the old and venerable Phocion.  Ever a friend to the tranquillity of his country, he had favored the party of the aristocracy,
and had on that account incurred the popular resentment, which
was now extrelne, against all whom they regarded as enemies to
democracy.   Phocion, at the age of eighty, was condemned to
drink hemlock.  The last request he made to his son was, that he
should endeavor to forget the injustice and ingratitude which the
Athenians had shown to his father.
Meantime Cassander arrived with an army to the aid of Nicanor,
and to support his own claims to Macedonia and Greece.  Their
united forces drove Polysperchon out of Attica, and forced him
to retreat to Peloponnesus.  Cassander subdued the  Athenians,
overturned the newly established democracy, and obliged the
party of the nobles to elect one of their own number to preside as
a governor under his control. They chose Demetrius Phalereus,
a descendant of Conon, and a man of distinguished virtue and
ability. Under his administration, which was of ten years' continuance, the Athenians were truly happy. The revenues of the
state were increased, the useful arts encouraged, the strictest attention paid to the administration of justice, and to the reformation of
all those abuses which had arisen from their late disorders and
fluctuations of government.  In short, this fickle people might
have enjoyed real prosperity, had they possessed a true feeling of
their real interests, and known how to value the blessings of peace
and good order.  But this was not their character; every change
was acceptable to thb Athenians.  They idolized their present
governor, Demetrius, and erected three hundred statues to his
honor.  We shall presently see the emptiness of these testimonies
of popular favor.
Under the regency of Polysperchon, there was an utter extinc
tion of the family of Alexander the Great.  His mother, Olympias,
had retired into Epirus during the regency of Antipater; but she




204                  UN1vERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK II
was invited by Polysperchon to return to Macedonia.  Scarcely
was she settled there, when her ambition and cruelty projected
and accomplished the death of the weak Arideus, the nominal
successor to the empire of his brother Alexander, as well as of his
queen Eurydice. By these abominable measures, she took on
herself the administration of government, as the guardian of her
infant grandson, the son of Alexander by Roxana.  She had likewise put to death the brother of Cassander, and some principal
men among the Macedonians, who had shown themselves hostile
to her designs.  On the plausible pretence of avenging those
crimes, but in reality to serve his own ambitious ends, Cassander
besieged her in the town of Pydna, and, taking the place by assault,
Olympias became his prisoner, and was soon after put to death by
his orders.
This great bar to his ambition being removed, Cassander kept
the young prince and his mother, Roxana, in close confinement in
the city of Amphipolis.  But the Macedonians expressing their
impatience till their native sovereign should assume the reins of
government, Cassander caused both him and his mother to be
privately murdered.  The people expressed their resentment in
murmurs; but such was the power of the usurper, that none dared
openly to impeach or question his proceedings.  Meantime Polysperchon, whom he had expelled from Macedonia, and who now
governed in Peloponnesus, sent for Hercules, a younger son of
Alexander by Barsine, from Pergamus, declaring his resolution to
present him to the Macedonians, and cause his title to be acknowledged as their lawful sovereign.  This new obstacle was removed
by Cassander, who artfully won Polysperchon to his interest by
confirming him in the government of Peloponnesus.  The main
condition of their treaty was, that the young Hercules and his
mother should both be put to death.
There were now, remaining of the family of Alexander only
two sisters; Cleopatra, the widow of Alexander, king of Epirus;
and Thessalonice, the wife of Cassander.  Cleopatra, who had
for some time resided at Sardis, in Lydia, seeing herself treated
with little respect by Antigonus, the governor of that province,
bad betaken herself to Egypt, on the invitation of Ptolemy Soter;
but she was brought back by order of Antigonus, and privately
put to death.  Thessalonice'was afterwards murdered by one of
her opwn sons, the second Antipater, in revenge for her having
favored the claims of his brother to the succession of his paternal
dominions.  Thus within the compass of twenty-eight years from
the death of Alexander' the Great, there remained not one alive of
all his family or kindred.
Antigonus, whose extensive projects we have already noticed,
was perhaps the most ambitious of all those governors who shared
the empire of Alexander.  Not satisfied with almost the whole
of the Asiatic provinces, his object was now the sovereignty of




CH. V.]            DEMETRIUS POLIORCETES.                  205
Greece; and in that view he sent thither his son Demetrius Poliorcetes, a young man of great talents, and perfectly disposed to
cooperate in all his schemes of ambition.  With the command of
a large army he made an attack on the Athenian territory, seized'
the Pirmeus-without opposition, expelled the garrison of Demetrius
Phalereus, and brought over the populace to his interest, by restoring the democratic constitution. The Athenians, happy as they
had been under the government of Pllalereus, could not resist the
charms of revolution.  The three hundred statues, which, in proof
of their gratitude, they had erected to his honor, were thrown
down and demolished; he was expelled the territory of the
republic, and his rival Poliorcetes hailed the deliverer of Athens.
The e.xcellent Phalereus found an asylum at the court of Ptolemy
Soter, in Egypt.
The life of Demetrius Poliorcetes was a perpetual series of
reverses of fortune.  During an interval of his absence from
Athens, the city was seized by Cassander.  Poliorcetes flying to
its relief, rescued Attica from its invader; and the people, in the
fervor of their zeal, proposed, as the highest rank of honor, to
lodge their deliverer in the temple of their tutelary goddess,
Minerva.  After the battle of Ipsus, in which, as we formerly
observed, his father Antigonus was killed, this same Poliorcetes,
twice hailed the dbliverer of Athens, was refused an asylum  in
that city when he fled thither for protection. When a change of
fortune had secured the safety of his paternal dominions in Asia,
he determined to avenge himself of the ungrateful Athenians.  He
landed in Attica with a numerous army, blocked up the harbor
at the same time with his fleet, and after a long and vigorous siege,
compelled the Athenians to surrender and throw themselves upon
his mercy.  He forgave them all past offences, and became once
more their idol.  Meantime a league was formed between Lysimachus, Seleucus, and Ptolemy, who divided Asia between them,
and Poliorcetes was stripped of all his eastern territories.  Thus
reduced to the possession only of a few of the cities of Greece, he
was on the point of losing even these, iwhen the dissensions
between the children of Cassander put him in possession of the
crown of Macedonia.  He was chosen to mediate in their differences; he found means to rid himself of the competitors, and
seized the crown for himself.  But destined as it would seem  to
a perpetual vicissitude of fortune, his new subjects of MAacedonia,
dissatisfied with the government of a sovereign who had no just
claims to their allegiance, rebelled, and, deserting his standard,
threw themselves under the rule of Pyrrhus, king of Epirus.
Poliorcetes fled into Asia, where, after a variety of events of little
importance to the chain of history, he surrendered himself a
prisoner to Seleacus, at whose court, dispirited -and careless of
life, lie abandoned himself to excessive debauchery, and soon after
died.




206                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK IL
Such was the fate of the successors of Alexander, and such the
catastrophe of his family; and thus feeble and fluctuating were
most of those monarchies which were raised from  the ruins of his
empire.  Great in extent of territory, they had no internal strength,
nor any principle of union or durability.  It was their lot to be
governed by restless, jealous, and ambitious men; the perpetual
jarring of whose interests gave them  no intervals of tranquillity,
nor allowed any attention to the settlement of their kingdoms, or
the regulation of their domestic policy.  These mona'chies were,
therefore, subject to perpetual revolutions; but all being alike
deficient in that native strength which arises from a long-estabfished government, there was not in any individual power a sufficiency of vigor to overwhelm or subjugate the rest.  The general
weakness of those kingdoms thus secured them against their incorporation and subjection to the government of any one of those
ambitious rulers; while it paved the way for an easy conquest,
and successive reduction of the whole under the yoke of a foreign
power.
In that period from the death of Alexander the Great, which
we have thus hastily run over, the proper history of the states of
Greece-presents only a series of unimportant revolutions; frequent
and violent transitions from one form of government to another;
political changes, not produced as formerly by the internal spirit or
genius of the different commonwealths-or by those animated contentions which gave room for the display of the noble and manly
passions-but effected at once by the will of a despot on a submissive, spiritless, and corrupted people.  Yet, amidst this general
weakness and degeneracy, there existed in a corner of this country
a small people till now scarcely known, who still retained their
ancient manners, and who preserved in a considerable degree the
ardor of true patriotism and the love of their ancient liberty.
These were the states of Achaia.
In those early times when all the cities of Greece, as if by
general consent, shook off the yoke of their domestic tyrants, the
cities of Achaia, Patrao, Dyme, Tritmea, Pharae, AEgium, and some
others, had armed for their common liberty, and, having deposed
or expelled their governors, formed a league of association on a
basis of perfect equality.  It was agreed that each of the cities
should be ruled by its own laws and magistrates; and that all
affairs regarding their common interests should be treated -in a
senate, which should assemble twice in the'year at AEgium, to
which convention each of the associated states should send their
deputies.  No treaty could be formed, no alliance made, no war
undertaken, or peace concluded, without the consent of the whole
body. Two presidents of the assembly were yearly elected, called,reII7rot, or prictors.  It was their duty to summon the states,
and in them the authority of the body was vested during the intervals when it was not assembled.  Such was the small but respectable republic of Achaia.




CH. v.]            TxHE ACHAIAN LEAGUE.                   720
Till the era of the division of Alexander's empire, the Achaians
had taken no share in the revolutions of Greece;, having no ambition of extending their own territory or power, and no wealth to
tempt the ambition of other states.  They were enslaved, however,
after that era by some of those turbulent governors, and several
of their cities were garrisoned by Polysperchon, Demetrius Poliorcetes Cassander, and Antigonus Gonatas. Others suffered from
the usurpation of domestic tyrants, and the ancient association
seemed entirely at an end. The following circumstance, however,
incited the states to a renewal of their league.  The people of
}Etolia, a set of lawless freebooters, emboldened by the disorders
of Greece, began to make incursions on Peloponnesus. The territories of the Achiaian states, lying immediately opposite to them,
were most exposed to their ravages.  On this occasion Dymae,
Patrae, Pharme, and Tritaea, renewed their league of association on
its'ancient principles, and they were joined soon after by the
Tegmaans, and some of the other states of Peloponnesus.  In one
respect they improved on their former constitution, by electing
only one president, or praetor, instead of two, and they were fortunate in choosing for that office a man truly deserving of it.
Aratus of Sicyon, when a youth of twenty years of age, had
acquired a high reputation by delivering his native state from a
domestic tyranny, and joining it to the associated republics.  This
young man was a singular phenomenon in those days of degeneracy.
He possessed uncommon endowments of mind, and a heart which
glowed with, the love of honor and of his country.  He:was vigilant, enterprising, and prompt in decision; and he possessed that
ready and forcible eloquence which is of the greatest importance
to the magistrate of a democracy.  Aratus was in the twentyeighth year of his age when he was elected praetor of Achaia; and,
invested with that honorable office, he formed the patriotic design
of delivering Peloponnesus from  the yoke of Macedonia.  In the
first year of his magistracy, he expelled the Macedonian garrison
from Corinth; a most important measure, which gave the united
states the command of the isthmus and entry to Pelopoilnesus.
The consequence of this success was that the states of Megara,
Trcezene, and Epidaurus joined the Achaian confederacy.
The republic of Achaia was not fitted to support an offensive
war, for two strong reasons.  A number of separate, independent
republics, however connected by a common interest, cannot always
act with a perfect unanimity, and their measures are consequently seldom  attended with that celerity of execution on which
success so much depends.  Moreover, the confederate states were
neither' populous nor wealthy, and, of course, they could not muster
a strong force in the field.  Aratus was quite sensible of these defects, and therefore bent his chief attention to the securing his
country from  attack, and firom the necessity of going to war; and
this he wisely judged. would be best effected by strengthening




'208                  UNIVERSAL H11STORY.              LBOOK HI
the league with the accession of some of the more powerful states
of Greece.
In that view he made his proposals both to Athens and Lacedzemon; but these commonwealths, though still affecting a passion
for liberty, could not, from a despicable pride, brook the thought
of owing their freedom  to the petty states of Achaia.  The situation of the Lacedwemonians at this time was'indeed such as to
engross all attention to their domestic concerns, as that republic
was actually in the very crisis of a revolution.
Agis IV. had succeeded to one branch of the throne of Sparta
a short time before Aratus was chosen praetor of the Achaian states.This prince, a better man than a wise politician, had cherished the
chimerical project of restoring the ancient laws of Lycurgus, as
conceiving this the only means of rescuing his country from the
disorders induced by the universal corruption of its manners.  But
there is a period when political infirmity has attained such a pitch
that recovery is impossible; and Sparta had arrived at that period.
The design of Agis, of course, embraced the radical refolm of a
new division of all the land of the republic-a project suffi lient to
rouse the indignation and secure the mortal enmity of the whole
of the higher class of citizens, and of almost every man of weight
and consideration in his country.  The plan was therefore to be
conducted with the greatest caution and secrecy till sufficiently
ripened for execution; but Agis was betrayed by his own confidants.  Leonidas, his colleague in the sovereignty, had imbibed a
relish for luxury fromt his Asiatic education'at the court of Seleucus,
and was thus easily persuaded to take the part of the richest citizens
in opposing this violent revolution, which threatened to reduce all
ranks of men to a level of equality.  The premature discovery of
his scheme was fatal to its virtuous author; for the party of his
opponents was so formidable, that after compelling Agis to take
shelter in the Temple of Minerva, they seized the opportunity of
his going to the bath, and dragged him to' the common prison,
where a tribunal of the Ephori; summoned by his colleague Leonidas, sat ready to judge him as a state criminal.  He was asked,
by whose evil counsel he had been prompted to disturb the laws
and government of his country?  "I needed none to prompt nme,"
said the king, "to  act as I thought right.  My design was to
restore your ancient laws, and to govern according to the plan of
the excellent Lycurgus; and though I see my death is inevitable,
I do not repent of my design. j'  The judges hereupon pronounced
sentence of death, and the virtuous Agis was carried forth from
their presence and immediately strangled.
This example did not deter Cleomenes, the son of LUonidas,
and his successor in one branch of the sovereignty, from cherishing
the same patriotic design which had proved fatal to Agis, and
which his own father had so keenly opposed.  Cleomenes proposed the twofold object of delivering Sparta from the Macedonian




Cn..j            REVOLUTION IN LACED^I}MON.               209
voloke and of restoring the ancient system of Lycurgus.  He began
by the judicious measure of attaching the army to his interest,
securing the oonfidence and allegiance of all the principal officers,
and dexterously removing from command such as he judged to be
unfriendly to the revolutionary design.   Several of the richer
citizens, and even some of the Ephori, from whom he expected
opposition, were on various pretences banished or put to death.
Trusting to the ready cooperation of the lower orders, he then
assembled the people, and detailing the great benefits to be expected firom a complete change of system, proclaimed the abolition
of all the debts, and beginning by divesting himself of the whole
of his property, made a new partition of the lands of the republic,
and restored the ancient plan of education, the institution of the
public tables, and, in a word, as nearly as possible, the long-forgotten regimen of Lycurgus. Cleomenes was hailed the second
founder and father of his country, and Greece resounded' with his
praise, and boundless applause and admiration of the regenerated
acedenmonians.
This revolution, which in reality was favorable to the great
object of the Achaian league, the subversion of the Macedonian'
influence in Greece, did not, however, meet with that cordial approbation which it ought to have found from the states of Achaia.
Instead of being the leaders in the great and patriotic design of
vindicating the national liberty, they now feared that Sparta was
destined to eclipse their glory by assuming that honorable preeminence.  Such was the influence of pride and jealousy, that
even tile virtuous Aratus now affected to consider Cleomenes and
the Spartans as cherishing views more hostile to the liberty and
independence of the Grecian republics, by elevating the hated
power of Lacedenmon, than even the control of the Macedonians.
The consequence was that, with a policy which it is, not easy to
justify upon any principle of disinterested patriotism, Aratus and
the Achaians now formed a str.t alliance with Macedon to oppose,
as they pretended, the ambitious design of the Spartans to be the
rulers of Greece.
Antigonus Doson at this time governed Macedonia, in the
minority of his nephew Philip, the son of Demetrius.  He gladly
entered into the designs of Aratus, which he naturally thought
were most effectually subservient to the Macedonian interests;
and entering Peloponnesus with a large arirly, attacked the Spartans under Cleomenes, and in one sanguinary battle left above
5000 dead on the field.  Cleomenes, seeing all was lost, fled for
shelter to Egypt.  Sparta fell into the hands of the conqueror,
and its newly regenerated constitution, with its short-lived freedom,
were now  annihilated for ever.   Antigonus imposed upon the
Lacedaemonians an easy yoke.   Satisfied with an acknowledgment of their submission to the control of Macedon, he allowed
them to model their laws and constitution as they should judge
VOL.. I                27




v210                 UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK Ii.
best, and to elect their own magistrates.' It may be believed they
made no further attempt to revive the system of Lycurgus.
Antigonus died soon after, and was succeeded in the kingdom
of Macedon by his nephew  Philip, then a youth of seventeen
years of age, endowed by nature with excellent talents and many
valuable qualities of a sovereign.  He was brave, eloquent, and
of great address in moulding men to his purposes, which were not
always the designs of a man of virtue and probity.  Philip owed
much to his uncle's care of his education and the early instruction
he received in the science of government: he possessed great
ambition, and was not scrupulous in the means of indulging it
His object very early appeared to be the dominion of all Greece;
and the want of a bond of union among its states, and their eternal
jealousies and quarrels, gave him every advantage.  His ambition,
however, and a train of success in the beginning of his career,
inspiled him with a confidence in his own plans, which in the end
proved his destruction and the ruin of his own kingdom.  After
some considerable successes against the 2Etolians, which gave him
a high character as a general, the important contest at that time
carrying on between the Romans and the Carthaginians appeared
to offer to Philip, by the medium of a junction with Hannibal, the
means not only of subjugating Greece, but of sharing in the spoils
of Italy.  Seduced by these flattering prospects, Philip concluded
a treaty with Hannibal, by which he agreed to furnish a large fleet
and army for the conquest of Italy; in return for which service,
Hannibal agreed, after subduing the Romans, to invade Epirus
and reduce it under the dominion of Macedon.  This treaty was
carried so far into effect by a large fleet under Philip, which
entered the Ionian Gulf and seized the seaport of Oricum; but a
fatal defeat ensued, and the armament of Philip returned with dishonor and mortification to his own ports.
The period was now come when the Romans first obtained a
footing in Greece.  This devoted nation was now prepared for
slavery, and its destiny could not be averted.  Philip, mortified
by his late disaster, now bent his whole thoughts on the sovereignty of Greece.  He was in league with the Achaian states;
but the virtues of Aratus were an insurmountable bar to his ambition; it was therefore necessary that this obstacle should be
removed, and the Macedonian was not scrupulous in his choice of
means.  He procured the death both of Aratus and of his son by
poison, and in their extinction the last feeble prop of the Grecian
liberty was cut away.  Philip had now  the command of the
4chaian league, and seemed fast advancing to the attainment of
his great object; but in provoking the enmity of the Romans, he
had imprudently paved the way for his own destruction.  Having
renewed his attacks upon the AEtolians, this people, with a very
natural but most imprudent policy, courted aid from the Romans,
who cheerfully complied with a request which was to,:avenge their




ci..l ]             FALL OF MACEDON.                    211
own quarrel and gratify their passion of conquest.  They declared
themselves protectors of the liberties of Greece, which they were
determined to defend against invasion from any other quarter than
their own.  Flaminius beinr  sent with a large army into that
country, defeated Philip in a decisive engagement at Cynoscephale, and speedily comp6lled him to sue for peace upon these
hurniliating terms, that all the Greek cities, both in Europe and
Asia, should be declared free and independent of Macedbnia; that
every G-reek or Roman captive should be set at liberty; that he
should surrender to the Romans the whole of his armed ships of
war, with the exception of five small- vessels, and pay the sum of
1000 talents; and, finally, that his son Demetrius should be given
ul) to the Romnans as a hostage for security of the performance of
these conditions.  Such was the infatuation of the degenerate
Greeks, that this treaty, -vwhich distinctly proclaimed their subjection to a foreign power much more formidable than Macedonia;
arnd now rapidly advancing to universal tdominion, was hailed by
them as a new epoch of liberty.
The treaty of Cynoscephalae in reality put a period to the kingdoml of Macedon.  Philip sunk into absolute insignificance.  Seduced by false information from his youngest son Perseus, he caused
Demetrius, his elder son, to be put to death,  He died himself
soon after; and Perseus, defeated in the battle of Pydna by the
consul _Emilius, was compelled to surrender himself with all his
family into the hands of the victor.  Precipitated from the throne,
this unhappy prince attended in chains the triumphal chariot of
~.nilius, and died a prisoner in Italy.  Thus ended the kingdom
of Macedonia, which now became a Roman province, under the
government of a proconsul.
The Romans, from the period of the conquest of the Macedonian kingdomn, made rapid advances to the dominion of all Greece.
In this progress their art was more conspicuous than their virtue.
They gained their end by fostering.dissensions between the republics; offering themselves as arbiters of differences, which they
contrived should always terminate in their own favor, and bringing
over by corruption the principal men of the different states to their
interest.  While they were confessedly the most powerful nation
on earth, they employed that species of policy which is excusable
only in the weak.  A procedure of this kind is not fitted to command the reverence of a generous enemy.  The Achaian states
held that policy in contempt, and they did not scruple to insult
the deputies of imperial Rome.  This drew upon them the thunder of the Roman arms.  Metellus marched into Greece with his'egions, gave them battle, and entirely defeated them. Mummius,
the consul, terminated the work, and made an easy conquest of
the whole of Greece, which from that time became a Roman province, under the name of Achama.
Athens alone had offered no resistance, and therefore could not




212                  UNIVERSAL IISTORYT              [BOOK 11
be said to be as yet subdued.  This versatile republic had alway-s
flattered the predominant power, and thence had preserved a bastard species of liberty much akin to servitude.  The Romans
assisted the Athenians in a war against the Acarnanians, but
Athens unwisely deprived herself of this alliance by concluding a
treaty with an enemy of the Romans, Ntithridates, king of Pontus.
Aristion was the adviser of this imprudent measure, and Mithridates rewarded his, services by raising him to the tyranny of
Athens,; an elevation  which was dearly purchased, for Sylla
besieged and took the city of Athens, delivered it for a day to the
fury and plunder of his troops, and put Aristion to death.  From
that period, the Athenians quietly submitted to the dominion of'
Rome. They were allowed to retain their form of a democracy,
which was now more quietly administered that their liberty was
extinct, and there was no object to rouse the passions or inflame
the turbulent spirit of the populace.
The Romans treated Greece with more peculiar favor and distinction than any other of the conquered provinces of th6 empire.
The ancient habit of associating with that people the idea of all
that in past ages was respectable in virtue or in valor, and more
recently the idea of a singular eminence in philosophy, and the
culture of the fine arts, had assuredly great weight in maintaining
this favorable opinion of a degenerate and fallen people.  Low as
they had sunk in the scale of true greatness, the Greeks were yet
in some respects superior to their conquerors.  Rome was arrived
at that period when the severer virtues which distinguished the
first ages of the commonwealth had yielded to that refinement
which arises from, and in its turn cherishes, the cultivation of letters and the taste for the fine arts.  In these respects, Greece was
to Rome an instructer and a model.
Graecia capta ferum victorem cepit, et artes
Intulit agresti Latio. —Ior. Ep. ad d.ug.
Hence she was still regarded in an honorable point of view by her
conquerors,-a consideration which leads us, at this period of the
termination of the history of Greece, to take a short view of the
national character and attainments in those departments of art and
science in which the Greeks still continued to make a distinguishled
figure among the contemporary nations.  Previously, however, to
these considerations, the preceding slketch of the history of Greece
furnishes naturally some political reflections  which shall be the
subject of the next chapter.




otil VW.              GREECE-RETROSPECT.                        215
CHAPTER VI.
Political reflections arising from the history of Greece-Retrospective viewConstitutional defects in the leading republics-A pure democracy is.a chimera-All government essentially of the nature of a monarchy-Error of
Montesquieu's theory-Ferguson's idea of a perfect republic-Democracy
unfavorable to patriotism-lDanger of generalizing in politics-A rude state
of society favorable to patriotism —Greece a strong instance of this-Character of Greece after the Roman conquest.
WE have now traced Greece from her origin; from the rude and
barbarous periods when she owed even the most necessary arts of
life to foreign instructers, through every stage of her progress to
the highest rank among the civilized nations of the earth.  We
have seen the foundation and rise of her independent states; the
vigorous perseverance by which they succeeded in shaking off the
yoke of intolerable tyranny, and establishing a popular system of
government; the alternate differences of these states from petty
quarrels, the fruit of ambition and the love of power; while,
at the same time they cordially united their strength and resources
to oppose foreign hostilities, when such were formidable enough
to threaten their liberties as a nation.  We have remarked the
domestic disorders which sprang from  the abuse of that freedom
which these republics enjoyed; and, finally, that general corruption
of manners which, tainting all the springs of public virtue, and
annihilating  patriotism, at length brought this illustrious nation
entirely  under subjection  to a foreign  yoke.  The revolutions
which in this progress the states of Greece underwent, and the
situations into which they were thrown by their alternate connection and differences, as well as by their wars with foreign powers,
were so various, that their history is a school of instruction in
politics, as there is scarce a doctrine in that important science
which may not find an example or an illustration from their history.
The science of politics, like every other subject of philosophical speculation, admits of a variety of opposite and contradictory
opinions-a truth the more to be lamented that of all sciences it is
that, where for the interest of mankind it were most to be wished
tlat our reasonings should rest upon solid and fixed principles.
If, however, there is in reality any criterion of the solidity of
abstract principles in political reasoning, it must be when we,ascertain their coincidence or disagreement with actual experience
in the history of nations.  I shall adopt this criterion in laying
before my readers a few reflections which naturally arise from the
foregoing short delineation of the Grecian history.




214                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK II,
The miserable oppression which, according to all accounts of
the ancient historians, the states of Greece sustained under their
first governors, a set of tyrants, who owed their elevation to violence, and whose rule was subject to no control fiorm existing laws
or constitutional restraints, was assuredly a nlost justifiable motive
on the part of the people for emancipating themselves from that
state of servitude, and for abolishing entirely that worst of governments-a pure despotism.   It is therefore with pleasure we
remark, in the early history of this nation, the noble exertion by
which those states shook off the yoke of their tyrants, and established for themselves a new system of government on the just and
rational basis of an equality of rights and privileges in all the
members of the commonwealth.  We admit, without scruple, the
belief that those new republics were framed by their virtuous legislators in the true spirit of patriotism.  But the intentions of the
legislator are no test of the actual merits of the institutions thelmselves: and it is certain that those boasted republics were very
far from exhibiting in practice that perfect system of political freedom which was expected from them in theory.  We seek in vain
either in the history of Athens or of Lacedarnon, for the beautiful
idea on which speculative writers have exercised their fancy of a
well-ordered commonwealth.
In treating formerly of the peculiar constitution of those two
great and leading states, we endeavored to point out such circumstances as appeared to be defects in the constitution of those
political fabrics.  In the republic of Sparta, Lycurgus, by exterminating luxury, by the equal partition of the lands, and by banishing every motive to the ambition of individuals, certainly laid
the foundation of that equality among the citizens of his commonwealth which is essential to the constitution of a perfect republic.
Yet, under the Spartan government, there were some circumstances
which seem  totally adverse to this spirit of equality.  It was
adverse to equality that there should be any citizen invested with
the honors and appendages of royalty. The idea of a king possessing rank without power is an absurdity; and if the law denies
it-him, it will be his constant endeavor to wrest and arrogate it.
The high authority of the Ephori was likewise adverse to the
spirit of equality.  There was a perpetual contention for superiority of power between those magistrates and the kings; and the
people, dividing themselves into parties, bribed to support those
opposite and contending interests, furnished a continual source of
faction and disorder.
In the Athenian republic the great defect of the constitution
seemed to be in this, that it was doubtful where the supreme power
was definitively lodged.  The senate was, in theory, a wise institution, for it possessed the sole power of convoking the assemblies of
the people, and of preparing all business that was to be the subiect of discussion in those assemblies.  But, on the other hand,




CH. VI.1             GREECE-RETROSPECT.                       215
this senate being annually elected, its members were ever under
the necessity of courting that people for their votes, and of flattermg their pr, judices and passions, by adopting and proposing measures which hlad no other end than to render themselves popular.
These delegates were therefore the mean dependants on *the mob
who elected them. The guardians nominally of the people's rights,
they were themnselves the abject slaves of a corrupted populace.
The wise purpose of the institution was thus utterly defeated by
the- single circumstance of the senators being annually elected.
There were other radical defects in the constitution of Athens. All
the offices of the state were by Solon destined to be filled from
thre three first classes of tlhe richer citizens.  The fourth,or
infetrior class, (OvteS,) had. however, an equal right of suffrage
in the public assembly, and being superior in number to all the
other three, had it in their power to carry every question against
the higher classes.  Thus there was a perpetual source of discord
inherent in this constitution; the power and' pre-eminence of office
exclusively vested in one division of the people, which they would
ie-alously maintain by every possible means; while, at the same
time, the other was furnished with arms sufficient to defeat that
power altogether, or, at least, to maintain at all times a violent
strugiole for superiority.'Tie best apology that can be made for Solon is, that his intentilons were good.  He knew  that a constitution purely democratic
is an absolute chimera in politics.  He knew that the people are
themselves incapable of exercising rule, and that, under one name
or anothel:, they must be led and controlled.  He wished, therefore, to give them this control by the natural means which the rich
possess over the poor; in other words, to moderate the discordant
counsels of a populace, in whom lay the rights of deciding, by the
influence of an aristocracy who might lead or dictate those decisions; but he knew  not how to accomplish this by a clear and
explicit definition of the powers of the one body over the other;
whence it happened, that neither part of the public having its rights
and privileges well defined, they were'perpetually quarrelling about
the limits of authority,. and instead of a salutary and cordial cooperation for the general good of the state, it was an eternal contest f6r
supremacy, and a mutual desire of each other's abasement.
These, which may be estee&ned radical defects in the constitution of the two principal republics of Greece, were heightened by
several very impolitic laws and customs peculiar to each, which,
as I formerly touched on them, I shall not recapitulate.  It is.ufficient to say, that the detail of the systems of Solon and Lycurgus, such as they are described to us by ancient writers, and the
history of those rival republics, both in their quarrels with each
other, in their foreign wars, and above all in their intestine factions
and disorders, afford full conviction that the form of government
which they enjoyed was in itself extremely faulty. The revolu..




216                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK I1
tions to which those states, and particularly the former, was subject, plainly prove that their constitutions were not framed for
stability, or for any long measure of duration; and the condition
of the people (the true criterion of the merit of any political fabric) was, in reality, such as to partake more of-actual servitude
and oppression than the condition of the subjects of the most
despotic monarchies.  It is a known fact, that the slaves formed
by far the greater part of the inhabitants, both of the Athenian
and Lacedaemonian states; and to these, more especially at Lacedamon, the free citizens behaved with the most inhuman rigor.
Neither were the free citizens more inclined to a humane and
liberal conduct to those'of their own condition; a debtor became
ipso facto the slave and bondman of his creditor, who might compel him  to labor in bondage and fetters at his pleasure.  Thus, a
great part, even of the free citizens, was actually enslaved to the
other; a circumstance which  we shall see, under the Roman
commonwealth, was the source of the most violent civil commotions. W've may judge then with what propriety these can be
termed firee governments, where abject slavery was the condition
of the majority of the people.  Nor were the superior classes in
the actual enjoyment of a rational liberty and independence.  They
were perpetually divided into factions, which servilely ranked thermselves under the banners of the contending demagogues; and these
maintained their influence over their partisans by the most shameful corruption and bribery, of which the means were supplied alone
by the plunder of the public money.  The whole, therefore, was
a regular system of servitude, which left nothing free or ingenuous
in the condition of individuals, nor any thing that can justly furnish
encomium to an unprejudiced advocate for the dignity of human
nature.
If such was the condition of the chief republics of antiquity,
whose liberty we so frequently hear extolled with boundless encomium, and whose constitution we are taught' from our childhood to
admire, (and, in fact, this may fairly be ranked among the prejudices with which ingenuous youth can scarcely fail to be tinctured
from a classical education,) it is not, perhaps, unreasonable to concltde, that a pure and perfect democracy is a thing not attainable
by man, constituted as he is of contending elements of vice and
virtue, and ever mainly influenced by the predominant principle
of self-interest.  It may, indeed, be confidently asserted, that
there never was that government called a republic, which was not
ultimately ruled by a single will, and, therefore, (however bold
may seem  the paradox,) virtually and substantially a monarchy.
The only difference between governments, with respect to the
political freedom of the subject, consists in the greater or the
smaller number of restraints by which the regulating will is controlled.  This subject is sufficiently important to merit a short
illustration.




CH.i VI.]            GREECE-RETROSPECT.                      217
In every regular state there must be a governing power, whose
will regulates the community.  In the most despotic governments,
that power is lodged in a single person, whose will is subject to
no other control than that which arises from  the fear of his own
deposition.  Of this we have an example in the Ottoman government, which approaches the nearest of any monarchy we know
to a pure despotism.   But in most monarchies, the will of the
person called the sovereign is limited by certain constitutional
restraints which he cannot transgress with. safety.  In the British
government the will of the prince is controlled by a parliament;
in other limited monarchies, by a council of state, whose powers
are acknowledged and defined.  But this parliament, or council,
which thus limits the will of the prince, is in those matters where
it exercises its right of limitation, superior to the will of the prince,
and, therefore, in fact, the sovereign power of the state.  Now
this controlling power, consisting apparently of a number of wills,
is, in reality, always led by a single will; by some individual of
great and commanding talents, to whose acknowledged superiority
his equals -in rank or office either all pay a willing obedience, oi
whose partisans are generally sufficient to outnumber his opponents.  Thus we have a single will in the council opposed to, or
controlling the will of the prince.  But where there are two contending wills, one must of necessity yield to the other.  The king
must either rule the leader of the council, or the latter must rule
the former; and in this case, though not nominally, it cannot be
denied that the latter is, in reality, in any such exercise of - his
will, the supreme power of the state.
Thus it is in limited monarchies.  Now how  does the mak:er
stand with respect to a republic or democracy?   Precisely the
same.  The people flatter themselves that they have the sovereign power.  These are, in fact, words without meaning.  It is
true they elect their governors; but how  are these elections
brought about? In every instance of election by tile mass of a
people-through the influence of those governors themselves, and
by means the most opposite to a free and disinterested choice, by
the basest corruption  and bribery.  But these governors once
elected, where is the boasted freedom of the people?  They must
submit to their rule and control, with the same abandonment of
their natural liberty, the freedom of their will; and the command
of their actions, as if they were under the rule of a monarch.  But
these governors, it is said, are, in a republic, chosen from the
people itself, and therefore will respect its interests; they are not
one but many, and the will of each will have a control from that
of his fellows.  That they are chosen from the people affords no
pledge that they will either be wiser men, or less influenced by
selfish ambition, or the passion of tyrannizing; all experience goes
to prove the contrary  and that the will of the many is in truth a
mere chimera, and ultimately resolves into the will of one, we
VOL. I.                 28




218                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK II
have already shown.  An equality of power and a freedom of will
cannot exist in a society of a hundred rulers, or even in a decemvirate,  a triumvirate, or barely in a divided sovereignty, as the
conmu-ionwealth of Sparta.   The superior ability will constantly
drawv after it the superior command, and be in effect the sovereign
of the state; it matters not under which name, whether emperor,
king, consul, protector, stadtholder, or simply tribune or burgomaster.
If that principle I set out with is a truth, viz.: that actual experience deduced firom  the history of nations is the surest test of
the truth or falsehood of any doctrine of politics, it may be no use-!lss task if we endeavor to apply this criterion to some political
doctrines wvhich have the support of a g eat name, and have on
that account obtained a pretty general currency.
The author of the " Spirit of Laws," a work*which: must ever
bh  regarded as the production of a most enlightened mind, has
built a great deal of plausible and ingenious reasoning on this general idea, that the three distinct formns of government, the monarchical, the despotic, and the republican, are influenced by three
separate principles, upon which the whole system  in each form  is
constructed, and on which it must depend for its support.  "The
principle of the monarchical form," says Montesquieu,' is honor;
of the despotical, fear; and of the republican, virtue:" a position
wihich, if true, would at once determine to which of the three forms
the preference ought to be given in speculating on their comparative degrees of merit.
In order to examine this important position, which is the fotndat:on of a most elaborate theory, and from which the author draws
conclusions deeply affecting the interests of society, we shall take'the example of the republic, with the nature and character of'
which form, we have had some opportunity of being acquainted
from the preceding short sketch of the history of the Grecian
commonwealths.
The ingenious author of an Essay on the History of Civil Society * thus enlarges on the idea of M. Montesquieu: —   In
democracy," says he, "men must love equality; they must respect
the rights of their fellow citizens; they must unite by the common ties of affection to the state.  In forming personal pretensions, they must be satisfied with that degree of consideration
which they can procure by their abilities fairly measured with
tlhose of an opponent.  They must labor for the public without
hope of profit.  They must reject every attempt to create a
personal dependence.   Candor, force and elevation of mind, in
short, are the props of democracy, and virtue is the principle required to its preservation."  A beautiful picture-a state indeed
of consummate perfection!  But the author proceeds:-"lIow
* Dr. Adam Fergusson.




CH. VI.1              GREECE-RETROSPECT.                     219
ardently should mankind wish for the form, if it tended to establish the principle, or were in every instance a sure indication of
its presence!  But perhaps we must have possessed the principle,
in order, with any hopes of advantage, to receive the form."  Tlhe
last sentence is a fair and just conclusion, which needed not the
cautious form in which it is, expressed.  ThQ author plainly intimates his own opinion, in which every thinking mind will agree
with hillm, that this beautifiul picture, which he has drawn correctly
after the sketch of Montesquieu, is nothing better than an Utopian
theory; a splendid chimera, descriptive.of a state of society that
never did, and never could exist; a republic not of men, but of
angels.
For where, it may be asked, was that democracy ever found on
earth, where, inthe words of this description, men loved equality;
were satisfied with the degree of coansideration they could procure
by their abilities fairly measured with those of an opponent, (a
circurmstance in itself utterly destructive of equality,) labored for
the public without hope of profit, and rejected every attempt to
create a personal dependence?  Did such a government ever
exist, or, while, society consists of human beings, is it possible that
such ever should  exist?  While man is a being instigated by the
love of power-a passion visible in an infant, and common to us
even with the inferior animals —he will seek personal superiority
in preference to every matter of a general concern; or at best, lihe
will employ himself in advancing the public good, as the means
of individual distinction and elevation: he will promote the interest of the state from the selfish but most usefiul passion of' makling
himself considerable in that establishment which he labors to
aggrandize.
Such is the true picture of man as a political agent.  But let
us not be understood, that what is here affirmed with regard to
the community at large, is strictly true of every member who
composes it.  If we look in vain for disinterested patriotism  in
tile aggregate of a people, it would be a rash and unjust conclusion
to assert that no such virtue exists in the breasts of individuals.
The same evidence of history which proves the truth of the one
assertion, would suffice to disprove the other.  The annals of the
Greek and Roman states record examples of the most exalted
patriotic virtue in a few  distinguished characters, whose names
harve come down with honor to modern times, and are destined to
survive to the latest posterity.  But these examples afford in
themselves a proof which fully confirms the general proposition.
The admiration which those virtuous individuals excited  while
they lived, the lasting honors that attend their memory, demonstrate the singularity and rareness of that character, the difficulty
of its attainment, and thence the distinguished lhonors which it
claims, as approaching as near as possible to the ideal perfection
of human nature.




220                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK II
Dissenting as I do from  the notion of Montesquieu, that virtue
is the principle of a democratic government, I am  yet ready to
allow (what may seem at first view paradoxical) that this form of
government is the best adapted to produce, though not the most
frequent, yet the most striking, examples of virtue in individuals
But why? Even for a reason the very opposite to the opinion of
that ingenious writer.  A  democratic government opposes more
impediments to disinterested patriotism  than any other form.  To
surmount these, a 1pitch of virtue is necessary which, in other situations, where the obstacles are less great and numerous, is not
called into exertion. The nature of a republican government,gives to every member of the state an equal right to cherish views
of ambition, and to aspire to the highest offices of the comnmonwealth; it gives to every individual the same title with his fellows
to aspire at the government qf the whole.. Where talents alone
are sufficient to obtain weight and distinction, we may look for a
display of ambition in all who have a high opinion of their own
abilities,  The number of candidates excites rivalships, contentions, and factions.  The glorious names of liberty and patriotism
are always found effectual to rouse and inflame the multitude;
rarely indeed to blind them to the real character and views of the
demagogue, but ever sufficient to be a mask for their own love of
tumult and the hatred of their superiors.  In such a state of society, how rare is genuine virtue; how singular the character of a'truly disinterested patriot!  He appears and he is treated as an
imposter; he attempts to serve his country in its councils, or in
offices; he is calumniated, reviled, and persecuted; he dies in
disgrace or in banishment; and the same envy which maligned
him living, embalms him  dead, and showers encomiums on his
memory, to depress and mortify the few surviving imitators of his
virtues.  We have' seen, from the history of the Grecian states,
that a democracy has produced some splendid models of genuine
patriotism in the persons of Aristides, Miltiades, and Cimon.  We
have seen the reward that attended that character uinder this form
of government, of which we are taught to believe that virtue is the
principle.
In the science of politics, more than In any other, the greatest
caution is necessary in the adoption of general positions.  The
theory of IM. Montesquieu leads, apparently by fair induction, to
a variety of consequences most deeply interesting to man, not
only in his political, but in his moral capacity.  How seriously
ought those general propositions to be canvassed and scrutinized,
from  which their author has deduced such consequences as the
following!  That as in a democracy there is no occasion for the
principle of honor, so in a monarchy virtue is not at all necessary;
that under the latter government the state can subsist independently
of the love of country, of the passion of true glory, and of every
heroic virtue; that the laws supply the place of those virtues, and




CH. VI.]             GREECE-RETROSPECT.                      221
the state dispenses with them; that under a monarchy, a virtuous
man ought not to hold office.; that public employments ough1t to be
venal;  and that crime;, if kept secret, are of no consequence. f
If, instead of theoretical speculation, we take history for our guide,
and thence form  a fair estimate of the condition of the subject
under all the different forms of the political machine, we shall be
in no danger of having our reason blinded and abused by such
absurd and pernicious' chimeras, with whatever sophistry they are
disguised to our understanding.
The history of the states of Greece exhibits.in its earliest period a very general diffusion of the patriotic spirit, and the love of
ingenuous freedom.  Those virtuous feelings became gradually
corrupted as the nation advanced in power and splendor.  Selfish
ambition and the desire of. role in the commonwealth came in
place of the thirst for national glory; and at length the enthusiasm
for freedom, which was at first the glowing character of the Grecian
states, gave place to an enthusiasm of another kind, still of an
ingenuous nature, though far less worthy in its aim,-an admiration
of the fine arts, a passion for the objects of taste, and all those
refinements which are the offspring of luxury.
Patriotism always exists in the greatest degree in rude nations,
and in an early period of society.  Like all other affections and
passions, it operates with the greatest force where it meets with
the greatest.difficulties.  It seems to be a virtue which grows from
opposition; which subsists in its greatest vigor amidst turbulence
and dangers; but in a state of ease and safety, as if wanting its
appropriate nourishment, it languishes and decays. We" must not
then wonder at that difference of patriotic character which distinguished the Greeks in the early ages of their history, from that
by which they were known in their more advanged and more
luxurious periods.  It is a law of nature to which no experience
has ever furnished an exception, that the rising grandeur and opulence of a nation must be balanced by the decline of its heroic
virtues. When we find in the latter ages of the Grecian history)
and in the declension of the Roman commonwealth and subsequent
periods of thb empire, no traces of that noble spirit of patriotism
which excited our respect and admiration when they were infant
and narrow  establishments, it is not that the race of men had
degenerated, or that the same soil and climate which formerly
produced heroes could now  only rear abject slaves and luxurious
tyrants. Nature is still the same; and man comes the same from
the hand of nature; but artificial causes have thrown him into that
situation which affords no exercise to passions which once had
their amplest scope and operation; which banishes virtue by dimin* Spirit of Laws, b. viii., c. 9.
t Spirit of Laws, b. iii., c. 5




~22>                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK II
ihing its objects and annihilating its most substantial rewards; for
weallh and ease and safety deny all exertion to heroic virtue; and
in a society marked by these characteristics, such endowment can
neither lead to power, to eminence, nor to fame.
Such was the situation of Greece, when, extending her conquests and importing both the wealth and the manners of foreign
nations, she lost with her ancient poverty her ancient virtue.
Venality and corruption pervaded every department of her states,and became the spring of all public measures, which, instead of
tendimng to the national welfare, had for their only object the gratification of the selfish passions of individuals.  Under these circumstances, it was no wonder that she should be'come an easy prey
to a foreign power, which in fact rather purchased her in the market, than subdued her by force of arms.
Yet Greece, thus degenerate and fallen from the proud eminence
she once maintained, continued in some respects to hold a distinguished rank among the contemporary nations.  Conquered as she
was, she continued in one point of view to preserve a high superiority even over the power which had subdied and enslaved her.
Her progress in letters and philosophy, and her unrivalled eminence in the arts, compensated in some degree the loss of her
national liberties, and forced even from  her conquerors an avowal
of her superiority in every department of science and mental
energy.  The victors did not blush to beegme the scholars of the
vanquished.  The most eminent of the Roman orators perfected
themselves in their art in the school of Athens. The Greek
philosophy had for some ages its disciples in Italy; and from the
golden er'a of the administration of Pericles at Athens, the Greeks
furnished the models of all that is excellent in the arts of poetry,
painting, sculpture, and architecture.
We proceed, therefore, to take a short survey of the attainments
of the Greeks. in those departments of science and of art, beginning with an account of their extraordinary eminence in sculpture,
painting, and architecture, in which they arrived at a pitch of
perfection which has been the admiration and envy of all succeed.
ing ages.




Cd: V1.1              GREECE-RETROSPECT.                        223
CHAPTER VII.
The Greeks not eminent in the Usefiul Arts-Commerce —Superiority in the
Fine Arts —Greek Architecture —Gothic Architecture —Scuilp ttre - Infbri.
ority of the Moderns-Greek religion favorable to Sculpture and PaintingGreek Painters.
ITr is not among the Greeks that we are to look for the greatest
improvement in the useful or the necessary arts of life.  When
we speak of the eminence of this people in the arts, we are understood to mean those which, by distinction, are termed  the fine
arts, or those which mark the refinement of a people, and which
come in the train of luxury.  Agriculture, which deservedly holds
the first rank among the useful arts of life, does not appear ever
to have attained a remarkable degree of advancement among the
Greeks.*   At Sparta, this, as well as other arts, being confined to
the slaves, it is not there that we are to look for any remarkab]e,
progress in those departments.  With respect to Attica, the soil
of that country was naturally barren: its best produce was the
olive; and the Athenians the more readily confined themselves to
that branch of husbandry, that it was little, if at all, attended to in
any of the other states of Greece.  That Attica produced little or
no grain is evident from  this fact, mentioned by Demosthenes,
that the Athenians imported annually 400,000 medimni of corn.
The  mnedimnus was somewhat more than four pecks of English
measure.
Deficient as the Greeks seem to have been in agriculture, they
were not much more considerable as a commercial people.  Xenophon, indeed, in his treatise on the Public Revenue, advises his
countrymen to spare no pains in advancing their commerce, and
lays it down as a sound maxim, that the riches of individuals constitute the strength of a state: but such ideas were repugnant to
the common notions of his countrymen, at least in the earlier periods of the republics.  The laws of Lycurgus, we have seen, proscribed commerce, with all other arts, as tending to produce an
inequality of wealth: nor did the system  of Solon give any
encouragement to  trade.   Notwithstanding  these  impediments,
however, from the time when the Greeks had seen and tasted the
* Plato de Legg. 1. 7, and Aristotle in his Politic. 1. 8, c. 10, both explode the
practice of agriculture by the free.born citizens, and confine it to the slaves.




0224                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK II
Asiatic luxuries, from the era of the invasion of Xerxes, the Athenians began to cultivate commerce with considerable assiduity
Corintt, we know, and the Greek colony of Syracuse, became
fioom  that source extremely opulent.  They navigated the Mediterranean in large vessels, capable of containing 200 men; and in
the age of Alexander we have seen a voyage performed, of ten
months' duration, in sailing from the mouth of the Indus to Susa,
in the farther extremity of the Persian Gulf.
But these were not the arts for. which Greece was ever remarkable among the nations of antiquity.  We must now speak of
those for which she was eminently distinguished; in which she
surpassed all the contemporary states, and of which the remaining
monuments are at this day the models of anxious imitation, and
the confessed standard of excellence in the judgment of the most
polished nations of modern times.  I speak of what are termed
the fine arts, in all of which, architecture, sculpture, painting, and
nmusic, the Greeks were superlatively excellent.
After the defeat of Xerxes, the Greeks, secure for some time
from  foreign invaders, and in full possession of their liberty,
achieved with distinguished glory, may certainly be considered as
at the summit of their grandeur as a nation.  They maintained
for a considerable time their power and independence, and distinguished themselves during that period by an universality of genius
unknown to other ages and nations.   The fine arts bear a near
affinity to each other; and it has seldom  been known in any age
7yhich produced or encouraged  artists in one department, that
there were wanting others wlho displayed similar excellence in the
rest.  Of this, both ancient and modern history affords ample
proof, in the ages of Pericles, of Leo X., and of Lewis XIV.
The arts broke out at once with prodigious lustre at Athens, under
the luxurious administration  of Pericles.  In architecture and
sculptire, Phidias at that time distinguished himself by such superior ability, that his works were regarded as wonders by the
ancients, as long as any knowledge or taste remained among
them.  His brother Panaeus (or Panahnas) was an able assistant
-in some of his noblest works, and is himself distinguished as the
artist who painted the famous picture in the Pemcile at Athens,
representing the battle of Marathon, which is described by Pausanias and Pliny as so perfect a picture, that it presented striking
portraits of the leaders on both sides.  It was firom the designs of
Phidias that many of the noblest buildings of Athens were reared;
and from the example of these, a just and excellent taste in architecture soon diffused itself over all Greece.  Phidias had many
disciples; and after his time arose a succession of eminent architects, sculptors, and painters, who maintained those sister arts in
high perfection for above a century, till after the death of Alexander the Great.  This, therefore, may be termed the golden age
of the arts in Greece; while in those departments the contempo



taI VEI,]             GREECE-RETROSPECT.                     22
rary nations were yet in the rudest ignorance.  We shall afterwards see what reason there is to believe that the Etruscans were
an exception from this observation: but it is certain that, whatever were their attainments in the fine arts in those remote ages,
their successors, tile Romnans, inherited none of that knowledge
firom them; for at the period of the conquest of Greece, the Romans had not a tincture of taste in those arts, till they caught the
infection from  the precious. spoils which the sole love of plunder
then imported into Italy.  But of this change operated on the
taste and manners of the Romans, we shall, in its proper place,
treat more at large.  It is sufficient here to observe, that even
when time had brought the arts to the highest perfection they
ever attained among the Romans, this people never ceased to acknowledge the high superiority of the Greeks, of which-we have
thlis convincing proof, that when the Roman authors celebrate
any exquisite production of art, it is ever the work of a Phidias,
Praxiteles, Lysippus, Glycon, Zeuxis, Apelles, Parrhasius, or, in
fine9 of some artist who adorned that splendid period, and not of
those who had worked at Rome, or who had lived nearer to their
own times than the age of Alexander the Great.
The Greeks are universally acknowledged as the parents of
architecture, or at least of that peculiar style of which all after
ages have confessed the superior excellence.  The Grecian architecture consisted of three different manners, or what artists havb
termed the three distinct orders; the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian.
The Doric was probably the first regular order among the Greeks.
It has a masculine grandeur, and a superior air of strength to both
thle others.  It is, therefore, the best adapted to works where
mnagnitude and sublimity are the principal objects.  Some of the
most ancient temples of Greece were of this order, particularly
that of Theseus at Athens, built ten years after the battle of
Marathon, that is, 481 years before the Christian era; a fabric
which has stood imore than 2300 years, and is at this day almost
entire.
One observation may here be made which is applicable to all the
works of taste.  The character of sublimity is chaste and simple.
In the arts dependent on design; if the artist aim at this character,
he must disregard all trivial decorations; nor must the eye be distracted by a multiplicity of parts.  In architecture, there must be
few divisions in the principal members of the building, and the
~ palrts must be large and of ample relief.  There must be a modesty of decoration, contemning all minuteness of ornament, which
distracts the eye, that ought to be filled with the general mass, and
with the proportions of the greater parts to each other.  In this
respect the Doric is confessedly superior to all the other orders of
architecture, as it unites strength and majesty with a becoming
simplicity, and the utmost symmetry of proportions.
As the beautiful is more congenial to some tastes than the
VOL. I.              29




226                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BooK XX.
sublime, the lightness and elegance of the Ionic order will, perhaps, find more admirers than the chastened severity of the Doric.
The latter has been compared to the robust and muscular proportions of a man, while the former has been?ikened to the finer, more
slender and delicate proportions of a woman.  Yet the character
of this order is likewise simplicity, which is as essential a requisite
to true beauty as it is to grandeur and sublimity.  But the simplicity of beauty is not inconsistent with that degree of ornuainent
which would derogate from  the simplicity of the sublime.  Tihe
Ionic admits with propriety, of decorations which would be unsuitable to the Doric.  The volute of the Ionic capital, frequently
ornamented with foliage, the entablature consisting of more parts,
and often decorated with sculpture in basso, and even alto rflievo:
all these have a propriety in this order of architecture, which is
quite agreeable to its character.  Of this order were constructed
some of the noblest of the Greek temples; particularly the temple
of Apollo at Miletus, that of the Delphic oracle, and the superb
temple of Diana at Ephesus, classed among the wonders of the
world.
The last of the Grecian orders of architecture is the Corinthian.
It marks a period of luxury and magnificence, when pomp and
splendor had become the predominant passion, but had not so far
prevailed as to extinguish the taste for the sublime and beautiful.
It had its origin at Corinth, one of the most luxurious cities of
Greece; and was, probably, the production of an artist who wished
to strike out a novelty agreeable to the reigning affectation'of
splendor, and to preserve at the same time a grandeur and beauty
of proportions; thus studying at once to captivate the vulgar eye,
and to preserve the approbation of the critic.  Of this order were
built many of the most superb temples of Greece, particularly
that of Jupiter Olympius at Athens, founded by Pisistratts, tut
not completely finished till seven hundred years after, under the
reign of Hadrian.  Its remains are yet very considerable.  But
pleasing' as this magnificent order may be to the general taste, it
will hold but an inferior estimation with those who possess a
refined judgment.  It conveys not to the chastened eye that calm
and sober pleasure which arises from  grand and simple symmetry,
or the effect of a few striking parts united to produce one great
andl harmonious whole; but leads off the attention to admire the
minute elegance of its divisions, and solicits applause less from
the production of a great and beautiflul effect, than firom  the consideration of the labor, the cost, and artifice employed in its construction.
I have'thus endeavored to give some idea of the distinct
characters of the three different orders of Grecian architecture.
They have been elegantly and happily distinguished by the poe*
of the Seasons:



CH. VII.]             GREE'K ARCHITECTURE.                    227
First unadorned
And nobly plain, the manly Doric rose;
The Ionic then with decent matron grace
Her airy pillar heaved; luxulriant last,
The rich Corinthian spread her wanton wreath.
Th/omson's Liberty, part ii.
The foregoing remarks, it must be observed, are applicable only
to those orders such as we find thern in the chastest models of
antiquity.  It is but too certain that affectation even among the
ancients corrupted the general taste; and that the caprice of artists
aiming at novelty and singularity, often produced very faulty deviations from the distinct characters of each of those orders.  The
moderns, treading in their steps, have indulged a license still more
unbounded; and such *have been the whimsical innovations of
architects, that even from the professed treatises on the art, it is
difficult to determine what are the pure and unadulterated models
of the several orders; so that, had not time happily spared to us
at this day some precious remnants of the genuine architecture of
the Greeks in its purity, we must in vain have sought for it, either
*in the practice of architects, or in their writings.
While on the subject of architecture, which, in books that treat
of the science, exhibits five distinct orders, it would be improper
here to omit mentioning the other two, the Tuscan and the Com
posite, though of Italian origin; or to pass over entirely in silence
a complete -species of architecture, whicb, arising in times comparatively modern to those of which we now treat, seems to have
borrowed nothing from  those rnodels of antiquity, but'to depend
on principles and' rules peculiar to itself.
The Tuscan order is, as I have said, of Italian origin.  The
Etruscans, long before the era when Rome is supposed to have
been founded, were a splendid, an opulent, and a highly polished
people.  Of this, the monuments at this day remaining of their
wvorks in sculpture and painting afford a convincing proof; for,
not to mention tihe subjects of those paintings which exhibit all
the refinements of social life, the very eminence which they evince
in the art of design presupposes wealth, luxury, and high civilization.  It is true, those paintings are supposed to have been the
work of Greek artists; but if those artists were encouraged by the
Etruscans, and wrought for them, we must thence of necessity
conclude that they were a most polished people. The Etruscan
architecture appears to be nearly allied to the Grecian, but to
possess an inferior degree of elegance.  The more ancient buildings of Rome were probably of this species of architecture, though
the proper Greek orders came, afterwards to be in more general
estimation.   A  respect, however, for antiquity prevented the
Romans from  ever entirely abandoning the Tuscan mode.  The
Trajan pillar is of this order of architecture.  This magnificent
column has braved the injuries of time, and is entire at the present
day.  Its excellence consists less in the form and proportions of




~22,'UNIVERSAL HISTORY,              [B0oo1 Al
the pillar, than in the beautiful sculpture which decorates it.  Of
this fine sculpture, which represents the victories of Trajan over
the Dacians, a very adequate idea.may be formed, from the engravings of the Columna  Trajana by Bartoli.
The  Composite  order, likewise of Italian extraction, was
unknown in the age of the perfection of Greek architecture.
Vitruvius makes no mention of it.  It seems to have been the
production of some conceited artist, who wanted to strike out
somnething new in that way, or to evince his superiority to the
ancient masters; but it serves only to show that the Greeks had
exhausted all the principles of united grandeur and beauty in the
three orders before mentioned, and to prove that it is not possible
to frame a new order unless by combining and slightly varying the
old.
The Gothic architecture, which is often found to produce a very
striking effect, offers no contradiction to the observations I have
made on the different orders  of Grecian architecture.   The
effect produced by theGothic architecture is not to be accounted
for on the same principle of conformity to the rules of symmetry
or harmony, in the proportions observed between the several parts;
but depends on a certain idea of vastness, gloominess, and solemnity, which we know  to be powerful ingredients in the sublime.
Nothing is more common than to hear some pretended cognoscenti
-who derive all their opinions from certain general laws of taste,
which they want the capacity of applying to their proper subject,
and have no guidance of a natural.feeling to discern where they
are inapplicable-exclaim.with great emphasis, that it is surprising
that the Italians, who had before them so many precious mnonumlents of the Greek architecture, should ever have given into a
taste so barbarous as the Gothic; and this, perhaps, while they
are gazing with vacancy of eye upon the cathedral of Milan, one
of the noblest Gothic structures in the world.  The truth is, the
two species of architecture are so different, that no comparison
can with justice be instituted between them. The object, indeed,
of both is the same-to strike with pleas'ure, or with awe; but
they employ means which are totally distinct, and both obtain
their ends.  I have observed that the sublime disregards all minuteness of ornament, which serves but to distract the eye.  The
Gothic architecture may be judged to offend in that particular;
though it ought to be considered that in the best specimens of
Gothic architecture, even where we find that minuteness of ornament, its effect is counterbalanced by the simplicity of the greater
members of the fabric. The capital of a Gothic column, it is
true, is crowded with a profusion of fantastic ornaments of men,
beasts, birds, and plants; but that capital itself consists of few
divisions; its column is of a magnitude that nobly fills the eye;
the sudden elevation of the arch has something bold and aspiring;
and while we contemplate the great and striking members of the




oi. VIi.]                 ARCHITECTURE.                      229
building, the minuteness of ornament on its parts is but transiently
reniarked, or noticed only as a superficial decoration, which de.
tracts nothing from the grand effect of the whole mass.
To return: The Greeks, of all the nations of antiquity, possessed an unrivalled excellence in the arts depending on design.
Sculpture and painting were brought by them  to as high a pitch of
perfection as architecture.  It is the peculiar advantage of the art
of sculpture, that, being ordinarily employed on the most durable
materials, and such as possess small intrinsic value, it bids the
fairest of all the arts to eternize the fame of the artist.  While its
works resist all natural decay from  time, they afford no temptation
to alter their form, in which consists their only value. They may
lie hid from  neglect in an age of ignorance: but they are safe,
though buried in the earth; and avarice or industry, to supply the
demands of an after age of taste, will probably recover them.
W hat precious remains of ancient sculpture have, in the last three
centuries, been dug out of the ruins of Rome! What treasures
may we suppose yet remain in Greece and in the rest of Italy!
To the discovery of some of those remnants of ancient art has
been attributed the revival of painting and sculpture, after their
total extinction during the middle ages.  This, at least, is certain,
that, till Michael Angelo and Raphael, feeling the beauties of the
antique, began to emulate their noble manner, and introduced into
their works, the one a grandeur, and the other a beauty unknown
to the age in which they lived, the manner of their predecessors
had been harsh, constrained, and utterly deficient in grace.  1Iichael Angelo was so smitten with the beauties of the antique, that
he occupied himself in drawing numberless sketches of a mutilated
trunk of a statue of Hercules, still to be'seen at Rome, and from
him called the Torso of Michael Angelo.  Raphael, whose works
have entitled him to the same epithet which the Greeks bestowed
on Apell3s, The Divine-Raphael confessed  the excellence of
the antique, by borrowing from  it many of his noblest airs and
attitudes; and his enemies (for merit will ever have its enemies)
have asserted, that of those gems and basso-relievos which he had
been at pains to collect and copy, he destroyed not a few, in order
that the beauties he had thence borrowed might pass for his own.
The practice of those artists, whose names are the first among the
moderns, affords sufficient argument of the superiority of the ancients.  Their works remain the highest models of the art; and
we who, in the imitation of the human figure, have not nature,
as they had, constantly before our eyes undisguised, and in her
most graceful and sublimest aspects, can find no means so short
and so sure to attain to excellence, as by imitating the antique.
Every artist should accustom  his eye to the contemplation of
the antique, before lie begins to work after nature; for this reason,
that the antique presents nature without her defects, offering the
collected result of all her scattered beauties, and these even




230O                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK AI
heightened by the imagination of the artist.  The scholar who has
thus made himself familiar with the antique, when he begins to
imitate nature, will immediately discern her striking beauties, wlhichl,
bad he not seen them  in the antique, separated entirely from  her
blemishes, he might never have learnt from his own taste to separate in the objects of nature,; and here, it may be remarked by the
way, lies the difference between the Flemish and the Italian
schools.  The- Flemirngs were ignorant of the antique, and some
of them, as Rembrandt, for example, held it in contempt.. Nature
was their prototype, which, it must be allowed, they have suecessfiully imitated; but wanting judgment to discern her striking
beauties, or to separate them from her defects, and utterly unconscious of that ideal beauty which results from  this judgment, and
towers far above nature, they have produced nothing noble, nothling
graceful, nothing truly great.
I have said that the ancients, in the imitation of the human
figure, had nature constantly before their eyes in her most graceful
and sublimest aspects.  The games of Greece, where the youth
contended naked in the Palaestra, afforded a noble school for the
improvement of sculpture and painting.  Their artists there saw
the finest figures of Greece in all the possible variety of attitudesan advantage which no modern academy of design can fiurnish.
What is it that strikes the intellectual eye in the ancient Greek
statues?  It is a grandeur united with simplicity-an unaffected
air of beauty or of dignity, which.is the result of the artist's observation of nature unconstrained.  The naked model in our academies of painting?, who is desired to throw  his body into such an
attitude of exertion as the painter wishes to copy, will show  that
attitude much more constrained  and unnatural than  a gladiator,
for instance, or a wrestler, who is thrown into it unconsciously by
a natural effort in a real combat in the arena.  Could the artist
who cut the admirable figure of the Dying Gladiator in the Capitol,
have copied the wonderfully simple and natural position of the
limbs, the relaxing muscles, and failing strength; or the lineaments
of the face, expressive of the utmost anguish, yet endured with
manly fortitude; could the sculptor have copied all this from  the
model of a figure in the academy?. It is utterly impossible; no
artificial disposition of the body could give the smallest idea of it.
It is this same statue of the Dying Gladiator of which Pliny speaks,
and which he has so admirably characterized in a few words
"' Cresilas vulneratum  deficientem  fecit, in  quo possit intellig,
quantum restet animce. "
In like manner, in the admirable group of Niobe and her children, believed by some to be the work of Praxiteles, and by others
*" With such admirable art was the statue of the Dying Gladiator sculptured
by Cresilas, that one could judge how much of life remained."




CH. voII.]                 GRECIAN ART.                           231
of Scopas, " the various attitudes there exhibited, though the most
impassioned that can well be conceived, are yet altogether so
natural, so  simple, and  unaffected, that they  demonstrate  the
source from  which they were drawn to  have been nature itself,
under the actual influence of passions similar to what the sculptor
has expressed.  Even in those single statues unexpressive of passion, and where no particular action is represented, as in the Antinous and the little Apollo, there is an ease and freedom  of attitude
which convinces us at first sight that the sculptor was not the
servile copyist of a figure planted before hirn and directed to throw
his limnbs into a proper position, as a model in the academy.  The
sculptors of those statues drew from nature, but it was from nature
unconstrained; it was that their eyes were familiarly acquainted
with  those  attitudes; they  saw  them  dailv in  their games and
spectacles, and that habit of observation enabled them faithfully
to represent them.
From  this air of unrestrained nature, and particularly from  that
expression of calmness and of ease which is observable in many of
the ancient statues, and which indicates the freedom of gesture of
a person alone and unconscious of being observed, results that
wonderfil grace, which so few  of the modern artists have attained
the ability of expressing.  Perhaps we may even  doubt whether
many of those artists have ever felt its excellence.  To  most
modern artists and modern connoisseurs, the sedate grandeur, the
simple and  quiet attitude, appear lifeless and insipid.   CC The
figure," they will tell you, "wants spirit: where is the air of the
head?  The limbs are carelessly disposed; they want attitude: 
and the critic, to illustrate his meaning, will throw himself into a
stage posture, or what are faithful copies of those postures, the
paintings of the French  school.  Hogarth, in his.nalysis of
Beauty, has happily ridiculed this miserable taste, by representing
a French  dancing-master standing by the  side of the beautiful
figure of the.ntinotts, and teaching the awkward youth to hold
up his llead, and put on the air of a man of fashion.  Such indeed.
are the fantastic innovations introduced by modern manners and
fashion in disguising the human figure, that the sculptor or painter
has no longer nature for his school of instruction, nor can any otherwise form a conception of her genuine and unsophisticated features
than by contemplating them  reflected in the precious works of the
ancient masters.
* Praxiteles flourished 269 B. c. His merits, and an enumeration of his principal works in sculpture, may be found in Pliny, lib. 34, c. 8; and lib. 36, c. 5. He
excelled chiefly in female beauty, and more particularly in the heads and arms of
his firures, which were consummately graceful. The famous courtesan, Phryne,
was the model for his Cnidian Venus, which is yet preserved, and known to the
moderns by the name of the Venus de Medici. Scopas flourished 430 B. Co.
Many of his works are enumerated by Pliny, lib. 36. c. 5; and it is sufficient ar
gumient of his talents to say that the best judges of antiquity deemed many of his
statues equal to those of Praxiteles.




413$2                  U~UNIVERSAL HISTOR.,              [BOOK AA
Among the Greeks, Nature was not only seen without disguise,
and in her noblest and most graceful attitudes; she was in reality
in the human figure superior to what we now see. in the ordinary
race of men.  Without indulging the whimsical hypothesis of some
philosophers, that the moderns, compared with the ancients, are
a degenerate breed, it may safely be asserted, that among the
ancient Greeks, the youth, trained from infancy in the daily practice of gymnastic exercises, must have exhibited a finer form  of
body, a more perfect symmetry of limbs, and a shape more piicturesque, than what must necessarily result firom the constraint of
the modern method of clothing, and the luxurious and comparatively effeminate system  of modern education.  The varied forms
of manly beauty exhibited in the Pythian Apollo, the Antinous,
and the Fighting'Gladiator, (if this statue be rightly so named,)
are evidently far beyond the model of the human figure as we see
it in the present race of men; but we have every reason to believe
that their prototypes were to be found in those ages to which we
now refer, though doubtless we must at the same time make allowance for the genius of the artist, in exalting and improving even
that excellent Nature which presented itself to his eyes.  In contemplating the figure of the Fartesian  Hercules, the work of
Glycon, (what Horace, by an allowable metonymy, has ternled
the invicti membra Glyconis,*) and in considering the prodigious
strength of the back and shoulders, and strongly-marked distinction
of thle muscles in the breast and arms, we are apt at first view to
censure the form  as exaggerated beyond all nature: but in this
superficial judgment we forget what was that nature which tlie
sculptor had for his model of imitation, and do not consider, that
to personify a divinity whose characteristic attribute was strength,
it was necessary that that nature, superior as it was, should be
amplified and exalted by the imagination of the artist.  Of this
heightening of nature the Greek sculptors have given the noblest
examples in the representation of their gods: "' Non vidit Phidias
Jovem,'7 says Seneca, "' nec stetit ante oculos ejus Minerva: dignus
tamen illa arte animus et concepit deos, et exhibuit." t
And this leads me to remark what must have been likewise
another and a very powerful source of the advancement of the
arts of design among the Greeks.  The Grecian mythology furnished a most ample source for the exercise of the genius of the
painter and sculptor.  The distinct and characteristic attributes of
the several deities, their actions, and the poetical fables connected
*" The limbs of the invincible Glycon," for the invincible limbs of his
statue.
*( Phidias never saw Jupiter, nor did Minerva present herself to his eyes: but
his mind, worthy of his art, both formed those divine conceptions and represented
them."




CIL. VII.]                  GRECIAN ART.                         2933
with  their history, furnished an inexhaustible supply of sublime,
beautiful, and  highly pleasing  subjects.   We  know, since the
revival of the arts, how much those of painting and sculpture have
been indebted to the  Roman Catholic  religion, which  furnishes
not only an abundant demand for the works of the artist, but supplies him  with an endless variety of subjects in the lives of its
numerous saints and martyrs.   But in this respect at least the
Roman Catholic religion nlust yield to that of Greece, that the
painful and often shocking scenes which it presents for the pencil
will bear no comparison with the varied, gay, and amusing pictures
of the pagan mythology.
Of the ability of the Greeks in painting, we must speak with
more diffidence than we have done of their superiority in sculpture.  Of the latter, those admirable works yet remaining, justify
the highest encomiium  that Can be'bestowed upon them.  Of the
former, it would be unjust to form any estimate from those inconsiderable specimens supposed of Grecian painting, which time has
yet left undestroyed.  The paintings discovered in.Herculaneum,
the celebrated picture of a marriage in the Aldobrandini collection,
those found in the Sepulchrum  NJasonianum'  at Romes and other
pieces enumerated by Dutens,* were probably the work of Greek
artists; for we have no evidence that the Romans ever carried any
of the arts depending on design  to much perfection.  But with
regard to the Greeks the case is very different.  Their excellence
in the art of painting is loudly  proclaimed by all antiquity.  Of
their eminence in the kindred art.of sculpture we are ourselves the
judges.  Now  we cannot reasonably call in question the taste of
those ancient authors who have written in praise of the paintings
of the Greeks, when we find the same judgment which they have
* As MI. Dutens, in his amusing and instructive essay on the Discoveries
attributed to the Moderns, has enumerated, it is believed, all the existing remains of the genuine paintings of the ancients, it may afford satisfaction to
readers of curiosity, to see the complete catalogue as given by that author.
" The ancient paintings still to be seen at Rome are, a reclining Venus at full
length. in the palace of Barherini, the Aldobrandine nuptials, a Coriolanus in
one of the cells of Titus' baths, and seven other pieces taken out of a vault at
the foot of Mount Palatine, among which are a Satyr drinking out of a horn,
and a landscape with figures, both of the utmost beauty.  There are also a
sacrificial piece consisting of three figures, and an CEdipus and a Sphinx, all of
which formerly belonged to the tomb of Ovid. The pictures discovered at
Herculaneum disclose beyond all others a happiness of design and boldness of
expression that could proceed only from the hands of the most accomplished
artists. The picture of Theseus vanquishing the Minotaur, that of the birti of
Telephus, Chiron, and Achilles, and Pan and Olympe, present innumerable
beauties to all persons of discernment. There were found, also, in the ruins of
that city, four capital pictures, wherein beauty of design seems to vie with the
most skilful management of the pencil, and which appear to be of an earlier
date than those before spoken of."-Dutens, p. 370. [Some paintings of great
spirit have, since our author wrote, been discovered at Pompeii; but these were
only the furniture-pictures, so to speak, of a private residence in a provincial
town.]
VOL. i.                30




234                      UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                    [BOOK 11
given upon the works of sculpture, confirmed by the universa,
assent of modern critics.  If we find that Pliny is not guilty of
exaggeration or censurable for false taste when he extols the noble
groip of Laocoon and his sons,* terming it " a work excelling all
that the arts of painting and sculpture have ever produced," why
should we suppose that he exaggerated, or that his taste was not
equally just, when he celebrates the praises and critically characterizes the different manners and distinct merits of Zeuxis,t
Apelles, Aristides,the  Theban, j Parrhasius, Protogenes  ana
Timanthes?    Parrhasius seems to have been  the Correggio  of
antiquity; possessing the talent, and displaying the pleasing, elegant, and rounded contour of this artist.  Pliny, (lib. 35, c. 10,)
in characterizing the paintings of this artist,. commends chiefly in
his figures the argutias vultus, elegaantiam  capilli, et venustatem
oris,~ and highly praises the correctness of his outline.  The same
writer mentions an allegorical painting of Parrhasius, representatiye
of the character of the Athenians, in which the artist seems to have
formed a just.idea of that inconstant and fickle populace.' Pinxit
et Demon.itheniensium, argumento  quoque ingenioso:  volebat
namzque variurm, iracundum, injustum, inconstantem —eundem exora.
bilem, clementem, misericordern, exc- lsuzm, gloriosum, humnzilem, ferocem, fugwacemque, et omnia pariter ostendere." 1  It were to be
*' Sicut in Laocoonte, qui est in Titi Imperatoris domo, opus omnibus et picturta
et statuarim artis prmeferendum, ex uno lapide eurn etliberos draconumque mirabi3es nexus de consilii sententia fecere summi artifices Agesander et Polydorus et
Athenodorus Rhodii."-Plin. 1. xxxvi. c. 5.
t{Zeuxis flourished 397 B. c. The ancient authors are very high in their
praises of the works of this great painter. He was peculiarly excellent in painting female beauty. Dionysius of Halicarnassus informs us that the people of
Crotona, wanting him to paint a naked Helen, sent him five of the most beautiful
young women of their city, whose separate perfections he united in his picture,
and produced a miracle of beauty. Cicero gives the story at large, and con atmore.
I-Ie tells us that Zeuxis was brought to tlie Palestra and shown a great numnber
of the most beautiful boys.'" These," said his conductors, " have as many sisters, whose beauty you may easily guess from what you now see."  "Nay, but,"
said Zeuxis, "send me the young women."  The Crotoninns held a public council on that request, and it was agreed to furnish him with what he demanded.Cic. de Invent. Rhet. 1. 2.: Aristides flourished in the age of Alexander the Great, and was contemporary
with Apelles, Parrhasius, and Timanthes.  Pliny says of Aristides, that his
paintings were the first which gave the expression of the soul and the feelings:
and as an instance, he mentions a celebrated picture of Aristides, in which, in a
besieged city, a mother is represented dying of a wound in her breast, and holding
back her child lest it should suck blood instead of milk; a picture which is supposed to be the subject of a beautiful epigram in the Anthologia, thus happily
translated by Webb, in his Beauties of Painting:' Suck, little wretch, while yet thy mother lives,
Suck the last drop her fainting bosom gives:
She dies; her tenderness survives her breath,
And her fond love is provident in death."
~ "The arch expression, the beauty of the hair, and charm of the mouth.
"  He painted also an ingeniouts allegorical picture of the Genius of the Athe




~HI. vIuIjI               GRECIAN ART.                            235
wished that Pliny had given us some idea of the composition of a
picture so extraordinary in point of subject..
If Parrhasius was the Correggio, Apelles was indisputably the
Raphael of antiquity:'  Omnes prius egenitos, futurosque postea
superavit Jpelles,"* are the words of Pliny, who, in his estimates
of the works of art, is generally supposed to speak less from  his
own taste than from  the common opinion of the best judges of
antiquity.  The peculiar excellence of Apelles, as of Raphael,
lay in that consummate gracefulness of air which he imparted to
his figures; and in which he surpassed all his rivals in the arts.
Prcecipua.pellis in arte venustas fait, cum eadem cetate maximi
pictores essent; quorum  opera  quum  admiraretur, collaudatis omnibus, deesse iis unam illam  venerem  dicebat quam  Grceci X&Ctra
rvocant:  ccetera omnria  contigisse, sed hac  soli sibi neminem
parem." t-Plin. 1. 35, c. 10.  It is well known that Alexander
the Great had the highest esteem  of this artist; and having employed him to paint his mistress Campaspe, showed a singular
example of generosity and self-command, in bestowing her as a
gift on his friend the painter, who had fallen in love with his
beautiful model.  It was a high testimony to  the merits of the
artists, but it was at the same time a judicious policy for' himself,
that Alexander would suffer no other painter, statuary, or engraver,
to form  his effigy, than Apelles, Lysippus, and Pyrgoteles; a fact
which accounts for the singular beauty and excellence of all the
figures yet remaining of that prince.
To the merits of Protogenes, a critic of genuine taste among the
ancients has borne a high testimony: I speak of Petronius Arbiter.
That author, mentioning his having seen in the palace of Trimalchio  (Nero) some sketches by the liand of Protogenes, says that
on handling them, he felt a reverential awe, as if they had been
something more than human.T  It was to the high excellence of
Protogenes as an artist, that the city of Rhlodes, the place of his
nativity, owed its preservation when besieged by Demetrius Poliorcetes.  When that prince saw no other means of reducing- the
nians, representing a being at one and the same time fickle, irascible, unjust, inconstant, yet placable and compassionate, vainglorious yet humble, ferocious yet
cowardly."
1" Apelles surpassed all who had gone before, and all who will ever come after
him."
t "In the grace of his pictures Apelles surpassed all the great painters of his
age: whatever praise wag bestowed on their works, still that peculiar beauty
which the Greeks term XaQiTca. (Grace) was wanting; in the other qualities of
his art, others may have attained equal perfection, but in this he was unrivalled."
f In pinacothecam perveni vario genere tabularurh mirabilem; nam et Zeuxidos
manus vidi, nondum vetustatis injuria victas: et.Protogenis rudimenta cum ipsiua
naturua veritate certantia, non sine quodam horrore tractavi. Jam vero Apellis
quam Grumei monocnemon appellant, etiarn adoravi.  Tanta enimn subtilitate ex-',remitates imaginum erant ad similitudinem pramcisma, ut crederes etiam animorum
ease picturam.-Pet. Arb. Satyr.




~236                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK IX
city than by setting it on fire in a particular quarter, in which
there was a celebrated, painting of Protogenes, he chose rather to
abandon the enterprise than hazard the destruction of what was,
in his opinion, of the highest value.
On the whole, if we have not the same demonstrative evidence
of the attainments of the Greeks in painting that we have of their
eminence in sculpture, namely, the existing  monuments of the
art, We have every degree of presumptive evidence which the subject can admit to warrant an opinion of an bqual degree of excellence.  These arts require the same talents, their progress is influenced by the same moral causes, they owe their advancement to
the same taste and genius; and it is impossible to suppose the one
to have been successfully cultivated  in any age or nation, while
the other remained in a rude and imperfect state.*
If any apology were necessary for the length of the preceding
observations on the state of the arts in Greece, I would remark,
thai as it is the province of history to exhibit the character and
genius of nations, so the national character of the Greeks was in
nothing more signally displayed than in those branches of art to
which I have called the reader's attention  in this chapter.  In
tracing the mutual relation of moral and political caulses, this peculiar genius of the Greeks will be found to have extended its influence to the revolutions of their states, and to their fate as a nation.
Its advancement marked the decline of the severer morals and the
fall of the martial spirit; for the fine arts cannot exist in splendor,
but in a soil of luxury and of ease.  The taste for these supplanted
the appetite for national glory, and at length ignominiously supplied the place of public virtue.  The degenerate Greeks were
consoled for the loss of their liberty by the flattering distinction of
being the humanizers of their conquerors, the magistri et arbitri
elegantiarum to the unpolished Romans.
" For a most ample account of the ancient painters, sculptors, and architects,
drawn from the writings of the Greek and Roman authors, the reader is referred
to the learned work of Junius de Pictura Vetervtm, and the catalogue of artists
subjoined to that work. See likewise a very ingenious and learned Dissertation
on the Painting of the Ancients, by T. Cooper, Esq., in the third volume of Mema.
of the Lit. and Phil. Soc. of Manchester.




CH vIl.1                GRECCIAN GAMsES                       237
CHAPTER  VIII..
Public games of Greece-Effects on character-Manners-Poetical composition
anterior to prose - Homer-Hesiod-Archilochus-Terpander-Sappho- Pindar- Anacreon - The GreeIk epigram- The Greek comedy, distingushed
into the old, the middle, and the new - Aristophanes - Menander - Greek
tragedy-lEschylus-Euripides - Sophocles - Mode of dramatic representation - The ancient drama set to music -The Mimes and Pantomimes - Of the
Greek historians-Herodotus-Thucydides-Xenophon - Polybius — Diodorus
Siculus-Dionysius of Halicarnassus -Arrian-Plutarch.
UNDER the early part of the Grecian history we had occasion to
treat of the origin, and somewhat of the nature, of the public
games of Greece.  Among all nations, in that period of society
when war is not reduced to a science, but every battle is a multitude of single combats, we find those exercises in frequent use
which tend  to increase  the bodily strength and activity.  The
Greeks, however, seem  to have been the first who reduced the
athletic exercises to a system, and considered them as an object of
general attention and importance.  The Panathenaean, and afterwards the Olympic, the Pythian, the Nemaean, and the Istllmian
games, were under the sanction of the laws, and subject to the
regulations  laid down  by the  ablest statesmen and legislators.
They were resorted to, not only by the citizens of all the states of
Greece, but even'by the neighboring nations.  Thus not only
was a spirit of union and good understanding kept up between the
several states, which, in spite of their frequent dissensions and
hostilities, made them  always regard each other as countrymen,
and unite cordially against a common enemy; but this partial
intercourse which the games produced with the inhabitants of other
countries, induced an acquaintance with their manners and genius,
and contributed very early to polish away the rust of barbarism.
In those gamles, therefore, we may see the cause of two opposite
effects: that Greece, in the early period of her history, was distinguished for martial ardor and military prowess; and that in the
latter ages, elegance, politeness, and refinement were her predominant characteristics.
This passion of the Greeks for shows and games, extremely
laudable, and even beneficial, when confined within due bounds,
was carried, at length, to a most blamable and pernicious excess.
The victor, in the Olympic games, who had gained the first prize
at running, wrestling, or driving a chariot, was crowned with higher
honors than the general who had gained a decisive battle.  His




238                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                  [BOOK IF.
praises were sung by the poets; he had statues, and even temples,
dedicated to his name.  Cicero'remarks, that among the Greeks
it was accounted inore glorious to carry off the palm at the Olympic
ganes, than among the Romans to have obtained the honors of a
triumph. "   Of these nations, it was easy to foretell which was
doomed to be the master, and which the slave.
The games of Greece were not exclusively appropriated to
gymnastic and  aliletic  exercises.  Those  immense  assemblies
were the resort, likewise, of the poets, the historians, the rhapsodists, and even the philosophers.
It is a singular fact, that in all nations there have been poets
before there  were  writers in  prose.  The  most ancient prose
writers among the Greeks, of whom  we have any mention, Pherecydes of Scyros, and Cadmus of Miletus, were posterior above
350 years to Homer. Of those poets who preceded Homer, some
of whom are supposed to have been anterior to the Tiojan war,
as Linus and Orpheus, we have no remains. i
Homer, of whose'birth both the place and the era are very uncertain, is, according to the most probable opinion, believed to
have been a native of Ionia, and to have flourished 277 years after
the taking  of Troy; that is, 970 years before the birth of Christ.
This illustrious man, the father of poetry, was, probably, a wandering minstrel, who earned his subsistence by strolling from one
city to another, and frequenting public festivals and the tables of
the great, where his music and verses procured him  a welcome
reception.  Lycurgus, the Spartan lawgiver, is said to have been
the first who brought from  Ionia into Greece complete copies of
the Iliad and Odyssey; which, however, were not arranged in the
order in which we now  see them, till 250 years afterwards, by
Pisistratus, tyrant of Athens.  The method which he took to collect those poems, by offering rewards to all who could recite, or
produce in writing, any of the compositions of Homer, renders it
probable that those poems had originally been composed in detached ballads, or rhapsodies.T   Froim these various recitations,
which were carefully transcribed, Pisistratus caused certain learned
men of his court to prepare what they considered the most perfect copies, and to methodize the whole into regular poems, as we
* Prop{e majus et gloriosius quam Romme triumphasse. —c. Orat. pro Flacco.
t Linus is feigned to have been the son of Apollo, and is said to have been
the first lyric poet. Stobeus gives some verses under the name of Linus; but
they are believed not to be authentic  The fragments published under the
name of' Orpheus, in the Poetceminores Grteci, and other collections, are plainly
supposititious, being entirely destitute of the -air of remote antiquity. The poem
of the Argonauts, which is attributed to him, is, on the authority of Stobeus and
Suidas, the work of Onomacritus, who lived in the time of Pisistratus. See
Suida Lex. sub voce Orpheus.
4 A passage of Athenrus confirms this notion. He tells us that the rehears.
ers of detached ballads, or?'Fapwdot, were called'0,?u1aLQora&-S th. Deip. 1. xiv.




CH. VIII.]             HOMERIC POEMS.                      239
now find the Iliad and Odyssey.  The division of each poem into
twenty-four books is supposed to have been a later operation, as
none of the classic authors quote Homer by books.
The poems of the Iliad and Odyssey were again revised by
Callisthenes and Anaxarchus, at the command of Alexander the
Great, who, it is well known, held them in the highest esteem.
They were finally revised by the celebrated grammarian and critic,
Aristarchus, by order of Ptolemy Philometor, and this last corrected copy is supposed to be the exemplar of all the subsequent
editions.  But the genuine merits of Homer are independent of all
artificial arrangement.  His profound knowledge of human nature
-his masterly skill in the delineation of character-.-his extensive
acquaintance with the manners, the arts, and attainments of those
early ages-his command of the passions-his genius for the sublime, and the melody of his poetical numbers, have deservedly
established his reputation as the greatest poet of antiquity.  It has
been justly remarked, that from the poems of Homer, as from the
fountain of knowledge, the principal authors among the ancients
have derived useful information in almost every department, moral,
political and scientific. 
Although the subjects of the Iliad and Odyssey appear of great
amplitude and extent, the action of both poems is, in reality, comprehended within a very short space of time.  The action of the
Iliad does not occupy many days.  The indignation of Achilles
upon the insult received from Agamemnon, forms the subject of
the poem.  Achilles retires to his tent in deep resentment.  His
absence dispirits the Greeks, and gives fresh courage to the Trojans, who gain some considerable advantages, and are occupied in
burning the Grecian fleet, when Patroclus comes forth, in the
armor of his friend Achilles, to stimulate the valor of his countrymen.  He is slain by the hand of Hector; an event which rouses
Achilles from his sullen repose, who signally revenges the fate of
his friend by the death of the magnanimous Hector. He then
celebrates the obsequies of Patroclus, and delivers up to Priam,
for a ransom, the body of his brave son. This is in brief the
whole action of the Iliad.
The structure of the Odyssey, of which the principal action is
included in a period of time equally short, is more various and
artful than that of the Iliad.  Ulysses had been absent many years
from his country, after the taking of Troy.  His death was supposed certain; and Penelope, harassed by the importunate addresses of many suitors, could no longer invent plausible pretexts
for delaying her choice of a second husband. At this crisis, the
* Adjice Mmeonidem; a quo ceu fonte perenni,
Vatum Pieriis ora rigantur aquis.-Ovid.
And not only the poets, but, as Longinus informs us,;the historians and philosophers drew largely from his copious source.




240                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                LBOOK I I,
action of the Odyssey commences.  Telemachus~ the son of
Ulysses, goes to Greece to interrogate Nestor reg;arding the fate
of his father; and during his absence, Ulysses, having left the
island of Calypso, is thrown by a tenmpest on the island of the
Phlacians', in the neighborhood of Ithaca.  Here lie recites lhis
various adventures, and obtains assistance fiom  the prince of the
country, for the recovery of his native possessions, now occupied
and pillaged by the insolent suitors of his queen.  HEe arrives in
Ithacal discovers himself to his son, and talces jointly with him
effectual measures to accomplish his revenoe, and extirl)ate these
presumptuous ravagers.  The whole action of the poein is comprised in forty days.  The moral of the Iliad is, that dissension
among the chiefs of a country is generally fatal to the peol)le; and
that of the Odyssey, that prudence joined to courage and perseverance are sufficient to surmount the most powerful obstacles.
The authenticity of the historical facts recorded by Homer has
been much controverted.  Even the war of fhe Greeks against
Troy, and its ultimate issue in the destruction of that city, have
been altogether doubted; and there are -Tliters, of some name,
who deny that Troy  was ever taken by,he Greeks-nay, that
any such city as Troy ever had an existence.  To this notion some
countenance is derived from  the circumstance that no vestige of a
city is now to be found in the place of its supposed situation.  But
the universal belief of antiquity, and constant reference of the best
informed of -the ancient writers to the general events of the Trojran
wvar, an-d the facts connected with that belief in the authentic
history of ancient, Greece and Rorne, seem  to afford, at least, a
much stronger presumption of veracity to the general opinion than
to its contrary.  Were it to be an established rule, that every tiling
shouild be retrenched firom the annals of nations for whlich we have
not the most complete and irrefragable evidence, the body of
ancient history would suffer indeed a great abridgment.
As the Ionic was the native dialect of Horner, so it is that which
he has chiefly employed, though not exclusively, availing himself'
occasionally of the Attic, the Doric, and the AEolic, as well as of
the general license of the poetic.  Hence that variety in the
rhythm  and melody of his composition, which never palls upon
the ear; and hence, likewise, the happy coincidence of sound and
sense, which seems in him to have been less the result of study.
and artifice, than of a musical ear, which instinctively prompted
the most appropriate expression, to give the greatest possible effect
to the thought or idea to be conveyed.
Besides the great works of the Iliad and Odyssey, the ludicrous
poem of the Batrachomnyomnachia, or Battle of the Frogs and Mice,
has been generally ascribed to Homer; and likewise a pretty numerous collection of hymns in honor of Apollo, Mercury, Venus,
and the other divinities of his country.  Of all these, however,
the authenticity is questionable; though they have been cited as




C  ll. Vil.] iElUD1D.                                            241
gnuine by Thucydides, Ltician, Pausanias, hnd others among the
ancient writers, and are in themselves of sufficient merit to give no
discountenance  to  the common  belief.  The JMargrites, an undoubted work of Homer, of a comic nature, of which no remnant
is preserved, is likewise cited by Aristotle and the ancient writers
as a composition worthy of its author.
Contemporary with Homer, or but a few years posterior to him,
was Hesiod; a poet who seems to be more indebted for any share
of esteem which he holds with the moderns, to his remote antiquity, and to the praises he has received from  ancient writers,*
than to any feeling of the real merit of his compositions.  That
Virgil highly esteemed Hesiod as a poet, is evident from the many
Imitations of the Greek author which occur in the first and second
books of the Georgics: nor is it, perhaps, a rash supposition, that
Virgil had conceived the entire idea of his didactic poem on Agriculture, from the Works and Days of Hesiod.  In two passages
of the Eclogues, Virgil alludes to Hesiod with encomium:
et quis filit alter
Descripsit radio totum qui gentibus orberm,
Tempora. qu-z messor, que curvus arator haberet? t-Ece. iii.
And, as the highest compliment to his friend Gallus, after introducing him  to Apollo and the Muses, he makes the Heliconian
maids present him, by the hand of Linus, with the same pipe
which they had formerly bestowed upon Hesiod, the Ascrtan
old man.
-   hos tibi dant calamos en accipe, musm
Ascrmo quos ante seni; quibus ille solebat
Cantando rigidas deducere montibus ornos.t-Ecl. vi.
Of the authentic writings of Hesiod two entire works remain;
the poem  of The Works and Days and  The  Theogony.  The
poem of the Works and Days,'Eoya xal'H-e-xsa%, consists of two
books' the first commences with the fables of Prometheus, Epirnetheus, and Pandora, the Five Ages of the World, the Golden,
Silver, Brazen, Heroic, and Iron Ages; the poet proceeds to give
an anple encormium  on virtue, enforced by the consideration of
the temporal blessings with which its practice is attended, and the
punishment which awaits vice even in this world; and he thence
eloquenily enlarges on the chief moral duties essential to the con-.
duct of life.  In the second book, the poet lays down a series of
* Hesindus-vir perelegantis ingenii. et mallissima dulcedine carminum memorabilis.-Veil. Patere. lib. i.
f " And the other-he who first indicated the divisions of the earth into different nations and peoples, and taught the husbandman the sedsons of harvest
and seed-time.". "'[rike if, then-the Muses assign to. you this pipe, formerly conferred by
them on the Ascrman sagoe, with which he was wont to charm even (he obdurate
elms from their mountains."
VOL. I.                  31




242                    UNIVERSAL HISTORP.                [BOOK 2t
precepts in agriculture, and details the variouls occupations of the
husbandman at the different seasons of the year; he  thence
digresses to the proper seasons for navigation; lays down judicious.
maxims for domestic life in the choice of a wife, friends, cornpanions, &c.; and concludes with enforcing the duties of religion,.and
a strict regard to good morals, and a general purity of conduct.
The poem of The Theogony contains a genealogy of the greater
and lesser deities and deified heroes of antiquity; with the myithology or fabulous history connected with the religion of ancient
Greece.  This poem  is the original source from  which all the
subsequent Greek and Roman mythologists have derived their
accounts of the birth, parentage, and exploits of the heathers
divinities, and the details of those fables which supply the place
of authentic history in those ages properly termed the Heroic.
About two centuries posterior to the age of Homer and of
H.esiod, flourished Archilochus, the inventor of Iambic verse-a
poet whose depravity of morals brought on himn  contempt and infamy during life; but whose works, after his death, divided, as we
are told, the public estimation with those of Homer.  Yet as these
works were of the lyric kind, it is not possible they could admit of
a degree of merit which could at all stand in competition with
those noble pictures of life and manners which are delineated by
that prince of poets.  Some fragments of Archilochuts are preserved by Athenreus, lib. xiv.; by Pausanias, lib. x.; and by
Stobaeus, serm. 123.  Contemporary with Archilochus was Terpander, a native of Lesbos, who is celebrated no less for his lyrical
compositions, than for his exquisite talents as a musician.  Of his
verses we have no remains.*  The two succeeding centuries were
distinguished by nine lyric poets of great celebrity: Alcman and
Stersichorus, of whom we have a few imperfect remains preserved
by Athenanus, Stobeus, &c.; Sappho, of whom  we have two
beautiful odes; Alcmeus, Simonides, Ibycus, and Bacchylides, of
whom  there remain considerable fragments in a mutilated state;
and Pindar and Anacreon, of whom  so much is preserved as to
enable us to form a just estimate of their merits.
Pindar, in the judgment of the ancients, was estee-ned the chief
of all the lyric poets. We have of his composition four books of
odes, or triumphal eulogies of the victors in the Olympic, Pythian,
Nemaean, and Isthmian Games of Greece.  It required a great
power of poetical imagination to give variety and interest to a
theme of so limited a nature, through a succession of no less than
forty-five panegyrics; and without doubt the poet has displayed
unbounded imagination, and the most excursive fancy. It is, how* Plutarch informs us that Terpandor was the inventor of those melodies or
musical strains in which it was customary to recite the poetical compositions in
the public g~A/es or contests for the palm of poetry; and that in particular he
sung to strains of his own composition the poems of Homer, as well as his own.




CH VIII.     GREEK LYRIC POETRY-GREEK  DRAMA.                 243
ever, to be suspected that the high admiration expressed by any
mo lern far the comprnositions of Pindar, has either in it a considerablle tincture of affectation, or is the result of a blind assent to the
opinion of Horace, and others of the ancient writers, who have
extolled the Theban bard as beyond all reach of competition, or
even inlitation.  The sober critics of antiquity, in judging of his
merits, have not shown  the same indiscriminating  enthusiasm.
Ilonginus confesses that Pindar, with all his sublimity, is apt to
sink below  mediocrity, and that his fire is sometimes altogether
extinguished when we least expect it: and Aulus Gellius gives it
as thie general opinion, that the poetry of Pindar is florid and
turgil to excess.*   Yet we can discern in him  many  striking
figlres, great energy ofL expression, and often the most harmonious
nunlbers.
Anacreon is a great contrast to Pindar.  His fancy, which has
no great-range, is employed only in suggesting familiar and luxurious pictures. He has no comprehension of the sublime of poetry,
and little of the tender, delicate or ingenious in sentiment.  Hie is
a professed voluptuary, of loose and abandoned principles; and
his compositions, though easy, gracefill, and harmonious, are too
imrnoral to finid favor with the firiends of virtue.
Of the Greek lyric poetry, if the epigram may be classed under.that denomination, the collection called /nthologia has preserved
a great many very beautiful specimens.  With a few exceptions,
they are free from that coarseness and obscenity which disgrace
the compositions of the Roman epigrammatists, particularly Martial-and Catullus. The Anthologia was compiled by a monk of
the fourteenth century; but it consists almost entirely of ancient
productions, and is altogether a valuable monument of the Greek
literature and taste.  The best of the modern epigrams may be
traced up to that source, and the English and French poets have
frequently plundered the Anthologia without the least acknowledgment.Considering the Anthologia as affording the best examples of
this sp'ecies of composition, we may thence observe that the ancients did not altogether annex the same meaninig that we do to
the term  epigram; which  we consider as alwavs displaying a
point or witticism, consisting of a single thought, briefly and brilliantly expressed.  The ancients required  likewise brevity and
unity of thotught, but they did not consider point or witticism  as
essential to epigram.  Martial and Catullus are frequently witty:
* Noct. Att., 1. xvii. c. 10.
t It is no inconsiderabhle testimony to the merits of the Greek epigram, that
the great moralist, Dr. Samuel.Johnson, sought a relief fromr the pains attendant on his death-bed, in translating into English and Latin verse some of the
best epigrams of the Anthofogia.




244                      UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                   [BOOK If
but the principal characteristic of the Greek epigram is ingenuity
and simplicity, or what the French term naivete.
The era of dramatic composition among the Greeks is supposed
to have commenced  about 590 B, c..   Thespis, who is said to
have been the inventor of tragedy,f was contemporary with Solon;
and if the drama originated with'the Athenians, it is equally cer-.tain that they brought it to a very high pitch of perfection.  The
Greek comedy has been  divided into three distinct classes, the
old, the middle, and the new.  Of the old comedy, which is noted
for the extreme freedom  and severity of its satire, the princial
dramatists were Eupolis, Cratinus, and Aristophanes.
Eupolis atque Cratinus, AristophanE.que poetre,
Atque alii quorum Comcedia prisca viroruln est,
Siquis erat dignus describi, quod malus ac fur,
Quod mcechus foret, aut sicarius, aut alioqui
Famosus,t multa cum libertate notabant.
Hor. Sat. lib. i. sat. 4.
And it had been well if their satire had been confined to the vicious
alone and notoriously profligate. We might excuse, when such
were the sole objects of castigation, even the unbridled license
with which they wielded the iron scourge of sarcasm.  Unfortunately their censure was not so discriminating, as appears by the
dramas of Aristophanes, yet preserved entire.
If it be true, that under the administration of Pericles at Athens,
all corfpositions for the stage were submitted to the review  of
certain judges, whose approbation it was necessary to obtain before they were allowed to be performed, it is not easy to account
for those gross immoralities and violations of common decency
which are to be found in the comedies of Aristophanes.  Of this
author's composition, we have eleven dramatic pieces, which, it
* Aristotle considers Homer as the founder of the drama among the Greeks.-not as having himself written any composition strictly of a dramatic natume,
oat as having led the way to it, by his lively representations of life and manners, both in the more serious and graver aspects and in the comic; his Iliad
and Odyssey bearing the same relation to tragedy, that his lMargites does to
comedy.-grist. de Poet. c. 4.
t Mr. Harris thus plausibly accounts for the priority of tragedy to comedy
in the poetry of all nations: " It appears, that not only in Greece, but in other
countries more barbarous, the first writings were in metre, and of an epic cast,
recording wars, battles, heroes, ghosts; the marvellous always, and often the
incredible. Men seemed to have thought the higher they soared, the more important they should appear; and that the common life which they then lived
was a thing too contemptible to merit imitation.  Hence it followed, that
it was not till this common life was rendered respectable by more refined and
polished manners, that men thought it might, be copied, so as to gain them ap.
plause. Even in Greece itself, tragedy had attained its matulrity many years
before comedy, as may be seen by comparing the age of Sophocles and Euripides,
with that of Philemon and Menander."; "Eupolis, Cratinus, Aristophanes, and other old writers of comedy, used
unbounded license- in exposing the knave. the tbief the adulterer,. the assassina
or any infamous character whomsoever.'




CH. VIII.]              GREEK COMEDY.                        45
must be owned, do not give a favorable opinion of the taste of the
Athenians at this.period of their highest national splendor.  It is
true, that we discern exquisite knowledge of human nature in
those dramas, and that they have high value, as throwing light on
thle manners and customns of the Athenians, and even on their
political constitution.  But there are coarseness of sentiment and
ribaldry of expression in the comedies of Aristophanes, which to
modern taste and manners appear extremely disgusting.   We
must presume, that even in the days of the author, such performances could have been relished only by the very dregs of the
populace; and that what chiefly recommended them to these, was
the mnaliciotls sarcasm and abuse which was thrown upon their
superiors, often the best and worthiest members of the commonwealth.
To the old comedy-of which the extreme license and scurrility
became at length disgusting, as the manners of the Athenians becamne more refined-succeeded the middle comedy, which, retaining the spirit of the old, and its vigorous delineation of manners
and character, banished fiom the drama all personal satire or abuse
of living characters by name.   The writers of this class were
numerous, and we have several fragments remaining of their compositions, but no entire pieces.  Of these fragments, Mr. Cumberland has published some valuable specimens, admirably translated,
in the sixth volume of The Observer.  Of these "specimens, the
passages taken from the comedies of Alexis, Antiphanes, Epicmates,
Mnesimachus, PhwEnicides, and Timocles, will give pleasure to
every reader of taste.
Last canlme the new comedy of the Greeks, including in point of
time a period of about thirty years-from the death of Alexander
the Great, to the death of Menander, the last and, perhaps; the
greatest ornament of the Grecian drama.  In this short period,
the Athenian stage was truly a school of morals; and while comedy lost none of' her characteristic excellence in the just delineation
of manners, she, had the additional graces of tenderness, elegance,
and decorum.  Of this brilliant era, the chief dramatic writers
were Menander, Philemon, Diphilus, Apollodorus, Philippides, and
Posidippus.
In the comedies of Menander was found a vein of the most
refined wit and pleasantry, which never transgressed the bounds
of decency and strict morality. His object was at once the exemplary display of the charms of virtue, and the chastisement of vice;
and employing, alternately, the grave and the jocose, attempering
moral example with keen but elegant satire, he exhibited the
most instructive as well as the justest representations of human
nature.  Quintilian and Plutarch * have deservedly enlarged on the
* Quint. 1. x. c. i., and Plutarch. Comp. Aristoph. and Menand.




246                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK II
merits of this excellent dramatic poet, expressing their opinion,
that he has eclipsed the reputation of all the other writers in the
same department among the ancients.  By the former of these
authors, the plays of Menander are recommended, as a school of
eloquence for the formation of a perfect orater; so admirable is the
skill of the poet, in painting the manners and passions in every
condition. and circumstance of life. The eulogium of Maenander,
by Quintilian, might, in modern times, be held as no exaggerated
character of our immortal Shakspeare.  I-low  much is it to be
regretted, that of all the works of this great master of the ancient
drama, of which there were near one hundred  coinedies, there
should, unfortunately, remain nothing more than a few  detached
passages preserved by Athenaus, Plutarch, StobLus, and Eustathius!  Yet even these justify the high character which the ancient critics have given of this poet; and we have yet a complleter
and more ample proof 6f his merits in the comedies of Terence,
which are now universally considered as little else than versions
from lMAenander.*
Next in merit to Menander, and not inferior to him in fertility
of genius, was Philemon, who is recorded to have written no
less than ninety comedies.  Of his remiains, the few  fiagments
preserved by Atheneus and Stohbeus do not derogate firon the
character given of him by Quintilian and tile ancient critics, as
second, at least, in dramatical talents to the prince of the comic
stage.  In the same scale of merit stood Diphilus, of whomll Clemens Alexandrinus and Eusebius give a high character in point of
morals as well as comic humor.  Of his works, as well as those
of his rivals, Apollodorus, Philippides, and Posibippus, there remain'a few fragments.
Time has happily spared to, us more considerable remains of
the tragic muse of the Greeks than of the comic, and fortunately
those pieces which have been preserved, are the production of
the three great ornaments of the drama, iEschylus, Sophocles,
and Euripides.  Among  the celebrated tragic poets, Aschylus
ranks first in priority of time.  Seventy years had only elapsed
since the days of Thespis, when the Greek dramla had no other
stage for its exhibition than a wagon..  The improvement that
took place from that period, to the time when Eschylus produced
those pieces which were crowned at the Olympic gaines, must
have been great indeed.  This author is said to have written
sixty-six tragedies, for thirteen of which he gained the first prize in
that department of poetry.  The tragedies of ]Eschylus abound.n strokes of the true sublime; but his genius, not always regulated
*Mr. Cumberland, in the Observer, No. 149, has translated some of the
fragments of Menander with great spirit: and sufficient fidelity, as also one of
Diphilus.




Cio, Vill.]          EURIPIDES-SOPHOCLES.                    247
by good taste, frequently betrays him  into the bombast: Sublimis
-gravis —et grandiloqunus usque ad vitium, says Quintilian.  He
studied not in his compositions that regularity of plan, and strict
observance of the unities, which the works of the succeeding poets
seem to have rendered  essential to the Greek drama; but to this
very circumstance we are indebted for the wild and romantic
nature of his plots, and that terrible grandeur with which his
characters are sometimes delineated.  The high esteerh which
Aristophanes had for the talents of YEschylus, is demonstrated by
that dispute which in his comedy entitled " The Frogs," he feigns
to hlave taken place in the infernal regions between Euripides and
iE:chytlus for the tragic chair.  Bacchus, the judge of the controversy, gives a direct decision in favor of 2Eschylus; and Sophocles acquiesces in the judgment, and declares that though he himself is ready to contest the palm with Euripides, he yields it
willinlly  to,Eschlylus.
Euripides and Sophocles were about fifty years posterior in
time to XEschylus; though both of them had begun their dramatic
career in his lifetime.  The judgment of the critics, both of ancient
and of modern times, is almost equally balanced between these
great masters of the drama.  Quintilian leaves the question undecided with respect to their poetical merits; but prefers Euripides,
as affording a better practical model of oratory, as well as on the
score of his admirable, prudential, and moral lessons.  Euripides
is a great master of the passions, and with high skill in the excitement of the grander emotions of terror, rage, and madness, is yet
more excellent in exciting the tender affections of grief and pity.
In the judgment of Longinus, this poet had not a natural genius
for the sublime; though the critic acknowleges that he is capable at times, when the subject demands it, of working himself up
to a very high elevation, both of thought and expression.  This
criticism is certainly fastidious in no small degree.  If a poet has it
in his power to rise to the sublime when his subject demands it,
what better proof can we have of a natural genius for the sublime?
But how  absurd to deny that the.Jledea is the work of a transcendent native genius for the sublime! - As a moralist, Euripides
ranks perhaps the highest among the ancient poets.  He was the
only dramatic writer of whom  Socrates deigned to attend the
representations. The singular esteem in which Cicero held him
as a moral writer, he has stongly expressed in one of his letters
to Tiro,j and it is a remarkable anecdote, that Cicero, in the last
moments of his lift, when assassinated in his litter, was occupied
in reading the JlMedea.  It is well known, that that great and good
man expected his fate; and we must thence conclude that he
thought no preparation for death more suitable than the excellent
*Cic. Ep. ad Fam. lib. xvi. ep. 8.




248                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK II
moral reflections of his favorite poet.  Of seventy-five tragedies
written by Euripides, there remain to us nineteen, and tile fiagment of a twentieth.  Quintilian justly gives it as a decisive proof
of the high merit of this great dramatist, that Menander admired,
and followed him as his model, though in a different species of the
drama.*
Contemporary with Euripides was his great rival, Sophocles,
who, in the judgment both of the ancient and modern critics,
shares equally with the former the chief honors of the tragic muse.
As the principal excellence of Euripides is judged to lie in the expression of the tender passions, so the genius of Sophocles has been
thought more adapted to the grand, the terrible, and'the sublime.
Yet the latter has occasionally shown himself a great master in the
pathetid.  I know  not that either the ancient or the modern
drama can produce a passage more powerfully affecting, than the
speech of Electra on receiving the urn which she.is tdld contains
the ashes of her brother Orestes:
J2 qtXh&e iYV1hEzOv d&vgltru p0t, &G.
Soph. Elect., Act iv.
We perceive in the tragedies of Sophocles great knowledge of the
human heart, together with a simplicity and chastity of expression
in the general language of the characters, which greatly heiglltens
his. occasional strokes of the sublime.  Of all the productions of
the Greek stage which time has spared  to us, that which is
generally esteemed the most perfect is the C~dipus of Sopliocles.   There could not, perhaps, be devised a dramatic fable.more perfectly suited to the excitement both of terror and pity
than that of the unfortunate  gEdipus; yet it is defective in one
great point, which is a moral.  There is no useful truth inculcated
by the spectacle of a man reduced to the utmost pitch of hunlan
misery, and marked out as an object of the indignation and vengeance of the gods, for actions in which it is not possible to accuse
him of criminality.  I have formerly taken notice of this strange
paradox in the ideas of the ancients with respect to morality, t and
I will not repeat the observation.
The manner in which the dramatic compositions of the Greeks
were performed has afforded much matter for learned inquiry, and
given room to considerable diversity of opinion.  It is well knlown
that the ancient actors, both in the Greek and Roman theatres,
wore masks suited t6 the characters they represented, of which
the enlarged and distended features were calculated to be seen at
a great distance; and the mouth was so constructed as to increase
4 Hunc et admiratus maxim6 est, ut sepe testatur, et secutus quamquam in
opere diverso, Menander. Just. Or. 1. x. c. 1.
t Supra, book i., ch. 8.




CH. VIIT.1                GREEK TRAGEDY                           249
the sound of the voice like a speaking-trumpet.  The tragic declamation was loutd, sonorous, and inflated, while the tone of the
comic actors was nearer to the manner of ordinary discourse.  The
ancient tragedy may indeed be described, not as an imitation of
nature, but as altogether an'artific(ial composition, intended to
produce a grand and imposing effect by the united power of music,
dancing, strong and expressive gesticulation, and pompous declamation; the whole introduced through the medium of some interesting, but simple story, fitted by its nature to excite powerfully
the emotions of terror' and of pity.  The ancient comedy, with
the accompaniments of music and dancing, was an imitation of
ordinary life, intended to inculcate good morals by just delineations
of the laudable or faulty characters of mankind, as the more serious dramas of Menander and Terence; or to chastise vice by the
ruder methods of satire, burlesque, and invective, as the comedies
of Aristophanes and Plautus.
As the tragic and comic dramas were  thus different in their
nature, they were usually performed by different classes of actors.*
Qulintilian- tells us that /Esopus declaimed  much more gravely
than Roscius, because the former was accustomed to. act tragedy,
and the latter comedy.t  The dresses and decorations in the two
species of drama were likewise altogether different.  The tragic
actor used the cothurnrts, or high-soled buskin, which increased
his height some inches, and also a stuffed dress to give a proportional size and breadth to the figure.t  The comic actor trod the
stage with the soccus, or low-heeled slipper, and an ordinary garb
suited to the character in real life.  It was therefore corresponding
to their figures that the former declaimed  in a loud and solemn
tone, or mouthed his part, while the latter spoke in a natural tone
and  manner: Comrcdus sermocinatur, says Apuleius,  Tragwedus
vociferatlur.
There are some circumstances regarding the exhibition of the
ancient drama, on which the modern critics are not agreed.  There
is good,reason to believe that both the comedy and tragedy of the
Greeks and Romans were set to music, and the greater part, if
not the whole, sung by the actors, or spoken in musical intonation,
* Plato, 3 Dial. de Republ.
t Roscius citatior, /Esopus gravior fuit; quod ille comesdias, hic tragredias
egit.-Just. O(r., lib. xi., c. 3.
t Lucian gives a most ludicrous picture of the costume of the tragic actors and
their turgid manner of performance, in his dialogue on stage dancing. —7oq
O0nYj1~eoo. "' What more absurd and ridiculous spectacle can there be, than to
see a man artfully drawing out his figure to a most unnatural length, stalkling in
upon high shoes, his head covered with a fearful masque, with a mouth gaping
wide, as if he' was about to devour the spectators; not to mention his stuffid belly
and chest, extended to give the lono figure a proportional size; then his bellowigr
and ranting, sometimes blustering and thumping, then singing iambics, or musically whining gut the most grievous calamities."
VOL. I                    32




250                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               L.BOOK II.
like the recitative of the modern Italian operas. Not to mention
the etymology of the words xlo~,oJ&  and ivyoal(a, plainly denoting
the composition to be of the nature of song, there are many passages of the ancient authors which countenance the foregoing
opinion. *
The ancient actors used in their performance a great deal of
gesticulation, which was requisite, from the immense size of their
theatres, in order to supply the defect of the voice, which, even
with the contrivance before mentioned to increase its sound, was
still too weak to be distinctly heard over so large a space.  A
violent and strongly marked gesticulation was, therefore, in some
degree, necessary; and this led to a very entraordinary practice
in the latter period of the Roman theatre: namely, that there
were two persons employed in the representation of one character.
Livy, the historian, relates the particular incident which gave rise to
this practice.- The poet Livius Andronicus, in acting upon the
stage in one of his own plays, was called by the plaudits of the
audience to repeat some favorite passages so frequently, that his
voice became inaudible through hoarseness, and he reqtested that
a boy might be allowed to stand in front of the musicians, and
recite the part, while he himself performed the consonant gesticulation.  It was remarked, says the historian, that his action was
much more free and forcible, from being relieved of the labor of
utterance; and hence it became customary, adds Livy, to allow
this practice in monologues, or soliloquies, and to require both
voice and gesture fiom the same actor only in the colloquial parts.
We have it on the authority of Lucian, that the same practice
came to be introduced upon the Greek stage.  Formerly, says
that author, the same actors both recited and gesticulated; but as
it was observed that the continual motion, by affecting the breathiug of the actor, was an impediment to distinct recitation, it was
judged better to make one actor recite and another gesticulate.
For farther information on this matter I refer to a very ingenious
and ample disquisition by tile Abbe Du Bos in his Reections
Critiques sur la Pcasie et sur la Peinture.  Tom. i,. sect. 42.
In treating of the Greek drama, it would be an omission not to
mertion a species of dramatic composition-of a nature very much
inferior to the proper tragedy and coinmedy of the ancients; but
which, at length, in the corruption of taste, became greatly in
fashion both among the Greeks and Romans, and seems, indeed,
to have been carried to as high a degree of perfection as the
* Suetonius, in speaking of the Emperor Nero, who piqued himself on his
talents as a player, and used frequently to exhibit on the stage, says, " Tragtmdies quoque canLtauvit per.sonatus; Inter cetera cantavit Canecen parturientem
(a strange part for his imperial majesty to perform!) Orestem  matricidacm,
Oedipodem exccecatum, Herculem insanum." Some of these characters, it must
be allowed, were sufficiently consonant to their actor.




CH. VIII.]         THE GREEK THEATRE.                        25.
nature of the composition would admit of.  What I speak of is
the mimes and pantomimes.  The etymology of the words shows
that this species of entertainment was considered as a sort of
mimicry or ludicrous imitation.  The mimes originally made a
part of the ancient comedy, and the mimic actors played or exhibited grotesque dances between the acts of the comedy.  As this
entertainment was highly relished, tile mitnes began to rest on
their own merits, and setting themselves up in opposition to the
comedians, delighted the vulgar by making burlesque parodies on
the more regular representations of the stage.  Some of these
pieces were published, and were of such merit as humorous compositions, that the philosopher Plato did not disdain to confess his
adnmiration of them.
The pantomimes differed from the limes in this respect, that
they consisted solely of gesticulation, and seem to have been
very nearly of the same character with our modern pantomimes.
What is termed  in France the Italian comedy, seems, on the
other hand, to hold a very strict affinity with the ancient mimes.
Both the one and the other, if we may judge from  the names
were of Greek origin; but they were introduced into Rome towards the end of the commonwealth-and, as the spectacle was
greatly relished, the art was proportionally cultivated and improved.
The performances became gradually more refined and chaste; and
that which was at first little better than low buffoonery, began at
last. to aspire at the merits of the higher drama, tragedy and comedy.  The tragedy  of COdipus was in the reign of Augustus
performed at Rome by the pantomimes in dumb show, and that
so admirably as to draw tears from  the whole spectators.  The
chief actors in this department'Were Pylades and Bathyllus; and
the contentions excited by the partisans of these mimics'arose at
length to such a pitch, that Augustus thought proper to admonish
Pylades in private, and caution him to live on good terms with his
rival, for the sake of the public peace.  Pylades contented himself
with replying, that it was fo, the enlperor's best interest, that the
public should find nothing moru material to engross their thoughts
than him and Bathyllus.  The chief merit of Pylades, as Athenaerms informs us, lay in the comic pantomime, and that of Bathyllus
in the tragic.  But however great the perfection to which these
performances were carried by the ancients, they were always regarded as a spurious species of the drama, indicating the corruption of a mori liberal art.*
The genius of the Greeks was in no department of literary com" Lucian is a warm apologist of the art of pantomime in his dialogue /J'To
oepxiyaos,. And his contemporary, Apuleius, has given, in his florid style of
wriilt;n, an amusing account of an ancient pantomime on the subject of the
Judgment of Paris. Metanmorph. 1. x.




252                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY                 [BOOK II.
position more distinguished than in history.  In attending to the
progress of the arts and sciences, it has been generally remarked
that there are particular ages in which the human mind seems to
take a strong bent or direction to one class of pursuits in preference
to all others.  Errulation may in a great measure account for
tlhis: for when one artist or one' learned man becomes confessedly
eminent, others are excited by a natural bias to the same studies
and pursuits in which he has attained reputation.  In treating of
the fine arts among the Greeks, we remarked that extraordinary
constellation of eminent artists which adorned the age of Pericles.
We shall observe a similar phenomenon in the age of Leo the
Tenth.  In like manner we find the ablest of the Greek historians
all nearly contemporary with each other.  Herodotus, the most
ancient of the Greek historians of merit, died 413 years before the
Christian era; Thucydides 391 before that period; and Xenophon
was about twenty years younger than Thucydides.
HIerodotus,'a native of Halicarnassus, one of the Greek cities
of Asia, has written the joint history of the Greeks and Persians
from  the time of Cyrus the Great (599 B  c.) to the battles o;
Platmea and Mycale, a period of 120 years.*  He treats incidentally likewise of the history of several other nations-of the Egyptians, Assyrians, Medes, and Lydians.  His account of Egypt, in
particular, is extremely minute and curious.  He had travelled
into that country, and besides what he relates from  actual knowledge and observation, he was at much pains to obtain firom  the
priests every degree of information they could give him of the antiquities and of the manners and custonis of the country.  He
likewise visited the greatest part of Greece, travelling thence into
Thlirace and Scythia; and in Asia he made a journey to Babylon
and Tyre, and the most considerable places in Syria and Palestine.  With the object of writing his history, he seems to have
been most solicitous to collect information fiomn  every quarter;
and it is his greatest fauilt that he has nriot been sufficiently scrupulous in his admission of many idle and. absurd anecdotes, which he
had too much good sense to believe,*and yet thought not unworthy of being recorded.  It is true, that for the most part he puts
the reader on his guard in such  matters as he considers to be
either palpably fabulous or not sufficiently authenticated; but the
dignity of history is debased even by the admission of such matter, under whatever caution it is presented.  It is not to be denied,
however, that the merits of HIerodotus are of no common degree.
When we consider him as the earliest writer of regular history
among the ancients whose works have been preserved; while we
* Herodolus gives a very brief detail of the preceding period, from the reign
of' Gyges, king of Lydia (718 B. c.) to the birth of Cyrus: but the history
properly commences with Cyrus.




CH. ViiI.]          HERODOTUS-THUCYDIDES.                    253
observe the valuable and instructive details which we find in him,
and in no other historian, and remark that the subsequent writers
of reputation have rested for many material facts on his authority;
while we attend to the unaffected ease and simplicity of his narrative, the graceful flow of his style, and even the charm of his
antiquated Ionic diction-there is.perhaps no historian of antiquity
who deserves a higher estimation.*  Several of the ancient writers
have impeached the character of Herodotus in point of veracity;
but none in such severe terms as Plutarch, who has written a
pretty. long dissertation, expressly to show the want of faith and
the malignity of the historian.  The fact is, that Plutarch bore.
strong enmity against Herodotus for a supposed aspersion cast by
that historian on the honor of his country.  Herodotus had related that, in the expedition of Xerxes, the Thebans, apprehensive
of the fate of their own territory, deserted the common cause and
joined the Persians.  The fact was true; but Plutarch, who.was
a native of Chaeronea, one of the Theban states, could not bear
this imputation on his country, and wreaked his spleen on -the
historian in the treatise before mentioned.  The facts which he
instances are in general very trifling, and are chiefly such stories as the historian owns he has related on- dubious authority.
Herodotus is said to have recited history to the Greeks assembled
at the solemn festival of the Panathenaia, or, as others say, at the
Olympic gaines-an expedient for the good policy of which
Lucian gives him credit; as there could be no means half so speedy
of making known his genius and circulating his reputation.  Those
public-recitations had an admirable effect.  It was this display of
the talents of Hlerodotus and the fame which attended it, that
kindled the enthusiasm of genius in the young Thucydides.
Thucydides was a native of Athens, and of an -illustrious fami
ly; being allied, by the female line, to the kings of Thrace, and
by the male, a descendant from  Cimon and Miltiades.  A contemporary, and familiarly acquainted with many of  the most
retnarkable men of his country, with Socrates, Plato, Pericles,
Alcibiades, it was no wonder that he felt the noble enmulation of
raising himself a nalne in future ages.  He was bred to the profession of arms, and distinguished himself honorably, in the beginning of the war of Peloponnesus; but having miscarried in an
attempt to relieve Amphipolis, then blockaded by the Lacedamonianls, he was btanished, on that accoLfnt, from his country, for the
space of twenty years.  He retired to the island of tgina, and
employed the long period of his exile in composing his history
o{ the Peloponnesian war, of the progress and detail of which,
besides his own personal knowledge, he spared no pains to obtain
* In Herodd'to, curn omnia, (ut ego quidem sentio,) leniter fiuunt, turn ipsa
aRtIu.roc habtt earn jucunditatem ut latentes etiam numeros complexa videatut
— Quint. de Just. Or. lib. ix. c. 4.




254                      UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK II
the most accurate information.  Introductory to his principal subject he gives a short view of the Grecian history, from the depart.
ure of Xerxes, to the commencement of the war of Peloponnesus,
which connects his history with that of HIerodotus: but he brings
down the detail of the war only to the twenty-first year.  The
history of the remaining six years was written by Theopompus
and Xenophon.
Thtucydides is deservedly esteemed for the authenticity of his
facts, his impartiality, and fidelity.  We are, indeed, involuntarily
led from his narrative to favor the cause of his countrymen, the
Athenians; of whom, however, it may be presumed, he had no.
reason to exaggerate the merits.  The style of Thucydides is a
contrast to that of Herodotus.  The eloquience of the latter is
copious and diffuse, and his expression, never rising to the elevated
and magnificent, is chiefly remarkable for its simplicity and persplcality.  The former has a closeness and energy of style, which
is equally lively and energetic.*   Like Tacitus, he rises often to
great sublimity of expression, and, like that author too, his diction
is so compressed, that we find, often, as many ideas as there are
words.t  His narrative does not convey his meaning easily, and
without effort.  He makes the reader pause upon his sentences,
and keeps his attention on the stretch to apprehend the full import of his expressions.  That effort of attention, however, is
always amply rewarded, by the wisdom and sagacity of his observations, the intimate knowledge he shows'of his subject, and the
perfect confidence which he inspires of his own candor and
veracity.
There is no other among the Greek writers who has shone more
in the department of history, than Xenophon.  This author was
about thirty years younger than Thucydides; conteinporary with
nmany of the most illustrious men of Greece; and educated in the
school of Socrates.  He accompanied the younger Cyrus in his
war against his brother Artaxerxes, and in the latter part of that
expedition, commanded the Greek army in the service of Cyrus.
We know the fatal issue of that enterprise, in which Cyrus'fell by
the hand of his brother; —a just reward for his unnatural and
criminal ambition.:: The retreat of the ten thousand.Greeks,
under Xenophon, gave him great fame as an able commander,
eminently endowed with persevering courage, fertile in resources,
* Densus et brevis, et semper instans sibi Thucydides: dulcis et candidus et
filsus Herodotus; ille concitatis, hie remissis affectibus nielior; ille concionibus,
hic sermonibus: ille vi, hic voluptate.-QQuintil. 1. x. c. i.
t Thucydides omnes dicendi artificio mea sententitl facile vicit, ut verborum
prope nurnerurn sententiarurm numero consequatur: ita porro verhis aptus et
pressus. ut nescias utrum res oratione, an verba sententiis illustrejltur. —( cero
lib. 2. De Orat.; See supra, book ii. chap. 2..




CH. VIII.]                   XENOPHON                            255
and possessing that happy talent of address, and that popular eloquence, which are fitted for gaining the ready obedience and the
confidence of alln army.  Tile narrative of this remarkable expedition, written by hirnself, has justly entitled  him  to a high rank
among the historians of antiquity.*   His historical, political, and
philosophical works are numnerous.t   Among these, one of the
most known, though certainly not of the highest merit, is the
Cyropwedia, or Education of Cyrus; a fanciful composition, which
blends history and romance, and is equally unsatisfying in the olne
point of view  as in the other.  It is supposed that. the author
meant to exhibit the picture of an accomplished prince.  But if
that was his aim, to what purpose those frivolous and childish tales
of the nursery, those insipid jests, and that endless verbiage and
haranguing upon the most ordinary and trifling occasions?
Xenophon  was a man of strict virtue and probity, of strong
religious sentiments, referring all to the watchful administration of
the Deity, but prone to the superstitious belief of auguries and
omens.  As a writer, in point of style, he is a model of easy,
smooth, and unaffected composition; and his pure Attic dialect
has infinite grace, and a singular perspicuity or transparency of
expression,. which presents the thought at once to the reader's
mind, and leaves him no leisure to attend to the medium  through
which it is conveyed: -a supreme excellence of style, and rare,
because ignorantly undervalued, in competition with point, brilliancy and rhetorical embellishment.   Quid ego commemorem  (says
Quintilian)'Xenophontis jucunditatem  illam  inqffectatam, sed quarm
nulla possit affectatio consequi -  ut ipsa  finxisse sermonem  Gratica
videanttur? T 
The three historians I have mentioned had the fortune to live
in that age Yvwich  witnessed  the highest national glory of their
country.  But Greece, even in the days of her degeneracy as a
nation, produced some historians of uncommon merit.  Polybius
lived in the second century before the birth of Christ; at the time
when the only surviving spirit of the Greeks was that which animated the small states of Achaia.  His father, a native of Megalopolis in Arcadia, was Proetor of the Achman republic, and
executed that important office with great honor.   Polybius was
trained from  his youth to public affairs, for which his abilities emi* See supra, book ii. chap. 2.
t He wrote, besides the Anabasis and the Cyropmdia, a continuation, in seven
nooks, of the Greek history of Thucydides; a Panegyric on Agesilaus; two treatises on the Lacedmmonian and Athenian Republics; The Apology for Socrates;
and four books of the Mlemorabilia of that philosopher; a treatise on Domestic
Economy; The Banquet; Hiero, or the Economy of a Monarchy; besides some
smaller essays on Imposts, Hunting, Horsemanship; and some Epistles of which
we have only fragments.
t " Why should I mention that unaffected sweetness in Xenophon, which no
affectation could ever reach -so that the Graces themselves seem to have mrod
elled his composition?"




256                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK It
nently qualified him.  He accompanied his father on an embassy
to the court of the Ptolemies in Egypt, and afterwards went him
self as ambassador to Rome, where he resided for several years.
During that period he employed himself most assiduously in the
study of the antiquities, laws, and customs of the Romans; and
having permission from the senate to search into the records preserved in the capitol, obtained a more exact and profound acquaintance with the history and constitution of the Roman republic
than any of its own citizens.  It was probably by the advice of
the great Scipio and Laelius, who were his intimate friends, that
he formed the splendid design of composing a history of Rome,
which should comprehendthat of all the contemporary nations with
which the affairs of the republic were connected.  Preparatory,
however, to this great undertaking, he resolved to travel into every
country where lay the scene of any of those events he designed to
record.  In that view he visited most of the southern nations of
Europe, a considerable part of Asia, and the coast of Africa.  He
explored himself the traces of Hannibal in his march across the
Alps, and made himself acquainted with all the Gallic nations in
their vicinity. In short, no writer was ever more scrupulous in the
investigation of facts, or more perfectly acquainted with the scenes
he had to describe.  Thus his history is deservedly of the very
highest authority among the compositions of the ancients.  It is
much to be lamented that so small a portion should remain of so
valuable a work. Of forty books which he wrote, beginning from
the commencement of the second Punic war, and carried down to
the reduction of Macedonia into a Roman province, we have only
the first five books entire, and extracts, or rather an abridgment, of
the following twelve, with some detached fragments from the remaining books preserved by other writers.  We seedin every page
of Polybius, the intelligent officer, the sagacious politician, and the
man of probity and candor.  He neither disguises the virtues of
an enemy, nor palliates the faults of a friend.  His description of
military operations is clear and distinct, and his judgment is every
where conspicuous in reasoning on the counsels which directed all
public measures, and the causes which led to their success or failure.  The style of Polybius has, indeed, no claim to the praise of
eloquence.  Dionysius of Halicarnassus reproaches him with carelessness in the choice of his expressions, and inattention to the
rules of good writing: but he is every where perspicuous, and the
sterling value of his matter abundantly compensates for his defects
in point of rhetorical composition.
The next who deserves to he mentioned among the Greek historians of eminence, is Diodorus Siculus, who, in the latter period
of the commonwealth and in the age of Augustus, composed at
Rome his excellent General History, a work of thirty years'
labor, of which only fifteen out of forty books have been preserved.  The first five books relate to the fabulous periods, but record




CIa. VIII.]                 DIONYSIUS.                       257
likewise a great deal of curious historical matter relative to the
antiquities of the Egyptians, Assyrians, Persians, and Greeks.
The next five books are wanting.  The eleventh book begins with
the expedition of Xerxes into Greece, and continues the Grecian
hiistory, and that of the;contemporary nations, down to the age of
Alexander the Great.  The author is particularly ample on the
affairs of the Romans and Carthaginians.  The work of Diodorus
appears to have been in great esteem with the writers of antiquity.
The elder Pliny is high in his commendation; Justin Martyr ranks
him among the most.illustrious of the Greek historians; and Eusebius places greater weight on his authority than that of any
other writer.  The modern writers have blamed him for chronological inaccuracy.  It is not to be denied that the History of Diodorus is replete with valuable matter, and that his style, though
not to be compared to that of Xenophon or Thucydides, is pure,
perspicuous, and free from all affectation.
Dionysius of Halicarnassus deserves to be ranked among the
most eminent of the Greek writers of history,' both in regard
to the importance of his matter and the merit of his style, which,
though deficient in simplicity, is often extremely eloquent.  Dionysius camle to Rome in the reign of Augustus, and continuing to
reside there twenty-two years, employed that time in the most diligent research into the ancient records, in conversation with the
most learned rmen of that age, and in the perusal of the older
writers, whence he collected the materials of that most valuable
work which he composed in twenty books, entitled Roman antiquities.@   Of these only the first eleven books have been preserved, in which the origin and foundation of the Roman state are
treated with great amplitude, and the history' of the republic
brought down to the end of the decemvirate.. He has been censured for dealing in the marvellous;.but the censure applies
equally to Livy, who has repeated the same stories, without, it is
probable, either believing them  himself or expecting his readers
to do so. Those who write of the origin of nations have but
scanty materials of genuine history, and are thus tempted to eke
them out with the popular fables.  And these it is sometimes important to know, as they have frequently given rise to ceremonies
and customs both of a religious and civil nature, of which the
origin may therefore be considered as belonging to authentic history. The. point in which Dionysius is more justly to be blamed
is his fondness for system, and the desire he has to persuade his
readers of his own sagacity in discovering, as he imagines, a deep
and refined policy in the founders of the Roman state, in all those
constitutional regulations regarding the powers and rights of the
*He. gives, in the Introduction to his work, an ample account of all the
sources of information from which his history is compiled.
VOL. I.                   33




3i8                   BUNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK  I.
different orders, the functions of the magistrates, &c., which in
reality could only have arisen gradually and progressively, as circumstances pointed out and required them.  Of this error of
Dionysius, I shall have another occasion to take some notice.
There are few of the ancient historians who deserve a higher
rank in the estimation of the moderns than Arrian, whose history
of the expedition of Alexander is the most authentic narrative we
have of the exploits of that great conqueror, as he is also the best
expositor of the real motives and designs of that extraordinary
man, of whose policy such opposite judgments have been formed.
The narrative of Arrian, as he informs us in his preface, is founded
on the accounts given by two of Alexander's principal officers,
Aristobulus and Ptolemy Lagus, afterwards the sovereign of Egypt.
No historical record, therefore, has a better claim to the public
faith.  The brief account of India by Arrian, which includes the
curious journal of Nearchus's voyage, is likewise extremely interesting and instructive.  The style of Arrian formed on that of
Xenophon, is a very happy imitation of that author's simplicity,
purity, and precision.  Arrian's merits are not solely those of an
accurate and able historian; he was likewise a profound philosopher.  It is to his writings that we owe all our knowledge of the
sublime morality of Epictetus,.of whom he was the favorite disciple, and has diligently recorded the philosophical lessons and
maxims of his master.  The short treatise entitled the Enchiridion
of Epictetus, which is a complete epitome of the stoical morality,
was written by Arrian, and, from its beautiful precision, is perhaps
on the whole a more valuable memorial of that great philosopher
than the four books which Arrian has collected of his discourses.
The last author I shall mention of those properly to be classed
among the Greek historians is Plutarch, and perhaps there is niO
writer of antiquity of equal value in point of important matter
and useful information.  Plutarch was a Boeotian by birth, a native
of Chaeronea, a small state of which his father was chief magistrate, with the title of Archon.  He was borne in the 48th year
of the Christian era, under the reign of the emperor Claudius.
In his youth he travelled into Egypt, and while in that country,
studied under Ammonius, a celebrated teacher of philosophy at
Alexandria.  Returning thence into Greece, he visited all the
schools of the philosophers in that country; and,'finally, with a
mind replete with useful knowledge and an extensive acquaintance
with men and manners, he repaired to Rome, for the purpose of
examining the public records and collecting materials for the lives
of the illustrious men of Italy and Greece.  The reputation he
had acquired as a man of great erudition procured him the acquaintance, of all the learned, and introduced him to the notice of the
emperor Trajan, who honored him with high marks of his favor
and friendship, and conferred on him the proconsular government
of Illyria.  A  public life, however, was irksome to Plutarch,




RA. VIII.]                  PLUTARCH                          259
whose chief enjoyment lay in the pursuits of literature and philosophy. Ile returned, after the death of Trajan, to his native city
of Charonea, where he passed the remaining years of a long life
in discharging the office of its chief magistrate, in the composition
of his excellent wvritings, and in the continual practice of all the
active and social virtues.  The lives of Illustrious Men, written
by Plutarch, must upon the whole be ranked among the most valuable works which remain to us of the ancients.  He is the only
author who introduces us to an intimate and familiar acquaintance
with those great men, whose public exploits and political characters
we find indeed in other historians, but of whose individual features
as men, and of their manners in domestic, private, and social intercourse, we should be utterly ignorant, were it not for his descriptive
paintings, and the truly characteristic anecdotes which he records
of them.  What, if at times the biographer is chargeable with a
little garrulity, and a too scrupulous minuteness in the detail of cir
ciimstances not of the highest importance? So natural is the desire
felt by the ingenious mind of knowing every thing that concerns a
great and illustrious character, that we can much more easily forgive the writer who is cheerfully lavish of the information he has
collected, and at times descends even to trifling particulars, than
him  who, from  a proud feeling of the dignity of authorship, is
fastidiously sparing of his stores, and disdains to be ranked among
the collectors of anecdote.
A great charm of Plutarch's writings is the admirable vein of
morality which pervades all his compositions.  Every sentiment
proceeds from  the heart, and forcibly persuades the reader of the
amiable candor, worth, and integrity of the writer.  While his
biographical details contain the most valuable part of the ancient
history of Greece and Rome, his moral writings include the sum
of all the ancient ethics.  Perhaps it was no exaggerated estimate
of his merits made by' Theodore Gaza, when he declared that if
every trace of ancient learning was to perish, and he had it in his
power'to preserve one single book from  the works of the profane
writers, his choice would fall upon Plutarch.
The style of this author, though, in the judgment of the best
critics, neither polished nor pure, is at all times energetic; and, on
those occasions when the subject demands it, rises frequently to
great eloquence.
An ancient Greek epigram of Agathias records the high esteem
which the Roman people entertained for this excellent writer, in
erecting a statue to his honor.*
*The epigram is thus translated by Dryden:
" Bceotian Plutarch, to thy deathless praise
Does martial Rome this graceful statue raise;
Because both Greece and she thy fame have shared,
Their heroes written, and their lives compared.
But thou thyself could never write tfhy own;
Their lives have parallels, but thine has none,




260.                  UIVERISAL IIStolRY               [BooK UA
CHAPTER IX.
GREEr  PHILOSOPHY-Ionic Sect-Thales-Anaximander-Anaximenes-.Anax
agoras-Italic Sect-Pythagoras-Empedocles, &c. -Eleatic Sect-Zeno —.
Leucippus-Democritus-Heraclitus-Socrates-Cyrenaic Sect-Aristi ppusCynics -Diogenes - Megaric Sect-Plato-Peripatetics —Aristotle - Skeptics
-Pyrrho-Stoics-Epicureans —Reflections.
I HAVE. already remarked that one considerable effect of the public
games and festivals of the Greeks was the propagation and advances
ment of the literary spirit. The Olympic and other solemn garmes
of the Greeks were not only the field of martial and athletic exercises, but of the contests for the palm of literature. Those immense
assemblies were the stated resort of the poets, the historians, the
rhapsodists, and even the philosophers.
After the days of Homer and Hesiod, the increasing relish for
poetical composition gave rise to a set of men termed rhapsodists,
whose original employment was to travel from one city to another,
frequenting public entertainments and solemn festivals, and reciting
the works of the poets which they had committed to memory.  As
the early poets were the first teachers of the sciences, those rhapsodists became commentators on their works, and expositors of
their doctrines.  The youth, who resorted to them for instruction,
dignified their masters with the title of Sophists or professors of
wisdom, and these sophists soon became the founders of different
sects or schools of philosophy.
The history of the ancient philosophy, if we consider how
small a portion it embraced of useful knowledge, and yet how
ardent the zeal of its teachers, and how keen the controversies of
the different sects, affords on the whole a mortifying picture of the
caprice and weakness of the human mind: but on these very
accounts, no subject of contemplation is more fitted to subdue in
man those arrogant ideas of his own abilities, and of the all-sufficiency of his intellectual powers to subject the whole phenomena
both of the natural and moral. world to his limited reason and understanding.
The most ancient school of philosophy was that founded by
Thales of Miletus, about 640 years before the Christian era, and
termed the Ionic sect, from the country of its founder.  Thales is
said to have learned great part of his knowledge in Egypt, as the
ancients were fond of attributing the rudiments of all wisdom to
that happy quarter.  He became celebrated for his knowledge in




ci;. ix.]         GREEK PHILOSOPHY-THA tES.                  261
geometry and astronomy; but the former of these sciences must
be supposed to have been at that time in mere infancy, when one
of Thales's discoveries is said to have been, that all right lines
passing through the centre of a circle divide it into two equal parts.
Yet Thales made some bold and fortunate conjectures in the science of astronomy.  He conjectured this earth to be a sphere, and
that it revolved round the sun.  He believed the fixed stars to be
so many suns encircled with other planets like our.earth: he
believed the moon's light to be a reflection of the sun's from  a
solid surface: and if we may trust the testimony of ancient authors,
he was able to calculate eclipses, and actually predicted that
famous eclipse of the sun 601 years before the birth of Christ,
which separated the armies of the Medes and Lydians at the
moment.of an engagement.  The metaphysical opinions of Thales
are but imperfectly known.  He supposed the world to be framed
by the Deity out of the original element of water, and animated
by his essence as the body is by the soul; that the Deity therefore resided in every portion of space; and that this world was
oAly a great temple, where the sight of every thing around him
reminded man of that Great Being which inhabited and pervaded
it.*- As a specimen of the moral doctrines of Thales we have
the following excellent opinions and precepts: 1" Neither the crimes
of bad men, nor even their thoughts are concealed from the gods.
Health of body, a moderate fortune, and a cultivated mind, are
the chief ingredients of happiness.   Parents may expect from
their children that obedience which they themselves paid to their
parents.   Stop the mouth of slander by prudence.   Take care
not to commit the same fault yourself, which you censure in
others." t
The disciples of the ancient philosophers frequently made bold
innovations on the doctrines of their masters.  Anaximander, the
disciple and successor of Thales, who first committed the tenets
of the Ionic school to writing, taught that all things are in a state
of continual change; that there is a constant succession of worlds:
and that while some are daily tending to dissolution, others are
forming.  Anaximander is said to!have been the first constructor
of the sphere, to have delineated the limits of the earth and sea,
and to have invented the gnomon for pointing the hours by the
shadow  on the sun-dial.  His contemporary Anaximenes, of the
same school, believed the Divinity to reside in the air, which he
likewise made to be the original and constituent principle of all
the other elements.
The most intelligible and rational opinions of any philosopher of
* Thales-hornines existimare oportere, omnia qum cernerent Deorum esse
plena; fore enim omnes castiores, velutique in fanis essent, maxime religiosi. —
Cic. de Nat. Deor. i. 2.
Diog. Laert in Vita Thal.




~ ~62                  UNIVEPSAL HISTORY.               [Bno0C oK 
this school were those of Anaxagoras; and, as deviating most
from the vulgar errors and superstition, he was accused of impiety.  He taught that the first efficient principle of all things was
an immaterial and intelligent Being, existing from  all eternity;
that the substratum, or subject of his operations, was matter,
which likewise existed from  all eternity in a chaotic state, cornprehending the confused rudiments of all different substances,
which the intelligent mind of the Creator first separated, and then
combined for the formation of the universe, and of all bodies, animate and inanimate.  It is true that Thales propagated the doctrine of an eternal mind, the Creator and Ruler of the universe;
but he, like most of the ancient philosophers, seemed to consider
this mind as united to matter, which was animated by it, as the
body is by the soul. Anaxagoras regarded the mind of the Creator to be altogether distinct from  matter; incapable of being
included in space or substance of any kind, and of a nature entirely
pure and spiritual.  But if the general principles of Anaxagoras's
philosophy were correct and rational, when he came to particulars, his notions partook of the vulgar absurdities.  He conjectured the stars to be stones, which the rapid movement of the
ether had whirled up into the region of fire.  The sun lie supposed to be a mass of red-hot iron, somewhat bigger than the
Peloponnesus; an opinion, we are told, which led to a charge of
impiety,.and was punished by sentence of banishment and a fine of
five talents; though Pericles, who had been Anaxagoras's pupil,
stood forth on that occasion as his defender.  His successors of
the Ionic school were Diogenes of Apollonia, and Archelaus; the
latter, the master of Socrates, who thence, in strict arrangement,
should be recorded among the philosophers of the Ionic sect; but
as this great man made a signal revolution in philosophy, I delay
to mention his doctrines and opinions, till I give a brief account
of the notions of his predecessors.
Soon after the Ionic, arose the Italic sect, so termed from
the country where Pythagoras, its founder, is said to have first
taught.  Pythagoras is generally believed to have been a native
of Samos; but the time in which he flourished is quite uncertain.
All that Brucker concludes, from comparing the different accounts,
is, that his era.may be placed somewhere between the forty-third
and fifty-third Olympiad; that is to say near six centuries before
the birth of Christ.  Pythagoras travelled into Egypt, where he
spent, as is said, no less than twenty-two years':n the study of
the sciences, as well as of the secret doctrines of the priests.
After the invasion of that country by Cambyses, he was carried
among the captives to Babylon, where he increased his stores of
wisdom by the conversation of the magi. Thence he is said to
have travelled into India, to acquaint himself with the doctrines
of the Gymnosophists. Returning into his native country of
Samos, he chose to escape the tyranny of its sovereign by migra



cl-. IX.]                PYT-HAGOREANS.                      263
ting into Italy, where he established a school at Crotona, and signally contributed, by his doctrines and example, to reform  the
manners of that dissolute city.  In imitation of the Egyptian
priests, Pythagoras professed two different kinds of doctrine, the olg.
accommodated to vulgar use, and tile other reserved for the pln
vate ear of his favorite disciples.  The object of the former was
morality; the latter consisted of many mysteries which we are
probably at no loss for being very little acquainted with.  Five
years of silence were requisite for preparing his scholars for the
participation of these secrets.  These disciples formed among
themselves a sort of community; they lived all, in the same house
together with their wives and children; they had their goods in
common, and their time was parcelled out and appropriated to
various exercises of mind and body.  Music was in high esteem
with them, as a corrective of the passions; and they had one
kind of music for the morning, to awaken and excite the faculties,
and another for the evening, to relax and compose them. The
notion which Pythagoras inculcated of the soul's transmigratiox
through different bodies, made his disciples strictly abstain from
animal food.  As a proof that Plutarch, thoughkcommonly regarded
by the critics as an:-unpolished writer, was not destitute of eloquence, we might desire any one to read that short oration of his
TegQi Saxonpoya7; an apology for the Pythagoreans abstaining from
the flesh of animals, of which there is a beautiful paraphrase in
the Emile of Rousseau; an address to the feelings which would
almost make us believe ourselves monsters, for indulging an appetite, so cruel and unnatural.
The main object of the philosophy of Pythagoras was to mortify
and subdue the corporal part of our nature by a certain prescribed
course of discipline, and thus to prepare and fit the intellectual
part for its proper function, the search of immutable truth, the
contemplation of the divine nature, arid, the nature of the human
soul.  The long silence enjoined to his disciples accustomed them
to mental abstraction.  The sciences of arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy, were sedulously cultivated; but whether as
considered to be parts of the preparatory discipline, or as the objects of that discipline, seems to be a little uncertain.  The latter
would appear-the more probable supposition, for this reason, that
the philosopher taught that much mysterious and hidden. truth was
contained in certain arithmetical numbers and geometrical and
musical proportions, which he communicated only to the higher
and more advanced class of his disciples.  Pythagoras regarded
the human soul as consisting of' two parts-the one a sensitive,
which is common to man and the inferior animals; the other a
rational and divine, which is common to man with the Deity, and
is indeed a part of the divine nature.  The.first perishes with the
body, of which it is an inseparable adjunct; the other survives
and is immortal; but after the death of one body it enters into




264                   UJNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 tBOOKC 12
another, and so passes through an endless series of transmigrations.
It is punished.by degradation into the body of an inferior animals
and thus suffers a temporary suspension of its rational and intellectual nature. It was this notion which led to abstinence from the
flesh of animals.  It is uncertain whether Pythagoras committed
any of his doctrines to writing.  What remains under his name is
commonly believed to have been the writing of some of his disciples. The Golden Verses, on which Hierocles has written a corn
mentary, and which contain  the principal moral tenets of the
Pythagorean philosophy, are, from  the polished structure of the
verse, evidently of a much later age than that of the philosophero
They have been attributed with some probability to Epicharmus,
who lived about 440 a. c.
Of the Pythagorean or Italic sect, there were many philosophers of reputation:-among others, Empedocles of Agrigentum,
who attained to considerable eminence in physical science, and
who is said to have thrown himself into the crater of Mount Etna,
either from the desire of exploring the cause of its eruptions, or of
propagating the belief that the gods had caught him up into
heaven; it is a wiser and more charitable supposition, that he
owed his death to a laudable but rash curiosity.  Epicharmus of
Agrigentum, the supposed author of the duorea Carminca, was likewise a teacher of the Pythagorean philosophy, and attempted to
render its doctrine popular by introducing them  to the public
through the medium of the drama; a project which gave offence.to the graver teachers of wisdom, but procured this philosopher a
more extensive reputation; for his comedies were so excellent,
that Plautus did not disdain to borrow  from  them.  Arcbytas of
Tarentum was likewise of the Pythagorean school.  He is said to
have suggested that division of the ten predicaments, which was
afterwards adopted by Aristotle.  It is as an able geometrician and
astronomer that Horace has embalmed his memory and.recorded his
unhappy fate.' Te maris et terree, numeroque carentis arenam
Mensorem cohibent, Archyta,
Pulveris exigui prope litus parva matinumr
Munera, nec quicquam tibi prodest
Aerias tentasse domos, animoque rotundurn
Percurrisse polum morituro." *
JIor. Od. 1. i. 28.
He perished by shipwreck, in a voyage undertaken probably for
the purpose of astronomical or geometrical discoveries. But the
* "Close by the shore a span of earth contains,
Oh, mighty man of art! thy last, thy great remains;
Whose penetrating mind and skilful hands
Measured the heavens' and earth, and numbered all the sands.
Vain is thy learning now; thy active soul
No more shall trace the stars, or travel to the pole."
Bentley.




CH. IX.]                ELEATIC SCHOOL.                      265
most celebrated philosopher of the Pythagorean sect, of whose
opinions we have the best information, because derived from his own
writings, is Ocellus Lucanus.  His treatise Hestl Ta caTroS, or of
the Universe, has come down to our times entire, and is a valuable
-monument of the philosophy of the ancients.  His fundamental
doctrines are the eternity of the mundane system, and its absolute
perfection, so as to- exclude the possibility of change from the
failure or corruption of any of its parts.  From this ancient philosopher, Aristotle and Plato have borrowed largely in their writings
on the nature of the universe.
The Eleatic sect of philosophy, believed to have sprung from
the Pythagorean or Italic, -was founded by Xenophanes, about
500 years before Christ.  It was called Eleatic because it owed
its fame chiefly to Parmenides, Zeno, and Leucippus, natives of
Elea, a city of ZEolia.  The metaphysical doctrines of this sect,
in so far as we can judge of them from  the few  fragments which
have. srvived, and the notices of them  found in the works of
Aristotle, are perfectly unintelligible.  They maintained that things
had neither a beginning, an end, nor any change; that all the phenomena which we see of changes in the visible world are entirely
in our own senses; and that of the real essence of things we have
no perception, and therefore can attain to no knowledge: but as
our senses are fallacious, and it is only through their medium  that
we perceive any thing, so we cannot trust to them, and therefore
have no assurance of the truth of any thing whatever.  Yet upon
this basis of nothing, the Eleatics (strange to tell) raised a system
of physics, of which the principal doctrines were, that the universe
was a compound of the four elements; that the stars were kindled
up by the motion of the clouds; that the sun was an immense body
of ignited vapor; but that various suns lighted various parts of the
earth; and, finally, (the only rational dogma, though not derived by
any logical inference from premises,) that there is but one God
who rules over all nature.
Of the Eleatic schotl were Leucippus and his disciple Democritus; though they seem to have introduced a philosophy considerably different from  that of Pagmenides, Xenophanes, and
Zeno. Leucippus supposed all things to have originated from
atoms, moving in an infinite space, and producing all sensible objects by their combinations: but it was only these combinations
that we perceived; we did not perceive the atorns themselves;
we therefore did not perceive the reality of things, but only their
appearances; a strange and pitiful sophistry.  If Democritus held
these opinions, it was no wonder that he, who is said to have
laughed at every thing, should have laughed at the doctrines of
his own sect, and at all who adopted them: but the truth is, that
Democritus was of no such sportive disposition. He spent the
gr.eatest part of his life (which was extended to a hundred years)
in solitary study, in observing the phenomena of nature, making
VOL. 1.                 34




#66                   UNIVERSAL HIISTORY                [BOOK II.
experiments on minerals, and dissecting the human body —a course
of life which indicates a genius superior to the folly of framing idle
theories on the sole basis of conjecture.
From the same school of Elea, though sometimes accountea
the father of a new sect, was Heraclitus, whose disposition, the
reverse of that of Dernocritus, accounted every thing a matter of
melancholy.  He seems to have been endowed with the austere
spirit of a Carthusian; for, rejecting the chief magistracy'of his
native city, Ephesus, on account of the incorrigible vice of its
inhabitants, he betook himself to the desert, and fed upon roots
aend water, making the beasts his companions in preference to man.
He wrote a treatise on Nature, in which he made fire the origin of
all things; but this fire he conceived to be endowed with mind, and
to be properly the anima mundi, or the Divinity.  His writings
were purposely obscure, whence he got the epithet of _xzoTE'Ros,
or the dark philosopher.  It is said, fhat Euripides having sent
this treatise on Nature to Socrates, the latter, with his accustomed
modesty, gave it this character, " That all that he could understand of it seemed good; and that what surpassed his understanding, he presumed might likewise be so."
Hitherto, the principal object of the ancient Greek philosophy
seems to have been the framing of theoretical systems of the
origin and fabric of the universe, and the nature of the Divinity,
accounted its soul, or animating principle: sublime, no doubt, and
daring speculations, but little accommodated either to the weak
intellect of man, or suited to improve his moral nature and increase
his happiness.  We must now speak of a philosopher who took
juster views both of the powers and of the wants of human nature,
and who, accordingly, directed his attention to that true philosophy
whose object is at once to enlighten the understanding and improve
the heart. It is easily perceived, that I speak here of Socrates,
he who, according to Cicero's comprehensive eulogy, " brotught
down philosophy from  heaven to dwell uWn earth, who made her
even an inmate of our habitations," * and directed her research to
the real interests of man, in the pursuit of his highest attainable
happiness.  With tile fate of this illustrious teacher we are already
acquainted. t  It is necessary here only to take notice of his method
of plhilosophizing, and of his principal doctrines.  Greece was, in
the days of Socrates, overrun with Sophists-pretended  philosopliers, whose whole science consisted in a certain futile logic; an
artificial apparatus of general arguments, which they could apply
to every topic, and by which they could maintain, with an appearance of plausibility, either side of any proposition.  It was usual
for these philosophers to get up in the public assemblies or in the' Cic. Tusc. quwst. 1. i. c. 5.
t See supra, book ii. c. 2.




c  M.IX.]                  SOCRATES.                         267
theatres, and offer to argue or make an oration on a'ny subject that
should be named.  The Athenians, a superficial people, fond of
every thing new  and extraordinary, were quite captivated with
this kind of jugglery.*  The Sophists passed for the wisest and
most eloquent of men; and the youth flocked in crowds to their
schools, where the rudiments of this precious art were explained
and communicated.  T''he sober part of the Athenians judged this
to be a veiy useless discipline; but the wiser Socrates saw the
pernicious tendency of this new art of philosophizing, which made
every thing uncertain and problematical; and his penetrating intellect easily perceived the method by which it was to be exposed and
destroyed.
As all the strength and skill of the Sophists lay in the application of general arguments to the questions which they canvassed,
nothing more was necessary for their confutation than to bring
therl to particulars-to set out by some simple and self-evident
proposition, which being granted, another followed equally undeniable, till the disputant was conducted, step by step, by his own
confessions, to that side of the question on which lay the truth.
No method could be devised more effectual than this for the detection of sophistry; and the Athenian logicians very soon found that
their general apparatus of argument would not avail them  against
so subtile an antagonist.  They lost all credit and reputation as
philosophers; but they had influence enough to poison the minds
of the people with the belief that Socrates taught impious doctrines,
contrary to the religion of their country; and their malice, as we
have already seen, was but too successful.  Their revenge was
satiated by the death of one of the best of men: a crime which
drew upon Athens the reproach of all Greece, and which she
vainly endeavored  to expiate by the punishment of his judges,
and the honors paid to his memory.
The doctrines of Socrates, which he never committed to writing,
are only.to be gathered imperfectly from Plato and Xenophon.
The latter is the better authority, as Plato is generally believed to
have used the name of Socrates on many occasions to give weight
to his own opinions.   Socrates founded all his morality on the
belief of a God, who delighted in virtue, and whose justice would
reward the good and punish the wicked in an after state.  Of consequence, he believed in the immortality of the soul.  He held
that there were intermediate beings between God and man, who
presided over the different parts of the creation, and who were to
be honored with'an inferior worship.  IHe believed that virtuous
men were particularly favored by the Divinity, who more espe
* Seneca has well compared sophistical reasoning to the tricks of a juggles,
though he judges too favorably in accounting it a harmless play: " Idem de
istis captionibus dico: nec ignoranti nocent, nec scientem  juvant.' -Sen.
Epist. 45.




~e68                 vUNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 [BOOK II
cially manifested his care of them  by the constant presence and
aid of a good genius, who directed all their actions, and guarded
themn by secret monitions from  impending evils; but on this subJect, as he declined to express himself with precision, it has been
reasonably conjectured, that he alluded merely to the influence of
conscience, which extends its power to the virtubus alone, and
deserts the vicious, abandoning them to the just consequences of
their crimes.  With regard to the pursuit of knowledge, Socrates
held that all science was contemptible which did not tend to the
happiness of man, by the regulation of his conduct in society; that
the most beneficial wisdom is to be intimately acquainted with
ourselves, to see our errors and defects, that we may be enabled to
amend them.   He inculcated a veneration for the religion of our
country, a strict respect to its laws, and a reverence for its governors, while at the same time he held the rational opinion that the
true foundation of legal government is the consent of the people,
amid the surest bond of the subject's allegiance, the watchful care
and virtuous disposition of the sovereign.
Socrates did not affect the manners or the habits of a public
teacher.  He had no school;'he gave no professed  lectures on
philosophy; he mingled with his fellow citizens in all ranks of life,
conversing with each man on the subjects best suited to his occupation and talents.  The theatres, the temples, the shops of the
artists, the courts of justice, the public streets, were all occasionally the scene of his moral conversations and instructive arguments.
Even the house of the courtesan Aspasia was honored with his
frequent visits.  He found in that accomplished woman a mind
stored with various knowledge, an acute and vigorous understanding, and those engaging manners which gave her a powerful hold
of the minds of the Athenian youth.  She was the mistress and
confidant of Pericles, who did not disdain to consult her on affairs
of public concern.   If we should  hesitate to suppose that the
philosopher thought it not unworthy of his character to improve
her morals and reclaim  her mind to virtue, he might reasonably
seek his own improvement, and avail himself of her knowledge of
the world to enlarge and extend his powers of utility.
" Tutor of Athens! he in every street
Dealt priceless treasure: goodness his delight,
Wisdom his wealth, and glory his reward.
Deep through the human heart, with playful skill,
His simple question stole; as.into truth
And serious deeds he smiled the laughing race;
Taught moral happy life, whate'er can bless
Or grace mankind; and what he taught he was."
Thomson's Liberty, part ii.
With the death of Socrates, sophistry regained her empire
Even his own disciples departed from the doctrines of their master
Aristippus, the founder of the Cyrenaic sect, adopted great part
of the Socratic morality, but added some peculiar opinions of his




CI. IX.]                   DIOGENES.                       269
own. It was his idea that a philosopher would follow justice and
the practice of virtue, from the sole consideration of his own advantage, and without regard to the interests of others.  He placed
the chief happiness -of man in pleasure, and true philosophy was
that which procured the largest portion of selfish gratification. We
must presume that intellectual, not sensual pleasure, was in the philosopher's contemplatidn while he' advanced this dogma; but even
with this allowance, his object was far less worthy than that which
his master proposed, general utility.
The morality of Socrates, thus modified by the Cyrenaic sect
and not improved, was pushed the length of extravagance by the
Cynics.  -The founder of this sect was Antisthenes, a pupil of
Socrates, but who probably did not possess the esteem  of his
master.  To evince his contempt of luxury, he chose to wear an
old and tattered cloak.  " Why so ostentatious?" said Socrates.
" Through your ragged coat I see your vanity." Virtue, in the
opinion of the Cynics, consisted in renouncing all the conveniences
and comforts of life.  They clothed themselves in rags, disdained
to live in a house, slept in the streets, ate nothing but what was
coarse and insipid, and wandered about the country with a stick
and a knapsack.  They decried all the arts as either useless or
dangerous.  Science was altogether fruitless and unnecessary; for
a virtuous man had attained to the perfection of his nature, and
had no need to learn any thing. From voluntary ignorance they
advanced to impudence; and having nothing to lose, while they
scorned all gain, they indulged themselves in satire and invective
without restraint.  It is, however, not improbable that this spirit
of censure with which they were-actuated has drawn many calumrnnies on their sect.   The vices with which Diogenes has been
reproached are hardly to be believed, when we know that some
of the most virtuous of the Greeks were his admirers and disciples.
As the character of this extraordinary' person was differently
judged of in his own time, some accounting him the wisest of men,
and others little better than a madman, it is no wonder that his
estimation with the moderns should be equally various.  It is not
to be doubted that the love of singularity was a powerful motive
of his conduct and opinions. He opposed the common sense of
mankind, and affected a contempt even of reputation, as he found
that conduct a new mode of acquiring it.  But that in his character
there were many features of a truly philosophic mind, we are warranted to conclude from the uncommon excellence of those opinions
and sentiments of his which the ancient authors have preserved.
Diogenes held that the practice of virtue was man's chief end of
existence; that as the body is strengthened by active labor, the
mind is invigorated and kept in health by a constant tenor of active
virtue; that even the contempt of pleasure is a solid and rational
pleasure; that self-applause is a sufficient reward to the wise man;




270                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [EBOOIr mI
while glory, honors, and wealth are only the bait of fools; that the
consummation of folly is to be loud in the praise of virtue without
practising it; that the gods refuse the prayers of man often from
compassion.
The caustic wit of Diogenes procured him both enemies and
admirers,  Of this talent the ancient writers, and particularly his
namesake Laertius, have, preserved many specimens.  There was
a mutual hostility between him  and Plato.  That the latter, however, entertained no mean opinion of the talents of his rival,
appears from his terming him  a Socrates run mad.  Plato had
defined man to be a two-legged animal without feathers.  Diogenes plucked the feathers from a cock, and thrust him into the
academy: " See," said he, II"Plato's man!"  The bluntness of
his manners was exemplified in his celebrated answer to Alexander
the Great, who, coming to visit the philosopher, and finding him
seated in his tub, asked if he could do him any favor; "Yes,"
said the other,' stand from between me and the sun."  Discoursing, one day, in a grave tone, on the practice of virtue, when
he observed his auditors dropping off, he began all at once to
bawl out a song of ribaldry and nonsense, when immediately a
great crowd gathered around him: " See," said he,' how willingly
a fool is listened to, when a wise man is neglected."  Hearing,
on one occasion, a worthless fellow lamenting that he was dying
at a distance from his native country, "Don't be uneasy, friend,
about that," said he, i wherever you die, you'll find a passage
to hell."
It is not a little extraordinary that a sect even of sophists should
have arisen from the school of Socrates.  This was the Megaric
sect, of which Euclid was the founder; not Euclid the mathematician, for his science owned no affinity with sophistry.  The
Megaric philosophers were the happy inventors of those logical
quibbles which, even in modern ages, have exercised the talents of
the gravest men, and which were often employed with success to
propagate error and obscure the truth.  The chief philosophers of
this sect, besides its founder, were Euqbulides, Alexinus Elebnsis,
characteristically named Elenchinus or the Wrangler, Diodorus,
surnamed Cronos or the Driveller, and Stilpo, a philosopher of
real learning and ability, but who gave too much importance to
subtilty of disputation —in Brucker's phrase, in litigioso dicendi
genere potentissimus.
The most celebrated of the disciples of Socrates was Plato,
a philosopher whose doctrines have" had a more extensive and a
more lasting empire over the minds of mankind than those perhaps
of any other of the ancients.  Plato, a native of AEgina, and thus
by his country an Athenian, was born about 430, B. c.   His
lineage was most illustrious, being descended on the father's side
from  Codrus, and on the mother's from  Solon.  With every
accomplishment of education suitable to his birth, and showing




cn. xx.]                     PLATO.                          271
early indications of a genius for poetry, he attached himself at the
age of twenty to the school of Socrates, and soon became the
greatest adept in the philosophy of his master, whose discourses
he committed to writing in the same colloquial form  in which
they were delivered.  The Dialogues of Plato are therefore the
most ample documents of the Socratic philosophy, though not the
most correct and pure; for it-was Plato's practice to blend his own
opinions with those of Socrates, and this without any note of distinction.  He learned the dialectic art from  Euclid the Megaric;
he studied the Pytllagorean system under Phitolaus and Archytas;
and his travels into Egypt accomplished him  in all the'wisdom of
that country, and particularly in the science of geometry.  Returning to Athens, he established his school in the grove called
the Academy, over the gate of which, to show the importance he
annexed to mathematical studies, he placed this inscription, Ov8e;
dTeyWoe1TQTOro     Elt7T, " Let none enter here who is ignorant of
geometry."
The reputation of Plato procured him numberless hearers and
admirers.  Among these were some of the most eminent men of
Greece.  It is enough to say that Demosthenes, Isocrates, and
Aristotle were his disciples.  The philosophy of Plato embraced
three distinct branches of science: theology, tunder which are
comprehended his metaphysical opinions; physics; and politics.
In the first department it was Plato's fundamental doctrine that
from  nothingi, nothing can proceed.  Believing, therefore, in the
eternal existence of the Deity, he believed likewise in the eternity
of matter, as the substratum  or; fw1) of the Deity's operations.
This matter, however, was in a chaotic state, and endowed with no
qualities whatever, till the eternal mind conferred these qualities
upon it, reduced it into order, and thus formed the beautiful
fabbiic of the universe, of which the idea or archetype had existed
from all eternity in himself.  But in chaotic matter Plato conceived that as there was an original deformity, so there was a
natural resistance to that perfect order and excellence which the
Deity sought to produce, but which he could not entirely ovcrcome; and hence the origin of that evil which partially contaminates his works: yet here the philosopher seems himself to perceive
the objection fiom the boundless power of the Divinity, as he
expresses himself with great obscurity on the subject. His notions
of God, however, are not only most sublime, but extremely refined.
Ile conceived that the Divine nature consisted of three distinct
essences, states, or hypostases: the first a pure and self-existent
Essence, whose sole attribute was goodness, hence indiscriminately
termed by Plato To o' and -r dcyaov; the second he conceived to
be Mind, the wisdom or reason of the first, and the proper Creator of the universe, and therefore by Plato termed sometimes N5ov;
(the intelligence,) _4o7o (the word,) and sometimes 4dw1e~y og (the
Creator;) the third he conceived to be the Soul of the world; as




272                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK II.
he conceived*the activity of created matter to infer an inhabiting
mind, and this he termed either simply the qvxrl (the soul,) or
qpvI/ za ozyus (soul of the world.)  The second hypostasis he supposed to be an emanation from the first, and the third from  both.
Such is the Platonic Trinity, bearings in its general description, a
strong resemblance to the Christian; but differing in this material
point, that in the former, the second and third persons are subordinate and inferior to the first.  Yet the learned Cudxvorth and
other ingenious men have strenuously labored to prove the perfect
conformity of the two doctrines.
But in the metaphysics of Plato there is yet another principle,
which it is more difficult to comprehend.  This is his doctrine of
ileas, which in some parts of his writings he seems to consider as
eternal existences separate from the Divinity, and in others, to
regard only as certain for'ms or notions eternally existing in the
Divine mind.  The former, Plutarch * seems to think, was Plato's
meaning.  But be this as it may, he regarded those ideas as somethink eternal and immutable, and therefore held that they were
the only true and proper objects of science.  It was according to
these eternally-existing ideas that God himself had formed the
universe, which he endowed with a living soul, whence proceed
both its periodical revolutions and its active and productive energy.
But the universe, being thus animated by a soul which proceeds
from  God, is hence to be considered as containing a part of the
Divinity.  The planets are in like manner animated by a part of
the Divine nature.  Man, endowed with a rational soul, contains
within himself.:a part of God.  That part —his intellectual spirit —
therefore, existed from all eternity, and is in its nature incapable
of extinction.  Inhabiting a body of corrupt and rebel matter, it
is subject to vice and misery; but, by a noble warfare against the
corruption of its earthly vehicle, by subduing its unruly passions,
and exercising itself in the practice of virtue and divine contemplation, it best fits itself for returning to its original state, a co/xistence with the Divinity.
What is properly termed the physics of Plato is so chimerical,
to say no worse, that it scarcely merits attention.  Fire and earth
he supposed were the component parts of the visible world, and
these were united by air and water.  The particles of earth are
cubes, those of fire are pyramidial, those of air are octohedrons,
and those of water eicosihedrons.  They are combined according
to geometrical laws, and the anima mundi gives motion and regularity to the whole.
In politics Plato was equally a visionary speculatist as in physics.
In his Republic and Dialogue on Laws, his notions betray an
Ignorance of human nature, with much enthuslasm of mind, and a
* See his Platonic Questions and Commentary on the Timaeus of Plato.




atR. Ox.]                PLATO-ARISTOTLE.                         273
large fund of benevolence.  Hte wished to make all men philosophers, and to extinguish every vicious propensity by. an absolute
control of tile passions; and his Republic might subsist were such
a scheme practicab e.
Two circumstances seerm  chiefly'to  have contributed  to  the
great popularity and duration of the Platonic philosophy: the one,
the eloquence with which its doctrines were propounded; the other,
the pleasing effect of the notion which, by approaching man to the
De ty, and making him even a part of; the Divine natule, flattered
*his pride, and increased his self-importance.
rThe school of Plato, or the philosophy of the Ancient Academy,
hlad in itself many divisions, whose, particular distinguishing tenets
it would be both tedious and  fruitless to  enumerate.  Btut the
Platonic philosophy found its chief opponents in four remarkable
sects-those of Aristotle, of Pyrrllo,  of Zeno, and Epicurus; in
other words, the Peripatetic, the Skeptic, the Stoic, and the Epicurean.
Aristotle was born at Stagyra, a Thracian city, then under the
dominion of Macedonia.  His father was physician to Philip, the
father of Alexander the Great.  After a youth of dissipation, he
betook. himself with indefatigable ardor to the study of philosophy,
and was for twenty years a favorite disciple of Plato.  His high
reputation for universal learning procured him from Philip the
important charge  of the  education  of the young Alexander-a
trust which fhe fulfilled with zeal and ability.  After his pupil had
arrived at manhood, and had begun the career of his impetuous
Jife, the philosopher repaired to Athens, where he established a
school of philosophy in the Lyceum.  It was his custom  to discourse to his disciples in walking, and hence his philosophy was
ternled peripatetic.  Endowed with great original genius, he disdained an implicit adherence to the doctrines of Plato, or those of
any other philosophei.  He not only dared to think and reason
for himself on  almost every branch  of human knowleage, out,
nobly confident of his own' powers, to prescribe the laws of reasoning to others, and even to rediice to system the combined
result of all that was known in his age, both in the science of matter' and of mind.  A great body of his writings is yet preserved,*' Very few of the writings of Aristotle were published durino his lifetime.
Amongort these few were probably his Poetics and his Art of Rhetoric, as both
these treatises were composed for the use of his pupil Alexander, and might
prbh,hlv!,asm intr. mrany htnds during the life of their author. The rest-of. his
works he bequeathed to Theophrastus, who left them to Neleus Scepsius; the
liatter sold a part of them to Ptolemy Philadelphos, and these perished in the
burning of the Alexandrian library. The rest were buried, as is said, for the
sake of preservation,-in some subterraneous vault, where they lay forgotten for
1:30 years, and at their recovery were found in a very defective state from
corruption. In that state they fell into the hands of Apellicon of T'eos, who.supplied the deficiencies from his own invention, and not always with great
VOLo I.                      35




274           ~UNIVERSAL HISTORY                           [BoK  Si
and is sufficient to warrant our estimation of Aristotle as one of
the most vigorous and comprehensive geniuses that ever the world
has produced.
The logics of Aristotle are contained in the books of his Organon.  A predominant passion of this philosopher, observable in
most of his writings, and more particularly in' his logics, is the
classifying and arranging the objects of knowledge.  Thus the
Organon sets out with a division of all things of a simple or uncompounded nature, into  ten categories.  Those are substanceo
quantity, quality, relation, place, time, situation, having, doing,
suffering.  Each of these is discussed at large in a separate chlapter.  We have next the division and arrangement of propositions
into five predicables or universals, viz.: genus, species,. difference,
property, and accident.  One or other of these may be predicated
or affirmed of all propositions.  The purpose of the division into
categories, is to arrange all the simple and uncompounded objects
of human knowledge under certain general classes;, and by subdividing these, as private soldiers make part of a company, and so
many companies make a regiment, we can, in like manner,. muster
all the notions that enter the human mind, in rank and file, as a
well-ordered and regular army.  By the division into prcedicables,
we are taught all the relations which the subject can have to the
predicate, or the thing affirmed of the subject.  That divisions of
this kind may have a beneficial effect in producing an accuracy in
thinking and reasoning, it would'be. vain to deny; though it, may
be alike vain to annex to them such a degree of importance as
they seem to have held with Aristotle and his followers.
But the chief part of the Organon of Aristotle is his theory of
syllogisms contained in those books called the J.nalytics, because
the intention of them is to resolve all reasoning into simple ingredients. It is well known what importance was for many ages
annexed to syllogistic reasoning, in regarding it, not only as a test
of truth, but as an instrument for the advancement of science.  It
is now, perhaps more than it ought to be, undervalued.   It may
be safely affirmed, that there is no false proposition which can stand
the test of fair syllogistic argument; and, therefore, the utility of
this.criterion for the detection of sophistical reasoning cannot be
denied.  But it is equally an error to suppose, that syllogistic argument is capable of leading to discoveries in any of the sciences.
If our forefathers, therefore, by trusting to it as a guide in the latter department, attributed more to this mode of reasoning tihan'
it was capable of performing, we of the present day, by denying
its use in the former, and altogether exploding its employment,
felicity. They came, finally, into the possession of Tyrannion, the grammarian
who used the same freedom to a yet greater degree. Hence we must make
much allowance for the imperfection, obscurity, and perhaps contradiction which
may be Fiind in the writings of Aristbtle, as they now apper.




c   IeS:.] iARYSTOTLE.                                         25.
seem  to have run to an extreme as blameable.  This error has
arisen from a misapprehension of the sentiments of Lord Bacon,
who is geaerally stlpposed to have condemned the syllogistic mode
of reasoning as alto ether useless.  But this is a mistake.  That
great philosopher justly exploded the application of logical reasonang to the science of physics, by clearly showing that such a process
could never lead to discoveries in that science, which were the
fruit alone of induction from  experiment, and the observation of
facts.  But he was far from denying the utility of logical reasoning
in its proper sphere.  LHe remarks, that it is the province of /ogic
to lead not to the invention of arts, but of arguments, and, therefore, that in the popular sciences of morality, law, divinity, and
the like, it has its proper and useful application.*
A large portion of the works of Aristotle is occupied by his
physical writings.  In these he treats separately of the nature of
thie world, of the heavens, of meteors, of the human soul, of the
length and shortness of life, of youth, old age, and death.  He
has likewise given an ample history of animals in ten books-a
portion only of a work which extended to forty books.  The regard which Alexander entertained for his preceptor, as well as for
the interests of science, was manifested in his collecting, at a prodigious expense, during his Asiatic expedition, all the rare productions of nature, and particularly an astonishing variety of animals,
which he sent home to Greece, for the use of Aristotle in the
composition of his natural history.  The descriptions, therefore,
of natural objects, and of the structure and habits of animals, contained in this work, are extremely valuable, as being the result of
actual examination  and study.  In the description of the heavenly
bodies and their motions, and generally in mathematical science,
Aristotle has shown less knowledge than his predecessors, Pythagora andPlato.''lhe vanity of Aristotle prompted him  to aim  at universal
knowledge; and professing to embrace the whole circle of the
sciences, he only manifests the more signally his superficial knowledge in many departments, and his presumptuous rashness in deciding questions beyond the reach of human intellect.   These
palpable defects have injured  his legitimate reputation in those
branches of science in which he is truly excellent.  It is in his
critical and moral writings that the talents of Aristotle are more
usefully displayed than in any others of his works: I allude here
to the fragment, which alone we possess, of his Poetics) and to
his.art of Rhetoric; more particularly the latter.
The Poetics of Aristotle have commonly been considered as a
See Bacon's works, vol. i. p. 63, folio edition. The utility of logical reasoning is most ably shown by Dr. Reid, in the concluding part of hiis Analysis of
Aristutle's Logic, in Sketches of the History of Man, book iii.




.276                    UNIVERSAL HiSTORY.                  BO 
brief digest of the laws of criticism in poetry; but it is that species
of criticism  which assigns no other foundation for its judgments
than authority, or the practice of the best writers.  Aristotle inthis fragment has not ascended to the source of criticism, which is
to be found in the structure of the mind and nature of the passions.
He describes with great precision the three different species of
poetical comedy, tragedy, and epic * composition' Ile details the
requisite ingredients of each species- with respect to subject, as
they are'classed under the divisions of fable, sentiments, and manners; and he briefly lays down  the rules for the structure and
style of each species.  But this code of laws rests upon the sole
authority of the legislator, and. not upon any solid basis of nature,
or consonance to the universal feelings of mankind.   The only
reason given by Aristotle for their observance is, that Homer,.Eschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, and the best of the Greek poets,
have observed them.  This, no doubt, is a presumption of their
rationality; and, at any rate, it is useful instruction in any art to
know what has been the general practice of the best artists.
But the Treatise on Rhetoric is not a fragment, and must oe
more seriously considered.  In that treatise, the author has given
an elaborate analysis of the passions, and of the sources of pain
and  pleasure, happiness and  unhappiness; as such  an analysis
affords the best instruction in the means of swaying the passions
and persuading the judgment to the purposes of the orator, which
it' is the province of this science to teach.  Here Aristotle has
shown the most profound knowledge of human nature, and a genius
truly philosopihical-in investigating the most delicate modifications
of the affections, and the power they have of balancing each other's
influence; as he has strikingly evinced his own peculiar'talent of
generalization and scientific arrangement.
The style,of Aristotle is a -great contrast to that of Palto   the
latter is eloquent, diffuse, and figurative; the former dry, sententious, and so compressed, that it requires often the most painful
attention to follow his chain of reasoning, and in many instances
even to discover his true meaning.  This is particularly the case
in his metaphysical writings. The obscurity prevalent in these
parts of his works was remarked by ancient writers, and has given
rise to numberless commentaries and explanations, totally different
from  each other.   It has been supposed  that on some difficult
points of discussion, the philosopher studied to express himself
*On the subject of comedy, Aristotle has been extremely brief in his instructions. He has remarked, in general, that. similar rules apply to a comic
as to a serious subject, meaning that what he has said regarding the unities of
time, place, and subject, and likewise the congruity of the.sentiments and
manners, have the same application in the one species of the drama as in the
otlier.  The Poetics of Aristotle, however, reo owideatly ga impsfeioted wosl:
of which a considerable part has perished.




teL'~X~3        FTHE PYRRHONISTS~                     277
with obs.curity: and hence Diogenes Laertius has compared himself to tile cuttle-fsh, which darkens the water around it to escape
fromrn danger.  But Aristotle, wherever he is intelligible, discovers
ample proof of a great, original, and comprehensive genius.
While Aristotle was e-nploved in rearing the structure of the
peripatetic philosophy; Pyirho, his contemporary, was busy in
combatint -the opinions of all the different sects of philosopherso*
It was his notion that the only true wisdom consisted in doubting
of every tliing.  Endowed with penetration enough to discover
the insufficiency of many of the prevailing systems, and clearly
perceiving the inadequacy of the human understanding to resolve
the most important questions both in the sciences of matter and of
mind, it was his desire to expose the futility of all the laborious
exertions of his predecessors in the search of truth, and to find a
plhilosophic tranquillity of spirit in the belief that all was doubt and
uncertainty.
The Pyrrthonists, or skeptics, therefore, formed no systems:
they amused  thenselves' in attacking the weak parts of other
schemes of philosophy, and they had nothing to defend of their
own.  They found great advantage in the sophistical mode of
reasoning, whicl they could fairly employ against those who used
it, and which they could successtilly expose when used against
themselves.  It was not unnatural that the skeptics should conclude from  the irreconcilable differences of opinion that prevailed
among various sects of philosophers, that among so many opposite
systems the greater part had taught error instead of truth; but
it was a rash conclusion thence to infer that truth had no existence,
or that certainty on any subject of philosophical. speculation was
altogether unattainable.  The skeptic, or Pyrrhonist, involuntarily
refuted his own opinions by his practice; for though he held, in
theory,'that there was no reality in moral distinctions, and that
truth. and falsehood, virtue and vice, beauty and deformity, had no
real or essential difference, his actions and conduct in life were
like those of other mnen, perpetually influenced and regulated by
the belief of these essential differences.  Thus the ridicule which he
affected to throwv upon other systems could be retorted with greater
force upon his own; for that man is evidently less chargeable with
absurdity who pursues a line of conduct which he believes to be
right, than he who follows a line of conduct in absolute doubt
whether it be right or wrong.
As the attainment of a perfect tranquillity of mind was the professed object of the Pyrrhonists, the opposite and rival sects of the
Stoics and Epicureans proposed the same end in their systems of
* Pyrrho was a native of Elea, and born in the fourth century before Christ;
he was a disciple of Anaxarchus, and accompanied that philosopher to -India, in
the expedition of Alexander the Great




278                   UNIVERSAL HISTORYo              loOK ir
philosophy., 7We have seen that the course pursued by the skeptics was a very imp oper one to attain its end, since it is obvious that
there can be no mental tranquillity where the reason and the feelings
are in constant opposition.  The Stoics cherished, if not a more
certain, yet a far more consistent, and doubtless a more dignified
system of sentiments and conduct.  They strove to attain philosophic tranquillity by an absolute command and sovereignty over
the passions, and a perfect indifference to all the accidents and
calamities of life.  The founder of this sect, which is among the
niost distinguished schools of philosophy, was Zeno the younger,
a native of Cyprus, who flourished in the third century before
Christ.  He was a di4ciple of Crates the Cynic; and on that
system of philosophy he founded his own, which may be considered'as an offspring of the Cynical school. The Stoical doctrines
have had a very extensive prevalence and duration; and though
in some particulars palpably erroneous, may be accounted, on the
whole, more consonant to right reason, and more favorable to the
practice of virtue, than those of any other sect of the philosophy
of the ancients.
According to the Stoics, the whole universe, and God himself,
the creator and soul of that universe,'are regulated by certain
laws, which are immutable and resulting from  necessity.  The
actions of God himself are regulated by those general laws; yet
in one sense they may be'considered as free and voluntary, viz.:
that as there is nothing external of the universe which God pervades, and which his soul regulates, there is nothing external of
himself which can impel or necessitate him.  Man,, according to
the notions of the Stoics, is a part of the divinity.  The human
soul is a portion of that great soul which pervades the universe.
The will of man is subject, like the divine will, to unalterable
laws; yet it is virtually free, because man believes himself a free
agent, and his conduct is influenced by that belief.  He obeys
voluntarily and from inclination that destiny which he must have
obeyed ab ante, though he had not inclined it.  Man being a part
of the universe which is regulated by God, cannot complain that
he.is bound by the same laws which regulate and bind universal
nature, and even God himself.  The wise man, therefore, never
considers what is. good or evil with respect to himself.  Whatever
happened to him must necessarily have happened according to the
order of nature; because had it not been necessary, it would not
have happened.  The pains and pleasures of an individual are,
therefore, unworthy of the regard of hinm  who attends to the lniversal good: his pains and pleasures are determined by the same
law which determined his existence.  He cannot repine that be
exists, for at whom shall he repine?  He existed by the necessity
of nature.  Virtue, in the opinion of a Stoic, was noth!ing more
than a manly resolution to accommodate the unalterable laws of
nature.  Vice was a weak and dastardly endeavor to oppose




CiH. IX.1            THE STOICS-EPICURUS.                    279
those laws.  Vice therefore was folly, and virtue the only true
wisdom.
But the virtue of the Stoics was not a principle of tranquil and
passive acquiescence; it was a state of continual, active, and vigorous exertion.  It was the duty of man to exercise the faculties
of his mind in acquainting himself with the nature, the causes, and
the relations of every part of that universe which he sees around
him, that he may truly understand his own place in it, and the duties
which he is destined and called on to fulfil.  It is incumbent on
man likewise to exercise his faculties in the discerning and distinguishing those things over which he has the power and control,
and those which are beyond his power, and therefore ought not to
be the objects of his care or his attention.  All things whatever,
according to the Stoics, fall.under one or the other of these descriptions.  To the class of things within our power belong our
opinions, our desires, affections, endeavors, aversions, and, in a
word, whatever may be termed our own works.  To the class of
things beyond our power belong the bQdy of man, his goods or
possessions, honors, dignities, offices, and generally what cannot be
termed his own works.  The former class of things are free, voluntary, and altogether at our command.  The latter are in all
respects the contrary; we cannot call them our own, nor in any
shape control them.  To the former, therefore, alone the wise
man directs his care, and by a due attention to them his happiness
is in his own power.  The latter he despises, as incapable of affecting his real welfare, and in no degree obedient to his will.
As the Stoics believed the universe to be the work of an allpowerful, all-wise, and supremely beneficent' Being, whose providence continually regulates the whole of that system  of which
every part is so combined as to produce the greatest possible sum
of general good; so they regarded man as a principal instrument
in the hand of God to accomplish that great purpose. The
Creator, therefore, with transcendent wisdom, had so framed the
moral constitution of man, that he finds his own chief happiness
in promoting the welfare and happiness of his fellow creatures.
" In the free consent of man to fulfil this end of his being, by
accommodating his mind to the divine will, and thus endeavoring
to discharge his part in society with cheerful zeal, with perfect
integrity, with manly resolution, and with an entire resignation to
the decrees of Providence, lies the sum and essence of his- duty."
Very different from this was the philosophy of Epicurus, which,
however, proposed to itself the same end - the attainment of a
perfect tranquillity of mind.  The term  by which he marked the
object of his philosophy, contributed much to increase the number
of his disciples.  "I The supreme happiness of man," said Epicurus, "' consists in pleasure.  To this centre tend all his desires,
and this, however disguised, is the real object of all his actions.
The purpose of philosophy is to teach whatever best conduces




980                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [B3OOK  H
to the health of the body and of the mind; for where either is
unsound or diseased, he can enjoy no true happiness or pleasure.
As the health of the body is best secured  by temperance, and
the refraining firom all hurtful gratifications of the Senses, so tile
health of the mind is best promoted by the practice of virtue, antl
the exercise of the benevolent and social affections."  Thus, the
term pleasure, as explained by Epicurus, involves nothing unworthy of the pursuit.of the good and virtuous.  Epicurus himself is
said to have been a man of worth and probity, and it is a certaiia
fact that some of the most virtuous of the ancients were the professed disciples of his system.  But that the principle of his philosophy is unsound, needs no other proof than this; that if pleasure
is admitted to be man's chief object of pursuit, every man must be
allowed to be the best judge of what constitutes his pleature, and
will determine, according to his own feelings, from  what soulrces
it is to be drawn.  The practice of temperance might have been
the pleasure of Epicurus; and we are told that it Nwas so, and
that his favorite diet, and what hle usually presented to his guests,
was bread and water.  But it is the chief pleasure of others to be
intemperate and voluptuous.  It might have been the chief pleasure of Epicurus to be honest and just in his dealings, but others
find pleasure in fraud and chicane.  In short, there is no vice or
crime that might not find an apology, or rather a recommendation.
Had it not afforded pleasure it would not have been practised'or
committed.  " If it is allowable for me," we shall suppose  the
disciple of Epicurus to say to his master'-"If it is allowable for
me to pursue pleasure as my chief object, it is, of consequence,
allowable for rne to be vicious, if I find pleasure in it."   " But
you are punished," says Epicurus, "G in the consequence; and you
will find vice productive of pain instead of pleasure.''   "1Of that,"
says the disciple, "I take,my risk; I look to the consequenee,
and I find it overbalanced  by my present gratification:   I find
pleasure in this action, notwithstanding the hazard of its consequence: it is therefore allowable for me to commit it."  Epic urns
must grant that the conclusion is fair and legitimate.
Equally erroneous with his system  of morality, was Epicurls's
system of nature.  An infinite number of atoms existing from  all
eternity in an infinite space, and continually in motion, were the
elements of that matter of which the universe is composed; bLut
this universe, thus composed of atomical or indivisible parts, has
subsisted in its present form from all eternity; and ever will subsist.  It is, therefore, of necessary existence, and'we have no need
to resort to the power of a Creator to account for its origin, or to
the-wisdom of a Deity for its maintenance and government.  But
though the notion of a Deity did not enter into the system of Epicurus, to any active effect, he did not deny that the gods might
exist.  He professed even to teach that an order of eternal essences, clothed with a species of body, and endce..d with senses




CH. IX.J                GREEK PHILOSOPHY.                      281
for the perception of pleasure, resided in some superior region of the
universe, where they enjoyed a serene and infinitely happy existence, unalloyed by any knowledge or perception of the affairs of
this material world, and undisturbed by any care or concern for
its inhabitants.  A religious creed, which, as Cicero well observes,
is but a mask for absolute atheism, and wxhich its author could
have no other reason for propolnding, than the servile fear of
incurring danger from the open avowal of impiety.*
From the foregoing brief account of the different sects or schools
of philosophy in Greece, I shall draw  only two teflections: The
one is, that with a very few exceptions, and more particularly that
of tile sect last mentioned, amidst all the errors incident to the
mind unenlightened by revealed religion, the reason of mankind
has, in all ages, looked up to a supreme, intelligent, and omnil)otent Being-the Author of our existence-the Creator and the
Governor of the universe: a belief which forces itself upon the most
uncultivated understanding, and which the. advancement of the intellectual powers tends always to strengthen and confirm.   The
other reflection is, that, from the great variety and opposition of
those systems which we have enumerated of the Greek philosophers,
we may perceive among that people a liberal spirit of toleration in
matters of opinion, which stopped short at absolute irreligion and
impiety; and a freedom of judgment in all matters of philosophical
speculation, which did honor to their national character, and tile
genius of their legislative systems.  If the Greek philosophers did
not attain to truth, or to the perfection of science, they had, at least,
the road open before them; and their errors may afford useful instruction to the moderns, by ascertaining the limits of the mental
powers on matters of abstract speculation, by dispelling prejudices,
simplify-ing the objects of investigation and discovery, and bringilng
the rational and candid inquirer nearer to the ends of his pursuit.
Cic. de A:at. Deor. lib. i. in fine.
VOL. I.               SG




BOOK TIlE THIRD.
CHAPTER 1.
T1[rE ROMTAN HISTORY-Earliest Periods of the Hlistory of Rome-Etruscan.Foundation of ornme —Disputed accounts of-Romulus-Rape of the SabinesOrigin of the Political lnstituti,,ns of the Romans-Union with the Sabines —
Numa - His Institutions - Tullus Ilostilius - Ancus Martius - Tarquinius
t'riscusi
OF the precise era when the country of Italy was peopled, we
have no certain accounts, nol' any thing beyond probable conjecture.   There seem, however, good grounds to believe that this
penirsula, enjoying great advantages of situation, soil, and crimate,
was very early a populous country, and inhabited in one quarter
even by a refilled and polished nation, many ages before the Roman
name was known.   This people was known by the appellation
of -Ltrurians or Etruscans, though their more ancient designation
is saAd to have been Tyrrheni, from the name of a Lydian prince
vw-.o brought with him a colony of his countrymen fromt the lesser
Asia, and planted that part of Italy afterwards called Etruria.  Of
the early history of this people there remain but a few detached
and obscure traces to be found in the ancient authors; but there is
reason to believe that, like all other colonies, their progress to
ci vi ization was much more rapid than that of an aboriginal people,
and that the Etruscans were inma very advanced state of improvement in manners and the arts, while the surrounding nations or
tribes in the centre of Italy were yet extremely barbarous.  The
Roman  historians acknowledge this fact.  Livy  speaks of the
Etruscans as a great and opulent people in Italy, powerfiul both at
land and sea, before the origin of the Roman state.  Dionysius of
Ilalicarnassus deduces most of the religious institutions of the
Rorrans fi'ron Etruria.  Augury and divination, which were essential ingredients in most of their ceremonies and mysteries, were
certainly derived firom  that country, as probably were the first
dawnings of Roman science and literature.  Tilhe religion of the
Etruscans was polytheism, and many of their deities were comrn



CH. I.]                   THE ROMANS.                         283
mon to them with the Greeks, as those of the latter with the
divinities of tlhe Phoenicians and other Asiatic nations.'The RToman theogony can easily be traced to those origins.  The Cabirian
mysteries of the Ro nans, the Mithriac and Acherontic ceremonies,
were all immediately derived fiom Etruria.  The Etruscan alphabet, nearly that of the Phoenicians, was likewise used by the
Romans in the early ages of their state.  The gradual change fiom
this ancient alphabet to the characters used by the Romans in the
latter periods, may be distinctly traced by the series of inscriptions
yet remaining.
The ancient Etrurians are celebrated for their knowledge of
astronomy, which countenances the notion of their Asiatic origin.
They had successfully cultivated  poetry and music.   Scenical
representations were in great repute among them; arid the first
comedians who appeared at Rome were brought from that country,
on occasion of a pestilence, either from a superstitious idea of
appeasing the wrath of the gods, or the humbler, though not less
rational motive of supporting the spirits of the people under the
general calamity.
It is probable the Etruscans had made great progress in tne
fine arts of sculpture and painting, and the practice of these arts
presupposes a very high state of civilization.  The elegance of the
Etruscan vases, and the beautiful painting which decorates them,
are subjects of just admiration and of zealous imitation by the
moderns.  Of this art, the fabric of pottery, the ancient authors
agree in attributing the invention to this people,* and none other
appears ever to have carried it to so high a pitch of perfection.
Architecture, engraving of precious stones, sculpture, and painting,
were of high antiquity among the Etruscans at the time when the
Greeks were comparatively in a state of barbarism.  The Etruscans were a declining people at the time of the foundation of
Rome, though possessing many relicks of their ancient grandeur,
both in their knowledge of the arts and in their manners.  The
Romans were mere barbarians; but they had the good sense to
copy after and adopt many improvements from  their polished
neignbors.
Thle country of Etruria, as we learn from Dionysius, was divided
into twelve districts, each of which was ruled by a separate chief,
calleid in the Etruscan language. Lucurmo.   Of these lucumones
we find frequent mention in Livy.  Each bad a sovereign jutrisdiction in his province; but the whole were united in a confederacy,
and held a general diet or council on all occasions in which the
common interest was concerned.  To  give greater efficacy to
*Tatianus, in his oratinn to the Greeks, in which he reproaches them with
their vanity in attributing to themselves the, invention of all arts, affirlns positively that the Etruscans taught them the art of pottery; Clemens Alexandrinus
makes the same assertion.




284                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                  [BOOK III.
this union, it appears that, at least in time of wvar, the whole nation
obeyed a commlon chief, who was elected probably by the whole
of the lucumos.  Livy informs us that no single state could engage
in war or conclude peace without the consent of the whole Etruscan body. The principal towns of Etruria were Volscinii, Clusium,
Cortona, Perusia, Falerii, Tarquinii, and Veii.  These. with several others mentioned by Dionysius, were populous and flourishing
states before the common era of the foundation of Rome.*
This polished people, inhabiting  the c.entre of Italy, was surrounded by a great number of petty nations, who seem to have
been in a state little removed from  barbarism.  The Umbrians,
the Ligurians, the Sabines, the Picentes, the Latins, appear at the
time of the supposed foundation of the Roman state to have been
a set of independent tribes, who were engaged in constant hostilities with each other.   The territory called Latiumn extended in
length about fifty miles, and in breadth about sixteen.  It contained no less than forty-seven independent communities.   The
other adjacent provinces were divided  in the same  manner-a
state of society in which constant warfare is unavoidable; a warfare, however, of which conquest or extension of power is not thile
object, but which arites merely from  the spirit of plunder and
depredation.  Their enterprises, therefore, were limited to ravaging
the fields., carryi.ng off the flocks and herds, destroying the harvest
of their neighbors, or such like rude and barbarous achievemnents.
The desire of conquest has no place in such a state of society;for a victory can never be pursued or the conquered territory preserved: as the whole community is obliged  to be active for its
subsistence, and agriculture is of course suspended while the nation
is at war, the soldier must quit his arms for the plough and spade,
for a lengthened campaign would produce a famine.  It is only
where acquired wealth and increased population can afford regular
armies of professional soldiers, that conquests can be prosecuted
and  maintained.   The Etruscans seem  to have  enjoyed  these
advantages over all the barbarous nations around them, and consequently they were in a capacity to have subdued the whole of
*The Etruscans were, like their Phoenician ancestors, a maritime and mer.
cantile people.  Hence the fable invented by the Greeks, and sung by' Ovid,
that the Tvrrhenians were turned into dolphins. They colonized all along th
coast of Italy, and built many large towns, during the splendid period of their
history. But this was of short continuance. A dreadful pestilence and famine,
as Dionvsius informs us, (lib. i. c. 15, 16,) desolated their country about the
ptriod of the Trojan war. These ca'lamities were recorded in a poem found
on certain tablets of brass, called the Eugubine Tables, which were discovered
A. D. 1444, in a subterraneous vault near the ancient theatre of Ignvium  or
Enrubiium, now Gubbio, a city of Umbria. Thei poem is written in Pelasgian
characters.  This lamentation, with an interpretation by M. Gori, may be
found in " Sir William Hamilton's Etruscan Antiquities;" and it is inferred
from various circumstances to be'247 years more ancient than the works of
Hesiod.




CH. I.]      THE ETRUSCANS-ORIGIN OF THE ROMANS              285
them; but their genius was not warlike: they were fond of and
cultivated the arts of peace; and though occasionally enngaed in
hostilities with the Rornans, they appear never to have, armed but
when attacked.
The gradual increase of population among a warlike tribe may
enable them  to preserve their conquests, either by garrisoning, or
by transplanting a part of the conquered inhabitants into the capital, and, replacing them  by a colony of citizens.  This we shall
see was afterwards the policy of the Riomans, and thus by degrees
they extended their territory and increased  their power.  But
sometimes a flourishing people is compelled to colonize, from  an
overgrowth of its population.'Dionysiusof Halicarnassus informs
us of the manner in which a state, when it became overstocked,
transplanted itsmcolonies.  They consecrated to a particular god
all the youth of a certain age, furnished them  with arms, and after
the p)erformance of a solemn sacrifice, dismissed thein to conquer
for themselves a new country.  These enterprises were, no doubt,
often unsuccessful; but when they succeeded, ard an establishment was obtained, it does not appear that the mother state pretended to have any rights over them, or claims upon the country
where they settled.
The origin of the Roman state is involved in great obscurity,
and various accounts are given of the foundation of that illustriouis
city, which differ not only as to the time of its structure, but in all
circumstances concerning it.  To reconcile in some degree these
discrepancies, it is the notion of Dionysiuls of Halicarnassus, that
there were at different periods several cities which bore the name
of Rome; that the Rome founded some time after the Trojan
war, was destroyed, and another built in the first year of- the
seventh Olympiad, that is, 752 B. c.; nay, he pretends to find
evidence even of a more ancient Rome than either of these, but
in what situation or period of time he does not determine. Whoever wishes to see all the different accounts of this matter, and to
be convinced how little certainty there is in any one of them., may
consult the learned dissertations of M. Pouilly and of the Abbe
Sallier, in the sixth volume of the 3M6moires de 1'acadernie des
Inscriptions.  The vulgar and generally received account of the
foundation of Rome by Romulus is not upon the whole entitled to
any degree of credit superior to the rest; but as it was commonly
adopted by the Romans themselves, and has passed current down
to modern times, it is proper to be acquainted with it, whatever
doubt we may entertain of its authenticity.
Rome, according to the chronology of Archbishop Usher, was
founded 752 years before the Christian era.  Romulus, at the
head of a troop of shepherds, his followers, is said to have built
a few huts upon the Palatine Hill, in a part of the territory of
Allba; but as itis not very probable that shepherds should assemble to the number of 3000, it is natural to suppose them to- have




286                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY,                 [BOOK III
been banditti or freebooters, accustomed to wander and to ravage;
and the increase of their numbers, while it furnislled the means,
probably suggested the idea, of occupying and fortifying an inclosed
territory for themselves.  To strengthen the new comnmunity, and
to fill the space which they had marked  out for their city, their
chief proclaimed an asylumrn for all such fugitives and deserters
fromn  the neighboring states as chose to put themselves under his
protection, and acknowledge his authority.
Hitherto, this new association consisted solely of men; it was
necessary  they should  provide  themselves with  women.  The
story of the rape of the Sabines has Inuch the air of romance;
though it derives a degree of credit from the festival of the Consualia, instituted in honor of the god Constus, the protector of
plots; a solemnity which was always believed at-Rome to have
commemorated  that exploit.  Romulus proclaimed  a great festival and games in honor of Neptune, to which he invited all the
neighboring states.  The Sabines,* Cecinians, Crustuminians, and
Antemnnates, came thither in great troops.  The plan was concerted, and at a certain signal, a chosen band rushed in and carried
off a great number of the women.  The Sabines, and the nations
in  their alliance, prepared  immediately to avenge this outrage;
and the infant commonwealth of Rome was, almost at the moment
of its formation, at war with all its neighbors.
The Roman historians, to flatter the vanity of their countrymen, have been extremely lavish of encornium  on the lhigh character of Romulus, whom  they paint with all the qualities of a
consumrnrate politician and legislator.  But if even the Greeks, at
this time with far greater advantages, were extremely rude and
uncivilized, what ideas can we form  of the people of Latium, and
their knowledge of the arts of government and legislation?  There
is certainly very little probability that a troop of banditti should all
at once assume the form of a regular political structure, or that a
great legislator should appear in the person of a freebooter, or of
a shepherd, at the age of eighteen.  The sounder opinion certainly seems to be, that those wise and politic laws and institutions, commonly ascribed to Romulus, arose gradually from ancient
usages and a state of manners prevalent in Italy before the foundation of Rome.
If, however, we can suppose,Romulus to have been in fact the
founder of this new kingdom, its constitution would certainly prove
that he had wise and politic views.  He knew, in the first place,
* The Sabines were an ancient people of Italy, situated between Etruria and
I.ntiurn. Their capital was Cures, in the territory now called Corezze. The
inhabitants of Cecina, Crustuminium., and Jntemne, were probably either sub.
iects or allies of the Sabine state. From Cures, the capital city of the Sabines,
the Romnans, after their union with that people, took the appellation of Curites or
Auirites



CiH. I.]                    ROM1IULUS.                       287
the character and temperament of the people he governed, and
was well aware that their rude and ferocious spirit would not brook
the unlimited authority of a despot.  It was therefore a judicious
plain to admit the people to a share in the government.
He divided the llass of population into\three tribes, and each
tribe into ten curi3e.  Of the lands belonging to the state, lihe
formed three great portions: one appropriated to the support of
religion, which is an essential instrument of good government;
another destined for the public service of the state; and the third
he distributed equally among the thirty curiae, so that each Roman
citizen should have two acres of land.  He formed a senate or
council, composed of a hundred of the elders, to whom  he gave
power to see the laws enforced, to-consult concerning all affairs of
state, and to report their opinion to the people in the comitia or
assemblies, who were invested with the right of final determination
in all matters of public importance.
From these first senators (centum patres) chosen by Romulus,
were descended those families at Rome termed patrician; so that
in a very little time a great distinction of rank arose from birth
among the Romans.
It has indeed been supposed by Dionysius, that the xdistinction
of patricians and plebeians was anterior to the formation of the
senate, and that the one title was given to the richer, and the
other to the poorer class of citizens. But whence can we suppose
this inequality of wvealth to have arisen, when the same author
admits that there was an equal distribution among the whole
citizens of those lands, in which alone their wealth could consist?
Although Romulus gave great weight to the scale of the people in the firaming of this new  government, yet he reserved to
himself, as head of the community, very ample powers. The
deliberations and decrees of the set.ate guided the resolutions of
the people, and the king had the pc wyer of naming all the senators.
He had likewise the privilege o, assembling the people, and a
right of appeal lay to him in all questions of importance.  He had
the command of the army, which at first comprehended the whole
holy of the people.  He was chief priest, too, or pontifex maxiMnws, and regulated every thing that concerned or was even
remotely connected with religion; and, with a very wise policy,
lie took care that all that regarded the rule and economy of the
state was so connected.
Romulus chose for the guard of his person twelve lictors, to
whom he afterwards joined a troop of 300 horsemen, named celeres.
This was the origin of the equites, or Roman knights, who became the second rank in the state after the patricians.  From the
three tribes into which he divided the people, Romulus selected
firom each trloe a hundred of the -handsomest of the youth, of
whom he formed three companies of cavalry.  This body of the




288                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK 1II
eqtuites was augmented by. Tarquinius Priscus to 1800; and in
that distribuhtion of the citizens which we shall afterwards see was
made by Servius Tullius, these eighteen centuries were placed in
the first class.  These equites were at first chosen by the kings
alone, as being the royal life-guards; and at the end of the regal
government, being now a rank in the state, the consuls, who succeeded to almost the whole of the regal. power, filled up the order
of equites as they did that of the senate.  In succeeding times,
when the consuls became too much engrossed in military, concerns,
the fiunction of supplying both those orders devolved on the censors, of whose office I shall speak more particularly when arrived
at that period when those magistrates were first instituted.  The
marks of distinction peculiar to the order of knights were a horse
maintained at the public expense, a ring of gold, and a garment
with a narrow border of purple, called angustus clavus, in distinction from  the latus clavus of the senators, which had a broader
border of purple.  It was reckoned a great indecorum for a knight
to appear in public without his proper badges.  The duties and
finctions of the equites were various in different periods of the
republic: they were at first only a military order, and formed the
cavalry of the Roman legions; afterwards, in the time of the
gracchi, we find them  a class of civil judges, and no longer a
military order.  Sylla again, in his arrangement of the republic,
deprived the equites of their judicial tribunals, and they became
the financiers-general of the revenues of the state.
If many of those institutions we have mentioned owed their
origin to the political talents of Romulus, several of them  plainly
appear to have a strong conformity with the general usages of barbarous nations; and others, which argue a more refined policy,
were borrowed, in all probability,. from  the Etruscans: such in
particular were those connected with religion.
The religion of ancient Italy was probably near akin to that of
the Greeks; though Dionysius tells us that the early religious
institutions of the Romans were not contaminated with those fables
which disgraced the Greek theogony.  The most scrupulous observance of omens and presages seems to have been the chief
foundation of their sacred rites, and in this superstition they went
far bevond the Greeks.  Now divination we know with some certainty to have been adopted by the Romans from the Etruscans.
Among that people every thing was construed into a presage;
not only the'extraordinary phenomena of nature, as thunder,
lightning, the aurora borealis, or the like, but the most insignificant actions or accidents, such as sneezing, meeting with an animal,
slipping a foot, or any of the most common occurrences of life.
Among an ignorant and rude nation every thing is attributed to a
supernatural agency; but the Etrurians were not a rude nation,
and therefore we can assign this natural propensity only to their
love of those national habits which they had derived fiomn a remote




cue..]                    AUGURS.                         289
antiquity. To a superstitious people, when presages do not offer
of themselves, it is a very natural step to go and seek them.  The
sacrifice of victims presented often different appearances, according to the accidental state of the animal at the time it was killed.
The priests employed in the sacrifice, being best acquainted with
those appearances, are naturally consulted as to their interpretation.  Thus they acquire the reputation of superior wisdom  and
foresight, and the augur and aruspex become an established profession. Where a society is once formed, it becomes interested
to support itself; the trade is found lucrative, and the science of
course is studiously made intricate and obscure, to exclude the
attempts of uninitiated pretenders.
As bad omens presented themselves frequently as well as good,
it became a desirable object of science to know how to avert the
effect of the latter, and to convert them  into presages of good
fortune.  The augurs pretended that they possessed this valuable
secret, which gave them still greater influence over the minds of
the people.  This effect they produced by expiations, which thus
became an essential branch of religious ceremonies.  Gradually,
as the art advanced, a particular set of ceremonies was appropriated to particular occasions.  Thus, for example, at the foundation of a city, the priests and all employed in the ceremony first
]purified themselves by leaping over a fire.  Then they made a
circular excavation, into which they threw the first fruits of the
season, and some handfulls of earth brought from the native city
by the founders.  The entrails of victims were next consulted,
and if favorable, they proceeded to trace the limits of the town
with a line of chalk.  This track they then marked by a furrow,
with a plough drawn by a white bull and heifer.  It was not
anciently the custom  to surround the city with walls, but the
limits were defended by towers, placed at regular intervals.  In
after times, however, the practice became common of fortifying
the city by a wall.  The ceremony was concluded by a great
sacrifice to the tutelar gods of the city, who were solemnly
invoked.  These gods were termed Patrii and Indigetes, but
their particular names were concealed with the most anxious
caution from the knowledge of the people.  It was a very prevalent superstitious belief that no city could be taken or destroyed
till its tutelar gods abandoned it.  Hence it was the first care of a
besieging enemy to evoke the gods of the city or entice them  out
by ceremonies, by promising them superior temples and festivals,
and a more respectful worship than they had hitherto enjoyed;
but in order to accomplish this evocation, it was necessary to learn
the particular names of the deities, which every people therefore
was interested to keep secret.
As all the superstitions we have mentioned were common to the
nations of Italy before the building of Rome, it was extremely
natural that they should be adopted as part of its theology.
VOL. 1.                 37




290                    UNIVLRSAL HISTORY.            [BOOK III,
In treating formerly of the Spartan constitution, I have remarked the error of those theories which attempt to trace all political
institutions whatever up to the manners of a savage state; or the
belief that all forms of government, and, by the same rule, all the
revolutions of those governments, are the result of the natural progress of mankind in society. The most limited knowledge of
history gives us certain proof of many political systems being the
operation of the genius of individual lawgivers.  If we doubt as
to the institutions of Lycurgus, of Charlemagne, or of Alfred,
being as perfect as history has painted them, skepticism  itself cannot refuse the instances of William  Penn and of Peter the Great,
any more than those stupendous experiments in government and
legislation which our own age has witnessed.
But as to Romulus, we readily allow that the great outlines of
his constitution have their model in the manners and usages of a
semi-barbarous people.  The patria potestas of the Romans, or
the sovereign power which every father of a family enjoyed over
his household, may be plainly traced up to the manners of barbarians.  So likewise many of the early laws of the Romans were
the necessary result of their situation.  Such, for example, was
that law which confined the practice of all mechanic arts to the
slaves.; for all the free citizens must either have been employed
in warfare or in the culture of their fields.
But other institutions bear the stamp of political knowledge
and enlargement of ideas.  Such, for instance, is the Clientela, or
the connection of patrons and clients.  To maintain a just subordination, and at the same time a mutual good understanding between
the patrician order and the plebeians, every plebeian was allowed
to choose a senator for his patron, whose duty it was to defend and
protect him; and he in his turn received from his clients, not only
homage, but support and assistance in all cases where his interest
required it.
Notwithstaneing the excellency of this political arrangement,
the enemies which the infant state of Rome had raised up among
the neighboring nations of Italy would have been too powerful
for her, if they had followed any united plan or general measures.
The rape of the Sabine women had exasperated all around them;
but as each nation, instead of uniting, attempted to pursue a separate plan of revenge, they were all successively defeated.  The
town of Cennina was destroyed, and its inhabitants transplanted
to Rome.  The Crustumenians, in like manner, contributed to
increase the victorious city; though Romulus chose likewise to
preserve their own city, and to establish a colony in it, thus gaining a double advantage. The Sabine nation was the most formidable of their enemies.  In one successful assault upon the city,
they had penetrated as far as the Tarpeian hill, and a most obstinate conflict was maintained in the very heart of Rome, when
the Sabine women, the cause of the war, threw themselves in be




n. ]'A                s ATXiUS-~ROMXLUS.                    291
tween the contending parties, and became the mediators between
their husbands, and their fathers and brethren.  Their influence
prevailed; a peace was concluded, and the two nations agreed
henceforth to become one people.* Tatius, king of the Sabines,
was associated with Romulus in the government: a most wise
and politic m'easure, which relieved Rome at once of her most for-.
midable enemy, and greatly increased her strength and population.
Thus, in a very few years from the period of her foundation, Rome
was able to make head against the most powerful of the nations of
Italy.
Tatius did not long enjoy his dignity.  He was killed a few
years afterwards at Lavinium, and lRomulus remained sole monarcli of the united people.  He made war against the Veientes
with success, and subdued several of the states of Latium: but
having disobliged his soldiers inl the distribution of the conquered
lands, and some of the principal senators becoming jealous of his
power, a conspiracy was formed against himn  and he fell a victim
to treason, in the thirty-seventh year of his reign.  A  violent
storm of thunder happening at the time, favored the report spread
by the conspirators, that he was killed by lightning; and the people, who revered his memory, enrolled him among the number of
their deities, by the title of Quirinus.t
As Romulus left no children, the people judged the crown
elective, and the question was whom  to choose.  The Sabines
claimed an equal right with the Romans; and, there being much
discordance of opinion, the senate, which was composed equally
of both nations, laid claim to the sovereignty, and dividing themselves into Decurine, it was agreed that each decuria should reign
fifty days, or each senator five days,-an arrangement which it
was easy to see could not be permanent.  The people submitted
to it for a year, but at the end of that period declared their resolution to Ihave a sovereign for life.  It was agreed that the senators
of the Roman party should have the right of electing, but that
the choice should fall upon a Sabine.  Numa, the son-in-law of
Tatius, a man of a recluse and reserved disposition, but of great
reputation for wisdom and probity, was chosen king; and after a
solemn consultation of the gods by the augurs and aruspices, was
)publicly invested with the regal insignia and authority.
Dionysius of Halicarnassus has represented Numa as a wise
and most intelligent prince: others have disputed that character,
on this extraordinary ground, that when the books of Numa were
* In honor of this event, a solemn annual festival was held at Rome on the
first day of March, called.Matronalia. It is to this solemnity that Horace
alludes in his ode, Mcrtiis cwlebs quid agam Calendis, &c.
f Contemporary with Romulus was Hezekiah, the tenth king of Judah;
and Salrnanazar, who took Samaria, and put an end to the kingdom of Israel,
by carrying the ten tribes into captivity.




292                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY               [BOOK III
accidentally discovered at Rome, after a lapse of six centuries, the
senate ordered them to be destroyed, as containing nothing which,
in their judgment, could be useful, and much that might be of
prejudice to the state.  But this fact certainly warrants no infer~
ence unfavorable to the character or to the talents of Nurna.  The
political views and regulations of that prince might be extremely
wise, and well adapted to the age in which he lived, and at the
same time quite unsuitable to the spirit of the Roman constitution
six centuries after him.
Numa was of a pacific turn, and he seems to have aimed at giv
ingo his people the same character.  It may be doubted whether
this policy were altogether wise in the situation in which the Roe
mans stood with respect to their neighbors.  The king pretended
to enjoy a divine inspiration, and feigned that he was indulged in
nightly conferences with the nymph Egeria, who dictated all those
public measures which he proposed.  He multiplied the national
gods, built new temples, and instituted a great variety of religious
ceremonies, of the most remarkable of which it is necessary, for
the proper intelligence of the Roman history, that some short
account should here be given.
A  custom  then prevailed in Italy, by which every state, before
going to war, was in use to determine whether the cause of the
war were just or unjust. When a quarrel arose between one state
and another, certain heralds, named Feciales, were despatched by
the state which deemed itself injured to the aggressor, who publicly proclaimed the cause of offence, and demanded reparation of
the injury.  If the aggressor hesitated, ten days were allowed for
deliberation, and that term  was three times renewed.  If at the
end of that period justice was not done, the Feciales took the gods
to witness of the wrong committed, and returned to their own city.
War was then solemnly proclaimed, but was not commenced till
one of the Feciales walked to the frontier, and threw  a bloody
javelin as a signal.
This custom shows that the petty nations of Italy, barbarous as
they were, had just notions of the blessings of a pacific govern.
ment.  Numa adopted the custom, and instituted at Rome a college of Feciales.  He built, likewise, a temple to Janus, which
was kept open during war, and shut during peace.  Most of the
institutions of this prince were calculated to encourage the pacific
spirit; but this' was not the tendency of his people, and their
character soon became quite the reverse.  A great part of Numa's
policy consisted in using religion as an instrument of government.*
* Yet the religion of Numa, according to Plutarch's account, was of a
rational character, and quite remote from the superstitions of the vulgar. " Ile
forbade the Romans," says thatauthor, " to represent the Deity in the form of
man, or of any animal, nor was there any sculptured effigy of the gods admit
ted in those early times. During the first one hundred and sixty years, they




oH. 1-.] NUMA.                                                 293
He instituted a college of priests called Filamines, fiom the flamecolored tufts upon their caps."   Each flarnen was confined to the
worship of a particular god; and Romulus, now  deified, had his
flamen, as well as Jupiter and Mars.  A sacred buckler, or ancile,
which was said to have dropped from  heaven, gave occasion likewise to the foundation of a new  college of priests, who had the
charge of it, and paraded with it, on particular occasions, in a kind
of dance or procession.  These were called Salii (a saliendo):;
and, lest the sacred buckler should be stolen or lost, eleven others
were made, exactly resembling it, and deposited in the temple of
Jupiter.:
The veneration of fire was a.superstition common, as we have
seen, to several of the ancient nations.  The custom of preserving
this element continually burning was religiously observed among
the nations of Italy, as among their eastern progenitors.  Numa
found this custom among the people of Alba; and introducing it
among the Romans, he built a temple consecrated to Vesta, and
appointed four virgins to attend her worship and to preserve the
sacred fire. They took a vow of perpetual virginity, and were
buried alive if they broke it.  A  punishment of this kind was extremely rare; but when it occurred it was a day of mourning to
all the citizens.  The ignoininy of the crime was thought to affect
all the relations of the criminal; and it was no wonder that, when
a new vestal came to be chosen, every father dreaded lest the
choice should fall upon his daughter.  On the other hand.' these
sacred virgins enjoyed very high privileges. They were superior
in sanctity of character to all the priests, and in some respects
even controlled the laws of their country.  A vestal could save a
criminal going to execution, provided she gave her word that she
had met him  only accidentally.  It was customary for individuals
to make large donations to vestals, from motives of piety, or to
leave them great legacies; and thus'they often accumulated much
wealth.
Numa is celebrated for a reformation of the Roman calendar,
wllich, it is said, made the year, before his time, consist only of
built temples and shrines, but made no images; judging it impious to represent
the most excellent of Beings by things base and unworthy, since there is no
access to the Divinity but by the mind, elevated and purified by divine contemplation."
* Plutarch supposes the word flamen a corruption of pilamen, from pileus, a
cap  There were at first only three Flamines, Flamen Dialis, JMartialis, and
Quirinalis.
t The Salii were originally twelve in number; but Tullus Hostilius, the
successor of Numa, added other twelve.  Those first instituted were called
Salli Palatini, from the Palatine Hill, where they began their processions: the
latter were termed Collini, or Agonenses, from the Collis Quirinalis, otherwise
called./1gonalis, where they had a chapel. Their endowments were great; and
their entertainments costly; whence the phrase Dapes Saliares is used by Horace
for delicate meats, lib. i. 0. 37,




294                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BoEK 1ni
ten months, of' various lengths; some of them, according to Plu1
tarch, consisting of twenty days, some of thirty-five, and s6me of
a greater number.  Numa added to the year the months of Janus
ary and February, assigning to each month the number of days of
which it consists at present.  February being the most deficient,
was always reckoned an unlucky month.  He distinguished likes
wise certain days as Fasti and Nefasti; on the former of which
it was lawful to follow all civil occupations, while nothing of that
sort was allowed on the latter except agriculture, which thence
seems most wisely to have been regarded in a religious point of
view.  From this distinction of Dies Fasti et Nefasti, the calendar itself took the name of Fasti, or annals.  It was the office of
the Pontifex Maximus to record in the Fasti the events of each
year.
Numa died after a reign of forty-three years, during the whole
of which time the temple of Janus remained shut; so much
does the disposition of a people depend on the character of a
sovereign. 
After a short interregnum, Tullus Hostilius was elected to the
throne by the people, and confirmed by the voice of the senate.
This prince, of a very opposite character from his predecessor, paid
little regard to his religious and pacific institutions.  The temple
of Janus was opened, and was not shut during his whole reign.
He was victorious over the Albani, Fidenates, and several of the
other'neighboring states.  In the war with the Albani happened
the celebrated combat between the three Horatii and Curiatii, in
wthich the issue of the contest was determined in favor of the
Romans, by the courage and policy of the surviving Horatius.
The victor, returning to Rome laden with the spoils of the vanlquished, was met by his sister, the destined spouse of one of the
Curiatii.  On seeing the spoils of her dead lover, she vented her
grief and indignation in such violent terms, that her brother put
her to death.  " Be gone," said he, " to thy lover, and carry
with thee that degenerate passion which makes.thee prefer a dead
enemy to the glory of thy country." The offender was brought
before the duumviri, two criminal judges appointed by Tullus,
and was by them condemned to death. By the advice of Tullus,
he appealed to the assembly of the people, who, in compassion to
the deliverer of his country, commuted his punishment to passing
under the yoke, and at the same time decreed him a trophy. This
incident shows one fact of importance, namely, that the power of
the people had at this time become paramount to that of the
prince, and that the government truly lay in the joint concurrence
of the regal authority with that of the several orders of the state.
* Contemporary with Numa, was Sennacherib, king of Assyria, and Esarhad
don, who united the kingdoms of Assyria and Babylon.




cOH. I.                ~ANCUS MARTIUS.                       295
Under the reign of Tullus, as we find the Romans at war with
the Sabines, it appears that the union of the two nations was by
this time dissolved; and, henceforward, we find the Sabines classed
among those of the neighboring states with whom  the Romans
carried on constant hostilities.
The neglect of religion during the reign of Tullus is said to have
excite'd the vengeance of the gods, who punished the Romans by
a severe pestilence.   The king himself was seized with it, and
became as pious as his predecessor; but his repentance was too
late, for he was killed by. thunder, or as some authors report, by a
fire in the city, after a reign of thirty-three years.
Ancus Martins, of Sabine extraction, was elected king in his
place.  He was, by his mother, grandson to Numa; and partook
somewhat of his disposition.   He bent all his attention to the
revival of the religious observances of his ancestor; but the Latins
obliged him  to take up arms.  The Romans were victorious, and
took several of the enemy's towns, transporting the inhabitants to
Rome, of which it became necessary to enlarge the bounds beyond
the Aventine Abount.   Ancus pushed his conquests along the
banks of the Tiber, to its mouth, where lie built the city and port
of Ostia.  He fortified a small eminence opposite to Rome, on
the western side of the Tiber, which was called Jcaniculurm, and
communicated with the city by a bridge, which the priests had
the charge of supporting and repairing; and thence they are said
to have derived their name of Pontifices.*
Ancus died after a reign of twenty-four years.   During his
time, Lucius Tarquinius, surnamed Priscus, a native of Tarquinii
in Etruria, and son of a rich citizen of Corinth, had come to
Rome.  He was a man of great address, and gained the favor
both of the king and people; so that when the throne became
vacant, he was chosen the successor of Ancus; a proof that the
throne was considered as elective; for Ancus Martius had left two
sons.
The senate, as first constituted by Romulus, consisted, as we
have seen, of one hundred members.  To this original number,
from  whom  alone the patrician  families claimed their descent,
Romulus afterwards added  another hundred.   Tarquinius, who
owed his election to the favor of some of the principal citizens,
rewarded their services by adding a hundred new members to the
senate, chosen from  the plebeian  order.t  It remained at the
number of 300 for several centuries, down to the period of the
U.Contemporary with Ancus Martins were Draco, the Athenian legislator;
Periander, tyrant of Corinth; and Nabopolassar, king of Babylon, father to
Nebuchadnezzar.
t These new senators were termed Patres minorum gentium; but this dis
tinction was lost in process of time, and all were regarded as equal in point of
rank.




Q96                   UNIVERSAL HISTOR7.t            [BOOK III
Gracchi, when it was enlarged to 600. I shalf have occasion
afterwards to treat more particularly of the constitution of this
body.
Rome was now gradually advancing in population and powel;
but her progress was not so rapid as to alarm  the other states of
Italy.  In the time of the elder Tarquin there were frequent wars
with the Sabines, Latins, and Etruscans, which generally ferminated to the advantage of the Romans; but the vanquished
nations were always very speedily in a condition to renew hostilities.
The city itself was increasing very much in extent and magnifi:.
cence.  Tarquin caused the walls to be built of hewn stone; hie
surrounded the forum with a covered corridore or arcades of pillars; he built the Circus Maximus, or Hippodrome, for the celebration of public games, for races and athletic exercises.  This
building was situated between the Aventine and Palatine hills.  It
was enlarged and embellished at different times; and in the age of
the eldqe  Pliny, was capable of containing 260,000 spectators, all
seated.  Tarquinius Priscus likewise constructed the cloacce, those
amazing drains or common sewers, which remain to this day the
wonder of all who view them.  The cloaca maxima is sixteen feet
in width, thirteen in depth, and of hewn stone arched over.
Works of this kind would seem to lead to the belief of a prodigious
increase of this city in size and population, when such immense
structures were formed within the period of 150 years from its
foundation.  But these appearances certainly afford rational ground
for a different conclusion or conjecture.  The immensity of those
cloacce, so unsuitable to such a city as we must suppose Rome to
have been in the days of the elder Tarquin (for Livy acknowledges
that they were judged unsuitable, from their large size, to the extent of the city, even in his time,) naturally induces a suspicion,
that those works were the remains of a more ancient and much
more splendid city, on the ruins of which the followers of Romulus
had chosen *to settle.. The like we know to have taken place in
different parts of Asia, where several of the greatest cities of antiquity, after they had gone to decay, and been for ages desolate
and uninhabited, have revived after a period of many centuries,
and from villages grafted on their ruins, have become pretty con
siderable towns, though far inferior to their ancient size and mag
nificence.  Were we here to offer a conjecture, it would be, that
the foundation of Rome is to- be carried back many ages beyond
the commonly received era, and that this city had anciently been
the residence of a part of that great and polished nation, the
Etruscans.
Tarquin, during some of his wars, had vowed to erect a temple
to Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva; but he lived only to see the work
begun.  In digging for the foundation of this structure, on the top
of the Tarpeian hill, the skull of a man was found;-a very




oH. tI.]                SERVIUS TULLIUS.                       097
ordinary occurrence, but which the augurs declared to be a presage
that Rome was one day to become the head, or mistress of the
universe.  The new temple was from this incident called  Capilo-;liuml.  If the anecdote is true, it shows how  early the Rollans
entertained views of empire and dominion.
Tarquin had adopted a young man, Servius, the son of a female
captive, and had given him  his daughter in marriage.  He was a
youth of talents, and soon gained the esteem both of the senators
and people; so that there was every prospect of his succeeding to
the throne upon the death of his father-in-law.  Two sons of
Ancus Martius were yet alive, who naturally looked likewise towards that dignity, to which they endeavored  to pave the way
by assassinating Tarquiniins Priscus.   This treasonable act they
perpetrated in the thirty-eighth year of his reign; but their crime
did not meet with the rebward of success.*
CHAPTER lI.
SERvIUS TULLIUS, sixth King of Rome-His Political Talents-Artful division of
the People into Classes and Centuries-The Census-Lustrurn-Tarquinius
Superbus-End of the Regal government-Reflections on this Period-Constitution of the Senate-Narrow Territory of the State-Exaggerated Accounts
of its Military Force-Uncertainty of its Early History.
SERVIUS TULLIUS had very naturally cherished the ambitious design of mounting the throne, upon the death of' his father-in-law.
On that event, he thought it prudent to employ some artifice.  He
gave out, that the king, though dangerously wounded, was still
alive, and had empowered him, in the meantime, to administer the
government, and to bring to punishment his assassins.  He procured, accordingly, a sentence of death' to be pronounced on the
sons of Ancus; but they escaped their fate by flying from  Rome,
and seeking an asylum  among the Volscians.   Servius, thus rid
of his competitors, proclaimed the king's death, and found no obstacle to his elevation to the vacant dignity.
* In the time of the elder Tarquin, Nebuchadnezzar made the conquest of
Jerusalem, and carried the Jews into captivity. Solon, in the same period, was
employed in new modelling the constitution, and giving laws to the republic of
Athens.
VOL. 1.'38




098                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BooK III
As the succession of Servius had wanted all the usual formalities, there having been no regular election by the people, nor any
inauguration by the usual consultation of the auspices, the new
sovereign wisely bent his whole attention to ingratiating himself
with his subjects by every method that could procure popularity.
He paid the debts of the poorer citizens by dividing among them
such lands as were his own property, and others of which they
had been illegally deprived by the richer citizens.  He adorned
the city with useful edifices; he was successful in the wars carried
on with the neighboring nations; and the people, pleased with tlhe
moderation he showed in the exercise of power, soon forgot his
usurpation.
It is remarked by Montesquieu, as one cause of the rapid
advancement of Rome in the first ages of her state, that all her
kings were great men.  Servius Tullius was a prince possessed of
superior political abilities.  There is nothing more worthy of attention than the measures which lie took for the reformation of those
abuses which had gradually arisen from  the indeterminatesnature of
the Roman constitution, and particularly that artful and ingenious
arrangement of the people into classes and centuries, by which he
contrived to throw the whole power of the state into the hands of
the superior order of citizens, without injury or offence to a
numerous populace, whose happiness is best consulted by removing
them firom all actual concern in the machine of government.  Of
this arrangement it is necessary for the proper intelligence of the
revolutions of the Rotnan commonwealth that a particular account
should here be given.
From  the tinme that the Romans had associated the Sabines and
the people of Alba to the rights of citizens, the urban and the
rustic tribes were composed of three distinct nations, each of which
had an equal share in the government.  Each tribe being divided
into ten curice, and each curia having an equal vole in the comitia
or public assemblies,.as every individual had in his curia, all
questions were determined by the majority of the suffrages of individuals. There was no preeminence or distinction between the
curice, and the order in which they gave their votes was determined
by' lot.
This was a very equitable and reasonable arrangement so long
as there were few distinctions among the citizens, and no great
inequality of fortunes.   But when riches came to be unequally
disti ibuted, it was easy to foresee numberless inconveniences from
this equality of power.  The indigent. or the worthless would
court every revolution which gave them  a chance of bettering
their fortunes; and the rich had an easy road to the gratification
of the most dangerous ambition by purchasing with bribes the votes
of the poor.
One grievance, likewise, which was very severely felt under the
former constitution, was, that all taxes were paid by the head,




OH. II.].SERVIUS TULLIUS.                       299
without regard to the unequal wealth of individuals.   This impolitic and unjust distribution, of which the poor had the highest
reason to coimplain, furnished Servius with an excellent pretence
for effecting that reformation which he meditated.  Hie undertook
to remove easily the poorer citizens from all share in the governmentt, by exempting them  from  all public burdens, and making
these fall solely on the rich.
After explaining to the people at large the necessity as well as
the justice of regulating the takes and contributions of individuals
according to their measure of wealth, he required, by a public
edict, that each citizen should declare, upon oath, his name, his
dwselling, the number of Ihis children, their age, and the value of
his whole property, under the penalty of having his goods confiscated, being publicly scourged, and sold for a slave.
After this nu neration, which was called census, Servius divided
the whole body of the citizens, without distinction of rank, birth,
or nation, into four tribes, named, firom  the quarters where they
dwelt, Palatine,,Stuburran,  Collatine and  Esquiline.   These
comprehended only such as dwelt within the city.  lie formed
other tribes of such as enjoyed the. privilege of Roman citizens,
but lived without the walls, or in the country.   Of these the
number is uncertain, some authors making the rustic tribes amount.to fifteen, others to seventeen, and others again to twenty-six.
The number probably varied, according as the Romans extended
their frontier.  These rustic tribes are frequently mentioned in the
Roriman history.  It is only necessary to remark at present, that
in early tinmes it was held more honorable to be included in those
of the city; but this distinction did not always continue.
Besides this local division from  the places where the different
citizens had their dwelling-houses, Servius divided the whole body
of the people into six classes, and each class into several centuries;
but these classes did not each contain the same number of centuries.  It is to be observed that a century was so termed, not as
in itself-consisting of one hundred men, but as being obliged to
furnish and to maintain that number of soldiers for the service
of the state, in time of war.  In the first class there were no less
than ninety-eight centuries.' These were the richest citizens;
such as were worth at least 100 mince, about 3001. sterling.  The
second class consisted of twenty-two centuries, and comprehended
such as were worth 75 mince, about 2251. sterling.  The third
class contained twenty centuries, of such as were worth 50 mince,
or 1501. sterling.  The fourth, of twenty-two centuries, or such
as were worth half that sum; and in the fifth were thirty centuries, of those worth 12 mince, or 361. sterling.  Tile last class,
though the most numerous of the whole, formed but a single
eentulry; and under this class were comprehended  all the poor
citizens.  Thus the whole body of the Roman people was divided
into one hundrdd and ninety-three centuries-or portions of ziti




300                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              LBOOK IIl
zens so termed, as furnishing and supporting each one hundred
soldiers in time of war.  The last class, the poor citizens, were
exempted from  all taxes and public burdens; they were called
Cc~pite Censi, as only making up a number; or were sometimes
termed Proletarii, as contributing to the use of the state only by
raising progeny.  The other classes were rated for their proportions of the public taxes, at so much for each century.  The
military centuries of the different classes formed separate bodies
of distinct rank; those of the first class being the highest, and
those of the last the lowest; they were distinguished likewise by
the arms they bore.  The one-half of each" century of soldiers,
namely, those above forty-five years of age, were reserved for the
protection of the city.
It was very evident that the poorer citizens had no reason to
complain of this new establishment, which exempted the greater
part from all taxes, and proportioned the burdens of the rest to
their share of wealth; but there was something necessary to indemnify and conciliate the rich.  For this purpose, Servius ordained that in fuiture the people should be assembled and give their
votes by centuries; the first class, consisting of ninety-eight centuries, always having the precedence in voting.  Such was the arrangement of the Comitia Centuriata, in which, henceforward, the
chief magistrates were elected, the laws framed, peace and war
resolved on, and, in a word, in which the supreme power of the
state was vested.  The Comnitia Curiata, where the people were
assembled by Curice, were now held only for the election of somne
of the priests, and a few of the inferior magistrates.  The Comitia
were held in the Campus JMartius, without the city.  The people walked thither preceded by their officers and insignia, in all
the order of a military procession, but without arms.  The king
alone had the power of calling these assemblies, after consulting
the auspices.
As in the Comitia Centuriata all the centuries, or the whole
body of the people, were called to the assembly, the whole of the
citizens seemed to have an equal share in the public deliberations.
Yet this was far from being the case.  The poorer classes came
necessarily to be deprived of all influence in the public measures:
for as there were in all the six classes one hundred and ninety-three
centuries, and the first class consisted of no less than ninety-eight
of these, who always gave their votes first, if these were of one
mind, which generally happened in important questions, the suffrages of the rest were of no avail, and were not asked.  If the
first class was not unanimous, the second came to have a vote;
but there was very rarely any opportunity for the inferior classes
to exercise their right of suffrage.  Thus the whole power of the
state wNas ar:fully removed from the body of the people at large to
the richer classes; and such was the ingenuity of this policy, that
all were pleased with it.  The rich were willing to pay for their




OH. It ]             TARQUIN THE PROUD.                    S30
influence in the state, and the poor were glad to exchange authority
for immunities.  They were satisfied with the appearance of consequence which they enjoyed by being called to the Comitia;
and it was not till ambitious men, to use them as instruments for
their own designs, rendered them jealous of their situation, that
they began to express any discontent.
The Census was concluded by a ceremony called Lustrum, or
an expiation.  The king presided at the sacrifice of a bull, a ram,
and a hog, which were first led three times round the Campus
Martius.  Hence the sacrifice was called Suovetaurilia, or sometimes Taurilia.  It was performed every five years, and thence
that period was termed Lutstrumn.
Religion had been the earliest bond of union among the states
of Greece.  Temples had been erected at the common charge of
the different republics, which accustomed them to consider, themselves as one nation.  After this model Servius'undertook to
unite the states of Latium.  In order that they might regard Rome
as a metropolis, he persuaded them to build at their common
charges a magnificent temple to Diana on the Aventine Mount,
and to repair thither once a year to perform sacrifice.  Thus the
Romans contracted a strict alliance with the Latian states, which
mainly contributed to increase their power.  Servius was a genuine
and enlightened patriot.  In all the changes which he effected
in the constitution of the state, he had no other end than the
public good.   Of the disinterested nature of his conduct he had
prepared to give the most effectual demonstration, by resigning
the crown and returning to the condition of a private citizen, when,
to the regret of his subjects, he fell a victim to the most atrocious
treason.  His infamous daughter, Tullia, married to Tarquinius,
the: grandson of Priscus, conspired with her husband to dethrone
and put to death her father; and" this excellent prince was assassinated, after a reign of forty-four years.
Tarquinius had gained the throne by the foulest of crimes, and
he resolved to secure himself in it by violence.  He acquired from
his manners the surname of Szuperbus, pride being the usual attendant of tyranny and cruelty.  Montesquieu has attempted to vindicate the character of this tyrant, and even to eulogize his virtues,
as Lord Orford has displayed his talents In a vindication of our
English Tarquin, Richard III., and both with nearly the same
success.  We may admire the ingenuity of the advocate who
tries his powers in such arduous attempts, but we cannot judge
them entitled to praise.  Let the man of ingenuity-stand forth as
the champion of virtue, which too often suffers from the envenomed
tooth of envy and detraction.  In this benevolent office he will
find abundant scope and exercise for his talents: but to lessen the
criminality of the avowedly vicious —to exculpate from one or from
a few slight offences where the blackest crimes have deservedly
consigned a character to infamy-in such attempts there is much




302                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK III
demerit; for the salutary horror of vice is thus weakened and
diminished, and virtue herself is defrauded by lessening the value
of her just reward.
The government of Tarquinius was regulated by principles
totally opposite to those of his predecessor.  He was in every
sense a despot.  With considerable military talents, he was successful in his wars against the  Tolsci and Sabines, the Latins of
Gabii, and other enemies of the Roman state; and he used these
conquests to ingratiate hinmself with the soldiery, to whon lie
allowed free scope to ravage and plunder in the course of hostilities; but the daily encroachments which he made on the liberties
of all ranks in the state, and the extreme severity and cruelty he
displayed in support of an arbitrary Control, soon rendered him the
object of universal detestation.  The more powerful of the citizens,
who, from their influence with the people, excited the fears and
jealousy of the tyrant, were on various pretences arraigned and
put to death.  Others, against whom  there was no pretext for a
judicial accusation, were privately assassinated.  Thus he put to
death the father and the brother of Lucius Junius, two of the
most respectable of the citizens.  Lucius himself, to escape a
simnilar fate, counterfeited fatuity, and thence acquired the denomrnination of' Brutus.
This most sanguinary tyrant, whose enormous offences daily
called for vengence from an injured people, was yet suffered to
reign for twenty-four years, and was at length punished for a
crime which was not his own. His son Sextus, equally lawless and
flagitious, had committed a rape on Lucretia, the wife of Collatintis, and the injured matron, unable to survive her dishonor,
stabbed herself in the presence of her husband and  kindred.
Brutus, a witness to this shocking scene, drew the dagger firom
her breast, and swore by the eternal gods to be the avenger` of
her death —an oath immediately taken by all who were present.
The dead body of the violated Lucretia was brought into the
forum, and Brutus, throwing off his assumed disguise of insanity,
appeared the passionate advocate of a just revenge, and the animated orator in the cause of liberty against tyrannical oppression.
The people were roused in a moment, and were prompt and
unanimnous in their procedure.  Tarquinius was at this time absent
from  the city, engaged in a war with the Rutulians.  The senate
was assembled, and pronounced a decree which banished for ever
the tyrant, and at the same time utterly abolished the name and
office of king. This decree was immediately confirmed by the
people in the Comitia, who at the same time added to it a tremendous sanction, devoting to the infernal gods every Roman who
should by word or deed endeavor to counteract or invalidate it.
Such was the end of the regal government at Rome, which
had subsisted for 244 years.  On this first period of the Roman
history I shall here offer a few reflections.




CH. I.]        EARLY GOVERNMENT OF ROME.                  303'The constitution of the Roman government was at first nominally monarchical; but in fact the kings of Rome seem  to have
enjoyed but a very moderate share of those powers which ordinarily attend the monarchical government.  We have seen that
the regal dignity was elective, and that the choice' resided in the
people.  It was the senate who most frequently proposed the
laws, but it was the people in their -Comitia who ratified them;
nor could the king, without the consent of the people, proclaim Nxar
or peace.  These rights of the people we find acknowledged by
the people without dispute; nor does it appear, till the reign of
the last Tarquin, that any attempts were made, upon the part of
the throne, to extend the monarchical authority so limited and
restrained.
A constitution thus attempered is not naturally the result of the
first union of a savage tribe; and hence has arisen the idea of extraordinary political abilities in the founder of this monarchy,
Romulus, to whom  several writers have chosen to attribute the
whole formation of a system which it is more reasonable to believe
was the slow growth of time and of experience.  With these
authors, no lawgiver is supposed to' have ever proceeded upon a
more extensive acquaintance with the nature of the political establishments of different states, or a juster estimate of their merits
and defects, than Romulus, a youth of eighteen, in that system of
regulations which he laid down for those rude shepherds or robbers whom  he is said to have assembled and formed into a commun;tV.
These romantic notions have, I believe, originated in a great
measure from an implicit reliance on the account of the origin of
the Roman state given by  Dionysius of Halicarnassus, whose
work, however ingenious, and in many respects estimable, is by
no. means to be relied on as a sure authority in tracing the early
history of Rome, which he himself confesses that he has founded
chiefly upon ancient fables, treated with neglect or passed over
by other writers.  Indeed the fables which he relates carry their
own confutation along with them; for what fiction can be more
absurd and incredible than to suppose an ignorant and rude youth,
the leader of a gang of banditti, or the chief of a troop of' shep.
herds, immediately after he had reared the turf walls of his projected city, calling together his followers, and delivering a labored
and methodical oration on the nature of the different kinds of
government, such as he had heard existed in Greece and other
nations, desiring his hearers seriously to weigh the advantages and
defects of those different political constitutions, and modestly concluding with a declaration that he is ready to accede with cheerfillness to whatever form  they, in their aggregate wisdom, may
decree?   On this absurd fiction Dionysius rears the structure of a
finely atteinpered constitution, all at once framed and adopted by
this troop of barbarians; a beautiful system, judiciously blending




304                 UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              LBOOK III
monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy.  Dionysius, however, has,
with singular injudiciousness, discredited his own authority, by
making a foolish parade of the motives which induced him to compile his history.  He owns that his chief object was to render his
work a pleasing and popular composition; something that might
flatter the pride of the Romans, and inspire his own countrymen,
the Greeks, with a high idea of the dignity of their conquerors.
" The Greeks," says he,." deceived by vulgar report, imagined
that the founders of Rome were barbarians, and vagabonds without
house or home, and those too the slaves and dependents of their
leader.  To efface these impressions from the minds of my countrymen, and engage them to entertain more just notions, so as not
to repine at being subject to a people who, from superiority of
merit, have a natural right to the dominion over all others, I undertake this work.  Let them cease to accuse fortune of this dispensation, since it is agreeable to an eternal law of nature that the
strong should be the rulers of the weak. My countrymen will
now learn from history that Rome had scarcely sprung into existence when she began to produce myriads of men, than whom no
state, either Grecian or barbarian, ever reared more pious, more
iust, more temperate, more brave, or more skilful in war.-But
these wonderful men, (continues he,) are unknown to the Greeks
from the want of an historian worthy to record their merits. "   It
will be readily allowed that a preface of this nature is not fitted to
increase our opinion either of the truth, the candor, or even the
judgment of the historian.
To return:  The notions, therefore, which some modern writers,
relying on the authority of Dionysius, have adopted, of the wonderful political talents of Romulus, and that judicious temperament
he is supposed to have made between the power of the sovereign,
the authority of the senate, and the rights of the people, seem to
be little else than a chimera.  The first political institutions of
the Roman state were, like those of every other, simple and
inartificial; suited to the immediate wants, and corresponding to
the exigencies of a rude tribe, first forming itself into a regular
community; but of whom, individual members had probably been
the exiles or fugitives from a state enjoying some degree of civilization, and subject to laws and institutions, which they were thus
enabled to impart to the new society they had agreed to form,
and of which they had chosen Romulus to be the chief, or sovereign. The fabric of the Roman government, such as we find it
within the period of any history we can deem authentic, was, like
every other, the gradual result of circumstances, the fruit of time
and of political emergency.
The early constitution of the Roman senate has given occasion
Dionys. Hal., Ant. Rom., lib. i.




ecl. II.]        EARLY GOVERNMENT OF ROTME.                305
to much learned disquisition.  The most judicious writers have
candidly confessed, that, with regard to the original mode of electing its members, they pretend to nothing more than conjecture;
as the ancient authors have been sparing in their information, extremely obscure; and often contradictory in their accounts.  The
most probable opinion seems to be that of the Abbe Vertot-that,
during the regal government, the kings had the sole right of nomi —
nating the senators; that the consuls succeeded them in this power;
and that, when these magistrates became too much engaged in
war to attend to domestic policy, that privilege devolved upon the
censors.  The senators we'e, at first, always chosen out of the
order of the patricians; that is, out of those families descended
frorn the first Centum  Patres who are supposed to have been
named by Romulus.  But afterwards, the right of election to that
dignity became common to the people and was among the first of
those privileges to which they obtained an equal title with the
patricians.  pThe puthority of the senate, in the first ages of the
cor mmonwealth, was very extensive.  No assembly of the people
could be held but in consequence of their decree; nor could such
assembly take any matter under consideration that had not first
seen debated in the senate.  It was even necessary, in order to
give the Plebiscita, or decrees of the people, any effect, that they
should be confirmed by a second decree of the senate; and hence,
with apparent justice, the government of the Romans, during the
earlier times of the Republic, has been termed rather an aristocracy
than a detlocrac(y.
Fromn this exorbitant power of the senate the first diminutions
were made by the tribunes of the. people, as we shall soon see;
but this was not without a violent and lasting struggle on the part
of the senate to maintain what had been their original rights: those
privileges, however, which remained always in the senate, and
which the people never pretended to call in question, were very
extensive.  The senate always continued to have the direction of
every thing that regarded religion: they had the,custody of the
public treasure, and the absolute disposal of it: they gave audience
to ambassadors, decided the fate of vanquished nations, disposed of
the governments of the provinces, and took cognisance, by appeal,
of all crimes committed throughout the empire.  In one particular,
upon great emergencies, their authority was truly supreme and
despotical.  In times of imminent danger, the senate issued its
decree, Dent operam  Consules, ne quid Respublica detriment,
capiat; a decree which gave to these chief magistrates a supreme
and unlimited power for the time, independent both of the senate
which conferred it, and of the people;  Such were the acknowledged powers of the Roman senate through the whole period of
the commonwealth.  It was, in fact, a perpetual council, whose
province it was to superintend all the magistrates of the state, and
VOL. I.                39




306                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY,             [BOOK I]I
to watch over the safety of the republic. Yet in the more ad,
vanced times of the commonwealth, the senate always made a
show of acknowledging the last, or executive power to be lodged
in the people; Senatus censuit, populus jussit: although this may
fairly be supposed to be nothing more than a piece of affected
moderation: since we know that they retained the full exercise of
those powers we have mentioned, even after all the encroachments
of the people, down to the times of the Gracchi, (A. u. c. 620,)
when their authority suffered, indeed, a great abridgment.
Towards the end of the regal government, the territory belonging to the Roman state was extremely limited. It is said to have
been only forty miles in length and thirty in breadth.  The progress of the Rornans in extending their frontier was at first extremely slow. Time was requisite for subduing nations as warlike
as themselves: and the methods both of making conquests and
preserving them  were little known.  This was the reason why
the first care of the Romnans, most wisely, was t9. strengthen thelmselves in their possessions.  It would have weakened them  too
much had they early attempted to extend their boundaries;  The
only use they yet made of their victories was to naturalize the
inhabitants of some of the conquered states, and. thus increase their
population.  By this wise forbearance they became a powerful
state, though within a narrow territory; because their strength was
always superior to their enterprises. They derived, likewise, from
the small extent of their lands, a spirit of moderation and frugality.
It was thus they paved the way for extending their limits afterwards
with advantage; and this judicious policy of choosing at first to
possess rather too small than too extensive a territory, laid the solid
foundation of their future greatness.
But with regard to the real forces or strength both of the Romans
and of their rival states in those early times, we are, on the whole,
extremely ignorant.  The Roman historians appear to have exaggerated greatly in these particulars.  We find in those authors,
that, notwithstanding very bloody engagements, the Romans, as
well as their enemies-the Latins, Sabines, tEqui, and Volscitake the field next campaign with armies still more numerous than
before.  Yet the cities and territories which furnished those armies
were extremely inconsiderable. The country to which they belonged was not remarkable for its fertility; and in such a state of
perpetual warfare, the inhabitants, constantly intent on ravaging and
pillaging, could not possibly cultivate it to advantage.  We have
every reason, therefore, to believe that the numbers of those armies
said to have been brought into the field are greatly exaggerated.
The frequent, and indeed incessant wars between those neighboring nations and the Roman Mate during the early periodscontinually renewed, in spite of repeated treaties, and many signal,
and apparently decisive victories-are subjects of just surprise.
M. Montesquieu has assigned a very ingenious cause for this dis



cH. in.]          EARLY GOVERNMENT OF ROME.                  307
regard of treaties.  It was a maxim  among the states of Italy,
that treaties or conventions made with one king or chief magis.
trate had no binding obligation upon his successor.  This, says
he, was a sort of law  of nations amorng them.  It were to be
wished that ingenious writer had given some special authority for
this very singular fact, instead Of contenting himself with saying
in general that it appears throughout the history of the kings of
Rome.
In the subsequent periods of the Roman history, hostilities more
generally commenced. upon the part of the Romans than on that
of their neighbors;, of which there seems to have been this simple cause, that the chief' magistrates, the consuls, being changed
every year, it was natural for every magistrate to endeavor to
signalize himself as much as he could during the short period of
his administration.  Hence the consuls were always persuading
the senate to some new military enterprise; and that body soon
became glad of a pretext which, by employing the people in an
occupation they were fond of, prevented all intestine disquiets and
mutinies.  That this continual engagement in war, and consequent
characteristical military spirit of the Romans, was owing to nothing
else than their situation, is rendered the more probable from  this
fact, that, excepting a small circle of the states immediately around
and in their vicinity, which necessarily contracted the same military
spirit, all the other nations of Italy were indolent, voluptuous, and
inactive.
The regal government among the Romans subsisted for 244
years, and during all that time only seven kings are said to have
reigned.  This statement is extraordinary; and the more so when
we consider that there was no hereditary succession, where sometirnes an infant succeeds to an old man; but each king was advanced in life when he ascended the throne; that several of them
died a violent death, and that the last of them lived thirteen years
after his expulsion.  These are circumstances which have suggest.
ed considerable doubt with regard to this period of the Roman
history; and it must be acknowledged that, even during the first
five centuries from the alleged period of the building of Rome, we
can be very little assured that the detail of facts which is commonly received on the authority of Livy and Diqnysius is perfectly
authentic.  It is an undisputed fact, that during the greater part
of that time there were no historians.  The  first Roman who
undertook to write the history of his country, was Fabius Pictor,
who lived during the second Punic war, (A. u. c. 535, and B. c.
218,) to which period he brought down his work; but the mate.
rials from which it was compiled were, if we may credit Dionysius,
in a great measure traditionary reports; nor is his chronology to
be relied on.  WVe know, indeed, with some bertainty, that there
were no authentic monuments of the early ages at this time
existing among the Romans.  Livv tells us, that almost all the




308                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK liI
ancient records of their history perished by fire when the city was
taken by the Gauls.  This author, therefore, with great candor,
gives his readers to understand that he does not warrant the authenticity of what he relates of those ancient times.  "It has been
allowed," says he, "to antiquity to mix what is human or natural
with the divine or supernatural, asd thus to magnify or exalt the
origin of empires; but on such traditions I lay little stress; and
what weight or authority may be given to- them  I shall not here,
stop to consider." *
From such and similar considerations, some critics have gone
so far as to reject as entirely fabulous the whole history of those
first five hundred years of the Roman story: but this is to push
the skeptical spirit greatly too fare. There is, indeed, a mist of
doubt hanging over the origin of this great people, as over that of
most of the ancient nations: and it is the part of sober and discriminating judgment to separate what has the probability  of
authenticity from what is palpably fabulous, and thus to form for
itself a rational creed, even with regard to'those ages where the
materials of history are most deficient.  It is not unreasonable to
conceive that the great outlines of the revolutions and fortune of
nations, in remote periods of time, may be preserved for many
centuries by tradition alone, though extremely natural that, in this
traditionary record, the truth may undergo a liberal intermixture
of fable and romance.
CHAPTER   III.
Interregnum-Consuls appointed with sovereign power —Conspiracy against
the new Government-Patriotism of Brutus-Valerian Law-War with Pore
sena-Popular disturbances-Debts of the Poor-A  Dictator appointedImpolitic conduct of the Patricians-Their Concessions-Tribunes of the
People created-Change in the Constitution-Reflections on.
TARQUINIUS SUPERBUS had trampled on all the constitutional
restraints, and on all the regulations of the preceding sovereigns.
He had never assembled the senate, nor called together the people
*Datur haec venia antiquitati, ut miscendo humana divinis, primordia urbi
um augustiora faciat.-Sed hlec et his similia, utcunque animadversa aut aesti
mata erunt, haud equidem in magno ponamn discrimine —Liv. Hist., lib. i
Proem.




Ce. InI]                THE CONSULS.                      309
in the Comitia.  He is even said to have destroyed or broken
the tablets on which the laws were written, in order to efface all
remembrance of them.  It was necessary, therefore, after his expulsion, that new tablets should be framed, and these, we may
presume, were much the-same with the former.
An interregnum  took place for some time, and during this time
the supreme power was lodged by the senate in the hands of Lucretius.  Brutus having in his possession some writings of Servius
Tullius, containing, as it is said, the plan of a republican government, these were read to the senate and people, and approved of.
The regal government had become completely odious, and it was
agreed to commit the supreme authority to two magistrates, to be
annually elected by the people out of the order of the patricians.
To these they gave the name of Cornstles; a modest title, says
the Abbe de Vertot, which gave to understand that these magistrates were rather the counsellors of the republic than its sovereigns,
and that the only point which.they ought to have in view was its
preservation and glory.  But, in fact, the authority of the consuls
differed scarcely any thing from that of the kings.  They had the
chief administration of justice, the absolute disposal of the public
money, the power of convoking the senate, and assembling the
people, of raising troops, naming all the officers, and the right of
making peace, war, and alliance-; in short, unless that their authority was limited to a year, they were in every respect kings.
The consuls wore the purple robe, they had the sella curulis, or
ivory chair of state, and each of' them was attended by twelve
lictors armed with the fasces, the symbols of their power of life
and death.  The two first consuls were Brutus and Collatinus,
the husband of Lucretia.
These magistrates, we have said, were elected out of the body
of the patricians; an exclusive privilege which, in fact, rendered
the constitution purely aristocratical.  But the jealousy of the
people was not yet alarmed; and they were so well pleased to be
freed from the despotic power of a single tyrant, that it did not
occur to them that they had any thing to dread from a multitude
of tyrants.
On this change of the government, solemn sacrifices were performed, the city was purified by an expiation or lustrum, and the
people renewed their oath against the name and office of king.
Taiquin was at this time in Etruria, where he prevailed on two of
the most powerful cities, Veii and Tarquinii, to espouse his cause.
These states sent ambassadors to Rome with a formal requisition,
that the' exiled prince might be allowed to return and give an
account of his conduct; but as it must have been foreseen that
such a proposal could meet with no regard, the true purpose of
the embassy was to secure a party in the interest of Tarquin, who
might cooperate in a meditated attempt to restore him to power;
and this purpose they gained by a liberal employment of bribes




310                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [Boo0  InI
and promises.  The conspiracy, however, was detected; and it
was found that among the chief persons concerned were the twc
sons of Brutus, and the nephews of Collatinus.  An example was
now exhibited, severely virtuous indeed, but which the necessity.
of circumstances required and justified.  Brutus himself sat in
judgment upon his two sons, and condemned them to be beheaded,
himself witnessing their execution.  Extit patrern  t t consulem
ageret, orbusque vivere, qutam  publies  vindictcr  devesse maluit.*
Such is the reflection of Valerius Maximus, but that of Livy is
more natural; he remarks that Brutus, resolute as he was in tile
performance of this severe duty, could not lay aside the character,
nor suppress the feelings of a father.  Quum inter omn e tempus
pater, vultusque et os ejus spectaculo esset, eminente animo patrio,.
inter publicce pcenen ministerium.t  Collatinus had not strength to
imitate that example, and his endeavor to avert the punishment
of his nephews procured his own deposition and banishment.
War was now the last resource of Tarquin; and, at the head
of the armies of Veii and Tarquinii, he marched against the Romans.  He was met by the consuls Brutus and Publius Valerius,
who, on the expulsion of Collatinus had been chosen in his room,
and an engagement ensued, in which Brutus lost his life.  The fate
of the battle was doubtful; but the Romans claimed the victory,
and Valerius was honored with a triumph, a ceremony henceforward usually conferred on a victorious general after a decisive
engagement. A higher honor was paid to-the memory of Brutus,
for whom the whole city wore mourning for ten months.
So much was the ardor of liberty kept alive by the attempts of
the exiled prince, and such the jealousy of the Romans, roused by
the slightest indications of an ambitious spirit in any of the citizens,
that Valerius, notwithstanding the high favor he enjoyed on account
of his public services, had, from  a few circumstances apparently
of the most trifling nature, almost lost his whole popularity.  He
had neglected, for some time, to summon the comitia for the election of a new consul, and he had built a splendid dwelling for
himself on the summit of the Palatine hill, which commanded a
prospect of the whole city -strong symptoms, it was thought, of
the most dangerous ambition.  Whether, in reality, he entertained
such designs as were attributed to him, may well be doubted; but
it is generally believed that a hint of his danger made him at
once so zealous a patriot, and so strenuous a champion for the
rights of the people, that he thence acquired the ambiguous surname of Poplicola.  He pulled down his aspiring palace, and
"  He sacrificed the feelings of a father to the obligations of chief magistrate,
and preferred a childless old age to any failure of his duty to the state."
t " While all the time his looks betrayed the feelings of a father, the pure
patriotism of his soul prevailed in the administration of public justice."




Ci. II.]                 PORSENA.                        311
contented himself with a low mansion in an obscure quarter of the
city.  Whenever he appeared in public he ordered the consular
fasces to be lowered before the people, and the axes to be laid
aside, which henceforth were borne by the lictors only without the
walls of the city.  He caused a law to be passed, which made it
death for any citizen to aim at being king; he refused to take
custody of the money levied for the expenses of war, and caused
that charge to be conferred on two of the senators.  But of all
sacrifices to liberty, that which in fact most materially enlarged
the power of the people was a new law, which permitted any
citizen who had been condemned to death by a magistrate, or
even to banishment, or coporal punishment, to appeal to the peo
pie; the sentence being suspended till their decision was given
This law, which, from the name of its author was termed Valerianz, struck most severely against the aristocracy; and from this
era we may date the commencement of the democratic constitution
of the Roman government.  (A. u. C. 244. —. c. 510.)
For thirteen years after the expulsion of Tarquinius Superbus,
the Romans were involved in continual wars upon his account.
Of these the most remarkable was the war with Porsena, king of
Etruria, who had taken arms in behalf of the exiled prince.  The
detail of this war by the Roman writers would be extremely uninteresting, were it not embellished by some romantic stories which
have much the air of fable.  Such are the defence of a bridge by
Horatius Cocles, single, against the whole Etrurian army; the
attempt to assassinate Porsena by.Jutius Scaevola, and the proof
he gave of his fortitude by holding his hand in the fire till it was
consumed; the story of. Clelia the hostage, and her companions,
who swam across the Tiber amidst a shower of arrows;-beautiful
incidents, but scarcely entitled to the credit of historical facts.
Such examples, however, of invincible resolution are said to have
produced a striking effect on the mind of Porsena, and to have
converted him from an enemy into a firm friend and ally of the'Romans.  Tarquin, nevertheless, found still a powerful support
from the external enemies, and doubtless from some of the traitorous subjects of the republic.  Thirty of the states of Latium continued still in his interest, and the war was carried on with as much
animosity as ever.
The Romans were in a train of success when there arose among
them such violent dissensions as had very near caused the most
fatal consequences:  As these domestic disturbances continued
long to embroil the republic, and were the source of many important revolutions, it is proper to consider their origin with some
attention.
We have already seen that in the time of Romulus, when the
first partition was made of the lands, a certain proportion was
reserved for the public uses, and thl rest distributed among the
people by equal shares of two acres to each Roman citizen., After



312                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [0oox0 mI
wards, when Rome was extending her territory, new  partitions
were made of the conquered lands, but not with the same impartiality and equality.  A part was reserved for the use of the state,
but the patricians generally contrived to get the rest into their
bands, allowing no share to the, inferior ranks of the people. These
abuses became more frequent from the time of Servius's new
arrangement, which gave the richer citizens an entire ascendency
in the state, and they increased still more from the time of the expulsion of the kings, when the government became, as we have
seen, aristocratical. This inequality of property continually increasMg, and the indigence of the lower classes obliging them frequently
to contract debts, they, found, in a little time, that they were
stripped by the severity of their creditors even of those inconsid.
erable pittances of land from which they derived their subsistence.
It was one of the early laws of the Roman state, that a debtor
who -was unable to pay was delivered as a slave to his creditor;
he was chained that he might not escape, and was employed in
the hardest labor.  The grievance was further increased by this
flagrant injustice-that there was no law which limited the rate of
interest on borrowed money, so that many of those miserable plebeians, incurring at first a trifling debt, saw themselves stripped of
all they possessed, and reduced to a state of the most intolerable
servitude.
From complaints which they found entirely disregarded, they
proceeded to mutiny, and to open and violent expressions of their
indignation against the higher orders.  The war required new
levies, and the senate ordered that the plebeians should enroll and
arm in defence of the common liberties.  These peremptorily refused the summons, declaring that they knew no liberties to defend,
since a foreign yoke could not be more intolerable than the bondage
they experienced at home.
The senate was assembled, and the matter solemnly deliberated.
Some of the higher order generously gave their opinion for an
entire remission of the debts of the poorer class of people; others
opposed the proposal, as sanctioning a violation of faith, and a
criminal breach of legal obligation.  Appius Clauldius, a violent
and proud patrician, maintained that the people suffered nothing
more than their deserts, and that if not kept in poverty they would
be for ever factious and unruly.  Amidst these contending opinions, the senate was at a loss what decision to pronounce.  An
alarm spread of the approach of the enemy to attack the city, and
this report gave fresh spirit to the populace.  They persisted in
their refusal to enter the rolls, and declared that if their grievances
were not immediately redressed, they would quit the city.. The
consuls found their authority of no avail, for the Valerian law had
given every citizen whom they condemned, a right of appealing to
the people.
To evade the force of this law, some extraordinary measure was




CH. Iii.]              APPIUS CLAUDIUS.                    313
necessary. The senate passed a decree ordaining the consuls to
lay down their office, and enacting that in their room a single
magistrate should? be elected by the senate, and confirmed by the
people, who for six months should be invested with absolute and
unlimited authority.  The people were assembled in the comilia
by centuries, an arrangement which, as we have seen, threw  the
whole power into the hands of the higher orders, and thus a decree
was easily obtained which ratified the ordinance of the senate; the
lower ranks, perhlaps, flattering themselves that the new magistrate
would procure a redress of their grievances.  This is the first
instance of the creation of a dictator, an expedient which we shall
see was afterwards in times of necessity very frequently resorted
to.  The senate appointed one of the consuls, Clelius, to choose
the dictator, (a form henceforth always observed,) and he named
to that office his colleague Lartius.  The dictator chose for himself a lieutenant, or magister equitum; he made the twenty-four
lictors resume their axes, a sight which struck terror into the people, and disposed them  to submission and obedience.  All the
citizens, whose names were called by the dictator, were enrolled
without a murmur. Four bodies of troops were formed, of which
one was left for defence of the city, and with the other three the
dictator took the field against the enemy.  He had some successes
against the hostile states, which paved the way for a truce for a year,
and, in the rmeantime, Lartius returned to Rome and abdicated his
office.: In the year following; when the war was renewed, it was
found necessary to recur to the same expedient. Aulus Posthumius
was chosen dictator, who gained an important victory near to the
lake Regillus, in which the two sons of Tarquin, Sextus and Titus,
were slain.  This put an end to all his prospects.  He retired to
Cuttce in Campania, where he died at the advanced age of ninety;
and the allied states now concluded peace with the Romans (A. U.
c. 257.) In this year was held the sixth census, or numeration of
the Roman people, by which it appeared that the number of the
citizens capable of bearing arms was 157,700.
Till now, the senators had seen the necessity of keeping some
measures with the people, lest they should exasperate them into
the execution of a design they sometimes expressed of calling back
the exiled Tarquins.  As this fear was now at an end, the insolence of the higher orders daily increased.  Appius Claudius, who
was at this time consul, now openly avowed a resolution of breaking this mutinous spirit of the plebeians, and reducing them to
absolute submission.  But this policy was no less absurd than it
was tyrannical.  The plebeians, from  their vast superiority in
numbers, had only to follow a united plan, to force the higher
orders to compliance with any measure on which they chose to
insist.  A striking incident, which had a powerful effect on their
passions, gave them this spirit of union, and excited the most
violent ferment in the commonwealth.
VOL. 1.                40




31 4                 UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              LBOOK III.
In the midst of the public assembly, a venerable figure, hoary
with age, pale and emaciated, his countenance furrowed with
anguish, and his whole appearance expressive of misery and calamity, stood up before the tribunal of the consuls, and prayed aloud
for mercy against the oppression of an inhuman creditor.  Disfigured as he was, his countenance was known, and many remembered to have seen him in the wars, where he fought with great
courage, and had received many honorable wounds in the service
of his country.  He told his story with affecting simplicity.  The
enemy, in an incursion, had ravaged his little farm, and set fire to
his cottage. Bereft of subsistence, he had borrowed, to support
life, a small sumn from one of the rich citizens; the interest had
accumulated, and being quite unable to discharge the debt, he had
delivered himself with two of his children into bondage.  In this
situation he affirmed that his merciless creditor had treated him as
the worst of malefactors; and throwing aside his garment, he
showed his back all covered with blood from the recent strokes of
the whip.*
This miserable sight roused the populace to the highest pitch
of fury.  They rushed upon the consul's tribunal; and Appius
would have been torn to pieces, had not the lictors cleared for him
a passage and carried him off to a place of safety.  His colleague,
Servilius, a man of a moderate and humane spirit, endeavored
with tears in his eyes to appease the tumult, and pledged himself
to the people to mediate with the senate in their behalf..Such
was the state of Rome, when an alarm was given that the Volsci
had entered the territory of the republic.  The senate felt its
weakness; they employed Servilius to treat with the people, and
he gave them his promise that their grievances should be considered, and redressed as soon as the present danger was removed.
They enlisted themselves under his standard, and marching against
the Volsci, engaged and defeated them with considerable slaughter.
It had hitherto been customary, after every victory, where there
was an acquisition of booty, to reserve a part of it for the use of
the state; but Servilius, on this occasion, had thought it a wise
policy to conciliate the troops by dividing the whole of it among
them. Appius, with much indiscretion, thought proper to accuse
him on that score to the senate, and to procure a vote of that body
refusing him the honor of a triumph.  Servilius felt the indignity,
and in an assembly of the people in the Campus Martius, he
complained to them of the senate's injustice.  The people immediately brought forth the triumphal car, and placing him on it with
high acclamations, conducted him  to the capitol with the usual
pomp of a triumph.  But this strong testimony of popularity did
not ensure the continuance of their favor.  As Servilius had now
* See Livy, lib. ii. c. 23, where this incident is most eloquently related.




CH. III.]             MARCUS VALERIUS.                     315
lost all credit with the senate by holding their authority in deflance, and hence found himself unable to make good his promise
to the people of a redress of grievances, he soon became equally
obnoxious to both parties.
The disorders, meantime, continued as violent as ever, and a
new alarm from the enemy obliged the senate again to resort to
the nomination of a dictator.  Marcus Valerius, the brother of
Poplicola, a man agreeable to the plebeians, was chosen to that
high office; and as his private sentiments were favorable to their
cause, he had no scruple to engage his word for a redress of their
wrongs, on condition of their following his standard.
The enemy was subdued, and he now required the senate to
fiulfil his engagements.  But Appius, the stubborn opponent of
every measure that was favorable to the people, prevailed to have
this demand refused.  There is, I think, some question whether
the dictator, in virtue of that supreme power with which he was
for the time invested, could not by his own authority have enforced
this measure, for which his honor was engaged.  But Valerius
was an old man, and. probably dreaded the consequences of so
violent a procedure.  He =assembled the people, and, after doing
justice to their bravery and patriotism, he complained that he was
not allowed to keep his engagements with them, but declared that
his authority should no longer countenance a breach of the public
faith-, and he immediately abdicated his office.
The people, thus repeatedly and shamefully.deceived, were
determined to be no longer the dupes of promises.  The senate,
apprehensive of their spirit, had ordered the consuls not to disband
them, but to lead them  without the walls, on pretence that the
enemy were still in the field.  The soldiers, at the time of their
enrolment, took an oath not to desert their standards till they were
formally disbanded; but this oath they eluded by taking their
standards along with then.  Under Sicinius Bellutus, one of their
own order, they marched with great regularity to a hill at three
miles distance from  the city, afterwards called, from  that occurrenee, the Jl.ons Sacer; and here they were in a short time joined
by the greatest part of the people.*
There can be nothing figured more arbitrary and more impolitic
fthan the proceedings of the senate.  Their pride was now humbled; they found there was a necessity' for adopting the most
lenient and conciliatory measures; and they deputed some of the
most respectable of their order, who, after a difficult and labored
negotiation, were compelled at length to grant the people all they
demanded.'The debts were solemnly abolished; and for the
security of the people in time to come, and a warrant against all
new attemps or modes of oppression, they were allowed the right
* Dion. Hal., lib. v.; Livy, lib. ii., c. 32.




316                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK III.
of choosing magistrates from their own order, who should have the
power of opposing with effect every measure which they might
judge in any shape prejudicial to their interest.
These new magistrates were to be elected annually, like the
consuls.  They were five in number,* and were termed tribunes,
because the first of them  were chosen from  among the tribunt
nlilitum of the different legions.  They had the power of suspending, by a single vfto, the execution of any decree of the senate
which they judged prejudicial to the interest of the people; they
were not allowed, however, to interfere in the-deliberations of that
body, nor permitted even to enter the senate-house.  The persons
of these magistrates were declared sacred; but their authority was
confined within the bounds of the city and a mile beyond the walls.
The tribunes demanded two magistrates to aid them in their office,
and this request was likewise granted.  These were called JEdiles,
from the charge given them  of the public buildings; and afterwards
they had likewise the care of the games, spectacles, and other
matters of police within the city.
The creation of the Tribunes of the People is the era of a
change in the Roman constitution. The Valerian law had given a
severe blow to the aristocracy, or party of the patricians,; and the
creation of popular magistrates with such high powers had now
plainly converted the government into a democracy.  Had the
people been mildly dealt with, the desire of a revolution had never
taken place, and -the patricians might have enjoyed their ascendency
in the state, to which time would always have given new confirmatio-n.  But the violence and unruly passions of a few leading men
are capable of embroiling the most peaceful community, and
awakening causes of discontent and jealousy which otherwise
would have had no existence.  The tyrannizing spirit of Appius
Claudius, and the stubbornness of that faction of the rich who
supported him, drove the people at length to desperate measures,
and gave rise to that formidable and resistless opposition of which
we have seen the effects.
A strong degree of jealousy had, from the first institution of the
commonwealth, begun to rankle in the breasts of the plebeians
against the higher order.  They saw, with a very natural indignation, that the patricians had supplanted them  in all the offices
of power and emolument; for, though there was a nominally free
election to those offices in which the whole people had a right of
suffrage, yet this, from causes already sufficiently explained, was
in practice illusory.  But the immediate cause of things coming
to an open rupture was, as we have seen, the intolerable burden
of the debts owing by the poor to the rich. This grievance
About thirty years after, their number was increased to ten, and it so contin
ued ever afterwards.




CHI. III.]        PLEBEIANS AND PATRICIANS.                317
became at length so general, from  the frequency of the military
campaigns, in which every soldier was obliged to serve at his own
charges, and fiom  the ravages committed on the lands by the
hostile armies, which reduced the poorer sort entirely to beggary,
that the plebeians began to look upon their order as born to a
state of hereditary servitude.  Hence that desperate measure of
abandoning the city and encamping in arms upon the MJlons Sacer.
All that the people at this time desired was not power, but a
relief from oppression and cruelty.  And had this just claim  been
readily listened to, and a relief granted to them, if not by an entire
abolition of the debts, at least by repressing the enormous" usury,
and taking away the inhuman rights of slavery and of corporal
punishment, this people would, in all probability, have cheerfully
returned to order and submission, and the Ronian constitution
might long have remained, what we have seen it was at first,
aristocratical. But a torrent imprudently resisted will in time
acquire that impetuous force which carries every thing before
it. The patricians, sensible that they had pushed matters to a
most alarming extreme, and now thoroughly intimidated, were
obliged to grant the demand of creating popular magistrates.  Tihe
tribunate being once established, we shall see it become the main
object with these magistrates to increase their own powers by
continual demands and bold encroachments.  The people, regarding them as the champions of their rights, are delighted to find
themselves gradually approaching to an equality with the higher
order; and no longer bounding their desires to ease and security,
become soon equally influenced by ambition as their superiors,
while that passion in them is'the less subject to control that they
have more to gain and less to lose.  While this people, borne
down by hardships and oppression, seek no more than the redress
of real grievances and a share of ease and happiness as the members of a free state, we applaud their spirited exertions, and execrate that arbitrary and inhuman principle which prompted the
higher order to treat them as slaves or inferior beings.  But when
we behold this people compassing at length by a vigorous and
manly resistance the end they wished for —attaining  ease and
security, nay power, which at first they had not sought, and never
dreamed of; when we see them, after this, increasing in their demands, assuming all that arrogance they justly blamed before,
goaded on by the ambition of their leaders to aim at tyrannizing
in their turn — we view with proper discrimination the love of
liberty and its extreme, licentiousness; and treat with just detestation the authors of those pernicious measures, which embroiled the
state in endless factions, and paved the way for a total loss of that
liberty which this deluded people knew not to put a true value
upon when they actually possessed it.
Some authors, and among the rest the Abbe Condillac, pretend
to find in those perpetual dissensions and violent struggles between




318                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK III,
the patrician and plebeian orders at Rome, the true cause of the
glorious and prodigious extension of her empire, and of al. her
subsequent grandeur and prosperity.  This, though not an uncommon mode of reasoning, is by far more specious than it is solid.
I would ask what shadow of necessary connection there is between
the factious disorders, and internal convulsions of a state, and the
extension of her empire by foreign conquest?  On the contrary,
it seems a self-evident proposition, that while the one spirit exists,
the other for the time is extinguished, or lies altogether dormant;
for the ambition of domestic rule cannot otherwise be gratified than
by a constant and servile attention to the arts of popularity, incompatible with the generous passion which leads to national aggrandizemnent. The people too, won only by corruption: and split by
rival demagogues into factions, imbittered against each other with
the most rancorous hostilities, are incapable of that cordial union
to which every foreign enterprise must owe its success.  The
martial* spirit may, no doubt, be kept alive, and find improving
exercise in a civil war or rebellion; but this spirit finds too much
exercise at home, to seek for employment in foreign conquests;
and in the breasts of the leading men, those selfish motives, either
of avarice or the love of power, which are commonly the sources
of all civil disorders, are baneful to every generous and patriotic
fdeling, which seeks alone the true greatness or glory of the
state.
In the present case, the true causes of the wonderful extension
of the Roman empire will be sought in vain, in the perpetual
contests between the higher and the lower orders.  These., instead
of being productive of national aggrahdizenient, were the immediate causes of the fall of the commonwealth and the ruin of civil
liberty.  The main source of the extension of the empire by its
conquests, is to be found in the extraordinary abilities of a few
great men, who, either in a subordinate station had too much
worth. to prefer a selfish interest to the glory of their country, or
who, spurning the more confined object of superior power at home,
proposed to themselves a nobler and more glorious aim by extending the limits of that empire which they ruled as sovereigns.
It is not to be denied that other causes, likewise,. contributed to
the aggrandizement of the Roman empire.  Several of these have
been pointed out by Montesquieu.  Such was, among others, the
very power of those enemies they had to encounter; a power
which must either have entirely oppressed and annihilated them,
or forced them  to that most vigorous and animated exertion to
which they owed their successes.  Such enemies were the Gauls,
the -Macedonians under Pyrrhus, and the Carthaginians under
Hannibal.  So far were the factions of the state from  being the
cause of those successes, and that rapid extension of empire, that
t was the formidable power of such external enemies that, lulling




CH. IV.]            TRIBUNES OF THE rEOPLE.                  319
asleep for the time every source of domestic faction and disorder,
enabled the republic to employ its whole strength, and make those
spirited efforts to which it owed its most glorious successes.
CHAPTER IV.
Increase of the power of the Tribunes —They convoke an assembly of the Peo
ple-Coriolanus-Disputes on the Agrarian Law —Law of Volero -and
change produced by it.
THE disorders which we have seen allayed by the creation of the
tribunes of the people, were only quieted for a very short space of
time. We shall see them immediately renewed, and continued,
with very little interruption, till the people acquired an equal title
with the patricians to all the offices and dignities of the commonwealth.  Thus, for a period of almost two centuries, the history
of Rome, during every succeeding year, presents almost the same
scenes; an endless reiteration of complaints, on account of the
same or similar grievances; opposed by the same spirit, resisted
by similar arguments, and usually terminating in the same way,
to the increase of the popular power.  As our object is to give
rather a just idea of the character and spirit of nations, than a
scrupulous detail, or minute chronicle of events, we shall, in that
period, touch only on such circumstances as, while they are illustrative of the genius of the people, are necessary to form a connected chain of the principal events which had their influence on
the revolutions and fate of this Republic.
The first tribunes of the people were created 260 years after
the foundation of Rome, and seventeen years after the abolition of
the regal government.  These magistrates were habited like simple citizens; they had no exterior ensigns of power; they had
neither tribunal nor jurisdiction as judges; they had no guards nor
attendants, unless a single domestic termed TViator or.lpparitor.
They stood without the senate-house, nor durst they enter it unless
they were called in. by the consuls: but possessing, as we have said,
the power of suspending or annulling, by a single veto, the most
solemn decrees of that body, their influence and authority were
very great.
Every thing, for a little while, wore an appearance of tranquillity. The senators blindly applauded themselves on the success
of their negotiation, as they saw the people pleased, and could see




320                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK IIi..nothing to fear from those rude and simple magistrates, who had
not even the outward symbols of power  But this delusion was
of short continuance.
It was in the beginning of spring, that the people had retreated
to the JXons Sacer; at a time when it was customary to plough
and sow the fields of the republic.  As the lands had lain neglected during those commotions, it was not surprising that the following harvest should be a season of great scarcity.  This, perhaps, the senate, by proper precautions, might have prevented.
The tribunes accused that body of negligence, and of a design to
raise a famine among the people, while the patricians, as they
insinuated, had taken care of themselves, by laying in abundant
supplies.
The consuls assembled the people, and attempted to justify the
senate; but being constantly interrupted by the tribunes, they
could not make themselves be heard.  They urged, that the tribunes having only the liberty of opposing, ought to be silent till
a resolution was formed.  The tribunes, on the other hand, contended that they had the same privileges in an assembly of the
people that the consuls had in a meeting of the senate.  The dispute was running high, when one of the consuls rashly said, that
if the tribunes had convoked the assembly, they, instead of interrupting them, would not even have taken the — trouble of coming
there; but that the consuls having called this assembly, they ought
not to be interrupted.  This imprudent speech was an acknowledgment of a power in the tribunes to convoke the public assemblies;
a power which they themselves had never dreamt of. It may be
believed they were not remiss in laying hold of the concession.
They took the whole people to witness what had been said by
the consuls, and an assembly of the people was summoned, by the
tribunes, to meet the next day.*
The whole people assembled by daybreak.  Icilius, one of the
tribunes, urged that, in order that they might be in a' capacity of
effectually fulfilling their duty, in protecting and vindicating the
rights of the people, they should have the power, not only of
calling them together, but of haranguing them without being subject to any interruption.  The people were unanimously of this
opinion; and a law to that purpose was instantly passed by general
acclamnation.  The consuls would have rejected this law, on the
score of the assembly's being held against all the established tforms:
— it had not been legally summoned, and there had been no consultation of the auspices; but the tribunes declared that they would
pay no more regard to the decrees of the senate, than the consuls
and the senate should pay to those of the people.  The senate
was forced to yield, and the new law was ratified by the consent
* Dion Hal. 1. c. Liv. lib. ii. Plutarch in Coriol




cn. IV.  cORIOLANUS.                                      321
of both orders.  Thus there were now established in the republic
two separate legislative powers,-which maintained a constant oppositio~n to each other.
There was but one method by which the senateq might, perhaps, have recovered their power. This was, by exercising their
authority with such moderation, and so much regard to the interests of the people, *as to render the finctions of the tribunes
superfluous.  But this was a difficult part to act.  Being once
supreme, they could not stoop to an abasement of power, and inflexibly struggling to maintain a prerogative which they wanted real
strength to vindicate, they prepared for themselves only a greater
humiliation.
One of the most violent of the senators was Caius Marcius,
surnamed Coriolanus, from a successful campaign he had made
against the Volsci, in which he had taken Corioli, one of their
principal towns.  Coriolanus had aspired to the consulate, but
the people, fearing his high and arrogant spirit, had excluded him
from that dignity.  Incensed at this disappointment, he took every
opportunity of expressing his resentment; and in particular, declared openly in the senate, that the necessities of the people,
occasioned by the present famine, furnished an opportunity which
ought not to be neglected, of compelling them to relinquish all
pretensions to authority, and to abolish their new magistrates.
The people, exasperated beyond measure, vowed vengeance
against Coriolanus, and they summoned him to appear before
them, and answer for his conduct.' He refused, and the Ediles
had orders to arrest him, but were repulsed in the attempt by his
partisans among the patricians.  In a tumultuous assembly of the
people, one of the tribunes proceeded, with a daring stretch of
authority, to pronounce Coriolanus guilty of treason, and award a
capital punishment: but the people themselves were sensible that
this was going too far; they repealed this precipitate sentence;
allowed him twenty-seven days to prepare his defence, and summoned him to appear before their assembly after the lapse of that
term.
During this interval the consuls and the chief senators, who saw
the dangerous cotisequences of violent measures, endeavored, by
persuasion, to promote a good understanding between the orders.
They labored to convince the tribunes that it had hitherto been
the constant practice, and agreeable to the constitution of the
republic, that every public measure should originate by a motion
in the senate, and that till this body had given a decree, no business
of state could be agitated in the assembly of the people.  The
tribunes did not acquiesce in these propositions: they contendedthat, the authority of the people was coordinate with that of the
senate; and that-the Valerian law  having ordained a right of
appeal to the people from the senate, and all' magistrates-they
must, of course, possess the right vf citing before them any citizens
VOL. I                   41




322                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             lBOOK  III
who had offended.  The affair was of difficult decision, in the
uncomplying temper in which parties then stood.  It was, however, thus compromised for the present.  The tribunes agreed to
make their complaint against Coriolanus in the senate, and that
body consented, on their part, to refer the consideration of the
cause back to the assembly of the people.  This course, accord
ingly, was adopted. The senate admitted the. importance (if
proved) of the charges preferred to their body by the tribunes,
and ordained Coriolanus to appear and answer in the assembly of
the people. They were desirous, however, of; procuring this
assembly to be convoked by centuries; by which means they
flattered themselves with an entire ascendant, which would ensure
the acquittal of their member: but the people would not consent
to it; the votes were called in the order of the tribes; and Coriolanus was condemned to perpetual exile.
He now proposed to himself a plan of vengeance, in the last
degree ignominious, and which no injuries an individual can receive
are sufficient to justify. He repaired to the camp of the Volscians,
and offered his services to the determined enemies of his country.
They wexe accepted; and such was the consequence of his abilities as a general, that Rome, in the space of a few months, was
reduced to extremity.  The people now demanded that the senate
should repeal their decree of banishment; but that body, with
a laudable firmness, declared that they would grant no terms to a
rebel while in arms against his sovereign state.  The importunity
of the populace, however, so far prevailed, that a deputation, consisting of five persons of consular dignity, and his own relations,
was sent to propose terms of accommodation.  Coriolanus haughtily answered, that lie would never consent to treat of peace, till
the Romans should restore whatever they possessed of the Volscian territory, and he allowed the space of thirty days to consider
of this proposition. At the end of that time he appeared again
with his army under the walls of the city.  The senate maintained
an inflexible resistance to the demands of the traitor, and to the
popular clamor.  At length a band of Roman matrons, at the
head of which was Veturia, the mother of Coriolanus, with his
wife and children, repaired to the camp of the enemy, and suddenly presented themselves at the feet of Coriolanus. The severity
of his nature was not proof against this last appeal.  He consented
to lay down his arms; he ordered his troops to retire; and thus
Rome owed her safety to the tears of a woman.
There are few historical events (so called) which give more
room for skepticism than this story of Coriolanus. If we should
admit that the resentment of his,vrongs might have hurried a
high-spirited Roman into a conduct, so utterly disgraceful-and
moreover so dangerous, while his mother, his wife, and all his
kindred were hostages in the hznds of his countrymen,-how can
we believe that Rome, ever superior as we have seen her to the




CH. IV ]                AGRARIAN LAW.                    323
petty states which were her enemies, should, during the whole
time of this lengthened negotiation, have taken no effective measures of resistance or defence; that we should neither find a
Roman general nor a Roman army in the field to check the triumphant pride of this traitor to his country; that the Volscianswho, three years before, were so weakened by a pestilence, that![elitrae, one of their most flourishing towns, would have been
entirely annihilated, but for the supply of a colony of Roman
citizens-should have now become so powerful as to strike terror
and dismay into the Roman state, and compel her to that mean
act of supplication, to which, we are told, she owed her escape
from destruction?  If there is any truth in a story so void of probability, there is only one circumstance truly deserving of attention-the striking contrast between the conduct of the senate and.
that of the people.  The people-fluctuating in their opinions,
and ever in extremes-the one day, in the height of exasperation
against Coriolanus f6r an offence against themselves, condemn him
to perpetual exile;- and the next, ignominiously entreat his forgiveness and deprecate his resentment.  The senate-who, before
his condemnation, alarmed at what they thought  stretch of power
in the people, would have done every thing to save him, yet, sentence being once passed, conscious that the honor of the republic
was her most valuable possession, which no danger ought to compel its guardians to betray-could by no entreaties be swayed to
make concessions to a rebel in arms against his country.  While
such were the sentiments of her chief magistrates, Rome, weak
and defenceless as we are told she was, continues still to command
respect and admiration.
Historians are not agreed as to the fate of Coriolanus- a circumstance which renders the whole of his history more suspicious.
According to some authors, he was assassinated by the Volscians,
in revenge-for his defection; according to others, he languished
out his days among them in melancholy obscurity.  It has never
been asserted seriously that he returned to Rome.
The dissensions between the orders with which the Roman
republic was destined to be for ever embroiled, were now rekindled
from a new cause of controversy.  This was an agrarian law, a
measure proposed at first by Cassius, one of the consuls, from
motives of selfish ambition. He aimed at nothing less than supreme
power; and he proposed this measure of an equal partition of all
the lands which had been at any time won from the enemy, as the
most probable means of acquiring the favor of the people.. But he
was too precipitate;'his views were suspected, and the tribunes
gave the alarm. They could not bear that popular measures should
be proposed by any but themselves; they adopted the scheme of
Cassius; but persuaded the people that what was an interested
measure upon his part, they were determined to prosecute for the
ipublic good




324                  UNIVE RSAL HISTORY.,           [IBOOK III,
The senate, jealous of the tribunes, and sufficiently aware ol
the views of Cassius, were resolved themselves to preoccupy the
ground.  They passed a decree that an inquiry should be made
as to those conquered lands which had at any time been adjudged
to belong to the public; that a part should be reserved for the common pasturage of cattle, and that the rest should be distributted to
such of the plebeians as had either no lands, or but a small proportion.  Yet this was all a piece of artifice on the part of the higher
orders. They had no mind that this decree should ever be carried
into effect.  They subjoined to it a clause that the consoles designati, or those who were next year to enter upon that office, should
name decemviri for making the necessary investigation and following
forth the decree.
This measure of an agrarian laza we shall observe, from this
time forward, to be a source of domestic dissensions, down to the
very end of the commonwealth.  Cassius was the first proposer
of it, and it cost him his life.  His office of consul was no sooner
at an end, than he was solemnly accused of aspiring at royalty;
and, by sentence of the popular assembly, be was thrown from
the Tarpeian Rock, the usual punishment of treason.  Soon afterwards, Menius, one of the tribunes, brought on the consideration
of the law.  He called on the.consuls to nominate the decemviri,
and on their refusal, he opposed the levies which the consuls ha6
ordered to be made on account of a war with the IXqui and Volsci.
The consuls adopted a very violent procedure: they quitted the
city, and established their tribunal without the jurisdiction of the
tribunes.  Thither they summoned the people to attend them,
and to give up their names to be enrolled. They refused to
obey; on which the consuls ordered their lands to be ravaged,
and their flocks carried off.  This had its desired effect; but so
violent a measure was never again attempted.. A more sure and
less dangerous expedient was afterwards followed, which was, to
divide the tribunes.  One tribune could, by his veto, oppose or
suspend any decree; but if another opposed him, the veto was of
no effect.  Icilius, one of the tribunes, having opposed the form
ing of the levies, his four colleagues, gained over by the senate,
took the opposite side; and it was therefore agreed that the consideration of the agrarian law should be postponed till the terminal
tion of the war.
When that period arrived, the contest was again renewed.
The tribunes brought on the consideration of the law; they demanded why the last consuls had not named decemviri; and they
even pretended to call them to account and to punish them for
this omission.  Genucius, a tribune, summoned the consuls of the
current year to execute the decree which had been so long neglected.  They refused, on pretence that a decree of the senate,
when not executed by those consuls to whom'it was directed,
was held to be abrogated. G enucius then summoned the consuls'




OcR. Itv.]                 VOLERO.                        325
of the preceding year to answer for their conduct, and vowed, as
is said, that he would prosecute them to his latest breath.  They
took care that he should keep his word, for the next day he was
found dead in his bed.  The people were made to regard this as
a judgment of the gods, who thus expressed their disapprobation
of the schemes of this factious tribune; and his colleagues were
intimidated for some time from prosecuting his views; not less,
perhaps, from the apprehension of human than of divine vengeance.
The consuls and senate, trusting to the effect of tfiis example,
assumed a more rigid authority, and the levies were made with
severe exactness. Among those whom the consuls had enrolled
as a common soldier, was a plebeian named Volero, who, in a
former campaign, had been a centurion, and was esteemed a good
officer. He complained of the injustice done him in thus degrading him, and refused to obey.  The consuls ordered him to be
scourged, from which sentence he appealed to the people.  One
of the consular lictors endeavoring to arrest him was beaten off;
and the people, tumultuously taking his part, broke the fasces and
drove the consuls out of the forum.  The senate was immediately assembled, and the consuls demanded that Volero should be
thrown from the Tarpeian Rock.  The plebeians, on the other
hand, called for justice against the consuls for a breach of the
Valerian law, in disregarding Volero's appeal to the people; and
the contest lasted till the election of the annual magistrates, when
Volero was chosen one of the tribunes. The person of a tribune
was sacred, and that of a consul, when out of office, was not so;
but Volero did not choose to limit his vengeance to the two consuls; the whole senate was the object of his resentment, and he
resolved to strike a blow which they should never recover.
The election of the tribunes of the people had hitherto been
held in the comitia curiata.  Volero urged that as these comitia
could not be summoned but by a decree of the senate, that body
might, on various pretences, postpone or refuse to summon them;
that the previous ceremony of consulting the auspices was necessary, and these the priests, who were the augurs, could interpret
in any manner they-chose; and that, lastly, it was always held
necessary that whatever was done in those assemblies should be
confirmed by a decree of the senate.  He represented all these
formalities as being nothing else than restrictions imposed by the
senate on the popular deliberations-and proposed that henceforth
the magistrates of the people should be chosen in the comitia
called by tribes, which were exempt from all those restraints.
The senate, by throkving difficulties in the way, found means to
retard for some time the passing of a law so fatal to their power;
but their opposition was in the main ineffectual; for it passed at
last, and with this remarkable addition, that all questions, in which
the affairs of the people were agitated, should henceforward be
debated in the comitia tribvs,.




326                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [yot0K Ill
This famous law of Volero completed the change in the constltution of the Roman Republic., The supreme authority from
this time may be considered as having passed from the higher
orders into the hands of the people.  The consuls conti!uAd to
preside in the comitia held by centuries; but the tribunes presided
in those assemblies in which the most important business of the
commonwealth was now  transacted.  The senate retailed, however, a considerable degree of power. They had the disposal of
the public money; they sent and received ambassadors,-made
treaties-and their decrees had the force of a law while not annulled by a decree of the people.  In a word, this body continued to
have respect, and at least the appearance of authority, which we
shall observe to have yet its effect in frequently restraining the
violence of the popular measures. The consuls too, though in
most points of effective power and authority subordinate to the
tribunes, had yet in some particulars a vestige of supremacy.
They were absolute at the head of the army, and first in command
in the civil authority within the city.  Their office still carried
with it that external show  of dignity which commands respect
and submission, and which, over the minds of the vulgar, is frequently attended with the same influence as substantial power.
CHAPTER V.
An Agrarian Law never seriously projected - Decemviri proposed to digest a
Code of Laws - Cincinnatus — Appointment of Decemnvirs - Laws of the
Twelve Tables —'Tyranny of the Decemvirs -Infamous conduct of Appius
Claudius-Death of Virginia-Abolition of the Decemvirate.
THE People having now attained so very considerable an increase
of authority, might certainly have prevailed in obtaining the favorite
measure of an agrarian law. But the truth is, this measure was
nothing more than a political engine, occasionally -employed by
the popular magistrates for exciting commotions, and weakening
the power of the patricians.  It was a measure attended necessarily with so much difficulty in the execution, that few even of the
people themselves had a sincere desire of seeing it accomplished.
The extensive disorder it must have introduced in the territorial
possessions of the citizens, by a new distribution of all the lands
acquired by conquest to the republic since the time of Romulus



iH. V.]                DECE1MVIRI PROPOSED.                    327,
the affection which even the poorest feel for a small patrimonial
inheritance, the place of their nativity, and the repository of the
bones of their forefathers-and that most admirable and most salutary persuasion that it is an act of impiety to alter or remove ancient
landmarks*ls   all these were such strong obstacles to the accomplishment of that design, that it could never be seriously expected
that the measure would meet with that effectual support which
was necessary to carry it into execution.
Tile tribunes, well aware of those difficulties, and fearing that
from  too frequent repetition the proposal would become at length
so stale as to produce no useful effect, bethought themselves of a
new topic to keep alive the spirits of the people, and to foment
those dissensions which increased their own power and diminished
that of the patricians.
The Romans had at this time no body of civil laws.  Those
few which they had, were only known to the senate and patricians,
who interpretet them according to their pleasure, and as best;uited their purposes.  Under the regal government, the kings
alone administered justice: the consuls succeeded to this part of
the royal prerogative, so that they had, in fact, the disposal of the
fortunes' of all the citizens.  Terentius, or Terentillus, one of the
tribunes, in an assembly of the people, after a violent declamation
on public grievances of all kinds, and particularly on that dreadful
circumstance of the lot of the plebeians, that in all contests with
patricians they were sure to suffer, as the latter were both judges
and parties, proposed that, in order to remedy this great evil, ten
commissioners, or decemviri, should be appointed to frame and digest a new body of laws, for defining and securing the rights of all
the different orders,-a system of jurisprudence binding alike on
consuls, senators, patricians, and plebeians.
This proposition, having essential justice and good policy for its
foundation, was received by the people with loud applause.  It
had been prudent in the higher orders to have given it no opposition, as in reality no solid objection could be made to it.  But
there  vas always a party in the senate who made it a settled principle to oppose every thing which was either beneficial or grateful
to the people; as in imost factions, the conduct of the different
partisans is influenced less by considerations either of political expediency or moral rectitude, than by an uniform purpose of abasing
and mortifying their antagonists.
The proposal, therefore, met with opposition; and the conse* The ingenious fable related by Ovid, Fast. lib. ii. v. 667, is a proof of this
prevalent belief. The purport is, that when the capitol was founded in honor
of Jupiter, all the other gods consenting to retire and abandon their right in
the place, the god l'erminus alone refused and kept his post. The moral drawn
is, that what Jupiter himself could not remove, should yield to no human will
or power.




328                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK ]]1i
quence was, that the people, regardless of the previous formality
of a decree of the senate, passed the law of Terentius in an assembly of the tribes.  The senators protested against this as a most
presumptuous and unconstitutional innovation.  The law of Volero,
it is true, which allowed all questions regarding the popular interest
to be deliberated on in the comitia tributa, seemed in effect to
confer on the assembly of the people so held, the right of legislation; but the exercise of such a right, immediately and originally
in the people, had been hitherto without example.  The patriclans, too, might have urged with justice, that if they were not
allowed to have the right of making laws to bind the plebeians
without their consent, neither could the plebeians possess a similar
right to bind the patricians. Influenced by such considerations,
some young men of the patrician order, headed by Caeso Quintius,
the son of L. Quintius Cincinnatus, burst in arms into the mnidst
of the comitia, and beating down all before them, dispersed the
assembly.  For this offence Ctso was banished by a decree of the
people.
These intestine disorders, which persuaded the enemies of Rome
of her general weakness, induced the Sabines to form a design of
surprising and taking possession of the city.  A body of 4000
men entered Rome during the night, seized upon the capitol, and
invited all such citizens as were oppressed by the tyranny of their
superiors to join them and vindicate their freedom. A great proportiot of the people actually deliberated on this proposal: so true
it is that the factions of a state never fail to extinguish the patriotic
spirit; thus developing the true spring of most popular convul
sions, a selfish thirst of plunder to be gratified in the overthrow of
all legal authority.  The senate ordered the people to arms; and
the tribunes countermanded that order, declaring that, unless the
consuls should immediately agree to the nomination of commissioners for the laws, they were determined to submit without
resistance to the dominion of the Sabines.  Publius Valerius, one
of the consuls, pledged himself to the people for the performance
of this condition; and the people, now taking arms, attacked and
cut to pieces the Sabine army.  But Valerius unfortunately fell in
the engagement, and his colleague, having come under no obligation, refused to comply with the popular desire. A successor was
chosen to Valerius iri the consulate, L. Quintius Cincinnatus, a
man of great resolution and intrepidity, who, though himself so
indigent as to cultivate with his own hands his paternal fields, and
to be called from the plough to put on the robe of the consul, had
yet the high spirit of an ancient patrician, which was ill disposed
to brook the insolence of the popular magistrates, or acquiesce in
the daily increasing pretensions of the inferior order.
Cincinnatus took a new method to bring the people to submission. He declared to the soldiers-who were yet bound by their
sacramentum, or oath of enrolment-that he intended to carry on




CH. V.]                  CINCINNATUS.                      329
the war against the 2Eqt i and Volsci, and that, for taat purpose,
they should winter under their tents; that he was determined not
to return to Rome ti2 the expiration of his consulate, at which time
he would nominate a dictator, to secure the continuance of good
order and tranquillity.
The people, who, in all their military expeditions, had never
been above a few weeks at a time under arms, were thunderstruck
when they heard of a winter campaign.  The relinquishment of
their fanlilies, and the neglect of their lands, which must necessarily be followed by a famine, were considerations most seriously
alarming. They now inveighed bitterly against their tribunes who
had brought matters to this extremity, and even made a proposal
to the senate, agreeing to drop the Terentian law altogether, provided that body should prevail on the consul to depart from his purpose.  On that condition, Cincinnatus consented to postpone the
war, and the consequence was, that during his consulate every thing
was tranquil, and the equity of his administration made the want of
laws be for a time entirely forgotten.
Two years afterwards, the republic owed her preservation to the
same Cincinnatus. The AEqui had surrounded a consular army,
and reduced it to extremity.  Cincinnatus was chosen dictator: he
defeated the enemy, and compelling them to lay down their arms,
made their whole army pass naked under the yoke. In reward of
this signal service he was honored with a triumph; his son Caeso
was recalled from banishment, and he abdicated his dictatorship
within seventeen days.
But this opposition to the strong will of the people produced
only a temporary obstruction to the force of a stream whose current
was irresistible.  It was the care of the tribunes perpetually to
present to the minds of the populace some new object to be
attained; and they now proposed that such part of the,/ventine.Jlount as remained unoccupied by. individual proprietors should be
distribulted among the poorer citizens. The consuls having delayed
to propose this matter in the senate, Icilius, one of the tribunes,
sent his apparitor to summon the consuls to convoke that assembly
for the purpose in view.  The consuls might have contemned this
presumptuous summons, and so made the tribune sink under the
consequence of an abortive stretch of authority, which had no support in established right or usage; but they were imprudent enough
to cause their lictors to strike the apparitor with his fasces.  This
was a violation of the sacred character and office of the tribunes.
The lictor was arrested-the senate met to allay the disturbance.
It was a small matter that the people obtained their request of the
Aventine Mount; but the serious and deepfelt consequence of this
affair was, that from that moment the tribunes-they who were
wont to sit at the door of the senate-house till called in by the
consuls —now claimed and acquired a right of convoking that assembly at their pleasure.
VOL. I.               42




330                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               LBOOK III'
The tribunes had this advantage over all the other magistrates,
that they could be continued in office as long as the people chose.
Icilius had now been tribune for six successive years; when, emboldened by repeated experiments of his power, he attempted to
subject the consuls to the tribunal of the people.  A tumult having
arisen on account of the levies, Icilius ordered the consuls to be
carried to prison, for having seized some of the plebeians whom
he wished to protect from enrolment.  The patricians flew among
the crowd, and drove back the tribunes and their attendants.
Icilius hereupon accused the consuls of having committed sacrilege
against the tribunes, and insisted that the senate should oblige
them lo appear before the people in the Comitiac, and submit to
whatever penalty the latter should deem  proper to inflict.  This
bold enterprise might have succeeded, had it been possible to keep
alive the same ardor with which the people seemed at first to be
animated; but reflection having time to operate, the people stil.
felt a degree of reverence for the first mnagistrates of the state,
which made them look upon this as a species of rebellion.  Icilius
very soon perceived this change in their disposition, and was prudent enough to hnake a merit of sacrificing his resentment to the
public tranquillity.   To support his power, which might have
suffered from  the defeat of this bold attempt, he resumed the subject of the Terentian law, and insisted for an immediate nomination
of decemvirs. After some fruitless essays of opposition by the
patricians, which, as usual, ended to their disadvantage, the senate
was at length forced to acquiesce in the measure.  Deputies are
said to have been sent into Greece to obtain accurate information
as to the constitutions of the several republics, and particularly to
form a collection of the laws of Solon.  These, it is said, returned
after a year's absence; and it was then agreed to create decemviri,
to frame and digest such ordinances as they should judge most
proper for the Roman commonwealth.* It was thought necessary that these magistrates should, for one year, be invested with
sovereign power; during which time, all other magistracies, even
the tribunate, which used to subsist during the dictatorship, should
cease; and that they alone should have the power of making peace
and war.  They were to be restrained only in one article —that
they should not abolish the sacred laws; that is, those which had
been made in favor of the plebeians.
Menenius, the consul, in order to create some obstacle to the
conclusion of this important measure, proposed that the decemvirs
should be nam'ed by the consuls of the succeeding year, and this
*The testimonies for this embassy into Greece are Livy -and Dionysius of
Halicarnassus; but the silence of all the Greek writers with regard to this
remarkable deputation creates a suspicion of the fact being void of foundation
nor is there any such resemblance betweeen the laws of Solon and those of the
XII Tables as to countenance this popular story.




CtH. V.]              DECEMVIRI CHOSEN.                    331
being agreed to, the patricians took care that the consuls should
be such as were believed to have nd favorable disposition towards
the popular cause. Appius Claudius and Titus Genucius, were
elected consuls.  But Appius disappointed the expectations of his
party; for, instead of opposing the creation of decemvirs, he solicited that office.  He offered, for himself and his colleague, to
renounce the consulship, and proposed, in order to remove all
grievances, that the same laws should be enacted for patricians
and plebeians. The people now applauded Appius to the skies.
The comitia were called by centuries, a circumstance which confined the office to the order of the patricians.  Appius Claudius
and his colleague were first nominated, and the remaining eight
were; like, them, senators and consular persons.  The people expected a great deal from the professions of Appius; and the
senate was pleased in thinking that his ambition would find a strong
restraint from the opposition of his colleagues.
Thus, the earnest desire of the people was, at length, gratified
by the creation of the decemviri.  But ever impatient of their
present situation, and prone to imagine advantages in every change,
the populace seldom looks forward to the natural consequences of
the innovations which they long for.  We shall see how soon they
began to reap the bitter fruits of obtaining their desire.  It is
somewhat difficult to account for the active part taken by the tribunes in the creation of this new magistracy; a dignity and power
which was to supersede and extinguish their own.  It is not improbable, that the part which they took in this matter proceeded
from no' other motive than the general policy of fomenting animosities between the orders, which they found most frequently
gave occasion to an extension of their own power and influence;
that they never seriously expected to obtain their demand; and
were, indeed, mortified at their own success. But what is most
surprising is the cordial concurrence latterly shown, by both the
orders, in vesting those new magistrates with such plenitude of
power, as furnished them with the means they actually made use
of, to annihilate all authority but their own, and render their office
perpetual.
The decemvirs, in the first year of their magistracy, labored
with much assiduity in the compilation of the laws. And when
their work was completed, they divided these, at first into ten, and
afterwards into twoelve tables.  Of these Laws of the Twelve Tables, of which the name is illustrious, it is necessary to give some
account, and df the sources from which it is probable they were
compiled.
During the time of the regal government at Rome, we know
very little of what was the state of the laws.  In all probability,
these were nothing else than a few regulations, called forth by
the exigence of circumstances, and suggested by the particular
cases which came before the judicial tribunals.  A large mass of




332                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK III
rules might thus be accumulated; but these, being framed on, no
general principles, would often, in their application to new cases,
be found to err against material justice. No application of reason
or philosophy had ever been made to the discovery of legal principles; for every rule was only the decision of an individual judge,
according to what appeared just and equitable in the case before
him.  It has been a question agitated between the partisans of
the popular cause and the advocates for the extension of the powers
of monarchy, whether the kings of Rome were absolute, both in
their legislative and ministerial capacity; or whether, in order to
ratify such laws as they had the right of suggesting and proposing,
it was necessary to obtain the consent and sanction of the people.
In a question, to which, from the uncertainty of all that regards
the early history of the Romans, it is not possible to give a positive answer, and where the opinions of historians are nothing more
than their own conjectures, we may be allowed, like them, to reason according to what appears most probable.  Since, therefore,
it is a certain fact, that the regal dignity itself was elective, and
that the choice lay in the people, it seems a natural presumption,
that the people, acquiring and retaining so important a right,
would not have abandoned every other article of their power or
consequence.  At the same time, it must be owned, that the right
of electing the kings does not appear to have been a conventional
prerogative of the people; but to have been, probably, the consequence of the first king's dying a violent death, without leaving
children,-a circumstance which must necessarily have occasioned
an election to the vacant office. But be this as it may, it is certainly
probable, that the people who elected the official lawgiver would
likewise assume or reserve to themselves some restraining or controlling influence in the laws to be enacted.  The kings, we therefore suppose, submitted to the consideration of the people, in the
comitia, those laws which they were disirous of enacting, and took
their sense by the majority of suffrages.
These laws, after the expulsion of the Tarquins, were collected
into one body by Papirius, or Papisius, a patrician; and from
him  took the name of Jus Civile Papirianum, or Papisianum.
But in the beginning of the commonwealth, such was considered
to be the imperfection of this code and its want of authority, that
it fell entirely into neglect, and all judicial proceedings were regulated either by custom or the opinions of individual magistrates.
In this situation the want of a regular system of jurisprudence,
which should be a standard of procedure to all th6 judges, and a
known and fixed rule of conduct for the people, began to be universally felt.  Commissioners, as we have seen, were at length
appointed to frame and digest such a code.
The Decemviri engrossed in their collection several of the
ancient laws of the kings.  They retained likewise all the more
recenV laws which had been passed in favor of the people, as that




CH. V.]           LAWS OF THE TWELVE TABLES.                     333
was a condition stipulated at the time of their appointment td officeand on the report of the deputies said to have been sent into Greece
for collecting the laws of the different republics, they borrowed
from them such as they judged most suitable to the Roman constitution.  These laws, after being exposed for a certain time in
the forum, and submitted to the judgment of the people, who it
does not appear nmade any alteration in them, were engraven on
ten tables of brass, to which two others were added a short time
afterwards.  These Twelve Tables became the basis of the Roman
jurisprudence. Livy remarks, that in his time, amidst the infinite
number of additional laws, these continued to possess the greatest
authority.  And Cicero, speaking of the Twelve Tables, gives
them the highest encomium, affirming that they throw great light
on the manners and customs of ancient times, and contain more
wisdom  than the libraries of all the philosophers.*  It was, he
tells us, a common practice for the youth to commit these laws to
memory.
The laws of the Twelve Tables were classed in the following
order.  The first table enacted the form  of judicial proceedings
before the several tribunals. In the second were classed the laws
regarding theft, breach of trust, and robbery. The third treated
of debtors and creditors; the fourth of the patria potestas, or
powers which a father had over his children; the fifth of inheritances and guardianships; the sixth contained the laws regarding
property and possession; the seventh related to the punishment
of different crimes and delicts; the eighth contained regulations
regarding land estates, public roads, boundaries, and plantations;
the ninth related to the privileges of the people, or the rights of
Roman  citizens; the tenth contained the regulation  of funerals;
the eleventh treated of religion and the worship of the gods; and
the twelfth enacted regulations regarding marriage, and the rights
of husbands and wives.t
This digest of jurisprudence gave, on the whole, great satisfaction to all ranks of men; but among the statutes of the last table
was one law most impolitic in the present situation of affairs, and
*Plurima, inquit Crassus, est in XII Tabulis antiquitatis effigies; quod et
verborum prisca vetustas cognoscitur, et actionum  genera quwdam majorum
consuetudinem vitamque declarant: Sive quis civilem scientiam contempletur,
quam Scevola non putat oratoris esse propriam, sed cujusdam ex alio genere
prudentir, totam hanc descriptis omnibus civitatis utilitatibus, ac partibus, XII
Tabulis contineri videbitis: sive quem ista proepotens et gloriosa philosophia
delectat (dicam audacius,) hosce habet fontes omnium disputationum suarum,
qui jure civili et legibus continentur.-Fremant licet omnes, dicam quod sentio:
Bibliothecas, meherciile, onnium philosophorum unus inihi videtur XII Tabu,
larum libellus, si quis lergum fontes, et capita viderit, et auctoritatis pondere,
et utilitatis ubertate superare.-Cicero de, Oratore, lib. i.
t A brief analysis of the laws of the Twelve Tables, and a very perspicuous
commentary on their imn -rt, is to be found in Rosini, Antiq. Rom., Dempsteri
lib. viii.




334                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK III
which produced accordingly all that rancor -and animosity between
the orders, which might have been expected.  This was a law
prohibiting all intermarriage between the patricians and plebeians
-a law  which the inferior order could not help regarding as a
mark of infamy and scorn.  It was naturally felt as such, and the
popular magistrates were not remiss in cherishing and exaggerating
that impression on the minds of the people.  It gave rise to a keen
and animated debate in the Comitia, which Livy has minutely
detailed in the fourth book. of his history.  The speech of the
tribune Canuleius, on that occasion, though doubtless owing its
principal merit to the talents of the historian, is a noble specimen
of eloquence, and of that judicious intermixture of argument and
irony which is peculiarly suited to a popular assembly.  The law
itself, though carried at the time, and engrossed among those of
the Twelve Tables, was not of long duration. It was, in fact,
the very first which the people, in their daily advancing progress
to an equality of rights with the higher order, prevailed to have
abrogated.
Thus we observe the Roman jurisprudence confined at first
within very narrow  bounds; a circumstance which necessarily
gave great latitude to judges in the power of interpreting the
statutes; and the inapplicability of these to the endless variety of
cases must, of course, have greatly fomented the spirit of litigation.
One admirable law, however, to be found in those tables, was the
best antidote that could be devised for this enormous evil.  This
was an enactment, that all causes should be heard and determined
in one day, between sunrise and sunset. This was a powerful
restraint on every species of judicial chicanery, and operated as
the best remedy against that delay, the worst of grievances, which
often makes injustice itself more tolerable than the means of obtaining its redress.
From  the laws of the Twelve Tables, the Jurisconsulti composed a system of forms and rules, by which the processes in the
courts were conducted.  The number of the laws was likewise
increased, from  time to time, by the Plebiscita and Senatus consulta; the former made by the people, without the authority of
tJie senate, in the Comitia tributa; the latter enacted by the sole
authority of the senate.  To these we may add the laws framed
by the authority of the prceiors, after the institution of.that magistracy, which was near a century posterior to. the creation of the
decemvirs.  But of those different materials which composed the
body of the Roman law, it is not necessary here to treat with
greater amplitude.
The decemviri, like most men new in office, conducted themselves at first with much -wisdom  and moderation: each of them
by turns presided as chief magistrate of the state, during a single
day, having the fasces carried before him in token of sovereign
power.  The nine others had no other distinguishing symbol than




c. v.]                 t APPIUS CLAUDIUS.                  335
a single officer who preceded them, called a.ccensus.  The presiding nmagisutae  assembled the senate, took their advice, and carried into extccution the result of their joint determination in the
ordinary busine;s of the commonwealth, but the whole decemviri
applied with equal diligence to the  administration  of justice.
They met every morning in the forum, to give audience to all
complaints and processes.  They seemed to be animated solely
by the desire of maintaining public order; nor was there any
symptoms of jealousy or party spirit. Even Appius Claudius,
whom his colleagues seem  to have regarded as the first in rank,
affected no superiority.  His conductacquired him high popularity;
and while he rendered impartial justice to those of every rank and
station, he behaved with gentleness and courtesy to the meanest
citizen.  We shall presently see the purpose of this ambitious
man.
The term  of administration of the new magistrates had almost
expired, when it was found necessary to make a supplement to
the laws, of two additional tables.  For that ostensible purpose,
but more probably from the desire of preventing the election of
tribunes, the senate decreed that there should be a new appointment of decermviri. The people, who were equally pleased to
be relieved from the consular government, as the patricians from
the tribunate, approved of the measure.  Several senators aspired
to the new office; while the artful Appius, with a show of modesty,
affected to decline it.  He was, therefore, chosen to preside at,the election of the new decemviri, and thus entitled to give the
first suffrage.  To the surprise of all, he named himself, and suggested six others of the patrician order, and three of the plebeian.
Such was the popularity he had acquired, and such the satisfaction
of the people, in being admitted to a share in this important and
honorable office, that his nomination was received with loud applauses, and immediately agreed to; however displeasing we may
presume it was to those of the higher order, who either envied
the power, or penetrated into the ambitious designs of this artfui man.
The colleagues whom Appius had named for himself were all
men devoted to his interest, and, therefore, they followed an uniform system of measures.  Resolved to retain their office for life,
they determined no more to assemble either the Senate or the
Comitia, but, in virtue of the plenary powers annexed to their
office, to cut off all appeal-to support jointly the separate measures and decrees of each —and thus to perpetuate in their own
persons a sovereign, absolute, and uncontrolled authority.  This
bold purpose, or at least the measures adopted for its accomplishment, it seems extremely difficult to reconcile to common prudence.
All approaches to tyranny, if planned by wisdom, are gradual;
and it is nothing less than madness in a magistrate to proclaim a
purpose of tvrannizmlt upon his first entering upon office.




.336                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK III
But, whatever we may judge of the designs of these decemvirs,
it is certain that they endeavored to maintain their authority by
extreme violence, and as certain that they became almost immediately the objects of public indignation.  From their first appearance in the forum, they were preceded, by twelve lictors, who
constantly carried the fasces armed with axes.  Their suite was
commonly composed of a number. of the most licentious patricians;
profligates loaded with debt or stained with crimes; men whose
pleasure lay in every species of disorder, and who contributed a
desperate aid to those ministers whose power protected them in
their lawless excesses.
Such was the miserable situation of Rome under her new governors, that many of the principal citizens betook themselves for
refibge to the allied states.  It was no wonder that the XEqui and.Volsci, those perpetual enemies of the Romans, should judge this
a favorable season for an attack upon the territory of the republic.
In this emergency, the decemviri became sensible of their want of
that substantial power which is founded on popularity; they were
obliged tbo convoke the senate, and thus acknowledge the necessity
of a decree of that body before a single citizen would enter the
rolls.  By the senate's decree, three bodies of troops were raised;
two marched against the enelny, an; with them eight of the
decemvirs. Appius and one of his colleagues retained the other
body in Rome, for the defence of the city and the support of their
own authority, which an outrage of the most flagrant nature was
now very speedily to bring to its termination.
Appius, sitting in judgment in his tribunal, had cast his eyes
upon a young woman of uncommon beauty, who daily passed
through the forum, in her way to the public schools.  Virginia, a
maiden of fifteen years of age, was the -daughter of a plebeian, a
centurion, at that time absent with the army.  Appius had been
informed of her situation: she was betrothed to Icilius, formerly
one of the' tribunes, then serving against the enemy; and their
marriage was to be celebrated as soon as the campaign was at air
end; an obstacle which served only to increase the passion of this
flagitious magistrate, who determined, at all hazards, to secure
her as his prey.  After many fruitless attempts to corrupt the
fidelity of those domestics to whom Virginius had left the charge
of his daughter, (for she had lost her mother,) Appius devised a
scheme which he thought could not fail to put Virginia entirely
within his power.  He employed Marcus Claudius, one of his
dependents, a infamous and shameless man, to claim  the young
woman as his own property.  Marcus pretended that she was the
daughter of one of his female slaves, who had sold her when an
infant to the wife of Virginius, who had no children.  Hle therefore pretended to reclaim what was his own, and attempted by
force to carry her home to his house.  The people interposed
with great earnestness to protect the young woman; and Marcus,




C-I. v.j              APPIUS AND ViRGINIA.                 337
declaring that he meant nothing but what was just and lawful,
brought his claim before the tribunal of the decemvir.  Numitorius,
the uncle of Virginia, represented that her father, the -guardian and
protector of his child, was at this time absent, and in arms for the
defence of his country..  He asked a delay only of two days, in
order to send for him  from the camp, and demanded, in the mean
time, that, as her nearest relation, the damsel should be committed
to his care.  The decemvir, with the show  of much candor,
allowed that there was great equity in the request of sending for
Virinius, which lie therefore immediately granted, but urged  at
the same time that this delay ought not to be prejudicial to the
right of a master, who claimed his slave.  He therefore decreed
that Marcus should take the young woman to his house, on giving
security to produce her upon the return of her father.  The flagranf injustice of this decree excited a cry of universal indignation.
Marcus, advancing to lay hold of Virginia, was repulsed by the
people, and particularly by Icilius, her intended husband, who,
being apprized of the affair, had flown in rage and distraction to
the forum. The tumult became'-so violent, that Appius, alarmed
for his own safety, thought proper to suspend the execution of his
decree, and to allow the young woman to remain under the piotection of her friends till the arrival of her father.  He despatched,
in the meantime, a messenger to the army, desiring that his colleagues would on no account permit,Virginius to quit the camp.
But this unfortunate man, whom his friends had found means to
inform of the situation of his child, was already on his way. He
got to Rome without hindrance, and, to the confusion of the
decemvir, appeared next day in the forum, supporting in his arms
his daughter drowned in tears.  An immense crowd attended;
and all awaited the issue of this interesting question, their breasts
alternately agitated with fear, with compassion, and indignation.
Appius, determined to prosecute his purpose, hatl ordered the
troops to surround the forum.  He now called on Marcus to make
ihis demand, and to produce the proofs' of his claim.  To these
Virginius was at no loss to give the most satisfactory answers, which
fully exposed the villany of the imposture.  Appius was not to
be thus foiled.  With the most unparalleled effrontery, he stood
forth as a witness as well as a judge; -declaring that it was consistent with his own knowledge that the plea of Marcus was true.
He therefore gave his final'sentence, that' the slave' should be
delivered up to her lawful master,, and ordered his officers to
enforce, without delay, the execution of his decree.  The soldiers
were removing the crowd, and Marcus, together with the lictors,
was advancing to seize Virginia, who clung for protection around
the neck of her father.  " There is,"'said he, "but one way, my
dear child, to save thy honor and preserve thy liberty."  Then
seizing a knife from  the stall of a butcher —t Thus," said he,
striking her to the heart, " thus, I send thee to thy forefathers, unVOL. I.                  43




338                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK III
polluted and a free woman.'  Then turning to the tribunal of
Appius, "' Thou monster!" cried he, "'with this blood I devote
thy head to the infernal gods!"  Appius, in a transport of rage,
called out to the lictors to seize Virginius; but he, rushing out
from the forum, and making way for himself with the knife which
he held in his hand, while the multitude favored his escape, got
safe without the city, and arrived in a few hours at th'e camp.
Meantime Nurnitorius and Icilius exposed the bleeding body to
the sight of the whole people, who, inflamed to the highest pitch
of fury, would have torn Appius to pieces, had he not found means
to escape amidst the tumult, and to conceal himself in the house
of one of his friends.
Valerius and iHoratius, two of the senators, men of consular
dignity, andowho had opposed the last creation of decemviri, now
put themselves at the head of the people.  They promised them
the redress of all their wrongs, and the abolition of those hatec
magistrates; but urged that they should first wait the resolution
of the army, which could not fail to coincide with their own.
The unfortunate Virginius had no sooner acquainted his fellowsoldiers of what had happened, than there was a general insurrection.  Without regard to the orders of the decemvirs in the camp,
the whole army, headed by their centurions, marched to Rome,
and, retiring to the Aventine mount, chose ten leaders, with the
title of military tribunes.  They then declared their determined
purpose of abolishing the decemvirate, and reestablishing the consular government, together with the tribunes of the people.  The
senate was assembled.  The decemvirs thought proper voluntarily
to resign their office. Valerius and Horatius were chosen consuls;
and the popular magistrates, the tribunes, were elected with the
same powers as formerly, which reinstated the people at once in
all their rights and privileges.
Among the*tribunes first chosen were Virginius, Icilius, and
Numitorius.  It may be believed that their vengeance against the
infamous Appius was not long delayed.  Virginius cited him
before the people, at whose orders he was seized and thrown into
prison, where, a few days after, he was found dead.  It was suspected, says Dionysius, that he was privately strangled by order
of the tribunes; but other authors, with more probability, affirm
that he chose to escape a certain and ignominious fate by a voluntary death.' His colleague Oppius, the chief abettor of his crimes,
had the same catastrophe, and the rest underwent a voluntary
banishment, while their goods were forfeited to the public use.
Such is the history of the decemvirate, that inauspicious and shortA
lived magistracy, which was thus violently terminated in the third
year after its institution.*
* An amusing comparison may be made of the talents of the two great b.



VEa. VIol  PATRICIANS AND PLEBEIANS.-INTERMARRIAGE.               339
CHAPTER VI.
Law against intermarriage of Patricians and Plebeians repealed- Military Tri
bunes created —Creation of Censors-Their high powers of office-A regular
pay assigned to the Army introduces a new balance into the Constitution —
Consequences of-Siege of Veii —Rlomans begin to extend their conquestsReflections on the state of the Republic at this period-War with the Gauls
-Its fabulous aspect-New popular Laws-Institution of the office of Prator,
-of Questor-of Adile-Licinian law limiting property in land
No sooner was tranquillity in some measure reestablished in the
city of Rome, than the  consuls Valerius and Horatius, at-the
head of a large army, animated with the spirit of patriotism which
the  late events had  strongly  stimulated, marched  against the
enemy.  The Volsci and Aqui sustained a complete defeat; but
the senate, jealous, as is said, of the  too great popularity of the
successful generals, thought proper to refuse them the honors of
a triumph.  The consuls, indignant at this insult, applied to the
people, who unanimously decreed them  this reward of their services.  Thus the senate most imprudently threw  away its privileges; and every day gave some new accession of weight to the
scale of the people.
Two powerful barriers which at this time subsisted between the
patricians and plebeians, were the law  which prevented the intermarriage of these orders, and another ordinance which excluded
the plebeians from the consulate and higher offices- of the state.
It was only necessary to remove these two obstructions, to bring
the separate ranks to a perfect equality in every substantial privilege of Romnan citizens; and the plebeians were determined to
leave no means untried for the accomplishment of this end.
On the occasion of a new war, the ordinary device was practised
of refusing to enter the rolls.  In this purpose the people were
torians of the Roman republic, Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus, in the'
accounts they have given of that celebrated event, the death of Virginia by the
hand of her father, and its important consequences. In Livy, we have a concise, clear, and animated narrative, where no circumstance is superfluous, no
observation strained or far-fetched, nor any thing omitted which contributes to
the effect of the picture. In Dionysius, we wade through a minute detail of
facts, and a laborious legal discussion, resembling the report of a law-process
in which every argument is brought forward, and every reflection anticipated,
that the mind can form upon the case. It is easy to judge which method of
writing is best adapted to historical composition. Vide Liv. lib. iii. c. 31 —59;
and Dion. Hal., Ant. Rom., lib. xi.




340                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY              L[BOOB IIl.
obstinate; and the tribunes proposed, as the only expedient to
bring them to compliance, that the law against intermarriage should
be repealed; a measure which, they urged, would be equally advantageous for both parties, as it would tend to an union of their
interests, and put an end to those perpetual jealousies and contentions which were so ruinous to the republic.
There were three different modes by which marriage could be
contracted among the Romans.  The marriages of the patricians
were celebrated in the presence of ten witnesses, and with a
variety of religious ceremontes peculiar to their order.   The
plebeians married after two different forms: the one was by a
species of sale, emptio vernditio; and the other by the simple
cohabitation of the parties for a year, which by law constituted a
marriage.  Religion, therefore, made a barrier between the patricians and plebeians in this article; and this necessarily constituted
the principal objection against the repeal of the law.  The.senate,
however, saw the necessity of some concessions; and they judged:that, by granting this request, they would put a stop to any further
claims, at least for the present.  But they were mistaken.  The
spirit of encroachment is never allayed by concession. This law
was no sooner repealed than the people, with the same obstinacy,
refused to enrol themselves till a second law was passed, admitting
them to the capacity of holding all the offices of the republic.
No measure could be more galling than this to the pride of the
patricians; but the necessity was extreme, as the enemy was at
the gates of Rome.  The senate sought a palliative to content both
parties.  It was determined to suspend for a time the office of the
consuls, and to create in their place six military tribunes, with a
similar extent of power, three of whom  should be patricians and
three plebeians.  This proposal was heartily embraced by the people, who, provided they were admitted to the chief dignity of the
state, did not value under what title it was; and the senators,
on the other hand, flattered'themselves that, having preserved
the consulship inviolate, they would soon be able to restore that
magistracy. While they were thus soothing themselves with shadowy distinctions, it was very evident that they were daily losing
substantial power.
It was customary for those who  were  candidates for any
magistracy to appear in the Comitia, clad in white apparel.
The plebeians, who aspired to the military tribunate, appeared
accordingly in that dress; but as the votes were called by centuries, and the patricians had been at some pains to influence their
dependents, it happened that not one of the plebeians was elected.
Three months afterward, the military tribunes, as had been preconcerted, resigned their office on pretence of some irregularity
in their election.  A  powerful canvass was now  set on foot by
the plebeians to make good their pretensions to the new magis



cf. VI.]                  TIlE CENSORS.                      341
tracy; but differing in their choice of candidates, and finding it
impossible to arrive at an unanimity of sentiments they consented,
rather than yield to each other, that the consulate should, in the
meantirrme, be restored; and these jealousies being artfully kept
alive by the patricians, it thus happened that there was no election
of military tribunes for several years.
War and domestic dissensions had prevented the consuls from
making the usual census or numeration of the people, for a great
many years; so that much confusion had arisen in the levying of
the taxes, from ignorance of the exact number of the citizens,
and the proportion of burdens to be levied from  individuals.  To
remedy this evil, the consuls being now usually too much occupied
to make the census regularly every five years, the senate created
two new magistrates under the title of censors; an office which
became afterwards of the highest respectability, and was given
only to persons of consular dignity.
The most important privilege of the censors, and which, in
fact, rendered their authority formidable to all ranks in the state,
was the right they possessed of inspecting the morals, and examilling into the conduct of all the citizens.  It was in virtue of
this high prerogative that, as Livy remarks, they kept in dependence both thle senate and people.  They possessed a constitutional
power of degrading such as had manifested any irregularity of
conduct, and depriving them of the rank and office which they
held in the state.  It was not an authority which extended to the
punishment of those ordinary crimes and delicts which' fall under
the penal laws of a state.  But there are offences which, in point
of example, are worse than crimes, and more pernicious in their
consequences.  It is not the breach of express laws that can ever
be of general bad effect, or tend to the destruction of a government; but it is that silent and unpunishable corruption of manners, which, undermining private and public virtue, weakens and
destroys those springs to which the best ordered constitution owes
its support.  The counteracting this latent principle of decay was
the most useful part of the office of the censors.  If any citizen
had imprudently contracted large debts; if he had consumed his
fortune in extravagance, or in living beyond his income; if he
had been negligent in the cultivation of his lands; nay, if, being
m good circumstances and able to maintain a farnily, he had declined, without just cause, to marry,-all these offences attracted
the notice of the censors, who had various modes of inflicting a
penalty.  The most usual, and not the least impressive, was a
public denunciation of the offender as an object of disapprobation-ignominicl notabant.  It did not amount to a mark of infamy;
but punished solely by inflicting the shame of a public reprimand.
A penalty, however, of this kind is not fitted to operate on all
dispositions, and accordingly the censors had it in their power to
employ means more generally effectual.  They could degrade a




342                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK ilM
senator from his dignity and strike his name out of the roll.  They
could deprive a knight of his rank, by taking firom him the horse
which was maintained for him at the public expense, and was the
essential mark of his station.  A citizen might be punished by
degrading him from his tribe to an inferior one, or doubling his
proportion of the public taxes.  These, being arbitrary powers,
might have been greatly abused; but on tile other hand, it is to,be observed, that no decree of the censors was unalterable: it
might be suspended, or altogether taken off by a sentence of the
ordinary judges, or by a decree of the censors of the succeeding
Lustrum.  Cicero tells us, that Caius Geta, who had been degraded from his rank of senator by the censors, was reinstated in
his dignity,by their successors, and even made a censor himself;
and Livy relates a similar instance of Valerius Messala.
The censorship, from these extensive powers, was accounted
the.most honorable office of the commonwealth.  From  the
time of the second Punic war, the censors were always chosen
from such persons as had held the consulship.  After the termination of the republican government, the censorship was exercised
by the emperors, and justly regarded as one of the most honorable and important branches of the imperial function.
The dissensions between the orders still- continued, with little
variety either in the grievances complained of on the part of the
people, or in the modes of obtaining or rather compelling a redress
of them. The last resource of the plebeians, and which they
generally found effectual, was, on the emergency of a war, to
refuse to enter the rolls until the senate granted their demands.
The latter body now bethought itself of an expedient which it is
rather surprising they had not sooner adopted: this was to purchase
the service of the army by giving a regular pay to the troops.
Hitherto, in all the military enterprises, the citizens enrolled, served
upon their own charges.  It was a tax incumbent on every
Roman to support himself during war, which being alike a burden
on every free citizen, was not regarded as a grievance, but as the
reasonable price which he paid for his liberty and security.  Yet
this circumstance necessarily limited the duration of their warlike
operations to a very short period; for when the army was
embodied, the lands of the poorer citizens, who had no slaves,
were entirely neglected. This policy, therefore, was not only
ruinous to the people, but repressed all enlargement of the Roman
territory, and was an insuperable bar to extensive and permanent
conquests.
The senate now resolved to adopt a new system. They
ordained that, in future, the foot soldiers should have a regular
pay from the public treasury, to defray which burden a tax should
be imposed on all the members of the commonwealth in proportion to their means.  The people, who did not penetrate the
motive of this important measure, but looked only to the im




CH.VI..]             PAY OF THE ARMY.                     343
mediate advantage it promised in relieving them  from what they
had always felt a very heavy burden, were fully satisfied with the
new arrangement.  The tribunes, however, either looking further
into consequences, or perhaps jealous of any measure which,
promising an harmonious agreement between the orders, diminished their own consequence as magistrates, were at much pains
to persuade the people that the bounty of the patricians was
always to be suspected, and sought by every means to frustrate
the new project. They failed, however, of their purpose. The
manifest advantage of the measure prevailed over all opposition.
The patricians set the example and began the contribution, fairly
paying their contingents according to the value of their estates.
The money was seen passing to the treasury in loaded wagons,
and the poorer citizens, pleased with the sight, paid their shares
with the utmost alacrity, anticipating the return of their money
with high profit into their own pockets.*
From this period we shall see the Roman system of war assume
a new  appearance.   The senate henceforward always found
soldiers at command: the state was consequently enabled to
engage in extensive enterprises, and support long campaigns:
every success was more signal and important, because it was
maintained and prosecuted; and every conquest was turned tc
permanent advantage.  A most material consequence likewise
arose to the constitution of the republic; the senate, by command
over the troops, obtained a favorable balance to its otherwise
decreasing authority.
One of the first measures which owed its success to this change
in the Roman art of war was the siege of Veii, a city at that
time equal in extent and population to Rome, and a formidable
rival to her power and ascendency among the states of Italy.  A
formal siege was a new attempt to the Romans, who had hithertolimited their enterprises to small towns, which they could take by
surprise or storm.  In their ancient mode of attacking towns,
their most refined manteuvre was the corona, which was performed by surrounding the place and attacking it a; once on every
quarter. A city capable of resisting this assault was deemed impregnable.  The Romans, who were now  in a capacity to form
lengthened  enterprises, were, from  that circumstance, a great
overmatch for any of the surrounding states, as well as from the
improvement we must suppose the art of war underwent from its
now becoming a profession instead of an occasional employment
The dominion of Rome had been hitherto confined to the territory of a few miles around the city: we shall now see how rapid
* We are not informed by any of the ancient writers what pay was allotted
to the Roman soldiers at this period; but in the time of Polybius, that is, at
the era of the second Punic war, each foot soldier was allowed two oboli a
day -a centurion double that pay.




344                  UNIVERSAL HISTOnRY.            [BOOK III
was the extension of her bounds, and the strength acquired by
her conquests.
The siege of Veii was prolonged for ten years.  An army
wintering on the field was a thifg till then quite unexampled; and
during the whole time of this siege, the tribunes, who suffered no
occasion to pass unimproved that promised to excite discord and
domestic faction, loudly complained that this intolerable war was
nothing else than a conspiracy against liberty; a design to weaken
the party of the plebeians, by depriving them  of the suffrages of
those who were with the army, while the latter, as they hinted,
were to be inhumanly sacrificed in order to give the patricians the
entire command of the commonwealth.  Having full conviction
of these designs, the patriotic tribunes felt it their duty to oppose
the levying the tax for furnishing the military pay. The army
of course soon began to mutiny; and the consequence must have
been the abandonment and defeat of the enterprise, had not the
patricians found means to soothe them by electing one of their
number to the military tribunate.  This well-timed sacrifice of a
little power taken from the scale of the higher order, quieted the
spirit of the opposition, and the campaign was not frustrated of
its supplies.
The siege of Veii proceeded, as we have said, very slowly,
and during its continuance, Rome was afflicted both by real and
by imaginary calamities. A dreadful pestilence broke out; and
the books of the Sibyls were consulted, which declared that the
only remedy was a Lectisternium, a ceremony now performed for
the first time. An invitation was given to the chief gods of the
Roman state, to partake of a splendid festival prepared for them
with uncommon expense.  The statues of Jupiter, Apollo, Latona,
Diana, Hercules, Mercury, and Neptune, were laid upon three
magnificent beds, and for eight days the most sumptuous banquets
were presented to these images, which of course were eaten by
their priests and partly distributed to the populace.  During that
time, the gates of the city were open to all strangers; the courts
of law were shut, and all litigation suspended; the prisoners were
set at liberty, and every citizen kept open tables for all comers.
Although, perhaps, this ceremony might owe its origin to superstition alone, it is not impossible that it might actually have been
attended with salutary effects.  It is well known that in epidemic
and contagious diseases, nothing so much predisposes to infection
as fear and apprehension. A jubilee of this kind, by exhilarating
the spirits of the people, and banishing for a while care and
anxiety, might naturally contribute to check the diffusion, and
abate the violence of the contagion.
Veii was still blockaded; and as this enterprise greatly engrossed
the minds of the public, every thing in that age of superstition
was construed into a good or a bad omen. The lake of Alba increased prodigiously, and deputies were sent to inquire what the




CH  VI.1             PETTY REVOLUTIONS.'345
gods meant by that extraordinary phenomenon.  The deputies
brought back word that the conquest of Veii depended on draining
the lake, and that particular care should be taken to convey the
waters to the sea; (a most wise and salutary advice, in a season
of contagious disease.)  The  work was immediately-begun; and
that fine canal was cut, which subsists at this day, and conveys
the waters of the lake Albano, by Castel-Gondolfo, to the sea.
This Was likewise an instance in which the faith of the people in
the veracity of the prediction might have greatly aided its accomplishment.  In the present case, however, it is probable that the
valor of the besieged Veientes had powerful incitements, and
perhaps from a similar improvement of popular prejudices to wise
purposes; for VTeii continued for a long period of time to baffle
every effort of the Roman power.  At length, in the tenth year
of the siege, Marcus Furius Camillus was chosen  dictator, an
intrepid and skilful general, who had the honor of finishing this
obstinate war, by the taking of the city in the 358th year of
Rome, and 391 B. c.
The Romans had but very few laws of a political nature, or
such as regulated the form  of their governments, or defined the
constitutional powers and rights of the distinct orders of the state.
It is, therefore, no matter of surprise, to find that perpetual contest
between those orders, giving rise to all that series of petty revolutions, which form  almost entirely the history of the Roman republic, for the period of above four centuries.  During the regal
government, the people had, in reality, more genuine liberty, than
for some time after its abolition, while the constitution was almost
purely aristocratical; for the kings, though they sought to humble
the aspiring patricians, were extremely moderate towards the
plebeians, who were thus brought very near to a level with the
superior order.  But under the aristocracy which followed the
expulsion of the king, the patricians, who were the governors of,
the state, made it their principal object to increase and confirm
their power, by reducing the plebeians to absolute submission and
dependence.  Hence, those oppressive measures, which at length
produced that stubborn opposition and resistance on the part of
the people, which nothing could allay but the concession of
creating magistrates from their own order, and giving them a constitutional weight and legal influence in the state.  This important step being once surmounted, every subsequent struggle of
parties added fresh weight to the popular scale; and there were
now two separate bodies in the republic, each eagerly contending
for its sovereignty, and studious of every method of humbling and
abasing the other.
It cannot be said that the Romans were at this time a free
people, for neither of the orders.was really so.  The patricans
were not free, for they were amenable to the popular assemblies;
a court where the judges were their jealous rivals and natural
VOL. I.            44




346                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BooK III
enemies.  Nor could the plebeians be said to enjoy liberty, for
they neither enjoyed the security of property nor of person, from
the extreme rigor of the laws regarding debtors, in which situation the great' mass of the people stood with respect to the richer
citizens.  Even. in the popular assemblies, when the comitia were
called in the order of the centuries, the people met, only to
witness the enactment of laws, which commonly struck against
their own liberties; not to mention the right of the senate at any
time to nominate a dictator who had absolute authority in the
state.
The plebeians, however, under all these disadvantages, were)
as we have seen, advancing, step by step,-to an equality with the
)artricians in the enjoyment of all the offices of the commonwealth,
which' they now very soon obtained.  It is easy to discern that
this single circumstance-the election of the chief magistrates in
the coinitia held by centuries-formed now the only obstacle to
an equality of power between the orders. - It may, perhaps, be
supposed, that at this period of the commonwealth, when many
of the plebeians had acquired considerable wealth, and consequently came to be arranged in the first or higher classes, the
nurnber of these rich plebeians would frequently turn the ballance,
even in the comitia centuriaia, in favor of their own order; and
so, in fact, it did sometimes happen; but this was not usual: for
as the censors had the power of arrangement, they commonly
took care that the first classes, though composed in part of wealthy plebeians, should have in them, at least, a considerable majority of patricians, which secured the vote of the whole class.
In order to overcome this manifest disadvantage to their order,
the popular magistrates might have followed either of Ae two
different plans.  The one, the most difficult of accomplishment,
was the procuring the election of the higher magistrates to be
mnade in the comitia tributa; the other, in case they failed in that
attempt, was to bring about the same order of voting in the comitia
centuriata, or to make the lot determine which class should take
the lead in giving their suffrage.  And it has been supposed that
they did effect something of this nature; for Livy speaks of the
prerogative class in the election of the higher magistrates, which
was the term used to signify that class in the comitia'tributa, on
which the lot fell to vote first.  Livy, however, in this expression, might mean nothing more than to signify that class which,
in point of rank, was entitled to vote first; so that no conclusive
argument can be founded on this indefinite expression he has
used.
The siege and conquest of Veii was a presage of the future
grandeur of the Roman state.  It was impossible for the small,
detached, and independent states of Italy to withstand a nation
always in arms, whose high ambition and unremitting perseverance were equal to the projecting and accomplishing of any enter



CH VI.],            WAR WITH THE GAULS.                      347
prise in the way of conquest.  It might naturally be supposed, that
those smaller states, aware of the great advantage which Romne had
gained by her system of professionary soldiers, would either imitate
her in adopting the same plan, or at least take precaution, by an extensive system of offensive and defensive alliance between themselves, to guard against this formidable and encroaching power; but
it does not appear that either of these measures was adopted; and
the consequence was, that signal inferiority which was the cause
of their progressive, and at length total subjugation to the Roman,arms.
Tilhe conquest of Veii was succeeded by a war with the Gauls.
This formidable people-alone'a cause of serious alarm  to the
Roman power-was a branch of the great ancient nation of the
Celtwe..*  They are said to have first entered Italy in the reign
of Tarquinius Priscus.  They  opened to themselves a passage
through the Alps, made four different irruptions, and settled themselves in the northern part of the Peninsula, between the Alps and
Apennines, from which they had expelled the Etruscans, and built
for themselves several cities.  They had been settled in this country above 200 years, when, under the comrhand of Brennus, (A. U.
c. 362,) they laid siege to Clusium.  The  Etruscans solicited
the aid of the Romans, who sent some deputies in order to
mediate a reconciliation; but these deputies, being provoked by
the pride of the barbarians, joined themselves to the Etrurian
army, and made an attack on the Gauls; a breach of the law of
nations, for which Brennus immediately sent to Rome to demand
satisfaction.  The Romans were not inclined to grant it; but imprudently justified, and even conferred honor on, the offending
delegates.  The consequence was, that Brennus, raising the siege
of Clusium, marched directly to Rome.
There is nothing which tends more to encourage doubts regarding the authenticity of the Roman history at this period, than the
circumstances which their writers have recorded of this war with
the Gauls.  Three years before its commencement, the Roman
citizens capable of bearing arms amounted, according to the
numeration of the censors, to above 150,000 men. After the
first engagement with the Gauls, in which a Roman army amountng to 40,000 was defeated, we find Rome so absolutely defenceless, that the barbarians entered the city without opposition, and
massacred the senators in cold blood, who were sitting patiently
* The more ancient Greek writers bestow the name of Celtae indifferently on
the Gauls and Germans. Others confine that appellation to the natives of Gaul
proper; while some authors include under it the Spaniards, countenanced in
that notion by the term Celtiberians.  The name Celtae, however, in the Roman
writers, seems to be applied exclusively to the inhabitants of Gallia, or that country of which CGesar, in the beginning of his Commentaries, has accurately described the limits.




348                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK III
waiting for death at the -doors of their houses.  The Gauls then
set fire to the city, which they burned to the ground.  About a
thousand inhabitants shut themselves up in the capitol, which
still held out against the enemy; but this fortress would have
been surprisel; and taken by assault in the night, had not some
geese, more wakeful than the sentinels, alarmed the garrison by
their screaming, and thus defeated the enemy's escalade.  The
garrison, however, was soon reduced to extremity from want of
provisions, and a capitulation ensued, by which the Romans agreed
to purchase a peace for a certain price in solid gold, which the
Gauls were weighing out with false weights, when Camillus, with a
large army, (how assembled we are left to guess,) most seasonably
came to the relief of his country, and engaging the enemy, obtained so complete a victory, that in one day's time there was not
a single Gaul remaining within the territory of Rome.  Is it not
surprising that the sagacious Livy should gravely relate, as a piece
of authentic history, such facts as are utterly irreconcilable to
comrnmon probability?
The destruction of Rome by the Gauls is said to have given rise
to a scheme which was eagerly promoted by the tribunes of the
people, the removal of the seat of government to Veii.  Camillus
opposed the measure in an animated oration, which  is recorded, or
rather composed, by Livy.*  But the orator's eloquence would
probably have failed of its effect, had not popular superstition contributed to aid his counsels.  A centurion, mustering his men in
the forum, called out to one of the standard-bearers, " Here fix
your banners; here we shall do best to remain."t  The omen was
received by a general acclamation of the people, and all design of
abandoning the city was instantly laid aside.
Rome, desolated and burnt to the ground, seems very speedily
to have recovered firom her misfortunes; for we find, in a very
few years, a renewal of the same intestine disorders, the same;ealousies and obstinate contention for power between the patricians
and plebeians, which in fact for about two centuries form all that is
nteiesting in the history of the Roman commonwealth.
It is somewhat extraordinary that most of the revolutions of the
Roman state should have owed their origin to women.  To a
woman, Rome owed the abolition of the regal dignity and the
establishment of the republic. To a woman, she owed her delivery
from the tyranny of the decemviri, and the restoration of the consular government; and to a woman, we shall now see, she owed
that change of the constitution  by which the plebeians became
capable of holding the highest offices of the commonwealth.
Marcus Fabius Ambustus had given one of his daughters in
* Liv. v. 51, &c.
t Signifer, statue signum:-hic manebimus 6ptimb. Liv. v. 55.




CH VI.]             LICINIUS AND SEXTIUS.                  349
marriage to Licinius Stolo, a plebeian, and the other to Servius
Sulpitius, a patrician, and at that time one of the military tribunes
One day, when the wife of the plebeian was at her sister's house,
the lictor who walked before Sulpitius, on his return from  the
senate, knocked loudly at the door with the staff of the fasces, to
give notice that the maglstrate was coming in.  This noise, to
which the wife of Licinius was not accustomed, threw her into a
panic.  Her sister laughed at her alarm, and threw out a malicious
jest on the inequality of their conditions. A very small matter,
says Livy, is sufficient to disturb the quiet of a woman's mind.
The younger Fabia took this affront most seriously to heart.  She
complained to her father, who, to comfort her, promised that he
would do his utmost endeavor that her husband should have his
lictor as well as her elder sister's.  This trifling circumstance is
said to have been the cause of the admission of the plebeian order
to the consular dignity.
Fabius concerted his plan with his son-in-law Licinius, and with
Lucius Sextius, a young, enterprising plebeian.  At the next
election for the tribunes of the people, Licinius and Sextius had
interest to be nominated to that office.  One of their first measures
was the proposal of three new laws.  The first was in favor of
debtors, and enacted that there should be an abatement of the
principal sums due in proportion to the interest that had been paid
on them.  The second enacted that no Roman citizen should
possess more than five hundred acres of land' and by the third it
was proposed to be decreed that the military tribunate should
henceforward be abolished, and two consuls elected, the one from
the order of the patricians, the other from that of the plebeians.
The patricians, it may be believed, gave the strongest opposition
to all these laws.  They secured to their interest the colleagues
of Sextius and Licinius, and by their veto the propositions were
thrown out.  Sextius, however, was not discouraged, but boldly
threatened that he would make the higher order sensible of the
power of his veto in return.  He and his colleague Licinius had
the address to be continued in office for five successive years,
during all which time they obstinately opposed the election both
of military tribunes and of consuls; so that in that period there
were no other magistrates than the tribunes of the people and the
wediles.
Amidst these disorders, a war broke out with the inhabitants of
Velitrwa, and soon after with the Gauls.  The senate had no other
resource but to create a dictator; but that office, from being too
frequent, had lost much of its respect and its terrors.  Camillus,
at the age of eighty, was, for the fifth time, appointed dictator: he
was successful in defeating the enemy, but he could not repress.he ambitious schemes of the tribunes.  These magistrates, at
length, by inflexible perseverance, carried their point.   They
obtained a decree of the people that the military tribunal should




350                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK IIllo
be abolished, and that henceforth one of the consuls should be
chosen from the order of the plebeians; and this important decree
the senate was forced to confirm.  Camillus proposed that there
should be a new magistrate created from the patrician order, for
the administration of justice; as the consuls, in their function of
generals of the republic, had too much occupation to attend to
their judicial duties.  The people, extremely gratified by the great
accession of power and privilege to their order, consented cheerfully to the proposal; and a new magistrate was created with the
title of Proetor, an officer often mentioned in the Roman laws, and
of very high dignity.  IHIe was decorated with the robe called the
prfrtexta, bordered with purple; he had the curile, or ivory chair
of state, and he was attended by a guard of six lictors.  As the
praetorship was formed by conferring on a separate magistrate what
had formerly been a branch of the consular office, the patricians,
who got this new office annexed to their order, had thus a sort of
compensation for the important concession they had made to the
people.  At first only one magistrate was created with the title of
praetor; but afterwards the vast increase of civil causes occasioned
the creation of many.  In the -time of Sylla there were eight
praetors. Julius Caesar increased the number to ten, and afterwards
to sixteen; and the second triumvirate created no less than sixtyfour prietors.  After that time, we meet sometimes with twelve,
and sometimes sixteen or eighteen prators; but in the decline of
the empire we commonly find no more that three. When the number of the pretors was thus increased, and the qucestiones, or trials
for crimes were made perpetual, instead of being committed to
officers chosen for the occasion, there was one praetor distinguished
by the epithet of urbanus, who had the cognizance of civil suits,
and the'others were special judges in particular crimes or offences.
The latter were therefore sometimes called qucesitores, quia qucerebant de crimine; the function of the former was simply jus dicere,
or to judge in civil questions between the citizens.  The era of the
creation of this new magistracy, and of the admission of the plebeian order to the consulate, was the 386th year fr.om the foundation of Rome.  Two new aediles were at the same time created
from the patrician order, with the epithet of cutrules or majores; and
their office was to take care of the temples, and to preside at the
public games and spectacles.
The ambition of the principal plebeians was now satisfied, and
the patricians had in return some small gratification by these new
offices.  It remained now only that the populace should likewise
be gratified, and this was done by the Licinian law, which enacted
that no Roman citizen should possess above five hundred acres of
larnd, and that the surplus should be distributed at a settled and
low rate of price among the poorest of the people.  We must
conclude that the territory of the republic,-:was at this time very
greatly enlarged, when such a regulation was either necessary or
uracticable.




C! vl.])                LICINIAN LAW.                      351
~It might have been expected that these new  arrangements
would have been attended, at least for some time, with public
tranquillity; but this was a situation which the popular magistrates
could not endure, for the authority and credit of the tribunes kept
pace with the public disorders.  These magistrates were at infinite pains to convince the people that, by consenting to the creation of the new offices of Prator and ]Edile, they had lost more
power than they had gained by the admission of their order to the
consulate.  They therefore urged that it would be mean and
pusillanimous to stop short in their pretensions till they had obtained an equal right with the patricians to all the dignities of the
state, sacerdotal as well as civil.
The dlissensions were therefore renewed with the same ardor as
ever.  A pestilence gave for some time a miserable interval of
tranquillity.   The priests, to put a stop to this calamity, which
threatened to depopulate the city, tried every expedient which
policy or superstition could devise.  A Lectisternium  was celebrated, and scenic representations were for the first time introduced
at Rome, borrowed, it is said, from Etruria.  But all was to no
purpose.  The plague, however, is recorded to have yielded at
last to the ceremony of driving a nail into the temple of Jupiter.
This, a French writer* remarks, was curing one contagious disease by another yet more contagious; meaning, no doubt, that the
encouragement of superstition is worse than the pestilence-a sentiment which is not happily applied to the case of a rude people,
whose superstitious prejudices are the safeguard of their morals,
and will be cherished by a wise legislator as an engine of good
policy.
The war still -continued: the Gauls were ever making new
attempts, and almost constantly with bad success.  It was found
expedient, however, very frequently to resort to the creation of a
dictator; and such was the ascendency which the plebeians had
now obtained, that even this supreme and despotic magistrate was
sometimes chosen from their order.  It might have been foreseen
that the privilege of being, elected to the consulate necessarily led
to this-for it was the province of the consuls to name the dictator.
The plebeians had by this time likewise obtained the curule tedileship; they had now nothing more to aspire to than the censorship,
the, praetorship, and  the priesthood.   The senate, with N'eat
weakness, but at the same time with great obstinacy, were always
ready to renew their attempts at every new election to exclude
the plebeians.  They sometimes succeeded, but they always lost
more by this opposition than they gained. They prevailed at one
election that both consuls should be chosen from their order; but
they could not prevent their rivals from fully indemnifying themselves by the election of a plebeian censor.
* Condillac.




352                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                rB00K IIl.
CHAPTER  VII.
ROMTAN HISTORY. continued -War with the Samnites —Devotion of Decius —
Disgrace of the Caudine Forks-Popular pretensions increase-The Plebeians
admitted to the Priesthood-War with Pyrrhus, King of Epirus-His Defeat
-Conquest'of all Italy by the Romans-Incorporation of the conquered Na.
tions —:lanner in whliich the Rights of Citizenship were extended.
SOON after this timhe a war began with the people of Samniurm,
and it was this war which led the Romans to the conquest of all
Italy.  The Samnites inhabited a district to the south of the Roman territory, and separated from  it by Latiurn.  They had hit-herto had no hostile interference with the Romans, and there was
even a treaty of alliance subsisting between them; but the Latins,
Hernici,.Equi, and Volsci, being now subdued, that is to say, so
weakened that they were obliged either to become subjects or
allies of the reptublic, the Romans now came to be the immediate
neighbors of the Samnites, and of course their enemies.  The
city of Capua gave occasion to the war.
Capua was the principal city of Campania, one of the finest
and most fertile countries of Italy.  This city then was extremely
opulent and luxurious.  The Samnites, a poor but wa like people,
were allured by the riches of their neighbors, and invaded Camp)ania.  The inhabitants of Capua, after some feeble attempts to
resist the invaders, implored aid from  the Romans.  The senate
answered, that their alliance with the Samnites prevented theln
from  giving any thing else than their compassion.  "If, then,'"
said the Capuans, "you will not defend us, you will, at least, defend yourselves; and from  this moment we give ourselves, our
cities, our fields, and our gods, to the Romans, and become their
suojects."  The senate accepted the donation, and ordered the
Samnites immediately to quit their territories.   The necessary
consequence was a war, in which the Romans were so successful,
that in the third campaign the Samnites were glad to conclude a
peace, and renew their treaty of alliance.
In the meantirre, the Latins had recovered strength, and meditated to shake off the Roman yoke.  A war was the consequence,
memorable only for a singular instance of the most exalted patriotism  in the consul Decius.   This great man, together with his
colleague, Torquatus, headed the Roman legions.  It is said that
both the consuls had had a dream, or seen a vision, which assured
them that the infernal gods required that one of the contending




B. c. 295.]               -DECIUS.                        353
armies should be devoted to them, and one.f the contending generals; and that the general who should have the heroism voluntarily to devote himself, would thus doom the army of the enemy to
certain destruction.  The two consuls agreed to make this heroic
sacrifice; and it was resolved between them, as they commanded
separate divisions of the army, that he whose division first gave
way, should immediately devote himself to death.  It was in the
meantime strictly enjoined to the troops, that no soldier should,
during the engagement, advance beyond his rank, as instances of
frantic valor were then extremely common.  The battle began;
and Titus Manlius, the son of the consul Torquatus, being challenogedc by a Latin captain, accepted the summons, defeated his
antagonist, and returned with his spoils to the main army.  His
father, with a true Roman severity, ordered his head to be struck
off for disobedience.  The division commanded by Decius having
begun to give way, he caused the Pontifex Maximus to perform
in haste the ceremony of consecration; then, girding himself closely
with his robej he spurred his horse with fury into the thickest of
the enemies' battalions, where he was instantly cut to pieces.
The Romahns, now confident of success, rushed on, and the Latins
were entirely defeated.  The conquerors, by pursuing their success, might have annihilated the Latin name; but they chose to
deal more humanely with the vanquished foe, and to preserve
them in the character of allied states, on whom they imposed separate conditions of peace, according to the different degrees of
merit or demerit-which each had exhibited.
Meantime the war with the Samnites was renewed, and carried
on for above ten years with various success; many of the other
states of Italy taking a part in the quarrel.  One event which
much humbled the piide of the Romans, was the disgrace they
underwent at Caudium.  The Samnites, surprising them  in a
narrow defile near that town, (Furece Caudinae,) had it in their
power to cut them off to a man.  Pontius, the general of the
Samnites, made the whole Roman army, with the consuls at their
head, naked and disarmed, pass under the yoke; —a scene de.
scribed by Livy with great force of natural painting, in the beginning of the ninth book of his history.  The historian relates, that
when the consuls first informed the army of the fate which the
enemy had decreed they should undergo, the soldiers vented their
rage in execrations against their commanders, as the authors of
this degradation, and were ready to tear them in pieces: but when
the dreadful ceremony began, and when they saw the garments
torn from the backs of the consuls, and those men whom they
had been accustomed to regard with veneration, thus ignominiously
treated, every one forgot his own calamity, and, filled with horror,
turned aside his eyes, that he might not behold the miserable
humiliation of the rulers of his country.  It was evening when
the Roman army was suffered to pass out of the defile; and when
vol. 1.          45




'354                 UNIVERSAL HISTORY              [BOOK Il
night came on, naked and destitute of every thing, they threw
themselves down in despair in a field near the city of Capua.  The
magistrates, senators, and chief men of the place, repaired to the
spot where they lay, and endeavored to comfort and soothe their
distress; but they spoke not a word, nor ever raised their heads
from  the ground.  The next day they proceeded in the same
melancholy dejection to Rome, where their. disaster had occasioned
the utmost consternation, and the whole city had gone into mourning.
By the treaty which the Romans signed after the disgrace of
the Furcce Caudin&, they solemnly bound themselves no more to
make war against the Samnites: but they fell upon a shameful
device to elude the obligation.  Posthumius, one of the consuls,
advised that the Romans should pay no regard to the treaty: but
that ihe himself, and all who were actively concerned in making
it, should be delivered up to the enemy, who might wreak their
vengeance on them  as they chose.  This strange proposal was
agreed to.  Posthumius, and the principal officers were sent in
chains to Pontius, the general of the Samnites, who, with a generosity which their conduct had not merited, set thenm at liberty,
though with a keen reproach of their shameful disregard of an
obligation universally held most sacred.
We enter not into a minute detail of the war with the Samnites:
it is to be found at large in Livy.  It affords evidence of one fact
of importance, that the Romans had now adopted the policy of.
exvterminating, when they were desirous of securing a conquest.
The Equi, in the space of one campaign, lost forty towns, the
greater part of which the Romans entirely demolished, and slaughtered the whole inhabitants.
The popular dissensions suffered very little intermission fromn
these warlike enterprises.  The priesthood was now the object of
contest, and the pretence used by the patricians for excluding the
inferior order from that dignity, was religious scruple: but it was
not easy to convince the people, that the same rank which was
adequate to the exercise of the highest offices of the state, would
profane the priesthood; and a law was proposed, by two of the
tribunes, and passed, which enacted that four new pontifices should
be created, and five new augurs, and that both orders of the state
should be equally eligible to those offices.  Thus, all the dignities
of the commonwealth were now open alike to both plebeians and
patricians; and from  this time, consequently, the sole nominal
distinction was, that of the senate and people of Rome.
The Tarentines took part against the Romans in the war with
the Samnites.  This people, who were originally a Greek colony
from Sparta, had acquired considerable wealth by commerce, and
~were of an indoleilt and luxurious character, very opposite to that
of their parent state.*   Alarmed at the progress of the Roman
O.Tiptrj, h.0




A   c. 272.1               PYRHrUS.                        A
arms, aware of their ambitious and domineering spirit, but unablo
to make any vigorous effort to resist them, they sought aid from
Pyrrhus, the king of Epirus, and invited himn, by a flattering deputation, to be the deliverer of Italy from its threatened yoke of servitude.  Pyrrhus was one of the ablest generals of his age; but he
possessed a restless spirit, and a precipitancy in forming projects
of military enterprise, without a due attention to means, or a deliberate estimate of consequences.  Cineas, his chief minrister, to
whom he imparted his design of invading Italy, and mentioned,
with great confidence, a perfect assurance of its success, calmly
asked him what he proposed after that design was accomplished.
" We shall next," said. Pyrrhus,' make ourselves masters of
Sicily, which, considering the distracted state of that island, will
be a very easy enterprise."  " And what next do you intend?"
said Cineas.  " We shall then," replied Pyrrhus, " pass over into
Africa.  Do you imagine Carthage is capable of holding out
against our arms?"  s"And supposing  Carthage  taken," said
Cineas, "what follows?"  " Then," said Pyrrhus, " we return
with all our force, and pour down upon Macedonia and Greece."
" And when all is conquered," replied Cineas, " what is then to
be done?"'." Why, then, to be sure," said Pyrrhus,' we have
nothing, to do but to enjoy our bottle, and take our amusement."
"'And what,"  said Cineas, "-prevents you fiom  enjoying your
bottle now, and taking your amusement?" This dialogue, which
is given by Plutarch, with great naivete, presents us with a just
delineation of the'real views and sentiments of the greater part of
those mighty conquerors who have disturbed the peace of the
universe.
Pyrrhus brought to the aid of the Tarentines an army of
30,000 men.  He was astonished that a war, in which they were a
principal party, did not, in the least, interrupt the amusements of
that frivolous and dissolute people.  They gave him  some magaificent festivals, and then purposed to leave him to fight, while
they continue'd their entertainments.
This conduct, justly exciting both contempt and indignation,
Pyrrhus ordered the theatres to be shut up, closed the public
assemblies, where the Tarentines idly consumed the time in frivolous talk, and mustering the citizens, enjoined a continued and.rigorous exercise to every man who was capable of bearing arms.
So severely felt was this duty, that, it is said, a large number of:he inhabitants actually fled from their country rather than suffer
a deprivation of their usual pleasures.
Pyrrhus was, for some time, successful.  The elephants in his
army were a novel sight to the Romans, and, for awhile,, gave him
a great advantage.  It is said, however, that this experienced general, the first time he came in sight of the Roman legions, was
struck with their appearance, and with the military skill displayed
in their arrangement.' The disposition of these barbarians," said




~5~6                 JUNIVERSAL HISTORLY             [oo00K Ir
he, to one of his officers, "I does not savor at all of barbarism. We
shall presently see what they can perform." And, in fact, he very
soon began to find that even his victories cost him so dear, that
there was little room to hope for his ever achieving the conquest
of Italy.  The Romans soon became accustomed to his mode of
fighting, and every campaign proved to him more and more un.
successful. At length, wishing for an honorable pretext for dropping his- enterprise, the Sicilians furnished it, by imploring his aid
against the  Carthaginians.  Pyrrhus, accordingly, embarked his
troops for Sicily, and during his absence for two years, the Romans
reduced the Samnites, Tarentines, and their allies, to extremity.
Pyrrhus returned, and made a last effort, near Beneventum, in
the Samnian territory.  He was totally defeated, lost 26,000 men,
and taking the first opportunity of giving his allies the slip, lie set
sail for Epirus.  The Samnites, the Tarentines, the Lucanians,
IBruttians, and all the other states, submitted to the arms of the
Romans; who were now, in the 480th year from the foundation
of the city, masters of all Italy.  It is to be observed, however,
that, at this time, Gallia Cisalpina, or the country between the
Apennines and Alps, was not comprehended under the name of
Italy.
The policy of the Romans with regard to the nations which
they conquered is worthy of some attention. The tribes into
which the Roman citizens were divided were formerly, as we have
seen, a local distinction.  Matters were otherwise at this time.
It had become a great exertion of political judgment to arrange
the members of which the tribes were composed, as on that
arrangement depended the issue of any measures to be carried by
popular suffrage, or new laws to be enacted.  It was the province
of the censors to distribute the citizens in the different tribes.
Now, when they formed new tribes from the inhabitants of the
conquered countries, they composed these tribes chiefly  of the
ancient Roman citizens, and transported to Romne the principal
men of the conquered nation, whom they ingrafted into'the original
urban, or rustic, tribes of the commonwealth.  Thus two good
purposes were at once served.  The Roman citizens, who principally composed the new tribes, kept the provinces in order, and
inspired them with an affection for the Roman government; while,
on the other hand, the new citizens, dispersed among many of the
ancient tribes, and constantly under the eye of Roman magistrates,
could have little or no influence in the affairs of the common.
wealth.
* See Livy, lib. ii. c. 23, where this incident is most eloquently related.




w. C. 8b9.C]'ARTHAGEs.                                    35
CHAPTER  V[II.
CARTHAGE, a Phmnician Colony- Early History-Government -Wars- Ear.y
History of Sicily —Syracusan Government-Dionysius the Elder-Dionysius
the Younger-Dion-Timoleon-Agathocles-Character of the Carthaginians
and Romans compared.
As we are now arrived at that period when Rome, mistress of
Italy, began to extend her conquests, and aim at foreign dominion,
it is necessary, in order to prepare the mind of the student of history, to follow with advantage the detail of the progress of her
arms, that he should have some acquaintance with the history of
Carthage, and of Sicily.
Carthage, according to the most probable accounts, was founded
by a colony of Tyrians, about seventy years before the building of
Rome.  The colony had the same language, the same laws, the
same custoras, and exhibited the sarme national character with the
parent state.  The early Carthaginian history is extremely uncertain; but from the vigorous industry of that people who were its
founders, and their great progress in the arts, we may suppose
that tile Carthaginians made a rapid advancement. From the time
of the elder Cyrus, their marine was formidable.  One of the most
ancient naval engagements recorded in history, is that in which the
Carthaginian fleet, in conjunction with that of the Etruscans, fought
against the Phocians of Iona, who were desirous of escaping the
yoke of the Persian monarch.
The Carthaginians had by degrees extended their dominion along
the whole African coast of the Mediterranean, from the confines
of Egypt on the east, to the Pillars of Hercules, or the Straits
of Gibraltar.  Their capital, in the days of its splendor, that is,
during the wars with the Romans, was one of the most magnificent
and most populous cities in the universe.  The number of its inhabitants is said to have amounted to 700,000; and it had under
its sovereignty about three hundred towns along the Mediterranean
coast.
We know nothing of the nature of the earliest government of
the Carthaginians, that is, during the first four centuries from the
foundation of their empire, and very little even of what it was in
the latter periods preceding its dissolution.  They are celebrated,
however, by Aristotle,* as possessing one of the most perfect
* Aristotle, whose account of this republic is, on.the whole, very obscure




358                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY               L[BOOK III
constitutions among the ancient republics.   They had, like the
Romans, two chief'magistrates, called stucetes, who were chosen
annually, and had powers, probably, much akin to those of the
consuls. They had likewise an elective senate, which deliberated
on the most important business of the state: but unanimity was
required to give effect to their decrees; for if there was a difference of opinion, the  matter was immediately remitted  to  the
assembly of the people.  They had a tribunal of one hundred and
four judges, chosen from the senate, to whom the generals of their
armies were responsible for their conduct; and it was not unusual,
as we are told, for this tribunal to punish an unsuccessful general
with death. All the powers of government seem to have resided
in the suffetes and senate, if concurring in opinion; for it was only
in case of difference, as already said, that the sentiments of the
popular assembly were consulted. Aristotle has noted two circuamstances, as defects in the constitution of this republic: the one,
that it was lawful for the same individual to exercise different
offices of state at the same time; the other, that the poor were
excluded from holding all offices of importance in the commonwealth. But the former of these may be found expedient and
even necessary in the best regulated governments, and the latter
appears to be agreeable to the soundest policy; for in offices of
Ihigh trust, poverty might often prove too powerful an excitement
to a deviation from  duty.
The first settlements of the Carthaginians were entirely in the
way of commerce.   They traded with the nations on the coast
of Spain for gold, and maintaining a constant intercourse with
Phcenicia, their parent state, and with the other nations on the
coasts of the Mediterranean, they became the commercial agents
between the eastern and western parts of Europe.  Their naval
expeditions were  not confined to the Mediterranean.    They
passed the Straits of Gibraltar, and coasting along the Afriican
shore, formed settlements even as far as the 25th degree of north
latitude, that is, three -degrees south of the Canary Islands,
anciently called Insulce Fortunatce.  Hanno, by order of the Carthaginian senate, sailed upon a voyage of discovery along the
African coast to the southward, and wrote himself a very curiolus
account of his navigation; an extract from which, or rather a fragmeat of a Greek translation of which, is still remaining, entitled
the Periplus of Hanno.   It is a valuable remnant of antiquity,
written in the style of a plain narrative, without ostentation or embellishment, and very much resembling the journal of a modern
navigator.  The facts which he relates have nothing of the margives this strong proof of the excellence of the Carthagifiian government, that
from the origin of their state down to his own times, the age of Alexander
"its tranquillity had never been disturbed either by domestic sedition or the
tyranny of'ts government."-Arist. de Repub. lib. ii. cap. 2.




Be c. 220.]                 CARTHAGE.                           359
vellous, and agree very much with the accounts given by the
moderns of the same countries.  He observed from his fleet, that
in the daytime there was nothing to be seen upon the land, but all
was stillness and silence; but in the night he heard the sound of
various musical instruments, and saw a great number of fires lighted
along the coast: and we know that such is the appearance of
a great part of the western coast of Africa at this day; that the
savages in the daytime retire into the woods to avoid the heat of
the sun; that they light great fires in the night to disperse the
beasts of prey; and that they are extremely fond of music and
dancing.
The Carthaginians pushed their maritime discoveries likewise to
the north of the Straits: they carried on a trade with the ports of
Gaul, and even with the southern coast of Britain, whence they
drew tin, lead and copper.  They had a settlement in the islands
called Cassiterides, which are supposed to be the Scilly Islands, on
the coast of Cornwall.
At the time of Hannibal it would appear that some degree of
taste for Greek literature had prevailed at Carthage.  That great
man, as Cornelius Nepos informs us, composed several books in
the Greek language.* He had for his preceptor in that language
Sosilus, a Lacedaemonian.  A  Carthaginian, Silenus, is likewise
mentioned by Cicero as a writer of history in Greek.  Sallust, in
his history of the Jugurthine war, mentions books written in the
Carthaginian language,  which he had consulted in composing his
history of that war. Further proof of Carthaginian learning may be
found in the writings of the elder Pliny; and a specimen of the
Carthaginian language is preserved in the Paenulus of Plautus.4
The Carthaginians, enriched by commerce and increasing in
population, soon found their original territory too small for them,
and began to aim at extending it by conquest.  They armed successively against the Mauritanians, Numidians, and all the neighboring nations; but as the spirit of war was averse to the habits
of an industrious and mercantile people, it was their constant practice to employ mercenary troops, which they levied not only from
Afriica, but from  Spain, Italy, the Mediterranean Islands, from
Gaul and even Greece.  The first of the Carthaginian wars which
authentic history records, is that with the Greek colonies of Sicily.
—..
Atque hic tantus vir, tantisque bellis distractus, nonnihil temporis tribuit
litteris. Narnque aliquot ejus libri sunt Greco sermone confecti: in his ad
Rhodios de Cn. Manlii Volsonis in Asia rebus gestis.... Hujus bella gesta
multi memorime prodiderunt: sed ex his duo, qui cum eo in castris fuerunt, simulque vixerunt, quamdiu fortuna passa est, Silenus et Sosilus Lacedaemonius.
Atque hoe Sosilo Hannibal literarum Greecarum usus est doctere.-C. Nepos in
vit. Hannib.
t Ex libris Punicis qui regis Hiempsalis dicebantur, interpretatum nobis eat
Sall. Bell. Jug. c. xx.
t Plaut Psen. Act v. sc. I




360                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK III
They had certainly, however, long before this period, made settle.
ments on that island.  Darius, the son of Hystaspes, proposed an
alliance with them  against the Greeks, and they concluded that
treaty with Xerxes, when he followed out the projects of his father.
They engaged to attack the Greeks of Sicily, while he invaded the
mother country.
The early periods of the history of Sicily are no less uncertain
than those of Carthage.  This country. was termed Trinacrit,
from its triangular figure, and obtained "afterwards the name of
Sicaniac from the Sicani, who are said to have been originally a
people of Spain.  The Siculi, an Italian tribe, afterwards took
possession of the greater part of the island; and from them it was
named Sicilia.  The Phcoenicians are reported to have sent some
colonies into this fertile island, before the time of the Trojan war.
The Greeks, a considerable while after this period, began' to forrm
settlements upon the coasts, and drove the Sicani and the Sicilians
into the interior of the country.  These Greek colonies brought
with them the spirit and manners of their native land; the love of
independence, and some knowledge of the arts and sciences.*  A
colony of the Corinthians founded Syracuse, which became the
most illustrious of the Grecian cities of Sicily; and from Syracuse
arose afterwards Agrigentum, Acra, Casmene, Camarine, and sevw
eral 6ther flourishing towns.
What was the most ancient form of the Syracusan government,
we are much at a loss to know.  But on the authority of ancient
authors, we are assured that it was for a considerable tract of time
monarchical; and might long have continued so, had all its sovereigns inherited the eminent virtues and abilities of Gelon, its first
monarch, who, though severe in his manners, was one of the best
of princes; but his successors abusing their power, and exercising
the most despotic tyranny, at last drove their subjects to the necessity of abolishing the regal government; and, as if the example had
been contagious, the whole Greek cities of Sicily expelled their
tyrannic governors, and entered into a general confederacy to secure
their individual freedom and independence.
Sixty years after this period, an obscure man of the name of
Dionysius, by great address and the most various abilities, had so
ingratiated himself with the people of Syracuse, while in the capacity of one of their magistrates, that he gradually usurped the
supreme authority.  He was a very able general, and successfully
withstood the attempts of the Carthaginians to make themselves
masters of Sicily. By his army, these formidable invaders, who
had obtained possession of a great part of the island, were almo
i No country, of so narrow bounds, has in ancient times produced more learned
men than Sicily. ZEschy]us, Diodorus Siculus, Empedocles, Gorgias, Euclid,
Archimedes, Epicharmus, Theocritus, were all Sicilians by birth.




B. c. 405.]                 DIONYSIUS                          361
entirely extirpated.   Dionysius supported his administration by
military force, by extreme severity and the most rigid despotism;
yet there were some features of his character which seemed to
indicate a more generous nature. He was fond of literary pursuits, a liberal patron of learned men, and even himself a poet.
He contended for the prize of poetry given at the feast of Bacchus,
and obtained it; though, if we credit the story told of the poet
Philoxenus, this must have been a very partial judgment.  Philoxenus, it is said, being invited to dine with Dionysius, and to hear
him irecite some poetical composition, was the only one of the
guests who took the liberty of censuring it; he was condemned to
the mines; but being soon after set at liberty, and invited to hear
another recitation, he held his peace when it came to his turn to
give his opinion.  "~ What," said Dionysius, " have you nothing
to say, on this occasion? "  " Carry me back to the mines," said
Philoxenus.  Dionysius, we are told, was not displeased with the
anssver.
Tilhe character of this prince is, on the whole, ambiguous.  It
is not improbable that the hatred which the Greeks ever affected
to bear to the name of tyrant, has made their historians blacken
the character of Dionysius more than he deserved.*  We read of
the constant terror he was under of assassination; of his never
venturing to harangue the people but from the top of a tower; of
the dungeon he contrived for the imprisonment of state-criminals,
constructed in the form of the cavity of the ear, which communicating with an aperture in his private apartment, he could distinctly
hear any word that the prisoner uttered; of the horror he had of
allowing himself to be shaved, and of his making his dalghters
singe off his beard with nut-shells.  But how is all this consistent
with the certain facts, of his commanding his armies in person; his
overseeing his numerous artisans employed in the public works;
his familiar intercourse with men of science, his magnificent entertainments, and, at length, his dying of a debauch at a public festival?  Great allowance must be made for the prejudices of those
writers who have given us the character of Dionysius.
After the death of Dionysius the elder, the crown of Syracuse
passed, without opposition, to Dionysius his son, an idle, weak,
and dissolute prince, whom  his father, to repress any premature
schemes of ambition, had kept in profound ignorance.  Along
with the tyrannical disposition of his father, he had the same passion, or at least the same affectation of a taste, for literature.  The
Dionysius having sent his brother to the Olympic games to contlend in his
name for the prize of poetry, the Greeks, who detested his name, hissed the
reciters off the stage, and tore his brother's rich pavilion to pieces. Lysias, the
orator, made a speech on the occasion, in which he undertook to prove that it
was an affront to all Greece, and an insult on their sacred solemnities, to allow
the compositions of a wicked tyrant to be publicly rehearsed.-Plutarch Mor.
VOL. I.                  46




362                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK III
philosopher Plato had been invited to Syracuse, by Dion'ysius the
elder, and had contracted an intinlate friendship with Dion, the
brother-in-law of Dionysius, of whom, in one of hiis epistles, he
gives this high character, that 11e had never met with a young man
on whom his philosophical principles had made so great an impression.  But their effect on Dionysius himself was not so favorable; for, being offended with the freedom  which the philosopher
used in censuring whatever he disapproved in the maxims and
government of the tyrant; the latter ordered him  to be sold as a
slave in the public market.  His disciples paid the price of five
mina for their master, and sent him safe back to Greece.  Dion,
from an earnest desire of reforming the morals of his kinsman, the
younger Dionysius, persuaded him to invite the philosopher once
more to return to Sicily.  Plato came, and virtue and learning
seemed for awhile to reign at Syracuse: but their dominion was
of short duration; for the corrupted courtiers of Dionysius prevailed
on him to banish Dion, and Plato followed his favorite disciple.
The exile of Dion was aggravated by circumstances of the most
flagrant injustice and oppression: his property was confiscated, and
Areta, his wife, thesister of Dionysius, was, by that tyrant, compelled to enter into another marriage with a sycophant of his
court.  The more respectable part of the Syracusans were indignant at these outrages, which reflected dishonor on the state, and
sought earnestly to rid themselves from their yoke.  They held a
secret correspondence with Dion, whom they prevailed on to aid
tllern in their design of effecting a revolution.  With the aid of
foreign troops whom he levied in Grece, and supported by all the
Syracusans who favored the cause of liberty, Dion compelled the
tyrant to evacuate Syracuse, and seek refuge in Italy.  But the
austere manners of the virtuous Dion were not suited to a licentious
and corrupted people.  He lost the affections of his subjects; they
forgot his services, and deposed and banished himrn: he was recalled,
indeed, soon after, but to meet with a worse fate: for while he
sought to appease the seditions excited by the partisans of Dionysius, he was assassinated by an infamous Athenian, on whom he
had bestowed his chief confidence.
Aided by the distractions of Syracuse, consequent on the death
of Dion, Dionysius regained the throne, ten years after his expulsion: hbut his tyrannical disposition inflamed, not mitigated by
his misfortunes, soon became so intolerable, that he was expelled
a second time, and banished to Corinth; he there ended his days
in poverty and obscurity.  It is said, that the tyranny of his nature
found a congenial gratification in exercising the employment of a
schoolmaster.
This last revolution had been effected by tne aid of Timoleon,
a noble Corinthian, whom his countrymen deputed to restore the
liberties of their ancient colony.  Timoleon had distinguished
himself by an ardent passion for republican freedom, whict had




B. C. 345.]               TIMOLEON.                        363
ev'en hurried him into the commission of a shocking crime.  Unable to dissuade his brother, Timophanes, from a design of usurping
the sovereignty of his native state, he caused two of his friends to
assassinate him, in his own presence.  This deed, though applauded by his fellow citizens, was attended by such severe remorse,
that he threw up all public employment, and wandered in melancholy dejection for a period of twenty years.  He was now, however, summoned to take the command of'the expedition to Sicily,
and his favorite passion prompted him to obey the summons.
The Carthaginians having some settlements in Sicily, had long
earnestly looked to the acquisition of the whole island, and at this
time, under the pretext of aiding the Syracusans in the design of
dethroning their tyrant, had landed a large force, and seized and
garrisoned several of the Sicilian towns.  Dionysius, reduced to
extremity between the Carthaginian army on the one side, and
the troops of Timoleon on the other, chose to enter into a capitulation with the latter, and agreed to abandon'his throne, and purchase his life by (a voluntary banishment into Greece.  Timoleon
sent him in a single galley to Corinth.  Having delivered Syracuse from her tyrant, he now turned his arms against the Carthaginians, whom he defeated in several battles, and- compelled to
yield up all their new acquisitions, confining themselves within the
limits of their ancient possessions.
Having thus honorably fulfilled the original object of his mission,
in givin- peace and liberty to the Syracusans, Timoleon found his
aid and alliance eagerly courted by the other republics of Sicily,
who desired to follow the example of Syracuse in expelling their
domestic tyrants, and establishing a free constitution.  This purpose successfully accompli hed, Timoleon now applied himself to
the means of repairing the wasted population of the Syracusan
territory, by recalling all those citizens whom the tyranny of the
late government had compelled to abandon their country, and by
prompting new settlers to resort thither by every encouragement
which good policy could suggest.  This truly great man no sooner
brought about a regular and stable administration. of government,
than he gave an illustrious proof how disinterested had been the
motives of his conduct, by resigning all power, and returning to
the condition of a private citizen.  As such he passed the remainder.of his days, highly honored' and beloved by that people who
owed to his virtues their liberty and their happiness.
It is not difficult to account for those revolutions to whicn we
have observed the state of Syracuse so much exposed.  This
city had acquired great wealth by commerce. The overgrown
fortunes of individuals put it in their power not only to stir up factions and cabals, but even to raise armies.  The state likewise
was accustomed to-employ only foreign troops, and thus afforded a
tempting opportunity to strangers to aim at attaining power and
influence in the republic.  Had there been in Sicily any cither




364                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK IlL.
state so formidable as to balance the power of Syracuse, we should
then have seen in that country nearly the same scenes that we
*have observed in Greece.  We should have seen the inferior states
pass from, the alliance of the one to that of the other; associations
constantly formed to maintain a balance of power, and at the same
time a cordial union of the whole against a foreign enemy. But
as the power of Syracuse was not kept down by any formidable
rival in Sicily, this circumstance obliged the inferior states who
wished to avoid her yoke to seek aid from abroad, and thus Sicily
was laid open to the Carthaginians and to the Greeks.
The Syracusans'did not long enjoy the liberty and peace to
which they had been restored by Timnoleon.  Agathocles, a man
who had risen from  a low condition to the first military honors,
and the command of their fleets and armies, took advantage of that
power to render himself master of the city.  Besieged by the
Carthaginians in Syracuse, he carried the war into Africa, ravaged
the country to the gates of Carthage, and defeated their army in
a signal engagement, which had very near proved fatal to their
emrpire.  He suffered, however, a signal reverse of fortune.   ouring his absence in Africa, the Sicilian states, oppressed by Syracuse,
formed a league in defence of their liberties.  Agathocles having
reirnbarked a part of his troops, with the design of chastising this
revolt, the Carthaginians in the meantime reduced the remainder
of the Syracusan army to such extremity, that even the return of
their leader was insufficient to retrieve their losses.  Regarding
their situation as desperate, Agathocles, with'the meanest treachery, abandoned his army in the night, and escaped back to Sicily
in a single vessel, leaving his two sons to the mercy of the Carthaginians, who put them  both to dvath.  His vengeance now
found an object in reducing the Sicilian states, whose revolt had
been the immediate cause of his disasters; but while actively engaged in this purpose, his life was shortened by poison.
The Carthaginians, still intent on the acquisition of Sicily, now
nvested Syracuse with an immense fleet and an army of 50,000
men.  Unable effectually with their own power to resist this
overwhelming force, the Syracusans solicited aid from Pyrrhus,
king of Epirus, who, as we have before seen, had at this time
abandoned all hope of achieving the conquest of Italy.  He seized
this occasion as an honorable pretext for withdrawing his troops
firom  that country.  The Syracusans received him  with open
arms, and put him  in possession of their city, their fleet, and the
public treasure.  Pyrrhus, with this combination of force, was
for some time eminently successful; but on a change, as we have
before related, this prince thought it his wisest course to drop his
schemes of ambition, and return to Epirus.  On quitting. Sicily,
he is said to have exclaimed, " What a beautiful field of battle do
wb leave for the Romans, and Carthaginians!"  His prediction was
speedily fulfilled, for immediately after began the first Pulic war.




B. C. 264.]       ROMANS AND CARTHAGINIANS.                365
The character of the Carthaginians, and that of the Romans:
whom we shall now see engaged in war for a long series of years,
formed a very remarkable contrast to each other.  As this difference of character may, perhaps, be accounted for on one single
principle, I shall endeavor very shortly to unfold that principle,
n a few observations on the effects of a commercial life upon the
enius, manners, and laws of a nation.
One most natural effect of the commercial spirit is a selfish and
interested turn of mind; a habit of measuring every thing by the
standard of profit and loss, and a predominant idea that wealth is
the main constituent both of public and private happiness.  The
contrast of character, in this respect, between the Romans and
Carthaginians, has been finely remarked by Polybius.  "In all
things," says that judicious writer, " which regard the acquisition
of wealth, the'manners and customs of the Romans are infinitely
preferable to those of the Carthaginians.  This latter people es
teemed nothing to be dishonorable that was connected with gain.
Among them, money is openly employed to purchase the dignities and offices of the state; but all such proceedings are capital
crimes at Rome."  I am afraid that a contrast, so honorable to
the Romans, could only have been made with justice in the early
periods of the republic; since we know that without an increase
of commerce, to which might be attributed the consequent increase
of corruption and venality, those vices had attained to as great a
height towards the end of the republic at Rome, as ever they had
done at Carthage.  But wealth acquired by plunder, rapine, and
peculation, is yet more corruptive of the manners of a~ people,
than riches acquired by merchandise.
Another effect of the prevalence of the commercial spirit, is to
depress the military character of a people, and to render them
indisposed to warlike enterprises.   The advancement of trade
cannot take place in any high degree, unless a nation is at peace
with its neighbors, and enjoys domestic security.  The prospect
of that precarious gain which arises from warfare, will not weigh
against the certain advantages which commerce derives from a
state of peace.  The art of war will not, therefore, flourish as a
profession among a commercial people, and the practice of it will
generally be intrusted to mercenary troops.  Military rank will be
in low esteem, because, when purchased, it ceases in a. great degree to be honorable.  Thus the Carthaginians, though certainly
not inferior by nature to the Romans in courage and military
prowess, were become so from habit and education. The armies
of the empire were not composed of its native subjects; they
were mercenaries, and, therefore, had no natural affection for that
soil which they were called to defend, or that people who were
nothing more than their paymasters.  Hence the signal inferiority
of their armies to the Romans, unless when commanded by Carthaginian generals of high, natural, military genius, who could bring




366                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK Ill.
their force into action as a great machine directed by one simple
power.
Public spirit and a high tone of national virtue are rarely to be
found in states whose principal object is commerce.  Patriotism
cannot flourish, where the spirit of gain predominates.  Each individual, feeling interest separate from, and often incompatible
with that of the state, it is not surprising that what regards only
the good of the community should have but small influence; and
even that private advantage, and the enrichment of individuals,
should be the mainspring of' public measures.
But.this, it may be said, is the dark side of the picture. Let
us, therefore, attend to those beneficial consequences, which may
naturally be attributed to the prevalence of the commercial spirit
in a nation.
And of these, what immediately strikes us, as the most obvious,
is the general diffusion of industry.  Among a commercial people,
the faculties both of mind and body are of necessity almost contillually employed.  Invention is ever on the stretch to discover
new sources of gain; and the enterprising spirit of the more
opulent fiurnishes constant occupation to the machanic, the manufacturer, and the laborer.
Inseparably connected with the general diffusion of industry, is
a spirit of frugality.  Riches have their full value when purchased
by the labor either of the mind or body, and what costs dear will
not'be frivolously expended. Justin has remarked the parsimony
as well as the industry of the Tyrians.  Strabo and Cicero give
the same character of the people of Marseilles, and  Diodorus
Siculus of the Carthaginians.  In modern times we observe the
association of the same qualities among the- Dutch and the Chine- e.
Another necessary consequence of the prevalence of commerce,
is a regularity and strictness of the national police, a severity of
tAle laws with respect to mutual contracts and obligations, and a
consequent security in the transactions of individuals with each
other.*   I know not whether a certain degree of refinement in
manners, at least to the length of general courtesy and affability
both to those of the same nation and to foreigners, be not a consequence of the spirit of trade; a refinement of manners, however,
-very different from that of a luxurious people, where the laws of
behavior arise chiefly from motives of ease and pleasure, or are
dictated by gallantry or a high point of honor.
Science is likewise in many respects greatly indebted to commerce.   Thus astronomy, navigation, general mathematics, me-' When the Roman writers inveigh against the Punica fides, the censure
applies to their character in war; and even in that respect it Inay well be ques.
tioned whether the Roman character stood in any higher degree of estimation.




. c. 264.]              FIRST PUNIC WAR.                     367
chanics, and indeed all sciences subservient to practical utility,
are greatly advanced by it, and derive a vast encouragement from
the demands which it occasions for the productions of the useful
arts.  With regard to literature there is greater doubt.  The
habor of the head in those productions which tend only to amusenent, or at least a refinement of the intellectual powers, without
ny obvious consequence as to the practical business of worldly
life, will not, it is probable, meet with much encouragement among
a people whose views extend no farther than the substantial acquisitions of wealth and property.
Such are the principal effects of the spirit of commerce on the
character and manners of a nation; and such accordingly we find
to constitute the principal features of the Carthaginian character
opposed to the Roman.
CHAPTER IX.
FIRST PUNIC WAR-First Naval Victory of the Romans-Invasion of Africa.Regulus-Termination of the War-SECOND PUNIC WAR-Hannibal passes
the Alps-His victories in Italy-Battle of: Canna —Hannibal winters in
C(apua —Siege of Syracuse-defended by Archimedes-Battle of Zama-and
end of Second Panic War-Defeat of Philip II. of Macedon-of Antiochus,
king of Syria-Cato the Censor-Accusation of Scipio Africanus —His character - Scipio Asiaticus-War with Perseus and reduction of MacedoniaTHIRD PUNIC WAR, AND DESTRUCTION OF CARhIHAGE.
IT has been justly remarked that the Romans, although an ambi.
tious people, did'not begin to form plans of extensive conquest,
till they had sufficient strength to undertake them with advantage'The triumph' which their arms had obtained over Pyrrhus, the
most able and the most experienced general of his time, seemed
to give them an assurance of success in any military enterprise in
which they should engage.
The First Punic war took its rise from the following cause. The
Mamertines, a people of Campania, had taken possession of MXessina, one of the Sicilian towns allied to Syracuse.  Hiero, king of
Syracuse, had marched against these invaders, who, conscious that
they were unable to withstand so powerful an antagonist, applied
for aid, first to the' Carthaginians, and afterwards, from rational
fear of being enslaved by this power, to the Romnans.  Although
this was a very unjustifiable quarrel, the Romans made no scruple




568                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK III.
to take a part; and they sent a large army, which engaged and
deflated the united forces of the Syracusans and Carthaginians.
The king of Syracuse having now experienced to his cost the
power of the Roman arms, was glad to court their alliance; flattering himself, by this means) with the prospect of absolutely expelling from Sicily the Carthaginians, who had long entertained
the design of annexing this island to their empire, and had made
considerable progress in that design.
By the joint forces of the Romans and Syracusans, Agrigentum,
one of the principal cities then possessed by the Carthaginians,
was taken, after a long siege.  The Romans, encouraged by this
success, -and -conscious of the great advantage which the enemy
derived from their marine, began to think of equipping a fleet to
cope with them at sea, as well as on land. A Carthaginian galley,
stranded on the coast of Italy, is said to have served them as a
model; and, by a wonderful effort of industry, they equipped in
a few weeks a hundred similar to it, with five banks of oars-and
twenty of a smaller size with three banks.  The Consul Dicilius
made an improvement on these ships of war, by the invention of a
mlachine called Corvus,-a sort of crane, which, falling down and
fastening upon the ships of the enemy, brought them to a close engagerncnt, and served at the same time as a bridge or gangway for
boarding them. All new inventions are usually successful at first,
from the surprise which they occasion.  The Roman fleet gained a
most complete victory over that of the Carthaginians.  A  vast
number of their ships were destroyed, above 7,000 men killed, and
an equal number made prisoners.*
For a few years the success of the Romans was uninterrupted.Tlhey took from the Carthaginians the islands of Corsica and Sardinia; and in'the naval engagement at Ecnomus, having captured
sixty of the enemy's ships, they now thought themselves in a situationu to attempt the invasion of Africa.
The consul Attilius Regulus had the command of that expedition.  The history of this illustrious man, particularly the latter part
cf it, is, by some modern writers, suspected of being fabulous; and
indeed they have advanced some very plausible arguments against
the belief of its authenticity: yet it is found in the best of the Roman writers, and is in itself so beautiful, that we cannot hastily
resolve to refuse it credit.  Regulus, after several successful engagements in Africa, had advanced even to the gates of Carthage;
and such was the general consternation, that the city proposed to
capitulate.  It had been glorious for Regulus thus to have termin* This naval engagement was fought, on the coast of Sicily, near Myle, now
Milazzo. A monument of the victory was erected at Rome, which subsists to
this day-the colum7na rostrata, dug up about 200 years ago, and now standing
in the Capitol.




B. c. 255.]               REGULUS.                        s69
ated the war by an advantageous and honorable peace, but,
blinded by success, the terms he insisted on were so severe, that,
even situated as they were, the Carthaginians rejected them   In
the meantime, a large body of Greek troops arrived to their assistance.  This changed the fortune of the war; the Carthaginians
assumed new courage, and with an army largely reinforced, attacking the Romans, they gained an important victory, and made Regulus their prisoner.
The Romans, undismayed by this great misfortune, prosecuted
the war with fresh vigor.  Metellus, in Sicily, was carrying every
thlling before him. He defeated Asdrubal, the Carthaginian general
in a signal engagement near Panormus; and Carthage, dispirited
by her losses, began seriously to wish for peace.  Ambassadors
for that purpose were despatched to Rome; and Regulus was sent
along with them, as it was not doubted that the negotiation, seconded
by the endeavors of this general, whom his country most deservedly
respected, would be easily terminated.  They exacted at the same
time from him an oath-that he would return to Carthage, in case
there should neither be peace nor an exchange of prisoners.' To
the surprise of all, this great and generous man used his utmost
endeavors to dissuade his countrymen from agreeing to a peace; a
proposition which he represented as proceeding solely from the
weakness of the enemy, whom, by continuing the war, they would
compel to any submission.  But still further, he even dissuaded his
countrymen from consenting to an exchange of prisoners; a measure which he endeavored to convince them must be to their disadvantage, from this circumstance, that they had in their hands many
of the best officers of the enemy, whom they would be obliged to
exchange against private men.  His arguments prevailed, and the
negotiation was broken off.
Of the conduct of Regulus, and of the nature of the obligation
which bound him, there have been various opinions, both among
the ancients and moderns.  Cicero argues the matter at great
length in the third book of his Offices.*  He applauds the conduct of Regulus, not only in the strict observance of his oath, but
in his dissuasive against the exchange of prisoners.  On the other
hand, Sir Walter Raleigh, in his excellent History of the World,
has distinguished between these two actions.  He applauds the
conduct of Regulus in strictly maintaining the obligation of his
oath, and in opposing the treaty of peace with the enemy; but
his dissuading his countrymen from agreeing to an exchange of
prisoners, he censures as a piece of ostentatious stoicism, and
even inhumanity, which no good reasor of state could justify.
And this we must think a sound opinion.  The latter part of the
conduct of this illustrious man must on all hands meet with ad* Cic. de Offic. 1. iii. c. xxvi. et seq.
VOL. I.                  47




370                      UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                   [BnoOK XIf
miration.  The  Pontifex  Maximus, on  being consulted  cn the.
validity  of the  oath  he had sworn to return to Carthage, gave
it as his opinion that, it having been extorted by the necessity ot
his situation, he was under no obligation to observe it.  But the
noble soul of Regulus could not admit of such evasion.  Disregarding the entreaties of his friends, the tears of his wife and children, the urgent remonstrance of the senate and of tile whole
Roman people, this generous and heroic man resolved that the
terror of consequences, how dreadful soever, should not persuade
him to a violation of his honor.' " I am  not ignorant," said he,
"that death and the severest tortures are preparing for nle; but
what are these to the stain of an infamous action, the reproach of
a guilty mind?  I have sworn to return to Carthage; it is therefore my duty to go.  Let the gods direct the consequence as to
their wisdom  shall seem  best."   To  Carthage  accordingly he
returned, where, as he had foreseen, he suffered a cruel and ignominious death.t
The war in the meantime continued. Lilybceum, one of the
strongest places belonging to the Carthaginians in Sicily, after a
siege of many years, by the Romans, with the aid of the Syracusans, and the most signal efforts on both sides of courage, skill,
and perseverance, was taken, in the tenth year, by blockade. After some alternate successes at sea, the Romans were victorious
in two naval engagements; in the last of which, the Consul Lu* This scene is beautifully described by Horace, Od. iii. 5, 49.
t Most of the ancient writers concur in the assertion that Regulus was put to
death in a very barbarous manner by the Carthaginians. The authors of the Ancient Universal History relate as the most common opinion, that he was first
exposed to a burning sun, with his eyelids cut off, and afterwards shut up in a
cask, stuck around with' sharp nails, in which he was suffered to die of hunger
and want of sleep.-Anc. Un. Hist., vol. xii. p. 191. It must, however, be owned,
that great doubt hangs over all the accounts that are given of the inhuman treatment of Regulus. Polybius, who is extremely minute in every thing relative to
the history of this illustrious Inan, is entirely silent as to his fate; which, had it
been such as is commonly related, he could never have omitted to mention. He
assures us, in the first book of his History, that he has been most particular in his
account of Regulus, that others may derive improvement from his example in
not trusting too much to a course of prosperous fortune. As, therefore, the
calamitous death of Regulus was the strongest exemplification of this moral lesson, it is impossible to believe that he would have studiously avoided the mention
of the above particulars, if they had been true.
But there is in reality a positive testimony against the truth of those atrocious
circumstances above related. Among various fragments of ancient authors, collected by the Emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus, is a passage from Diodorus
Siculus, in which it is asserted that the death of Regulus was owing to neglect;
probably the carelessness of his keepers in omitting to supply him with food.
The author adds, that the widow of Regulus instigated her sons, in revenge of
their father's death, to wreak their resentment against two of the Carthaginian
prisoners who had fallen into their hands, one of whom they actually starved to
death. The other was fortunate enough to convey intelligence to the Roman
magistrate of his comrade's death and his own intended fate, in consequence of
which the Attilii very narrowly escaped a capital punishment. See Toland's
Works, vol. ii. p. 42, where there is a trans.ation of the fragment of Diodorus
and a proof of its authenticity.




B. c. 219.]       END OF THE FIRST PUNIC WAR.               371
tatius defeated Ilamilcar Barcas, the father of the great Hannibal,
and compelled the Carthaginians to sue for peace, which was not
granted them  but on the hardest conditions.  These were, that
they should abandon all their possessions in Sicily; that, in the
space of twenty years, they should pay to the Romans 2,200
talents of silver-about 325,4801 sterling; that they should restore,
without ransom, all their prisoners; and lastly, that they should
not make war against Hiero, the king of Syracuse, or any of his
allies.  The Roman people refused to ratify this treaty, unless
on the further conditions, that they should have an additional
thousand talents for the expenses of the war; that the whole sum
should be paid in ten years instead of twenty; and that the Carthaginians should yield up all the small islands which they possessed
upon the coast of Italy.  Sicily was declared a Ronlan province,
with the exception of the kingdom of Syracuse.  A  proetor and
questor were sent thither yearly, the former as a civil judge, the
latter to collect the revenues.
Thus, the Romans, after a war of twenty-four years, begun under every disadvantage, destitute of finances, totally unprovided
with a fleet, and, of course, ignorant of navigation, were, at length,
able to prescribe the most humiliating terms to Carthage, the first
maritime power in the world.
At the end of the First Punic war, the temple of Janus was shut
-an event which had not happened since the reign of Numa, that
is, near 500 years.  In a few years it was again opened, and hever
shut till the reign of Augustus.
The treaty with the Carthaginians was of no long duration. It
was of too humbling a nature to the pride of this mighty power, to
subsist longer than absolute necessity compelled: —an useful lesson
of moderation to a victorious people.  No sooner had a-little time
allowed the vanquished state to repair her losses, than the war
broke out again, with redoubled  animosity.  The Carthaginians
began hostilities by the siege of Saguntum, a city of Spain, then
in alliance with the Romans.  The siege was conducted by Hannibal, then a very young man, but who, from his infancy, had been
inuredcto arms, and had all the qualities of a great general.  His
character has been drawn by Livy with the pencil of a master:H Hannibal, being sent into Spain, on his arrival drew the eyes of
the whole army upon him.. The old soldiers believed that Hamilcar was again restored to life, and that they saw once more the
same look of decision, the same fire of the eye, the very countenance and lineaments of their leader.  Speedily, there was no need
of such recollections of the father to endear to them  the son.
None ever showed a happier aptitude of disposition, whether in
obeying or conmanding; so that it was impossible to'say whether
he was most prized by the general or by the army.  Nor, in whatever service of difficulty or of danger, would Asdrubal appoint any
other to the command, or the troops engage under any other with




372                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY,              LDOOK II''
equal confidence and courage. His boldness in undertaking a peritl
ous enterprise was equalled by his prudence in conducting it.
His strength, neither of body nor mind, was ever seen to yield to
the severest labor.  Insensible alike to heat or cold, his food and
drink were limited to the necessities of nature, never indulged to
gratification. All hours of the day or night were to him alike,
whether for duty or repose; what could be spared from the former
was given to the latter; no appliances were wanted,-no sa ft
couch, or silent retirement.  Often was he seen, amidst the bustle
of a military post, snatching a brief repose on the bare ground, his
cloak his only covering. He affected no superiority of dress; val-.
uing himself only on his arms and on his horses; himself the hardiest foot-soldier, and the most gallant horseman, the first to rush
into combat, the last to quit the field. Yet were these high qualities counteracted by enormous vices, by the most inhuman cruelty,
by worse than Punic perfidy, by the utter disregard of truth' and
of every thing sacred-owning no fear of Heaven, and regardless
alike of promises and oaths."
Saguntum was taken by Hannibal after a siege of seven months,
in which the inhabitants had endured the utmost miseries attendant on war.  Faithful to their alliance with the Romans, this
brave people defended themselves to the last extremity; and when
at length convinced that their resistance was ineffectual, they set
fire to the city, and the whole of them either perished in the flames,
or were cut to pieces by the Carthaginians.
The military strength of the Romans was, at this time, very
considerable. They had six legions in the field, amounting to
24,000 foot and 18,000 horse: they had, besides, from the auxiliary states of Italy, an army of 48,000 men; and their marine
consisted of 240 ships of war.
The forces of the Carthaginians were commanded in chief by
Hannibal; and this intrepid man now formed the daring project of
carrying the war at once into the heart of Italy.  He procured
the minutest information as to every difficulty he would have to
encounter, and took the most judicious care to provide against all
obstacles.  He gained, by kindness and by presents, a number of
the Gauls to his interest, and thus smoothed his way through a
country hostilely disposed, but not daring to attempt an effectual
opposition.  The passage of the Ebro, and the defiles of the Pyrenees, were small obstacles to those his resolution and intrepidity
surmounted. On the first intelligence of the march of the Carthaginians, Publius Scipio, the consul, had taken the field with a
large army, and hoped by rapid marches to arrest him in the first
part of his progress, and to make the country of the Transalpine
Gauls the theatre of the war; but Hannibal had got the start of
him, and had already passed the Rhone in the face of an opposing
army.  He took his way along the eastern banks of that river to
Lyons, and thence to one of the chief passes of the Alps



B. c. 216.]               HANNIBAL..                       37$
not improbably that which is now known by the name of the Great
St. Bernard.  On proceeding to ascend the mountains, he found
the country in some parts buried in snow, and at every defile
defended by large troops of mountaineers. He overcame, by astonishing perseverance, every difficulty, and, at length, in the space
of fifteen days, penetrated into that country which he had promised to his troops as the end and the reward of their labors.  The
timle occupied in the whole of this march was five months and a
half.  His army, on leaving Carthage, amounted to 50,000 foot and
20,000 horse; but of these, on arriving in Italy, there remained
only 20,000 foot and 6,000 horse. This expedition, of which
-Polybius and Livy have each given a detailed narration (differing in
a few minute particulars), is deservedly reckoned one of the most
remarkable exploits of antiquity.*
In the first battle with the Carthaginians in Italy, the Romans
were defeated.  The consul Scipio was wounded, and must have
fallen into the hands of the enemy, but for the bravery of his son,
theyounger Scipio, then a youth of fifteen years of age, afterwards
known by the glorious surname of Africanus.  The Romans lost
another battle near the river Trebia in the neighborhood of Placentia.  They received a still more signal overthrow near the lake
Thrasymenus, where the consul Flaminius was killed, and his army
cut to pieces.  The Roman historians themselves allow that Hannibal, arnmidst these successes, behaved with a moderation which
added lustre to his victories.  If his clemency was affected, his
prudence at least, was admirable.  The prisoners belonging to the
allied states he dismissed without ransom, and endeavored to make
them regard him as their deliverer from the oppression they suffered
under the yoke of the Romans.
A misunderstanding that prevailed between the two new consuls, Varro and Emilius, was the immediate cause of that fatal
defeat which the Romans sustained at Canne in Apulia, and
which brought the Republic to the very brink of destruction.  The
consuls took the chief command alternately, each for a day; an
unwise arrangement, which demanded the most perfect consonance
of designs and of tempers. It was the turn of Varro, who, eager
to signalize himself, was imprudent enough to attack the army of
HIannibal, then admirably posted, and which had every advantage
both of disposition and situation. The manceuvres of the Carthaginian general in the battle of Canne showed the most profound
knowledge in the military art.  I shall not here enter into a particular detail of them; but when I come to treat of the system of
war among the ancients, I shall select as an example this great
battle, and shall endeavor to give some idea of that very simple' The route of Hannibal across the Alps is not described by the ancient writers
with such accuracy as to give any certainty of its precise direction.




374                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 [ BOK MnL.
and admirable manoeuvre planned by Hannibal in the beat of the
engagement, to which the Carthaginians owed their success.'  The
Roman army was entirely cut to pieces.  Forty thousand were
left dead upon the field of battle, among whom  was the consul
Emilius, and almost the whole body of the Roman knights.  Varro,
the other consul, followed by a few horse, fled precipitately to
Venusia.
The Romans, amidst the consternation from so great a disaster,
displayed a magnanimity truly heroic. The senate, on the first
report of the fate of their army, ordered the gates of the city to be
shut, lest the exaggerated intelligence of those who fled from'the
fight should add to the general alarm. The women were forbid
to stir out of their houses, lest their cries and lamentations should
dispirit those who had their country to defend; and the senators
exerted themselves in every quarter to dispel the fears of the
people.
Varro, from the wreck of the army, was able to collect 10,000
men; with these he repaired to Rome to defend the city, in case
Hannibal, as was expected, should immediately attack it.  This
measure was undoubtedly his wisest policy, and he was strongly
urged to it by Maherbal, one of his ablest officers.  It appeared,
however, to Hannibal, a doubtful enterprise; and while he deliberated, the opportunity was lost.  Varro, whose temerity was'the
cause of this great disaster, on approaching Rome with the shattered remains of the army whom he had with much pains collected,
was met by the senate and received their solemn thanks, because
lie had not despaired of the republic.*
The effect of this spirited conduct was wonderful. The citizens
thronged to carry their money to the public treasury.  All above
the age of seventeen, of whatever rank, enrolled themselves, and
formed an army of four legions and 10,000 horse.  Eight thousand of the slaves voluntarily offered their services, and with the
Consent of their, masters were embodied and armed.  The allied
states likewise furnished troops in proportion to their abilities.
The success of Hannibal was variously judged of at Carthage.
TIhe most sanguine, and the most short-sighted, concluded that
Rome was now annihilated, et quod actum  erat de republica Romana. The wiser part reasoned far otherwise. -They had heard
of the conduct of the city subsequent to that great disaster, and
*Varro, however unfortunate in this affair, and justly censurable for his temerity, was both a brave and a'modest man. His countrymen were so sensible of his virtues and abilities, that they proposed in this emergency to create
him dictator; but he refused that high situation. " Confregit relnpublicam rerentius Varro, Cannensis pugnre temerario ingressu; idem delatarn sibi ab universo senatu et populo dictaturam recipere non sustinendo, pudore culpan
maximin cladis redemit; effecitque ut clades deorum irm, inodestia ipsius mori
bus imputaretur."-Valer. Max. lib iv c. 5.




,o C. c. 214.]         FABIUS MAXIMnUS.                    37
they judged that while that spirit existed, there was much yet
which remained for them to conquer.  But even the most sagacious could not have foreseen that Hannibal was to ruin himself by
his own imprudence.  Capua, the metropolis of Campania, had
opened her gates to the victor; the winter furnished a pretext to
his troops to desire some respite from their fatigues; and he yielded to the blandishments of ease, and to the seduction of luxury.
While his army indulged in all the variety of pleasures, they believed they had now attained the end and the reward of their toils;
daily desertions weakened their numbers: and the Romans soon
recovered the supleriority they had lost.
The proconsul Sempronius Gracchus, at the head of an army
composed chiefly of slaves, defeated 18,000 Carthaginians at Beneventurm. With permission of the senate, he had promised all of
them their liberty if they proved victorious, and this prospect gave
them the courage of heroes.  Philip II., king of Macedon, having
made an alliance with Hannibal, landed in Italy, and laid siege- to
-Apollonia, but being surprised in his camp by the pro-praetor Lwevinus, and utterly defeated, with difficulty secured his retreat to
his own dominions.
The republic owed much to the military skill and prudence of
the consul Fabius, justly surnamed Maximus, who found the true
secret of weakening the Carthaginians and wearing out the spirits
of.their leaders, by avoiding a general engagement.  An army at
a distance from the source of its supplies, and in a hostile country,
must act with unremitting vigor —or perish.  The Syracusans
having broken their alliance with Rome, and taken part with the
Carthaginians, Marcellus, who, previous to the disaster of Canne,
had defeated. Hannibal before Nola, in Campania, being at this
time pro-consul in Sicily, formed the design of besieging Syracuse.
This, however, was found a more difficult enterprise than had been
expected.  The genius of a single man was found sufficient to
withstand for a great length of time the utmost efforts of an enemy by sea and land. This extraordinary man was Archimedes.
It is pity that the ancient authors, who have minutely detailed
the prodigious effects of those machines which he constructed, and
so successfully employed in this remarkable siege, have given accounts so obscure -and imperfect of their construction.  The city
was twenty-two miles in compass, and was completely defended at
every point, both on the quarter of._e land and sea.  The Roman fleet consisted of sixty galleys of five banks of oars, and an
immense number of smaller vessels..  These were manned with
archers, slingers, and engineers, who worked the balistce and cata* pulta erected on their decks.  Marcellus caused eight galleys to
be joined together laterally by iron chains, and on their surface,
as a foundation, an inmmense tower was erected, whose height
overtopped the walls of the city.  This huge machinm., which
Marcellus called his Sambuca, or Dulcimer, was slowly advancing,




376                      UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK  III
rowed by a great number of men, when Archimedes discharged
from one of his engines a stone of 1250 pounds, weight., then a
second, and immediately afterwards a third, with a direction so
sure as to batter the galleys and the tower to pieces in a few minutes. An immense artillery of darts, stones, burning torches, and
every material of annoyance, was incessantly launched upon the
besiegers from every quarter of the walls; while the machines from
which they issued were altogether beyond their reach and even out
of their sight.  It was of no avail whether they made their attack
from a distance or close to the walls.  If within the shot of a bow,
the engines of Archimedes assailed the galleys with stones of such
weight as entirely to demolish them; if they approached the walls,
they were seized by cranes and grappling irons, suspended in the
air, and suddenly let fall with a force that sunk them.  Taking advantage of a meridian sun, and concentrating the rays by a combination of polished metal, this wonderful engineer burnt the vessels
of the enemy at a furlong's distance —  thus, in the words of an
old writer, making even the fire of heaven obedient to his commands.t  Such, says Plutarch, became at length the terror of the
Roman soldiers at this almost supernatural warfare, that if any man
saw the smallest piece of cord or wood making its appearance
above the walls, he instantly took to flight, crying out to his companions that they were to be overwhelmed in a moment by some
tremendous power.
But the peseverance of the Romans prevailed at length over
the valor of the Syracusans and the genius of Archimedes.  In the
third year of the siege the city was carried by surprise.  Marcellus took advantage of a great festival which the Syracusans celebrated in honor of Diana, and in the dead of night, while the sentinels were sunk in sleep after a deep debauch, scaling the walls
at the same moment in several different quarters, the Romans
were in possession of a great part of the town before the Syracusans were aware of their danger.  Marcellus wished to save this
great and splendid city from destruction, and sent proposals to the
garrison of the citadel for a surrender on terms sufficiently moderate and humane.  But these were not immediately embraced,. as
* Some of the moderns have questioned the authenticity of the accounts given
by ancient writers of the wonderful machines of Archimedes, and particularly of
that apparatus of mirrors by which it is said he burnt the enemy's ships (see
Descartes, Dioptric. Disc. viii., Fontenelle, CEuvres, &c.); but the more general
opinion of men of science is'in favor of their credibility. M. de Buffon constructed a burning-glass composed of 168 plain mirrors, which set fire to wood at the
distance of 209 feet, and melted lead at the distance of 120. Leibnitz did justice
to this great genius among the ancients when he said " Qui Archimedem intellegit, recentiorum surnmorum virorum inventa parcimis mirabitur; " and Dr.
Wallis, speaking of Archimedes, terms him, "Vir stupendwe sagacitatis, qui prima
fundamenta posuit inventionum fere omnium, de quibus promovendis fetas nostra
gloriatur.  See Dutens's Inquiry into the Discoveries of the Moderns, part iii,
ch. 10. 12.
t Eustath. ad. Iliad. E.




B. C. 208.]         FALL OF CARTHAGENA.                    377
the garrison expected a relief; and the Roman general, apprehensive of that issue, was reluctantly compelled to use the rights of a
conqueror, and abandoned the city to the plunder of the soldiery.
Still, however, his clemency was' conspicuous, fpr he left the gates
open for the escape of all who chose to save their lives by flight.
It had been happy if Archimedes had  availed himself of this
permission; but the philosopher was busy in his closet with a
geometrical demonstration, when a soldier, plundering his house,
killed him on the spot. Marcellus erected a monument to his
memory, and took a humane and generous charge of all his
kindred.
The kingdom of Syracuse was now added to the Roman province in Sicily, which already comprehended the greater part of
that island.
While the w;ar in Italy against the troops of Hannibal was in
the meantime successfully spun out to their destruction, by the
great Fabius, the younger Scipio, who had succeeded his father as
pro-consul in Spain, accomplished the reduction of that peninsula.
The taking of Carthagena (Carthago nova) was a fatal blow to the
enemy.  It was the most opulent of the foreign ports, and the
Romans found, besides great treasures, an immense magazine o'
military stores, which had been lodged there as in a depot for the
conquest of Italy.
Meantime Asdrubal had passed the Alps, with a pqwerful
army, to the assistance of his brother Hannibal.  But the consul
Claudius Nero, coming upon him by surprise in a disadvantageous
situation, into which lie had been led by the treachery of his guides,
engaged and entirely defeated him.  Asdrubal was killed in battle,
and Claudius, marching to meet Hannibal, gave him  the first intelligence of the defeat by throwing his brother's head into nis
camp.  This Carthaginian officer, though thus unfortunate, had a
very high character as'a general.  Had Asdrubal been successful
in this engagement, and effected a junction with his brother, it is
extremely probable that every thing must have given way before
them  in Italy.  But the defeat of that great army and the death
of their leader, threw a gloom of despondency on all the prospects
of Hannibal, and gave new life and courage to the Romans.
Scipio, trilumphant in Spain, now pa'ssed into Africa, and carried
havoc and devastation even to the gates of Carthage.  Alarmed
for the fate of their empire, the. Carthaginians recalled Hannibal
from Italy, where of late he had made no progress.  The battle
of Zama, in Africa, decided the fate of the war.  Twenty thousand Carthaginians were slain in the field, and an equal number
taken prisoners.  The loss of the Romans did not exceed two
thousand.  Hannibal himself withi difficulty escaped from the field,
and arriving at Carthage, represented affairs in so desperate a point
of view, that it was immediately resolved to sue for peace.  It
was granted by Scipio on these conditions —that the Carthaginians
VOL. I.           48




37 8                 UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK III
should abandon Spain and Sicily, together with all the islands lying
between Italy and Africa; that they should make restitution of all
prisoners and deserters, give up all their ships, except ten galleys
and pay within theterm of fifty years, ten thousand talents; and,
lastly, that they should undertake no war without the consent of the
Romans.  Such was the conclusion of the Second Punic war,
ended thus gloriously for Rome, and most honorably for Publius
Scipio, to whom his country decreed a splendid triumph, distinguishing him ever afterwards by the surname of Africanus.
Every thing now concurred to swell the pride of the Romans
and to extend their power.  A vast increase of wealth had flowed
into Rome from the late conquests.  Their recent continued vietories, and the plunder they derived from them, inflamed their
appetite for fresh acquisitions.  It was no longer that petty nation
occupying a part of Italy whom we have seen for centuries waging
an insignificant war with,the tribes which surrounded them; it was
a people which began to aspire at the sovereignty of the world.
In this disposition it was not surprising that they should' eagerly
embrace every opportunity which offered of extending their conquests. We have seen, in treating of the last period of the Grecian
history, that Philip II. of Macedon, harassed the Greek states
with fiequent attacks upon their territories.  They complained to
the Romans, who immediately declared war against the Macedonian. Philip was defeated, and was glad to purchase a peace
by paying a thousand talents, and giving his son Demetrius as a
hostage.
The kingdom  of Syria. was, at this'time, the most powerful
branch of the empire of Alexander; but ruined in its domestic
policy by the foolish wars of the princes of the family of Seleuctus,
it was in a state of disorder and anarchy.  Antiochus, the prince
on the throne, had provoked the indignation of the Romans by,
opposing their arms in Greece, and giving an asylum to Hannibal,
then an exile from Carthage. Antiochus was defeated near Thier-.
mopylaw, and pursued by the two Scipios into his own kingdom of
Syria, where after various losses, he was reduced to the necessity
of concluding a peace on the most humiliating terms.  He agreed
to pay fifteen thousand talents as the expenses of the war, to
abandon all his possessions"in Europe, and to cede to the Romans
the whole of Asia to the west of Taurus, that is, the whole country from the borders of Mesopotamia and Armenia to the.Egean
Sea.  The Romans, with much meanness, demanded as another
condition; that Antiochus should give up Hannibal into their
hands; but the Carthaginian had made his escape on the first
intelligence that a treaty was in agitation. The younger Scipio
(Lucius) was honored on this occasion with the surname  of
Asiaticus, as the elder brother Publius had gained that of Africanus.
These Asiatic conquests were, in a moral point of view, much




B. C. 187.]        SCIPIO AFRICANUS-CATO.                 379
more prejudicial than advantageous to the Romans. Their simple
and austere manners began gradually to, relax, and they acqluired
a relish for luxurious enjoyments.  This change in the manners
of his countrymen roused the virtuous indignation of Cato the
censor, the determined enemy of every species of luxury and
corruption.  At the time when Hannibal was ravaging Italy, and
when the Roman state had the strongest motive to retrench all
superfluous expenses, a sumptuary statute, called the Oppian law,
was passed, which prohibited the women.firom the use of gold in
their ornaments, beyond the quantity of half an ounce, and from
wearing garments of different colors, and likewise interdicted the
use of chariots.  At the end of the Second Punic war the Roman
ladies used all their influence to have this law repealed, urging
~that the motive for its enactment no longer existed.  So earnest
were they in their purpose, that, forgetting that modest reserve
which is their sex's highest ornament, they rushed out intro the
streets, and besetting every avenue to the foruim, laid hold of the
men as they passed, and endeavored, both by clamor and by
blandishments, to engage their votes for the abrogation of this
odious statute.  It was no wonder that the rigid virtue of old
Cato, then consul, was inflamed with indignation at this spectacle.
He poured forth an -animated oration on the occasion, but in a
tone of keen irony which the greater part of his auditors judged
too severe; for the obnoxious law was repealed by a majority of
suffriages.
Much more justifiable on this occasion was the severity of Cato
than on another whichoccurred soon after.  He incited two of
the tribunes, the Petilii, to bring a formal accusation against Scipio
Africanus, as guilty of peculation in converting large sums gained
in his foreign conquests to his own instead of the public use.  The
behavior of Scipio on this occasion was consonant to the magnanimity of his character.  On the first day of his citation before
thehassernbly of the people, when his accusation was read, appearing not to have listened to it, he entered into an ample detail of
all the illustrious services he had rendered his country.  His accusers made no reply, notdaring to controvert a single word which
he had uttered; but contented themselves with. adjourning the
assembly to the next day.  On the morrow, while an immense
multitude crowded the forum, Scipio pressed forward too the tribunal, and making a signal for silence, " My countrymen," said he,
" it was on this very day that I fought bravely for you against
Hannibal and the Carthaginians in the field of Zama, and gained
a glorious victory. Is it thus you celebrate that anniversary?
Come, let us repair instantly to the capitol, and give our solemn
thanks to all the gods for the republic preserved through my
means."  With one universal acclamation, the whole multitude
followed him while he led the way to the temple of Jupiter-and
the tribunes were left alone in the forum.  They nersisted, how



380                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK III
ever, in appointing a third day for the trial; but Scipio paid no
regard to the summons, and the tribunes themselves, either ashamrned of their conduct or convinced that the trial must terminate to
their own disadvantage and an increase of honor to the accused,
thought proper to drop the prosecution.  The illustrious Africanus'died soon after, in peaceful retirement at his country seat of Linternurn.
There is, perhaps, no stronger testimony to the simplicity and
Integrity of this great man than what is recorded of him by Cicero,
that when in the country and free from the cares of public life, he
could amuse himself even with the pastimes of children. In the
second book, De  Oratore, is this beautiful passage: "I  have
been often told (says Crassus) by my father-in-law, that his kinsman Lwelius and the great Scipio were frequently wont to fly from.
the bustle of the town to a quiet retreat in the country, and there
to employ themselves in sports that were childish to a degree beyond all belief.  Nay,, though I should hardly venture to tell it of
such men, yet Scaevola assured me that when they were at Cajeta
and on the banks of the Lucrine, they were wont to pass their
time in gathering shells and pebbles on the shore, and in every sort
of frolic and amusement, just as the little birds fly about in wanton
circles when they have finished the- task of building their nests
and providing for their young."*   Why should Cicero feel ashamed, or apologize for mentioning this anecdote, which in reality
does so much honor to the persons of whom  it is recorded?  No
force of words, no pompous eulogium, could convey to uss so just
an idea, so convincing a proof, of the virtuous simplicity of those
men or the probity of their minds, as this beautiful picture.  The
man who feels the stings of an evil conscience, whose soul is a
prey to the turbulent passions of avarice or criminal ambition, can
never thus taste  pleasure in the sports of innocence.  He will
seek to drown the reflections of his mind in violent gratifications,
and in the intoxication of sensual enjoyments.  Seneca has added
his testimony to the virtues of the great Scipio in these words:
"I write this letter from  Linternum, the villa of Scipio Africanus;
I reverence his shade, and pay my veneration to that little altar
which I have erected to his memory on the very spot where, as I
* Sampe ex socero meo audivi, cum is diceret, socerum suum Lmlium sero
per fere cum Scipione solitum rusticari; eosque incredibiliter repuerascere esse
solitos7 cum rus ex urbe tanquam ex vinculis evolavissent. Non audeo dicere
de talibus viris, sed tamen ita solet narrare Scmvola, conchas eos et umbilicos
ad Cajetarn et ad Lucrinum legere consuesse, et ad omnem animi remissionem
ludurnque descendere. Sic enim  se res habet; ut quemadmnodrum  volucres
vidernus procreationis atque utilitatis sue causa fingere et construere nidos'
eaisdem autem, curn aliquid effecerint, hevandi laboris sui causa, passim aa
libere solutas opere volitare: &c.-Cic. de Oratore. lib. ii. c. 6.




B.c.. 180.]    DEATH OF PHILIP II. OF MACEDON               381
conjecture, he lies buried.  His soul, I am confident, has returned
to that'heaven from which it came."*
The younger Scipio (Asiaticus) was soon after impeached for
the same crime which had been matter of accusation against his
brother.  The tribunes, it seems, were determined to have at-least
one victim  from  that illustrious house'of the Cornelii.  He was
condemned to pay a heavy fine, as is generally believed, upon false
evidence; for when his whole property was seized, his poverty
disproved the calumnious accusation, and the senate decreed him a
high recompense for the injury he had sustained.
In these instances, the zeal of Cato, though doubtless proceeding
from  a virtuous motive, was carried to a most blamable excess.
The only apology that can be made for it is the shocking profligacy of manners of which his own times furnished a striking
example in. that society which was known by the name oft the
Bacchanalian.  Under the pretence of a religious institution in
honor of Bacchus, a vast number of both sexes and of all ranks,
associated themselves in a mysterious combination bound to secrecy
by tremendous oaths.  They held their meetings at midnight, five
times every month, and promiscuously indulged in every species
of debauchery, and even in the commission of the most atrocious
crimes: for the youth of either sex whom  they trepanned to their
abominable purposes, if unwilling victims, usually paid the forfeit
of life.  A frieed woman, anxious for the safety of her lover, disclosed the mysteries to the consul, Postumius, and to him and to
his colleague, the senate committed full power to take every necessary measure for the detection and punishment of all concerned
in this horrid association, both in Rome and in the other cities of
Italy.  The number was found to exceed seven thousand.  Of
these the most guilty were capitally punished; others betook themselves to voluntary banishment; and not a few, from  conscious
guilt and the terror of punishment, laid violent hands on themselves. The senate passed a solemn decree that henceforward no
individual should presume to offer a sacrifice to Bacchus, at which
more than five persons assisted, without a previous permission
granted by their body in fiull assembly.t
The attention of Rome was called off from  her domestic concerns by the disorders of Macedonia.  Perseus, the elder son of
Philip 1I., had poisoned the ear of his father by false accusations
of his younger brother Demetrius, who had successfully negotiated a peace with the Romans, and whom he artfully represented
as cherishing a design of dethroning his father and supplanting
*In ipsa Scipionis Africani villa jacens, hec scribo; adoratis ejus manibus et
ark, quam sepulchrum esse tanti viri suspicor. Animum quidem ejus in ccelum,
ex quo erat, rediisse persuadeo mihi.-Senec. Epist. 86.
I A very interesting account of these matters is given by Livy, lib. xxxix
c. 8 et seq.




362.' UNIVERSAL HISTORY.           LBOOK III
himself in the sovereignty of Macedonia. Philip, then in his
dotage, listened to these infamous surmises, and cruelly put Demetrius to death by poison.  Tortured by remorse, he sunk into
profound melancholy, and died a short time after.  Among the
first acts of the administration of Perseus was an alliance with
several of the Grecian states to make war against the Romans.
WYe have already, in treating of the Grecian history, seen the issue
of this war in the-total defeat of Perseus, who was brought captive
to Rome to adorn the triumph of Paulus ZEmilius, and in the reduction of Macedonia, which now became a province of the Roman
empire.
A few years after this time began the Third Punic war, which
terminated in the destruction of Carthage.  Massinissa, king of
Numidia, who at the time of Scipio's great successes in Africa
had become the ally of the Romans, was the cause of this war.
The Numidians had seized some territories belonging to Carthage;
and a war ensued, in which the Carthaginians were much weakened.'The son of Massinissa, a barbarian in every sense, slaughtered in cold blood 58,000 of the Carthaginians after they had
laid down their arms. The Romans with great meanness laid
hold of that season of calamity to declare war, and their subsequent conduct was equally infamous and disgraceful.  The Carthaginians, weakened and dispirited, conscious of their utter inability to withstand this formidable power, made the most humble
submission, offering even to acknowledge themselves the subjects
of Rome. The senate promised to show them every degree of
favor, on condition that they should perform what the consuls required of them, and send three hundred hostages of high rank as
a security of that obligation.  With natural reluctance, but unsuspicious of treachery, they gave this great pledge, and sent the
hostages to Rome.  A consular army immediately landed in Africa,
and there required, in a solemn manner, that the Carthaginians
should give up all the arms and military stores contained in their
magazines.  " You are now," said they, " under the protection of
the Romans, and have no need of arms." In vain they urged,
that they were surrounded by enemies, and needed them for their
defence. All remonstrance was ineffectual, and they were obliged
to submit.  The most infernal treachery followed.  Bereft of
arms, the Carthaginians were in no condition to refuse whatever
terms should be proposed. They sent deputies to the Roman
camp, to know what' had been the determination of the senate
with regard to their fate.  They were now  informed by the
consul that it was finally resolved that they should abandon their
city, which the senate had decreed should be rased to its foundations; btut that they were to b6 allowed to build on any other
part of their territory, provided it was at ten miles' distance from
the sea.  The amazement and affliction with which these orders
were received, are not to be described.  The deputies threw




B. C. 146.]       DESTRUCTION OF CARTHAGE.                 38,
themselves upon the ground, shed tears like children, and endeav
ored by every motive of compassion and argument of reason to
prevail on the consul to depart from this inhuman resolution.  But
all was in vain.  The deputies were ordered instantly to return to
Carthage, and to intimate the final determination of the Romans,
and the necessity for an immediate compliance.
Despair and frenzy seized the inhabitants of the city upon this
fatal intelligence.  They prepared for a frantic exertion of resistance, unanimously resolving that death only should separate them
from the temples and altars of their gods, the dwellings of their
fathers, and the lands of their nativity.  Orders were immediately
gleen to barricade the gates of the city; every hand was active
in preparation for defence.  Arms were formed from every material which could supply them; the women parted with their ornaments of precious metal, and even cut off their hair to form bowstrings.  The temples and palaces of the city were turned into
workhouses for the fabrication of military engines; the men worked
night and day without intermission, the women bringing their victuals at stated hours, and assisting themselves in every labor to
which their strength was equal.  The Rornans now  found that
they had to do with a people who would defend themselves to the
last extremity.
Asdrubal, the nephew of Hannibal, whom the Carthaginians
had imprisoned for insulting the Romans, was now called to tape
the chief command of tile forces of his country; and in a desperate engagement he would have cut to pieces -the Roman army,
had it not been for a masterly stroke of Scipio iEmilianus,* who
covered their retreat while they fled across the river.  The merit
of Scipio was so conspicuous on this occasion, that at Rome he
was unanimously chosen consul, though he was but thirty-seven
years of age, and the age required by law for that high offle was
forty-three.  He was likewise invested with the sole command of
the African war, a charge which he soon fulfilled by reducing the
Carthaginians to such extremity that they offered to submit to any
conditions, provided only their city might be preserved.  But this
condition Scipio had it not in his power to grant.  In a strong assault on one of the gates, he broke it down, and entering with a
large force penetrated to the citadel, which sustained a siege of
several days, while the Romans were in possession of the town.
At length it was surrendered.  Scipio, unwilling to destroy this
proud and splendid capital, sent to Rome for further orders.  But
these contained no' mercy for Carthage.  The city was set fire
to in many different quarters.  Pillage, carnage, and desolation
ensued.  The conflagration lasted for seventeen days.  At the
X The son of /Emilius Paulus, and, by adoption, the grandson of Scipio Afri
banus




384                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK 11
recital of a scene of this kind, it is impossible to restrain our indigonation, and not to execrate' that barbarous policy which prescribes
a conduct so contrary to every worthy feeling of the human mind.
Thus ended the ill-fated Carthage, in the 607th year from  the
building of Rome, and the 146th before the Christian era.
The same year was remarkable for the destruction of Corinth,
and the entire extinction of the liberties of Greece.  It had for
some time been the policy of the Romans to keep up divisions
among the different states, and thus artfully to substitute themselves as umpires in their quarrels, or excite them to weaken and
destroy each other. The Achaians, as we have seen, furnished
the chief obstacle to the accomplishment of their design, and
obliged them to resort to force i'n order to reduce them to submission.  Metellus, the praetor, began the war, which was terminated
by Mummius, the consul, who took Corinth by storm and utterly
destroyed it.  Greece was immediately afterwards reduced to a
Roman province, under the name of Achaia.
This was the era of the commencement of a taste for the fine
arts at Rome, to which the knowledge of Asiatic luxuries had successfully paved the way.  "' How happy for mankind," says Abbe
Millot, " could a nation be distinguished at once for its virtue and
its refinement, and become polished and enlightened while it re.
talned a purity of morals!"  But this is a beautiful impossibility




BOOK THE FOURTH.
CHAPTER 1.
Sedition of the Gracchi —Cornelia, mother of the Gracchi-Criminal ambition
of Jugurtha-The Romans declare war against him, under Metellus and Marius - Death of Jugurtha -Invasion of the Cimbri -Progress of corruption
in the Republic-Livius Drusus's projects of Reform-The Social War-Origin of the civil War-Rivalship of Marius and Sylla -War with Mithridates
— Marius and Cinna —Sylla obtains absolute authority —His proscriptionsHis, salutary Reforms-He resigns the Dictatorship - Lepidus defeated and
slain- Pompey distinguishes himself- Lucullus's war against MithridatesHe is superseded by Pompey-Conspiracy of Catiline-Extent of the design
-Punishment of the Conspirators-Catiline is killed in battle-Ambitious
designs of Julius Cwmsr-First triumvirate-Agrarian Law —Cesar's increase
of power —His design for the removal of Cicero-Cicero's pusillanimous conduct -He goes into Exile —His Estates confiscated-Caesar's Military Ex
ploits In (Gaul —Pompey procures the recall of Cicero-Death of Crassus, and
rivalship of Ponpey and Ctesar.
THE Romans, as we have seen, had now, within the period of a
very few years, accomplished the total destruction of the Carthaginian empire, the most formidable rival of their power, and ha{
added to their own dominion Spain, Sicily, Macedonia, Greece,
and a large portion of Asia.   These immense conquests, while
they aggrandized the Roman name and diffused the terror of their
arms over a great part of the globe, introduced at home that corruption which is the consequence of wealth, and that luxury which
consumes the patriotic spirit.  Disorders now arose in the commonwealth which undermined its constitution, and ultimately, and
even by rapid steps, accomplished its destruction.
At this period arose Tiberius and Caius Gracchus-two brothers,
of plebeian blood by their father's side, but ennobled by civic honors- and on their mother's side, by descent from  the illustrious
Scipio Africanus. Their mother, Cornelia, was wont to stimulate
their ambition by this generous reproach: "Why, my sons, must
I ever be called the daughter of Scipio, rather than the mother of
the Gracchi?"   Tiberius, the elder, had borne the charge of
Qutestor in Spain; and, being called to account with great severity
by the senate upon  his return, he conceived a Sigh animosity
against that body, and a strong predilection in favc:- a_-  the popuVOL. I.                  49




386                   UNIVERSAL HlSTORY.               [BOOK IV
lar interest in the state.  On that side, he conceived, lay his path
of ambition; and the corruptions in the higher order, from  their
overgrown fortunes, contrasted with the indigence and hardships
of the lower class, afforded a plausible, and in some measure a
just pretence for a corrective of that inequality.
Tiberius possessed every accomplishment for a popular leader;
a bold and intrepid mind, inflexible perseverance, and a nervous
and copious elocution.  An enthusiast by nature, it is'no  improbable, however warped by prejudice, that he had actually persuaded himself that his views were virtuous and patriotic.  Being
elected a tribune of the people, his first measure was to propose
the revival of an ancient statute, the Licinian law, which prohibited any Roman citizen from  possessing above five hundred
jugera, or about two hundred and sixty acres of land.  To conciliate the rich to this restitution, the superfluous land in their possession was to be paid for, at a just price, from the treasury of the
state, and. distributed in certain proportions tothe poor. The patricians, as might have been expected, opposed this measure with keen
and indignant zeal; and, according to their customary policy, gained
over to their side Octavius, one of the tribunes, and by this means
secured a veto.  The proposition would otherwise have been carried by a great majority in the assembly of the tribes.  Tiberius,
enraged at this disappointment, now adopted a measure equally
violent and unconstitutional.  The.veto of the tribunes, which
was the surest guard of the popular interest, had ever been respected as a sacred authority.  Tiberius was resolved to render
it vain and nugatory. He immediately proposed that Octavius
should be deprived of his tribuneship.  It was in vain that every
sound patriot saw the illegality of this proposal, and remonstrated
against it as fatal to the constitution.  Octavius was deposed by
a majority of suffrages, and the revival of the Licinian law was
carried with a triumphant hand.
Stimulated by this first success, the zeal of Tiberius now meditated another blow against the aristocracy.  He procured a law
to be passed, which decreed that the treasures bequeathed to the
republic by Attalus, king of Pergamus, and which the senate lhad
hitherto administered for state purposes, should be fairly accounted
for and distributed among the poorer citizens; and, as the term of
his own tribunate was about to expire, he solicited to be continued
in the office for another year, that he might bring to a conclusion
his important plan of reform.
Even the populace themselves, who had hitherto supported
him, were aware of the illegality of this measure, which tended
directly to establish an arbitrary authority in the state, without limnitation of period. On the day of election the assembly was ill
attended, and the first tribes which were called to vote gave their
suffrage against Tiberius.  His friends adjourned the assembly till
next day; and in the interval Tiberius with his children walked




Y. c. 133S              THE GRACCHI.                        387
the streets in mourning, requesting protection ferom  the people
against the designs of the patricians, who, as he said, threatened
his life.  On the following day a tumult arose in the assembly of
tlie people, between the opposite parties.  The senators broke up
their meeting, and repaired in a body to the forum, followed by an
immense crowd of the young patricians armed with clubs and staves.
Tiberius, apprehensive of his danger, endeavored to escape with
precipitation, his friends following his example; but falling down
in the throng, he was assailed by many hands, and slain upon the
spot.  About three hundred of his followers met with the sanme
fate, and their dead bodies were flung into the Tyber.
Whether the views of Tiberius Gracchus were truly disinterested, and the result of real though misguided patriotism, or
whether a criminal ambition was their motive, as his opponents
strongly reported, is a question which cannot be with certainty
resolved.  A strong presumption against him arises from this circumstance, that his brother-in-law, Scipio jEmilianus, and his
cousin Scipio Nasica, who was actually instrumental in his death,
were of the latter opinion.  Scipio IEmilianus, a man of strict
virtue and enlightened patriotism, exerted all his powers to quell
those dissensions between the senate and people, which be saw
the carrying the Licinian law into execution would inevitebly tend
to exasperate to the hazard of all civil order.  The -consequence
of his generous endeavors was, that he was found dead in his
bed.
Some years afterwards, Caius Gracchus, u intimidated by his
brother's fate, pursued the same steps which- had brought him to
destruction.  Being elected tribune, he took every measure for a
strict enforcement of the Licinian law. which had hitherto been
executed with great remissness.  Hr procured the revival of an
obsolete statute, which prohibited ile capital punishment of any
citizen without the concurring sarction of the senate and people;
and with the view of extending, his ipopularity beyond the bounds
of Rotne, he proposed a la, by which the right of citizenship
should be conferred on all tle inhabitants of the Romah  territories
within the bounds of Illy; with an additional enactment, that
whoever claimed the rint of citizen, if cast by the censors, might
appeal to the popularassembly.
These measures1 as may be supposed, gave great disgust to the
aristocracy, who. lt is plain, were at this time the real supporters
of the Roman Constitution.  But the measure which above every
other tended!o exasperate the senators against Caius, was an inquiry whichl he set on foot into the corruptions of their body, in
which he so far prevailed, that a law was passed depriving that
assembly of all concern in the administration of justice, and declaring that in future the civil judges should'be exclusively chosen
from the order of knights; an act which the senate justly regarded




388                    URIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK IV-.
not only as a deep insult to their body, but as a fatal blow  to the
constitution of the state.
In the view of counteracting these most dangerous innovations,
and of undermining the power of the demagogue, the party of
the senate and patricians set up Livius Drusus, a young man of
uncommon abilities, for whom they procured the office of tribune,
and instructed him to supplant the influence of Caius by affecting
a still more ardent zeal for the popular interest.  They despatched
Caius at the same time on a mission to Africa to rebuild the city
of Carthage. His absence diminished the number of his partisans and increased those of Livius.  At his return, he thought te
regain his ground by soliciting a renewed appointment to the tribunate, but was mortified by a rejection of his pretensions.  Opimius, a man whom  he knew  to be his determined enemy, was
elected to the consulate, and every thing tended to convince him
that his popularity was fast declining.  It is said that his mother,
Cornelia, warned him in passionate terms to escape, by a change
of conduct, the fate of his elder brother; but he was deaf to ler
remonstrances.  In a meeting of the Comitia, his partisans having
come armed to the forum, a tumult ensued, in which one of themn
stabbed a lictor of the consul with his poniard; a most furious conflict followed, in which Caius Gracchus, together with about three
thousand tf the popular party, were massacred in the streets of
PRome.
Such was tbh fate of the Gracchi, men endowed by nature with
those talents which, properly directed, might have conduced to the
happiness and aggrandizement of their country; but either the vic
tims of a criminal ambiyon, or precipitated by an intemperance of
democratic zeal into meaures subversive of all civil order, the)
perished as the disturbers cf the public peace.
There is no female characto- on whom  the ancient writers have
lavished more praise than on Ctrnelia, the mother of Gracchi, of
whose greatness of mind  under the severest misfortunes they
speak in terms of the highest eulogy   She had seen the fulerals
of twelve of her children, the last df whom were Tiberius and
Caius'Gracchus.  While her friends~ xre lamenting her misfortunes, "Call not me unfortunate,"' said shL  cc I shall never cease
to think myself a happy woman, who have been the mother of
the Gracchi."  *  1Imprudent and dangerous fo^ themselves as she
must have thought the conduct of her sons,'3e most naturally,leemed it the result of real virtue and patriotisrm.  Plutarch in* " Cornelia duodecim parths totidem funeribus recognovit; et de ceteris facile
est, quos nec editos nec amissos civitas sensit. Tiberium et Caium Gracchum,
quos etiam qui bonos viros negaverit, magnos fatebitur, et occisos vidit et inse.
pultos. Consolantibus tamen, miseramque dicentibus, nupquam, inquit, non feli
cerm me dicam qum Gracchos peperi.' — Senec. Cousol. ad Marc., c. 16.




e. c. 111.]               JUGURTHA.                        589
forms us that she spent the remaining years of her life in a villa,
near Misenum, visited, respected, and beloved by the most eminent men, both Greeks and IlRomans, and honored by interchanging presents even with foreign princes.   Her conversation was
delightful when she recounted anecdotes of her father Africanus:
but all were astonished when she spoke freely of her sons, of
their great deeds and their untimely fate, and this without ever
shedding a tear.'It was thought by some," continues Plutarch,
"that the pressure of age and misfortune had deadened her maternal feelings; but they (he adds) who iwere of that weak opinion, were ignorant that a superior mind,, enlightened by a liberal
education, can rise above all the calamities of life; and that though
fortune may sometimes oppress virtue, she cannot deprive her of
that serenity and resolution which never forsake her in the day of
adversity."
The universal corruption that now prevailed at Rome was in
nothing more conspicuous than in a celebrated event which happened at this time.  The'old king Massinissa, whom  we have
mentioned as an ally of the Romans at the time of the first invasion of Africa by Scipio, left three sons, who jointly governed
Nuindia; till, by the death of his brothers, Micipsa remained sole
master of the kingdom.  This prince, though he had two sons,
Adherbal and Hiempsal, adopted his nephew Jugurtha, a young man
of promising talents, whose friendship he weakly thought to secure
fbr his cousins by giving him an equal share with them  of his
dominions.  No sooner was Micipsa dead, than this ungrateful
youth resolved to attain an undivided empire by putting them to
death.  Hliempsal was his first victim; and Adherbal, dreading a
similar fate, betook himself to Rome, to sue for justice and to
entreat the aid and protection of the Romans, to whom  his father
h'td rendered his kingdom tributary.  But the money of Jugurtha
hid heen beforehand with him.  He had bribed to his interest a
suficient party in the senate to procure a reference to ten commissioners, who were sent into Africa with plenary powers to decide
between the contending parties.  These, by similar policy, the
traitor won to his interest; so that they declared him innocent of
the charge, and decreed to him the sovereignty of one half of Nuimidia.  Jugurtha now pursued his schemes for the destruction of
Adherbal, and, openly declaring wars besieged him in- the town of
Cirtha.  The Romans sent their deputies to put a stop to such
culpable proceedings; but these, like the former commissioners,
were not proof against corruption. Adherbal was obliged to capitulate and throw himself on the. mercy of Jugurtha, by whom he was
immediately put to death.
These flagrant enormities, which called loud for vengeance, continued yet to meet with shameful palliation in the Roman senate;
but the Roman people were not bribed; and their cries for justice
at length compelled the rulers of the republic to declare war




390                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              LBooI0    V
against Jugurtha.  In the interval of a truce, this traitor appeared
in person at Rome, and had the confidence to justify his proceedings in full senate; where, as before, he had so lavishly bestowed
his money as to insure his acquittal.  A continuance, however, of
the same conduct excited at length the utmost indignation of the
Romans, and Metellus, the consul, was sent against him, at the
head of a large army.
Metellus chose for his lieutenant the celebrated Marius, a man
of mean birth, who possessed great military talents and the utmost
personal intrepidity, but with a total want of every generous and
virtuous principle.  Instigated by ambition, and bound by no ties
of gratitude to the man who had raised him fiom  obscurity, he
sought leave to go to Rome, and there represented the conduct of
Metellus in so,unfavarable a point of view, and talked so plausibly
of what he could himself have done in the same situation, that lihe
gained the people to his interest, was elected to the consulate, and
obtained the charge of prosecuting the war against Jugurtha.
Metellus, though in the train of success, being thus superseded,
returned to Rome, where a just sense of his services prevailed
over every injurious impression, and he was decreed the honor of
a triumph.
But Marius with all his military abilities, was obliged to employ
treachery to finish the Jugurthan- war.  The perfidious character
of Jugurtha justified, as he thought, a similar policy in his enemy.
Sylla, then acting as qucestor to Marius, seduced Bocchus, king of
iMauritania, the father-in-law of Jugurtha, from his alliance; and
that prince, to purchase peace with the Romans, delivered up
Jugurtha into their hands. He was brought to Rome in chains,
and, after gracing the triumph of Marius, was thrown into a dungeon and starved to death.
The Romans were at this time under a serious alarm from the
barbarous nations, who, pouring down from the northern parts of
Europe, suddenly made their appearance in a countless host even
upon the frontiers of Italy.  This horde of savages, who were
said to amount to more than 300,000 men in arms, attended with
their women, children, and cattle, were known by the name of
Cimbri; but there is no certainty of the precise country fromn
which they migrated.  The consul Papirius Carbo was despatched
to Illyricum to oppose their progress, but with inadequate force;
for they overwhelmed his army like a tempest.  They fought in a
dense and solid mass, of which the foremost ranks were chained
together by their girdles.  Had this torrent forced its way across
the Rhaetian Alps into Italy, it is hard to say.what might have
been the fate of the Roman empire; but fortunately they chose
a different course, and dissipated the alarm for a time by passing
onward through the southern Gaul to the vicinity of the Pyrenees.
The diversion of the barbarous Cimbri to the quarter of Spain
gave only a temporary respite to the Roman arms. They began




to overrun the Roman Province in Gaul in separate large bodies,
passing from the southward to the neighborhood of the Rhine
and the banks of the Danube.  In one large body, they poured
down by the passes of Carinthia, or the valley of Trent, to join
another detachment on the banks of the Po.  Marius, now in his
fourth consulate, had for his special department the province of
Gaul, and consequently the charge of opposing these invaders, who,
fiom the cautious movements,of the Roman army, now began
to insult them as a dastardly foe that durst not meet them  in the
field. Marius signally displayed his talents as a general by attacking these separate divisions, while they had spread themselves over
the country, intent solely on ravage and plunder,  In one campaign 200,000 of the barbarians were slain in the field, and 90,000
taken prisoners, among whom  was Teutobocchus, one of their
kings.  In another engagement on the Po, the remainder of this
savage horde was entirely destroyed.  The popularity of Marius,
from this great success, procured his election to the consulate for
the fifth time, and the honors of a triumph.
The plunder of Jugurtha's kingdom brought a new accession of
wvealth to the Romans.  They now found not only their ambition
gratified by their extensive conquests, but their appetite for luxury,
which was daily increasing.  We have seen its effects in that
shameful corruption of the senate, the highest order, and the natural guardians of the'virtue of the republic.  Yet even this was
but the dawning of that profligacy of manners and of principle,
which, frorn this period, we shall see pervaded all ranks of the
state.  Thle annals of the Roman republic now become only the
history of the leaders of different factions, who assuage their
avarice, their ambition, and revenge, in the blood of their fellow
citizens.
Livius Drusus, as tribune of the people, involved the republic
in a war with the allied states, which was a prelude to those civil
wars which ended in its destruction.  This tribune renewed the
project of Caius Gracchus for extending to the allies the rights of
citizenship.  The proposition was violently combated; the allies
contended that as they paid their taxes to the state, and supplied
in war a great proportion of the legions, it was but just they
should share the privileges of the republic as well as its burdens.
On the other hand to multiply to so vast an extent the popular
voles in the Comitia, and thus extend the field of corruption and
the empire of tumult in all the public proceedings, appeared to
involve the most ruinous consequences to the state.  The Roman
populace itself dreaded the diminution of its influence by this
admixture of aliens; * and, in reality, the measure was cordially
* The number of Roman citizens, which, at the time of the census made by
Servius Tullius, amounted only to 83,000, had increased at the commencement
of the Social war, to 463,000 men capable of bearing arms.-Beaufort, Rep.
Rom. 1. iv. c. 4




392                   UNIVERSAL HIISTORY.             [BOOK IV
supported only by the factious and ambitious spirit of the tribunes
themselves.  In this state of public opinion, the fate of Drusus,
who was stabbed by an unknown hand while sitting in his tribunal, excited neither alarm nor regret.
But the allies in Italy were exasperated by the opposition to
their claimS, and by the murder of their champion.  The principal
states entered into a secret league for arming in support of their
pretens'ons, while a formal embassy. was sent, in their joint name,
to demand from the senate and people of Rome what they represented as a matter of right and justice.  The senate, apprized of
all their preparations, sent a peremptory refusal, and ordered several legions to.take the feld against them, nominally headed by
the consuls, but, in reality under the command of Marius, Sylla,
Pompey, and Crassus, all- at that time men of the highest military
reputation. But even under these able generals, the success of
the allies in many severe conflicts was such, that the senate thought
it prudent to listen to terms, and to allow the privilege of citizenship to the inhabitants of such of the states as' should lay down
their arms and return to submission and allegiance.  These concessions dissolved'the league, and the new citizens found, after all,
that their coveted privileges were of very little consequence.
The senate and censors formed them into eight new tribes, who in
the Comitia were to give their votes last, which reduced their
influence to a mere trifle.
This war between Rome and her allies, thence termed the
Social war, was an easy preparative for that which followed
between her own citizens. To excite a civil war was, in the
present situation of things, a matter of no great difficulty.  It was
only necessary that there should be two rivals in the path of ambition equally able and equally intrepid; and such men were Marius
and Sylla.  The former, we have seen, had raised himself from
ooscurity by the mere force of talents.  Sylla was of an illustrious family; he had all the talents of his rival, and yet more
unbounded ambition; his manners were engaging; he had acquired
immense wealth, and he knew how to employ it with great judgment in rendering himself popular.  His distinguished military
conduct in the Social war increased the public favor; and he was
elected consul, with the charge of prosecuting a war in Asi
against Mithridates, king of Pontus.
This prince had given the Romans the highest provocation.
By the seizure of Bithynia and Cappadocia, he had encroached
on the tributary states of the republic; he had seized a large part
of Greece-and, by his fleet in the 2Egean Sea, had taken several
ships belonging to the Romans.  He had likewise authorized a
general massacre, in one day, of every Roman citizen in the lesser
Asia.  No sooner, however, had Sylla taken the field, than the
intrigues of his rival Marius, and of Sulpitiius, a tribune of the
people who had devoted himself to the interest of Marius, pro



D. C. 88.]             MARIUS —SULPITIUS.                    393
cured his recall while still within the limits of Italy.  IHe learned
at the same time that some of his kindred had been murdered at
Rotne by the party of his enemies, and suspected that a similar
fate was intended  for himself.  It.was necessary, therefore, to
form a bold and decisive resolution.  His army, warmly attached
to their leader, had received the order for his recall with high
indignation.  In an animated speech to his troops he reminded them
of tile honors they had won under his command, and exposed in
strbng terms the malicious and sanguinary designs of his rival, and
the danger which such proceedings threatened to the commonwealth itself.  He found the army disposed to implicit obedience
to his commands, and he boldly proposed to lead them on to Rome.
"; Let us go," said they, with one voice; " lead us on to avenge
the cause of' oppressed liberty."  Sylla accordingly led them  on,
and they entered Rome sword in hand.  Marius and  Sulpitius
fled with precipitation from  the city.  Sylla restrained  his army
from  committing any outrage, and then, with great deliberation
and without' a shadow of opposition, proceeded to annul all the
laws and ordinances which had passed during the adrninistration of
his rival.  The senate, at his instigation, then pronounced a decree
which proscribed Marius and Sulpitius as enemies of their country, whom  all persons were required to pursue and put to death.
The consequence was, that the head of Sulpitius was soon after
sent to Romne.  Marius, alone, and a fugitive, was taken in the
marshes of Minturna, where he had sought concealment by plunging himself up to the chin in water.  He-was suffered to escape,
and got over into Africa; where being still persecuted, and required
by the Roman governor to depart from  the province, " Go  (said
he to the messenger) and tell thy master that thou hast seen Marius
sitting amidst the ruins of Carthage."  Plutarch, who relates- this
anecdote, says that Matrius meant by it to claim the compassion of
the Roman praetor, by drawing this comparison between his own
lot and that of the fallen Carthage; both striking examplles of the
instability of fortune.  Marius then retired with his son to a small
island on the Afiican coast, where he soon after received intelligence
that a strong party had been formed at Rome in his favor, where
Cinna, one of his firmest friends and partisans, had been elected
to the consulate.
Ope of the first measures of the new  consul was to impeach
Sylla before the assembly of the people.  It was a law of the state,
that any man, invested with a military command, might fiLustrate
any charge brought against him by going on service.  Sylla therefore defeated the purpose of his enemies by repairing immediately
to his army, and commencing the campaign against Mithridates.
His partisans at Rome, in the meantime, took advantage of a
series of violent and illegal proceedings of Cinna, to procure his
deposition from office, and his expulsion from the city. Marius,
returning to Italy at this juncture, found means to levy a considVOL. I.               50




394                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK IV
erable army, and joining his forces to those of Cinna, they laid
siege to Rome, at that time reduced to great distress by famine~
In this situation, the senate capitulated with.these traitors in arms,
relealed the attainder-of Marius, and restored Cinna to his consular funct;on.  They entered the city triumphantly at the head of
the army, and immediately gave orders for a general massacre of
all those citizens whom they regarded  as their enemies.  The
scene was horrible beyond all description.  The heads of the senators, streaming with blood, were stuck up before the rostra; "a
dumb senate, (says an ancient writer,) but which yet cried aloud
to I-leaven for vengeance."  At the succeeding election of magistrates, MariLus and Cinna proclaimed themselves consuls without
the formality of a vote of the people; but the mind of Marius,
ever the prey of turbulent passions, which he sought to allay by
intemperate drinking, fell a victim  to their joint efforts, and he
died, as is said, in a fit of debauch.
Sylla in the mean:ime, with the army, had contributed to the
glory of the republic by putting an end to the war with Mithridates.  This very prince had  conceived  the proud  design  of
wresting all Asia, together with Greece, from  the dominion of the
Romans; but the loss of two great battles at Chacronea and Orchomenos put an end to his prospects of ambition, and forced him to
conclude a humiliating  peace.  " Sylla," says Velleius Paterculus, " deserved censure for many things; but one thing was meritorious-he left his private interest neglected till he had finished
his war against the enemies of Rome."  His own revenge was
his real object; and a dreadful revenge it was.
On returning to Rome, he found the consuls Carbo and Norbanus (for Cinna was now dead) with above 200,000 men in arms to
oppose him: but he was beloved by the  soldiers, and  he hIad
address enough to seduce a whole consular army, with Cetheguls,
Verres, and the young Pompey, to join themselves to his party.
With this powerful reinforcement he entirely defeated the consuls,
and prepared now to act a part apparently contrary to every former indication of his nature.  There cannot be a doubt that murder is a contagious disease; that with the first shedding of blood
the nature is infuriated, and the wretch once imbrued in it rushes
on with enthusiasm to the most atrocious cruelties.   Svlla had
now caught the contagion.  He ordered 6000 men to be massacred
in cold blood, who, on promise of their lives, had laid down their
arms.  His proscriptions were dreadful beyond  all example.
Every day produced a new catalogue of those who were doomed
to destruction; lie declared that he would not spare an enemy
whom he had in Italy. The punishmen: did not stop at the supposed offenders: their family and posterity to the third generation
were declared infamous, and incapable of enjoying any office in
the state; a proof that tyrannic cruelty is blind to consequences
and suspects not how short-lived, from the very nature of things,




n. c. 79.]' SYLLA.                         395
Its empire must necessarily be.  It was amidst there horrid scenes
that the abandoned Catiline first gratified that profligate and savage disposition which afterwards aimed at the general destruction
of the state.
Sylla was now without a rival in authority, and absolute master
of the government, which, therefore, properly speaking, was no
longer a republic; yet he chose to recur to the popular authority
in order to establish hims'elf in power, and he was nominated in
tile Comitia, dictator for an- unlimitd space of time.
He was now secure, and seemed to turn his thoughts to ti e restoration of order and tranquillity in the  state.  He restored the
senate to its judicial power, of which, for a considerable time, it
had been deprived.  He published severe laws against murder and
oppression; he regulated the election to the high offices of praetor,
quaestor, and tribune; prohibiting, with regard to the last, that any
tribunes of the people should be chosen unless from  the body of
the senators, and enacting that their election to that function should
preclude for ever their attaining to'a higher dignity.  This regulation effectually prevented that once enviable office froim being
any longer an object of ambition.
Having made these prudent and salutary reforms, Sylla took
another step which excited universal surprise: —he resigned the
dictatorship.   The man who had destroyed above a hundred
thousand of his fellow citizens-who, in the course of his proscriptions, had put to death about ninety senators and above 2600
Roman knights —had courage to resign the absolute authority he
had acquired, to become a private citizen, and to offer to give an
account to the public of his conduct.  But he had gained partisans
to his interest more powerful, if not so numerous as his enemies.
The senate were his friends; because, by his late regulations, he
had restored to that body a great part of its ancient dignity; and
bad ever stood forth the supporter of their order against Marius,
who was the champion of the people.  The patricians saw, with
pleasure, that they were once more considered as the superior
rank in the state.  In these respects, Sylla professed himself the
friend of the ancient constitution of his country; and as suchl, in
spite of all his atrocities, he has been regarded by the most enlightened historians.  He, therefore, had a powerful party who
approved of his political conduct; and above all, he was the'dol
of the army, who had all along profited byr his measures and'
gained by his indulgence; he had given freedom  to ten thousand
slaves, and had gratified by rewards all his partisans.  These were
his guardians, and enabled him  to walk with the security of an
innocent man-in that city which he had deluged with blood.  Sylla,
however, did not long survive his change of state.  Pleasure and
debauchery brought on him a loathsome disease, of which he died.
He was certainly a man of great strength of mind, and had some
of the qualities of an heroic character; but he lived in evil times,
when it was impossible at once to be great and to be virtuous.




396                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK W'
On the death of Sylla, the civil war began anew. Lepidus
the consul, aspiring at similar dominion, bltt a man of no abilities,
levied a large army, and, on the pretence of restoring the forfeited
estates to those whom  Sylla had driven into banishment by his
proscriptions, openly proclaimed his purpose of annulling all the late
political regulations.  The senate justly took the alarm; Catulus
and Pompey were invested with authority to provide for the safety
of the republic, and immediately taking the field with a superior
force, Lepidus sustained two defeats, and took shelter in Sardinia,
where he died.
It was now that Pompey began to distinguish himself.  He had
already, with no other command than. as the general of an army
attained to the reputation of possessing great talents' by his victories
over the Marian party in Africa, Sicily, and Italy.  Sertorius was
the head of that party in Spain, where his civil and military abilities had gained him the highest popularity.  Metellus and Pompey
confessed their inability to subdue this formidable partisan in the
field, by meanly setting a prize upov his head.  This policy was
successful; it drew  off Perpenna from  his'interest, who had
hitherto supported his cause.  The traitor invited his friend to a
banquet, and a hired assassin stabbed him  amidst the tumult of
festivity.  The party of Sertorius was undone by the death of its
letider; and Pompey,. returning to Rome, had the honors of a
triumph.
Mithridates, king of Pontus, was earnestly bent upon recovering
those possessions in Asia of which the Romans had deprived hinm.
Lucullus, a very able general, was entrusted with the conduct of'
the war against him.  He defeated  Mithridates in two engagements, and recovered Bithynia.  Meantime Mithridates had sent
a fleet to Italy to support the rebellion of Spartacus, who was
carrying on war against the republic at the headl of forty thousand
slaves, and had defeated an army commanded by two pirtors, and
nother headed by both the c6nsuls.  This rebellion Pompey had
the credit of subduing.; although, in fact, the victory which cost
Spartacus his life was achieved by Crassus, before Pompey's arrival.  In the following year, Pouinpey and Crassus were elected
consuls, and the latter, by his splendid festivals and shows, acquired with the people a high measure of popularity.  Lucullus had
now compelled Mithridates to retreat to Armenia, and the kingdom
of Pontus submitted to.the Roman arms.
Lucullus now marched against Mithridates and Tigranes, and
had the honor of signally defeating their united forces; but it
was'his misfortune or his blame to become unpopular with his
army, and in the next engagement the Pontic king gained an
important victory.  The consequence was, that his enemies at
Rolte accused him of protracting the war from motives of interest.
Pompey, who secretly wished to supplant him in his command,
m'ocured some of his friends, among whom were Julius Caesar apc




B c. 63.1             MITHPRIDATIC WAR.                     397
Cicero, to propose that he should supersede Lucullus, and a decree
was obtained to that effect.  When the intelligence was brought
to Pompey he feigned the utmost surprise.  The rival generals
catne to an interview in Galatia, which passed in mutual reproaches.
I [t is your policy," said Lucullus, "' to triumph over an enemy
whom  another has already subdued, and thus to gather, laurels
which you have not won."-" IAnd you," said Pompey, "covet
victory solely for the sake of plunder, and ravage countries only
to fill your coffers."   Both reproaches had some foundation in
trutLh.  Pompey prosecuted- the war against Mithridates, and soon
compelled his ally Tigranes into terms of unconditional submission.
In the following campaign he put an end to the dominion of Mithridates.  One of that prince's concubines treacherously surrendered to the Roman general a capital fortress or the kingdom; and
Milhridates soon after, seeing his fortunes desperate, had recourse
to a voluntary death.  Pontus and Syria were then reduced to the
condition of provinces of the Roman empire.
On the return of Lucullus to Rome, his acknowledged services
procured him  the honor of a triumph; and he passed the remainder
of his life in luxurious retirement..  Fond at the same time of
study,  and of the conversation of the most jnoenious and polite
men of his time, he spent whole days with them in his library and
gardens, which were open to all the learned men of Rome and
Greece.~*  If any thing can be said to viadicate that excess to
which he carried the luxury of the table, it is that his higher
morals were irreproachable; and voluptuary as he was, he had
yet a higher pleasure in acts of humanity and beneficence.
While Pompey was thus employed in Asia, a most dangerous
conspiracy. threatened the entire destruction of Rome.  Lutcius
Sergius Catilina, we have already observed, had been one of the
ministers of the cruelties of Sylla.  He was.a youth of a noble
fiamily,  but with a character stained with every manner of crime.
While Sylla was dictator, he had risen to considerable honors: he
hall been quaestor, and had held a command in Afirica as praetor;
but his vices disgraced these splendid employments, and the wealth
which he acquired by rapine and extortion he consumed in the
most infamous debaucheries.  Foiled in his design of obtaining the
consulate for himself and his friend Piso, he first determined to
wreak his vengeance on the more successful candidates, Cotta and
Torquatus; and this his first conspiracy, which was to begin by
the murder of these magistrates and all their partisans among the
senate, appears to have failed of success more from  the want of
concerted measures in the conspirators themselves, than fiom  the
vigilance of the sovereign power of the state.  The disappoint* See Plutarch in Vit. Lucul. who details at considerable length the luxuri.
ous life of this celebrated Roman.




398                   UNIVERSAL HIISTORY.               [BOOK IV
ment of this designr- served only to stimulate his daring and malignant spirit to enterprises of greater danger and atrocity.  Lost
in character, drowned in debt, and thence unable to find any other
resource for the support of his vices and debaucheries, he now
formned the desperate scheme of extirpating the whole body of the
senate, of assassinating all the magistrates of the commonwealth,
and satiating his avarice and ambition by the command of the republic and the plunder of the city.
Catiline gained to his interest the profligate of all ranks and -denominations; knights, patricians, and senators, who were desperate
bankrupts, and some high-born women of intriguing and abandoned
character, helped to increase his party.  To facilitate the execu
tion of his designs, he once more solicited the consulship, but was
again disappointed, from  the known infamy of his character.  The
illustrious Cicero was elected to that office.  Happy for the republic that in those perilous times she had this great man for her
guardian and protector!  He had for his colleague Caius Antonius,
a weak and indolent man, who left to him all the burden, and consequently all the honor, of the administration.
In the meantime, Catiline  had brought his plot to  maturity.
Troops were levied, arms provided, a distinct department and function was assigned to each of the principal conspirators, and a day
was fixed for the commencement of operations in the heart of Rome.!rhe city was to be set ire to in a hundred different quarters at once;
the consuls were to be assassinated; and an immense list was
prepared of the chief citizens who were doomed to instantaneous
destruction.  A plot of this nature, in which so many were concerned, could not long be kept secret.  Fulvia, a woman of loose
character, the mistress Df one of the conspirators, probably gained
by the spies of Cicero, gave notice to the consuls of the whole
plan of the conspiracy.  The senate passed that powerful decree
which armed the consuls with dictatorial authority for the safety
of the republic; t and Cicero under this ample warrant might,
l)erhaps, without challenge of exceeding his powers, have seized
tile traitor, and put him  instantly to death.  But he wished to
discover his numerous accomplices, and thus effectually to ex.
tinguish the conspiracy. We are astonished when we read that
animated oration of Cicero, the first against Catiline; and know
that the traitor had the audacity to sit in the senate-house while
it was delivered, and while every man of worth or regard for chiaracter deserted the bench on which he sat, and left him a spectacle
to the whole assembly.   We are equally astonished when we
learn that he was suffered still to remain at liberty; nay, to leave
* Ct' this first conspiracy of Catiline, the accounts of the Roman historians
are extremely imperfect and confused.
t Dent operam consules ne quid respublica detrimenti capiat.




aB. c. 62.]        CONSPIRACY i OF CATILINE.                  399
Rome and to appear at the head of an army in open rebellion.  But
it was one peculiarity of the Roman constitution, during the republic, that the laws did not allow the detention of accused persons in
order to trial.  A citizen, accused of whatever crime, continued at
fiull liberty till judgment was pronounced against him, and might,
if he foresaw the issue of the trial, withdraw himself from Rome as
a voluntary exile.
A remarkable circumstance, showing the extent of this formidable conspiracy, was now brought to light.   The ambassadors
of the Allobroges having fruitlessly applied to the Roman senate
for a redress of grievances, Publius Lentulus, the prator, gave
them assurance in private, of protection and favor, provided they
would return to their province, and dispose their countrymen to
arm  in support of a powerful party, which, he affirmed, would
soon have the command of the republic.  Of this negotiation
Cicero received intelligence.  The consul, with infinite prudence,
instructed his informant to encourage the correspondence between
Leniulus and the ambassadors, and to urge the latter to demand'
from Lentulus a list of the names of all his partisans, in order to
show to their countrymen the'number and power of those friends
on whose protection they might depend, if they armed in support
of this great revolution in the state.  Lentulus fell into the snare
that was laid for him.  He gave a list of the names of all concerned in the conspiracy of Catiline tc the ambassadors, who, setting
out upon their journey, were waylaid, and their despatches seized
by order of the consul.  Cicero had now  in his hands the most
complete evidence against the whole of the conspirators.  Assembling the senate, he produced first tLe written evidence, consisting
of letters, under the hands of the chief partisans -of, Catiline, together with lists of arms, and the places where they were deposited; as well as separate instructions for the ready co6peration of
the different leaders in their distinct departments of the plot.  The
deputies of the Allobroges were produced before the  senate,
and made no scruple to confirm the proof arising from those docLuments.
It remained for the senate to determine what course was to be
pursued with these detected traitors; and the difference of opinion
which prevailed on that subject afforded a strong criterion of the
alarming extent of this atrocious design, and the influence of those
who secretly favored it.  Silanus, the consul elect, proposed an
imnmediate sentence of death on the whole of the conspirators.
His opinion was powerfully combated by Julius Casar, who maintained that the dconfiscation of their estates, and the committal of
their persons in charge to some of the best affected of the Italian
communities, was as effectual a curb to their designs, and more
agreeable to law than capital punishment. Cicero, without delivering any opinion, painted in strong colors the necessity of an
inmediate and powerful antidote to prevent the utter ruin of the




400                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK IV
state, and declared that he would execute the orders of the senate,
whatever they, should be, at the hazard of his own life.  Cato
closed the debate by observing that the vote of that night would
seal the fate of Rome, and convince her intestine enemies whether
their party or the guardians of the republic were to prevail in this
awful conflict.  He concluded by voting for the immediate execution of all the conspirators already in custody, and a vigorous effort
for the extermination of the rebel and his army then in the field.
This opinion prevailed, and was immediately. carried into effect.
Lentulus and his accomplices were the same day, without form  of
trial, strangled in. prison by'the consul's warrant.
An army, headed by Antonius, now took the field against Cats
iline.  He came up with him  in the neighborhood of Fesulae.
The rebel made a desperate defence; but, overpowered by numbers, he threw himself, with frantic courage, into the midst of the
enemny, and died a better death than his crimes merited.
Among the many who had incurred some suspicion of sharing
in the guilty designs of Catiline was Julius Caesar.  This young
mlan, the son-in-law of Cinna, was of a most illustrious patrician
fanily.  The companions of his youth had known him only as a
fop and a debauchee; but pleasure and effeminacy were the assuoned disguises of a daring and ambitious spirit.  Sylla, who was
an excellent judge of human nature, had even penetrated into his
real character, and numbered. hin among the proscribed.  " There
is many a Marius (said he) in the person of that young man."
Caesar, aware of the dangerous consequences of these suspicions,
quitted Rome, and did not return thither till after Sylla's death.
He became mnore circumspect in his conduct, and learned the better
to conceal his designs, till the proper opportunity of bringing them
inlto action.  Meantime he courted the people, and was high in
their favor before he accepted any office in the state.  His largesses had gained.a great party to his interest, though they ruined his
private fortune; and when he was created AEdile, it was generally
believed he was in indigent circumstances; yet the gamnes and
spectacles Which he exhibited surpassed every thing hitherto seen
in magnificence.
At the time when Pompey returned from his Asiatic expedition,
Casar held the office of prtetor.  The ambitious spirit of Pompey
could brook neither a superior nor in equal.  Crassus, a man of
mean talents, but of a restless and ambitious spirit, had, by means
of his enormous wealth, gained a very considerable party to his interest; for money at Rome could always insure popularity, and
thus render even the weakest of men formidable to the liberties of
their country.  Thus, with the greatest inequality of talents, Pompey and Crassus were rivals in the path of ambition; and Caesar,
who at this time aspired to the consulate, and was well aware that,
by courting exclusively either of these rivals, he infallibly made tle
other his enemy, showed the reach of his political genius by art



,..  59.]              JULIUS. cESAR.                       401
fully effecting a reconciliation between them, and thus securing the
friendship of both.  Cato foresaw  the fatal consequences of this
union of interests, which was termed the Triumvirate, and he
openly prognosticated the ruin of the republic.  In the meantime
Cesar, by their joint interest, obtained the consulate, and greatly
increased his popularity by procuring a new agrarian law to be
passed, which authorized the division of certain lands in Campania among 20,000 of the poorer citizens, who had at least three
children.
It is ndt a little surprising that a measure of this kind, so contrary to all good policy, should be so frequently proposed and
adopted in the Roman commonwealth. On this subject the reflections of Dr. Ferguson are most judicious: — In great and populous cities, indigent citizens are ever likely to be numerous, and
would be more so if the idle and profligate were taught to hope
for bounties and gratuitous provisions to quiet their clamors and to
suppress their disorders.  If men were to have estates in- the country because they are factious and turbulent in the city, it is evident
that public lands, and all the resources of the most prosperous
state, would not be sufficient to supply their wants. Commissioners appointed for the distribution of such public favors would be
raised above the ordinary magistrates, and above the laws of their
country. They might reward their own creatures, and keep the
citizens in general in a state of dependence on their will.  The
authors of such proposals, while they are urging the state and the
people to ruin, would be considered as their only patrons and
friends.  I t is not,the law I dread,' said Cato;'it is the reward
expected for obtaining it.' "   These reflections are so obviously
the dictates of good sense, that even the wildest demagogue must
admit their force: and hence we are furnished with a just criterion
to appreciate the real characters of the proposers of such measures,
and to unmask the mock patriotism  of such men as Cassius, the
Gracchi, and Julius Caesar.
Coesar, in order to strengthen his interest with Pompey, gave
him his daughter in marriage.  He had now attained to that height
of consideration with the people, that the senate was completely
intimidated, and durst not oppose him; a strong proof of which was
given by the passing of a law by which the senators took a solemrnn oath not to oppose any measure that should be determinedc in
a popular assembly during his consulate. He gave the government
of the provinces to his chief partisans, and took for himself those
of' Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul and Illyria for five years, together
with the command of four legions.,The legion consisted at this
time of about 4,000 men.
Among the men whom Caesar most dreaded was Cicero.  He
* Ferguson's Rom. Rep., vol. ii. p. 411. Svo. edit.
VOL. I.                51




402           V         UNIVERSAL IISTOYP.Y,  [tB0oi.
knew him to be a true patriot, a real friend of his country and its
constitution, and therefore an enemy to all usurpation of a preponderating power in the state.*  IHe therefore beheld in him  the
greatest obstacle to his own ambitious designs, and resolved to accomplish his ruin. Cicero was aware of his own danger, and
therefore had for some time declined all share in the offices of state;
while his high character and eminent public services procured him
the esteem of every man of virtue.  But such were not the prevailing party in the republic, either in point of influence or numberm; for the populace ever bestowed their favor on those who best
paid their court, and ministered most largely to their avarice and
love of pleasure.  Clodius, a mortal enemy of Cicero, was pitched
on by Caesar as his fittest instrument to accomp]ish the ruin of this
illustrious man.  By Caesar's influence, Clodius was chosen one of
the tribunes of the people, and was no sooner in office than he proposed various laws which tended to ingratiate himself with the people, and at the same time secure the favor of the chiefs of the
republic.  He procured the passing of an act for remitting the
debts due by the poorer class for corn bought from the public graX
naries; and another for the restoring and increasing the number of
public corporations, which had been abolished on account of the
turbulence and faction of which they were the seminaries.  He
gained much influence with the senate by a regulation for abridging
the power of the censors in purging that order; and finally he proposed a law which made it a high offence to condemn or put to
death any citizen before he had been judged by the people.  This
important law  was evidently levelled at Cicero, who, by his authority as consul, warranted indeed by a decree of. the senate, had
condemned Catiline's accomplices to death-a measure which the
necessity of the times and the imminent peril of the republic had
justified in the opinion of all good men.
Cicero, with- all his high qualities, was of a weak and pusillanimous spirit.  Instead of manfully endeavoring to avail himself
of the great and essential services which he had rendered his country, sufficient to insure him The support of every good citizen, in
* The first occasion on which Cicero distinguished himself as an orator, was one
of great difficulty and delicacy, the defence of Roscius, who, during the time of
Sylla's horrible proscriptions, had been robbed of his whole fortune by some of his
wicked relations, who had put to death his father under the pretended authority
of that proscription, though in reality his name was not in the list of victims. A
favorite of Sylla, nambd Chrysogonus, had shared this infamous plunder, and, to
secure his possession, accused the son of being the murderer of his father. Sucet
was, at this time, the dread of offending Sylla, that none of the old advocates or
orators would undertake the defence of this injured man. Cicero, then in his
twenty-seventh year, nobly stood forth as his defender; and, with admirable skill
and address, prevailed in obtaining justice for his client, without incurring the
resentment of that man who was the protector of his oppressors. The reputation.
of the pleader rose from that moment to the highest pitch, and he was regarded as
the first orator of the age.




B. c. 59.]             EXILE OF CICERO;                    403
averting or opposing this adverse current which threatened his destruction, he meanly sunk under the apprehension of' its force.
His resolution entirely forsook him.  He clothed himself in a
mourning habit, as did most of the equestrian order to which he
belonged; and he presented himself in the assembly of the people,
in the abject character of a suppliant whose life and fortunes were
entirely at their disposal. He claimed the friendship of Pompey,
to whom he had done essential services; but he shamefully abandoned him.  Cato, the real friend of Cicero, and who would have
generously sunported him at all hazards, was purposely invested
with a commission to reduce the island of Cyprus, in order to remove him froml'Rome at this critical moment when the fate of his
friend was in dependence.  Before leaving the city, he is said to
have counselled Cicero to yield to the necessity of circumstances,
and betake himself to voluntary banishment from  his ungrateful
country.
After some ineffectual endeavors to try the attachment of his
former friends, which only ended in fresh mortification, Cicero followed the counsel of Cato. He set off in the middle of the night,
and embarked at Brundisium for Macedonia, on his way to Thessalonica, where he had fixed the scene of his exile. Here he
betrayed in a lamentable degree the weakness of his mind. The
letters which he wrote to Atticus, it has been well observed, "resemble more the wailings of an infant, or the strains of a tragedy
composed to draw tears, than the language of a man supporting
the cause of integrity in the midst of unmerited trouble."*  " I
wish I may see the day (he thus writes to his friend) when I shall
be disposed to thank you for having prevented me from resorting to
a voluntary death; for I now bitterly regret that I yielded in that
matter to your entreaty.  WThat species of misfortune have I not
endured?  Did ever any ohe fall from so high a state, in so good
a cause, with such abilities and knowledge, and with such a share
of the public esteem? Cut off in such a career of glory, deprived
of my fortune, torn from my children, debarred the sight of a
brother dearer to me than myself-but my tears will not allow me
to proceed."  In qontemplating such a picture, the historian I
have just quoted truly says, " It appears from this and many other
scenes of the life of this remarkable man, that though he loved virtuous actions, yet his virtue was accompanied with so unsuitable a
thirst of the praise to which it entitled him, that his mindwas unable to sustain itself without this foreign assistance; and when the
praise to which he aspired for his consulate was changed into obloquy and scorn, he seems to have lost the sense of good or evil in
his own conduct and character."  How different this conduct from
the sentiments he had expressed as a philosopher, in his beautiful' Ferguson's Rom. Rep. vol. ii. p. 448.




404                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK! ]
treatise De Finibrus, 1. i.: " Succumbere doloribus, eosque humih
animo imbecilloque ferre, miserumrn  est: ob eamque debilitatem
animi, multi parentes, nulti amlcos, nonnulli patrianr, plerique
autem seipsos penitus perdiderunt." *  But speculative and practical philosophy are widely different.
Cicero's departure from Rome was regarded as a full justification of that sentence of banishment which Clodius immediately
caused to be passed against him as an enemy of the republic, accompanied with a decree for confiscating his whole estates, and
demolishing and razing to the ground his elegant, palaces and viblas.  Such were the rewards of that true patriot whom, a few
months before, his country had justly hailed as its preserver from
utter destruction!  But popular opinion is ever apt to pass fronm
one extreme to another; and the latter part of tile life of Cicero
was a perpetual alternation of triumph and disgrace.
We have remarked that, in the divisions of the provinces between Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus, the first of these had for his
share those extensive territories on both sides of the Alps, distinguished by the names of Gallia Cisalpinla and Transalpina.  O0
these he obtained the government for five years, and in that period
he carried to its highest pitch the military glory of the republic,
and his own reputation as a consummate general.. The Helvetians, leaving their own territory, had attempted to obtain a settlement within the Roman Province.  Caesar, in the first year of
his government, utterly defeated these invaders, and drove them
back to their native seats with the loss of near 200,000 slain in
the field.  The Germans under Ariovistus, who had attempted a
similar invasion, were repelled with immense slaughter, their leader
narrowly escaping in a small boat across the Rhine.  The BelgE
the.Nervii, the Celtae, the Suevi, Menapii, and other warlike
nations, were all successively brought under subjection.  In the
fourth year of his command he invaded Britain.  The motive to
this enterprise was purely ambition, although the pretext was that
the Britons were the aggressors by sending supplies to the hostile
tribes of Gaul.  Caesar landed near Deal, and found a much mole
formidable opposition than he had expected, the natives displaying
considerable military skill with the most determined courage.  The
Romans, indeed, gained some advantages; but Caesar soon becam
sensible that the conquest of the island required a much greater
force than had yet been brought against it, and was not to be
achieved in a single campaign.  The approach of winter in the
country of an enemy whose spirit seemed to be roused to the most
desperate resistance, gave him  some alarm  for the safety of his
army; and, therefore, binding the conquered parts of the country
*aC' To yield to misfortunes, and bear them weakly, is miserable. By such
infirmity of mind, many have brought ruin on their relations and friends, some
even on their country, but more on themselves."




B. c 54.]               THE TRIUMVIRS.                     40,
to terms of submrission, he thought it prudent to re-embark his
legions, and, after settling them in winter-quarters in G-aul, returned himself to Italy, to attend to the concerns of the capital, where
the splendor of his foreign campaigns had highly increased his
popularity.
His great acquisition of fame had now sensibly obscured the
glory of Pompey, whose influence was visibly on the decline.'
To strengthen himself by the interest and by the talents of Cicero,
whom he had before so meanly abandoned, he now procured the
recall of that illustrious exile, and the repeal of the sentence of
confiscation which had deprived him of his whole property.  Cicero returned to his country after an absence of sixteen months.
His journey from  Brundisium to Rome was a triumphal procession. All Italy, as he said himself, seemed to flock together to
hail his auspicious return; that single day made his glory immortal.   He was loaded with honors; and his houses and villas,
which had been razed to the ground, were rebuilt with increased
=magnificence at the expense of the public.
By the influence of Cicero, Pompey regained for a while his
popularity.  The triumvirate, though secretly animated with mutual jealousy, still continued to support each other in their power.
Pompey and Crassus were elected consuls; the former having, for
five years, the government of Spain, and the latter that of Syria,
Greece, and Egypt. They had unlimited power to levy troops,
and to exact whatever pecuniary supplies they found necessary,'rorn the tributary princes and states under their government.
Crassus, insatiable in accumulating wealth, plundered the Eastern
provinces without mercy; but having engaged in an inconsiderate
expedition against the Parthians, he was totally defeated, his whole
army cut to pieces, and he himself and.his son were slain in the
field.
Cwesar in the meantime was prosecuting his military operations
in Gaul, and seemed to take no concern in the affairs of Rome;
yet, in reality, his influence there now regulated every measure of
importance.  His partisans, to whom  he remitted large sums of
money, overruled all p'roceedings in the comitia, and carried whatever measures of a public nature he chose to direct as instrumental to his own views.  Pompey was not blind to these views; and
the apparent union and cordiality which they yet affected to main.
tain was any thing but real.  We shall soon see an open rupture,
and a contention for undivided sovereignty, whose issue must decide the fate of the commonwealth.
"" Meus quidem reditus is fuit, ut a Brundisio usque ad Romam agmen per
uetuum totius Italize viderem. Unus ille dies mihi quidem instar immortalita,
Lis fuit."




40O                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                LBOO  XVV
CHAPTER II.
i'esar passes the Rubicon-Marches to Rome —Named Dictator- Battle'of
Pharsalia-Flight and Death of Pompey-Defeat of Pharnaces-Death of
Cato —Cmsai's- Reforms in the Roman State-Reform of the Calendar-Is
created perpetual Dictator with the title of Imperator-Character of CuesarIs assassinated-Artful conduct of Mark Antony-His ambitious viewsSecond Triumvirate-Bloody Proscription-Death of Cicero- Battle of Phi.
lippi, and End of the Republic-Battle of Actium-Death of Antony and
Cleopatra-Octavius (afterwards Augustus) sole master of the Roman Empire.
THE brilliancy of the warlike exploits of C~esar, and the influence
of his partisans in the public measures of the commonwealth, easily
procured the prolongation of his government of the Gauls, to a
period double the length of that for which it had been originally
granted.  In the course of ten years, he had reduced the greater
part of what is now called France into a Roman province; a conquest, in which his political talents were no less signally displayed
than his abilities as a general.  His Commentaries, a military journal which contains a brief and perspicuous detail of his campaigns,
are no less a proof of his excelling in those splendid features of a
public character, than of his possessing all the qualities of a skilful and eloquent historian.
The renewed term of his government was on the eve of' expiring; but this- extraordinary man had no design of relinquishing his
military command. To secure himself against a deprivation of
power, he bribed Curio, one of the tribunes, to make a proposal
-which wore the appearance of great moderation, and regard for
the public liberty. This was, that CGesar and Pompey should
either both continue in their governments-or both be recalled;
as they were equally capable of endangering the safety of the commonwealth by an abuse of power. The motion passed, and Caesar immediately offered to resign on condition that his rival should
follow his example; but Pompey rejected the proposal, probably
aware -of the real designs of Caesar, but too confidently relying
on the strength of his own party, and the influence he had with
his troops.  A civil war was the necessary consequence.  Every
connection between these two ambitious men was now at an end.
The death of Julia, the daughter of Caesar, and wife of Pompey,
dissolved that feeble bond of union which had hitherto subsisted
between them.* They were now declared enemies, and each pre* This lady died in childbed. She was beloved by Pompey with the fondest




c. 49.]           C/ESAR PASSES THE RUBICON.                 407
pared to assert, by arms, his title to an unrestrained dominion over
his country.  It is not a little surprising, that the citizens of Rome
should deliberately prepare to sacrifice their lives and fortunes ic
the decision of such a contest, with all the zeal of men who fight
for their most valuable rights and possessions.
Pompey had on his side the consuls and a great part of the
senate.  In one respect he had justice on his sides for the term
of his gov.ernment was not yet at an end, and the proposed accommodation was evidently a snare laid for him  by Caesar.  Cato and
Cicero had taken part with -ompey, which showed their sense of
the justice of his cause, for they were no false patriots.  But Caesar
had in his favor a victorious army of veteran troops, profound military skill, and a great portion of popularity gained by his general
character of huma.nity, and well-employed largesses among all ranks
of the people.
The boundary which separates Italy from  Cisalpine Gaul is a
small river named the Rubicon.  The Roman senate, aware of the
designs of Cwesar, had pronounced a decree, devoting to the infereial gods whatever;general should presume to pass this boundary
with an army, a legion, or even a single cohort.
Caesar, who, with all his ambition, inherited a large share of the
benevolent affections, did not resolve on the decisive step which
he had now taken without some compunction of mind.  Arrived
with his army at the border of his province, he hesitated for some
time, while he pictured to himself the inevitable miseries of that
civil war, in which he was now preparing to unsheatli the sword.
" If I pass this small stream," said he, " in what calamities must I
involve my country!  Yet, if I do not,.I myself am  Wuined.'
The latter consideration was too powerful.  Ambition, too, presented allurements, which to a mind like Caesar's were irresistible.
He passed the boundary, and took possession of Ariminum, where
he was joined by Mark Antony/ and Cassius.  They were at that
time tribunes of the people, and after endeavoring in vain to serve
his interest at Rome, by strenuously opposing a decree of the senate, which required Cesar to disband his army, now openly joined
hlim in the field with a considerable body of their followers.
Rome was now in the utmost alarm and consternation.  Caesar
bad with him ten legions, while Pompey, to whom the city looked
for protection, and whom the senate had invested with all authority
to defend the republic, had, with unpardonable supineness, taken
no measures to guard against a step of this kind, which he might
well have apprehended from the daring genius of his rival.  He
now ordered in haste a general levy to, be made over all Italy;
affection; and thus, in the expressive words of Velleius Paterculus, erat medium
matl coharentis inter Pompeium et Ccesarem concordice pignus,-Lib. ii. a 47.




408                   UNIVERSAL HISTORT.              [BOoK XV
but found to his mortification, that Caesar had pre-occupied the
most important places whence troops were to be drawn, and was
daily joined by fresh reinforcements.  His well-timed bounties,
and that clemency which he showed on every sut;cess of his arms,
and which was truly a part of his nature, had gained him the general favor.  The circumstance of the two tribunes espousing his
cause gave it a show of patriotism, and he now Publiclyproclaimed that his' sole purpose in leaving his governmenr was tq vindicate
the authority of the people thus injured in the persons of their magistrates.
Pompey was now sensible of his weakness.  The voice of the
public openly expressed an impatient desire for the arrival of COesar, who, on his part, was rapidly advancing to the gates of Rome,
when Pompey quitted the city, followed by the consuls and the
greater part of the senators.  Unable to collect a sufficient force
in Italy, he passed over into Epirus.  The East had been the
scene of his conquests, and thence he trusted that he would be
supplied both with troops and treasure.  Before sailing from Brundisium, he had declared that he would treat all those as enemies
who did not follow him.  Cesar, with more wisdom, declared that
he would esteem all those his friends who did not arm against him.
Caesar, by immediately following Pompey, might, perhaps, have
brought the war to a speedy termination; but, besides the want of
transports for the conveyance of his'army, he judged it hazardous
to leave Italy defenceless against the lieutenants of Polnpey, then
in considerable force in the Province of' Spain.  His first objects,
therefore, were the securing the seat of empire, and reducing the
hostile ~rmy under Pampey's officers. After making his public
entry into Rome, where he was received with the loudest acclamations, and possessing himself of the public treasury, he set out
for Spain. Marseilles, which lay in his route, had declared for
his rival, but leaving Trebonius to besiege it, he proceeded in his
march to meet the lieutenants of Pompey, Afranius and Petreius.
These he speedily'subdued, and, compelling them to yield at discretion, sent them home to Rome to proclaim his clemency and
moderation.  In the space of forty days all Spain submitted to the
arms of Caesar, and he returned victorious to Rome, where, in his
absence, he had been proclaimed dictator.  In that quality, he presided at the annual election of the chief magistrates of the state, and
was himself elected consul.  He had now that legal title to act in
the name of the republic, which he had hitherto wanted.  If the
power of an usurper is capable  of being validated by the subse.
quent voluntary sanction of those over whom it is usurped, Caesar
had now that ratification.
Meantime Pompey was strenuously collecting forces in Greece,
Macedonia, and Epirus. He likewise drew large supplies from the
sovereigns of Asia, and had already mustered an army of five
legions, with five hundred ships of war, under the command of




B c. 45.]           BATTLE OF PHARSALIA.                 409
Bibulus.  Cesar embarked at Brundisium with an equal armament of five legions, and the two armies came in sight of each
other near Dyrrachium, in Illyria.  After one doubtful engagement, in which the advantage was rather on the side of Pompey,
Casar led him on to Macedonia, where he had two additional
legions under his lieutenant Calvinus.  Pompey, who was easily
elated with every appearance of success, flattered himself that
this was a retreat upon the part of his enemy.  He was, therefore, anxious to come up with him, and eager to terminate the war
by a general engagement. This was exactly what Caesar wished.
This important battle was fought in the field of Pharsalia.  The
army of Pompey amounted to forty-five thousand foot, and seven
thousand horse, which was more than double that of his rival;
and so confident of victory were the former, that they had adorned
their tents with festoons of laurel and myrtle, and prepared a
splendid banquet against their return from the battle.  Vain and
presumptuous preparations! Of this immense army, fifteen thousand were left dead on the field, and twenty-four thousand surrendered themselves prisoners of war, and cheerfully incorporated
themselves into the army of the victor, whose loss, in all, did not
exceed two hundred men.  Caesar found in the camp of Pompey,
all his papers, containing the correspondence he carried on with
the chief of his partisans at Rome.  The sagacious and magnanimous chief committed them unopened to the flames, declaring that
he wished rather to be ignorant who were his enemies, than to be
obliged to punish them.
After this fatal engagement, Pompey experienced all the miseries of a fugitive.  The last scenes of the life of this illustrious
man afford a striking picture of the vicissitudes of fortune, and the
instability of all human greatness.  He passed the first night, after
his defeat, in the solitary hut of a fisherman upon the seacoast;
Thence he went on board a vessel, which landed him first at
Amphipolis; whence he sailed to Lesbos, where his wife Cornelia
was waiting, in anxious expectation, the issue of the late decisive
conflict. They metupon the seashore. Pompey embraced her
without uttering a word, and this silence spoke at once the whole
extent of her misfortune. They fled for protection to Egypt, where
Pompey expected to find a welcome asylum at the court of the
young Ptolemy, whose father Auletes had owed to him his settlement upon the throne.  But Ptolemy was then at war with his
sister Cleopatra, to whom their father had jointly bequeathed the
kingdom; and his ministers, apprehending that Pompey would take
the part of Cleopatra, in order to enforce that settlement of which
the Roman people were appointed the executors, immediately
determined his destruction. The ship which carried Pompey and
Cornelia had approached within sight of the land, and he despatched
a messenger ashore desiring an audience of the Egyptian monarch.
A single boat rowed off from the land, in which came some offiVOL. I.               52




410                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               LBOOEK IV
cers wtlh orders to bring him on shore; and he parted with many
tears from Cornelia, who was justly apprehensive of his safety, but
could not foresee all the misery of his fate.
They were still in sight of the ship, and Pompey, who began to
fear that he was betrayed, sought to ingratiate himself with those
to whom he was now a prisoner.  He reminded some of them  of
having served under his banners, when a'few years before he was
the conqueror of the East; but they, answering nothing, rowed on
in gloomy silence till they reached the land.  While Pompey rose
to step on shore, he received the stroke of a dagger in his side,
and, decently covering his face with his robe, resigned himself to
his fate.  They cut off his head, and cast his body naked upon
the sand; where a faithful slave, who had attended him, stealing
to the place during the silende of the night, made a small funeral
pile from the fragments of a boat, and burnt the body, carrying
the ashes to Cornelia.  " Princeps Romani nominis imperio arbitrioque Egyptii mancipii jugalatus est.  Hic post tres consulatus,
et totidem triumphos, domitumque terrarum orbem, vitae fuit exitus.
In tanturn in illo viro a se discordante fortuna, ut cui modo ad victoriam terra defuerat, deesset ad sepulturam."*
Cmsar, being told of'the course which Pompey had steered,
sailed directly to Alexandria. When informed of his fate, lie could
not restrain his tears; and when his murderers presented to him
the head of that unhappy man, which they judged must have been
to him a grateful spectacle, he turned aside with horror from  the
sight.  He caused every honor to be paid to his memory, and from
that time showed the utmost indulgence and even beneficence to
the partisans of his unfortunate rival.  Those men have a bad opinion of human nature, who ascribe this conduct altogether to a refined
policy, and account Caesar only the greater hypocrite, the more examples he showed of the milder virtues.  An hypothesis so contrary to every rule of candid judgment, is contradicted by the whole
tenor of this truly great man's life.
Ptolemy Auletes, the father of the present sovereign of Egypt,
lad named, as we before remarked, the Roman people as the
executors of his testamentary settlement of the kingdom; and
Caesar, as acting in the name of the republic, now took on himself the right of deciding between the pretensions of Cleopatra
and her brother:   The charms of Cleopatra had probably their
influence on this decision.  Such, at least, was the allegation of
the partisans of the young Ptolemy, who for several rmonths main* "He, the noblest of the Roman name, fell by the orders of an Egyptian
bondsman.-Such was the miserable end of him who had thrice borne the dignity of consul, thrice been honored with a triumph, and been, in fact, the lord
of the world. In him so great was the reverse of fortune, that he, who but
lately found the earth too small for his conquests, could not now command
enough to cover his remains."-Vell. Pater. ii. 25.




Bi. c 47.4                   CMSAR.                            411
tained his cause by force of arms, and besieged Caesar in the city
of Alexandria.  In this war the young Ptolemy was killed, and
an accide* happened of which the general consequences were
more to be deplored; the greater part of the celebrated library of
the Ptolemies was burnt to the ground.* The issue of the war
would probably have been' fatal to Caesar, had he not received
timely succors from Asia. Thus reinforced he brought the kingdom of Egypt. under complete subjection, bestowing the sovereignty jointly on Cleopatra and a younger Ptolemy, a child of
eleven years of age, the brother of the last prince.
Ile now turned his arms against Pharnaces, the son of Mithridates, who had seized the kingdom  of Pontus, and meditated,
after his father's example, to strip the Romans of their Asiatic
possessions.  This'war he very speedily terminated, intimating its
issue to his friends at Rome in three words, Veni, vidi, vici.t
Thus having established order and tranquillity in the East, Caesar.
returned to Rome, whllere he was' elected consul for the ensuing
year, and dictator, being the third time he had enjoyed both these
dignities.  Rome stood in need of his presence; for the troops
which, under the command of Mark-Antony, had remained in Italy,
had spread universal disorder and anarchy.  The partisans of his
late rival were at the same time in arms in Africa, headed by Scipio
and Cato, who, together with the sons of Pompey, had fled thither
after the defeat of Pharsalia, and received cordial aid from  Juba,
king of Mauritania.  Caesar, therefore, found the chief obstacle to
his ambition in this quarter, and embarking for Africa, was obliged
for some time to act with the greatest caution, and avoid a general
engagement, with an enemy whose effective force-s greatly outnumbered his own.  He gained, however, several advantages, and
his high reputation, together with the prevailing opinion of that
prosperous fortune which had. hitherto attended all his enterprises,
caused daily desertions to his standards from the ranks of his enemies.   A  favorable  situation  at length  presenting  itself, he
engaged the allied army at Thapsus, and obtained a complete victory.   Scipio  perished in his passage to' Spain.   Cato alone
remained, whose indomitable spirit no reverse of fortune was capable of forcing to yield to any terms of submission.  With an undaunted resolution, he shut himself up in Utica with a few noble
spirits, who, like himself, disdained to yield to the master of Rome.
He formed the principal citizens into a senate, and for some time
* The royal library of Alexandria was said to consist of seven hundred thousand volumes: of these four hundred thousand, deposited in the quarter of the
city called Bruchion, were destroyed on this occasion; the other part, containing three hundred thousand, was within the Serapeum, and escaped the flames;
there it was that Cleopatra deposited the two hundred thousand volumes of
the Pergamean library, given to her by Mark Antony. This was increased from
ge to age, till it was finally burnt by the caliph Omar, in A. D. 642.
t " I came, I saw, I conquered."




41e                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK IV
cherished tl,. desperate purpose of holding out the town against
the whole force which Caesar could bring against it. But thle
spirits of his party were not equal to his own, andoome of his
friends venturing to hint a wish for a timely capitulation, Cato
counselled them  to provide as they judged -best for their owa
safety.  After supper, during which he conversed with his usual
cheerfulness, he retired to his apartment, and for awhile occupied
himself in perusing Plato's Dialogue on the Immortality of the
Soul.  He then composed himself to sleep, and after a short
repose, inquiring whether his friends had saved themselves by
flight, and being assured that all was well, he calmly fell upon his
sword.
Juba was now driven from his-kingdom, and Mauritania became
a Roman province.  The victorious Caesar returned to Rome.
The natural clemency of his disposition now signally displayed
itself: he remembered no longer that there had been opposite
parties, but showed the same humane indulgence to the fiiends of
Pompey, as if they had never been his enemies.  Many of them
h1  raised to offices of dignity and emolument, and found them
henceforward the most attached of his partisans.  He was decreed
a splendid triumph, and on that occasion gratified the people with
the most magnificent games and entertainments.  Master of the
state, he from this time employed his whole attention in contributing to its prosperity and happiness.  He turned his mind to the
reformation of abuses of every kind. He repressed luxury by
sumptuary laws; stimulated industry by rewards; and by sedulously promoting the comforts of the lower class of citizens, gave
the most effectual enc6uragement to population.  While he thus
advanced the prosperity of the capital, he introduced order and
economy into the government of the provinces, where hitherto
every species of oppression and peculation had been permitted and
countenanced.
The genius of Caesar was not confined to the arts of government,
but carried its researches into every branch-of science and philosophy.  The duration of the year at this time was twelve lunar
months, with an intercalation of twenty-two or twenty-three days,
alternately, at the end of every two years: but the pontiffs either
introduced or omitted the intercalation according to circumstances,
as they wanted to abridge or prolong the time of the magistrates'
continuing in office-and thus there was the greatest confusion in
the calendar.  Caesar, who was a proficient in astronomy, and to
whose writings in that science even Ptolemy confesses that he owed
information, corrected the errors of the calendar, by fixing the solar
year at three hundred and sixty-five days, with an intercalation of
one day every fourth year.*
Romulus divided the year i nto ten months, which consisted of three hun



B. c. 45.]               CASSAR IMPER'ATOR.                      413
The sons of Pompey, Cneius and Sextus, attempted to rekindle'the war in Spain; but they were soon subdued by Caesar in a
decisive engagement at Munda.  Returning from  this expedition
to Rome, he was hailed the Father of his Country, was created
consul for ten  years, and perpetual dictator.  His person  was
declared sacred; as a symbol of which, he was allowed to wear
constantly a circlet of laurel, hitherto the temporary distinction of
a triumphant general.  In like manner the epithet of imperator,
which was only occasionally bestowed on the commander of a
victorious army, was  now conferred on Caesar as a perpetual title
of honor, as he was invested for life with the power of chief commander of the whole armies of the state.
By these public acts and decrees of tke Roman people, accumulating the most despotic powers of sovereignty in the person
of an individual, the commonwealth of Rome had now voluntarily
resigned its liberties: the ancient republican constitution was at an
end. there were none who either had an interest or a desire to
maintain it; for the passion for manly independence, and the anxious vindication of their rights as free citizens, which in former
tines animated the great body  of the people, and  checked  all
inordinate ambition in individuals, had now given place to that
selfish spirit which is content with the pleasures of -luxury, and
seeks the gratification of its narrow  schemes of enjoyment by
courting the favor of a sovereign or meanly flattering his passions. The Roman liberty, as Montesquieu has well observed,
was not extinguished by the ambition of a Pompey or of a Caesar.
If the sentiments of Caesar and Pompey had been the same with
those of Cato, others would have cherished the same ambitious
thoughts which they discovered; and since the republic was fated
to fall,.there never would have been wanting a hand to drag it to
destruction.
Yet though the fall of a constitution is the necessary and undred and four days; but Numa added two orter months, January and February,
which made his year to contain three hundred and fifty-four days. But this
computation falling short of the space of a regular year by ten days and six
hours nearly, occasioned every eighth year an interposition of three whole
months, which they called the intercalary or leap year. The care of making
this interialation being left to the priests, they introduced or omitted a month
whenever they pleased, till at last there was such disorder, that festivals came
to be kept at a season quite different from that of their first institution. To
remedy these abuses, Julius Cesar added the odd ten days to Numa's year; and
lest the odd six hours should create confusion, he ordered that every fourth
year one whole day should be inserted, next after the twenty-third of February,
or next before the sixth of the calends of March; for which reason the supernumerary day was called dies bis-sextus, and thence the leap year came to be
called annus bis-sextilis. This is the Julian or Old Style. Yet because there
wanted eleven minutes in the six odd hours of Julius's year, the equinoxes and
solstices, losing something continually,-were found, about the year 1584, to
have run back ten whole days: for which reason Pope Gregory XIII, cut off
ten days to bringr themn to their proper places, and this is called the Grego.
rinan or New Style.




414                      UT'IVLtRSAL IIISTORY.               [BooK IV
avoidable consequence of the decay of those principles by which
it had originally been supported, men must reprobate the instrument of usurpation by which their ruin is finally accomplished.  In
this point of view the conduct of Caesar cannot'be vindicated on
the score of right.  He-was an usurper; and had it been possible
to restore the Roman liberty and the ancient fabric of the commonwealth by the extinction of the tyrant, an open and manly use
of the sword for his destruction had been a meritorious and patriotic
attempt.  But here lay the delusion: it may be the fact, that those
men who accomplished the death of Caesar acted upon principles
truly virtuous and patriotic; they  did  perhaps believe, that by
his death, they would restore the liberty and ancient constitution
of their country: but we must deplore the narrowness of their
views who did not perceive that an internal principle of corruption
had annihilated the one, and must have proceeded to extinguish
the other, although Julius Caesar had  never been  born.  Even
Cicero, whose political principles led him  to approve of the death
bf Casar, candidly owns that the republic gained nothing by that
event: —" Interfecto domino, liberi non sumus: non fuit dominus
ille fugiendus: sublato enim tyranno, tyrannida manere video." *
The personal character, too, of this illustrious man has greatly
contributed to increase the censure of those who conspired and
accomplished his death; t but in impartial reasoning on the merit
or demerit of this action, it is not equitable to allowjsforce to such
considerations.
The magnificent schemes of a public nature which Cesar had
formed would certainly have contributed both to his own  glory
and to the interest and happiness of the people whom he governed; and a just sense of these benefits was doubtless the principal
-'~ The master is slain, but we are not the more free. It was not he who
was to be dreaded.  The tyrant is indeed removed, but the tyranny remains.'
Cic. ad Attic. xiv. 14.
f Julius Caesar united in himself more of the advantages of mind and body
than perhaps, any of his contemporaries, and to these were added the splendor
of ancestry; for he could trace his pedigree, on his mother's side, up to Ancus
Martius; and the Julian family, of which he was the head, were generally believed to have descended from  the Trojan AEneas.  Velleius Paterculus thus
shortly enumerates these striking characteristics of Caesar:-" Hic nobilissima
Juliorum  genitus familia, et quod inter omnes antiquissimos con~Tabat, ab
Anchise et Venere deducens genus, forma olnnium  civium excellentissimus,
vigore animi acerrimus, munificentia effusissimus, animo supra humanam et
naturam et fidem evectus, magnitudine cogitationum, celeritate bellandi, patientia periculorum, magno illi Alexandro, sed sobrio nee iracundo, simillimus."
Vell. Pat. ii. 41.
" Born of the most illustrious family of the Julii, and tra6ing his highest descent from Anchises and Venus, he excelled all his fellow citizens in the graces
of his person, the vigor of his mind, and the splendor of his munificence; and
that to a degree not only beyond human nature, but beyond human conception:
in the magnitude of his designs, his promptitude in war, his indifference to
danger, he was the equal of the great Alexander, but in command over himself
far his superior."




P. c. 44.]            DEATH OF CIESAR.                     415
cause of his popu.arity while alive, and' of the splendid reputation
which has attended his memory. He had proposed to collect,
arrange, and methodize the laws of his country.  He had employed the most learned men of his times to collect' libraries for
the public use.  He had planned the most magnificent structures
for the embellishment of the city, and the preservation of the
public records.  He projected the draining of the marshes of Italy,
which rendered the whole country unwholesome; the deepening
the bed of the Tiber, and the construction of a harbor at the
mouth of that river capable of receiving the largest vessels both
for war and merchandise.  We have noticed the reforms which
he introduced in the government of the provinces.  He proposed
to have a complete survey and geographical delineation made of
the whole Rotnan empire. These were certainly schemes equally
splendid and beneficial to the public.  They create a just admiration of the character of Caesar, and maike us regret that blind and
infatuated zeal which frustrated the accomplishment of those great
designs, without giving in exchange for them any real or substantial
good.
It was almost the only weakness of this truly great man, that,
possessing the reality of sovereign power, he was not satisfied
without obtaining likewise its external pageantry.  To gratify this
frivolous passion, the senate had decreed him the privilege of constantly wearing the triumphal robe, of having a gilded chair of state,
and of taking the precedence of all the magistrates of the commonwealth.  He was allowed a constant escort of knights and senators;
his birthday was ordained to be solemnized as a festival through the
whole empire, and a temple was built and priests appointed to offer
sacrifice unto the Julian Jupiter.  It was generally believed that he
coveted a yet more dangerous distinction, and had determined that
the title of KING, which, from the days of the last Tarquin, had
been odious to every Roman ear, should be revived in his person.
The report was current that a party of the senators had determined
to crown him in public by that. title on the ides of March. A conspiracy had been for some time formed, at the head of which were
Marcus Brutus and Caius Cassius, whom Caesar had placed on the
list of praetors, and intrusted with the higher jurisdiction of the city
— the former a man whom he had reason to believe most sincerely
attached to him, as he had saved his life at the battle of Pharsalia,
and given him numberless proofs of his affection.  The conspirators determined to execute their purpose on that day which had
been destined for bestowing on Caesar the regal title.  He had no
sooner taken his place in the senate-house, than the conspirators,
surrounding him, plunged their daggers into his body: he defended
himself for some time, till seeing Brutus among the assassins, whom
he had always distinguished by the epithet of his son, he resigned.
himself to his fate, and fell, pierced with twenty-three wounds, at
the foot of Pompey's statue.




416                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK IV
The conspirators had no sooner accomplished their purpose, than
they ran through the streets of the city, proclaiming aloud that,
the king of, Rome was dead; but the effect did not answer their
expectation.  The people, almost to a man, seemed struck with
horror! at the deed. They loved Casar, master as he was of their
lives and liberties.  Mark Antony, who was consul, and Lepidus,
the general of the horse, ambitious themselves of succeeding to the
power of dictator, resolved to pave the way for it by avenging his
death.  The senate was convoked to determine whether the ordinances of the late dictator had- the force of law;-that i$ to say,
whether Caesar was an usurper, or was invested'with legal authority.  It was a nice question, but it required an immediate determination.  The senators were of opposite opinions.  The party
of the assassins was formidable, from the experience of what they
had the courage. to attempt: yet the extreme disorder that must
have ensued from annulling all the laws and regulations of the
dictator made it a thing impossible to be thought of in the present
situation of affairs.  The senate had recourse to an equivocal,
and, in fact, a contradictory decree; which was, to confirm all the
laws of Caesar, and to declare at the samne time that his murderers
should not be prosecuted.  But the latter part of this decree was
evaded by the art of Antony, who determined to call forth the
vengeance of'the people upon the heads of those men whom he
justly regarded as the chief obstacles to his own designs of ambition.
Caesar had adopted Caius Octavius, the grandson of his sister
Julia, and left him  heir to the greatest part of his fortune.  He
had appointed several of the conspirators themselves for his tutors,
and had bequeathed a large legacy to the people of Rome, to be
divided among the whole of the citizens.  These bequests redoubled
the affection of the people, and they flocked to attend his obsequies, penetrated with the highest regard to his memory, and with
the utmost indignation against his murderers.  Mark Antony took
advantage of these favorable dispositions.  The body being laid on
a couch of state in the fortum, he mounted the consul's tribunal,
and after reading the decree of the senate, which had conferred
upon Caesar even the honors due to a divinity, he entered into an
enumeration of all his illustrious achievements for the glory and
aggrandizement of the state: he then proceeded to recount the
examples of his clemency, and heightened all his virtues with the
most pathetic eloquence.  "By these titles we have sworn that
his person should be held sacred and inviolable; and here (said
he) behold the force of our oaths."  At these words he lifted up
the robe which covered the body, and holding it out to the people,
who melted into tears, he showed it all covered with blood, and
pierced with the daggers of the conspirators.  A general cry of
vengeance was heard.  The populace strove to increase the funeral
nile, by throwing into it their most precious effects; while numbers




D. c. 44.]          fBSEqUIES OF CMSAR.                   417
ran to destroy and set fire to the houses of the murderess.  These
at first fl ed to the capitol for safety; but finding their lives even
there in the utmost hazard, prudently quitted the city, and sought
shelter in tile distant province's.
The  Consul Antony, by the steps he had hitherto taken,
wanted only to sound the dispositions of the people.  Finding
these to his wish, he very soon began to discover his own views
of ambition.  lie was possessed of the whole of the dictator's
papers.  He had received likewise from  Calpurnia, the widow,
all the treasures of Caesar.  Not content with these, he made a
traffic of fabricating acts and deeds, to which he counterfeited the
dictator's subscription, and availed himself of them  as genuine.
He next persuaded the senate, on pretence that his personal safety
was in danger, to allow him  a guard; and under that decree, he
chose six thousand of the ablest veterans, whom he embodied and
armed.  Thus secured, he found hiniself absolute master in Rome.
In all revolutions there are critical momnents when all that is requisite to the attainment of the supreme power is the courage to
assume it.
But the ambition of Antony was frustrated by the measures of.a rival against whom he had not provided, The young Octavius
arrived in Rome; and declaring himself the heir of Cesar, found
no other title necessary to gain the favor of the people,-a powerCut stimulant to the ambitious plan he had secretly formed of succeeding to the fill power of the dictator.  Pursuing the same
object with Antony, it was impossible they could long be on good
terms.  An open: rupture ensued on account of the government
of Cisalpine Gaul, which Antony, in opposition to the will of the
dictator, who had decreed it to Decimus Brutus, endeavored to
secure for himself.  This province, from its vicinity to the capital,
was always of prime importance to the ruler of the state..Octavius on this occasion armed against him, in order to enforce
the will of ihis adopted father.  He had the address to persuade
the senate into his views, and to inspire them with a dread of the
ambition of his rival. *But after some indecisive acts of hostility,
Octavius gnd Antony, finding their parties very nearly balanced,
judged it for the present to be their most prudent scheme to unite
their interests, and to admit into their association Lepidus, who
then enjoyed the government of Transalpine Gaul.  Thus was
fortned the second triumvirate, the effects of whose union were
beyond measure dreadful.  Octavius, Mark Antony, and Lepidus
held a conference in a small island in thee middle of the river Po.
They agreed that, under the title of Triumviri, they should possess
themselves of absolute authority; and they made a partition on
the. spot of all the provinces, and divided between them the command of the legions. Lepidus had Gallia Narbonnensis and
Spain; Antony had Cisalpine. and Transalpine Gaul; Octavius
contented himself with Africa, Sicily, and Sardinia. None of them
VOL. I.              53




418        -UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                         "BOOK IV
ventured to appropriate to himself Italy; because they affected to
regard that country as the communis patria, which they were all
equally bound to protect and defend.  The eastern provinces were
as yet possessed by Brutus and the other conspirators, against
whom  it was determined that Antony and Octavius should immediately march with a large- army.
Before entering, however, upon this expedition, it was resolved
to clear the way by a proscription of all that were obnoxious to any
one of the triumviri: a dreadful resolution! since the firmest friends
of any one of the three had necessarily been the enemies of the
others.  What souls niust those men have possessed who could
advise or consent to so horrible a scheme!  Lepidus agreed to
sacrifice his brother Paulus; Antony, his uncle Lucius Casar;
Octavius, his guardian Torranius, and his friend  Cicero.  The
latter had been won by the flattery of Octavius, to espouse his
interest by unmasking the ambitious design of Antony to succeed
to the power of the dictator; on which occasion, Cicero pronounced his famous Philippics, in imitation of the orations of Demosthenes to rouse the spirit of the Greeks against the designs of
the Macedonian tyrant.  It was no wonder, then, that Antony
should mark this illustrious man as a certain victim of his revenge.
Cicero, who had never been remarkable for strength.of mind,
showed more magnanimity on this occasion than he had ever before manifested.  When informed that his name was included in
the proscription, he yielded at first to the earnest persuasion of his
friends to attempt to save himself by flight: but on being informed
that the country was beset by his enemies, so as to leave no chance
for his escape, he desired to be carried to one of his own villas.
On perceiving the approach of a band of soldiers, who were commissioned to assassinate him, he ordered his litter to be stopped,
beheld his murderers with a fixed regard, and stretched out his neck
to the blow.  A fragment of one of the lost books of Livy gives
a striking description of this last scene in the life of Cicero.  After
judiciously remarking, that amidst all the reverses of fortune which
this great man had undergone, it was only on this last occasion that
he displayed true magnanimity, the historian adds these words: Siquis tamen virtutibus vitia pensarit, vir magnus, acer, memorabalis
fuit, et in cujus laudes persequendas Cicerone laudatore opus fuerit.*
In this horrible proscription, 300 senators and 3,0060 Roman knights
were put to death in cold blood.
Satiated, at length, with murder, the triumvirate prepared for
their expedition against the conspirators.  Lepidus remained in
Rome, while Antony and Octavius marched against Brutus and
Cassius, then in Macedonia.  No Roman armies had ever been
""But weighing his great qualities with his failings, he was a great and
most able man, to do justice to whose praises would require. a second Cicero.'




B.o.. 32]            BATTLE OF PHILIPPI.                  419
seen equal in number to those which were now to decide the fate
of the world.  Each party led into the field above 100,000 men.
They met near the town of Philippi, on the confines of Macedonia.  This decisive battle was fought on both sides with the most
desperate courage.  Brutus was victorious at the head of that division which he commanded; but too rashly pursuing his success,
he separated himself from the main body of the army, which in
t.he meantime was vigorously attacked by Antony, and entirely
broken.  Cassius, ignorant of what had become of Brutus, and
believing that all was lost, obliged one of his own freedmen to put
him to death.  The plan of Brutus, who had come off in safety
with a large body of men, was evidently now to avoid a second
engagement: but his troops, flushed with their individual success,
forced him to come to actioh, and he was totally defeated.  Convinced that the chances of success were now irretrievably gone,
and well-assured of the fate he had to expect from the conquerors,
he chose to deprive his enemies at least of one victim, and, fulling on his sword, he died the death of his friend Cassius.
Octavius appears in this decisive action to have behaved in no
heroic manner.  It was even asserted that he chose to post himself among the baggage in the rear, during the whole time" of the
engagement; and such a report, even if we suppose it a falsehood, is, at least, a proof that he had not the reputation of valor.
Mark Antony had real courage, and after victory displayed that
generosity which is ever its attendant; while the former exhibited
a cruelty of nature which is the inseparable companion of cowardice.  Ite caused the niost distinguished of the prisoners to be
slaughtered before his eyes, and even insulted them in the agonies
of death.
The Triumnvirs were obliged to gratify their troops with very
high rewards.  To furnish a supply for that necessary purpose,
Antony  went into Asia, where he levied the most exorbitant contributions from  the tributary states.  While in Cilicia, he sunmmoned Cleopatra, who,, by assassinating her brother, had secured
to herself the undivided sovereignty of Egypt, to appear before
him, and answer for her conduct in allowing Serapion, her lieutenant in the isle of Cyprus, to send succors to Cassius. The queen
came to Tarsus.  IHer beauty, the splendor of her suite and equipage, and the artful allurements of her manners, made a complete
conquest of the triumvir.  He forgot glory, ambition, fame, and
every thing for Cleopatra.  Octavius, meantime, thought of nothing
but his own interest and exaltation, to which he regarded the:infatuation of Antony as a most happy preparative.
The younger Pomnpey had taken possession of Sicily, of Sardinia, and Corsica.  Octavius now turned his attention to this quarter; but incapable himself of commanding in a military expedition, he employed Marcus Agrippa, a' man of uncommnon talents,
whom he had raised from obscurity to the consulship; and who




420                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK XV
very speedily compelled Pompey to evacuate Sicily and all nis
other possessions, and fly into Asia, where he was put to death by
the lieutenants of Antony.
Octavius now determined to rid himself of the partners of his
power.  Lepidus, a man of an indolent character and no talent,
had already lost all credit, even with his own troops.  The legions
under his command, won by the bribes and promises of Octavius,,
deserted their general, who, sensible of his own insufficiency,
sought permission to retire to Circaerm, on the Latian coast,
where he passed the remainder -of his life in quiet obscurity.  It
has been well remarked of this man, who for some time sustained
a high part in the political drama of the times, that he had neither
those virtues nor those vices for which the names of men are transanitted with distinction to posterity.
Antony, in the meantime, intoxicated with Eastern luxury and
debauchery, was daily sinking in the esteem of his army. In the
madness of his passion for Cleopatra, he had proclaimed her queen
of Egypt, Cyprus, Africa, and Ccelo-Syria; and lavished kingdoms and-provinces on the children that were the fruit of her various amours. These shameless proceedings reflected dishonor on
the Roman name, and deprived him of the esteem  of his best
friends; and the imprudent measure he now took in divorcing his
wife Octavia, the sister of his colleague, was a justifiable cause for
their coming to an open rupture, and appealing to the sword to
decide their claim to undivided sovereignty of the empire.  Octavius had foreseen this issue, and made formidable preparations,
which Antony had supinely neglected.  He trusted chiefly to his
fleet, and was persuaded by Cleopatra to rest the fortune of the
war on a naval engagement, which was fought near Actium  in
Epirus.  In the heat of the battle, which was maintained for some
time with equal spirit, Cleopatra, with her Egyptian armament of
sixty galleys, took to flight; and what is scarcely conceivable, such
was the infatuation of Antony, that he followed her, leaving his
fleet to fight for themselves.  After a contest of some hours, they
yielded to the squadron of Octavius. The army of Antony,
which had witnessed this engagement from the land, held out for
a few days, in hopes of the return of their commarder, but at
length seeing their expectation vain, they surrendered to the victor.
The flight of Cleopatra had been attributed by Antony to
female timidity; but her subsequent conduct gave full reason to
believe it shameful treachery.  Octavius pursued  the fugitives
to Egypt, where Antony, in desperate infatuation, gave himself
up entirely to riot and debauchery, still blind to the treacherous
character of his paramour, who, in the meantime, was carrying on
a secret negotiation with Octavius, on whom she vainly imagined
that her persbnal charms might have such influence as to procure
her association in the supreme power and government of the Ro



HS. Ila.j J  NATIONAL CHARACTER OF THE ROMANS.               421
man empire.  In this view she surrendered to him the sovereignty
of Egypt, while, without positively assenting to her terms, Octa.vius gave her reason to believe that he was not disinclined to an
accommodation that would gratify her utmost ambition.
Meantime' Octavius advancing with his army to besiege Pelu.
sium, its governor, instructed by Cleopatra, surrendered the city
at discretion, and this event was followed by the surrender of the
Egyptian fleet. The eyes of Antony were at length opened.
He plainly saw that he was betrayed.  A report which Cleopatra
caused to be spread, that she had put an end to her life, hastened
the fate of her injured lover, who died by his own hand; and
Cleopatra, soon after, discovering that all arts were lost upon Octavius, who had determined to treat her as a captive, now executed in reality what she had before feigned, and put herself to
death by the poison of an asp.
Octavius returned to Italy, sole master of the Roman Empire.
Le owed his elevation to no manly virtue or heroism  of character.
A concurrence of happy circumstances, the adoption of the great
Julius, the weakness of Lepidus, the folly and infatuation of Antony, the treachery of Cleopatra, and, above all, his own address
and artifice, were the instruments of his fortune.
At this remarkable period, the end of the Commonwealth of
Rome, it may be well to suspend for a while our historical narrative, and interpose some brief observations on the general character of Roman education; the state of literature at this period; the
predominant tastes and passions of this remarkable people; and
the system of their military art.
CHAPTER III.
bon the Genius and National Character of the Romans-System of Roman Ed.
ucation-Progress of Literature-The Drama-Historians-Poets.
IN the present chapter, we are to attend to those particular circumstances which appear most peculiarly to mark the genius, and
to have formed the national character of the Romans.
A  virtuous but rigid severity of manners was the characteristic
of the Romans under their kings, and during the first ages of the
republic.  The private life of the citizens was frugal, temperate,
and laborious, and it reflected its influence on their public charac,




422                   UNIVERSAL HIsTORY.                [BOOK IV.
ter.  The children imbibed from their infancy the highest veneras
tion for their parents, who, from  the extent of the paternal power
among the Romans, had an unlimited authority over their wives,
their offspring, and their slaves.  It is far from natural to the hu-1
man mind that the possession of power and authority should form
a tyrannical disposition.  Where that authority, indeed, has been
usurped by violence, its possessor may, perhaps, be tempted to
maintain it by tyranny; but where it is either a right dictated by
nature, or the easy effect of circumstances and situation, the very
consciousness of authority is apt to inspire a beneficence and humanity in the manner of exercising it. ThFs we find the ancient
Romans, although absolute sovereigns in their families, with the
jts vitce et necis, the right of life and death over their children,
and their slaves, were yet excellent husbands, kind and affectionate
parents, humane and indulgent masters. Nor was it until luxury
had corrupted the virtuous simplicity of the ancient manners, that
this paternal authority, degenerating into tyrannical abuses, required to be abridged in its power, and restrained in its exercise by the
enactment of laws.
By an apparent contradiction, so long as the paternal authority
was absolute, the slaves and children were happy: when it became
weakened and abridged, then it was that its terrors were, from the
excessive corruption of manners, most severely felt.  Even, however, under the first emperors, the Patria Potestas remained in its
full force, and the custom of the patres-familias sitting at mneaIs
with their slaves and children, showed that there still remained
some venerable traces of that ancient and virtuous simplicity.*
Plutarch, in his comparison between Numa and Lycurgus, has
bestowed a severe censure eon the Roman lawgiver, for his neglecting to establish a system, or to institute any fixed rules for the
education of the Roman youth.  But the truth is, that although
the laws. prescribed no such system, or general plan of discipline,
like those of Sparta, yet there never existed a people who bestowed
more attention on the education of their youth.  In the dialogue,
De Oratoribus,t: attributed by some authors to Tacitus, by others
to Quintilian, there is a fine passage which shows in a remarlkanle
manner that extreme care bestowed, even in the earliest infancy,
to form the manners and disposition of the Roman children.  From
this passage we learn, that, in the earlier ages of the Roman cornsmmonwealth, such was that anxious care bestowed on their children
by the Roman matrons,-such that jealousy of their receiving any
of their earliest impressions from  slaves or domestics, —that they
*  O noctes cEnntque Defim, quibus ipse, meique
Ante Larem proprium vescor, vernasque procaces
Pasco libatis dapibus prout cuique libido est."
HORACE.
Dialogus de Oratoribus, cap. xxviii. "Jampridem suus cuique filius," &.,




cll. lIl.]             ROMAN EDUCXTION.                        423
not only educated their own children, but accounted  it an honorable employment to superintend and assist in educating the children of their relations.
Nor was this task of the mother confined, only to the years of
infancy and boyhood: it extended its influence to the more ad
vanced periods of youth.  At a much later period of the Roman
history, we are informed by'Tacitus, in his Life of Agricola, that
this remarkable man had begun in his youth to pursue too ardently
the -study of philosophy, but that he was checked by the prudent
remonstrances of his mother. *
To inspire that severe and rigid virtue which can alone support
a democratic form of government, and to inculcate that exclusive
love of our country, before which, in their early ages, every private
or personal feeling was constrained to bow, was the first and most
sacred duty of these noble matrons.  The circumstances in which
the commonwealth was situated in its earlier ages made this absolutely necessary.  It possessed none of those artificial modes of
defence so generally employed by the modern nations. The improvements of modern warfare, which substitute skill so often in
the place of valor,-the fortifications'of our modern cities, which
render them, in some measure, independent of the personal exertions of those who defend them,-had not been introduced amongst
this virtuous people.  Those refinements, also, in the arts and manufactures which exchange the little enjoyments of private comfort
for the higher feelings of public happiness, and even that progress
in the sciences, which, however excellent in its general consequences, encourages certainly a spirit of exclusion most uncongenial to
public exertion,-all these were either unknown or despised in the
severer ages of the Roman republic.
Next to this care of the mother, or the female tutor, in instilling
the rigid principle of patriotic virtue, a very remarkable degree of
attention appears to have been bestowed by the Romans in accustoming their children to correctness of language and purity of expression.  Cicero informs us that the Gracchi were educated non
tam  in gremino qucam in sermone matris.  And in speaking of Curio, who was one of thle best orators of his time, he adds, that
without possessing the rules of his art, and without any knowledge
of the laws, he had attained to eminence I merely from  the elegance and purity of his diction,
This attention to the language of children may appear, in these
modern days, an absurd and useless refinement.  Among the Romans it was not thought so.  They were well aware how much
* "Memoria tenee solitum ipsum narrare, se in prima juventh studium philosophice ac Juris ultra quam concessum Romano ac Senatori haussisse, ni prudentia matris incensum ac flagrantem animum coercuisset." - Tacitus.gric
Vit., C. iv.
- In Libro de Claris Oratoribus. Al. edit., folio, vol. ii. p. 257.




424                  UNIVERSAL }IISTORY.            [BOOK ag'e
the man is influenced by the earliest impressions and habits of in.
fancy.  They suspected, and not without just grounds, that they
who became familiar with the language and expressions of their
slaves, were likely to be initiated also in their vices, and to become
reconciled to their ideas of servility and dependence.  That urbanity upon which this people so much prided themselves in the
nmore advanced periods of the commonwealth, was nothing else
than a certain manly elegance which distinguished the Roman citisens from those nations whom they accounted barbarous.  This
elegance was particularly evinced in their speech and gestures,
mnd it was one of their first objects to form their youth with those
qualities in which they most piqued themselves in excelling.  To
accustom a child to speak in a manly manner is, in fact, no unlikely
method of teaching him  to act so."  But this attention to the
language of their youth had another source among the Romans.
It was by the art of eloquence, by the power which that talent
gave them over the minds of the people, and the influence which it
possessed in the open deliberations of the popular assemblies, that
the young Romrnans could alone rise to eminence, to office, and to
dignity. History is full of examples of men whos by their excellence in this talent alone, had risen from the lowest condition
amongst the plebeians, to the highest ranks in the state.  To instill
therefore, at an early age, the elements of elocution-, and to habituate the youth to those studies properly called forensic, was one
great object of the Roman education.  As an exercise of memory,
the children were taught to repeat the laws of the XII Tables,
and they were accustomed very early to plead fictitious causes.
Plutarch tells us, in his life of the younger Cato, that, among the
sports or plays of the Roman children, one was that of pleading
causes before a mock tribunal, and accusing and defending a criminal in all the accustomed forms of judicial procedure.
The exercises of the body were likewise particularly attended
to.  Wrestling, running, boxing, swimming, using the bow and
javelin, managing the horse, and, in short, whatever might harden
the body and increase its strength and activity, were all reckoned
necessary parts of education.  Most of these warlike exercises
were practised daily in the Campus Martius.  The elder Cato not
only instructed his son in grammar, and in the study of the law,
but taught him also all these athletic,accomplishments.
At the age of seventeen, which was the period when the young
Roman assumed the toga virilis, the youth was committed by his
father to the care of one of the masters or public professors of
rhetoric, whom he attended constantly to the forum, and there employed himself in taking notes from the speakers, of whose harangues he afterwards gave an account to his preceptor.
"' Talis hominibus oratio qualis vita." Seneca Epist. 114




Hen.  III.]            ROMAN EDUCATION.                    425
It must not appear extraordinarythat this mode of education
should have been common to all the ycung patricians, whether
their inclination led them to the camp or to the bar; for as every
citizen of Rome was a branch of its legislative system, the profession of arms became no apology for the want of that ability of
maintaining the rights of the state in the assemblies of the people,
which was equally necessary with the capacity of defending them
in the field. If a public officer was accused, it was reckoned
shameful if he could not himself give an account of his conduct,
and plead his own cause. A senator who could not support his
opinion by the ingenuity of argument or force of eloquence, was
an object of contempt to the people.  " Parum  fuit in senatu
breviter censere, nisi qui ingenio et eloquentia sententiam suam teneretur; disertum haberi, pulchrum et gloriosum, sed contra mutum et elinguem videri deforme habebatur."  But it was not alone
the cultivation of eloquence which was esteemed a necessary part
of education.  It was reckoned dishonorable for any person of the
patrician rank not to have thoroughly studied the laws and the constitution of his country.  In one of the laws of the Roman pandects, tan anecdote is recorded of Sulpitius, a gentleman of the
patrician order, who had occasion to resort for advice to Quintus
Mucius Scmevola, then the most eminent lawyer in Rome. Though
otherwise an accomplished orator, Sulpitius had neglected the study
of the law, and, from ignorance of the technical terms, he did not
comprehend the meaning of Scaevola's opinion; upon which he
received from the lawyer this memorable reproof, " that it was a
shame for a patrician, a nobleman, and an orator, to be ignorant of
that law in which he was so particularly concerned."  Sulpitius
felt the reproach, and applied himself to the study of jurisprudence,
in which he became so eminent as, in Cicero's opinion, to excel
ScWevola himself.*
To be an accomplished' gentleman, therefore, it was necessary
among the Romans to be an accomplished lawyer and orator; and
what were the requisites for attaining eminence in those departments, we may learn from the writings of Cicero, Quintilian, and
the younger Pliny. The pains those illustrious men bestowed to
arrive at that excellence which distinguished them, appear almost
incredible to those bred up in the less laborious efforts of modern
literature.  Pliny, in speaking- of his public orations, which he
always committed to writing, describes thus the labor of their revision:-" Nullum emendandi genus omittd; ac primum quae scripsi
mecum ipse pertracto; deinde duobus aut tribus lego, mox allis
trado adnotanda, notasque eorum si dubito cum uno rursus anut altero pensito; novissime pluribus recito; ac si quid mihi credis
acerrime emendo; cogito quam sit magnum dare aliquid in manus
*Digest. lib. i. tit. ii. sec. 43.
VOL. I                    54




426                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                 [BOOK IV
honlinum, nec persuadere mihi possum  non et cum multis-et swpe
tractandum quod placers et semper et omnibus cupias.,
Such were the pains bestowed by Pliny to attain the character
of an accomplished writer,-a degree of industry, however, for
which he does not seem to claim any extraordinary merit as for a
labor uncommon amongst the authors of his time.  On the contrary, the same author, speaking of the studies of his uncle the
elder Pliny, modestly styles himself an indolent man, when comn
pared to that prodigy of industry and application, with the manner
of whose singular life we shall become more intimately acquainted
when treating of the state of philosophy among the Romans.
When an attention to rhetoric and the art of composition was
thtls once introduced, the progress of general literature in the Roman republic was singularly rapid; and it may here be made an
object of pleasing as well as of useful investigation, to attempt a
brief delineation of the progress of literature amongst this remarkable people, from  its earliest stages to  its highest advancement,
shortly remarking, as we proceed, the peculiar genius and character of the principal authors who have become distinguished under
Its different eras.  Superficial, certainly, and imperfect every account of this kind must be, from  that brevity which the nature of
our plan demands.
The poetical spirit appears almost coeval with the very, rudest
condition of society.  Other. branches of human knowledge which
have arisen in the gradual prog'ess of improvement, have owed
their origin to the wandering and adventurous spirit of the species,
or to the wants and sufferings of mankind; but poetry seems to
have been created with man, and is contemporaneous with his lan
guage; and what is more remarkable, it is in this early age that
poetry often assumes its highest character, and arrives at its greatest perfection.
Lamozguage, in the early periods of every nation, is in a very rude
condition, and it is in this imperfection and apparent barrenness of
the language that we shall find one cause for the lofty tone assumed by the poetry.  The words are few but they are invariably
expressive.  They are descriptive of the strongest passions, of the
deepest feelings of the human heart-of patriotism  and valor, of
grief and joy, of triumph and despair, of love and hatred;-of
such feelings as are to be found amongst every uncultivated people-when nature is certainly comparatively in a savage state; but
* I neglect no possible mode of correction and emendation; and in the first
place, after I have written an oration, I carefully revise it by myself; I then read
it over to two or three friends; afterwards I submit it to others for their annotations, and if I doubt the justice of their criticisms, I canvass them with each;
lastly, I recite the oration to a large assembly of my friends; and believe, even
after this, I carefully reconsider and revise it.  I hold it no light matter to
come before the public; nor can I persuade myself that less pains are requisite
on the part of a. orator who aims at general and lasting approbation."




cH. ItI.]             ROMAN LITERATURE.                    4-27
when none of those fantastic and artificial ideas, and therefore
none of those low and insipid expressions have been introduced,
which invariably accompany the process of luxury and refinement.
In the ancient languages of a rude people we find no redundancy
of expletives, no unnecessary words, no unmeaning synonymes;
because language is formed to describe what passes in the minds,
or before the eyes of those who use it.  Even in their common
discourse, and still more in their war-songs, or their solemn harangues, the speakers were actually compelled to be nervous, concise, and frequently metaphorical.  The high-flown and figurative
style must have then become as much a matter of necessity, owing
to the barrenness of the language, as the effect of taste or imagination.  When man first found himself in society, the Almighty, in
the language which he created for him, did not furn sh him  with
what was calculated to delineate the minuter feelings of the heart,
or the more detailed and delicate scenery of nature; but with
that broad and bolder pencil which could describe those conflicting
passions which then tore his mind, or those awful solitudes with
whi(ch he was then surrounded.
In the infancy of any people, and consequently in the infancy
of their language, we must also recollect that there are none of
those arbitrary rules of composition, which the progress of literature has introduced.  The effect of these is often to trammel the
flights of genius, and, often to shelter the efforts of mediocrity.
Those in the community of moderate genius, or comparatively
lower talents, are encouraged to intrude their minor efforts into
notice, whilst the retired spirits, whose genius and talents fit
tlhern for a higher course, will not stoop to such unequal competition.
T'here is yet one other cause of the excellence of early poetry,
which, before proceeding to that of the Romans, we may very
briefly notice: I mean that which is generally to be found in the
character and habits of the poet himself, and in the circumstance
of their poems having been addressed to the whole body of the
people. A moment's reflection will show. that these two circumstances must, in a great measure, form the style of the national
poetry, and, of course, regulate the tone of the national taste.
In reading the Agamemnon of YEschylus, who is there that will
not discover that he is perusing the poetry of a warrior, who felt
in the memory of the battles in whidh he has fought, the full force
of his own energetic descriptions, who lived in the midst of the
scenery which he paints from, and who addressed himself not to
any particular set of men who regulated the public taste, not to
the senate, to the academy, or to the camp alone, but directed his
efforts to the great body of the Athenian people, from whose
feelings, and whose taste, he looked for his proudest and most lasting applause.  When we dwell with enthusiasm on tLe sublimity




428                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BooK IV.
of the Scandinavian sages, or the eloquence of the North American warriors, we are tracing the very same effects produced by
the same causes above enumerated.  The poets lived and wrote in
the midst of that sublime scenery from which they drew their
noblest pictures: they were themselves free, and they felt deeply
the passions which agitate the mind in the ruder periods of society,
and they addressed their equals in the body of the people, who
knew well how to distinguish their errors, and appreciate their
Success.
The history of this delightful art, in ancient as well as in more
modern times, will, as we trace its future progress, be found to
exemplify in a striking manner the  truth of these remarks.
Among all nations, as has been said, the first dawning of the literary spirit is shown in poetical composition. The Roman warrior,
like the Indian, or the Gothic, had his war-songs, which celebrated
his sagacity in council and his triumphs in the field.  But' none of
these relies of the first Roman poetry have reached our days.
After the establishment of a closer political union, and the introduction of a national religion, if the nation subsists, as in the early
ages of Rome, by agriculture, their poetry assumes a new character.  The verses in praise of the gods, whom  they believed
to preside over the year, and to regulate the fruitfulness of,the
seasons, and the rude but joyful songs which commemorated the
close of the harvest, were examples of this second style.  These
last -are particularly mentioned by Livy under the name of the
Versus Fescennini, which were sung alternately by the laborers.
and which were composed in a strain of rude and mirthful poetry,
but not unsparingly tinged with ribaldry and licentiousness.
About the 390th year of Rome, the city had been reduced to
extreme distress by a pestilence, and an uncommon method was
adopted to appease the wrath of the gods, in sending into Etruria
for drolls or stage-dancers.  The dances of these Etrurians, according to Livy, were not ungraceful, and the Roman youth readily
learned to imitate their performances, adding to them their own
fescennine ballads, which they recited to the sound of music with
appropriate gestures. Here evidently was the first rise of dramatic performances amongst the Romans; but, as yet, all was
rude and imperfect, and they were altogether ignorant of the regular structure of a dramatic composition. This they acquired the
first idea of from  the Greeks.  Euripides and Sophocles had
flourished nearly 160 years, and Menander above 50 years, before
this period.  The dramatic poem was, at this time, in the highest
celebrity in Greece, and was at length, about the year of Rome
514, introduced into that commonwealth by Livius Andronicus, a
Greek slave.
To Livius Andronicus, whose compositions, in the judgment of
Cicero, did not merit a second perusal, succeeded Nwevius and




Ca. III.]                ROMAN LITERATURE.                          429
Ennius.*   Naevius, probably, only imitated  and improved upon
the rude  compositions of Andronicus; but Ennius was the first
who, as Lucretius tells us, deserved a lasting crown from the
Muses:" —-- Ennius qui primus ameno
L)etulit ex Helicone perenni fronde coronam." f
The fragments of Ennius which have come down to our time
illustrate strongly the observations which we have above made on
the character of the early poetical productions of most rude
nations.  His poetry is bold and energetic; his sentiments often
noble: his diction careless but vigorous; his versification rude and
Imperfect; lie trusted to his genius for his future fame, and left
the niceties of art and versification to his more polished descendants.  One of these has finely drawn  his character in  a single
line:
"Ennius ingenio maximus, arte rudis."
Ovid. Trist. book ii. v. 452.
From'the time of Ennius, dramatic poetry made a i'rapid advancement; for the intercourse with Greece, after the Punic wars,
had an almost immediate effect in promoting the literary spirit,
which first evinced itself in the improvement of the drama.
"Post Punica bella quietus quirere cepit,
Quid Sophocles et Thespis et ZEschylus utile ferrent."
Then arose Plautus, the first who may be said to have proposed to himself nature as his model, but nature in so low and coarse
an aspect as to make us feel often more disgusted than delighted
with the vulgar fidelity of his pictures.'It is, indeed, something
like a profanation of the  name  of nature, to  believe that those
authors who have studied in the very lowest school of vice and
* Ennius was a genius of very uncommon powers'fromrn nature, and these
he had improved by an intimate acquaintance with Greek literature. He corn
posed, in hexameter verse, the Annals of the Punic War; a poem on Scipio;
a book of Epigrams or Inscriptions: and above forty dramatic pieces in Iambic
verse; of all these, nothing but a few fragments. remain. Like most original
geniuses, he was abundantly conscious of his own merits, as appears from the
inscription he composed for a statue of himself:-' Aspice O cives senis Ennii imaginis formam.
Hic vestrum panxit maxima facta patrum.
Nemo me lacrimis decoret, neque funera fletu.
Faxit. cur.? volito vivu per ora virfm."
The following picturesque description of the dead of night, by Ennius, ii
the production of a sublime imagination:-" Mundus cceli vastus constitit silentio.
Ex Neptunus sevus undis asperis pausam detit
Sol equis iter repressit ungulis volantibus';
Consistere amnes perennes, arbores vento vacant."
There are many beautiful single lines to be found scattered amongstthe fragments which have reached our time, but few perfect,passages.
t " Ennius, who robbed the Heliconian fount
Of the first bays to deck his honored front."




430                     UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK IV,
profligacy, who have copied human manners in their most degraded condition, have had nature for their model.  These observations are particularly applicable to the dramatic works of Plautus,
who has described nature not as she really was, but as transfigured
by the vice and impurity of man. The general Latinity of Plauo
tus is nervous and concise.  It is pure, it is sometimes, perhaps,
elegant, when we understand purity in opposition to the being
florid or figurative; but it is too crowded with Graecisms, and tile
wit is too coarse and licentious, not to reflect somewhat of the
samre character on the style.
It is unfortunate that we have no remains of the dramatic works
9-f Caecilius, an author who improved so highly on the comedy
of Plautus, that Cicero declares him perhaps the best of the comic
writers.
Terence nlade his first appearance when Cecilius was at the
height of his reputation.  It is said that, when he offered his' first
play to the AEdiles, they sent him with it to C 1cilius for his judgmnent of the piece. Cacilius was then at supper; and as the
young bard was very meanly dressed, he was bid to sit behind on
a low stool, and to read his composition.  Scarcely, however, had
he read a few sentences, when Cecilius desired him  to approach,
and placed him at the table next to himself.  His reputation arose
at once to such a height, that his cc Eunuchus," on its first appearance, was publicly performed twice each day.*
There is in the comedy of Terence a tone of truth and nature
which distinguishes all its parts.  It is discernible in the general
simplicity of the plot, in the feelings and sentiments of his char
acters, in the perfect purity and familiar elegance of his language.
But what Terence wanted was that strong command of ludricrous
imagery, that vis comnica, or comic energy, which is frequently to
be traced in Plautus.
There were four different species of comedy among the Ro,
mans: —the Comoedia Togata, or Prcetextata; the Comtedia Tab,
ernaria; the /tellance; and the JM.imi.  The Togata or Pretex
tata admitted.,serious personages, and was probably of the nature
of the modern sentimental comedy.  The comedies of Terence
may probably be numbered in this class.  The Comcedia Taber
naria was a representation of ordinary life, and had nothing of
dignity in its composition, though it did not descend to buffoonery.
The Comcedim Atellane were pieces which were not committed
to writing.  The actors had the outlines of the comedy prescribed
to them, and the subject of the different scenes; but they'filled
* Terence was contemporary with Scipio and Lelius, and is said to have owed
a great deal to their conversation and critical advice. Nay, Cicero tells us that
it was rumored that some of these comedies which pass under the name of
TerenLce were actually written by Scipio and Lwlius, particularly the lieauton
Timroumenos, and the Adelphi.




ICI. II.1              FROMIAN LITERATURE.                          431
up the dialougue from  their own imaginations, in the same manner
as in the pieces of Italian comedy performed at Paris in the last
century.   This  species of representation, as it required  more
true genius in the actor than any other department of dramatic
performance, was appropriated to the higher classes of the Roman youth, who  would  not permit the  ordinary  comedians to
attempt it.
The Mimi have been particularly described in an earlier part.f this work, in treating of the state of the dramatic art amongst
the Greeks.  They consisted of pieces of comedy of the very
uwest species, more properly farces or entertainments of buffooniry, from  which all dignity, and not unfrequently all decorum  was
_anished; yet as the desire of variety in the compositions of art
will excite to new experiments, we find the Roman actors would,
in the middle of the performance of a mimus, surprise'and delight
their audience by some unexpected stroke of the pathetic.  The
Roman tragedy had arrived, we are informed by some authors, at
a very high pitch of excellence, more particularly in the works of
Attius and Pacuvius.  Of these, unfortunately, not a vestige has
been  preserved, and all of this  species of poetry  which  have
reached our time, are some  very indifferent tragedies published
under the name of Seneca.
We see from this short review of the origin of literature amongst
the Romans, that its earliest efforts were exclusively confined to
dramatic composition.*   The Romans, in a word, borrowed their
literature from Greece, and first attempted the species of, litera-'ture then most popular in Greece; if,- indeed, their Plautus and
Terence, and the rest, did more than translate or adapt the then
most popular pieces of the Greek stage. It was not until the. golden
age of Augustus, that, by the revolutions which then took place
in the public taste, the other high departments of literature were
introduced at Rome.  It has been observed by Paterculus, that
* Some of the Romnan actors were men of the most respectable charanter!Esopus was the Garrick of Rome, and enjoyed, like him, the countena ce
and friendship of the most respectable men of his country.  He excelled in
tragedy, and was in this department the most celebrated actor that had eve,
appeared on the Roman stage.  Cicero experienced the advantages of hiis
friendship and talents, during his exile; for Jisopus being engaged in a part
wherein, there were several passages that might be applied to Cicero's misfortunes, this excellent tragedian pronounced them with sq peculiar and affecting
an emphasis that the whole audience immediately took up the allusion, and it
had a better effect, as Cicero himself acknowledges, than any thing his own eloquence could have expressed for the same purpose. But it is not in,1his instance
alone that Cicero was obliged to _Esopus, as it was by the advantage of his
precepts and example that he laid the foundation of his oratorical fame, and
improved himself in the art of elocution. The high value which the Romans
set upon the talents of this pathetic actor appears by the immense estate which
he acquired in his profession: he died worth' nearly 200,0001.  He left a son
behind him, whose remarkable extravagance is recorded by Horace, Sat. 3. b.;i. v. 239.




432                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY                [Bo0K Iv
the era of the perfection of Roman literature was the age of
Cicero, but this he extends to take in all those authors of the preceding age whom Cicero might have seen, and all the succeeding
period who might have seen him.  But the era of the highest
literary splendor amongst the Romans was, in truth, not of such
long duration.  It continued above a century.  We shall take a
brief reviewv of the most celebrated both of the prose and poetic
writers, beginning with the former.
Pliny, Cicero, and Quintilian have all spoken in very high terms
of the writings of the elder Cato.  His principal works were historical, but of these nothing remains.   Many of his fragments,
however, have come down- to us, and of these the most entire are
some parts of his treatise De Re Rustied, in which he was irnitated by Varro, one of the earliest of the good writers amongst
the Romans.
The works  of Varro were extremely voluminous.  They consisted of many treatises on subjects of morals, politics,,and natural
history; of these, only his books De Re Rustica have reached
the present time, and these are chiefly valuable, not for any particular merit attaching either to the style or to the composition,
but for their curious, and accurate details on the subject of Roman
agriculture.'
Amongst the most eminent prose writers, Sallust, in point of
time, comes next to Varro.  As to the matter of his writings,
they have been, both by his own age and by the judgment of the
present day, declared  excellent.   There is to be discerned  in
them a depth of judgment, a shrewdness of remark resulting fiom
his accurate knowledge of human nature, and an admirable talent
for the delineation of character, which are all qualifications eminently requisite in a good historian.  But in regard to the manner
adopted' in his works, it is impossible to speak favorably.  In
his anxiety to imitate the energetic brevity of Thucydides, he
has fallen into an overstrained conciseness of expression, an affectation of uncommon idioms, and a studied adoption of antiquated
phraseology, which render his style frequently obscure, and always
unnatural.  This is the more unpardonable, as he lived in those
times in which the Roman language was in its highest purity.
All imitations in style are objectionable, and indicate a servility
and littleness of mind rarely found united to real talent.  But to.imitate in one language the peculiar idiom  or particular style of
any favorite author who writes in another, is of all imitations the
most unnatural, and the least likely to be attended with success.
Infinitely superior to the manner of writing which we find in
* Cicero, however, speaks highly of the other works of Varro. "Tu Setatem
patrice, tu descriptiones temporum, tu sacrorum jura, tu sacerdotam, tu domes.
ticam, tu'bellicam disciplinam, tu sedem regionum, locorum, tu omnium divin
arum hurnanarumque rerum, nomina, genera, officia, cansas aperuisti."




oei. III.]             RaOMtN LITERATURE.                      433
Sallust, is that of Cesar.  Endowed by nature with what wve may
truly term genius, this extraordinary mall was destined to excel in
every thing to which he turned the powers of hIis mind.  Unrivalled in military enterprise, of first rate talents as a public
speaker, engrossed incessantly in those various and agitating occupations which attend the life- of an active general and intriguing
politician, he still found time to compose those celebrated Commentaries, which, in their own style as military annals, have never
been excelled.  To require in the writings of Caesar those qualifications which we look for in the graver productions of a professed
historian, would be to mistake entirely the character of the work.
Composed in the midst of the bustle of a camp, and written probably in those few hurried hours which fill up the intervals occurring in military. operations, they aim at no higher merit than that
of being a faithful delineation  of his campaigns in Gaul.   As
such, in that interest which is created by the talents and success
of their author, as well as in perspicuity of narration and elegance
ald purity of style, they have ever remained unrivalled.
Different from any of the prose writers above spoken of, but
combining more excellent virtues than are to be found in them  all,
was Titus Iivius, the father, as he has been called, of Roman history.  Of one hundred and forty books which he had completed, only
thirty-five have reached our time. There is certainly to be fobund
in this writer a gravity, it might almost be called a majesty,
throughout his narration-a sagacity in his remarks, although not
frequently intruded-and a finished eloquence in the speeches not
unsparingly scattered through his history, which countenance, in
a great degree, those high eulogiums which Quintilian, and in a
later age Casaubon, have pronounced on him.  There is not, indeed, to be found amongst the Greeks any historian, who, with
equal political judgment, perspicuity of arrangement, and a happy
selection of the most important facts, possesses so wonderful an
eloquence of expression.*
In the decline of Roman literature, we find many historiansbut amongst these, few  of great character: yet Tacitus alone
would suffice to make the age he belonged to, illustrious in lite'ature. This great writer, however, (although his merits as an historian have been universally acknowledged,) has some prominent
* lay, our old English poet, in.his tragedy of Agrippina, has the following
beautiful eulogium of historical composition, which cannot be applied to any
author with more propriety than to Livy.
" His style is full and princely,
Stately and absolute beyond whate'er'rnese eves have seen; and Rome, whose majesty
Is there described, in after times shall owe
For her memorial to that learned pen
IMore than to all those fading monuments
Built with the riches of the spoiled world."
VOL. I.                  55




434                   UINIVERSAL HISTORY.             [LooK.a
faults.  In the narrative of those great events with which his history is occupied, he ascribes too much to the operation of deep
and artful schemes of policy.  His ingenious and intriguing mind
is ever restlessly searching in the regions of conjecture for some
dark or mysterious motive of conduct, ascribing too little to the
influence of more simple and apparent causes, and eager to grasp
at every shadow of a reason, provided it be sufficiently uncommon
or unnatural.  Too often mere probabilities are stated as demonstratively certain, and bare conjectures assume the tone of decided
truths.' In addition to this fault, which resulted from  a desire of
being more than commonly acute, in accounting for even the most
trifling events, there is in Tacitus an unnecessary brevity, and
mysteriousness of style, which reminds us sometimes of the same
affectation in Sallust.  It is by no means to be wondered at that
an author whose train of thought is so uncommon, and whose language is generally so concise, should not unfrequently require a
considerable effort to be understood at all.  And, it would be well
if all authors would recollect that they are writing for posterity,
as well as for their own age; that their works, if intrinsically valuable, will be read when time shall have deprived future nations
of that deep and critical knowledge of the language in which they
were written which belongs to their contemporaries; and, therefore, that the most simple and unambiguous style will ever be the
most lasting.  Still, however, Tacitus is, in many respects, an unrivalled historian, and it is the effect even of that fault above
mentioned, that he has penetrated with more acuteness into the
secret springs of human policy, and developed with more sagacity
the causes of great events than most others.
Let us now attend to the character and merits of the most celebrated of the Roman poets.
In addition to the dramatists whom we have already adverted
to, the only poets who wrote during the period of the commonwealth were Lucretius and Tibullus.  A philosophic poem  is, of
all literary productions, the least likely to be successful; and Lucretius, so far as philosophy is concerned, is ponderous and verbose
in his expression, perplexed in his meaning, rugged in his versification.  He had in him, however, the materials of a true poet;
and not unfrequently,  where he has shaken himself loose of his
unfortunate subject, he rises into passages of uncommon brilliancy.
But the misfortune is, that that luxuriance of imagination which
is the very soul of poetry, appears folly and absurdity'when applied to philosophy.  The Cardinal de Polignac, in his Anti-Lucretius; Buchanan in his poem  De  Sphcerd; and Darwin, in his
various botanical, mechanical, and philosophic rhapsodies, have all
strongly corroborated the trith of this observation.  All of themand in no common degree the first —have scattered throughout the
rugged materials of their works the real gems of poetry; all of
them evince what they could have been by splendid passages; but




OH. II.]                ROMAN LITERATURE.                      435
all of them have been tied down, by the nature of their subject,
to a species of dry ratiocination, or of tedious particularity, which
is either too dull to be convincing, or too detailed to be poetical.
Lucretius himself, perhaps, owes his IMMORTALITY to some two or
three hundred glorious lines, altogether parenthetical as regards
his main design.
Catullus was the contemporary of Lucretius.  The charac'.erkstics of his poetry, which consisted of odes, epigrams, and idylliures, (and which was entirely formed on the model of the Greek
school,) appear to be a learned purity of diction, a certain elegance and suavity in his sentences, a virulent and biting strain
of satire, and,. in his amatory  pieces, a voluptuous and highly
colored imagery, which too often degenerates into broad licentiousness.
In the succeeding age of Augustus, the poetic genius of the
Romans attained to the pitch of its highest elevation.  Virgil,
Horace, Ovid, and Tibullus, were all contemporaries; and it may
be safely asserted that these poets, in their several departments,
were never equalled in any one of the succeeding ages of the
empire.
To offer here a minute criticism upon the poetry of Virgil would
be both unnecessary and impertinent.  Every one, on this head,
has read, thought, and felt for himself.  Rising into the sublime in
many places where his subject naturally demands it; tender and
pathetic in others, where the situation of his characters calls necessarily for these touches; luxuriant yet terse in his descriptions
of scenery; grave, moral, and eloquent in his sentiments, and at
the same time combining and regulating all these uncommon excellences by the utmost purity and correctness of taste, it was
impossible but that the poet, who united in himself such various
and uncommon powers, should have been. the admiration of his
own, and the model to succeeding, ages.
Horace, the friend and contemporary of Virgil, is to be considered in three different lights,-as a lyric poet, a satirist, and a
critic.  In all he is excellent.  In his odes, he has greater variety
than any of his Greek predecessors appear to have attained; and
he has probably equalled the most of them  in their several departments.  The great charm, however, is in the varied turn of his
expressions, that curiosa felicitas (to use a term  of Petronius)
which no other lyric poet has ever reached.  His satires, on the
other hand, possess a gentlemanlike slyness and obliquity of censure which distinguish them  toto celo from  the keen and cutting
sarcasm of Juvenal.*
* To form a just estimate of the comparative merits of Juvenal and Horace
as satirists, we have only to compare those satires where the two poets profess
to treat the same topics, as the eighth of Juvenal with the sixth of the 1st Book
of Horace, where the subject is a discussion on true nobility, or the tenth of
Juvenal with the first of the 1st Book of Horace.




436                    U;NIVERSAL. HISTORY.            [|BOOK RV
As a critics the rules which Horace has given are almost entirely
borrowed from  Aristotle; but he has arranged them  with that
acute and admirable judgment, and illustrated them with that aptitude of imagery which are conspicuous in the rest of his poetical
compositions.
Ovid is the next and last of that constellation of poets which
formed the honor of the Augustan age.  In what we term geniuss
he is decidedly inferior both to Virgil and Horace.  He is deficient
in grandeur of conception, in simplicity of expression, and in that
high-wrought and ardent imagination which is the accompaniment
of the more lofty kinds of genius. But if he wants all this, he
possesses still many excellences.  His invention is astonishing'
in variety of story, in ingenuity of connection, in the profusion and
facility of his versification, he cannot be surpassed. He is, in these
respects, a kind of Ariosto amongst the ancients.  But even these
great qualities have led him into errors.  He is generally too diffuse
to be grand or forcible-too particular, too much a lover of the detail of description, ever to reach the sublime.  He is, in the words
of Quintilian, nimium  amrator sui ingenii-too fond of his own:ngenuity.  His learning becomes too often tedious, his narration
prolix, his invention puerile.  He possesses, in short, more of
those minor qualifications which are necessary to constitute a true
poet than any of his contemporaries:-he can be tender, harmonious, pathetic, and sometimes eloquent;- but if he is ever great, it
is only in a few insulated passages, which are scattered through
his works.  It is more, perhaps, the effect of chance or of imitation, than of that steady ray of genius which illuminates the nobler
work of his friend and contemporary Virgil.
The elegies of Tibullus are elegant, but generally insipid.  They
never offend, but they seldom move; he is a pleasing, but not an
original poet, and, owing to an extreme poverty of fancy, he is
constantly pacing the same beaten trackl  coderm prene gyro concluditur.
The last of the Roman poets whom we may call truly excellent
in his own department is JlIartial. The sense which the ancients
appear to have affixed to the term "' epigram, " appears to have been
very different from its common acceptation in the present day.  By
epigram we generally understand some happy or amusing conceit,
some sudden ebullition of wit, or humor, expressed in ia short and
sententious distich.  According to the meaning of the ancients,
however, there was no limitation as to these qualities.  Any happy
turn of thought, whether playful or serious, expressed in poetical
language, was denominated an epigram.  It is for this reason that,
amongst the Anthologies of the Greeks, we meet with epigrams
which are alternately written in a jocose or serious strain, and
which, if they are often smart and humorous, are as frequently
tender and pathetic.  Such is in truth the real character of the
Epigrams of Martial; and the execution of these, to whatever




Ac.'IV.t 1          ROMAN LITERATURE.                    437
class they belong, Is for the most part peculiarly happy.  Yet he
has many faults.  His ingenuity and,quickness have often betrayed him into overstrained and artificial conceits.  Conscious of a
peculiar talent in discerning remote, though often ludicrous analogies, he is ever too anxious to display this.  He plays too much
upon the sense, and puns too frequently on the sound and meaning of his words; and he has that unpardonable fault, so commnoln
to the age in which he wrote, of introducing an obscenity and
licentiousness into his verses, which, although it recommended
them to that degraded people for whom he wrote, is fortunately
too gross to produce any serious mischief, or to create any other
feeling than that of disgust.
The first symptom of the corruption of writing is a species of
false and inflated style, a luxuriance of ornament, and a fondness
for quaint and pointed terms of expression.  This was discernible
even in Martial.  When these succeed to, or rather usurp, the
place of the chaste, manly, and simple mode of expression-of
that style which attends more to the sense which it conveys, than
to the terms or manner in which it is constructed, it is a certain
indication of the decay of a just and genuine taste.  Even in the
end of the reign of Augustus, poetry seems to have been rather
on the decline; and in the succeeding age, if we except the compositions of Martial and Juvenal, nature and simplicity had almost
entirely given place to bombast and affectation.  Although in
Lucan we find some scattered examples of genuine poetic imagery,
and in"iPersius several happy strokes of keen and animated satire,
yet they hardly repay the trouble of wading through the unnatural
fustian of the one, or the affected obscurity of the other-who,
however, we should remember, wrote the pieces which remain to
us in early youth.
CHAPTER. IV.
Roman Philosophy-Public and Private Manners.
IN the present chapter,'I shall consider, in the first place, the
state of philosophy, amongst the Romans, and afterwards proceed
to the subject of their public and private manners.  In the early
ages of the republic, the Romans, occupied in continual wars with
the states of Italy, or, in the short intervals of respite from these,




438                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY,              [BOOK Ix,
engrossed in their domestic dissensions, had little leisure to bestow
on the cultivation of the sciences, and had no idea of philosophical
speculation.  It was not till the end of the sixth century, after the
building of the city, and in'the interval between the war with Perseus of Macedon and the third Punic war, that philosophy made its
first appearance at Rome.  A number of Achaians, banished firoma
their native country, had settled in Italy.  Part of these, amongst
whom were some men of talents and learning, particularly Polybius the Megalopolitan, took up their abode at Rome, and applying
themselves there to the pursuit of letters and the education of the
Roman youth, soon diffused a relish for these studies, hitherto
unknown to the rising republic.  This new taste was, as I have
hinted at in the former chapter, very unfavorably regarded by the
older citizens.  The senators, who lived in a perpetual struggle
with a people jealous of their civil rights, were in no measure
disposed to encourage philosophical disquisitions on the origin of
government, on the foundation of liberty, and the natural rights
of mankind.  To repress, therefore, such dangerous studies, this
body passed a decree, banishing those foreign philosophers from
their city.  This, however, was an ineffectual remedy.  The passion for literature may perhaps be cherished by political encouragements, but once roused it is not easily extinguished by political
restraints.  A few years after this, Carneades and Critolaus, arrived in an Athenian embassy at Rome; the discourses of these
philosophers added new strength and vigor to that taste whose
first efforts the Roman senate had in vain attempted to extinguish,
and the Greek philosophy soon became as generally relished in
this era of the republic, as during its earliest. ages it had been
either unknown or despised.
It was natural that, in the choice among the different systems
which the several sects or schools of Greek philosophy presented,
those tenets should be most favorably received and most generally
adopted, which accorded most with the national character and
genius of the people.  The Romans had not yet shaken off the
severity of ancient manners, and the doctrines of the Stoical philosophy were, therefore, most nearly allied to their own previous
conceptions of morality.   The philosophy of Aristotle was in
truth little known in Rome till the age of Cicero.  Cratippus then
taught his system with great reputation, though, that unnecessarily
tedious and complicated mode of reasoning adopted by this philosopher does' not appear ever to have had a numerous party to
support it.  Lucullus, whose stay in Greece afforded him an
opportunity of becoming acquainted with the doctrines of all the
different schools, at his return to Rome disseminated a very general taste for philosophising.  He does not, indeed, appear to have
attached himself exclusively to the tenets of any particular sect.
If he had a preference for any, it was for that of Plato.  The
philosophy of the New Academy, which professed to teach the art




CE. IV.]              ROM3AN PHILOSOPHY.                     439
of defending all opinions, would necessarily find its partisans among
the lawyers and orators.  Cicero, if he professed any settled system  at all, (a point which his philosophical writings leave very
enigmatical,) seems most attached to this.
The truth probably is, that, in his philosophical works, his general purpose was to give rather a history of the ancient philosophy,
than any defence or exposition of his own peculiar opinions; to
explain to his countrymen in their own language whatever the
philosophers of all sects and all ages had taught, with a view towards the enlargement of their understanding, and the improving
of their morals.  This he declares to be his purpose in his "1 Treatise de Finibus," in that, De iNatura Deorum, in his'" Tusculan
Disputations," and in his book on the Academic Philosophy.  As
to physics, or natural philosophy, Cicero seems to have entertained the same opinion with Socrates-that a minute and particular
attention to these inquiries was a study rather curious than useful,
and contributing but little to the real benefit of mankind-a very
extraordinary idea, but which seems to have been prevalent with
most of the ancient philosophers, if we except Aristotle and the
elder Pliny.  It was reserved for our own country, in a future and
more enlightened age of the world, to lay, in this severe and critical examination of Nature, which was then. so much despised, the
solid basis of all true and genuine philosophy.  Of the writings
and principles of Aristotle a particular account has been given in
treating of the progress of philosophy amongst the Greeks.  Nothing need here be added upon this subject.  The elder Pliny,
whose books, on natural history still remain entires was perhaps
one of the most extraordinary literary phenomena that ever existed in the world.  In one of the letters of his nephew, Pliny the
younger, there is an account given of the studies, and a description
of the manner of life of this singular man, which, as it is extremely
curious, I shall be easily excused for inserting.
" You admire," says Pliny to Macer, "' the works of my uncle,
and wish to have a complete collection of them; I will point out
to you the order in which they were composed: for, however
immaterial that may seem, it is a sort of information not at all unacceptable to men of letters. The first book he published was a
treatise concerning the Art of throwing the Javelin on Horseback.
This he wrote when he commanded a troop of horse, and it is
drawn up with great accuracy and judgment. He next published
the Life of Pomponius Secundus, in two books, and after that, the
History of the Wars in Germany, in twenty books, in which he
gave an account of all the battles we had been engaged in against
that nation; and a Treatise upon Eloquence, divided into six
books.  In this work he takes the orator from  his cradle, and
leads him  up till he has carried him to the highest point of perection in his art.  In the latter part of Nero's reign, when the
tyranny of the times made it dangerous to engage in any studies




440                   UNIVERSAL HISTORYe              LsBooK XV
of a more free and elevated nature, he published a piece of criti.
cism in-eight books, concerning Ambiguity in Expression.  He
completed the history which Aufidius Bassus left unfinished, and
added to it thirty books; and lastly, he has left thirty-seven books
of natural history, a work of great compass and learning, and almost as various as Nature herself:  You will wonder how a man
so engaged as he was could find time to compose so many books;.but your surprise will rise still higher, when you hear, that for'some time he engaged in the profession of an advocate; that he
died in his fifty-sixth year; and that from the time of his quitting
the bar till his death, he was employed in the execution of the
highest employments, and in the service of his prince.  But he
had a quick apprehension, joined to unwearied application.  Before day-break he used to wait upon Vespasian, who like him
chose that time to transact his business.  When he had finished
the affairs which the emperor committed to his charge, he returned home to his studies.  After a short repast at noon, he would
repose himself in the sun, dpring which time, some author was
read to him, from which, according to his constant custom, he
made extracts and Qbservations.  When this was over, he generally took the cold bath, after that, a slight refreshment, and then
reposed himself a little. Then, as if beginning a new day, he
immediately resumed his studies till supper time, during which, a
book was commonly read to him, upon which he would make
occasional remarks.  In summer, he rose from supper by day-light
and in winter as soon as it was dark.  Such was his manner of
life, amidst the hurry and noise of the town; but in. the country,
his wpole time was devoted to study without intermission, excepting when in the bath, for even when undressing, and when he was
rubbed by his servants, he'was either listening to a reader, or dictating himself.  A secretary constantly attended him in his chariot.
I remember he once reproved me for walking.' You might,'
says he,'employ those hours to more advantage,' for he thought
all time was lost which was not given to study.  By this extraordinary application, he found time to write so many volumes.  I
cannot but smile, (continues the younger Pliny,) when I hear
myself called a studious man, who, in comparison to him, am a
mere loiterer.  But why do I mention myself, who am diverted
from these pursuits by numberless affairs both public and private?
Even they whose whole lives are engaged in study must blush when
placed in the same view.with him."
This picture of the manner of life pursued by the elder Pliny.
will be allowed by all to be a very singular one, but it is too inconsistent with the ordinary powers of man to serve as a model of
imitation.  It will appear also from this, that Pliny was infinitely
more studious of storing his mind with the opinions of others than
to form opinions of his own; for one who is constantly employed,
either in listening to a reader, or in dictating to an amanuensis, can



CH. IV.]               ROMAN PHILOSOPHY.                     441
not possibly give sufficient exercise either to his judgment or his
invention.  And this, indeed, appears to have been the case with
Pliny, if we  lay. judge fromn the only work of his remaining,'lThe
Books of NJatrcal History, which is, indeed, little else than a
most voluminous compilation from  the works of Varro, the elder
Cato, Hyginus, Pomponius IMela, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Herodotus, and other writers —a work valuable, no doubt, as containing
an immense treasury of the knowledge of the ancients, but filled
with discordant and contradictory opinions, and indicating, on the
whole, no original genius in the compiler.
It was aboveremarked that, when philosophy first made its way
from  Greece to Rome, the doctrines of the Stoical school were
then chiefly prevalent in the republic.  With a people who were
only emerging from a simplicity, or rather a severity of manners,
it is not probable that the system  of Epicurus would find a very
favorable reception.  As luxury, however, advanced, and corruption of mannerS began to undermine the strictness of the ancient
morality, it also found its votaries.  This change in the Roman
manners, it may not be uninstructive to consider somewhat minutely.
The picture of the Roman people during the first five centuries
is so perfectly distinct, so widely different from what we find it in
the latter ages of the republic, that we might at first be induced
to think that some very extraordinary causes must have cooperated
to produce so total an alteration.  Yet the transition was easy and
natural, and was in the Roman people the necessary and inevitable consequence of that rich and luxurious situation in which the
virtuous and heroic temper of the earlier times had conduced to
place the republic.  A  spirit of temperance, of frugality, and
of industry must be the characteristics of every infant colony.
The poverty of the first'Romans, the narrow territory to which
they were limited, made it necessary for every citizen to labor for
his subsistence.  In the first ages, the patricians, when in the country, forgot all the distinctions of rank, and toiled daily in the fields
like the lowest plebeian. Examples of this are familiar to every
reader.  Cincinnatus we have seen named dictator by the voice
of his country, while at the plough.  M. Curius, after.expelling
Pvrrhus from  Italy, retired to the possession of a small farm,
which he assiduously cultivated.  The elder Cato was fond of
this spot, and revered it on account of its former master.  It was
in emulation of the example of this ancient Roman that Cato betook himself to agriculture.  Scipio Africanus also, after the conquest of Hannibal and the reduction of Carthage, retired to his
paternal fields, and with his own hand reared and grafted his fi'uittrees.  If such was the conduct and example of the highest magistrates and most.eminent men in the state, what idea must we
form of the manners and customs of the inferior ranks?
VOL. I.               56




442                   tUNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK IV
In times of peace and tranquillity, most of the citizens, employed
at their small farms, visited the town only every ninth or market
day    There they provided themselves with necessaries for the
nweek, and took their share in the public business of the commonwealth at the comitia.  It was on these market-days that the
tribunes hlarangued the people, and it was then that those menemployed for their daily occupation in laboring and husbandryfeeling their weight in the public deliberations, learned to know
their own importance in the state, which was in no respect diminished by tile necessary cares and duties- to which, in those happy
and primitive ages, custom had annexed respect and honor instead
of meanness or reproach.
Thus sirriple were the occupations, and, of consequence, the
mnanners of tilhe ancient Romans.  Employed either in their warlike expeditions, or, when at peace, in the frugal, laborious, and
innocent avocations of a country life, it was to be expected, as a
necessary result, that industry and a virtuous simrplicity of manners
should be tile principal features in the character of a people so
situated.  " Domi militiwque (says Sallust) boni mores colebantur-jus bonumque apud eos non legibus magis quami natur' valebat: duabus artibus, audacia in bello, ubi pax evenerat aequitate,
seque remp ublicam -curabant."  But this very discipline, and those
mantlers which paved the way for the extension of the Roinan
arms, and for the conquest of the surrounding empires, became,
of consequence, the remote cause of the corruption of the manners of the people in the later ages of the republic, and the introduction of that luxurious and effeminate spirit from which it is not
difficult to deduce the ruin and downfall of the commonwealth.
When, after the second Punic war, they had pushed their conquests into Asia, and in the third Punic war accomplished the subversion of Carthage, and acquired  the unlimited sovereignty of
Greece, then it necessarily happened that, losing their ancient
manners with their ancient poverty, possessed  of wealth, and
adopting with a willing servility the customs of the nations they
subdued, the Romans became as vicious, as luxurious, and as
effeminate as they had before been remarkable for their virtue,
their industry, and their rigid simplicity of manners.  They appeared now to be actuated by a new spirit, but chiefly by an affectation of taste in the fine arts, in which nature certainly had never
qualified them  to make any decided or eminent progress.  The
faculty to excel in these requires not only a predisposition of nature,
an inherent acuteness of perception of what is beautiful, but also
an intimate acquaintance with the objects of taste, and a long habit
of exercising the judgment exclusively upon them.  Of this natural
predisposition to the fine arts the Romans never evinced any traces.
On the contrary, even in the periods of their greatest refinement,
we hear not of the excellence of a single painter, sculptor, or archbitect; nor did they indeed possess, until their conquest of Greece,




Cli. IV.]              ROMAN MANNERS.                      443
any acquaintqance with those exalted specimens of art upon which
a corrected and chastened taste could alone have'been formed.
At that period, indeed, an immense field was at once opened to
their view.  The master-pieces of art poured in upon tlem; but
these they did not possess the talents to appreciate.  The extravagances of glare and show were more suited to their judgment,
and possessed more attractive beauties to their unpractised eyes;
and it is natural, therefore, to conclude that the Roman luxury, so
far as the fine arts were concerned, could only manifest itself in an
awkward, heavy, and tasteless magnificence.
In order to give some idea of the manners of the Romans after
they had undergone this remarkable change, or rather towards the
end of the commonwealth, at a time when the extravagance of
general luxury was felt throughout the whole body politic, and to
point out also some customs which were peculiarly characteristic
of this people, it may not be improper shortly to describe the
manner in which the day was spent at Rome, as well by the lower
as by the higher and more idle classes of the citizens.  Extraordinary as it may appear to us, it is certain that the Romans were,
for nearly five centuries, utterly ignorant of the division of the day
by hours, and knew no other distinction but that of morning, midlay, and evening.  The laws of the Twelve Tables divided the
day into two portions only, ortus et occasus, nor was it until a considerable time after, that they added a third division, meridies.
We are informed by Pliny the naturalist, that till the 477th year
of Rome, when Papirius Cursor caused the first sun-dial to be
put upon the wall of the temple of Quirinus, they had never used
any method of measuring time; that Valerius Messala brought
another from Catania, in Sicily, and that these two, although very
inaccurate in dividing time, cpntinued to be the only regulators of
the day at Rome for nearly a century, till Scipio Nasica introduced
the water-clock, which showed the hours both of the day and
night.
The first, second, and third hours were differently employed at
Rome by the different ranks of the people; and even by these
differently according to their separate inclinations.  It was the
custom with many to begin the day by visiting the temples, where,
according as their ideas of devotion were more or less strict, they
either sacrificed, or paid their adoration by simply kissing their
hand, or prostrating themselves before their own particular deity.
Those who were more rigorously devout made their conscientious
circuit to most of the temples in the city, a business which must
necessarily have occupied many hours; but the great bulk of the
citizens, attached to temporal concerns, and intent on more substantial duties, employed the morning very differently.  The Patroni were attended by all their Clientes.  The great had their
levees, at which either their inferiors who wished to recommend
themselves to their protection, or even their equ al...d 1-..'.. JC




444                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK ItV
their favor and friendship, crowded in the morning to pay their
compliments.  Pompey did not think it beneath.him to appear at
the levee of Cicero.  The custom was to wait in the vestibule or
ante-chamber, till the great man made his. appearance; to pay
him some compliment, couched either in wishes for his health or
panegyric on his talents, or congratulation on any promotion which
might, have occurred, and afterwards to accompany him- either
walking in his train, or attending by the side of his litter-to the
senate-house, or to the forum, and thence to reconduct him home.
The lower ranks and the more servile and parasitical courtiers,
who had many such visits to pay, must have necessarily begun
very early in the morning.  Juvenal humorously describes them
as setting out by star-light, and does not even give them time to
tie their garters.
These visits Pliny calls ante-lucana oficia.  They were sometimes so troublesome to the great man to whom  they Were paid,
that it was not unusual for him to go out by a back door, and so
give his visiters the slip.  Horace, in his fifth epistle, playfully advises his fiiend Torquatus to escape the importunities of his clients
by this sinister expedient:
"rebus omissis,
Atria servantein postico falle clientem'
This liberty, however, we may rest assured, was not very often
taken; for if, as we have above seen, the expedients of those ancient courtiers, who in these remote times solicited the patronage
u,f the great in Rome, were in few respects different fromn that
watchful and attentive assiduity which still distinguishes the same
classes amongst ourselves, we may rely also that the great in Rome
were no less ambitious of receiving these marks of distinction, than
the powerful in this country. Popularity was there, indeed, always the first object of ambition; and when the great man made
the tour of his circle at the levee, he was not, we may be assured,
the least complaisant of his company.  And, indeed, in the latter
ages of the republic it was not enough for the great to show their
affability by an empty salute or a simple squeeze of the hand; the
courtiers were then accustomed to expect more substantial marks
of their favor, and thought themselves ill used if they were not
regaled with a breakfast of the most delicate viands, or repaid for
their attendance by a present or a piece of money.
From the levee they next proceeded to the tribunal or to the
forum-some, as concerned there either in private or public business, others for amusement to hear what was going on.  There
the time was spent till noon, which among the Romans was the
hour of dinner, chiefly a very light repast, and of which it was
not customary to invite any guests to partake.  After dinner the
youth repaired to the Campus Martius, and spent the hours till
sunset in a variety of sports and athletic exercises.  The elder




CH. iv.]                ROMAN MANNERS.                        445
class retired for an hour to repose, and then passed the afternoon
in their }Porticoes or galleries which, in the house of every man of
rank, formed a conspicuous part of the building.  Many of these
were opened to the air, supported on pillars of stone o'r marble,
under which they- enjoyed the exercise of walking, and sometimes
of being carried in their litters.  Other galleries were sheltered
from the air, and lighted by windows of a transparent talc or lapis
specularis which supplied the place of glass.*  These covered
galleries were ornamented in the richest manner, and with the
most expensive decorations-gilded roofs, paintings on the walls,
aud statues in the niches;-and adjoining to them were their libra
ries, which, in the latter days of the riepublic, became an article of
great expense, and on the furnishing of which the higher classes
used particularly to pique themselves.  The sumptuous Lucullus
exceeded all his contemporaries in this, as indeed in every other
species of luxury.  His library was more extensive than that of any
other private citizen, and the use he made of it more noble.  His
porticoes, the halls where his books were arranged, and his gardens with which they communicated, were all open to the public.
Strangers were more particularly welcomed, and his house, Plutarch inforris us, became the asylum  and the prytaneunm of all the
Greeks at Rome.  in these galleries the master of the house
amused himself in the evening in conversations with his guests, or
in sports with his friends.  There likewise the poets came to recite their works, although this practice was probably confined to
the most ostentatious or the most needy, who in this way attempted to recommend themselves to a patron.  "'Non recito cuiquam
(says Horace ) nisi amicis, idclue coactus."
The houses of private citizens, and even of those of the higher
classes, were of a very moderate size during the times of the republic.  The Romans appear to have lived much in the open air,
as a great part of their buildings consisted of vestibules and porticoes.  The houses were detached from each other, and usually of
one floor.  The different apartments had each a single door, entering from the gallery or portico.  These apartments, except the.
triclinium  or hall, where they sat at meals, were generally small,
and lighted only by one square window near the ceilings.  The
furniture of the house and its decorations were simple, the walls
ornamented with fresco painting in a light and cheerful style.  The
larger houses had each a garden behind for the cultivation of vegetables, and a few trees to yield a refreshing shade in sum'mer.
This luxury of walking and amusing themselves under cover
was not long confined to the rich and the powerful.  These, to
increase their popularity, built porticoes for the use of the public,
"Hibernis objecta notis specularia puros
Admittunt soles, et sine face diem." —Jiartial.




446                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                  [BOOK IV
and  contended with each other in bestowing on  them  the most
expensive  adornments.  In these porticoes all classes were to be
found amusing themselves.  Indeed idleness and luxury, towards
the end of the republic, characterized equally the richer and the
poorer citizens.  rhey had approached that period so necessarily
incident to  every  wealthy and  overgrown  state, when  industry
becomes a reproach, and amusement forms the engrossing object
of life.
The passion for public games and magnificent spectacles constituted, at this period, a very striking feature in the Roman characW
ter.  The shows of the amphitheatre rose naturally out of that
taste for martial exercises, which we find in the first ages of every
warlike  people.  About the 490th  year of Rome, Marcus and
Decitnus Brutus presented a combat of gladiators for the first time
at Rome.  About a century after that period the athletm were
introduced for a public show; and there were combats of slaves
with bears and  lions.  Sylla, during his prietorship, exhibited a
cornbat where a hundred mnen fought with a hundred lions; and
Julius CUasar, during his oedileship, presented a show  where there
fought three hundred couples of gladiators.*  It is astonishing to
what a height the' passion for these bloody entertainments was
carried; and what is very remarkable was, that the spirit of luxury,
which is in general found rather favorable to humanity, or at the
least productive of a refinement of manners, amongst tilhe Roman
people, on the contrary, was marked by an increasing and unnatural
ferocity in the public amusements —a circumstance not unworthy
of attention from those who, in the present day, are. advocates for
those public fighting matches which, in  point of brutality, are,
perhaps, little inferior to the more mortal combats at Rome.
The Lanistae, whose business it was to instruct these gladiators
in their profession, taught them  not only the use of their arms,
but likewise the most graceful postures of falling when they were
wounded, and the finest attitudes of dying in.  The food of these
unfortunate victims was likewise prescribed to them, and was of
such a nature as to enrich and thicken the blood, so that it might
flow more leisurely through their wounds, and thus the spectators
might be the longer gratified  with the  sight of their agonies.
These miserable beings were also accustomed, on entering their
profession, to take an oath, of which the form has been preserved
to us in a fragment of Petronius.' In verba Eumolpi juravimus,
uri, vinciri, verberari, ferroque necari, et quicquid aliud Eumnolpus
Dion Cassius, in speaking of Pompey's shows, in which above five hundred lions were -killed, besides elephants and other wild beasts, tells us it was a
miserable spectacle, even to the populace, who were affected by the mournfll
cries of these poor animals; (Dion, b. xxxix.) and Cicero broadly condemns
those inhuman spectacles, as in his time affording no delight to the mob who
gazed upon them.-Cicero, Epist. ad Familiares, b. vii. Epist. 1.




CI. IV.]                 ROMAN GAMES.                         447
3ussisset tanquaim leg.itimi gladiatores domino, corpora animosque
religiosisse addicimus " — i. e. 1" We swear that we will suffer ourselves to be bountd, scourged, burned, or killed by the sword, or
whatever else Eumolpus ordains, and thus, like freeborn gladiators,
we religiously devote both soul and body to our master."  Isit
not dreadful that human nature should ever have been reduced to
such a state of degrading and incomprehensible barbarity?
In a former chapter, on the progress of literature amongst the
Romans, the entertainments of the theatre were discussed at some
length, but amongst these entertainments none during  the later
periods of the conimonwealth became so popular as the taste for
pantomime.  Schools were instituted where this art was publicly
taught, and these, we read, were often more frequented by the
younger patricians than the lectures of the orators.  A  decree of
the -senate was found necessary to prohibit its members from
ai.ten cding  these  indecent assemblies,  and  discharging  all of
the equestrian order from  publicly courting and encouraging the
performIers of pantomime.  We may conceive to what a pitch of
degeneracy tV!e public manners had arrived when we read that
the affairs of the state were interrupted, and the minds of its ministers embroiled, by the contentions of the different parties who
supported each their favorite actors, and that, on this account, it
was Jmlore than once found necessary to expel them from the city.
Following the Romans through the ordinary occupations of the
day, it was customary for themi to go from the porticoes or the
theatre to take the bath.  Water, which in the more frigal days
of the republic, was used only for the necessary purposes of life,
was not brought to Rome by aqueducts till the 441st year of the
city.  It was'till that time drawn fromr the Tiber, or fromn wells in
the town.  But it soon become one of the chief articles of luxury,
to supply as well the public as the private baths, apd many aqueducts were accordingly built, and public reservoirs and fountains
reared in every quarter of the city.  This luxury increased to sutch
a degree that, under Augustus, there were seven hundred basins,
a hundred and five fountains, and a hundred and thirty public reservoirs, all adorned in the most sumptuous manner, with columns,
statues, and basso-relievoes.  To  superintend  these became al:
office of considerable dignity and emolument, and under the emaperors was filled mostly by men of the first rank.
The practice of taking the cold bath was in early use in Rorne,
where the heat of the climate and the fatigue attending the athletic
exercises made it requisite alike for the purposes of cleanliness and
comfort.  It. was not till pretty late in the republic that the hot baths
began to be introduced; but at last it became customary for all to
take the warm bath before sitting down to supper.  The rich had
their baths in their own houses, in which, as in every other thing,
they vied with each other in expense and magnificence.  Seneca,
when.he speaks of this piece of luxury, tells us his countrymen dis.




448                   UNIVERSAL IIlSTORY.               [BOOK IV
dained to set their feet upon any thing but precious stones; and Pliny wishes old FcLbricius alive, to witness the degeneracy of his posterity, whose seats in their private baths were made of solid silver.
Under the later emperors, indeed, this luxury appears to have
been carried to an almost incredible excess.  The public baths
built by Augustus, by Dioclesian, and by Caracalla, were sumptuous beyond description.  These were open to all the citizens, who,
for a trifling gratuity, had slaves to attend on them, to assist them
in undressing, and to rub their bodies with flesh-brushes.  The
baths of Diociesian were so large that they' could accommodate
3,000 persons bathing at the same time.  They were adorned
with columns of the finest marble, and decorated with a profusion
of statues and of paintings.  They *consisted of a variety of apartments destined not only for the purposes of bathing, but for various anlusements, and even for literary and philosophic exercises.
There were public libraries adjoining to the baths, halls of' resort
for the studious or for the idle, who met to talk over the news of
the day; and to these also the poets resorted, as we have observed
they did to the porticoes, to recite their compositions.
In the houses of the great, the bath was used immediately before
they went to supper; and they came fiomni the bath to the table
in a loose sort of robe, called, from its use, convivialis or triclinaria.
It was customary for them  to, sup between the ninth and tenth
hours, which, when the sun rose at six, would correspond with our
three or four in the afternoon, and at a proportional distance from
sunset, as the days were longer or shorter.  They must, therefore,
have always sat down to supper with day-light, and indeed Vitruvius
directs the supper-room  to be constructed in suchl a manner that
it shall have its aspect to the setting-sun    " Hyberna triclinia
recedentem  solem  spectare debent," lib. vi. c. 5; but they often,
however early their hour of commencement, prolonged the entertainment through most of the night.
It is singular that, as with us moderns luxury has thrown the
meals much later than they were in the more frugal days of our
ancestors, the same cause was attended with very contrary effects
at Rome.  In the early ages of the commonwealth, when day-light
was valuable for the purposes of labor and industry, the citizens
did not sup till sunset, but in the more advanced periods of the
Roman state, when the luxury of the table became one of the most
serious concerns in life, it was found necessary to begin early, that
tirne might not be found wanting for such important concerns.  The
custom of reclining on couches came not into use till the end of
the sixth century, and for some time after it was adopted by the
men, the Roman ladies, from motives of decency, continued to sit
upright at table; but these scruples were soon removed, and all
promrniscuously adopted the recumbent posture, except the youth
who had not yet attained the age of putting on the manly robe
They sat in a respectful posture at the bottom of the couch.




ent. IV.]                RMAN IMANNERS.                        449
These couches were ranged along three sides of a square table,
which was then called tricliunium, as was likewise the chamber
itself in which they supped.  The fourth side of the table remained open for the servants to place and remove the dishes.  Above
was a large canopy of cloth suspended by the corners, to prevent
the company being incommoded with dust. It was this custom
that enables Horace to introduce a ludicrous accident, which he
describes as occurring at a supper given by the niggardly, but ostentatious Nasidienus to Macanas, and some other courtiers.  Whilst
the landlord is enlarging on the praises of a favorite  dish, and
discussing the merits of the component ingredients of the sauce,
the canopy falls down and involves every thing, host, guest, supper
and dishes, in a cloud df dust and darkness.
" Interea suspensa graves aulaea ruinas
In patinam fecere trahentia pulveris atri
Quantum non Aquilo Campanis excitat agris." *
B. ii. Sat. 8.
Every feast was attended with a certain mixture of religious ceremonv.  It began and concluded with a libation to the gods.  In
barbarous nations we know there was ever a strong affinity between
a repast and a sacrifice.  The offerings to the gods consisted pf
what men esteemed always their choicest food, and the priests, as
the ministers of the gods, ate the sacrifice.  The practice of libation, also, was of the highest antiquity.  It was universal both
among the Greeks and Romans; and the idea of the meal being a
religious ceremony, both with regard to the libations of wine, and
the offerings of the meat to the priests, showed itself in several
other particulars.  It was esteemed a most solemn obligation, if a
person laying his hand upon the table, should pronounce an' oath,
The triclinium was looked upon as an altar.  The salt was also
held sacred, and it was regarded as an unfavorable omen should it
be- spilled or overturned. It was customary, also, to place upon the
table small images or penates —Genii mensce prcesides, or epitrapetii, as they were called, to whose honor it was chiefly that the
libation was performed. These religious notions had this good
effect, that amidst all their intemperance the Romans accounted it
a species of sacrilege to allow  a quarrel or an animosity at table,
and the height of impiety to commit any violence or outrage. But
these religious ideas could be only felt by a moderate and a virtuous
people.  When luxury had once spread its contagion. as was too
certainly the case before the end of the republic, a few traces may
remain in customs and ceremonies, but these can only be consid* In the time of Seneca, their halls of banquet were constructed with movao
ole roofs, adorned with paintings, so that the ceiling was made to change
along with the different courses. " Versatilia cenationum laquearia ita coaugmentat ut subinde alia facies atque alia succedat, et toties tecta quoties fercula
mutentur. "-Seneca, Epist. 90.
VOL. I.                  57




450                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK IVF
ered as the shadows of ancient virtue, after the substance had long'
perished.  Such was the case with regard to the ceremonies we
have mentioned. They still continued in observance after luxury
and debauchery had reached their utmost height; but all those
ideas of religion which had been interwoven with them were gone
for ever.
It would be a task at once disagreeable and unprofitable to describe minutely those excesses which are painted in the strongest
and often the most disgusting colors by the ancient writers, both
satirists and historians, or to dwell on the intemperance of those
degraded times when, as Livy tells us, ".a cook, who by their frugal ancestors was-looked upon as the vilest and meanest of slaves,
was considered as an officer of high importance, and that trade
dignified by the name of an art, which before was regarded as the
most servile drudgery."
It was a general custom, in preparing for a luxurious meal, to
take a vomit a short time before sitting down to table:  This was
not regarded as a mark either of gluttony or epicurism, but was
held to be done in compliment to the entertainer, that his guests
might be enabled to carry off a greater quantity of his good fare.
then Julius Caesar paid a visit of reconcilement to Cicero by inviting himself to sup with him, he took care to let Cicero know
that he had taken a vomit before hand, and was resolved to make
a most enormous meal - and Cicero tells us he kept his word,
which, for his own part, he took very kindly, and as a mark of
Caesar's high politeness.  (Cic. Epist. ad Attic. 13, 52.)
Compared with that of the Romans, the luxury of the moderns
would scarcely deserve the name of intemperance. Before the
principal meal was placed on the table, it was customary to present an antecoenium or collation, which consisted of pickles and
spices, to provoke and sharpen the appetite.  The thirst excited
by this prelude to more serious occupation was allayed by a mixture of wine and honey, which they termed promulsio, and the
stomach being thus prepared, the supper itself was presented, after
a short interval. The expense ridiculously bestowed on these entertainments, and the labor employed in collecting the rarest and
most costly articles of food, exceed all belief.  In this, as indeed
in every other species of luxury, there was the most capricious
refinement of extravagance.  Suetonius mentions a supper given
to Vitellius by his brother, in which, among other articles, there
were 2000 of the choicest fishes (lectissimorum piscium,) 7000 of
the most delicate birds-one dish, from its size and capacity, was
named the cegis, or shield of.Minerva. It was filled chiefly with
the livers of scari (a delfcate species of fish,) the brains of pheasants and peacocks, the tongues of parrots (imagined, probably, to
be tender from their much chattering,) and the bellies of lampreys,
brought from most distant provinces.  This may serve as some
specimen of the luxury of the Roman suppers.




CHR. V.]               RrOMAN WARFARE.                     451
Their entertainments were accompanied with every thing fitted
to flatter the senses and to gratify the appetite. Musicians, male
and female dancers, players of farce and pantomime, jesters and
buffoons, and even gladiators exhibited whilst the guests sat a
table.  In order, if possible, to restrain such extreme luxury, a
variety of sumptuary laws were promulgated from time to time,
some of them limiting the number of dishes, others the number of
guests, and others the expense to be bestowed on an entertainment,
but all these attempts were completely unsuccessful.  How, in.
effect, could it have been possible to bring back ancient simplicity,
unless they could have also recalled ancient poverty? When a
state has once become generally opulent, the expenses of the rich
must keep pace with their fortunes, otherwise the poor would
want employment and subsistence.  It is luxury that ig silently
levelling that inequality, or at least keeping fortunes in a constant
fluctuation, giving vigor in this manner to all those various parts of
the political machine, which would be otherwise apt to lose their
strength and pliability for want of motion.  We may wish that
Rome had remained poor and virtuous, but, being once great and
opulent, it was to have required an impossibility that she should
not have been luxurious.
CHAPTER V.
On the Art of War among the Romans.
WIE have seen the Romans engaged for many ages in continual
wars, first with the petty states of Italy, and afterwards-with foreign nations.  From  the prodigious success which attended the
arms of this remarkable people, and from the dominion which they
accomplished, at length, over almost the whole of the known
world, it is a necessary inference that they must have carried the
knowledge of the art military to a higher degree of perfection than
any other of the ancient nations: to whatever collateral or partial
causes we may attribute the success of some of their warlike enterprises, the great and leading cause of those rapid and extensive
conquests could have been nothing else than the excellence of their
military discipline, compared to that of the nation-i whom they subdued. " It was not, " says Vegetius, "C to the supe-iority of numbers,




452                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK IV
nor to superior courage in the field, that the Romans owed their victories; but it was by art and by discipline that they defeated those
immense hosts of Gauls which poured down upon Italy; that they
subdued the Spaniards, a hardier and more warlike race than themselves; the Africans, whose wealth furnished inexhaustible armies;
and conquered even the Greeks, whose military abilities were for
many ages superior to their own."'
The nature of this military discipline, by which the Romanj
became masters of the world,  is, therefore, an object extremely deserving of attention; and I shall endeavor here to give some idea
of the state of the art of war, such as we find it to have been in
the latter ages of the commonwealth, and in the first period of the
history of the empire.
In a former chapter, in treating of the system of Roman education, we have taken notice of those exercises of the body to which
all the youth of the republic were accustomed from their earliest
infancy. By the constant practice of wrestling, boxing, launching the javelin, running, and swimming, they were inured from
their cradle to that species of life which a soldier leads in the most
active camp-aign in the field.  They were accustomed to the military pace, that is, to walk twenty miles, and sometimes twentyfour, infour hours.  During these marches they carried burdens
of sixty pounds' weight; and the weapons with which they were
armed were double the weight of those -Which were used in the
actual field of battle.*
Every year after the election of the consuls, twenty-four military tribunes were chosen; fourteen from the order of the Equites, and ten from the body of the citizens.  The people were then
assembled by an edict of the consuls, commanding all who had
attained the age of seventeen to appear in the area before the
capitol on an appointed day. According to the number of legions which were to be formed, they appointed to each legion a
certain number of tribunes.  The tribes were then called out and
divided into their proper centuries, and each century presented by
rotation as many soldiers as there were legions intended to be
raised.  If there were four legions, each century took its turn in
PLseillIn0~ four soldiers; and of these four, the tribunes of the
first legion had the first choice of a man, the second the next, and
so on: then four more were drawn out, and the second legion had
the first choice.  In the next selection, the third legion chose first,
and in the following the fourth.  Thus there was the utmost equality in the distribution of the citizens in the several legions.
The number of soldiers in the legion was various at different
periods. At earlier times it consisted of 3000, of 4000, of 5000,
* Vegetius de Re Militari, c. 2.; and Josephus, de Bello Judaico, has given
some very curious details of the Roman discipline.




cu. v.]                ROMAN WARFARE.                         453
and 6000; but under the emperors it might amount to even 10,b00
or  1,000 men.
Among the ancient nations there were in general but two different arrangements of the troops in order of battle.  The one was
that of the phalanx, commonly used by the Greeks; the other
was the disposition of the troops by manipuli, or companies, arranged in the form  of a chequer or quincunx, which, after the. war
with Pyrrhus, became the ordinary arrangement of the Roman
army, and was probably then first tried as the most commodious
disposition against the attack of the elephants.  In the order of the
phalanx, the heavy-armed infantry were all ranged upon one continued line, with no other intervals than those which distinguished
the great divisions.  In the quincunx order, a number of small
companies or platoons were ranged in three straight lines, one behind the other, with alternate spaces between them, equal to the
front of each company.
In the first line were the Hastati, heavy-armed troops, who at
first used long spears, but afterwards laid them aside for the pilum,
or great javelin, and the sword and buckler. In the second line
were the Principes, likewise armed with the pilum and sword and
buckler; and in the third line were the Triarii, armed with the
long spear, formerly used by the hastati, and chiefly intended to
sustain the shock of the enemy's cavalry.  O'n the flanks of the
line of the hastati were placed the cavalry, likewise in detached
manipuli or companies, armed;only with a lance and javelin, pointed at the end, and a small buckler. Immediately before the hastati, and in the front of the line, were placed the Velites, or lightarmed troops, who usually began the engagement, and, after maintaining a skirmishing fight for awhile, drew  off to the rear, and
retired behind the triarii, leaving the main body to come into action.  After the velites htd withdrawn, the hastati usually began
the attack, by throwing the pilum, or great javelin, which was a
ponderous speawr of seven feet in length, and of such thickness as
barely to be grasped in the hand.  It could not be used at a distance, from its immense weight; but within the space of twenty
or thirty yards its effect was dreadful.  After the discharge of the
pila, the hastati rushed on with the sword and buckler, which
were now  their only weapons.  The Roman sword was about a
foot and a half in length, two-edged, with a broad blade, tapering
to a point, so as to serve both for cutting and thrusting.*  What
* The kind and quality of weapons is of very great consequence in war. The
Roman sword was a weapon of great power and efficacy. The Romans owned
themselves inferior to the Cimbri in courage and martial heroism; and confessed
that even their superior discipline could not have availed them against the pro
digious impetuosity of the attacks of this people; but, on the other hand, the
swords of the Cimnbri were of bad temper compared to theirs. They often bent
at the first stroke; and the soldier was obliged to straighten his sword with his
foot before he could make a second stroke.




454                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK  I
is singular is, that it was made of brass, but of so hard a composib
tion as to shiver like steel.  The sword and buckler were common
to all the ranks of the infantry.*
The advantage of the chequer or quincunx arrangement of the
legion was, that the Roman army could three times form the line
of battle with fresh troops.  Supposing the hastati to be foiled in
their first onset, and even put to flight, the enemy found a new
line of battle presented by the principes, who, using the same
arms, first began with the terrible discharge of the pila, and then
fought with the short sword.  Meantime the hastati had time to
rally, and to form a new line behind the triarii.
No form could be so admirably adapted as that of the quincunx
for changing movements according to the disposition of the enemy's line.  On advancing, for example, to meet such an army as
the Gauls, ranged in the order of the phalanx, nothing was easier
than to form a great front like that of the enemy, without any intervals, by bringing up the principes to fill the spaces betwixt the
companies of the hastati.  When, again, they had to do with an
enemy less active, but to whom they did not wish to give an opportunity of insinuating themselves between the manipuli, they filled
up the intervals with the velites, and kept the principes in the
second line with the triarii, as a corps de reserve.  In those engagements where the enemy had in their front a train of elephants,
upon the advance of those animals, nothing more was requisite
than for the principes to march to a. side, and form themselves in a
line with the hastacti and triarii; in other words, to form themselves
into columns, with open spaces between each column.  Thus the
elephants, persecuted and driven on by the velites found an entrance
by these spaces between the columns, and passed through the legion without doing aiy mischief.  This manceuvre was practised
by Scipio at the battle of Zama, and by Regulus, in his engagement in Africa with Xantippus.
The quincunzx disposition was for some ages the characteristic of
the Roman legion, which scarcely used any other method of arrangement; but the Romans afterwards made many innovations
upon the ancient tactic.t  From  the time of Marius the quincuunz had gone into disuse, and Cesar describes the legions in his
wars as under a quite different form. The three manipuli of hastati, principes, and triarii composed a cohort, and were ranged not
by intervals, but in a line behiid each other —or in columns;the triarii, armed with the long spears, being usually jlaced in the
front.'It is not easy to see in what respects this disposition excelled the former.  From  this period the tactic of the Romans
* For an account of the arms of the Roman -legion, see Lipsius de Militia
l;omana, c. 3.
f See a very good account of the state of the art military under the emperors
in Gibbon's history, vol. i., c. 1.




CH V.]                  ROMAN WARFARE.                          455
was perpetually changing, and, in the opinion.of the ablest Judges,
growing worse from age to age.*
At no time was the tactic of the Romans more excellent than
during the Punic wars, and to that cause we may attribute their
successes against an enemy so formidable as the Carthaginians,
and commanded by such able generals.  The chief talent of Hannibal lay in varying  and adapting  the arrangement of his army
according to circumstances of local situation; and often striking
out some new and unexpected disposition formed in the instant of
action, which disconcerted all the uniform and regular plans of the
Romans.  Such was that most remarkable disposition of the Carthaginian army at the battle of Canne, which decided the fate of
that important day, by the utter destruction of the Roman army.
I shall endeavour to give an idea of this very curious disposition,
of which Polybius has left a full account; and I select it for this
reason,: that it has been misunderstood and misrepresented by the
Chevalier Folard, a very able writer on the art military, but who,
from his ignorance of the Greek language, was obliged to rely on
the Latin translation of a monk who knew  nothing of the art of
war.  The errors of Folard have been fully pointed out in the
J/lmoires.Militaires of M1. Guichard.
Hannibal having passed the winter and spring in quarters, began the campaign by ravaging the whole country; and finding his
army in want' of provisions, he marched towards Canne situated
in a mountainous part of Apulia; a village where the Romans
had established their magazines, and where they had brought all
the military stores and provisions they had carried from Canusium.
Hannibal took Cannae by surprise; which, depriving the Romans
of their stores, disconcerted their whole plan of operations.  They
could no longer pretend to harass and weary out the Carthaginians, but were obliged to think of giving them  battle.  The senate, in this emergency, sent a powerful reinforcement to the army,
which now amounted to 80,000 men under two consuls, Varro and
A/Emilius; the latter a general of great experience, but cool and
deliberate; the former rash, impetuous, and extremely obstinate
* We may learn from Vegetius the constitution of the Romans legion under
Trajan and Hadrian. The heavy-armed infantry was then divided into ten
cohorts, or fifty-five companies, under a correspondent number of tribunes and
centurions. The first cohort, which had the post of honor and the custody of
the eagle, consisted of 1105 soldiers, the remaining nine consisted each of 555.
The number of infantry in the whole legion was, therefore, 6100 men. Their
offensive arms were, 1st, the pilum; 2d, a light spear; 3d, the sword. The
legion was usually drawn up eight deep, with a distance of three feet both between the files and ranks.  The cavalry of the legion was divided into ten
squadrons; the first, in proportion to the first cohort, consisting of 132 men,
the rest only of 66-in all 726 horse. The horses of the cavalry were bred
chiefly in Spain and Cappadocia. The arms of the men consisted of a helmet,
an oblono, shield, light boots, a coat of mail, a javelin, and a long broadsword.
They borrowed afterwards from the barbarians the use of lances and iron
maces.




456                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK IV
iEmilus, sensible that the great superiority of Hannibal's army lay
in his cavalry, wished to delay coming to an action till his situation
should afford the best opportunity for the operations of infantry.
Varro was for an immediate attack, and it being his turn to.cominand, a pretty smart engagement ensued, which terminated doubtfully, but rather to the advantage of the Romans. Encouraged by
this first success, they brooked with great impatience the cautious
delays of IEmilius, who was still averse to a general engagement.
The day following, when it was, again the turn of Varro to command in chief, he ordered the' army to take the field early in the
morning, and to pass the river Aufidus, which lay between them
and the Carthaginians. They passed without opposition, as Han"
nibal chose to rest every thing upon a very artful manceuvre,
which he had planned, to be discovered only in the moment of
engagement.
The usual disposition of the Carthaginlans was that of the phalanx.  Varro resolved to iimitate this disposition, and to give his
army a front similar to it.  His ignorance of the art of war here
led him into a great error.  He neglected the advantages which
the legion derived from the ordinary disposition of the quincunx,
and endeavored to give a solidity and depth to his line, equal to
that of the Carthaginians, not attending to this circumstance, that
the arms of the legion were not suited to the close and compressed position, on which depended the strength of the phalanx; for
the hastati and the principes could neither throw their pila with
effect, nor manage their swords for want of room: and the triarii,
ranged immediately behind and close upon the manipuli of the
hastati, could not, with their long spears, be of the smallest service.
Such, however, was Varro's disposition: he brought up the principes to fill the spaces between the companies of the hastati, and
advanced the triarii, so as to join their companies to those of the
hastati.  On the right and left wing were the Roman cavalry,
greatly inferior, as we have already observed, to those of the Carthaginians; and the velites or light infantry were ranged as usual in
the front of the line.
Hannibal, whose army amounted to 40,000 foot and 10,000
horse, arranged the main body of his infantry in the close order of
the phalanx; placing the best of his African heavy-armed troops
to the right and left of the line, and in the centre the Gauls and
Spaniards, armed only with the sword and buckler. On the right
and left wings of his phalanx he posted the cavalry, immediately
opposite to those of the enemy; and in the front of his line were
ranged the Carthaginian light troops, in the same manner as those
of the Romans.  Having thus formed the great line of the phalanx, Hannibal ordered the Gauls and Spaniards in the centre to
extend themselves forward from the main body in a semi-circular
curve.  This movement was concealed from the Romnans, by the
line of the Carthaginian light troops, and was not perceived till




CH. V.]           ROMAIN WARFARE-CANNA.                  457
after the skirmishing of the velites, when these troops as was usual
fell badk behind the main body.
The action began by these light troops, and continued prettr
long and obstinate, while in the meantime the Carthaginian cavalry
attacked the Roman horse on both wings, and being infinitely
superior to them in number, broke, dispersed, and cut them all tic
pieces.  The signal was now given for the velites on both sides te
fall back, and the Romans then, for the first time, perceived the
curve in the Carthaginian front, which, being far advanced, came
n contact with, and was.immediately attacked by, the centre of
the Roman line. The Gauls and Spaniards who formed the curve,
unable to sustain the impetuosity of this onset, gave way, as Hannibal had expected; while that part of the Roman line, impetuously pursuing its advantage, pushed forward in proportion as the
enemy retreated, by which means the Roman line was bent in the
middle into an angular form.  This position was what Hannibal
foresaw and wished for.  The Gauls and Spaniards, supported
behind by the velites, formed a sort of new concave curve; and
the heavy-armed infantry, the strength of the Carthaginian army,
who had hitherto remained inactive, were now marched up, so as
to come in contact with the opposite part of the Roman line,
which was hurrying on to pursue the advantage gained by the
centre, but which, now that the Africans were advanced, found
themselves inclosed like a wedge.
In the meantime the Carthaginian cavalry under the cotnmmand
of Asdrubal, having entirely cut to pieces the horse of the enemy,
doubled the flanks of the Roman army, and poured down upon
the rear.  They were now  inclosed and furiously attacked on
every quarter.  The contest was not of long duration.  The
Romans, pressed together, had no space to use their arms.  It
was, upon the part of the Carthaginians, an absolute massacre and
butchery; 70,000 of the Romans were killed upon the s4pot, and
10,000 taken prisoners.  Such was the celebrated battle of Cannae, according to the idea given by M. Guichard, which is supported, in every particular, by the text of Polybius.
The disposition of the quincunx would in all probability have
saved the Roman army, and disappointed the effect of Hannibal's
artful manceuvre; which it is probable he had conceived only
upon seeing the enemy in the order of the phalanx: for had; the
legions been formed in the order of the quincunx, only the first
line of the hastati could have given into the snare which was laid
for them, and the principes and triarii, entire and unbroken, niust
have been an overmatch for all that was opposed to them.
The quincunx, notwithstanding its great advantages, was, as I
have already observed, disused in the times of the emperors, and
consequently the arms of the soldiers must likewise have undergone considerable changes.  In the time of Vegetius, that is to
say, under Valentinian, and probably long before that period, the
VOL. I.              58




458                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK IV
pilum, the most formidable of the Roman weapons, was entirely
laid aside, and a variety of weapons introduced, which are described by that author, but which were quite unknown during the
perfection of the art of war among the Romans.
One most material part of the military science among the Romans was their art of intrenchment.  It was to the perfection to
which Caesar carried this art, that he owed many of his greatest
advantages in war. It seems to have been a maxim of his, that
it was'possible to make up for any inferiority in the number of his
troops, by the additional strength of his intrenchrments.  Thus
with 60,000:men he defended himself in his intrenchments before Alexia, while the lines of circumvallation were attacked by
240,000 Gauls, and the lines of countervallation by 80,000, without any effect.
These intrenchments were thrown up with amazing despatch.
Every soldier upon his march carried along with him his palisade,
which was a strong branch of a tree, having at one end three or
four smaller branches sharpened to a point and hardened in the
fire.  When the square of the camp was traced out, each soldier,
throwing aside his buckler, began to dig a ditch, ordinarily nine
feet, but sometimes fourteen or fifteen feet in depth, and as tnuch
in width.  The earth was thrown up' upon the inside in the form
of a rampart four or five feet in height, which was faced on the
outside with those palisadoes or stipites, strongly fixed in the
earth, and set so near each other that the branches, crossing obliquely, presented their points outwards, and thus formed a strong
hedge of irregular points, which it was extremely difficult to
pierce. On each side of the square of the camp was a gate or
issue, where a strong guard was always posted, which no soldier
could pass without leave, under pain of death.
When a city was besieged, it was customary for the Romans to
divide their forces into several camps, encircling the place, and
joined to each other by strong lines of circumvallation and countervallation. As the science of attack and defense of fortified
towns was carried to a great degree of perfection, both by the Roinans and the Greeks, I shall endeavour to give some idea of this
blanch of the military art among the ancients, concerning which
several of the modern writers are very much at variance.
The Chevalier Folard, in his Commentary on Polybius, makes
the military art of the ancients by far too complicated, and much
more so than a plain construction of the words of his author, or,
indeed, of any other of the ancient writers, will warrant.
In his'treatise on the attack and defence of fortified places, he
endeavours to prove, that, excepting the use of gunpowder and
artillery, every operation used by modern engineers was known
and practised by the ancients; and that, in particular, the mode
of approach by parallels and trenches was in continual use.  Yet
t is very certain, as M. Guichard has abundantly shown, that




CH. V.]                 ROMAN SIEGES.                      459
those authors who have written most minutely of the most important sieges, as Polybius, Caesar, Arrian, and Josephus, and who
express themselves in their details with very great perspicuity,,ive not the smallest countenance to such a notibn.
The Romans observed two methods of proceeding in their
sieges; the one was by means of the agger, a sort of terrace or
mound of earth, on which they advanced their machines; and the
other was by bringing up their machines to the foot of the walls
writhout the help of such a terrace.  The first was necessary only
where the place was very strong, and the walls skilfully guarded
and fortified.  The method of proceeding against such fortified
places was this:-The army, as I before observed, was divided
into different quarters, separately intrenched around the city, which
intrenchments communicated with each other by a line of countervallation drawn on the side next the town, and a line of circumvallation on the outside, to defend against attacks from the quarter of
the country.  Then the ground was chosen for the construction
of the agger, or terrace, which was a lengthened mound of earth,
beginning by a gentle slope, from one of the camps, and proceedilg forward, gradually increasing in elevation as it approached the
town.  As this terrace was to be the stage from which all the
engines of attack were to be -played against the city, it was the
dbject of the besieged to endeavor, by every possible means, to
Firevent'the carrying on of this work. Stones, darts, and combustible
mlatters, were continually launched against the operators; and someCmes a mine was dug from the city, to pass under the front of the
terrace, and scoop away its foundation.
The besiegers, on the other hand, guarded against these annoyances by protecting themselves, -while at work, under covered
sheds, termed vinece, which were composed of hurdles, or wickerwork, covered with hides, and supported on stakes, which they
moved along as the work advanced.  The front of the terrace,
where the workmen were chiefly employed,was protected either
by a testudo, or covered pent-house, or simply by a curtain of
skins, supported upon a large tree, laid transversely upon two
others.
~When the besiegers, under these covers, had brought the agger,
or terrace, sufficiently near to the wall, they then advanced thle
engines of attack.  The catapultce and balistce were ranged upon
the terrace, at distances proportioned to their several projectile
powers, and advanced or drawn back till they were made to bear
upon the very spot which the besiegers intend to assail.  The
powers of these engines of attack almost exceed credibility.  The
catapulta centenaria, which was the smallest size of these machines, threw a weight of 100 pounds to the distance of 500
paces.  The largest. catapults threw  stones of 1200 pounds'
weight.  The balista were constructed for throwing great and
heavy darts.  As to the particular construction of these machines




460                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK IV'
we can only form  conjectures.  The commentators on Vegetius
have given several different forms of catapulta and balistae, -but
they are by far too complicated, and have a great deal of needless
machinery of wheels, pulleys, axles, and levers.  Much simpler
contrivances might answer the same end, and be more easily managed.  The form of the catapulta, given by M. Folard, is sufficiently simple, and corresponds well enough with the description
in Vegetius.
A large. lever is fixed at the lower end between two cables,
very strongly twisted; the lever has, at the upper end, a hollow
in the form of a dish, for receiving the stone or ball which is to
be thrown. It is brought down to a horizontal position by means
of this rope and hand-lever, which straightens the cable spring;
and when let off by means of a catch, it returns to its position with
prodigious force, and striking against the crossbar at the top, the
stone or ball is projected to a very great distance.
The balista, for throwing arrows, was, according to the idea of
M, Folard, of a construction considerably different, though depending on the same mechanical principles with the catapulta;
yet, from the promiscuous use of the two terms, which we often
finld made by the ancient authors, I think it is not at all imrnrobable that the same machine might have been so contrived as to
serve both for stones and arrows: for instance, nothing more was
necessary than to fix a sort of long trough or groove, horizontally
projecting from the cross-beam at the top, in which the arrows
shollld be placed, with their ends a little advanced beyond the
line of the cross-beam.  It is evident, that when the spring-lever
struck against the beam, so as to throw out a stone from the dish,
the arrows in the groove, receiving the whole force of the stroke,
would be discharged with great violence at the same time..But these engines, the catapultas and balistae, though most formidable in their effects, were incapable of making a breach in the
walls of a strongly fortified city.  The only engine capable of producing this effect was the battering ram; and the whole contrivances
of the agogeres, or terraces, towers, testudines, vinece, or covered
galleries, had no other object than to facilitate the approach of the
ram, which, if it was once effected, and the engine had firee space
to play, all ancient authors are agreed that it was decisive of the
fate of the town. No wall, however strong, was capable of resisting its force.  The object, therefore, of the besiegers was, by
means of the catapults and balistm, and by the command which
the elevation of the terrace gave them, to clear the walls of their
defenders, and to obstruct the play of those engines which the
besieged were continually working to prevent the approach of the
ram, or to weaken its force; so that, as soon as the besiegers from
the terrace were able to silence the batteries from the walls, the
ram, coming up in security under the cover of a testudo, began to
play without intermission till the breach was effected.  It'consisted




ci. v.]                 ROMAN SIEGES.                     461
of an enormous beam of wood, armed at the one end with a head
of iron, and suspended so as to hang in equilibrio, from a crossbeam of the testudo, or pent-house.
The besiegers, besides employing the contrivances of aggeres,
testudines, vineae, and battering ram, constructed frequently movable towers of such a height as to overtop the walls of the city;
and these towers answered a variety of purposes.  The under
part of the tower served for a testudo to a battering ram, which
played under its cover, while on the top were planted archers and
slingers to clear the ramparts of those who endeavored to counteract the operation of the ram  by letting down great beams,
chains, and hoops to destroy its equilibrium, and impede its motion. These movable towers were frequently so constructed as
to let down, from the side next to the city, a platform to serve as
a bridge from the tower to the top of the walls, by means of which
an access was gained for the besiegers into the city.
For the defence of the city, the besieged employed the same
engines used by the besiegers for the discharge of stones and darts,
the catapulte and balistse.  The walls were carefully manned on
every quarter where an attack was meditated, and every device
employed for annoying the besiegers, retarding their operations,
and preventing the approach of the ram to the walls.  The gates,
which the besiegers generally attempted to burn down, were defended from  fire by covering them with iron plates or with raw
skins. The wall above the gates was likewise bored with perpendicular openings through which the besieged could pour water
to extinguish them if set on fire.  In the inside was a portcullis,
suspended by iron chains, which, when a small body of the enemy
had forced the way through the gates, the besieged could suddenly
let down, and thus despatch them when they were separated from
the rest of the assailants.
Such were the most ordinary methods employed by the ancients,n the attack and defence of fortified towns.  I speak not of the
Romans alone; for they borrowed the greater part of their knowledge, in this branch of the military art, from the Greeks, among
whom it was early reduced to a system.  If we compare the description which Josephus has given of the siege of Jotapat by the
Romans in the reign of Vespasian, with the detail given us by
Thucydides of the siege of Platea, which happened about 600
years before that period, we shall find the same method both of
attack and defence. They continued to, be in general use down
to modern times; till the invention of gunpowder made a great
change in almost every part of the art military.
It was not till the latter ages of the commonwealth, that naval
warfare was at all practised by the Romans. Till the first Punic
war, the Romans never had any equipment of ships for the purposes of war. A Carthaginlan galley which was stranded on the
coast of Italy, served them, as formerly observed,   " ~"  ~ 




462                      UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                   [BOOK IV.
and it is said, with a very moderate regard to probability, that, in
the space of two months, this resolute and active people equipped
a fleet of one hiundred galleys of five banks of oars, and twenty of
three banks.  The construction of these vessels, and particularly
the disposition of the different ranges, or banks of oars, has given
occasion to much speculation among the moderns. The difficulty
of supposing five different lines or orders of rowers disposed one
above another, has occasioned the conjectures of some authors,
that the expression  of triremes and quinqueremes meant no more
than that there were in some galleys three men to an oar, and in
others five.   But the expressions of the ancient writers  clearly
show that there were different ranks which sat above each other.
Nothing can be more ridiculous than the importance which men
of learning assume to themselves from that parade of erudition,
which they sometimes choose to display on the most insignificant
topics.  Meibomius  has written a treatise upon the structure of
the ancient triremis, in which, from a variety of quotations from
ancient authors, and critical disquisitions upon the meaning of some
of their technical phrases, he shows that Scaliger, Salmasius, and
the ablest of the modern critics, were totally in the dark as to the
true sense of those authors; and so highly does he value himself
upon his discoveries, that he dedicates his book, Regibus, Principibus, Rebus-publicisque JlMaris Interni accolis; "'To all the kings,
princes, and states, whose territories lie upon the Mediterranean.'"
His treatise  again has been  answered by Opelius, and thus the
dispute goes on to the length of folio volumes to settle this important point, whether the thranites, one order of rowers, sat uppermost, and the thalamites undermost, or whether these last were
above, and the former below.*
X The late Lieutenant-General Melville, who united a taste for antiquities to
great professional knowledge, has some curious ideas upon this subject of the
structure of the ancient galleys. He conjectures that the waist part of the
vessels rose obliquely above the water's edge, with an angle of forty-five degrees or near it; that upbn the inner sides of this waist part, the seats of the
rowers, each about two feet in length, were fixed horizontally in rows, with
no more space between each seat and those on all sides of it, than should be
found necessary for the free movements of men when rowing together. The
quincunx, or chequer order, would afford this advantage in the highest degree
possible; and in consequence of the combination of two obliquities, those inconveniences, which, according to the common idea of the regulation of such
galleys, must have attended the disposition of so great a number of rowers, are
entirely removed. In 1773, the General caused the fifth part of the waist of a
quinqueemis to be erected in the back yard of his house, in Great Pulteney
Street. This model contained with sufficient ease, in a very small place, thirty
rowers in five tiers of six men in each lengthways, making one-fifth part of the
rowers on each side of a quinqueremis, according to Polybius, who assigns three
hundred for the whole complement, besides one hundred and twenty fighting
men. This construction, the advantages of which appeared evident to those
who examined it, serves to explain many difficult passages of the Greek and
Roman writers concerning naval matters. The General's discovery is confirmed by ancient monuments. The collection at Portici contains ancient
paintings of several galleys, one or two of which, by representing the stern




CH. VI.]             ANCIENT VESSELS OF WAR.                      463
Besides the longce naves, or ships of war, such as those we have
mentioned, the Romans made use of small vessels called liburticce,
which were serviceable during a naval engagement in carrying the
general's or admiral's orders from  one part of the squadron to the
other.  They were so called from  the Liburni, a people of Illyria,
who followed a piratical way of life, and used small, quick-sailing;
vessels.  In a naval engagement the general himself, in one of
these liburniece, was wont to sail through the fleet, and give his
crders for the dispositions and motions of the squadron.
In their naval engagements the ancients had no means of assailing each other at a distance but with the javelin; nor had they
any contrivance for disabling the'-vessels of the enemy, unless in
some of their largest ships, which were constructed with towers
on their stern, from which they could use the balista or catapulta.
The corvus, or grappling machine, used by the Romans, served to
fasten the ships to each other during action, while the men were
engaged with the sword and buckler or with spears.  Under the
enperors the Romans maintained their distant conquests not -only
by their arms but by their fleets, which were disposed in all the
quarters of the'empire, and preserved a fixed station, as did the
legions. 
CHAPTER VI.
Reflections arising from a view of the Roman History during the
Commonwealth.
IN the view which I have endeavored to give of the rise and the
progress of the  Roman republic, and of the  states of Greece
previously, I have been less attentive through the whole to a
minute and scrupulous detail of events, than studious to mark
part, show both the obliquity of th/ sides, and the rows of oars reaching to the
water; and many ancient basso relievos show  the oars issuing chequer-wise
from the sides. See Gillies' History of Greece, cap. 5.
* Augustus stationed two permanent fleets at Ravenna, on the Adriatic, and
at Misenum, in. the Bay of Naples\ to command the two seas, each squadron
containing'several thousand marines. They consisted chiefly of the lighter
vessels called Liburnicae. A very considerable armament was likewise stationed
at Frejus, on the coast of Provence, and another was appointed to guard the
Euxine. To these may be added the fleet which preserved the communication
between Gaul and Britain, and a number of vessels constantly maintained on
the Rhine and Danube.




464                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                eBOOK IV
those circumstances which show the spirit and genius of those
remarkable nations, and illustrate those great moral and political
truths which it is the most valuable province of history to point
out and inculcate.
To consider history only as a magazine of facts, arranged in the
order of their dates, is nothing more than the indulgence of a vain
and childish curiosity; a study which tends to no valuable or useful
purpose. The object of the study of history is one of the noblest
of the pursuits of man. It is to furnish the mind with the knowledge of that great art on which depends the existence, the preservation, the happiness and prosperity of states and empires.
That the connection of politics with morality is inseparable, the
smallest acquaintance with history is sufficient to show.
No nation has afforded a more striking example, than the Romans have done, of the necessity of good morals to the' preservation of political liberty and the happiness of the people. This is
a doctrine of so much importance, that it cannot be too seriously
considered nor attended to.  Unlike, in this respect, to many
other political truths which are interesting only to statesmen, and
those who conduct the machine of government, this truth is of
importance to be known and considered by every single individual
of the community; because the error or fault is in the conduct of
indvidluals, and can only be amended by a conviction brought
home to the mind of every private man, that the reformation must
be begun by his bwn virtuous and patriotic endeavors.
It will,.therefore, be no unprofitable task if I shall endeavor,
from the history of the Roman republic, and likewise from that of
the states of Greece, which were before under our consideration,
to throw together in one view such striking facts as tend to exemplify and illustrate this great and useful lesson, of which the application is not confined to. any age or country, but is equally suited
to the subject of a monarchy, and of a republic; equally important
to the modern Briton, as it was to the ancient Greek or Roman.
For in truth, no principle is more false or more pernicious than
that assumed by some political writers, that virtue is essentially
necessary to republics alone.  Virtue is necessary, and indispensably necessary, to the existence of every government, whatever
De its form; and no human institution where men are assembled
together to act in concert, however limited be their numbers, or
however extensive, however wise may be their governors, however excellent their laws, can possess any measure of duration
without that powerful cement, virtue in the principles and morals
of the people.  Quid leges sine moribus vance proficiunt, is a
sentiment equally applicable to all governments whatever.
The love of liberty, or the passion for national freedom, is a
noble, a disinterested, and a virtuous feeling.  Where this feeling
is found to prevail in any great degree, it is a proof that the manners of that community are yet pure and unadulterated; for cor



CE. VI.]            IROilAN COMMONWEALTH.                       465
ruptlon of manners infallibly extinguishes the patriotic spirit.  In
a nation confessedly corrupted, there is often found a prevailing
cry for liberty, which is heard the loudest among the most profligate of the community; but let us carefully distinguish that
spirit from  virtuous patriotism.  Let us examine the morals, the
private manners of the demagogue who preaches forth the love of
liberty; remark the character and examine the lives of those who
listen with the greatest avidity to his harangues, and re-echo his
vociferations-and let this be our criterion to judge of the principle
which actuates them.*  The  aversion to restraint assumes the
same external appearance with the love of liberty; but this criterion will enable us to distinguish the reality from the counterfeit.
In fact the spirit of liberty and a general corruption of manners are
so totally adverse and repugnant to each other, that it is utterly
impossible they should have even the most transitory existence in
the same age and nation.  When Thrasybulus delivered Athens
from the thirty tyrants, liberty came too late; the manners of the
Athenians were irretrievably corrupted; licentiousness, avarice,
and debauchery had induced a mortal disease.  When Antigonus
and the Achaean states restored liberty to the Spartans, they could
not enjoy or preserve it; the spirit of liberty was utterly extinct,
for they were a corrupted people.  The liberty of Rome could
not be recovered by the death of Caesar; it had gone for ever with
her virtuous manners.
On the other hand, while virtue remains in the manners of the
people, no  national misfortune is irretrievable, nor any political
situation so desperate, that hope may not remain for' a favorable
chan ge.  If the morals of the people be entire, the spirit of
patriotism pervading the ranks of the state will excite to such ex.
ertions as may soon recover the national honor.  Of-this truth the
Roman state afforded at one time a most striking example.  When
Hannibal was carrying every thing before him in Italy, when the
Roman name was sunk so low that the allies of the republic were
daily dropping off, and the Italian states seemed to. stand aloof,
and leave her to her fate, there was in the manners of the people,
and in that patriotic ardor which can only exist in an uncorrupted
age, a spirit of reconvalescence which speedily operated a most
wonderful change of fortune.  Of all the allied states, Hiero, king
of Syracuse, manifested the greatest political foresight. When
solicited to forsake the Romans in this hour of their adversity, he
stood firm to the alliance. He saw, that, although sunk under the
pressure of temporary misfortune, patriotism  was still alive and
*" That man,' says AEschines,' who is an unnatural father, and a hater of
his own blood, can never be a worthy leader of the people; the soul that is
insensible to the tenderest domestic relations, can never feel the more general
bond of patriotic affection: he who in private life is vicious, can never be virl,
tuous in the concerns of the public."
VOL. I.                  59




466                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BooK IV
the constitution of the republic was still sound; and he rightly
concluded that she would recover her strength and splendor.  So
likewise at Carthage, when the intelligence arrived of the great
victory gained over the Romans at Cannae;-the most sanguine
and shortsighted manifested the highest exultation, and concluded
that Rome for certain was in the possession of Hannibal, et quod
actum erat de republicd Romandl: but the wiser sort judged far
otherwise; and, hearing of those intrepid resolutions of the senateupon that great calamity, sagaciously foresaw that this misfortune
would but rouse to a more desperate resistance, and accumulate
the whole strength of the Romans, of which hitherto there had
been only partial exertions.  The lapse of a hundred and forty
years, however, made a prodigious change in the Roman character. In the time of Marius and Sylla, a defeat like Canine would
have been decisive of the fate of Rome.  Had Hiero lived in the
time of the Second Triumvirate, he would have abandoned the
republic to her fate, which he must have seen to be inevitable.
The force of the torrent of corruption in the degeneracy of a
nation is never so sensibly perceived, so strongly felt, as when one
man of uncommon virtue makes a signal endeavor to oppose it.
If his example, though ineffectual to excite a general imitation, is
yet strong enough to attract applause, there is still some faint hope
that that nation or people is not beyond the possibility of recovery.
Thus, when, after the defeat of. Antiochus, and the plunder of his
kingdom, the virtuous Scipio withstood every temptation to accumulate wealth, —temptations judged so powerful, that it was
thought impossible he should have resisted them, and he underwent on that ground a calumnious prosecution,-the conduct of
that great man on this occasion excited universal admiration; a
proof that, amidst great corruption, public virtue was not yet extinct.  In that age, a few such men as Scipio might have postponed
the approaching ruin of their country.  But when things have
once proceeded to that depth of degeneracy, that the example of
one virtuous man strenuously resisting the torrent cannot command
even a sterile applause, but is received with scorn and contempt,
then is that nation gone beyond all hopes, and no human power
can prevent its hastening to ruin. A very few years from the time
of the last mentioned example had produced this fatal difference
in  the manners of the Rlomans.  When the first triumvirate,
Ponipey, Caesar, and Crassus, had gone such lengths towards the
destruction of the Roman liberty, and had so debauched the manners of the people, that candidates for offices, instead of depending
on their merits or services, openly bought the suffrages of the
people, and, improving in corruption, instead of purchasing single
votes, went directly to the triumviri and paid down the ready
money; when all was going headlong to perdition, the younger
Cato attempted to impose some check upon this torrent of wickedness.  What was the consequence? — He only procured to




AH. VI.]          RIOMAN COMMONWEALTH.                   467
himself the contempt and hatred of both rich and poor, the former
detesting the man who forbade them'to buy the liberty of their
country, and the latter execrating him who would have prevented
them from making money by the sale of it.
Whether it was the intercourse with the Carthaginians, whose
want of probity and of national faith had passed into a proverb; or
whether it was the internal corruption of the manners of the Romans themselves, a people now flushed with the arrogance that
attends repeated conquests-it is not easy to determine; but it is
certain that the national character of the Romans seems to have
undergone its most remarkable change for the worse, from the
time of the destruction of their rival, Carthage.  The last Punic
war itself was prompted, as we have seen, by a most mean, ungenerous, and dastardly spirit in the Romans.  But after the fall
of Carthage, some of the public measures became stained with
the most horrible perfidy.  Their conduct to Viriathus, a Spanish
chief, of whom they first purchased an ignominious peace, and
afterwards broke it by hiring assassins to murder him; and their
shameful treachery and cruelty to the people of Numantia, whom
they basely attacked, murdered, and exterminated, while they
thought themselves safe under the sanction of a most solemn
treaty,-these are instances marking so total a depravation of national character, as could be followed by nothing else but the ruin
of the state that could furnish them. Accordingly, we find similar
instances following each other in the quickest succession, from this
time down to the entire subversion of the commonwealth.
When the passion of avarice had, as at this time, pervaded all the
ranks of the state, it is not wonderful that the public measures
should be in the greatest degree mean and disgraceful.  The
ambition of conquest was now little else than the desire of rapine
and plunder.  If the allies of the state were opulent, the Romans
considered their wealth as a sufficient reason for dissolving all
treaties between them, and holding them as a lawful object of
conquest. Thus the kingdoms of Numidia, of Pergamus, of Cappadocia, of Bithynia, separate sovereignties bound to the allegiance
of the Romans by the most solemn treaties, were invaded as if
they had been ancient and natural enemies, and reduced to the
condition of conquered province. The senate made a kind of
traffic of thrones and governments, selling them openly to the
highest bidder.
It is curious, in this state of the Roman manners, to observe the
ipretences sometimes alleged for going to war, when any country
offered a tempting object to their avidity and rapaciousness.
Manlius, the consul, undertook an expedition against the GalloGrecians or Gallatians, a -people of Asia Minor.  It was alleged
that the war was unjust, for they had given the Romans no sort
of provocation.  But the general urged in excuse, that they were
a wicked and profligate people, and that some of their ancestors,




468                  UNIVERSAL - HISTORY.           [BOOK IV
a few centuries before, had- plundered the temple of Delphi. The
apology was admitted, and Manlius was decreed the honor of a
triumph for having avenged this horrible sacrilege.  Justin, the
historian; informs us of a similar instance.  The Romans engaging
along with the Acarnanians, against the people of Atolia, had no
other excuse to allege for their interference in this quarrel, than
that the Acarnanians had performed a signal act of friendship to
their ancestors about a thousand years before-which was, that they
had joined the other Grecian states in sending troops to the siege
of Troy!
In the last ages of the commonwealth, the generals who commanded in those military expeditions, from a selfish and ambitious
policy, studied to increase this prevailing depravity. They allowed their soldiers to plunder with impunity, and countenanced every
species of dissoluteness of manners, in order to gain the affection
of the troops.  "Lucius Sylla," says Sallust, "that he might
gain the attachment of his army; entirely corrupted their ancient
simplicity of manners."  It was under him, in his Asiatic expeditions, that the Roman soldiers first became addicted to debauchery
and drinking.  There also they learned an affectation of taste for
paintings and for statues; a taste which in them led to private theft,
to public rapine, and'even to sacrilege.  The vanquished nations
had nothing to expect from such conquerors, but to be stripped
and plundered of all they possessed.
The shocking corruption of which Jugurtha made the experiment
upon all the ranks of the state-the facility which he found in
screening himself from the punishment of his atrocious crimes, first
by bribing the Roman senate, and afterwards by corrupting the generals who were sent against him-are scarcely credible to those
who have been accustomed to consider the Romans, in the early
times of the republic, as an heroic, a free, and a virtuous people.
But the Romans were now weary of calm and rational happiness;
their virtues were an incumbrance; and they saw no value in their
liberty, but in so far as they could make money by the sale of it.
Some few, who yet possessed a remnant of virtue, either from
motives of personal safety, or perhaps ashamed to live in such
society, voluntarily banished themselves from their country.  The
scenes that followed under Syllaf, Cinna, and the two triumvirates,
were the last,struggles which terminate a violent and mortal disease.
That the extinction of the liberties of the Roman people, and
the downfall of the commonwealth, were owing to the corruption
of the Roman manners, there cannot be the smallest doubt; nor
is it difficult to point out in a few words the causes of that corruption.  The extent of the Roman dominions towards the end of
the republic proved fatal to its virtues.  While confined within tl;e
bounds of Italy, every Roman soldier, accustomed to a life ot
nardship, of frugality and of industry, placed his chief happiness




CHe. VI.]          ROMAN COMMONWEALTH.                   469
in contributing in war to the preservation of his country, and in
peace to the maintenance of his family by honest labor.  A state
of this kind, which knows no intervals of ease or of indolence, is
a certain preservative of good morals, and a sure antidote against
every species of corruption.  But the conquest of Italy paved the
way for the reduction of foreign nations; for an immense acquisition of territory-a flood of wealth-and an acquaintance with the
manners, the luxuries, and the vices of the nations whom they
subdued. The Roman generals, instead of returning as formerly,
after a successful war, to the labors of the field, the occupations-of
industry, and a life of temperance- and frugality, were now the
governors of kingdoms and of provinces.  In these they lived
with the splendor of sovereign princes, and returning after the period of their command, to Rome, brought with them immense
treasures, which they had accumulated by every species of rapine
and oppression. Their importance at home was now signalized
by a desire of obtaining dominion over their country similar to
that which they had exercised in their province.  Utterly impatient of the restraints of a subject, they could be satisfied with
nothing less than sovereignty. The armies they had commanded
abroad, debauched by the plunder of kingdoms, and attached by
selfish interest to the men who' had countenanced and indulged
them in rapine, were completely disposed to support them in all
their schemes of ambition.  It was now only necessary to secure
the favor of the people of Rome, which the increasing taste for
luxury presented an easy method of obtaining. Games and shows
were exhibited at the most enormous expense, and festivals prepared for the populace, with every refinement of luxurious magnificence; and the Roman people, in the emphatic words of Juvenal,
__ —__" duas tantum res anxius optat,
Panem et Circenses,"
(that is, anxious only for food anl games,) easily abandoned their
liberty to the man who went the farthest in indulging them in their
sensual gratifications. Rivals in the same path of ambition divided this worthless populace into parties.  " The public assemblies,"
as M. Montesquieu has well remarked, "were now so many conspiracies against the state, and a tumultuous crowd of seditious
wretches were dignified with the title of conmitia.  The authority
of the people and their laws were, in these times of universal anarchy, no more than a chimera."  With a people thus fated to
destruction, in a government thus irretrievably destroyed by the
decay of those springs which once supported it, it was a matter
of very little consequence by the hands of what particular individuals it was finally extinguished.  We have seen who were the
active instruments in that dissolution, and the measures by which
they accomplished it, and it is needless here to recapitulate them




470                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY,              [BOOK IV,
From a consideration of the rise and fall of the states of Greece
and Rome, a political question has arisen, which in this place it is
of some importance to examine, and which the preceding observations, I believe, may, in a great measure, assist us in solving.
There is no maxim more common among the political writers,
nor any which is generally received with less hesitation, than this,
that the constitution of every empire, like that of the human body,
has necessarily its successive periods of growth, maturity, decline,
and extinction.  The fate of all the ancient nations whose annals
are recorded in history has led to the adopting of this as an axiom,
for which, independent of experience, it is not very easy to assign
a reasonable foundation.
All conclusions from analogy should be cautiously weighed.
The mind of' man, pleasing itself with its own sagacity in discovering relations not obvious to a common observer, has a great propensity, in comparing facts, to reduce them to general laws; and
from the coincidence and even resemblance of a few striking particulars, is apt very hastily to conclude that a perfect analogy
holds between them.  This mode of reasoning is extremely fallacious, and is never more to be suspected than when an analogy is
attempted to be drawn from physical truths to moral ones.
The human body, we know, contains within itself the principles of decay.  It undergoes a perpetual change from time.  The
bodily organs, at first weak and imperfect, attain gradually to thei,
perfect strength.  At this period they cannot be arrested, but are
subject to a decline equally perceptible with their progress to perfection.  But this is not the case with the body politic.  The
springs of its life do not necessarily undergo a perpetual change
from time; nor is it subject to the influence of any principle'of
corruption which may not be checked and even eradicated by
wholesome laws.  "c If," says the eloquent Rousseau, cc Sparta
and Rome have gone to destruction, what government or constitution can hope for perpetuity? "  True, it may be answered,
Sparta and Rome have gone to destruction; but was this the effect
of a law of nature, or does it follow that since these two states,
excellent indeed in many respects in their constitution, are ndw
extinct, all others must exhibit a similar progress?  From the
history of ancient nations, it is not difficult for a reader of discernment to discover and point out the principle of corruption which
has led to their dissolution; and a good politician can see what
remedy could have been effectual to check or to eradicate the
evil.' Sparta enjoyed a longer period of prosperous duration than
any other state of antiquity.  So long as her original constitution
remained inviolate, which was for the period of several centuries,
the Lacedoemonians were a virtuous, a happy, and a respectable
people. Frugality, we know, was the soul of Lycurgus's establishment. The luxurious disposition of a single citizen introduced
the poison of corruption. Lysander, whose military talents raised




CH. Vi ]            ROMAN COIMMONWEALTH.                   47.
his country to a superiority over all the Grecian states, sent home,
after the conquest of Athens, the wealth of that luxurious republic
to Lacedaemon.  It was debated in the senate whether it should
be received: the best and wisest of that order, considered it as a
most dangerous breach of the institutions of their legislator; but
others were dazzled with the lustre of that gold, with which they
were, till now, unacquainted, and the influence of Lysander prevailed for its reception. It was decreed to receive the money for
the use of the state, while it was at the same time declared a
capital crime for any of it to be found in the possession of a private
citizen-a weak resolution, which in effect was consecrating, and
making respectable in the eyes of the citizens, that very thing of
which it was necessary to forbid them to aspire at the possession.
Thus did corruption begin its first attack upon the constitution
of Lycurgus.  But was this corruption a necessary or an unavoidable evil?  Was Sparta come to that period, when a Lysander
must of necessity have arisen, whose disposition was adverse to
the spirit of her constitution, and whose influence was sufficiently
powerful to effect that breach of her fundamental laws?  A single
voice in the senate, perhaps, decided the fate of that illustrious
commonwealth.  Had there been one other virtuous man, whose
negative would have caused the rejection of that pernicious measure, Sparta might have continued to exist for ages, frugal, warlike,
virtuous, and uncorrupted.  Or again, even supposing corruption
once introduced, was it utterly impossible to find a remedy for the
disease?  Might not a second Lycurgus have arisen, who could
check that evil in its infancy against which the first was able so
well to guard?
The beginning of the corruption of the Roman state, we have
seen, may be dated from the time that the territory was extended
beyond the bounds of Italy.  The fatal effects of enlarging the
empire were certainly not foreseen; or we must conclude that the
same parties, who were so jealous of the smallest attacks upon tne
liberty of the people, would have been doubly anxious to have
guarded against measures which led, though remotely, to. the extinction of all liberty and the overthrow of the constitution; and
had the effect of these measures been foreseen, a few wise and
virtuous politicians might have prevented this being adopted. This,
at least, we may- say, that if, by a fundamental law of the state, the
Roman empire had been confined to Italy, and it had been a capital
crime for any Roman citizen to have proposed to carry the arms
of the republic beyond the limits of that country, the republic
might have preserved its constitution inviolate for many ages beyond the period of its actual duration.
Several ingenious men have exercised their talents in framing
the plan of such a political constitution as should best promote, the
happiness of the citizens, while it possessed the greatest possible
stability. We lay out of the question such ideal governments aX




472                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOd IV
the republic of Plato, the Utopia of More, and some modern
theories no less chimerical, because they proceed upon the basis
of amending the nature of man, and eradicating all his evil passions.
The systems of Harrington, however, in his 1" Oceana," and of
Mr. Hume in his "' Idea of a perfect Commonwealth," have been
considered as more worthy of the attention of mankind, as resting
upon the basis of human nature such as it is, and without assuming
for their foundation any wonderful improvement either of the moral
or intellectual nature of our species. Yet in so far as either of
these systems has been partially introduced into practice, we have
very little reason to subscribe to any eulogium upon'their merits.
Harrington, who wrote his "6 Oceana," during a period of the commonwealth of England, was so intoxicated with that newly erected
system  of government, as agreeing in many respects with his own
theory, that he boldly ventured to pronounce it impossible that
monarchy should ever be re-established in England. Yet his book
was scarcely published, when the nation, weary to death of an experiment which, under the mask of freedom, had loaded them with
tenfold tyranny, unanimously recurred to their ancient monarchical
constitution.
With respect to Mr. Hume's'"Idea of a perfect Commonwealth,"
it were, perhaps, not difficult to show that, instead of simplifying
the machine of government, it renders it so complicated, that it
would be impossible for it to proceed either with that regularity
or despatch which is often most essential to the mass of public
measures.  If, for example, in Mr. Hume's senate of one hundred
members, there should be only ten dissentient voices to the passing
of a law, that law is to be sent back to be debated and canvassed
by no less than 11,000 county representatives.  In the same
manner, if there should be but five of the one hundred senators
who approve of a law, while ninety-five disapprove of it, those
five have a right to summon the 11,000 county representatives,'
and take their sense of the matter. It surely requires little political
judgment to pronounce that such a constitution is utterly unfit for
the regulation of an extended or populous empire; yet Great
Britain is the subject upon which he supposes in theory that the
experiment is to be tried.  God forbid it ever should!  Had this
experiment been proposed in reality, Mr. Hume himself would
have been the first man to have resisted it.  His genuine sentiments of such experiments he has given in the words of sound
sense and wisdom.  "' It is not with forms of government," says
he, "as with other artificial contrivances, where an old engine
may be rejected if we can discover another more accurate or commodious, or where trials may be safely made, even though the
success be doubtful.  An established government has an infinite
advantage by that very circumstance of its being established; the
bulk of mankind being governed by authority, not reason, and
never attributing authority to any thing that has not the recomn




CH. VI.]            ROMAN COMMONWEALTH.                    473
menda'on of antiquity.  To tamper, therefore, in this affair," says
he,' atid to try experimehats, merely upon the credit of supposed
argument and philosophy, can never be the part of a wise magistrate, who will bear a reverence to what carries the marks of age:
though he may attempt some improvements for the public good,
yet he will adjust his inn6vations as much as possible to the ancient
fabric, and preserve entire the chief pillars and supports of the
constitution."
Time, which brings improvement to every science, has undoubtedly contributed much to the advancement of political. knowledge.
Among the chief advantages derived from the art of printing is
that of fixing and perpetuating all human attainments in science,
which, before that invention, either perished with their authors,
or if preserved by writing, were sparingly communicated even in
the country which produced them, seldom reached beyond it, and
were often in the course of a few generations irretrievably lost.
By the art of printing, the opinions of sonme of the greatest of the
an'ient philosophers and politicians, and, what is much more
valuable, the great outlines of the history of the most remarkable
states of antiquity, their laws, their manners, and customs, are now
committed to perpetual records, open to all nations, and familiar
to the knowledge of every individual who has enjoyed the most
ordinary education.
It is from this knowledge of the accumulated experience of ages,
that not only men, but nations, may derive the most important
lessons.  History will inform us' that some nations'have enjoyed,
during the course of many ages, an unvarying and uninterrupted
prosperity; while others have been destined to a short, unfortunate, and despicable mediocrity.  History will inform us, that the
greatest empires which have hitherto existed on the earth are now
sunk into oblivion; that Persia, Egypt, Greece, Macedonia, and
Rome, have fallen themselves, like the petty states which they
overwhelmed in their conquest.  But while we contemplate their
changes of fortune, their prosperity, their disgraces, their revolutions, and their final catastrophe, must these vicissitudes be considered only as the effect of a blind fatality?  Can they furnish us
with no other conclusion than that every human institution must
yield to the hand of time, against which neither wisdom nor virtue
can ultirmately afford a defence?  No, certainly: every nation of
antiquity has met with that fate which either its own political institutions, or the operation of foreign circumstances, must necessarily have induced.  "Accustom  your mind," said the excellent
Phocion to Aristias, " to discern in the prosperity of nations that
recompense which the Author of Nature has affixed to the practice
of virtue; and in their adversity, the chastisement which he has
thought proper to bestow on vice." No state ever ceased to be
prosperous, but in consequence of having departed fiom  those
institutions to which she owed her prosperity.
VOL. I.             60




474                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK IV
The ancient political writers, in speaking on the best f~rm of
a political establishnient, held this as a great desideratum, that a
government should possess within itself a power of periodical reformation; a capacity of reforming from  time to time all abuses;
of checking every overgrowth of power in any one branch of the
body politic; and, at short intervals of time, winding up, as it
were, the springs of the machine, and bringing the'constitution
back to its first principles.  To the want of this power of periodical
reformation in the ancient constitutions, which was ineffectually
endeavored to be supplied by such contrivances as the ostracism
and petalism, we may in a great measure attribute their decline
and extinction; for in these governments, when the balance was
once destroyed by an increase of power in any one branch, the
evil grlew worse from day to day, and at length, was utterly irremediable, unless by a revolution or entire change of the political
system.  Happily for us Britons, that which was a desideratum
in the ancient govelnrnents is with us realized; that power of
reforming all abuses, and even of making alterations and amendments as time and circumstances require, which is perfectly agreeable to the spirit of our constitution, has given us an unspeakable
advantage, both over all the states of antiquity, and over every
other governmnent among the moderns.  But let us not abuse this
advantage, or convert what is a wholesome remedy into a poison.
There are seasons when political reforms are safe, expedient, and
desirable; there are others when none but the most rash empiric would prescribe their application.  If the minds of a people
are violently agitated by political enthusiasm, kindled by the example of other nations actually in a state of revolution,-if that
class of the people who derive their subsistence from  bodily labor
and industry are artfully rendered discontented with their situation,
inflamed by pictures of imaginary grievances, and stimulated by
delusive representations of immunities to be acquired, and blessings to be obtained, by new political systems, in which they themselves are to be legislators and governors,-if there should be a
time when the common people are taught to believe that a subordination of ranks and conditions is contrary to the laws of God
and nature, and that the inequality they perceive in the.possessions
of. the rich and poor is a proof of the diseased state of the. body
politic, —if such should be the delusions of the community, which
the traitorous designs of others aim at rendering general; in such
a crisis it cannot be the part of true patiotism to attempt the reform
or amendment even of confessed imperfections.  The hazard of
the experiment at such a time is apparent to all rational and reflecting men.  It is then we feel it our duty to resist all attempts at
innovation- to cherish with gratitude the blessings we enjoy, and
quietly await a more favorable opportunity of gently and easily
removing our small imperfections-trivial, indeed, when balanced
against that high measure of political happiness of which the com
munity at large is possessed.




BOOK THE FIFTH.
CHAPTER I.
Fate of the Roman Republic decided by the Battle of Actium-Reign of Aagustus - Birth of our Saviour JEsvs CHRIST - Tiberius - Crucfixion of
our Saviour-Caligula-GClaudius-Nero-Galba-Otho-Vitellius-Vespasian
-Titus-Domitian —Nerva-Trajan-Adrian.
THE battle of Actium decided, as we have above seen, the fate of
the Roman republic; and Octavius, now hailed by the splendid
title of Augustus, was master of the Roman -empire. We have
seen this singular person raise himself to the highest summit of
power, without a tincture of those manly and heroic virtues which
generally distinguish the authors of important revolutions.  Those
fortunate circumstances which concurred to promote his elevation;
the adoption by Julius Caesar, the weakness of Lepidus, the infatuation of Mark Antony, the treachery of Cleopatra, and, perhaps,
more than all, his own insinuating flattery and duplicity of conduct-were shortly hinted at as the great instruments in the good
fortune of Augustus.
Possessing that sagacity which enabled him to discern distinctly
what species of character would please the people, he had, in
addition to this, all that versatility of genius which enabled him to
assume it; and so successfully did he follow out this idea, that to
those unacquainted with the former conduct of the man, nothing
was now discernible but the qualities which were indicative of
goodness, and virtue, and munificence. The fate of Caesar warned
him of the insecurity of an usurped dominion; and we shall sle
him, whilst he studiously imitated the clemency of his great predecessor, affect a much greater degree of respect for the pretended
rights of that degraded people whom he ruled at the same time
with the most absolute authority. He had not yet returned from
Egypt when, at Rome, they had already decreed him every honor
both human and divine.  The title of Imperator was conferred on
him for life. His colleague, Sextus Apuleius, along with the whole
senate, took a solemn oath to obey the emperor's decrees; and it
was determined that he should hold the consulate so long as he




476                   UNIVERSAL HIISTORY.              [BOOK V.
esteemed it necessary for the interests of the people.. Such
was the contemptible servility of all ranks of the state, that temples were erected to his honor, and public worship and sacrifice
performed at the altars of the "divine Augustus."  He, however, with becoming modesty, requested that these honors might' be
paid to him in the provinces alone, as at Rome he should never
regard himself but as a private citizen invested with the superintendence of the rights and liberties of the republic.  The state
being now in profound peace, the temple of Janus, which had remained open since the beginning of the second Punic war-a period of 188 years-was shut,-an event which occasioned the
most universal joy.  This single circumstance contributed much
to abolish the memory of all those cruelties, proscriptions, and
complicated horrors, which had accompanied the triumvirate and
the civil wars; and the "Iinfatuated. Romans now believed themselves a free people, since they had no longer to fight for their
liberty." *
It was the policy of Augustus to keep up this favorable delusion, by extraordinary marks of indulgence and munificence.  He
gratified the people by continually amusing them with their favorite games and spectacles; he affected an extreme regard for all
the ancient popular customs; he pretended the utmost deference
for the senate; he re-established the Comitia, which the internal
commotions of the government had prevented from being regularly held; he flattered the people with the ancient right of electing their own magistrates; if he presented candidates, it was only
to give a simple recommendation, under reservation that they
should be judged worthy by the people, and the people, on their
part, could not but regard as the most certain symptom of desert,
the recommendation of so gracious a prince.  It was in this manner that Augustus, by the retention of all those empty but ancient appendages of liberty, concealed the form of that arbitrary
monarchy which he determined to maintain; and that he thus,
with the most hypocritical and specious generosity, contrived, with
the machinery of freedom, to accomplish all the purposes of despotism.
After having established an appearance of order in the several
departments of the state, Augustus, to complete the farce, affected
a:wish to abdicate his authority, and return to the rank of a private citizen; but this was a piece of gross affectation.  He consuilted Mecenas, however, and Marcus Agrippa, whether he ought
to follow his inclination.  Mecanas, with the most honest, though
certainly not the wisest policy, exhorted him to put his design in
execution; but Agrippa, more of a courtier, and perhaps having
more discernment into the real character of Augustus, or dreading
*Condillac.




C-H. I.]                  AUGUSTUS-                        477
the repetition of those cruel and turbulent scenes which had preceded his exaltation, assured him that the public happiness depended entirely on his continuing to hold the reins of government;
and this advice was too consonant to the actual views of Augustus not to be readily embraced.
This seeming moderation, however, increased the popularity of
Augustus, and even paved the way for an extension of his power.
flie censorship had, for man  years, fallen into disuse.  Under
the pretence of effecting a reformation of various abuses in the
several orders of the community, Augustus requested that he
might be invested with censorial powers; and having obtained this
office, he introduced many improvements in the different departments of the government, which, although salutary in themselves,
contributed much to the increase of his own authority.  ~With this
daily augmentation of power, he was not without continual alarms,
for his personal safety.  He was naturally timid, and the fate of
Caesar was ever before him.  For a considerable time, he never
went to the senate-house without a suit of armor under his robe;
he carried a dagger in his girdle; and was always surrounded by
ten of the bravest of the senators, on whose attachment he could
thoroughly depend.  It was much to the credit of Augustus that
he reposed an unlimited confidence in Mecaenas-a most able minister, and one who, with the firmest attachment to his sovereign, appears to have always had at heart the interest and happiness of the
people.  It was by his excellent counsels that Augustus was taught
to assume those virtues to which his nature was a stranger; it was
to the patronage of Mecaenas that literature and the fine arts owed
much of their encouragement and consequent progress; it was by his
instructions, by the counsels he inculcated, that the base and inhuman
Octavius was transformed into the affable and humane Augustus.
In the seventh year of his consulate, Augustus again pretended
a desire to abdicate, and he actually informed the senate that he
had resigned all authority; but he was now secure of the consequences of this avowal. From those mercenary voices which had,
no doubt, been behind the scenes, well trained to this hypocritical
farce, there was now one universal cry of supplication, entreating him
not to abandon that republic which he had preserved from destruction,, and whose existence depended on his paternal care.  " Since
it must be so," said he, "I accept the empire for ten years, unless
the public peace and tranquillity shall permit me before that time
to seek that ease and retirement which I so passionately desire."
He would not even consent to take the burden of the whole empire, but entreated that the senate and people should govern a
part of the provinces. From the distribution which followed, we
learn the extent of the Roman eImpire at this time.  Augustus
reserved for his own government Italy, the two Gauls, Spain, Germany, Syria, Phoenicia, Cyprus, and Egypt.  To the senate
and people were allotted d.frica Proper, Numidia, Lybia, Bithy



478                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               L.noos  v
nia, Pontus, Greece, Illyria, Macedonia, Dalmatia, and the Islands
of Crete, Sicily, and Sardinia.  The provinces of which Augustus retained the government direct were those where the legions
were principally stationed!
The title of Consul, which had been of assistance at first in
disguising his power, was now judged unnecessary by Augustus;
and the annual ceremony of the renewal of this dignity perhaps
recalled too strongly to the minds*of the people the irrevocable
tenure by which he held it.  He resigned it, therefore, in the
eleventh year of his consulate; and, as a compensation for this
exercise of moderation, the people entreated him to accept of the
office of Perpetual Tribune. By this refined policy, every increase of power seemed, so far from any encroachment upon his
part, to be forced upon him by the anxious entreaty of the people.  In virtue of this last, office, he became in all causes, civil
as well as criminal, the supreme judge. Formerly in the republic
there had never been recognised any right of appeal from any
of the courts to the tribunes; but the people, who had always till
now considered themselves as possessing the supereminent right
of appeal, now voluntarily conferred it upon their perpetual tribune, as their chief magistrate and virtual representative.
Marcellus, the nephew of Augustus, to whom he had given his
daughter in marriage, and whom he destined for his successora personage of great promise-died at this time, to the unspeakable regret of the Roman people, in the very flower of his youth.
He had just completed his twentieth year, and in his talents and
disposition had begun to show every indication of a great and a
generous prince.  HIe has been immortalized by Virgil in that exquisite eulogium, with which all are acquainted, in the sixth book
of his.Eneid.
Marcus Agrippa was the man who seemed to stand next to this
amiable youth in the affection of the emperor.  Agrippa had married the niece of Augustus; but on the death of Marcellus, he
caused him to divorce her, and in return gave him  his daughter,
the widow of Marcellus, in marriage. This lady was the infamous Julia, who afterwards became so openly scandalous in her
amours, that her father, after informing the senate of his reasons,
condemned her to banishinent.
Notwithstanding the absolute authority now possessed by Augustus, it vas still the policy of this monarch to retain all the exterior forms of a republic. The elections of magistrates were punctually held in the Comitia.  Consuls were, as usual, annually
chosen; and the republic retained its aediles, its tribunes, its quaestors, and praetors.  In the government of Augustus, and in the
gradual increase of his authority, the prince, to all appearance derives his power from the people. After a little, we shall observe
the emperor affecting to conceal this truth; and in the sequel, it
will be totally forgotten.




CHU. I.].AUGUSTUS.                        479
While Augustus had thus, step by step, arrived at the suimmit
of power, his son-in-law Agrippa had' entirely brought under subjection the Spanish peninsula, where, for nearly two centuries, the
Romans had been compelled to a continual struggle.  Augustus,
to secure his own authority, by firmlyattaching to himself so able
a general, associated him with himself in the office of censor.
The two censors immediately applied themselves with great vigor
to the reformation of abuses. Augustus, perhaps not hypocritically, affected the highest regard to the purity of public morals,
although in his own private life he is known to have been profligate and vicious.
The tenth year, the period which he had appointed for laying
down his authority, had now arrived;.  He accordingly did so,
and, at the earnest entreaty of the people, again resumed it; and
so fond does he appear to have been of this solemn farce, that five
times in the course of his government he amused the nation with
this empty pageantry of their pretended power.  The empire was
now again threatened with war, and Augustus set out for Gaul,
into which the Germans had begun now to make those irruptions,
which proved afterwards so fatal to the provinces.  Drusus, in the
meantime, defeated the Rhetians, a people inhabiting part of the
n;iern Switzerland; and Agrippa restored peace to Asia.  In
marking the successive steps of despotism, it is not unnecessary
to mention that this general was the first who refused the honor
of a triumph, which gave rise to this privilege belonging ever afterwards only to the emperors; and that he omitted also, for the
first time, that customary form of acquainting the senate with the
detail of his military operations, corresponding  with Augustus
alone. In these matters, of course, his example became henceforth the rule.
At this time died Marcus Agrippa, and his widow Julia now
took her third husband, Tiberiu3, who became thus by a double
tie the son-in-law of Augustus, for the emperor had likewise married his mother Livia.  Augustus was then at war with the Pannonians, Dacians, and Dalmatians.  Tiberius and his brother
Drusus commanded the armies against those barbarous tribes with
great success, but, to the deep regret of the Romans, their particular
favorite Drusus died in Germany, leaving three children, Germanicus, Claudius (afterwards emperor,) and Julia, married to Caius
Caesar. Caius was the son of Agrippa by Julia, whom Augustus had
adopted, along with his brother Lucius.  These two princes died
soon after, poisoned as it was supposed by Livia, the wife of Au.gustus, to make way for the succession of her son Tiberius.  This
dark and ambitious man now bent all his powers to gain the confidence of Augustus, who, upon his return from a successful cam.
paign against the Germans, not only allowed him the honor of a
triumph, but associated him with himself in the government of the
empire. At the request of Augustus also, the people, accustomed




480                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOK v
now to unlimited compliance: conferred upon Tiberius the government of the provinces and the supreme command of the armies.
On the ground of his advanced age, the emperor now found an
opportunity of shaking off all that dependence upon the senate
and people to which his policy had hitherto confined him.  He
no longer came regularly to the senate, but formed a sort of privy
council, consisting of twenty senators, together with the consuls
of the year, and the consules designati; and it was determined in
the senate, that the resolutions of this assembly should have the
same authority as the sencatus consulta.  Augustus did not long
survive this his last and boldest innovation.  He died soon after
at Nola, in Campania, in the seventy-sixth year of his age, after
having, in conjunction with Mark Antony, ruled the Roman republic for nearly twelve, and governed alone as emperor for forty-four
years.
In treating of the Roman literature, we observed that high degree of advancement to which it attained under the reign of Augustus; and we may attribute no small part of that lustre which
has been thrown upon his administration, to the splendid coloring
bestowed on his character by the illustrious poets who adorned his
court, and repaid his favors by their incense and adulation.
" Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona
Multi, sed omnles illacrymabiles
Urgentur ignotique longa
Nocte, carent quia vate sacro."
Augustus, by, his testament, had named Tiberius his heir, together with his mother Livia, and substituted to them Drusus, the
son of Tiberius, and Germanicus.  Tiberius was no favorite with
the body of the people. They knew him to be vicious and debauched, and of a severe and cruel disposition; yet to so low a
pitch of degradation had they now fallen, that the very dread of
these vices in his character operated so strongly on their servile
minds as to secure his succession to the empire without a whisper
of opposition. An embassy of the senators was deputed to offer
him the reins of government while he was on his return from
Illyria.  He received them with much affected humility; talked
of the burden of so extensive an empire and his own limited abil-.ty; pretended uncommon unwillingness to undertake so exalted
an office; and, at length, after the usual ceremony of tears and
supplication on the part of the senate, was at last prevailed to
yield to their entreaties.
Notwithstanding these promising symptoms, this was all the
mockery of moderation with which Tiberius ever condescended to
flatter the prejudices of the senate or the people; for it soon after
appeared that he esteemed the power enjoyed by his predecessor
as far too little for his ambition.  It was not sufficient for him
that the substance of the republic was now gone for ever; the
very appearance of it, and all those forms which recalled it to his




C{. I.]                   TIBERIUS.                       481
recollection, were judged necessary to be abolished   Augustus
had received from the people the power of legislation, but he left
them in return the right of electing their own magistrates, and all
the privileges of the Cormitia. Tiberius at once abolished all these
formalities.  The people were no longer assembled, yet the emperor did not choose to break entirely with the senate.  He frequently affected, to consult them, or at least to communicate to
them his resolutions, and flattered them still with the possession of
a shadow of authority.
The uncertainty of the laws with regard to treason gave at las!
to Tiberius an opportunity of discovering his natural disposition
Sylla had declared the authors of libels guilty of treason.  This
law had fallen into disuse under Julius Caesar, who treated such
offences with their merited contempt.  Augustus had revived the
law; Tiberius, with his usual dissimulation, neither renewed it nor
abrogated it.  The praetor having asked if he should take cognizance of such offences, the emperor vouchsafed him no other
answer thani that he should observe the laws; an answer which
sufficientiy, informed the people what they had to expect, whilst
Tiberius persuaded himself that he thus avoided all imputation of
adopting sanguinary measures.
Meantime his'nephew, Germanicus, who was acquiring grea.
glory by his military exploits in Germany, was recalled by Tiberius, who had become jealous of his popularity with the army.
The emperor sent him to the oriental provinces on the pretence of
quelling some insurrections, and a short time after he died —-,-as
Wvas suspected of poison administered to him by command of Tiberius. Every vicious prince has his favorite, the minister of his
pleasure, and the obsequious instrument of his criminal or tyrannical purposes.  AElius Sejanus was prefect of the praetorian bands,
who were the emperor's guards-a body of men amounting then
to ten thousand of the flower of the troops, but who, increasing
in number and in political power, became at last the sovereign disposers of the empire.  Sejanus, their prefect, acquired at length
so complete an ascendency over the mind of Tioerius, that he overcame the natural reserve and suspicion of his temper, and became
the confidant of his most secret thoughts.  It was not to be wondered at that this minion should entertain the, highest views of ambition.  He conceived no less a design than to exterminate the
whole family of the Caesars, and his first step was the poisoning of
Drusus, the son of Tiberius, which he contrived to execute so
secretly that he escaped all suspicion both of the emperor and of
tht people.  His next design was to remove Agrippina, the widow
of Germanicus, with hertwo sons, Nero and the younger Drusus,
Sejanus accordingly represented Agrippina to Tiberius as a woman
of unlimited ambition, and who secretly fomented a party of malecontents in the state as assistants to her own aggrandizement ana
that of her sons. To this accusation, the natural pride and haugh
VOL. I.                61




482                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [aoxr v
tiness of the temper of Agrippina gave some shadow of color, and
she and Nero, her eldest son, were condemned to banishment,
whilst the younger Drusus, was confined to prison.
Every day now produced some new information, some pretended
charge of treason brought by Sejanus and his infamous minions
against the most eminent persons of the court; and the idea that
these informations were pleasing to the dark and vindictive mind
of the emperor, began to multiply them  exceedingly.  The constant executions for treason, by which Sejanus was daily clearing
the way for the accomplishment of his own designs, produced at
length such an, effect on the gloomy temper of Tiberius, that he
believed his life to be in continual danger. At the instigation of
Sejanus, he quitted Rome and retired to the Isle of CapreWe, in
the'Bay of Naples,,carrying with him a few of the senators, and
some Greek literati, in whose conversation he professed to' find
entertainment.  It is said that in this retreat the old tyrant gave
himself up to excesses in debauchery which exceed all credibility.
It is certain, however, that the severity of his former manner of
life was very opposite to such licentiousness of character, and we
may naturally presume that the hatred of his subjects, and the
concealment which he probably chose from  the consideration of
personal safety, have given occasion to much aspersion, or at least
to great exaggerations on the subject.
Sejanus, meanwhile, had  acquired an absolute  authority in
Rome, and was sovereign in every thing but the name.  It was
but a small step, to a villain of his complexion, to aim likewise at
that last acquisition.  He formed, therefore, a design, to assassi
nate Tiberius; —but the conspiracy was discovered.  Such, however, was the influence of Sejanus, that the emperor was obliged
to use art and address to bring him to punishment. He at first loaded him with caresses, and caused hirm to be nominated to the consulate. He then took occasion privately to sound the minds of the
people, and hinted some grounds of dissatisfaction with his conduct,
which instantly he perceived to cool the zeal'of his former flatterers
and pretended friends. Convinced now of the ground on which he
stood, and certain that this dreaded popularity of Sejanus was hollow, and the effect of power alone, whilst he was really detested uy
all ranks in the state, Tiberius deemed it time to throw off the mask.
He sent; therefore, an officer to deprive him of the command of
the prstorian guards; and accusing aimr at the same time of treason by a letter to the senate, Sejanus was instanntly arrested, con,
demned to death by'acclamation, torn to pieces, and thrown into
the Tiber.  Tiberius now became'more negligent than ever of
the cares of government, and confusion prevailed in every department of the state.  The magistracies were unsupplied, the distant
provinces were without governors, and the Roman name became
oontemptible.  The only exertions of the imperial power were
manifested in public executions, confiscations, and the most complicated scenes of cruelty and rapine.  At length the emPire was.




U. X,.                     CALIGULA.                       483
delivered from this odious tyrant, who falling sick at Misenum, was
strangled in his bed by Macro, the new prefect, who had succeeded
Sejanus in the command of the praetorian. cohorts.  He was put
to death in the 78th year of his age, and the 23rd of his reign.
One great event distinguished the reign of Tiberius.  In the
I8th year of that reign, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the
Son of God, and the divine author of our religion, suffered death
upon the cross, a sacrifice and propitiation for the sins of mankind.
It is said that soon after his death, Pilate, the Jewish governor,
wrote to Tiberius an account of his passion, resurrection, and miracle,s, upon which the emperor made a report of the whole to the
senate, desiring that Jesus might be acknowledged a god by the
Romans, but that the senate,. displeased that the proposal had not
come from themselves, refused. the emperor's request.  This last
circumstance utterly discredits the story, for the Roman senate
dared not refuse the request of Tiberius.  The progress of the
Christian relifgion, from its first institution till the utter extinction
of Paganism in the Roman empire, will form the future subject of
a connected chapter.
By his testament, the emperor had nominated as his successor
Caligula, the son of Germanicus, and his grandson by adoption,
together with Tiberius, the son of Drusus, and his grandson by
blood.  Caligula was, on his father's account, the favorite of the
people, and more especially of the soldiers, amongst whom he had
been educated; and the senate, to gratify the people, chose to set
aside the nomination in favor of Tiberius, and to confer the sovereignty on Caligula alone.  His accession to the empire, gave,
therefore, universal satisfaction; and, for a time, he condescended
to maintain this favorable opinion by a few acts of clemency and
moderation.  He removed the informers who swarmed through
IRome, and had been the bane of'the preceding reign. He restored for a while the privileges of the Comitia, and he gratified
the people still more by their favorite exhibition of public games
and shows.  But this dawn of sunshine soon gave place to a day
of gloom and horror.  Caligula, weary of dissimulation, threw off
the mask at once.  Macro, the murderer of his predecessor, was
too dangerous a man to continue long in that favor with Caligula in which this piece of service had placed him-he was accordingly murdered.  The young Tiberius, although then no favorite
of the people, might become so, when they discovered the real
temper of the rival they had preferred to him.  He was, therefore, speedily cut oiT.  Caligula had abolished informations on
account of treason, but he did so only to facilitate the rapidity of
execution, and he now, therefore, required not the formality of an
information.  He put to death, without assigning even a pretence,
whatever person he took a prejudice against.  It is inconceivable
to what excess this monster proceeded. His whole reign, with
the exception- of a few months at its commencement, was one




484                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [Boo  v
continued and complicated scene of madness and cruelty.  "Caligula," says Montesquieu, " was a true sophist in his cruelty: as
he was the descendant of both Antony and Augustus, he was
wont to say, that he would punish both those who celebrated the
anniversary of the battle of Actium, and those who did not."
Upon the death of his sister, Drusilla, he punished some for
mourning for her, because they ought to have known she was a
goddess; and put to death others for not mourning, because she
was the sister of the emperor.
In addition to all this, Caligula loaded the provinces with the
most excessive taxes; and such was his avarice, that every day
some of the citizens fell a sacrifice in -the confiscations of their
property. It would only create disgust were we to enter into any
detail of the complicated. and ingenious cruelties and the absurd
extravagances of a rmadman-of the multiplied instances of his
folly as well as of his depravity-his ridiculous mock campaignsthe temples he erected in honor of himself, where, in the character of his own priest, le offered sacrifices to himself, sometimes as
Jupiter, and sometimes as Juno.  One day he chose to be Mercury, the next he was Bacchus or Hercules.  At last, in the fourth
year of his reign, this monster met with the fate which he deserved,
and was assassinated by Chaereas, a tribune of the pretorian
guards, in the twenty-ninth year of his age.
The great body of the Roman people and of the senate would
row have gladly preferred the restoration of the republic to the
continuance of the empire; but the soldiers, who were all powerful, preferred a military government under an emperor, over
whom they begun now to discover that they could have unlimited
command.  At the time when Caligula was put to death, Claudius, his uncle, and the brother of Germanicus, a man whose weak
and childish disposition had never cherished an ambitious thought,
had concealed himself in a corner of the palace for fear of assassination. A soldier accidentally discovering his retreat, saluted
him emperor.  Whilst Claudius was tremblingly begging his life
to be spared, some others coming up, they put him in a litter and
carried hrim to the camp of the pratorian guards.  There, as yet
afraid, and uncertain of his fate, he promised to each of the soldiers
a large gratification, and received in return their oaths of allegiance.
The people approved the choice, and the senate was obliged to
confirm  it.  Thus was the empire bo tght for the first time-a
practice which we shall see become in future extremely common.
Claudius at the age of fifty was still a child: his countenance
was that of an idiot, and his mind,- naturally weak, had never received the smallest tincture of education.  He was the son of
Octavia, the sister of Augustus; but as he had never been adopted,
he did not belong to the family which carried the names of Caesar
and of.Augustus./ He assumed,, however, both; and they were
henceforth considered as titles annexed to the imperial power —




~Erof. L]               CLAUDIUS.                       485
the reigning emperor being always styled Augustus, and his appointed successor honored with the title of Casar.
Claudius knew that, to become popular, he ought to go counter
to every measure of his predecessor.  He began, therefore, by
abolishing most of his laws. He passed an act of oblivion for all
former offences against the state, and he appeared for awhile to
bend his whole attention to the strict administration of justice and
the establishment of good order.  He even began to show symptorms of an enterprising disposition, which was quite opposite to all
ideas which had been formed of his character from the tenor of his
past life; and he undertook to reduce Britain under subjection to
the Roman arms, which, in the opinion of Tacitus, Julius Cesar
had rather pointed out than conquered.  He accordingly sent
thither Plautius, one of his generals, and encouraged by his success, was induced afterwards to go thither in person.  But this
was entirely an expedition of show and parade.  He remained but
sixteen days in the island, leaving his lieutenants Plautius and
Vespasian to prosecute the war, which continued with various
success for many years.  The Silures or inhabitants of South
Wales, under their king Caradoc or Caractacus, made a most
powerful and obstinate resistance.  This warlike  prince, with
great address and military skill, contrived to remove the seat of
war into the most inaccessible parts of,:the country, and for nine
years the Romans saw no prospect of reducing this courageous
people to subjection.  At length, in one unfortunate engagement,
the Britons were entirely defeated; the wife and daughter of
Caractacus were taken prisoners; and this brave man was afterwards treacherously delivered to the Romans by Cartismandua,
queen of the Brigantes, in whose territories he had sought refuge.
He was soon after conducted to Rome, where he displayed that
noble spirit which attracted from all who beheld him, at once their
respect and admiration.  In passing through the streets of that
sumptuous capital, and observing the splendor of all the objects
around him, "Alas!" exclaimed he, " is it possible that they who
possess such magnificence at home should envy Caractacus his
poor cottage in Britain?"   He appeared undismayed before the
tribunal of the emperor, and although he disdained here to sue for
pardon or for mercy, yet lhe was willing for the good of his peoplle
to accept of it; and Claudius, it must be acknowledged, treated
him with a generous humanity.
The commencement of this reign promised extremely well;
but what possible dependence could there be on a man so weak
as to be guided by the lowest officers of his court.  The servants
and the freed men of Claudius had such an ascendency over him,
that they obtained from  him offices of the utmost importance
in the empire.  The meanest of his domestics were appointed
judges in the different tribunals, and governors of the provinces.
These dishonorable and avaricious wretches reduced peculation to




486                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [oo00K V
a system, and filled every corner of the empire with loud complaints of their rapine and extortion.  M'essalina, also, the vicious
and abandoned wife of Claudius, urged him on to various acts of
injustice and cruelty.  This woman was infamous for all manner
of vices.  IHer debaucheries, which were quite notorious in Rome,
exceed all belief; but, what is the most surprising part of her
character, she had the address to pass with Claudius, as a paragon
of virtue.  She at length, however, 1proceeded to that height of
effrontery, that during a short absence of Claudius she publicly
married Caius Silius, and upon the emperor's return, made him,
by way of jest, to sign the marriage contract. Narcissus, his freedman, soon made him sensible that the matter. was too serious,
by informing him  that the people no longer looked upon him
as emperor: utterly unable to act for himself, he now entreated
that Narcissus would take any steps he judged best for his interest; and his favorite, thus invested with authority, immediately
securedth'e pratorian guards, and caused Messalina and Silius her
gallant to be put to death.  Claudius now, by the advice of his'faithful counsellors, his freedmen, married his niece Agrippina,
the daughter of Germanicus, a woman equally vicious as Messalina, and more daring in her crimes.  Her favorite object was to
secure the empire for her son Domitius _Enobarbus; and, to gain
the freedmen to her interest, she made no scruple to prostitute
herself to them. In the prosecution of her scheme she employed
banishment, poison, murder-every different engine of vice and
inhumanity., She obliged Octavia, the emperor's daughter, to
marry Domitius, whom  she now made Claudius adopt, to the
prejudice of his son Britannicus; and Domitius was hailed Cwasar,
with- the titles of.Nero Claudius Czesar Drusus Germanicus.
She gave him for his preceptor Seneca, the Stoic philosopher,
from whose instructions he reaped no other benefit than an ostentatious display of taste and erudition, without possessing any tincture of either.  Agrippina, having by these complicated crimes
paved the way for the succession of her son to the throne, now
thought proper to make way for him by poisoning her husband;
and Claudius, after a reign of fourteen years, was thus carried
off at the age of sixty-three.
The succession of Nero was immediate.  The captain of the
praetorian guards presented him to the soldiers; he promised them
a considerable donative, and in return was proclaimed emperorthe senate, with their usual passive compliance, confirming the
choice. Nero began, like some of his predecessors, upon a good
plan, but unfortunately it was not his own.  His preceptor, the
celebrated Seneca, had acquired such influence over him, that the
first few years of hi-. reign promised'a revival of the times of Augustus; but his natural disposition-could no longer be restrained.
With Seneca, who prompted his decrees and kept"him  within
the bounds of moderation, he appeared in public a wise and




CHo.j                       NERO,                         487
amiable prince, yet at this very time it was his favorite amusement to range through the streets of Rome with a band of young
debatuchees, who indulged themselves in every species of outrage
and disorder.  His natural disposition first publicly showed itself in
an indolent neglect of all the cares of government; and his mother,
Agrippina, took advantage of this disposition by ruling every thing
as she chose.  Seneca warned his pupil of the danger of allowing
free course to the views of this ambitious and unprincipled woman, and his first step was to dismiss from the court her chief
favorites and confidants. The violence of Agrippina prompted
her to seek an outrageous revenge.  She proposed to bring Britanniceus to the praetorian bands, and to acknowledge before them
the crimes she had committed to place Nero on the throne.  The
emperor prevented the execution of this purpose by poisoning
Britannicus, while he sat at supper with himself; but he sought
againlst his mother a more refined vengeance.  She was invited to
Bairn, to celebrate the feast of Bacchus. The ship in which she
sailed was constructed in such a manner as to burst and fall to
pieces at sea; but the machinery failed, and Agrippina came safe
ashore.  Nero, enraged at the disappointment of his stratagem, ordered one of his freedmen to assassinate her.
As he was now rid of those anxieties which arose from his
dread of the designs of Agrippina, and had nothing material to
occupy his mind, (for he disdained the proper cares of empire,)
he gave a loose to the meanest and most vicious passions.  He
prompted the young nobility to exhibit themselves as actors upon
the stage; he'forced the Roman knights to fight, like gladiators,
in the arena; and in these disgraceful amusements he bore himself a principal part.  Burrhus, the captain of the  praetorian
guards, a man of talents and of virtue-although at times, he had
appeared to show too much compliance with the will of his master —
was not, in the opinion ofNero, sufficiently obsequious, and was
therefore removed by poison.  Upon his death, Seneca, who lost
a powerful friend, retired from the court.  Nero had no longer any
around him but the profligate -and abandoned like himself. Poppaea, a woman of great beauty, but abandoned morals, had been
seduced from her husband by Otho, who in his turn prostituted
her to the emperor, to serve his own purposes of ambition.  She
soon gained such an ascendency over Nero, that he was induced to
divorce his wife Octavia to make way for her to the throne; and
suchl was, at this time, the infamous servility of the Roman senate, that a panegyric was pronounced in praise of the emperor,
and a deputation sent to congratulate him on this auspicious event.
A  conspiracy, which was at this time discovered, gave Nero
ample scope for the gratification of the, natural cruelty of his disposition. The slightest suspicion of guilt was now punished wit.h
immediate death.  It was a sufficient crime if a man was seen to
have saluted a suspected person. Seneca, amongst others, was




488                  uNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK V
accused of having been privy to this conspiracy; and as a mark of'
the emperor's gratititude for the past services of his preceptor, he
was permitted to choose the manner of his death.  He chose to
expire in a warm bath, after having his veins opened.
Nero, intoxicated with his own accomplishments as a gladiator
and combatant in the arena, was not content with the applause of
Rome: he determined now to show himself in Greece, where he
contended for, and consequently gained, the prize at the Olympic
and Pythian games.  On his return to the Capitol he celebrated
a splendid triumph, where he commanded himself to be hailed by
the titles of Hercules and Apollo.
It becomes painful to enumerate a long series of extravagant
instances of every variety of vice, and multiplied examples of the
most complicated and capricious cruelty. The tyranny of this
monster at length found an end.  Vindex, an illustrious Gaul, by
his interest with his countrymen as propraetor, excited them to a
general revolt. He offered the empire to Galba, then governor of
Spain, who took upon himself the title of Lieutenant of the Senate and People of Rome.  The provinces declared in his favor.
Rome was divided, and at length the party of Vindex prevailed.
Nero, abandoned by his guards, was obliged to conceal himself in
the house of one of his freedmen.  The senate proclaimed him
an enemy to his country, and condemned him to die more majorum; that isi to be scourged, thrown from  the Tarpeian rock, and
then flung into the Tiber.  Unable to bear the thoughts of such a
death, Nero tried the points' of two daggers, but wanted courage
to die by his own hand.  He entreated the aid of one of his slaves,
who was not slow in the performance of that friendly office, and
was in this manner put to death, after a reign of fourteen years,
in the thirtieth year of his age; a character happily difficult to be
paralleled in the annals of human nature.
In the time of the civil wars, the generals of the republic were
certain of the obedience of their troops.  They were devoted to
their chiefs, and although expecting a recompense, they never
dared to claim it as their due.  Things had now entirely changed
A  long state of servitude had annihilated every generous senti.
ment.  Even the -names of the ancient Roman families were lost
The soldiers now saw nothing in Rome but a despicable senate, a servile populace, and immense riches-of which last they
soon found that they were the supreme disposers.  The proetorian
guards had now every thing at their command. Galba was of an
ancient and illustrious family. He had conducted himself honorably in the government of several of the provinces, \but old age
had unfortunately turned to avarice a disposition naturally economical, and his manners, rigid.from his life and constitution, were now
become severe and cruel.  He was seventy-three years of age
when he was proclaimed emperor. He had scarcely arrived in
Italy, when his conduct, entirely alienated the affections of the




A. D. 69.]               GALBA-OTHO.                       489
army to-whom he owed his elevation. He disappointed them of
the reward they expected, telling them that an emperor should
choose his soldiers, and not purchase them. The people too, who,
in the time of Nero, had been constantly amused with games and
public shows, could not easily brook the loss of their favorite spectacles. In other instances the new emperor scrupled not to add
injustice to his imprudence.  Without the form  of a trial, he
stripped many of the richest citizens of their fortunes, on pretence
of their having been improperly acquired under Nero.
The army in Germany were the first to evince a spirit of disaffection and tnutiny, and openly expressed their desire of electing' another emperor.  Galba began to feel his own weakness,
and to be sensible that his favorite passion had impelled him into
a wrong course. He wished to find a support in the abilities and
talents of the young Piso, who was distinguished both by his illustrious birth and by his eminent virtues.  He adopted him, therefore, as his son, and destined him to be% his successor in the empire;
but, unfortunately for the public welfare, this measure came too
late.  Otho, the husband of Poppea, and the rival of Piso, was
of a character as decidedly infamous as the other was truly respectable.  He was jealous of the destined honors of Piso, and determined to risk every thing to destroy him.  He was immersed in debt,
and had no means of escaping ruin but by some desperate attempt.
It was to him a matter of indifference, he used to declare, how he
died-whether by the sword of the enemy or the hand of the
executioner.  With this genius, and in such a disposition of mind,
it was not surprising that he should harbor schemes of the highest
and most daring import.  He flattered his partisans by telling them
that certain wise astrologdrs had given him  a promise of the empire; and, as the securest engine of policy, he was lavish of his
promises to the soldiers.  He prevailed upon some of the boldest
of the guards to take the active part in accomplishing his designs.
On a day appointed, they carried him  to the praetorian camp,
where he was proclaimed emperor.  Galba and Piso were both
murdered in attempting to quell the tumult, and their heads were
presented to Otho, who, it is said, gave early demonstrations of
his sanguinary disposition by the exultation with which he received
them.  Galba had only reigned for the short space of seven
months.
Otho, although he had found it an easy matter to induce the
senate to confirm the election of the soldiers, was not without a
competitor for the empire.  Before the murder of Galba, Vitellius,
who commanded in Germany, had been proclaimed emperor by
his troops.  He had arrived at authority by the same means as
Otho, with a character, if possible, yet more deeply infamous.
He, possessed himself, no military talents; but this want was supplied by the abilities of his generals, Ceeina and Valens.  The
art of war, during the long peace which had continued, with little
VOL I.                   62




490                    UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              BOOK V
intermission, since the accession of Augustus, was now, in some
measure, lost in Italy.  The praetorian guards were lazy, licentious,
ignorant of their duty, and completely debauched by the successive donatives of the emperors.  It was no wonder that the apprehension of' a civil war should have struck terror into the breasts of
all who deserved the name of Roman citizens.  They  had no
heroes to look to for their commanders-no troops animated, a~
formerly, by the love of glory and of their country.  There
existed, however, many degraded and desperate men, who were
pleased with this prospect, in the hopes of profiting by the public
ruin' whilst those cowardly minds, which composed the bulk of
the citizens, were depressed with fear, or sunk in indolence and
despondency.
Vitellius was at first unsuccessful in his pretensions to the empire.  Cwecina and Valens did not act in concert; and Otho, had
he possessed one spark of Roman spirit, would have found it easy
to crush his rival in the beginning.  He was resolved, at length,
to hazard a decisive battle, but he bad not courage to head the
troops in person.  His army was defeated at Bedriacum, between
Mantua and Cremona, where above forty thousand men fell on
each side.  Otho might still have retrieved matters.  Since his
accession he had ingratiated himself with the soldiers, who earnestly urged him  to continue the war.  He had even gained, by
an appearance of moderation, some affection from the people; and
with these supports he might yet, by one vigorous effort, have
foiled his ambitious rival.  But despair had taken possession of
him: his resolution was fixed, and no persuasion could alter it.
For this resolution he assigned those generous motives of prevent
ing the efifusion of blood, and preserving the lives of his subjects
for which, unfortunately, the tenor of his former life will hardly
permit us to give him  credit.  It, must be owned, however,
that his death was heroical.  He gave his last orders with the
utmost composure, provided as well as he could for the safety of
his friends, whom he entreated to make a timely submission to the
conqueror; like Cato, went to resqt, slept with tranquillity, and,
on awakening, fell upon his own sword.  He had reigned for three
months with considerable moderation, but the knownl vices of his
charactr gave too much reason to believe that this short period
of good administration would have been like the deceitful prelude
of Nero.
Rome was now in the hands of a brutal tyrant, who affected no
disguise to conceal his natural disposition.  Vitellius was abandoned to every species of vicious debauchery.  It is sufficient to
paint his character to say, that he expressed a most devoted regard
for the memory of JVero.  Fortunately, this reign was not of long
continuance.
Vespasian,  a man of obscure family, but possessed of strong
native talents, had raised himself by servile offices under Caligula




A. D. 69.]1               VESPASIAN.                         491
and Claudius, and had at length arrived at the consulship.  Under
Nero he had obtained the command of the army in the wai against
the Jews, and had conducted it with equal courage and ability.
The legions he commanded in the East taking offence, very
naturally, when they nerceived their fellow-soldiers disposing Of
the empire at pleasure, and enjoying in ease all the fruits of this
exercise of power, thought it time for themselves, in their turn, to
choose an emperor. Vespasian was persuaded by Mucianus, the
governor of Svria, to offer himself a candidate, on the usual terms
of a large donate,-~.  Tne soldiers proclaimed him, and he was
immediately acknowledgd over a1,I the East.  A great part of
Italy submitted to h.s.,enera.s; and Vitellius, within a few months
of his succession, saw himse\f reduced to the alternative of resigning the empire, or of dvitg like his predecessor.  He chose the
former, and immediately conc.udi d a shameful treaty with Sabinus, the brother of Vespasian, then prefect of Rome, by which he
saved his life; obtaining, in return for his resignation of the empire,
the liberty of retiring  to Campania, with a considerable yearly
pension.  This treaty ine dastardly emperor read himself to the
people, crying all the wnile like a child.  He then submissively
prepared to strip himself of all the ensigns of authority.  The
spirit of the citizens was roused at this self-degradation.  They
compelled him  to return to his, palace, and attacked the party of
Sabinus, who retired to the Capitol.  They burnt down the ternple of Jupiter, seized Sabinus, and put him to death at the feet of
Vitellius.  In the meanwhile Priscus, one of the generals of Vespasian, arriving with his army at the very time when the whole
city was employed in the celebration of the Saturnalia, took immediate possession, without any opposition.  Neither the consideration of glory nor of safety were sufficient to call off the minds of
this miserable and degraded people from their favorite amusements.
Vitellius was found concealed in the cnamber of a slave.  He was
brought into the forum  with a-rope about hi- neck, loaded with
reproaches, and ignominiously put to death, in the eighth montn
of his reign.
Vespasian was among tnose few  princes whose character has
changed for the better on their arrival at empire.  Augustus, from
a vicious and cruel man, oecame, if not a virtuous, in many
respects an admirable prince.  Vespasian had ingratiated himself
by the most servile flattery with Caligula and Claudius, and raised
himself oy degrees from the meanest station to rank and distinction.  His characters, oefore he came to the empire, was at the
best an equivocal one; but no sooner did he mount the throne,
than all these suspicions were at once shown to be unfounded.
He gave a general pardon to all who had been found in arms
against him.  He allowed every citizen, provided he spoke only
of his own grievances, to lhave free access to his person, but declared war against that vile race of pensioned informers, which




492                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [
had multiplied so exceedingly during the preceding reigns.
manners were simple, but his administration evinced both vi
and discernment.  It was his custom  every summer, when he
could procure a respite from the busy scenes of the state, to retire
to a small country house he had at Reti, where his mother lived,
where he had been himself born, and which he took a pleasure to
preserve in the same humble appearance in which he had known it
in the days of his infancy.  Under this reign, the senate, had any
ancient.virtue remained in that body or in Rome, might have
recovered its former lustre.  Vespasian communicated all affairs
to that body.  He also, in conjunction with his son Titus, applied
himself to complete the number of the senators, as well as that ot
the Roman knights, which body had been diminished, and almost
exterminated, by the tyranny of his predecessors.
The avarice of Vespasian is the only vice which sullie.s his imperial character.  He renewed many of the most odious of the
taxes of Galba, and added some others equally grievous; and yet
the low state of the public funds, and the laudable purposes to
which he uniformly applied the public money, may perhaps form
some apology for this single vice. Under this reign was terminated the war with the Jews.  They had been brought under the
Roman yoke by Pompey, who had taken  Jerusalem; under
Augustus they were for some time governed by Herod as viceroy,
but the tyranny of his son Archelaus provoked Augustus to banish
him, and' to reduce Judaea into the ordinary state of a Roman
province.  The stubborn character of that people was ill fitted for
obedience to governors whose religion they held in abhorrence.
They were continually rebelling on the slightest occasion.  Nero
had sent Vespasian to reduce them  into order, and he had completed the subjugation of the whole country except the capital,
when he was summoned to the cares of empire.   He left the
charge of the war to his son Titus, who concluded it by the taking
of Jerusalem.  That ill-fated city, whose ruin,-doomed by the
Almighty, and predicted by prbphets,-was accomplished rather
oy the intemperate zeal and inflexible obstinacy of its inhabitants
Fthan by the arms of its enemies, was carried by storm, after evtry
means had been in vain tried by the humane Titus to persuade
the Jews to surrender.  The temple was burnt to ashes, and the
city buried in ruins.
Vespasian now shut the temple of Janus, and associated his son
Titus with himself in power.  He conferred upon him the command of the pratorian guards, and employed him as his counsellor
and first minister.  At the age of sixty-nine he began to feel the
approaches of his decay, and falling sick, retired to his little country-seat at Reti,' where, although sensible that his death was near,
he continued still to occupy himself uninterruptedly with the cares
of government.  An emperor, he said, ought to die standing, and
thus in truth died Vespasian, after a prosperous and able reign of
nine years and eleven months.




A. D. 80.1         TITUS-HERCULANEUM, ECT.                   493
His son Titus had early evinced the most favorable dispositions.
The abilities of his mind were equal to his personal accomplishments, and the qualities of his heart were inferior to neither.  He
seemed born to form the happiness of his people.  He possessed
heroism - sufficient to have. revived the ancient splendor of the
Romans, and that tempered  with  a humanity and moderation
which are but too rarely its attendants.  Such was certainly his
genuine character; for those who mention a few follies of his youth,
as the indications of a vicious disposition, should remember what
were the manners of the courts of Claudius and Nero in which he
received his education.  The intemperate follies of youth were
soon abandoned for the care of his people, whose happiness became,
from the moment of accession, his only study. He removed friom
all employments such as were of a dubious or dishonorable character.  He continued in office every man of virtue whom his father
had employed.  Yet, with the strictness of moral feeling where it
might conduce to the welfare of, his people, his temper was far
from being rigid.  He knew the taste of the nation for their favorite amusements, and the amphitheatre which he built was of magnificence suitable to the grandeur of the empire.
In the first year of the reign of Titus, happened that most
remarkable eruption of Mount Vesuvius which overwhelmed the
cities of Herculaneum  and Pompeii, and in which the elder Pliny
lost his life, from an earnest curiosity to be a near witness of that
striking spectacle.  He had determined to embellish his Natural
History with a description of that most interesting phenomenon,
and for this purpose rushed eagerly into that situation of danger
from which others-were as eagerly attempting to escape.  He was
there suffocated by a cloud of sulphureous vapor.  His nephew,.he younger Pliny, has given a vivid description of this remarkable
scene, in a letter to Tacitus the historian, (lib. vi. epist. 16.)  Of
the character of his uncle, he says, with justice, " Equidem beatos
puto quibus deorumn  munere datum  est aut facere scribenda, hut
scribere legenda.  Beatissimos vero quibus utrumque; borumn'n
numero avunculus meus." * The desolation of Camnpania, occasioned by this terrible eruption of Vesuvius, was remedied to tile
utmost by the beneficence of Titus, who set apart large funds for
the relief of the suffeners.  In order to judge of their losses, he
went himself to Campania, and by a kind of fatality, whilst absent
on this benevolent expedition, a fire, which broke out in the city,
desolated a great part of Rome.  The losses OCCCascred to his
subjects, by these reiterated calamities, he repaired at his own
charges, not from the public money, which is generally the treasury
* "I esteem those the truly happy of mankind to whom the gods have
allotted either to do things worthy of being written, or to write things worthy
of being read. The happiest are they who have done both; and among those
was mny relative."




494:                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY                 [BOOK V
of the prince's bounties, but from the sale of the superfluous
ornaments and riches of his palaces.  Thus this virtuous prince
occupied himself by every means which generosity or benevolence
could dictate in diffusing happiness amongst all classes of his subjects, when, to their unspeakable regret, he was cut off in the third
year of his reign.  He died at the age of forty, leaving behind hin
that most merited and exalted epithet, Delicice humani generis;the delight of the human race.
Titus was suspected to have been poisoned by his brother
Domitian, a character in every respect the reverse of his.  The
monster,- for such his life declared him,-contrived, like some of
his unworthy predecessors, for a while to conceal his vices.  He
afeicted to show a moderation and a love of justice, which gave
promise of a happy reign; but his natural disposition soon unveiled
itself'. An insurrection, which happened at that time in Germany,
gave him  an opportunity of satiating himself with blood.  The
rebellion itself was speedily quelled, but its consequences were
long deplored in the innumerable murders of the most respected
among the citizens, for which the bare suspicion of having been
concerned in the rebellion afforded always a sufficient pretext.
Informers, that despicable brood, the scourge of men of worth,
began again to swarm throughout the country; slaves were bribed
to give evidence against their masters; pretenders to astrology
were appointed to draw the horoscopes of the principal citizens,
the emperor ordering those to be put to death to whom  fortune
promised any thing great or successful.
Could the people have slept in quiet under the constant dread
of a sentence of death, they might have been abundantly gratified
in their darling amusements of games and shows.  In these the
new emperor squandered prodigious sums; but the expenses were
in truth furnished by the unhappy citizens, whom  he loaded witn
the most exorbitant taxes.  It was the lot of Domitian, as of
other tyrants, to be haunted by the continual dread of assassination.
Fortunately for the world, his fears were at last realized; a conspiracy was formed in the heart of his palace, the empress, as is
said, conducting the plot, and he was assassinated after a cruel
andl inglorious reign of fifteen years.  Under this reign flourished
Martial the cpigramist, from  whose venal praises if we were to
judge of the character of Domitian, we should believe him one of
the best and greatest princes.
In the time of Domitian the empire was engaged in a variety
of wars; the only one of these which ended honorably for ti
Romans was that carried on in Britain.  A detail of its operations
belongs more properly to the sketch which we shall have to give
of the earliest periods of the history of our own country.  The
conspirators who had put to death Doinitian raised Cocceius Nerva
to the throne.  He was born at Narnl, in Umbria, of a Cretan
family, and was the first emperor who was not a Roman.  He




A. D. 96.]            DOMITIAN —NERVA.                     495
was, when elected, approaching to the age of seventy-a man,
certainly, of worth and virtue, but too weak for the burden of
gov-enment.  His pliant disposition permitted all excesses.  Undier Domitian every thing was construed into a crime; under the
reign of Nerva nothing.  The troops who were fond of Domitian's
memory, because he had been lavish of his bounties, demanded
that his murderers should be punished.  Nerva had not tile reso
lution to refuse, and they put to death, under his eVes, those very
persons who had given him  the empire.  Conscious of his own
-weakness, he, in order to secure himself upon the throne, adopted
the virtuous Trajan, who was then carrying on war in Pannonia,
and had never entertained any views of such exaltation.  The
empire was governed for some months by Trajan, till the death of
Nerva, which happened soon after.  He had reigned only sixteen
months.
Trajan was in every respect worthy of the throne, for he possessed all those peculiar talents and those higher virtues which
ought to adorn a sovereign.  He was born of a respectable though
not an ancient family:-his father had been consul.  He perfectly
understood the art of war, and he soon re-established, upon his
succeeding: to the empire, the ancient military discipline, which,
of late, had been nearly forgotten.  He marched always on foot,
at the head of his troops; underwent every fatigue in common
with then; and shared the same simple fare.  Under such a gen-,eral, it is no wonder, the Roman arms should have regained their
ancient splendor.  His first war was against the Dacians, to whom
Domitian had pusillanimously subjected the empire to pay an annual tribute.  Trajan shook off this shameful imposition, and in a
few campaigns entirely subdued that warlike nation.  A  lasting
monument of his victories in the Dacian war still remains in' that
magnificent column at Rome which bears the name of Trajan, and
which is decorated with his exploits in beautiful sculpture.
Chosroes, king of the Parthians, had disposed of the crown of
Armenia.  Trajan, considering this as an invasion of the rights of
the Roman empire, marched against him, subdued his whole territories, took his capital of Ctesiphon, and brought under submission Mesopotamia, Syria, an4 Arabia Felix.  This love of co,quest he, however, carried too far; and it was the more blamable
In a prince who had every requisite for rendering his people happy
under the blessings of peace.  It is said that he regretted he was
not so young as- Alexander, that he might have vied with him in
the extent of his conquests.  He should have rather remembered,
that the empire was already too large, and felt the difficulty of defending its extensive frontier.  Yet, influenced as he was by this
ruling passion, his attention to the cares of government, and his
management of all matters connected with the state, were truly
admirable. - It was customary for the emperor to be named consul the year following his accession. Trajan refused it, as he was




496                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY,               [BOOK V.
then at a distance in the provinces.  On his return, he went
through all the fornls of the ancient procedure for the election of
magistrates, with the utmost scrupulousness.  These had long
been discontinued by his predecessors. Hecalled the comitia, presented himself as a candidate, and at his election, besides the customary oaths, he invoked the powers of heaven to strengthen him
in the performance of his duty.
He was liberal in his donations to the people, but they were not,
like those of other emperors, the mean bribes of a despot; they
twere the largesses of a beneficent prince, for the support of the
wretched and indigent.  The children of the poor were educated
at his expense, and it was'computed that two millions of destitute
persons were maintained from his private purse.  These charges
were supplied by a well-ordered economy in his own fortune, and
a regular administration of the public finances.  He lived himself
always with ancient simplicity, and he enriched the state by a
careful attention to the minutest articles of public expenditure.
Under this excellent mode of government every thing enjoyed its
due consideration.  The literary ornaments of the court of Trajan
werte Pliny the younger, the poet Juvenal, and those excellent
writers, Tacitus and Plutarch.  Their talents and genius were encouraged and liberally rewarded, whilst the fine arts also were assiduously cultivated, and flourished under that generous spirit of
independence which prevailed throughout every branch of the
state. Trajan himself, amidst the duties of sovereignty, enjoyed
the greatest happiness which could belong to a private station.
He walked through the streets of Rome, without guard or attendant, as a private individual, more secure in the love and affection
of his subjects, than in the strength of an imperial retinue.  He
lived with his friends on terms of the most familiar intercourse;
he shared in all their amusements; and there was between them
an interchange of every kind and affectionate duty.  Such was
the virtuous and venerable Trajan, whose character so justly merited the surname universally given him, Trcjanztis Optimus. He
died at the age of sixty-three, after a reign of nineteen years, a
period during which Rome may be said to have been truly happy.
IElius Adrianus, on the pretence of having been adopted by
Trajan in his last moments, took advantage of his command of the
army then at Antioch, and prevailed with them to proclaim him
emperor.  Trajan had been his tutor, and had given him his grandniece in marriage.  These circumstances gave a colorable title to
his pretence of adoption, and the senate, therefore, did not think
proper to dispute his right.  It was the first measure of his reign
to abandon all the conquests of Trajan.  He restored to the Parthians the election of an independent sovereign; established Chosroes in his dominions; withdrew  the Roman garrisons from  the
provinces of Armenia, Mesopotarnia, and Assyria; and, in compliance with the Precept of Augustus, once more confined the




&t Io i358o]       aDE RAN.-ANTONINUS Plus.                 497
Eastern empire within the bounds of the Euphrates.  For this
conduct various motives have been assigned.  It has been ascribed
co envy (f the glory of his predecessor; but Gibbon justly observes, that he could scarcely place the superiority of Trajan in a
more conspicuous lght, than by thus confessing himself unequal
even to retain what the former had subdued.  Indolence, and an
aversion to war, have been brought forward as his motives, but
Adrian was, in fact, an excellent soldier, equally fearless of danger or of fatigue.  It is certainly more natural and reasonable to
ascribe to policy and prudence, a measure which eventually was
conducive to the happiness and security of the state.  The Parhthians, he well knew, could not, from the natural strength of their
country, be long kept under the yoke.  Adrian foresaw in Parthia
the future cradle of numerous and destructive wars, and he preferred the peace and security of the empire to this destructive
prospect.
On his return to Rome, his conduct was such as to ingratiate
him with every rank of the citizens.  He remitted all the debts
due to the. treasury for the last sixteen years, by burning the
records and obligations.  He bestowed liberal presents upon those
amongst the ancient families who had fallen into indigence, and appo nted new funds for the maintenance and education of the children
of the poor.  He then undertook a progress through all the provinces of the empire, repressing abuses, and studiously relieving the
people wherever he found the taxes too heavy or exorbitant.  He
rebuilt many cities which had been destroyed or had fallen into ruin
Amongst the rest he rebuilt Jerusalem, which he named Elia'Capitolina.  In these progresses through his dominions, so carefrl was he in avoiding every thing which might distress the provinces, that he used no equipage or show, but travelled on foot
and lived with the frugality of a common soldier. This exemplary conduct made him  beloved and respected by his subjects,
as much as he was formidable to the enemies of the empire from
his courage and resolution.  His popularity became so great, that
he stood rinot in need of the ensigns of power and authority.  The
guards, and the fasces, he deemed superfluous to him who made
it his study to reign, not over the persons, but over the hearts of
his subjects.  Although, certainly, a few instances of severity had
clouded the commencement of his reign, yet these were dictated
by necessity whilst his authority was insecure.  No sooner was he
firmly seated on the throne, than his clemency and bounty were
extended to all ranks of his subjects.  To the talents of an experienced captain and a skilful politician, Adrian joined an excellent taste in the liberal arts, and a strong disposition towards the
advancement of science and political literature.  He was an admirer of poetry, music, and painting, and was himself a proficient
in those arts.  He seemed endowed with a universal genius, not
only being eminent for those nobler.qualities which ans'~itute the
voL. I.              63




498                   -UNIVERSAL HISTORY.                [BOOKS  V
higher virtues of an emperor, but for those inferior, but not less
attractive, graces which accompany an accomiiplished and cultivated
mind.  Envy has certainly stained the memory of this great prince
with some immoralities; but, as for the truth of these there appears no foundation, it is becoming in the historian rather to bury
them  in oblivion, than to transmit even the suspicion of them  to
posterity. On the whole, the reign of Adrian was to the Roman
people a period of unusual splendor, attended with what it seldom
brings along with it,-uncommon public happiness.
In the twenty-second and last year of his reign, he adopted and
declared for his successor Titus Aurelius Antoninus, a man of ex.
emplary character and exalted merit.  But not satisfied with this
immediate instance of regard for posterity, he declared Aurelius
his successor, on condition that he should, in his turn, adopt Annius Verus, a young man every way worthy of the throne, and to
whom it should descend on his decease.  These two were the Antonines, who for forty years governed the Roman empire with consummate wisdom, ability, and rectitude.  Soon after having made
this valuable bequest to his country, Adrian fell into a lingering
and mortal disease.  It was under the pressure of this disease, and
in full conviction of his approaching dissolution, that he wrote
those beautiful and well-known lines addressed to his soul, which
bear so strongly the mark of a tranquil and philosophic mind convinced of its immortality, but anxious for its unknown destimntion.
Animula vagula, blandula,
Hospes, comesque corporis,
Quma nuno abibis in loca;
Pallidula, frigida, nudula —
Nec ut soles dabis joca? "
We have now arrived at the age of the Antonines, the ihor'
remaining period of the union and prosperity of the Roman Em.tire.
- Pope's translation of these lines is in everybody's hands.




A. I3 E9 ]           AGE OP THE ANTONINEI                      499
CHIAPTER II.
Age of the Antonines-Commodius-Pertinax-The PrEtorian Guards se1 the
Empire by auction —Four Emperors proclaimed-Severus marches to Rome
*and disbands the Preetorian Guards-War in Britain-Severus dies at York
-Caracalla —-Disorders in the Empire continue till the Reign of Diocletian —
Constantine-His zeal for Christianity.
THE reign of Antoniinus Pius offers but few remarkable events to
the pen of the historian, as, indeed, generally do such reigns as
are the most happy.  His character was that of the true philosopher, and the father of his people.  He was likewise an excellent
politician, and his attention to the cares of the state was indefatigable. Amongst others of his wise regulations may be reckoned
that law  which prohibited any person, once acquitted, to be tried
again for the same crime.  G'enerous to others, and himself perfectly disinterested, he bestowed his whole private fortune in -repairing the losses and alleviating the calamities of the wretched.
As he was secure of his authority, which was firmly seated in the
aftections of his people, he had no. mean jealousy of the power
of his ministers and magistrates; he raised the dignity and character of the senate, by regulating his own conduct according to its
directions in the administration of all public affairs. The love and,
esteem  of his subjects were only equalled by the respect entertained for his character by foreign nations. He was made the umpire of the differences of contending states, and received the voluntary homage of princes over whom  he had no other authority
than what the admiration of his wisdom  and eminent virtues be:
stowed.  This excellent prince, the idol of his subjects, died in
the seventy-fourth year of his age, after a happy and prosperous
reign of twenty-two-years.  He had, in the beginning of his reign,
given his daughter Faustina, together with the title of Caesar, to
his successor, who had been pointed out by Adrian, Annius Verus,
a man in'every respect worthy to fill his place.
Annius was of an ancient and honorable family.  On his accession to the einpire, he changed this name for that of Marcus Au
relius Antoninus, and he bestowed that of Verus upon Lucius
Commodus, his brother by adoption.  The  Stoical philosophy
was, at this time, in Rome, the most prevalent of all the sects
It gained credit with men of worth and probity from its opposition
to the licentious manners of the times.  Marcus Aurelius was by




500                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [rcook V
nature attached to this philosophy, still more than b. education.
His morals were pure, his manners simple, and his virtues the result of his natural disposition. His JIeditations, which are still
extant, and which were composed amidst the tumult of a military
life, abound with the most exalted and beautiful sentiments of piety
and morality.
Antoninus had preferrTed M. Aurelius to Lucius Verus, with
whose vicious disposition he was well acquainted. Yet the generosity of Marcus made him hasten to admit this unworthy brother
to a share in the empire-an action which can admit of no justification.  Rome had now, in fact, two emperors; and those who
loved their country prayed as earnestly for the life of Marcus Aurelius as they did that Verus might not survive him.  The Parthians, judging the death of Antoninus Pius a favorable opportunity
to attack the empire, entered Armenia, and there cut to pieces
the Roman army.  They proceeded thence to ravage Syria, and
an inroad was made at the same time by the Catti into Germany.
Marcus Aurelius sent L. Verus against the Parthians, but that debauched and abandoned youth trusted to his generals the whole
conduct of the expedition, whilst he himself spent his time between Antioch and Laodicea in the lowest excesses.  His generals, however, were victorious, and he, proud of the laurels he had
not won, returned at the head of. his troops into Italy, where he
carried with him a most dreadful pestilence which almost depopulated that country, and continued to rage for many years from
~province to province through the whole empire.
During this calamity many of the German nations took up arms
-the Vandals, DaciaPfs, Quadi, Suevi, and Alemanni.  They
laid waste Pannonia, and thence penetrated into Greece, where
they ravaged even the Peloponnesus.  In this concurrence of
misfortunes, the public finances were exhausted to afford the
requisite succors; and Aurelius, instead of the usual resource of
increasing the taxes, adopted the generous expedient of divesting
himself of his whole fortune to supply the deficiency, and sold for
the public benefit even the furniture of his palaces. It was necessary to take immediate measures for reducing the rebellion in
Germany. The emperor, who had now experienced the disposition of L. Verus, could neither venture to trust him with the corn
mand of the army, nor with the equally important task of governing Rome in his absence.  He therefore, in concert with the
senate, obtained from them a decree, that both the Augusti should
march against the revolted nations. They accordingly set out
together for Aquileia, but Marcus Aurelius was in a few months
happily deprived of his colleague, and the empire of its fears, by
the death of Verus.  Of this German war historians have furnished us with no detail; Marcus Aurelius, we know, finished it
in a few campaigns, and had granted the rebellious nJations favorable terms of peace, when he was recalled to Italy by the revolt




A. ID 13 ]      DEATH OF AURELIUS-COMMODUS.               501
of Avidius Cassius, who, upon a false report of his death, haa
caused himself to be proclaimed emperor.  This insurrection,
however, was speedily terminated by the death of, Cassius, who
was murdered by one of his own officers.
Aurelius now undertook a progress into Asia, wherie some disorders had made his presence necessary. Here he received the
homage of all the eastern nations. He appeared, says an ancient
author of that time, like a benevolent deity, diffusing around him
universal peace and happiness; he was absent from Rome seven
years, and his return was celebrated by the sincerest joy of his
people.
His last military expedition was against the Marcomanni, and
others of the German nations, who had again taken up arms.  He
had proceeded far to the reduction of these obstinate rebels, whom
he must soon have brought under su1jection, when, to the unspeakable grief and icss of the empire, he died in Pannonia, in the
fifty-ninth year of his age, and the nineteenth of his reign.  His
memory was long revered by posterity, and above a century after
his death many persons preserved the image of Marcus Aurelius
among their household gods. From the death of Domitian, which
happened in the 96th year of the Christian era, to that of Marcus
Aurelius Antoninus, which took place in the 180th, a period of
eighty-four years, the Roman empire had enjoyed the greatest
prosperity and happiness.  It was governed by absolute power;
but this power was under the direction of wisdom and virtue.
The armies," savs Gibbon, " were restrained by the firm, yet
gentle hand of five successive emperors, whose characters and
authority commanded involhntary respect.  The forms of the civil
administration were carefully preserved by Trajan, Adrian, and
the Antonines, who delighted in the image of liberty, and were
pleased with considering themselves as the accountable ministers
of the. laws.  Sl'ch princes deserved the honor of restoring the
republic, naa tAe ]in-:3 of their days been capable of enjoying
a rational lreelom.
Commodus was born soon after the elevation of his father Marcus Aurelius to t're thror:.  He inherited none of the virtues of
Aurelitr3, out reseni.e] much his mother Faustina, a princess
second:)nly to Messalina in every species of vice. It was almost
tile on? weakness of M. Aurelius, that he was blind to the infamous character of his wife an'd son.  Hie even conferred honors
and titles on those whom all but himself knew to be the acknow-.edged gallants of Faustina; and by a blamable innovation, he
had caused his son Commodus to be declared Augustus in his
own lifetime. Commodus was in his twentieth year, when, by
the death of. his father, he succeedMd to the throne.'His first
step was to purchase a disgraceful peace with the barbarians in
Germany-impatient to get rid, without the fatigue of fighting, of
the trouble of a war  From  his infancy he had discovered: an




502                   UNIVERSAL HISTGRY               L[B00 V
aversion to whatever was rational or liberal, and an excessive
attachment to the amusements of the populace, the sports of the
circus and amnphitheatre, the combats of gladiators, and the hunting of wild beasts. It was his highest and only ambition to excel
in -these exercises: he fought as a common gladiator in the circus —
and his favorite epithet was that of the Roman Hercules, which is
still to be seen upon his coins and medals.  His whole conduct
was equally odious and contemptible, and the public measures of
his reign consist of nothing but the detection of some conspiracies
which the hatred- of his subjects and -his own cruelty and inhumanity could not fail to excite.  One conspiracy, at length,
delivered the empire of its tyrant.  His concubine Marcia, his
chamberlain, and the commander of his guard, had ventured to
remonstrate with him on the indecency of an emperor displaying
himself as a combatant in t1e public games. This was an offence
which could not be forgiven, and he accordingly determined their
immediate destruction.  Marcia found the list of his intended
victims written in his own hand.  She made haste to anticipate
his purpose, and caused this worthless and inglorious wretch to be
strangled, in the thirty-second year of his age and the thirteenth
of his reign.
Latus, captain of the praetorian guards, who had conducted the
conspiracy which rid the world of Commodus, bestowed the empire on Publius Helvetius Pertinax, a man of obscure extraction,
but who, by his virtues and military talents, had raised himself to
rank and esteem. The soldiers were promised a large donative,
and the people, who respected the character of Pertinax, recognised him for their sovereign with the utmost demonstrations of
joy. He applied himself immediately to the reformation of the
abuses introduced by his predecessor, but his zeal for this reformation transported him beyond the bounds of prudence.  The
praTtoriarl guards, debauched and effeminate in their morals and constitution, bore with great impatience the severity of that discipline
to which they were now subjected, and regretted the happy licentiousness of the former reign.  Latus, the prefect, who expected
that his services would entitle him  to rule as a favorite minister,
was disappointed by the austerity of the government of Pertinaxo
These discontents soon increased to such a degree as to become
insurmountable; and the too virtuous Pertinax, after a reign of
only eighty-six days, was openly murdered in the palace by the
same hands which had placed him on the throne.
A transaction followed which was shameful beyond example:
Sulpicianus, the father-in-law of Pertinax, demanded the empire
from the praetorians, who replied to him, that he should have his
chance for it at a fair auction, as they had resolved to bestow it on
the highest bidder.  Didius Julianus, a wealthy senator, was at
table:when this intelligence was brought him. His wife, and the
parasites who surrounded him, persuaded him he should embrace




A. D. 193.]     DEATH OF COMMODUS —PERTINAX.              503
this opportunity of ascending a throne, which his virtues had long
merited.  He repaired instantly to the pratorlan camp, and bidding
at once a considerable sum beyond the offer of Sulpicianus, he was
immediately proclaimed emperor.  The obsequious senate made
no scruple to confirm this election.  He took his way to the palace,
where, it is said, the first object that struck his eyes was the headless trunk of Pertinax, and the frugal entertainment which had
been prepared for his supper. He viewed both with equal indifference, for hie foresaw not what awaited him.
The people, not yet lost to every sense of their own importance,
considered this measure as the last and severest insult on the Roman name.  They gave free vent to their opinions; they openly
execrated Didius as a usurper, and invited the legions in the provinces to assert the injured dignity of the empire.  Amongst the
generals who commanded these distant legions was Porsennius
Niger.  He was at that time in the government of Syria, when he
received the request of the people to avenge the murder of Pertinax.  The people of Asia solicited him to assume the purple himself,
and he was easily prevailed upon:  But at the same time that he
was proclaimed in Asia, Decimus Clodius Albinus was proclaimed
by the troops in Britain, and Septimus Severus in Illyria. Albinus,
of known courage but of doubtful moral character, was sprung
from one of the noblest families in Rome.  Severus, an African
by birth, owed his favor with the soldiers in a great measure to
the high regard he had always professed for the character of
Pertinax; but above all, to the promise of a donative superior to
the price at which the wealthy Didius had purchased the empire.
Saluted by his soldiers with the highest acclamations, and hailed
by the title of Augustus, Severus marched directly to Rome.  The
praetorians, on the news of his approach, immediately abandoned
Didius to his fate: and the senate, without ceremony condemned
him to be executed in the imperial palace.  He reigned sixty-six
days.
The almnost incredible expedition of Severus, who conducted
in a few days a numerous army from the banks of the Danube to
those of the Tiber, proves at once, as Mr. Gibbon has remarked,
the uncommon plenty produced at this time by the agriculture
and commerce of the empire, the good state of the roads, the
discipline of the legions, and the indolent, subdued temper of the
provinces.
Severus immediately ordered the corrupted and insolent troops
of the pratorians to assemble unarmed on a large plain without
the:city.  They obeyed in terror for their fate.  He caused them
to be surrounded with the Illyrian legions, and then sharply reproaching them with the murder of Pertinax, and the disgraceful
sale of the empire, (which he and his troops had, however, so
accurately imitated,) he dismissed them with ignominy from their
trust, and banished the whole of them, on pain of death, to the dis.




504                  UNIVERSAL HISTORYX              [BGOO v
tance of one hundred miles from Rome.  He theno created a new
guard, which he composed of soldiers of all different countries.
Matters in the meantime wore an unfavorable aspect in the
extremities of the empire.  Both the east and west were in arms
against Severus.  Finding himself unable at the same time to
march against both, he endeavored to secure the friendship of
Albinus, by appointing him his successor in the empire, with the
title of Caesar; and having thus conciliated this powerful rival, he
instantly marched against Niger in Asia.  The armies soon met;
and by the successful issue of three battles, in one of which Niger
lost his life, he found himself without a rival, and master of the
empire.  His victories were succeeded by a conduct little short
of that of a Marius or an Octavius.  His proscription almost exterminated the army of Niger; and the miserable remnant which
escaped were driven to seek shelter amongst the Parthians, to
whom they taught the use of the Roman armns.
Severus was now no longer under the necessity of keeping termns
with Albinus.  lHe deprived lim accordingi of the title of Caesar,
evincing clearly that it had been from necessity, not choice, he
had ever bestowed it.  Provoked at this usage, OAlbinus assumed
a more illustrious denomination, caused himself to be proclaimed
emperor, and marched for Italy.  Fortune still attended the arms
of Severus; -bhe defeated; Albinus in a decisive battle near Lyons;
and this general, anticipating the fate which awaited him, preferred
dying by his own hand. The temper of Severus, naturally cruel,
found many victims in those who had favored the parties of his
rival competitors.  He examined the papers of Albinus, and thence
found pretext for sacrificing forty of the senators.  He seemed to
take pleasure in degrading that order, and his intention seemed
to be to extinguish every trace of the ancient republican administration, and erect the perfect fabric of an absolute monarchy.  It
became, therefore, his object to gain the affection of the soldiers,
whom he attached to himself by every favror which he could bestow. Nor was his policy less conspicuous in the employment of
men of talents, who in their writings and discourses instilled into
the minds of the people the doctrines of passive obedience, and
duty of absolute submission to the will of their master.  Dion
Cassius, the historian, appears to have been commissioned to form
these opinions into a system, and the Pandectae of the Roman law
afford evidence that the advocates and judges cooperated all to the
same end.
Having thus secured his authority by every precaution which
he esteemned necessary, he applied himself, with a policy certainly
both able and praiseworthy, to promote the interests of the empire.  His conduct in the.administration of justice was exemplary.
His laws were wise and judicious, and the fame of the Roman
arms in no period since the republic had risen higher than in the
reign of Severus. He delighted to affirm, and he had reason




A. D. 212.]               CARACALLA.                       505
certainly to glory in it, that having received the empire oppressed
with foreign and domestic wars, he left it in profound, universal,
and honorable peace.  To  the military and political talents of
Severus was added a taste for the fine arts, more especially for
architecture.  The most eminent of the civil lawyers flourished
under his reign-Ulpian, Paulus, and Papinian, who brought the
3system of Roman jurisprudence to its highest perfection.
Severus had two sons, Caracalla and Geta, who distinguished
themselves in  their infancy by a fixed and implacable hatred
against each other. This unhappy and unnatural discord clouded
the latter days of Severus.  With a view of obviating the evil
effects which the flattery of a court produced on their minds, the
emperor, seized the occasion of the war in Britain to carry them along
with him, after associating them- both with himself in the empire.
Severus was at this time sixty years of age, and enfeebled with
disease. The Caledonians, utder the command of Fingal, invaded
the Roman frontier, and defeated, on the banks of the river Carron,
Caracalla, whom  Ossian names the son of the king of the world.
During the course of this war in Britain, it is shocking to relate
that the abandoned Caracalla more than once attempted the life
of his father, who, at length, broken by disease, died at York, in
the 211th year of the Christian era.  Caracalla and Geta agreed
to divide the empire, the former retaining the western part, and
the latter, Asia and the eastern provinces.  The mutual hatred of
these two brothers was now fomented by their association in the
government.  Caracalla, at length worn out by the struggle, and
unable to bear longer with his rival, caused liim  to be openly
assassinated in the arms of his mother Julia, and had the address
to persuade the people that he was compelled to this atrocious
deed by motives of self-preservation. On this subject _EZlius
Spartianus has transmitted a fact, which strongly marks the deeneracy of the Roman character, and that abject servility with
hich the highest ranks of the state submitted to the yoke of
tyranny.
Caracalla, after the death of his brother Geta, thought it neces
sary to apologize to the senate for a deed so dark and unnatural.
He ordered a body of his guards to enter the senate-house, and two
armed soldiers to post themselves at the side of every senator.
Then gravely walking up to the consul's chair, he pronounced a
studied harangue, setting forth the imperious necessity of the action, and urging that his concern for the interests of the state had,
in this single instance, overcome his fraternal affection and the
humanity of his nature. It may be believed that the Conscript
Fathers were in no disposition to dispute the force of his arguments. Caracalla was now proclaimed sole emperor, and one
of the first acts of his administration was to put to death the cele
brated lawyer'Papinian, who had refused to justify his conduct to
the people.  His reign, which was nothing but one continued scene
voL. I.                64




506                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK V
of most complicated cruelties, was at last terminated by the assassination of the tyrant, in the sixth year of his government.
Those disorders in the empire which, as we have seen, began
with the reign of Commrnodus, continued for about a century, till
the accession of Diocletian.  That interval was filled up by the
reigns of Heliogabalus,. Alexander Severus, Maximin, Gordian,
Decius Gallus, Valerianus, Gallienus, Claudius, Aurelian, Tacitus,
Probus, and Carus.  The history of those reigns has been bril-.
liantly given by Mr.  Gibbon: and pleasure and profit must ever
accompany the productions of that alie, though sometimes dangerous, pen; but our plan confines us necessarily to such general
views as furnish useful lessons of the knowledge of mankind, and,
excluding all minuteness of detail, looks only to those circumstances which may tend to illustrate the great doctrines of politics or
of morality.  In that catalogue of names which we enumerated,
Valerian, a prince of considerable virtues, but enfeebled by age
before he attained the empire, was? the first of the Roman emperors who perished in captivity.  In an unsuccessful expedition
against Sapor, king of Persia, he was taken prisoner, treated, as it
said, with every circumstance of indignity, and languished the remainder of his days in misery.  During the reign of his son Gal,
lienus, there were actually nineteen pretenders to the sovereignty
of different parts of the Roman empire.  One of these, a native
of Palmyra, Odenathus, by an effectual opposition to the progress
of Sapor in Syria, was the preserver of that valuable province.
Gallienus, sensible of his merits, conferred on him  the title oM
Augustus; and Odenathus, like an independent sovereign, bequeathed at his death his crown to his widow Zenobia. Claudius,
the successor of Gallienus, occupied in his wars against the Ger
man nations, allowed Zenobia to reign in peace over several of
the Asiatic provinces, to which she added, by conquest, the kingdom  ot Egypt.  For five years she maintained a splendid and
politic dominion. But Aurelian, the successor of Claudius, after
the reduction of the Germans, and the recovery of Gaul, Sprin,
and Britain, out of the hands of Tetricus, a bold usurper, turned
the arms of the empire against this heroic queen of the East.
She defended her dominions with a manly spirit, and maintained a
siege in her capital of Palmyra, which for a while baffled the utmost efforts of the Roman arms.  The city, however, at length
surrendered, and Zenobia, attempting to escape by flight upon the
back of a dromedary, was taken and conveyed a prisoner to Aurelian.  He brought the captive princess to Rome, where she,
together with Tetricus, graced the triumph of Aurelian; he queen
bound in fetters of gold.  The emperor assigned her an elegant
villa, near' Rome, for her residence. The Syrian queen gradually
sunk into a Roman matron; her daughters married into Roman
families; and her race was not yet extinct in the fifth century.
The succeeding reigns of Tacitus, Probus, and Carus, occupy




A,. D. 305.1      DIOCLETIAN AND MAXIMIIAN.                507
a space of nine years, in the first seven of which-the reigns of
Tacitus and Probus-the Roman empire was seen in a state both
of splendor and of happiness. To Carus succeeded Diocletian,
who began his reign in the 284th year'of the Christian era, and who
soon evinced himself a prince of the greatest talents in every respect,
but more especially as a politician.  He may be considered, like
Augustus, as the founder of a new empire. By birth a Dalmatian,
and of mean extraction, he had yet raised himself, by his merit, to
the supreme command in the army, and, having gained the empire,
he determined to govern it by a new system of administration.
He divided into four different governments the whole of the imperial dominions, and all the departments of authority, civil and military.  There were appointed to these, four different governors,
with equal powers.  Diocletian associated Maximian with himself
as his colleague in the empire, with the title of Augustus; and
bestowed on his two generals, Galerius and Constantius, the titles
of Cesars.
The four princes had each their distinct department: Galerius
was stationed on the Danube to guard the Illyrian provinces;
Cons'tantius had the command of Gaul, Spain, and Britain; Maximian that of Italy and Africa; and Diocletian of Thrace, Egypt,
and the Asiatic provinces. Each was supreme in his own district,
and, what is truly singular, and evinces the talents of Diocletian,
all lived in harmony, and in the most perfect good understanding
with each other.  This plan of dividing the empire was evidently
a bad one in itself, nor could it possibly have been supported but
by the superior and controlling genius of Diocletian.  He allotted,
in appearance, an equality of powers to his colleagues; but, in
fact, the eminence of his own character and the superioiity of his
genius gave him  always a decided preeminence, and the other
princes were little more than his viceroys or lieutenants.  At
times he would make them understand this even with arrogance
and harshness.  Galerius had been defeated by the Persians, on
which occasion Diocletian treated him with the utmost contempt,
making him follow his chariot on foot; nor was he restored to
favor till he had by his successes regained his credit, and with
this an equality of power.
Under the reign of this emperor, all vestiges of the ancient
liberty of the Roman constitution were entirely annihilated. The
sovereign assumed that ensign of royalty most odious to the Romans, the diadem, and introduced at home all the magnificent
ceremonial of the Persian court.  The name of the Senate of
Rome continued to be respected, but this body ceased to have
the smallest weight or influence in affairs of state.  IBy the vigor
of Diocletian's administration, and the active abilities of his'associates in power, the Roman arms regained for a while their ancient
splendor, and general good order pervaded  the  empire.  It was
during this reign, also, that the northern barbarians, who for some




508                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK V
time before had made themrselves known by some partial irruptions, poured down in prodigious swarms upon the extremities of
the empire. The Scythians, Goths, Sarmatians, Alani, and Quadi,
began to make dreadful inroads, and for a while every successive
defeat seemed only to increase their strength and perseverance.
At this period, Diocletian, along with his colleague Maximian,
surprised the world by resigning at once the royal dignity, and,
leaving the government in the hands of the two Caesars, voluntarily
returned to the condition of private citizens.  Diocletian retired
to Salona, the place of his nativity, now Spalatro, in Dalmatia,
where he built a palace superior in extent and magnificence to
any of his predecessors.  In this seclusion from the cares of government he lived for several years, and was wont to say, that he
counted the day of his retreat as the beginning of his life.  Maximian, who had abdicated not from individual choice, but in consequence of a promise exacted on his admission to a share in the
government, retired less willingly to Lucania.  Constantius and
Galerius now jointly governed the Roman empire, but soon after,
Constantius died in Britain, and his son Constantine, succeeding
in the command of the troops, caused himself to be proclaimed
emperor in the city of York.  He immediately acquainted Galerius
of this event, who was by no means heartily disposed to acknowledge his nomination.  On Constantine he conferred, or rather
continued to him, the title of Caesar, whilst he associated with
himself in the empire his favorite Severus.  Meanwhile, Maximian
was prevailed upon by his son Maxentius to abandon his retirement, and to resume the purple.  They engaged, defeated, and
put to death Severus; and Maximian, to unite his interest with
Constantine against Galerius, gave him his daughter in marriage,
by which alliance Constantine acquired a double title to the empire.  Soon after this, Maximian, for what cause is not ascertained,
died by his own hand, and Galerius was carried off by a mortal
disease.  Maxentius and Constantine, therefore, remained upon
the stage to contend for the prize of undivided empire.  It was
at this time that Constantine, being converted to Christianity —
(as is said, by a miraculous vision,)-the true religion, after struggling with every opposition which ignorance, credulity, and per.
secution could have brought against it, ascended at last the imperial throne.  Maxentius, on the other hand, *from  hatred to his
rival, exerted himself in the most violent persecution' of all who
professed that religion.  The Christians were at this time extremely
numerous, both at Rome and in the provinces, and it became,
therefore, an event of the greatest joy to them, that Maxentius
in the first battle was defeated and slain, leaving Constantine undisputed master of the Roman empire.
The first step of his administration was to break up the pretorlan
bands, a measure equally politic for his own safety and agreeable
to the people.  He re-established the senate in its ancient deliber



A. D. 330.]     CONSTANTINE —CONSTANTINOPLE.             609
ative rights; commenced the repair of tome and the other cities
of Italy; and used his utmost endeavor by a firm, though a gentle
and equitable administration, to promote lthe happiness and interest
of his people. Aware of the danger of disgusting the public mind
by any sudden or violent innovation upon those opinions which
onR custom had rendered sacred, he accepted the title of Pontifex
Jli.aximus, and in his first edicts only granted to the Christians the
public exercise of their religion; but his own example daily
increased the number of proselytes, and he soon after began to
establish churches for their worship.  In these first years of his
reign, the civil administration of Constantine was excellent.  Every
approach to oppression in the officers of the revenue met with an
immediate check, and he- abrogated that cruel institution which
inflicted corporal punishment upon those who were debtors to the
state.  His maximn was, that equity ought ever to preponderate
o~er strict law, and ought to determine all cases wherein law is
doubtful.  But amid, these excellent features in the character of
Constantine, it is painful to remark that a disposition to cruelty
appeared, which sullied much of his glory. In an expedition
against the Franks, a northern nation who had begun to make
inroads on the Gaauls, the prisoners taken in war were, with the
men st shocking inhumanity, exposed in the amphitheatre to be
devoured by wild beasts.
One Licinius, a Dacian, had by Galerius been nominated Caesar,
and on the death of Galerius maintained possession of the Asiatic
provinces.  Constantine had not thought it expedient to dispute
his right, while as yet his own was not thoroughly established,
and had even virtually acknowledged it by giving him his sister
in marriage.  Licinius was a persecutor of the Christians, and this
became soon a sufficient ground for Constantine to shake him off.
He accordingly declared war against him as an enemy to God,
and arming a fleet of 200 galleys, and 130,000 rien, he attacked
him in Asia, and gained a complete victory. His rival was made
prisoner, and was promised his life, but this promise was shamefully
and dishonorably broken, and Licinius strangled in prison.
Constantine, now absolute and sole master of the empire, proceeded openly to signalize his zeal for Christianity.  He ordered
the temples to be shut, and prohibited sacrifices, but at the same
time published an edict in the East, allowing universal toleration.
This edict, however, which certainly seemed inconsistent with
the general tenor of his principles, could not prevent the rising
of a fanatical zeal for their peculiar tenets in the minds both of
Christians and of heathens, which soon produced the most violent
and irreconcilable animosities.  Constantine, returning from  his
Asiatic expedition, alienated the minds of his Roman subjects by
two extraordinary acts of cruelty, the murder of his son Crispus
and his step-mother Fausta, upon light suspicions of some infamous
connections having taken place between them. Many other indi



510                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [300r v
viduals of rank were put to death on the evidence of informers,
and on the most vague and general suspicions. The cruelty of
the emperor became excessive.  Rome cried out against him as a
second Nero, and the populace openly insulted him.
Whether it was the disgust he conceived at this decided change
n the minds of the Romans, or solely an ambitious and unsettled
disposition which led to his design of altering the seat of empire,
it is'not easy to determine.  He fixed his eyes, however, on Byzantium, to which he gave the name of Constantinople. He
erected there the most superb structures, and in order to people
his new city, he made a law by which no Asiatic should have the
right of disposing of his estate by testament, unless he possessed a
dwelling-house in Constantinople. Those, again, who resided
there were gratified by. a variety of alluring privileges; and by
means of these he drew the poorer inhabitants from Rorpe, whilst
the richer voluntarily followed the prince and his court. WTe
grandees brought with them their slaves, and Rome in a few years
became almost depopulated.  Italy was also greatly exhausted of
her inhabitants, and Constantinople swelled at once to the most
overgrown dimensions. When the empire was thus divided, all
riches naturally centered in the new capital.  At this period, the
German mines were unknown, those of Italy and Gaul were inconsiderable, as were also those of Spain.  Italy was now a waste
of desolated gardens. It had no pecuniary supplies from commerce,
and being still subjected to the same taxes as when it was the seat
of empire, its miserable situation may be easily conceived.
After thus weakening or rather annihilating the ancient capital
of the empire, Constantine drew off from the frontiers the legions
which were stationed on the banks of the large rivers, and distributed them into the provinces. This measure had two most pernicious effects.  It.left the frontiers to the mercy of the barbarous
nations, and enervated the troops by the effeminate pleasures of
the great cities.  Luxury, which, in all its different shapes, pervaded even the extremities of the empire, reigned absolute in the
centre.  Constantine himself in every thing affected the Asiatic
splendor and ceremonial. He wore the diadem, and assumed a
number of high-sounding, empty titles; his amusements were at
once costly and effeminate; his festivals and public spectacles
most profusely luxurious.  Towards the conclusion of his reign,
the Goths, making another invasion, were repulsed and defeated,
but by imprudently raising many of them to offices of dignity, he
gave to these barbarians a kind of footing in the Roman empire.
Sapor II., king of Persia, having made an inroad upon Mesopotamia,;Constantine marched against him.  He repulsed the Persian troops, but after the victory fell sick at Nicomedia, and there
died at the age of sixty-three, and in the thirtieth year of his
reign. His character cannot easily be drawn with. impartiality.
Talents and ability in no common degree he certainly possessed




CII.' IXII]      SYSTEM OF CONSTANTINE, ETC.                 511
blut as to the other points of his character, the professed pictures
of historians are so extremely contradictory, that neither Pagan nor
Christian writers deserve to be in any degree relied on.  By the
one class he is held forth as a shining example of universal virtue:
by the other he is represented as a Proteus in every variety of vice.
"We may," says the Abbe Fleury, I" form  an impartial judgment
of the character of this emperor, by believing all the faults ascribed
to him by the Bishop Eusebius, and all the good spoken of him by
Zosimus." *
CHAPTER III.
Change in the System of Policy and Government introduced by ConstantinePretorian Prefects —Proconsuls-Counts and Dukes-Taxes-Free GiftsSeat of Empire translated to Constantinople-Division of the EmpireJulian-His artfuil Hostility to Christianity-Jovian-Valentinian-Irruptions of the Goths-Of the Huns-Valens-Gratian-Theodosius-Valentinian the Second.
THERE were circumstances which rendered the reign of Constantine a remarkable epoch in the history of the Roman empire; and,
as it is of consequence that we should become acquainted with
that new system. of policy and government which at this time was
introduced, and which was so materially different from  that constitution with which we have hitherto been acquainted, a few observations upon this subject may neither be impertinent nor uninstructive; more especially as they are connected with those internal causes which were now silently undermining the Roman power.
The distinctions of personal merit, so conspicuous under the
republican form of government, were gradually weakening from
the time that the imperial dignity arose, and now were almost
totally obliterated.  In their room was substituted a rigid subordination of rank and office, which went through all the departments
of the state. Every rank was fixed, its dignity was displayed in
a variety of trifling ceremonies; and, as Mr. Gibbon has remarked, in his favorite metaphoric style, "At this time the system  of
the Roman government might, by a philosophic observer, have
been mistaken for a splendid theatre filled with players of every
Hist. Ecel., tome iii. p. 233.




512                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               LBOOrM v
character and degree, who repeated the language and imitated the
manners of the emperor, their original model."
The epithet Illustrious, which belonged only to the highest ranks
of the state, was conferred upon four distinct classes of officers and
magistrates: 1. The Consuls and Patricians; 2. The Pretorian
Prefects of Rome and Constantinople; 3. The Masters General
of the Cavalry and Infantry; and 4. The Seven Ministers of the
Palace who exercised their sacred functions about the person of the
emperor.
The -ancient consuls were chosen by the suffrages of the people,
and, during the government of the first emperors, by the real or
apparent suffrage of the senate; but from the reign of Diocletian,
they were created by the sole authority of the emperor. A magnificent festival was held at their inauguration; and their names and
portraits, on tables of ivory, were dispersed to all the provinces and
cities of the empire; but they had not a shadow of power-they no
longer presided in the councils of the state, nor executed the resolutions of peace or war; and their names served for nothing more
than to give the legal date of the year.
The ancient patrician families had been long since extinguished,
and every dignity and distinction which arose from birth had been
gradually obliterated, from the time that the offices of state had
become common to the plebeians.  The latter emperors preserved
indeed the title of patricians, but it was now a personal and not
an hereditary distinction.  It was bestowed generally on their
favorites as a title of honor, or upon ministers and magistrates who
had grown old in office.
The authority of the pretorian prefects was very different from
such nominal and inefficient dignities.  From  the time that the
pretorian bands were suppressed by Constantine, these haughty
officers, who had been little less than the masters of the empire,
were now reduced to the station of usefuil and obedient ministers.
They had lost all military command; but they became the civil
magistrates of the provinces.  The empire was divided under four
governors.  The prefect of the East had a jurisdiction from  the
Nile to the banks of the river Phasis in Colchis, and from the
mountains of Thrace to the frontiers of Persia.  The prefect of
Illyrium, or Illyria, governed the provinces of Pannonia, Dacia,
Macedonia, and Greece.  The prefect of Italy superintended not
only that country, but Rhaetia, as far as the banks of the Danube,
the Mediterranean islands, and the opposite coast of Africa. The
prefect of the Gauls governed these provinces, and likewise Spain
and Britain.  These officers had the supreme administration of
justice and of the finances.  They watched over the conduct of
the provincial magistrates, removed the negligent, and inflicted
punishments on the guilty.  An appeal was competent to them
from all the inferior jurisdictions, and Constantine disallowed any,
appeal from their sentences to himself.




c.o IuI.]           SYSTEM OF CONSTANTINE.                  513
The cities of Rome and Constantinople were exempted from
the authority of the pretorian prefects. They had each their
own prefect, who was the supreme magistrate of the city. They
were presidents of the city, and all municipal authority was derived from them alone. They had the superintendence of the
police, the care of the port, the aqueducts, the common sewers,
the distribution of the public allowance of corn and provision. A
perfect equality was established between these dignities and the
four pretorian prefects.
Such were the magistrates who formed the first class in the
state, which was termed Illustres.  Inferior to these, were those
magistrates who were termed Spectabiles   Such were the proconsuls of Asia, Achaia, and Africa, and the military Counts and
Dukes ( Cornites and Duces) or generals of the Imperial armies.
The third class of the magistrates, inferior to the two former,
had the denomination of Clarissirmi.  This class consisted of the
governors of the provinces, who were entrusted, under the author
ity  of the prefects or their deputies, with the administration of
justice and the management of the finances in their respective
districts.
The supreme jurisdiction exercised by the pretorian prefects
over the armies of the empire was afterwards transferred to eight
Masters-General of thbe cavalry and infantry.  Under their orders,
thirty-five military commanders were stationed in the provinces.
These were distinguished by the titles of Counts and Dukes, and
they received each, besides their pay, an allowance sufficient to
maintain -90 servants, and 158 horses.  They had no concern in
the administration of justice or of the revenue; but they exercised
a command over the troops independent of the authority of the
magistrates. This necessarily created a divided interest, which
relaxed the vigor of the state.  The civil and the military magistrates could have no good understanding, and a source of dissenslon was thus established, which had the most pernicious consequences.
Of the seven Ministers of the Palace, who were likewise entitled to the rank of Illustrious, the first was the Pracpositus, or
Prefect of the Bedchamber, an eunuch whose duty was to perform all the menial services about the emperor; but whose office
was at the same time esteemed so honorable as to rank before the
proconsuls of Greece or Asia-a strong mark of the corruption of
manners.  The second of the ministers entitled to the same rank
was the Master of the Offices, who had the principal administration of public affairs —a sort of Secretary of State, having subordinate to him a great many other secretaries, who had each their
different department.  The third was the Quaestor.  In some respects his office resembled that of a modern chancellor: he was
the mouth of the:emperor in pronouncing his edicts, and he prepared the form and style of the imperial laws.  The fourth was
VOL. I..                 65




514                   UNIVERSAL HISTORY.             [BOOK V
the Count of the Sacred Largesses, or the treasurer-general of the
revenue, under whom were twenty-nine provincial receivers.  His
jurisdiction extended over the mines, over the mint, and even
over the public treasuries.  He likewise directed all the linen and
vWoollen manufactures.  Linen, it must be observed, though not
anciently in use among the Romans, had become a common wear
for the women even in the time of the eldei Pliny.  The fifth
minister of the palace was the Count qr Treasurer of the Private
Estate, whose office was to administer that revenue of the elm.
peror which arose from his domain or territorial property, which
he had in most of the provinces, and from the confiscations and
forfeitures.   The sixth and seventh were the two Counts of the
Domestics, who commanded those bands of cavalry and infantry
which guarded the emperor's person.  The number of these troops
amounted to 3,500 men.
The intercourse between the court and provinces was maintained by the construction of. roads, and by the institution of Posts;
but these establishments paved the way for a most intolerable
abuse.  Some hundred agents, who were afterwards increased to
some thousands, were employed, under the jurisdiction of the
masters of the offices, to announce the names of the annual consuls, and to report the edicts of the emperor through all the prov
inces.  These people were, in fact, nothing else but the spies of
government-who were encouraged, by rewards, to communicate
from time to time all sorts of intelligence from the.remote corners
of the empire to its chief seat; to watch the progress of all treasonable designs, and discover such persons as they should find
harboring any symptom of disaffection; they were consequently
the objects of terror and of consummate hatred: circumstances
which prevented their employment from being ever accepted,
unless by men of bad character and desperate fortune, who exercised without scruple the most unjust and insolent oppression.
Every institution was now calculated to support the fabric of
despotism.  The use of torture, from which, in the happier days
of the Roman. government, every one who enjoyed the privileges
of a citizen was exempted, began now to be employed without
regard to this distinction; in place of which a few special exemptions were granted by the emperor in favor of those of the rank
of illustres, of bishops and professors of the liberal arts, soldiers,
municipal officers, and children under the age of puberty; but
these exceptions sanctified the use of torture in all other cases.
To these grievances may be added the oppressive taxes.  The
word indiction, which serves to ascertain the chronology of the
middle ages, was derived from the practice of the emperor's sign
ing with his own hand an edict prescribing the annual measure of
the tribute to be levied, and the term allowed for payment of it.
The measure or quantity was ascertained by a censusj or survey,
made by persons appointed for that purpose, through all the




CII. XHI.]          SYSTEM OF CONSTANTINE.                 515
provinces, who measured the lands, took account of their nature,
whether arable, pasture, wood, or vineyard, and made an estimate
of their medium value, from an average produce of five years.
The numbers of slaves and of cattle were likewise reported, and
the proprietors were exarmined on'their oath as to the true state
of their affairs.  Part of the tribute specified by the indiction was
paid in money, and part in the produce of the lands; and so exorbitant were these taxes, that the husbandmen found it their
interest to let their fields lie uncultivated, as the burdens increased
in a greater proportion to the produce than their profits.  Hence
the agriculture of the Roman provinces was almost ruined; and
population, which keeps pace with plenty, gradually diminished.
But not only were the proprietors of land borne down by the
weight of their taxes: the burden was equally severe on all classes
of the citizens.  Every branch of commercial industry paid its
rated tribute.  All the objects of merchandise, whether of home
growth aDt of importation, all the products of arts and manufactures,
were highly taxed; and as the tribute on land was made effectual
by the seizure of personal property, that on personal property was
enforced by corporal punishments.  The cruel treatment of the
insolvent debtors of the state, which, under some of the former
emperors, had reached the height of barbarity, was, however, mitigated by an edict of Constantine, in which he disclaims the use
of racks and scourges for the punishment of debtors, and allots a
spacious prison'for their confinement.
To these supplies of the imperial revenue must be added those
donations, called Free Gifts, friom the several cities and provinces
of the monarchy., which it was customary to bestow as often as
the emperor announced his accession, his consulship, the birth of
a son, the creation of a Coesar, a victory over the barbarians, or
any other event of great importance.  These, which were now
presents of money, came in place of the ancient offerings of crowns
of gold made by the cities of Italy to a victorious general.  The
free gift of the senate of Rome, upon such occasions as we have
mentioned, amounted to 1600 pounds weight of gold, (about
X64,000 sterling,) and the other cities of the empire, we may
suppose, paid in proportion.
But none of the institutions of Constantine were so fatal to the
empire as those which he introduced into the military discipline.
A distinction was established between the troops which were stationed in the remote provinces, and those which remained in the
heart of the empire, the latter were termed Palatines, by way
of superiority, and enjoyed a much higher pay, which enabled
them, except in time of war,'to indulge themselves in idleness,
indolence, and every species of luxury.  The former, termed the
Borderers —— who, in fact, had the care of the empire, and were
exposed to perpetual dangers-had a very small allowance of
pay, with the mortification of feeling themselves held of inferior




516                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              LBOOK V
consideration, and thus were, in fact, nothing else than the slaves
of a despot. Constantine likewise, from the timid policy of securing against mutinies and insurrections among the troops-which
were extremely formidable while the legion contained its ancient
number of 5,000, 6,000, or even 8,000 or 9,000 men-reduced the
number of men in the legion to 1,000 or to 1,500; so that each of
these weakened bodies, awed by the sense of its own imbecility,
could now attempt no conspiracy that was formidable. The whole
body of the army was likewise debased by the intermixture of the
barbarian nations, the Scythians, Goths, and Germans, who henceo
forth bore a very great proportion in each of the legions.
Such was the state of the Roman empire at the time of tile
translation of its seat from Rome to Constantinople.  An authority, vigorously despotic, preserved,, as yet, the union of this immense mass, which was laboring internally with the seeds of corruption and dissolution.  In the capital of the empire, the Roman
name owed its chief lustre now to pomp and magnificence-a poor
substitute for that real dignity, derived, in former times, from its
heroic and patriotic virtues.
Constantine, with a very destructive policy, had divided the
empire among no less than five princes; three of them his sons,
and two nephews.  Constantius, the youngest and most ambitious
of the sons, soon got rid of the nephews.  They were massacred
by the soldi'ers, along with many others of his relations, and several of the principal courtiers.  The brothers quarrelled among
themselves; the two elder, Constans and Constantinus, took up
arms, and the latter falling in battle, Constans became sole master
of the Western empire.  This, however, he did not long enjoy,
being soon after assassinated by Magnentius, a German.
Constantius was now.possessed of undivided legal authority,
but had a formidable rival in Magnentius, whose party was much
increased, for while the emperor indolently occupied himself in
theological controversies, his best troops had sided with the usurper.
Constantius made a dastardly offer of peace, which Magnentills
rejected, and an engagement followed, which decided the fate of
the empire.  Constantius was successful, though he had not dared
to take the field in person, but waited the event of the battle in a
neighboring church. Magnentius took refuge in Gaul, where,
being surrounded by the imperial legions, he, in a transport of despair, murdered his mother and several of his relations, and then
stabbed himself with his own hand.
Two nephews of Constantine had escaped that massacre of his
kindred by which Constantius had secured to himself an undivided
empire: these were Gallus and Julian.  The former, Constantius
honored with the dignity of Cwesar, and appointed the city of Antioch for his residence, where for a short time he ruled the eastern
provinces with a violent and tyrannical authority.  Constantius,
governed at that time by the eunuch Eusebius, was persuaded




A. D. 355.]                YULIAN-.                        5i
that Gallus, by his enormities, had rendered himself unworthy of
the dignity to which he had raised him.  He sent an order for
Gallus to repair to the imperial court, then at Milan, which that
prince did not dare to disobey.  He was instantly deprived of his
guards, hurried to prison,;and beheaded like the meanest malefactor.
A variety of civil broils, mutinies of the troops against their
generals, had weakened the force of the armies, and left the western frontier to the mercy of the barbarians.  The Franks, Saxons,
and Alemanni ravaged the Gauls, and destroyed forty-five cities
on the banks of the Rhine.  Pannonia and Mcesia were laid waste
by the Sarmatians, while the Persians made dreadful incursions
upon the eastern empire.  Constantius was wholly occupied with
his religious controversies; but was fortunately prevailed on by
his emnpress to take one measure most conducive to the general
safety, which was to confer on his cousin Julian the title and dignity of Caesar.
This prince, had he appeared in any other era than that in which
two opposite religions were contending for pre-eminence, would
have shone as a very illustrious character.  He possessed many
heroic qualities, and, hi3s' mind was formed by nature to promote
the greatness- and the happiness of an empire.  He had completed
his studies at Constantinople and at Athens.  In the latter city,
the conversation of the Platonic philosophers had given him  a
strong distaste for the doctrines of Christianity, in which he had
been educated; and what, unfortunately riveted his aversion, was
the example of his cousin, Constantius.
Constantius named Julian Ccesar at the age of tw enty-three,
and appointed him governor of Gaul; but with few troops, little
money, and a very limited command; accountable to a set of
veteran officers, whom the emperor appointed for his counsellors.
UnJlder all these disadvantages  he  soon showed distinguished
abilities.'In the first year of his government he studied thecart of war at
Vienna, applied himself with ardor to the discipline of his troops,
and partook himself, with his soldiers, of every fatigue to which
the meanest were subjected.  Two important objects were thus
obtained-a well-regulated army, and a devoted affection of the
troops to the person of their commander.  With these advantages
he soon signalized his military talents.  He drove the barbarians
out of Gaul, and carried the terror of his arms beyond the limits
of the frontier.  Constantius, in his conclave of bishops, arrogated
to himself the honor of these victories, and was employed in holding ecclesiastical councils, while Sapor, the Persian, with a formidable army, broke in upon Mesopotatnia. Julian was now
become an object of jealousy to him  with a view  of disarming
him, he ordered him to send the best of his troops to Constanti'
nople, to serve against the Persians; by which means so incon



618                     TUNIVERSAL HISTORY.                    [ooi     V
siderable a handful would  remain with their commander, that tho
barbarians, with ease and impunity, could have regained what they
had lost.
Julian prepared to obey, but the army took an opposite measure;
they proclaimled hiln emperor, and forced h:im, apparently tunwilling, to accept the purple.*   He still preserved the show  of alle.
giance, and wrote to Constantius, informing him of the proceedings
of the army, and of the impossibility of removing them  from  the
province  without theirs commander.  Constantius, with  amazing
folly, only repeated his orders in a more peremptory style; and
Julian, congratulating himself that every scruple of honor was
satisfied, openly shook off  his submission, and took the field to
maintain his right to the empire.  He marched with rapidity into
Greece. Italy was his own, and every thing submitted to his
arms.  Constantius escaped  the  ignominy that awaited him, by
dying at ibis juncture of a fever in Cilicia.
Julian was now acknowledged through the whole empire.  He
began his reign by the reformation of a variety of civil abuses in
the different departments of the state, abolishing superfluous offices,
and striking at the root of luxury by sumptuary laws.  He  now
gave a loose to his hatred against Christianity, but attacked that
religion by a policy far more pernicious than open persecution.
He began by reforming the Pagan theology; and artfilly attendong to the great difference between that and the Christian religion,
which, to the purest doctrines of faith, joined the. most excellent
system  of morality, he endeavored to give Paganism  that morality
which it wanted, thence confessing the excellence of Christianity
by adopting its sublimest precepts.  He drew  up  himself a plan
of conduct for the priests, recommending to them  a purity  of life
and uncorrupted integrity; thus to enforce by their example the
doctrines  which. they  sought to  inculcate.t   Certain  modern
The circumstances attending this event are extremely well painted by Mr.
Gibbon, Decline and Fall, ch. 22.
f The 49th, 62d, and 63d Epistles of Julian, and a separate fragment on the
same subject, give a very strong picture of his zeal for pagan reformation. " The
exercise of the sacred functions," says Julian, " requires an immaculate purity both
of mind and body; and even when the priest is dismissed from the temple to the
occupations of common life, it is incumbent on him to excc- in decency and
virtue the rest of his fellow citizens. He should never be seen in theatres or
taverns. His conversation should be chaste. his diet temperate, his friends of
honorable reputation. His studies should be s~uited to the sanctity of his profession.
Licentious tales.or comedies, or satires, must be banished firon 1his library, which
ought solely to consist of historical and philosophical writings; of history which
is founded in truth, and of philosophy which is connected with religion. The
impious orations of the Epicureans and Skeptics deserve his abhorrence and
contempt; but he should diligently study the systieems of Pythagoras, of Plato, and
of the Stoics, which unanimously teach that there are gods; that the world' is
governed by their providence; that their goodness is the source of every temporal
blessing; and that they have prepared for the human soul a future state of recardl
or punishIment




A. D. 362.]                    JULIAN.                            519
writers, unfriendly  to  our religion, have enlarged, with  much
apparent satisfaction, on  the great  clemency  and  moderation
which Julian  showed in his treatment of the Christians-affecting
not to perceive that this seeming clemency and moderation was
the  most artful and Qthe most dangerous policy that,could have
then been employed against them; for let us observe how Julian
conducted himself.  He forbade the persecution of the Christians,
Bwhom  he represented as deluded men, the objects of compassion,
not of punishment; but declared, at the same time, that their
frenzy incapacitated them from  all employments, civil or military.
Their law, he said, prohibited all quarrels and dissensions; it was
not, therefore, necessary that they should have the benefit of courts
of justice to decide their differences.  He prohibited them  from
teaching or learning  grammar, rhetoric, or philosophy.  These,
he said, were pagan sciences, treated of by authors whose principles the Christians were taught to abhor, and whose books contained tenets which must* shock the pure morality of their religion.
It is easy to perceive that this artful and insidious mode of attack
was, in reality, much more destructive than the most sanguinary
persecution.
This conduct of Julian would seem to argue a disposition at
least enti:Bly free from any tincture of superstition, and careless of
all religion; but, in fact, Julian was, as a pagan, blinded by the
most bigoted superstition.  His belief in omens was ridiculous;
his sacrifices were so numerous, that cattle were wanting to supply
him  with victims.'*  The expense of these religious rites became
burdensome to the state, and was tniversally complained of.t  He
was even accused  of the horrid abomination of human sacrifices.
His enthusiasm and fanaticism, acknowledged even by his greatest
panegyrists,  " almost degrade him  to the level of an  Egyptian
monk."-"' Notwithstanding his own modest silence upon the subject, (says Mr. Gibbon,) we Inay learn from  his faithful friend,
tile orator Libanius, that he lived in'a perpetual intercourse with
the gods and goddesses; that they descended upon earth to enjoy
the conversation of their favorite hero; that they gently interrupted
his slumbers by touching his hand or his hair; that they warned
him  of any impending danger, and conducted him  by their infalli* Ammianus, though a pagan himself, and an admirer of the character of
Julian, justly censures this part of his conduct:-"' Hostiarum.tamen sanguine
plurimo aras crebritate nimia perfundebat, tauros aliquoties, immolando centenos, et innumeros varii pecoris greges, avesque candidas terra qunesitas et
mari."  And lie describes the soldiers rioting upon the. flesh of the sacrifices,
and daily gorgingo themselves with those dainties and with strong liquors, so
that they were frequently carried to their quarters on the shoulders of the passengers. The enjoyment of such freedoms would very soon convert the army
to the religion of their sovereign. Vid. Ammian. 1. xxii. c. 12.
t Ammianus compares him in this respect. to Marcus Cuesar, to whom the
cattle were feigned to have made this ludicrous complaint:-" The white oxen
to Marcus Cassar; If you conquer, we are undone."




620                     UNIVERSAL  HISTORY~,                EU00K v
ble wisdom  in every action of his life; and that he had acquired
such an intimate knowledge of his heavenly guests, as readily to
distinguish the voice of Jupiter from  that of Minerva, and the form
of Apollo  from  the figure of Hercules."  In short, this wise and
philosophic iemperor was, in matters of religion, one of the weakest,
most bigoted, and superstitious of mankind.
Fo.rtunately for Christianity, he died at a very early age.  He
intended to revenge the injuries which the empire had sustained
from Sapor, and prepared to carry war into the heart of Asia.
After a dangerous march through Assyria, and the siege and reduction of some of the principal towns,. he advanced to the banks
of the Tigris.  Here, in an engagement with the Persians, Julian
was slain at the age of thirty-one.
It is generally acknowledged that he had uncommon talents, and
many of the virtues of a great prince; had not these virtues and
great talents been disgraced by his inveterate hatred to Christianity, from the doctrines of which religion he had early apostatized.*
Julian's  attempt to  rebuild  the  Temple of Jerusalem  is well
known.  The supernatfUral check said to have been given to that
attempt by an  eruption of flames from  the earth has occasioned
much learned theological controversy.  I shall not enter into the
question; but must remark that the sto!ry is related  By Julian's
own friendly historian, Ammianust a sincere pagan, w'hose evidence in this matter is therefore less suspicious.
The death of Julian struck despair into the hearts of the Roman army. A leader, however, was immediately required, and
the  choice fell upon Jovian, a captain  in the domestic guards
Though luxurious and even dissolute in his manners, he possessed
many excellent qualities.  A  negotiation with Sapor was in the
present conjuncture absolutely necessary.  But the Persian, confident of his advantages, insisted on terms dishonorable to the
Romans. He demanded five provinces to be restored, which had
* Prudentius gives the following very just and impartial character of Julian.
~"     Ductor fortissimus armis,
Conditor et legum celeberrimus; ore manuque
Consultor patrias;. sed non consultor habende
Religionis, amans tercentfim millia DivAim:
Perfidus ille Deo: sed non perfidus orbi."
Prudent. Apoth. 450, &c.
t Dr. Howel, in his valuable History of the World, has given the life of
Julian almost in the words of Ammianus Marcellinus, who was an officer in
Julian's army, and a witness of all his exploits; an impartial biographer, for
he blames as well as praises.-The abilities of Julian are sufficiently proved by
his own literary compositions. In his Satire, termed the Mvisopogon, or Beardhater, he paintS his own character with freedoml and with wit; and we learn more
from it, of the real dispositions of this singular man, than from the narratives of
his historians. (The Misopogon is well abridged by Dr. Howel, vol. ii. c. i. s.
5.) His moral fable, entitled the Cesars, is one of the most agreeable and in.
structive productions of ancient wit. For an abstract of it, see Gibbon's Decline and Fall, chap. 24..




A. D. V68.]        VALENTINIAN AND VALENS.                  521
been ceded by his grandfather to Galerius; and required, besides,
several towns in Mesopotamia.  It was absolutely necessary to
grant these conditions, though the empire agreed to them with
general dissatisfaction.
Jovian, having thus secured a peace, applied himself with zeal
to the happiness of his subjects.  He favored Christianity, and
sought to heal the wounds which that religion had received from
his predecessor.  He showed, in the means which he adopted for
promoting it, a policy equally artful with that of Julian for its destruction.  In a council which he assembled at Antioch, he declared his resolution that no man should' be molested on account of
his religious tenets.  He recalled the banished Christians, admitting them  with the pagans, equally, to the exercise of all publie employments; these commencements promised a happy reign;
but the hopes of the empire were blasted as soon as they were
formed, for Jovian died at the age of thirty-three, after a reign
only of seven months.x
The army then in Bithynia chose Valentinian for their emperor-a man of obscure birth, but of considerable military reputationi. He was illiterate, severe in his manners, and excessively
avaricious; yet in other respects deserving of the throne.  As
soon as he was elected, he was urged to name a colleague.  "You
have elected me," said he,'your emperor; it is now my province to command, and it is yours to obey.. I shall choose for myself a colleague, whom I think proper, and when I judge expedient."'  He afterwards named his brother Valens, to whom  he
gave the dominion of the East, reserving to himself the West.
Valens had to oppose Sapor, who now attempted the conquest of
Armenia; and Valentinian the barbarians, who poured down upon
the westein empire from  every quarter.  Previous, however, to
any warlike expedition, Valentinian thought it necessary to establish a good political arrangement at home.  The clergy had formerly been exempted from taxes, but Valentinian thought that, as
the interest of the state was the concern of all its members, no
order should be privileged.  Though a Christian himself, his zeal
was subservient to policy.  He interfered in no theological disputes, leaving these to be determined by the clergy; and so far
was he from persecuting the pagans, that he allowed them an unlimited toleration.  These prudent measures prevented all religious disturbances; and the Christian religion silently made greater
progress than if it had been intemperately promoted by the ardor
of a zealot.
Valentinian now marched into Gaul, and repelled the Alemann
*The accounts of his death are various. Ammianus says, "He was suffocated in his sleep, either by the vapor of a newly-plastered room or the smoke
of coals j or that he died of a surfeit."-Ammian. xxv. 10.
VOL. I.           66




522                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.               [BOOK V
and other barbarous tribes, in a series of successful engagements.
In' these, however, the severity of his disposition was rigorously
felt, and the Roman name was disgraced by many atrocious
actions.
Valentinian gave peace to the Western empire; but the East
was distracted by the imprudent zeal of Valens, who, intemperately
promoting the cause of Arianism, invited a swarm of enemies upon
the empire who, in the end, entirely subverted it.  These were
the Goths, a people originally inhabiting the country of Scandinavia, which the ancient authors have termed the nursery of the
hulan race; officina humanii generis.  Montesquieu accounts for
those prodigious inundations from the North, which argue an aston.
ishing populousness of those countries which sent them out, by
saying, "6 that the violence of the Romans had forced the peoples
of the South to retire to the North," and that they now regorged
upon the empire;" but we know of no violences equal to the
production of that effect, and the barbarians who invaded the
empire retained no traces of a southern origin, but showed, in
their manners, customs, and laws, a genius and character entirely
their own and strongly distinct from that of the nations of the
South.  Some centuries before the Christian era, the Goths had
emigrated from the North; and some of their tribes, the Vandals,
Heruli, and Lombards, had established themselves in Germany.
In the second century, a vast body had fixed their residence on
the banks of the Palus Mmotis; and had thence extended their
conquests with great rapidity.  Under the reign of Valens, they
took possession of the provinceof Dacia, and were distinguished
by the appellation of Ostrogoths and Visigoths, or Eastern and
Western Goths-the first inhabiting the coasts of the Euxine Sea,
and towards the mouth of the Danube; the latter dwelling along
the banks of that river.  They were a remarkable people; and
their manners, laws, government, and customs are highly deserving of particular attention, as the- great fountain from  which the
manners and policy bf all the European nations are at this day
derived.  It will not, therefore, be impertinent to bestow  some
time in giving a particular view of this people, which I shall do'when I have brought the Roman history to its period.
Julian had despised these invaders, and the terror of his name
had kept them  quiet during his reign.  Procopius, the cousin of
Julian, had attempted to wrest the throne from  Valens, and obtained for that purpose the assistance of the Goths; but that emperor engaged them with success and compelled theml to repass the
Danube.  Valentinian, in the meantime, engaged with the Alemanni in Germany, died upon that expedition, and was succeeded
by Gratian, his eldest son, who was then in the sixteenth year of
* Mont., Grand. et Dcad., chap. xvi.




CH. III.]                 TME HUNS.                        623
his age.  Hle had borne the title of Augustus from his ninth year,
and his right to the empire was not disputed.  The army joined
with him  his brother, Valentinian II., an infant, four years old.
The youth and inexperience of Gratian led him, in the beginning
of his reign, to authorize some tyrannical and cruel acts, which appeared contrary to his natural disposition.  Valens, in the mean
time, in the East filled the empire with daily examples of vice and
tyranny.  He was detested by his subjects, and consequently exposed to frequent conspiracies, which, in their punishment, gave
firesh display to his sanguinary disposition.
While the Eastern empire thus groaned under a vicious prince,
-a new race of barbarians came down from the North in a resistless
torrent, which affected almost every quarter of Europe.  These
were the IHuns, a race of Tartars or Siberians-unknown till then
by the European nations; though they had long before that period
been the terror of the Chinese, who are supposed to have built
their famous wall to defend themselves from their invasions.
T'he occasion of this irruption into Europe appears to have been
a civil war among themselves, in which the vanquished party were
driven to the South.  The Goths, a comparatively civilized people,
looked upon the Huns as monsters; they fled before them.  The
Visigoths, who were first attacked, entreated. the Romans to receive them  into their dominions.  Valens, who was no politician,
walflattered by their request, and immediately granted them. a settlement in Thrace.  The Ostrogoths next appeared, and demanded
the same protection.  Valens now began to fear the consequences
of harboring such a multitude of strangers, and he refused their
demand; but the frontiers of the empire being ill defended, the
Ostrogoths, disregarding his refusal, passed forward without opposition, and overpowered Thrace like a deluge.  Valens hastily concluded a peace with Sapor, the Persian, to march to the defence
of that province; but he had discharged the greatest part of the
old troops, trusting that these very invaders would be the defence
of the emlire.  His army was raw and undisciplined; Fritigern,
king of the Goths, cut them to pieces in the battle of Adrianople,
and Valens himself perished in the engagement.  These northern
strangers were now unresisted.  They ravaged Achaia and Pannonia; the considerable towns alone holding out against them, and
these only because they knew not the art of besieging.
Gratian, in this critical juncture, arriving at Constantinople, as —
sumed Theodosius, an able general, for his colleague in the empire, who was, in every sense, worthy of his dignity. To great
courage and magnanimity Theodosius joined an honorable and virtuous disposition; though, as a Christian emperor, his character
has, of course, been aspersed by Pagan historians.  He enacted
many excellent laws.  His religious zeal perhaps transported him
too far; certainly some of the laws which hd framed against heretics are rigorous in the extreme.  Gratian, his colleague, was




524                  UNIVERSAL HISTORY.              [BOOK v
equally zealous, and yet more imprudent.  He provoked the Pa.
gans by persecution and the destruction of their temples, so that
he became, from that cause alone, an object of hatred to the greatest part of his subjects.
Upon the death of Gratian, his infant son, Valentinian II., succeeded to the Western empire, which was, in the meantime, governed by Theodosius as his guardian. This prince, who obtained
and who deserved the epithet of great, ruled the empire for eighteen years with consummate ability. He was at first obliged to
yield the government of Britain and the Gauls to the prefect of
Maximus, who had obtained the absolute command of the troops
in those provinces, and confident of his powers, had demanded a
share of the empire. This concession emboldened Maximnus to
aim at the sovereignty of the whole.  He invaded Italy, and took
possession of Rome, while the young Valentinian, with his mother
Justina, fled for refuge to Thessalonica.  But Theodosius marching
against the usurper, defeated him in a decisive engagement in Pannonia, and allowed him to be massacred by the victorious troops.
Valentinian was thus restored to the sovereignty of the West by
the arms of his guardian.  But the young prince soon after fell a
sacrifice to the treason of one of his generals, Arbogastes; and
Theodosius, defeating Arbogastes, remained sole emperor of the
East and West.
The character of this prince was worthy of the best ages of'the
Roman state.  The wisdom of the laws of Theodosius procured
him the esteem and affection of his subjects; the success of his
arms kept in terror the surrounding barbarians.  IIis domestic
character was amiable and respectable, though sullied at times by
an intemperance of passion which led him into some acts of inhumanity, for which, in his cool moments, he suffered the keenest
remorse.  Under a series of princes like Theodosius, the Roman
empire might have once more regained its ancient dignity and
splendor; but the weakness of its successors blasted all those
pleasing expectations.
The reign of Theodosius was the era of the downfall of the Pagan religion in the Roman empire, and the full establishment of
Christianity.  As this great revolution in human affairs is of the
utmost importance, in far more than a mere political point of view,
we shall consider it at some length in the succeeding chapter.
END OF VOL. I.