(' - .V A f 1 ' -Y-'X'i -: ^ •■ • *■ '-vW ’.-^ ■ '-^-■' '1- *v z '* ■ v'«'; •*■ "^ ' - v.'v , ■ V ,«> » V 'W - ; • '*■ Ai* V ’■ Vi*.' •.■**;^* ■> -' • ’■• ■ -vV V.' V • • * >» V’ ▼ 1 \ V 'j " ”* . "^ » . ■ • ', v€^i^-S ■ :•- ^ ■•• ■ •• . ’ ■ ' .V,-, . •• ^ • ' • ' ^•- ■■ ■ ^3?;: ' ’ • T 't . '-a •I''* •: i ;‘a* • * ' *.•' • •'■ ‘*1 i' ^ - * i' /.'i ■ >* ' 7'v VJ , ■ *1 2 ^rr-/ _■■ y^/ DupUoate Korthwestern University Library I E) RA RY OF THE u N I VERS ITY or I ELI N O I S OZO.O'!^ •pn^-Si ' V i s i I . '; z-' ; , , / ^ f f V‘ PLUTARCH’S LIVES. TRANSLATED /rnm tjiB (Driginnl (0mk, WITH NOTES, HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL, AND A LIFE OF PLUTARCH. BY JOHN LANGHORNE, M.D., AND WILLIAM LANGHORNE, M.A. Carefully correcteti, anti prnitetJ from t]^e last Hontion IBoltfoiv IN FOUR VOLUMES. VOL. Ill NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 329 & 331 PEARL STREET FRANKLIN SQUAR* - o ? ■ ‘ ^ CONTENTS OP THE THIRD VOLUME P*«l Nieias. 5 — Marcus Crassus. 38 Nicias and Crassus compared. 74 Sertorius. 79 Eumenes. 103 Sertorius and Eumenes compared. 123 Agesilaus. 125 Pompey. 163 Agesilaus and Pompey compared. 236 — Alexander. 24,1 Julius Caesar.316 ■ Phocion. 373 Cato the Younger. 104 Agis. 457 ■ PLUTARCH’S LIVES «>r< M. XA. tj LIFE OF NICIAS. We have pitched upon Crassus as a proper person to be pm III parallel with Nicias; and the misfortunes which befel the one in Parthia, with those which overtook the other in Sicily. But we have an apology to make to the reader on another ac¬ count. As we are now undertaking a history, where Thucy¬ dides, in the pathetic, has even outdone himself, and, in energy and variety of composition, is perfectly inimitable, we hope no one will suspect we have the ambition of Timseus, who flat¬ tered himself he could exceed the power of Thucydides, and make Philistus* pass for an inelegant and ordinary writer. Under the influence of that deception, Timaeus plunges into the midst of the battles both at sea and land, and speeches in which those historians shine the most. However he soon appears, Not like a footman by the Lydian car, as Pindar expresses it, but a shallow puerile writer,! or, to use the words of the poet Diphilus,— ---A heavy animal Cas’d in Sicilian lard.- Sometimes he falls into the dreams of Xenarchus;! as where • Philistus was so able a writer, that Cicero calls him the younger Thucy¬ dides* •|- Timseus might have his vanity; and if he hoped to excel Thucydides, he certainly had: yet Cicero and Diodorus speak of him as a very able histo¬ rian. Longinus reconciles the censure and the praise. He says, sometimes you find him in the grand and sublime; but, blind to his own defects, he is much incUned to censure others, and is so fond of thinking out of the com¬ mon road, that he often sinks into the utmost puerility. t Xenarclius the Peripatetic was master to Strabo; and Xenarchus the comic poet was author of several pieces of humour; but we know no histoi rian of that name. NICIAS. he says,—could not but consider it as a bad omen for tlit Athenians, that they had a general with a name derived from victory,* who disapproved the expedition.’^ As also,—Thai by the mutilation of the Hermse, the gods presi^nified that they should suffer most in the Syracusan war from Hermocrates the son of Hermon.”t And again,—It is probable that Hercu les assisted the Syracusans, because Proserpine delivered up Cerberus to him; and that he was offended at the Athenians foi supporting the ^gesteans, who were descended from the Tro¬ jans, his mortal enemies, whose city he had sacked in revenge tor the injuries he had received from Loamedon.” He made these fine observations with the same discernment which pul him upon finding fault with the language of Philistus, and ceri suring the writings of Plato and Aristotle. For my part, I can not but think, all emulation and jea lousy about expression betrays a littleness of mind, and is the characteristic of a sophist; and when that spirit of contest at¬ tempts things inimitable, it is perfectly absurd. Since, there¬ fore, it is impossible to pass over in silence those actions of Nicias which Thucydides and Philistus have recorded, espe¬ cially such as indicate his manners and disposition, which often lay concealed under the weight of his misfortunes, we shall give an abstract from them of what appears most necessary, lest we should be accused of negligence or indolence. As for other matters not generally known, which are found scattered in historians, or in ancient inscriptions and decrees, we shall collect them with care; not to gratify an useless curiosity, but by drawing from them the true lines of this general’s character, to serve the purposes of real instruction. The first thing I shall mention relating to him, is the obser¬ vation of Aristotle,—That three of the most worthy men in Athens, who had a paternal regard and friendship for the peo- 5 1e, were Nicias the son of Niceratus, Thucydides the son of liiesias, and Theramenes the son of Agnon. The last, in¬ deed, was not so remarkable in this respect as the other two; for he had been reproached with his birth, as a stranger come from the isle of Ceos; and, from his want of firmness, or rather versatility, in matters of government, he was called the Bu^kln,X Thucydides was the oldest of the three; and when Pericles acred a flattering part to the people, he often opposed him in behalf of the nobility. Though Nicias was much the younger * That is, Nicias. Nice sig'nifies victory. •}• Long’inus quotes this passage as an example of the frigid sUde, and of those puerilities he had condemned in Timaeus. i The form of the buskin was such, that it might be worn indifferentlv on either leg. « NICIAS. 7 man^ he gained some refjutation while Pericles lived, insomuch that he was seveial times his colleague in the war, and often commanded alone. But when Pericles died, he was soon ad¬ vanced to the head of the administration, particularly by tlic influence of the rich and great, who hoped he would prove a barrier against the daring insolence of Cleon. He had, how¬ ever, the good wishes of the people, and they contributed their share to his advancement. It is true, Cleon had considerable interest, which he gained making his court to the old men, and by his frequent dona¬ tions to the poor citizens; yet even many of those whom he studied to oblige, seeing his avarice and effrontery, came over to Nicias. For the gravity of Nicias had nothing austere or morose in it, but was mixed with a reverence for the people, in which fear seemed to be prevalent, and consequently was very agreeable to them. Indeed, he was naturally timid and cold- hearted; out this defect was concealed by the long course of success with which fortune favoured his expeditions. And his timidity in the assemblies of the people, and dread of persons who made a trade of impeachments, was a popular thing. It contributed not a little to gain him the regards of the multitude, who are afraid of those that despise them, and love to promote those that fear them; because, in general, the greatest honour they can hope to obtain, is not to be despised by the great. As Pericles kept the reins of government in his hands, by means of real virtue, and by the force of his eloquence, he had no need to hold out false colours, or to use anv artifice with the people. Nicias was deficient in those great endowments, but had superior riches; and he applied them to the purposes of popularity. On the other hand, he could not, like Cleon, divert and draw the people by an easy manner, and the sallies of buffoonery; and, therefore, he amused them with the chorusses of tragedy, with gymnastic exercises, and such like exliibitions, whicli far exceecled, in point of magnificence and elegance, all tliat went before him, and those of his own times too. Two of his offerings to the gods are to be seen at this day; the one, a statue of Pmlas dedicated in the citadel, which has lost part of its gilding; the other, a small chapel in the temple of Bac¬ chus, under the tripods, which are commonly offered up by those who gain the prize in tragedy. Indeed, Nicias was already victorious in those exhibitions. It is said, that in a chorus of that kind, one of his slaves appeared in the character of Bac¬ chus. The slave was of an uncommon size and beauty, but had not yet arrived at maturity; and the people were so ch.arm¬ ed with him, that thev gave him long plaudits. At last, Nicias rose up and said,—He stiould think it an act of imjiiety to retain a person in servitude, who seemed b} the pulilic voice tn NICIAS, be consecrated to a god;’’ and he enfranchised him upon me spot. His regulations with respect to Delos are still spoken of, ah worthy oi the deity who presides there. Before his time, the choirs which the city sent to sing the praises of Apollo,^ lanch eo in a disorderly manner, because the inhabitants of tne island used to run up to the ship, and press them to sing before they were disembarked; so that they were forced to strike up, as they were putting on their robes and garlands. But when Nicias had the conduct of this ceremony, known by the name oi Theoria, he landed first in the isle of Rhenia with the choir, the victims, and all the other necessary preparations. He had taken care to have a bridge constructed before he left Athens, which would reach from that isle to Delos, and which was magnificently gilded, and adorned with garlands, rich stuffs, and tapestry. In the night he threw his bridge over the chan¬ nel, w^hich was not large; and at break of day he marched over it at the head of the procession, with his choir richly habited, and singing hymns to the god. After the sacrifices, the games, and banquets w^ere over, he consecrated a palm tree of brass to Apollo, and likewise a field which he had purchased for ten thousand drachmas. The Delians were to lay out the income in sacrifices and feasting, and at the same time to pray for Apollo’s blessing upon the founder. This is inscribed on a pillar, which he left in Delos as a monument of his benefaction. As for the palm tree, it was broken by the winds, and the frag¬ ment falling upon a great statue,t which the people of Naxos had set up, demolished it. It is obvious, that most of these things were done for osten tation, and with a view to popularity. Nevertheless, we may collect from the rest of his liie and conduct, that religion had the principal share in these dedications, and that popularity was but a secondary motive; for he certainly was remarkable for his fear of the gods, and, as Thucydides observes, he was pious to a degree oi^superstition.f It is related, in the Dialogues of Pasiphon, that he sacrificed every day, and that he had a diviner in his house, who, in appearance, inquired the success of the public affairs, but, in reality, was much oftener consult¬ ed about his own; particularly as to the success of his silver mines in the borough of Lauriurn; which in general afforded a large revenue, but were not worked without danger. lie main- * There was a select band of music annually sent by the principal cities of Greece. The procession was called Theoria, and it was looked upon a? an honourable commission to have the manag-ement of it. T A statue which the Naxeans had dedicated to Apollo« 'Fhe pedestal has peen discovered by some modern travellers. i I’hucyd. 1. vii. NICIAS. tamed theie a multitude of slaves; and the greatest part of hi^ fortune consisted in silver. So that he had many retainers, who asked favours, and were not sent away empty. For he gave not only to those who deserved his bounty, but to such as might be aide to do him harm; and bad men found resources in his fears, as 'well as good men in his liberality. The comic poets bear witness to what 1 have advanced. Teleclides in¬ troduces a trading informer speaking thus:—Charicles would not give one mina^ to prevent my declaring that he was the first fruits of his mother’s amours; but Nicias, the son of Ni- ceratus, gave me four. Why he did it I shall not say, though I know it perfectly well. For Nicias is my friend, a very wise man besides, in my opinion.” Eupolis, in his Marcia^ brings another informer upon the stage, who meets with some poor ignorant man, and thus addresses him:— “ Informer. How long* is it since you saw Nicias? “ Poor man. I never saw him before this moment, when he stood in tnc market-place. “ Informer. Take notice, my friends, the man confesses he has seen Nicias. And for what purpose could he see him, but to sell him his vote? Nicias, therefore, is plainly taken in the fact. “ Poet. Ah, fools! do you think you can ever persuade the world, that so good a man as Nicias was taken in mal-practices? Cieon, in Aristophanes, says, in a menacing tone:—I will out bawl the orators, and make Nicias tremble.”^ And Phryni- chus glances at his excessive timidity, when, speaking of ano¬ ther person, he says,—I know him to be an honest man, and a good citizen, one who does not walk the streets with a down¬ cast look, like Nicias.” With this fear of informers upon him, he would not stop or discourse with any of the citizens, or come into any of those parties which make the time to pass so agreeably. When he was archon, he used to stay in court till night, being always the first that came, and the last that went away. When he had no public business upon his hands, he shut himself up at home, and was extremely difficult of access. And if any per¬ sons came to the gate, his friends went and begged them to excuse Nicias, because he had some affairs under consideration which were of great importance to the state. The person who assisted him most in acting this farce, and gaining him the reputation of a man for ever intent upon busi¬ ness, was one Hiero, who was brought up in his house, had a liberal education, and a taste of music given him there. He passed himself for the son )f Dionysius, surnamed Chalcus, * This is in the Equites of Aristophanes, ver. 357. It is not Cleon, ()u< Agoracritus who speaks. VoL. III.- 10 NICIAS. some of whose poems are still extant, and who, having con ducted a colony into Italy, founded the city of Thurii. Thi?: Hiero transacted all the private business of Niciaswith the diviners; and whenever he came among the people, he used to tell them,—What a laborious and miserable life Nicias led for their sakes. He can not go to the bath,’^ said he, or the table, but some affair of state solicits his attention; and he ne¬ glects his own concerns to take care of the public. He can scarce find time for repose, till the other citizens have had their first sleep. Amidst these cares'and labours, his health declines daily, and his temper is so broken, that his friends no longer approach him with pleasure; but he loses them too, after having spent his fortune in your service. Meanwhile, other statesmen gain friends, and grow rich in their employ¬ ments, and are ^eek and merry m the steerage of govern ment.’’ In fact, the life of Nicias was a life of so much care, that he might have justly applied to himself that expression of Aga¬ memnon,— In vain the glare of pomp proclaims me master. I’m servant of the people.- Nicias perceived that the commons availed themselves of the services of those who were distinguished for their eloquence or capacity; but that they were always jealous, and on their guard, against their great abilities, and that they endeavoured to humble them, and to obstruct their progress in glory. This appeared in the condemnation of Pericles, the banishment of Damon, the suspicions they entertained of Antipho the Rham- nusian, but above all, in the despair of Paches, who had taken Lesbos, and who, being called to give an account of his con¬ duct, drew his sword and killed himself in open court. Warned by these examples, he endeavoured to avoid such expeditions as he thought long and difficult; and when he did take the command, he made it his business to proceed upon a sure plan. For this reason, he was generally successful; yet he ascribed his success to fortune, and took refuge under the wings of the divinity; contenting himself with a smaller por¬ tion of honour, lest envy should rob him of the whole. The event showed the prudence of his conduct. For, though the Athenians received many great blows in those times, none of them could oe imputed to Nicias. When the}; were defeated by the Chalcideans in Thrace, Calliades^ and Xenophon had the command; Demosthenes was general when they miscarried in Ailtolia; and when they lost a thousand mei: * Perhaps we should read Callias. See Menag. on Diog. Laert, ii, 45- NICIAS. 11 at Deliuin * * * § they were under the conduct of Hippocrates. As for the plague, it was commonly thought to be occasioned by Pericles; wno, to draw the burghers out l f the way of the war, shut them up in the city, where they contracted the sickness by the change of situation and diet. None of these misfortunes were imputed to Nicias. On the contrary, he took Cythera, an island well situated for annoy¬ ing Laconia, and at that time inhabited by Lacedaemon ans. He recovered many places in Thrace, which had revolted from the Athenians. He shut up the Megarensians within their walls, and reduced the island of Minoa. From thence he made an excursion soon after, and got possession of tlie port of Nisaea. He likewise made a descent upon the territories of Corinth, beat the troops of that state in a pitched battle, and killed great numbers of them: Lycophron, their general, was among the slain. He happened to leave there the bodies of two of his men, who were missed in carrying off the dead. But as soon as he knew it, he stopped his course, and sent a herald to the enemy, to ask leave to take away those bodies. This he did, though there was o law and custom subsisting, by which those who desire a treaty for carrying off the dead, give up the victory, and are not at liberty to erect a trophy. And indeed, thosc- who are so far masters of the field, that the enemy can not bury their dead, without permission, appear to the conquerors, be¬ cause no man would ask that as a favour, which he could com¬ mand. Nicias, however, chose rather to lose his laurels, than to leave two of his countrymen unburied.t After he had ravaged the coast of Laconia, and defeated thi Lacedaemonians, who attempted to oppose him, he took the fortress of Thyraea,J then held by the ^ginetae, made the gar¬ rison prisoners, and carried them to Athens. Demosthenes having fortified Pylos,§ the Peloponnesians besieged it both * Deliiim, in Boeotia. Delos, the common reading*, is undoubtedly wrong. Tins Athenians had no such loss there. But their defeat at Dciium is re¬ lated at large by Thucydides, 1. iv. f The burying of the dead was a duty of great importance in the heatlien vorld. The fable of iour for war. His next step was to give the Spartans hopes of an accom¬ modation, and to exhort them to propose such measures as might effect it. They readily confidea in him, because they knew the goodness of his heart; of which there was a late in stance in his humane treatment of their countrymen who were taken prisoners at Pylos, and who found their chains greatly lightened by his good offices. They had already agreed to a suspension of arms for one year; during which time they often met, and enjoyed again the pleasures of ease and security; the company of strangers as well as nearer friends; and expressed their mutual wishes for the continuance of a life undisturbed by the horrors of war. It was with great delight they heard the chorus in such strains this:— Arachne freely now has leave Her webs around my spear to weave. They recollected with pleasure the saying, That in time of peace men are awaked not by the sound of the trumpet, but the crowing of the cock.’^ They execrated those who said, it was decreed by fate that the war should last three times nine years;^ * “ I remember,” says Thucydides, “ That throughout the whole war, many maintained it was to last three times nine years. And if we reckon the first ten years of the wor the truce very short and ill observed that fol NICIAS* li Aiul this fres intercourse leading them to canvass every point, they at last signed the peace.^ It was now the general opinion that they were at the end oi all their troubles. Nothing was talked of but Nicias. He, they said, was a man beloved of the gods, who, in recompense of his piety, had thought proper that the greatest and most desirable of all blessings should bear his name. It is certain, they ascribed the peace to Nicias, as they did the war to Pen- cles. And, indeed, the one did plunge them upon slight pre¬ tences into numberless calamities, and the other persuaded them to bury the greatest of injuries in oblivion, and to unite again as friends, it is, therefore, called the Nician'\ peace to this very day. It was agreed in the articles, that both parties should restore the tovvns and the prisoners they had taken; and it was to be determined by lot which of them should do it first: but, ac¬ cording to Theophrastus, Nicias secured the lot hy dint of mo¬ ney, so that the Lacedaemonians were forced to lead the way. As the Corinthians and Boeotians were displeased at these pro¬ ceedings, and endeavoured, hy sowing jealousy between the contracting powers, to renew the war, Nicias persuaded the Athenians and Lacedaemonians to confirm the peace, and to support each other hy a league offensive and defensive. This he expected would intimidate those who were inclined to fly off. During these transactions, Alcibiades at first made it his business privately to oppose the peace. For he was naturally disinclined to inaction, and was moreover offended at the Lace¬ daemonians, on account of their attachment to Nicias, and their neglect and disregard of him. But when he found this private opposition ineffectual, he took another method. In a little time he saw the Athenians did not look upon the Lacedaemonians with so obliging an 03^0 as before, because they thought them- vselves injured by the alliance which their new friends had en¬ tered into with the Boeotians, and because they had not deliver¬ ed up Panactus and Amphipolis in the condition they found them. He therefore dwelt upon these points, and endeavoured to inflame the people^s resentment. Besides, he persuaded, and at last prevailed upon the republic of Argos, to send an embassy, for the purpose of negociating a treaty with the Athe¬ nians. lowed it, the treaties ill executed, and the war that w'as renewed thereupon, we shall find the oracle fully justified by the event.”— Thiicyd. 1. v. * Peace for fifty years was agreed upon and signed the year following; but it was soon broken again. j" The word in the original is Nm«;cv, which is equivalent to trophy \s much as to say, it was tlie trophv, or the master-pieo#^ of Nicias. 16 NICIAS. \^^hen the Lacedaemonians had intelligence of this, they sen ambassadors to Athens with full powers to settle all matters in dis])ute. These plenipotentiaries were introduced to the senate, and their proposals seemed perfectly just and reasonable. Al- cibiades, upon this, fearing they would gain the people by the same overtures, circumvented them Ijy y^erfidious oaths and asseverations, promising, “ he would secure the success of theii commission, it they would not declare that they came with full powers; and assuring them that no other method would be so effectual.’^ They gave credit to his insinuations, and went over from Nicias to him. Upon introducing them to the people, the first question ho asked them w^as,—Whether they came with full powers?’^ They denied it, as they were instructed. Then Alcibiades, beyond all their expectation, changing sides, called the senate to bear witness to tneir former declarations, and desired the people,—^^Not to give the least credit or attention to such manifest y3revaricators, who upon the same point asserted one thing one day, and another thing the next.^^ Their confusion was inexpressible, as may well be imagined, and Nicias was struck dumb with grief and astonishment. The people of course sent immediately for the deputies of Argos, to conclude the treaty with them. But at that very moment there happened a slight shock of an earthquake, which, favourably for Nicias, broke up the assembly. Next day they assembled again; and Nicias, by exerting all his powers, with much difficulty prevailed upon them not to put the last hand to the league with Argos; but, instead of that, to send him to Sparta,* wmere he assured them all would be well. When he arrived there, he was treated with great re spect, as a man of honour, and one who had shown that repub¬ lic great friendship. However, as the party that favoured the Boeotians was the strongest, he could effect nothing,! He re¬ turned, therefore, not only with disrepute and disgrace, but was ajiprehensive of worse consequences from the Athenians, who were greatly chagrined and provoked, that, at his persua¬ sion, they had set free so many prisoners, and prisoners of such distinction. For those brought from Pylos were of the first families in Sparta, and had connections with the greatest personages there. Notwithstanding this, they did not express their resentment in any act of severity; they only elected AU cibiades general, and took the Mantmeans and Eleans, whc iiad quitted the Lacedaemonian interest, into league with them, * There were others joined in commission with him. \ Nicias insisted tliat the Spartans should renounce their alliance with the Boeotians, because they had not acceded to the peace. NICIAS. 17 ilong witii the Argives. They then sent a marauding ])artv to Pylos, from thence to make excursions into Laconia. Tl ui Ihe war broke out afresh. As the quarrel between Nicias and Alcibiades rose daily to a greater neight, the ostiacism was proposed. To this the people have recoi rse at certain periods, and by it they expel for ten years any one who is suspected for his authority, or envied for his wealth. Both parties were greatly alarmed at the danger, not doubting that it would fall to the lot of one of them. The Athenians detested the life and manners of Alci¬ biades, and at the same time they dreaded his enterprising spirit; as we have related more at large in his life. As for Nicias, his riches exposed him to envy, and the rather, be¬ cause there was nothing social or popular in his manner of living; on the contrary, his recluse turn seemed owing to an inclination for oligarchy, and perfectly in a foreign taste. Be¬ sides, he had combated their opinions, and by making them pursue their own interest against their inclination, was of course become obnoxious. In one word, the whole was a dis¬ pute between the young, who wanted war, and the old, who were lovers of peace. The former endeavoured to make the ostracism fall upon Nicias, and the latter on Alcibiades: But in seditions bad men rise to honour. The Athenians being divided into two factions, the subtilest and most profligate of wretches gained ground. Such was Hyperbolus of the wa^’d of Perithois; a man whose boldness was not owing to any tvell-grounded influence, but whose in¬ fluence was owing to his boldness; and who disgraced the citv by the credit he had acquired. This wretch had no appre hensions of banishment by the honourable suffrage of the os¬ tracism, because he knew himself fitter for a gibbet. Hoping, however, that if one of these great men were banished, l?e should be able to make head against the other, he dissembled not his joy at this spirit of party, but strove to exasperate the people against both. Nicias and Alcibiades, taking notice'of liis malice, came to a private interview, in which they agreed to unite their interests; and by that means avoided the ostra cism themselves, and turned it upon Hyperbolus. At first the people were pleased, and laughed at the strange turn things had taken; but upon recollection, it gave them great jineasiness to think that the ostracism was dishonoured by its failing upon a person unworthy of it. They were persua'^d there was a dignity in that punishment; or rather, that to such men as Thucydides and Aristides it was a punishment; where¬ as to Hyperbolus it was an honour which he might bo nroud VoL. ITT.- C 2^ 18 NTCUS. of, since his profligacy had put him Ihe :'ame list wiih the greatest pa triots. Hence Plato, the comic poet, thus speaks of him:—doubt, his crimes deserved chastisement, but a very different chastisement from that which he received. 1'lie shell was not designed for such wretches as he.’^ In fact, no one afterwards was banished by it. He was tlie last, and Hipparchus the Cholargian, relation of the tyrant, was the first. From this event it appears how intricate are the ways of fortune, how incomprehensible to human reason. Had Nicias run the risk of the ostracism, he would either have ex¬ pelled Alcibiades, and lived afterwards in his native citv in full security; or if it had been carried against him, and he "had been forced to retire, he would have avoided the impending stroke of misery, and preserved the reputation of a wise and experienced general. I am not ignorant, that Theophrastus says. Hyperbolus was banished in the contest between Phaeax and Alcioiades, and not in that wuth Nicias. But most histo¬ rians give it as above related. About this time the ATigesteans and Leontines sent an em¬ bassy, to desire the Athenians to undertake the Sicilian expe dition. Nicias opposed it, but was overruled by the address and ambition of Alcibiades. Indeed, Alcibiades had previous¬ ly gained the assembly by his discourses, and corrupted the people to such a degree with vain hopes, that the young men, in their places of exercise, and the old men, in the shops and other places where they conversed, drew plans of Sicily, and exhibited the nature of its seas, with all its ports and bearings on the side next Africa. For they did not consider Sicily as the reward of their operations, but only as a place of arms, from whence they were to go upon the conquest of Carthage; nay, of all Africa, and to malce themselves masters of the seas within the Pillars of Hercules. While they were so intent upon this expedition, Nicias had not many on his side, either among the commons or nobility, to oppose it. For the rich, fearing it might be thought they were afraid to serve in person, or to be at the expense of fit’ ting out men of war, sat silent, contrary to their better judg¬ ment. Nicias, however, opposed it indefatigably; nor did he give up his point after the decree was passed for the war, and b(j was elected general along with Alcibiades and Lamachus, and his name first in the suffrages. In the first assembly that was held after that, he rose to dissuade them, and to protest against their proceedings. In conclusion, he attacked Alci¬ biades, for plunging the state in a dangerous and foreign war, merely with a view to his own emolument and fame. But his arguments had no effect. They thought a man of his experi¬ ence the fitter to conduct this enterprise; and that notnirig NICIaS 1 i coula corilribute more to its success^ ilian to un/te his eaulion with the fiery spirit of Alcibiades, and the boldness of Lama- chus."*^ Therefore, they were still more confirmed in their choice. Besides, Demostratus, who of all the orators took most pains to encourage the people to that war, rose and said, he would soon cut off all the excuses of Nicias; and immedi¬ ately he proposed and carried an order, that the generals should have a discretionary power to lay plans and put them in execution, both at home and abroad. It is said, indeed, that the priests strongly opposed the expe¬ dition. But Alcibiades had other diviners to set against them; and he gave it out that certain ancient oracles promised the Athenians great glory in Sicily. The envoys, too, who were sent to consult the oracle of Jupiter Ammon, returned with an answer, importing that the Athenians would take all the Syracusans. If any of the citizens knew of bad presages, they took care to conceal them, lest they should seem to pronounce any thing inauspicious of any enterprise which their countrymen had too much at heart. Nor would any warnings have availed, when they were not moved at the most clear and obvious signs. Such was the mutilation of the Hermae^'\ whose heads were all struck off in one night, except that which was called the Mer¬ cury of Andocides, and which had been consecrated by the tribe of Ege'is, before the door of the person just named. Such also was the pollution of the altar of the twelve gods. A man got astride upon it, and there emasculated himself with a stone. The temple of Delphi there was a golden statue of Pallas, which the Athenians had erected upon a palm-tree of brass, in commemoration of the victory over the Medes. The crows came and beaked it for several days, and pecked off the golden fruit of the tree. The Athenians, hov/ever, said, these were only fictions pro pagated at Delphi, at the instigation of the Syracusans. A cer¬ tain oracle ordered them to fetch a priestess of Minerva from Clazomeme; and when she came, tney found her name was * In the original it is t«v the mildness of Lamnehus. But iv is plain, that some quality of Lamachus should be here mentio led, which wanted to be qualified with the caution of Nicias; and mildness could not be that quality. A passage in the life of Alcibiades will help us to rectify the error in the text. Plutarch there speaking of Lamaches, says, Au.udi^oi nxiytia ’npoiKOiV, iS'etau «artacus, after this defeat, retired towards the mountains of Betelia; and Quintus, one of Crassus’s officers, and Scropha llie quaestor, maivhed after to harass his rear. But Spartacus MARCUS CRASSUS. 49 facing about, the Romans fled in the most dastardly manner, and With great difficulty, carried off the quaestor, who was wounded. This success was the ruin of Spartacus. It gave the fugitives such spirits, that they would no longer decline a decisive action, or be obedient to their officers; but as they were upon the road, addressed them with their swords in their hands, and insisted on marching back through Lucania, with the utmost expedition, to meet the Romans, and face Crassus in. the field. This w:as the very thing that Crassus desired. He was in¬ formed that Pompey was approaching; and of the many speeches to the people on occasion of the ensuing election, in which it was asserted, that this laurel belonged to him, and that as soon as he made his appearance, he would, by some decisive stroke, put an end to the war. Crassus, therefore, hastened to give that stroke himself, and with the same view, encamped near the enemy. One day, when he had ordered his soldiers to dig a trench, the gladiators attacked them as they were at work. Numbers came up con¬ tinually on both sides to support the combatants; and, at last, Spartacus, seeing what the case necessarily required, drew out nis whole army. When they brought him his horse, he drew his sword and killed him, saying at the same time,—If I prove victorious I shall have horses at command, if I am de¬ feated I shall have no need of this.’^ His aim was to find Crassus; and he made his way through showers of darts, and heaps of the slain. He did not, indeed, reach him, but he kill¬ ed, with bis own hand, two centurions who ventured to en¬ gage him. At last, those that seconded him fied. He, how¬ ever, still stood his ground, and, though surrounded by numbers, fought with great gallantry, till he was cut in pieces. Crassus, on this occasion, availed himself of every circum¬ stance with which fortune favoured him; he performed every act of generalship; he exposed his person in the boldest man¬ ner; yet he was only wreathing a laurel for the brows of Pom¬ pey. Pompey met, it seems, those who escaped out of the field, and put them to the sword. In consequence ol which, he wrote to the senate, That Crassus had, indeed, beaten the fugitive gladiators in a pitched battle; but that it was he who had cut up the war by the roots. Pompey, on his return to Rome, triumphed in a magnificent manner for his conquest of Sertorius and Spain. As for Cras¬ sus, he did not pretend to ask for the greater triumph; and * “ Lahore alieno magno pavtani gloriam Verbis saepe in se transmovet, nui liabet salein.” VoL. III.-Cl 5)0 MAKCUS CRASSUS. even the less, which is led up on foot, under the name uf* an ovation, seemed to have no propriety or decorum in the con¬ quest of fugitive slaves. In what respect this differs from the other, and whence the term ovation is derived, we have con¬ sidered in the life of Marcellus. I’ompey was immediately called to the consulship; and though Crassus had interest enough of his own to encourage liinrto hope for the same honour, yet he scrupled not to soli¬ cit his good offices. Pompey received tlie application with pleasure; for he was desirous, by all means, to have Crassu^ under an obligation to him.. He, therefore, readily espoused his cause; and, at last, when he made his speech to the people said,—He was as much indebted to them for the colleague they had given him, as for their favour to himself.’^ How¬ ever, the same good understanding did not long continue; they differed about almost every article that came before them; and those disputes and altercations prevented their doing any thing considerable during their whole consulship. The most remarkable thing was, that Crassus offered a great sacrifice to Hercules, entertained the people at ten thousand tables, and gave them a supply of bread-corn for three months. When they held one of the last assemblies before they quit¬ ted their charge, a Roinan knight, named Onatius Aurelius, who had spent most of his time in a retired manner in the country, and was a man of no great note, mounted the ros¬ trum, and gave the people on account of a vision that had ap¬ peared to him:—“ Jupiter,said he, ^"appeared to me in a dream, and commanded me to inform you in this public man¬ ner, that you are not to suffer the consuls to lay down their office, before thev Jtre reconciled.He had no sooner ended ins speech, than the people insisted that they should be re¬ conciled. Pompey stood without making any motion towards it, but Crassus went and offered him his hand:—I am not ashamed, my fellow-citizens,’^ said he, nor do I think it be¬ neath me, to make the first advances to Pompey, whom you distinguished with the name of Great^ while he was but a beardless youth, and whom you honoured with a triumph be¬ fore he was a senator.” , These were the only memorable things in the consulate of Crassus. As for his censorship, it passed without any thing worth mentioning.'^ He made no inquisition into the lives and manners of the senators; he did not review the equestrian order, or number the people. Lutatius Catulus, one of the best natured men in the world, was his colleague; and it is said, * He was censor six years after his consulsliip, sixty-three years before ^he birth of Christ. MARCUS CRASSUS. that when Crassiis wanted to adopt a violent and unjust mea¬ sure, 1 mean the makins; E^jypt tributary to Rome, Catulus strono;ly opposed it; and hence arose that difference; in conse¬ quence of wliich they resi 2 ;ned their charge. When the great conspiracy of Cataline, which brought ihe commonwealth to the verge of destruction, broke out, Crassus was suspected of liaving some concern in it. Nay, there was one who named him among the conspirators; but no own gave redit to his information.^ It is true, Cicero, in one of his orations, openly accuses both Crassus and Caesar of that crime But that oration did not appear in public till both those great men were dead. On the other hand, the same Cicero, in the oration he delivered relating to his consulship, expressly says, that Crassus camo to him one night, and put a letter in his hands, which showed the reality of the plot in which they were then inquiring. Be that as it may, it is certain that Crassus, after this, conceived thousand horse, which lie said were only his body-guard. He promised Crassus ten thousand more, armed at all points, and thirty thousand foot, all to be maintained at his own expense. At the same time he advised him to enter Parthia by way oi Armenia,—By that means,^’ said he, you will not only have plenty of provisions, v/hich I shall take care to supply vou with; but your march will be safe, as it will lie along a chain of mountains, and a country almost impracticable for cavalry, in which the Parthian strength consists.^^ Crassus leceived his tender of service and his noble offer of succours but coldly; and said,—^^He should m.arch through Mesopo¬ tamia, where he had left a number of brave Romans.^^ Upon this the Armenian bade him adieu, and returned to his own countrv. x\s Crassus was passing the Euphrates at Zeugma, he met with dreadful bursts of thunder, and lightnings flamed in the face of his troops. At the same time, the black clouds emtitted a hurricane mingrled with fire, which broke down and destroy- ed great part of his bridge. The place which he had marked out for a camp, was also twice struck witii lightning. One of the general’s war horses, richly caparisoned, running away with his rider, leaped into the river, and was seen no more. And it is said, when the foremost eagle v/as moved, in order for a march, it turned back of its own accord. Besides these ill tokens, it happened that w^hen the soldiers had their provi¬ sions distributed, after they had crossed the river, they \eere first served with lentiles and salt, which are reckoned ominous, and commonly placed upon the monuments of the dead. In a speech of Crassus to the army, an expression escaped him, which struck them all with horror. He said,—He had broke down the bridge that not one of them might return.” And when he ought, upon perceiving the impropriety of the ex¬ pression, to have recalled or exi) 1 ained it to the intimidated troops, his obstinacy would not permit him. To which we may add, that in the sacrifice offered for the lustration of the army, the aruspex having put the entrails in his hands, he let them fall. All that attended the cennnony were struck with astonishment; but he only said with a smile ,—‘‘ See what it h * In the text he is here called Artabases; but as Plutarch calls him \rta irasdes every where afterwards, we thoug-ht it proper to ])ut it so here, VoL. li],-H 58 MARCUS CRASSUS. to be old! My sword, however, shall not slip out of my hands in tills man nerd’ Immediately after this, he be£i;an his march alon^ the side ot the Euphrates with seven legions, near four thousand horse, and almost as many of the light armed; He had not gone far before some of his scouts returned, and told him thev had not found so much as one man in their excursions: but that there were many vestiges of cavalry, who appeared to ha^’e fled as if they had been pursued. Crassus now began to be more sanguine in his nopes, and t lie soldiers to hold the enemy in contempt, upon a supposition that they dui'st not stand an encounter. Nevertheless, Cas¬ sius addressed himself to the general again, and advised him, —“ To secure his troops in some fortified town, till he shouhl have some account of the enemy that might be depended upon If he did not choose that, he desired him to keep along the river till he reached Seleucia. For by this means he would be constantly supplied with provisions from the vessels that would follow his camp; and the river preventing his being sur¬ rounded, he would always have it in his power to fight upon equal terms.” While Crassus was weighing these counsels with much de¬ liberation, there arrived an Arabian chief named Ariamnes.^ This artful and perfidious man was the principal instrument of all the calamities which fortune was preparing for the ruin of Crassus. Some of his officers, who had served under Pompey, knew how much Ariamnes was indebted to that general’s fa¬ vour, and that in consequence he passed for a well-wisher to the Romans. But now, gained by the Parthian officers, he con¬ certed with them a scheme to draw Crassus from the river and the higher grounds into an immense plain, where he might easily be surrounded. For the enemy thought of nothing less than fighting a pitched battle with the Romans. This barbarian, then, addressing himself to Crassus, at first launched out into the praises of Pompey as his benefactor, for he was a voluble and artful speaker. Then he expressed his admiration of so fine an army, but withal took occasion to blame Crassus for his delays, and the time he spent in pre¬ paring; as if weapons, and not rather active hands and feet, weie required against a people, who had long been determined to retire with their most valuable effects, and with their fami¬ lies and friends, to the Scythians and Hyreanians. Or sup¬ pose you have to fight,” said he, you ought to hasten to the enco inter, before the king recovers his spirits, and collects all his forces. At present he has only sent out Surena and SiJ * A-ppian and Dion (’assius call him Aebams or Ag'barus. MARCUS CRASSUS. ^'ices to amuse you, and to prevent your pursuit oi himself" For his j^art, he will take care not to appear in the field." This story was false in every circumstance; for Orodes had divided his army into two parts; with one oi which he was ravaging Armenia, to wreak his vengeance upon Artavasdes; Surena was left with the other, to make head against the Ro¬ mans. Not that the king, as some will have it, had any con¬ tempt for the Romans; for Crassus, one of the most powerful men Rome had produced, was not an antagonist wlmm he should despise, and think it a fairer field of honour to go and fight with Artavasdes, and lay waste Armenia. On the con¬ trary, it is highly probable, it was his apprehensions of danger which made him keep at a distance, and watch the rising event; in order to which he sent Surena before him, to make trial of the enemy’s strength, and to amuse them with his stratagems. For Surena was no ordinary person; but in fortune, family, and honour, the first after the king; and in point of courage and capacity, as well as in size and beauty, superior to the Par- thians of his time. If he went only upon an excursion' into the country, he had a thousand camels to carry his liaggage, and two hundred carriages for his concubines. He was attend¬ ed by a thousand heavy-armed horse, and many more of tlte light-armed rode before him. Indeed, his vassals and slaves made up a body of cavalry little less than ten thousand. He had the hereditary privilege in his family, to put the diadem upon the king’s head when he was crowned. When Orodes was driven from the throne, he restored him; and it was he who conquered for him the great city of Seleucia, being the first to scale the wall, and beating off the enemy with his own hand. Though he was then not thirty years old, his discern¬ ment was strong, and his counsel esteemed the best. These were the talents by which he overthrew Crassus, who laid him¬ self open to his arts, first by a too sanguine confidence, and afterwards by his fears and depression under misfortunes. When Crassus had listened to the lure of Ai iamnes, and left the river to march into the plain, the traitor led him away that was smooth and easy at first; but after a while it became extremely difficult, by reason of the deep sands in which he had to wade, and the sight of a vast desert^ without wood or water, which afforded no prospect of repose or hope of re¬ freshment. So that his troops were ready to give out, not only through thirst and the difficulty of the march, but through the comfortless and melancholy view before them of a country where there was neither tree nor stream to be seen, no hill to shelter them, no green herb growing, but the billows of an im mouse sea of sand surrounding the whole army. These things gave them sufficient reason to suspect they 60 MARCUS CRASSUS. were betrayed; but when the envoys of Artavasdes arrivcd^ there was no room to doubt it. That prince informed Cras- sus ,—‘‘ That Orodes had invaded his Kingdom with a great army, so that now he could send the Romans no succours. Therefore, he advjJ^ed them to march towards Armenia, where, with tlieir united forces, they might give Orodes bat¬ tle. If Crassus did not relish this advice, he conjured him at jcast never to encamp upon any ground favourable to the cavalry, but to keep close to the mountains.^’ Crassus, in Ids resentment and infatuation, would send no answer in writing; he only said,—He was not at leisure now to think of the Armenians, but by and by he would come and chastise their king for his perfidiousness.’’ Cassius was again extremely chagrined, but would not make any more remonstrances to the general, who was already offended at the liberty he had taken. He applied, however, to the barbarian in priv'ate, in such terms as these:—0 thou vilest of impostors, what ma¬ levolent demon has brought thee amongst us? By what potions, by what enchantments, hast thou prevailed upon Crassus to pour his army into this vast, this amazing desert; a march more fit for a Numidian robber than for a Roman general?” The barbarian, who had art enough to adapt himself to all occasions, humbled himself to Cassius, and encouraged him to hold out and have patience only a little longer. As for the soldiers, he rode about the ranks under a pretence of fortify¬ ing them against their fatigues, and made use of several taunt¬ ing expressions to them:—What,” said he, do you imagine that you are marching through Campania? Do you exjiect tlie fountains, the streams, the shades, the baths, the houses of le- freshment you meet with there? And will you never remem¬ ber that you are traversing the barren confines of the Ara¬ bians and Assyrians?” Thus the traitor admonished, or rather insulted the Romans, and got off at last before his imposture was discovered. Nor was this without the general’s know¬ ledge; he even persuaded him then, that he was going upon some scheme to put the enem}^ in disorder. It it said, that Crassus on that day did not appear in a pur¬ ple robe, such as the Roman generals used to wear, but in a l)lack one; and when he perceived his mistake, he went and changed it Some of the standards too were so rooted in the ground, that they could not be moved without the greatest ef¬ forts. Crassus only laughed at the omen, and y.astened his march the more, making the foot keep up with the cavalry. Meantime the remains of a reconnoitring party returned, with an account that their comrades were killed by tlie Parthians, and that they had escaped with great difficulty At the. same MARCUS CRASSUs. fil tune they assinea him, that the enemy was advancing Avith very numerous forces, and in the highest spirits. This intelligence spread great dismay among the troops, and Crassus was the most terrified of all. In his confusion he had scarce understanding enough about him to draw up his army properly. At first, agreeably to the opinion of Cassius, he ex¬ tended the front of his infantry so as to occupy a great space of ground, to prevent their being surrounded, and distributeo the cavalry in the wings. But soon altering his mind, he drew up tl e legions in a close square, and made a front every way, each front consisting of twelve cohorts. Every cohort had [ts trjop of horse allotted it, that no part might remain im- §upported by the cavalry, but that the whole miglit advance with equal security to the charge. One of the wings was given to Cassius, the other to young Crassus, and the general placed himself in the centre. In this order they moved forward, till they came to a river called Balissus, which in itself was not considerable, but the sight of it gave great pleasure to the soldiers, as well on ac¬ count of their heat and thirst, as the fatigues of a march through a dry and sandy desert. Most of the officers were of opinion that they ought to pass the night there, and after having got the best intelligence they could of the number of the enemy and theii’ order, advance against them at break of day. But Crassus, carried away by the eagerness of his son, and of the cavalry about him, who called upon him to lead them to the charge, commanded those who wanted refresh¬ ment to take it as they stood in the ranks. Before they liad all done, he began his march, not leisurely, and with proper pauses, as is necessary in going to battle, but with a quick and continued pace, till they came ui sight of the enemy, wdio appeared neither so numerous nor so formidable as they had expected. For Surena had concealed his main force behind the advanced guard, and to prevent their being discoAmred by the glittering of their armour, he had ordered them to cover it vvith their coats or with skins. When both armies were near enough to engage, and the ge¬ nerals had given the signal, the field resounded with a horrid din and dreadful bellowing. For the Parthians do not excite their men to action with cornets and trumpets, but wuth certain hollo V instruments covered with leather, and surrounded with brass bells which they beat continually. The sound is deep and d saial, something between the howling of wild beasts and the clasning of thunder; and it was from sage reflection thev had adented it, having observed, that of all the senses, that of hearing soonest disturbs the mind, agitates the passions, and •jnhinges the understanding. VoL. Ill () 62 MARCUS CRASSUS. While the Eomans were trembling at the horrid noise, the Parthians suddenly uncovered their arms, and appeared like l)attalions of fire, with the gleam of their breast-plates and their helmets of Margian steel polished to the greatest perfec¬ tion. Their cavalry too, completely armed in brass and steel shed a lustre no less striking. At the head of them appeared Surena, tall and well made; but his feminine beauty did not promise such courage as he was possessed of. For he was dressed in the fashion of the Medes, with his face painted, and his hair curled and equally parted; while the rest of the Par¬ thians wore their hair in great disorder, like the Scythians, to make themselves look more terrible. At first, the barbarians intended to have charged with their pikes, and opened a way through the foremost ranks; but when they saw the depth of Ihe Roman battalions, the closeness of their order, and the firmness of tlieir standing, they draw back, and, under the appearance of breaking their ranks and dis- jiersing, wheeled about and surrounded the Romans. At that instant Crassus ordered his archers and light infantry to begin the charge. But they had not gone far, before they Vv^ere sa¬ luted with a shower of arrows, which came with such force, and did so much execution, as drove them back upon the bat¬ talions. This was the beginning of disorder and consterna¬ tion among the heavv-armed, when thev belield the force and strength of the arrows, against which no armour was proot, and whose keenness nothing could resist. The Parthians nov’ separated, and began to exercise their artillery upon the Ro¬ mans on all sides at a considerable distance; not needing to take any exact aim, by reason of the closeness and depth of the square in which their adversaries were drawn up. Their bows were large and strong, yet capable of bending till the arrows were drawn to the head; the force they went with was consequently very great, and the wounds they gave mortal. The Romans were now in a dreadful situation. If they stood still, they were pierced through; if they advanced, they could make no reprisals, and yet were sure to meet their fate. For the Parthians shoot as they fly; and this they do with dexterity inferior only to the Scythians. It is indeed an ex¬ cellent expedient, because they save themselves by retiring, and, by fighting all the while, escape the disgrace of flight. While the Romans had any hopes that the Parthians would spend all their arrows and quit the combat, or else advance hand to hand, \hey bore their distresses with patience. But as soon as it was perceived, that behind the enemy there was a number of camels loaded with arrows, from whence the first ranks, after they emptied their quivers, wei*e supplied, Crassus, seeing no end to his sufferings, was greatly distressed. MARCLS CRASSUS. 63 Tlic step he to'ok, was to send orders to his son to gel vip ith the enemy, and charge them, if possible, before he was quite surrounded; for it was principally against him that one wing of the Parthian cavalry directed their eiibrts, in hopes of taking him in the rear. Upon this, the young man took thirteen hundred horse, of which those he had from Caesar made a thousand, five hundred archers, and eight cohorts of infantry which were next at hand, and wheeled about to come to the charge. However, the Parthians, whether it was that they w’ere afraid to meet a detachment that came against them in such good order, which some say was the case; or whether they wanted to draw young Crassus as far as they possibly could from his father, turned their backs and fled.^ The young man cried out,—They dare not stand us,’^ and follow¬ ed at full speed. So did Censorious and Megabacchus;t the latter a man noted for his strength and courage, and the for¬ mer a person of senatorial dignity, and an excellent orator. Both were intimate friends of young Crassus, and nearly of his age. The cavalry kept on, and such was the alacrity and spirit of hope with which the infantry were inspired, that they were not left behind; for they imagined they were only pursuing a conquered enemy. But they had not gone far before they found how much they were deceived. The pretended fugi¬ tives faced about, and, many others joining them, advanced to the encounter. The Romans, upon this, made a stand, sup¬ posing the enemy would come to close quarters with them, because their number was but small. The Parthians, how^- evcr, only formed a line of their heavy-armed cavalry oppo¬ site their adversaries, and then ordered their irregulars to gal¬ lop round, and beat up the sand and dust in such a manner, that the Romans could scarce either see or speak for the clouds of it. Besides, the latter were drawn up in so small a com¬ pass, and pressed so close upon each other, that they were a very fair mark for the enemy. Their death, too, was linger¬ ing. They rolled about in agonies of pain, with the arrows sticking in them, and before they died, endeavoured to pull out the barbed points which were entangled within their veins and sinews; an effort that served only to enlarge their wounds and add to their torture. * It was their common metliod, not to stand a pitched battle with troopi that were in any degree their match. In retreating* and advancing*, as oc¬ casion required, they knew the advantag'e they had in the swiftness of theii horses, and in tlm excellence of their archers. t It is not easy to say what the Roman name Meg*abacchus could be tlie corruption of. Xylander tells us, he found in an old translation, Cnei. Plaii' nus. Probably that translator might have the authority of some manuscript. MARCUS CRASSUS. m Many died in this miserable manner, and those who suf vived were not fit for action. When Publius^ desired them to attack the heavy-armed cavalry, they showed him theii hands nailed to their shields, and their feet fastened to the ground, so that they could neither fight nor.fly. He, there¬ fore, encouraged his cavalry, and advanced with great vigour to the charge. But the dispute was by no means upon an equality? either in respect of attack or defence. For his men liad only weak and short javelins to attempt the Parthian cui¬ rasses, which were made either of raw hides or steel; while the enemy’s strong pikes could easily make an impression upon the naked or light-armed Gauls. These were the troops in which he placed his chief confidence; and, indeed, he worked wonders with them. They laid hold on the pikes of the bar¬ barians, and grappling with them, pulled them from their horses, and threw them on the ground, where they could scarce stir, by reason of the weight of their armour. Many of them even quitted their own horses, and getting under those of the Parthians, wounded them in the belly; upon which the horses, mad with pain, plunged and threw their riders, and treading them under foot along with the enemy, at last fell down dead upon both. What went hardest against the Gauls, was heat and thirst, for they had not been accustomed to either. And they lost most of their horses, by advancing furiously against the enemy’s pikes. They had now no resource, but to retire to their infantry, and to carry off young Crassus, who was much wounded. But iiappening to see a hill of sand by the way, they retired to it; and having placed their horses in the middle, they locked their shields together all round, imagining that would prove the best defence against the barbarians. It happened, however, quite otherwise. While they were upon plain ground, the foremost ranks afforded some shelter to those behind; but upon an eminence, the unevenness of the ground showed one above another; and those behind, higher than those before, so that there was no chance for nay of them to escape; they fell promiscuously, lamenting their inglorious fate, and the inj- possibility of exerting themselves to the last. Young Crassus had with him two Greeks, named Hierony¬ mus and Nichomachus, who had settled in that country, in tne town of Carrie. These advised him to retire with them, and lo make his escape to Ischnse, a city which had adopted the Roman interests, and was at no great distance. But he an¬ swered,—There war no death, however dreadful, the fear of which could make him leave so many brave men dying for his * Voung* ^^assiis. MARCUS CRASUS. J sake/^ At the same time he desired them to save them* ..ves, and then embraced and dismissed them. As his own hand was transfixed with an arrow, and he could not use it, he offered his side to his armour-bearer, and ordered him to strike the blow. Censorious is said to have died in the same mannei*. As for Megabacchus, he despatched himself with his own band, and the other principal officers followed his example. The rest fell by the Parthian pikes, after they had defended themselves gallantly to the last. The enemy did not make above five hundred prisoners. When they had cut off the head of young Crassus, they marched with it to his father, whose affairs were in tiiis pos¬ ture. After he had ordered his son to charge the Parthians, news was brought him that they fled with great precipitation, and that the Romans pursued them with equal vivacity. He perceived, also, that on bis side the enemy^s operations were comparatively feeble; for the greatest part of them were then gone after his son. Hereupon he recovered his spirits in some degree, and drew his forces back to some higher ground, expecting every moment his son^s return from the pursuit. Publius had sent several messengers to inform him of his danorer: but the first had fallen in with the barbarians, and were cut in pieces; and the last, having escaped with great dif¬ ficulty, told him his son was lost, if he had not large and im¬ mediate succours. Crassus was so distracted by different pas¬ sions, that he could not form any rational sclieme. On the one hand, he was afraid of sacrificing the whole army, and on the other, anxious for the preservation of his son; but at kist he resolved to march to his assistance. Meantime, the enemy advanced with loud shouts and songs of victory, which made them appear more terrible; and all the drums bellowing again in the ears of the Romans, gave the notice of another engagement. ‘ The Parthians coming for¬ ward with the head of Publius upon a spear, demanded, in the most contemptuous manner, whether they knew the fiimily and parents of the young man. For,’’ said they, “ it is not possible that so brave and gallant a youth should be son of Crassus, the greatest dastard, and the meanest wretch in the world.” This spectacle broke the spirits of the Romans more than all the calamities they had met with. Instead of exciting them to revenge, as might have been expected, it produced a horror and tremor which ran through the whole army. Neverthe¬ less, Crassus, on this melancholy occasion, behaved with greaU ermagnanimitv than he had ever shown before. He marched up and down the ranks, and cjied,—Romans, this loss is mine. The fortunes and glorv oi* Rome stand safe and undi- VoL. HI.-T ' MARCUS CRASSUS. minished in you. If you have any pity for me, who am be reared of the best of sons, show it in your resentment against (he enemy. Put an end to their triumph; avenge their cruel¬ ty. Be not astonished at this loss; they must alwavs have sometliing to suffer, who aspire to great things. Lucuilus dia not pull down Tigranes, nor Scipio Antiochus, without some expense of blood. Our ancestors lost a thousand ships before they reduced Sicily, and many great officers and generals in Iiaiy; hut no previous loss prevented their subduing the con¬ querors. For it was not by her good fortune, but by the per¬ severance and fortitude with which she combated adversity, that Rome has risen to her present height of power.^^ Crassus, though he thus endeavoured to animate his troops, did not find many to listen to him with pleasure. He was sensible their depression still continued, when he ordered th.em to shout for the battle; for their shout was feeble, lan¬ guid, and unequal, while that of the barbarians was bold and strong. When the attack began, the light-armed cavalry, taking the Romans in flank, galled them with their arrows; while the heavy-armed, charging them in front with their pikes, drove them into a narrow space. Some, indeed, to avoid a more painful death from the arrows, advanced with the resolution of despair, but did not do much execution. All the advantage they had was, that they were speedily despatched by the large wounds they received from the broad heads of the enemy’s strong pikes, which they pushed with such vio¬ lence, that they often pierced through two men at once.^ The fight continued in this manner all day; and when the barbarians came to retire, they said,—They would give Cras¬ sus one night to bewail his son; if he did not in the meantime consider better, and rather choose to go and surrender himself to Arsaces than be carried.” Then they sat down near the Roman army, and passed the night in great satisfaction, hoping 10 finish the affair the next day. It was a melancholy and dreadful night to the Romans. They took no care to bury the dead, nor any notice of the ivounded, many of whom were expiring in great agonies. Every man had his own fate to deplore. That fate ap])eared inevitable, whether they remained where they vnere or threw tliemselves in the night into that boundless plain. They found a great objection too against retiring, in the wounded; who would retard their flight, if they attempted to carry them off, and alarm the enemy with their cries, if they were lefi behind. • n'liere is nothing* incredible in this, for it is frequently done by the 'far tills in t)\e same mnde of fighting* at tills day. MARCUS CRASSUS. 67 ‘ As for Crasj^us, thouo;h they believed him the cause of all their miseries, they wanted him to make his appearance and sjjcak to them. But he had covered his head, chosen dark¬ ness for his companion, and stretched himself upon the ground, A sad example to the vulgar of the instability of fortune; and to men of deeper thought, of the effects of rashness and ill- placed ambition. Not contented with being the first and great¬ est among many millions of men, he had considered himself in a mean light, because there were two above him. Octavius, one of his lieutenants, and Cassias, endeavoured to raise him from the ground, and console him, but hmnd that he gave himself entirely up to despair. They then, by their own authority, summoned the centurions and other officers to a council of war, in which it was resolved that they should retire. Accordinglv thev began to do so without sound ol trumpet, and silently enough at first. But when the sick and wounded perceived tliat they were going to be deserted, their doleful cries and lamentations filled the whole army with con¬ fusion and disorder. Still greater terror seized them as they proceeded, the foremost troops imagining that those behind Vv^ere enemies. They often missed their way, often stopped to put themselves in some order, or to take some of the wounded off the beasts of burden, and put others on.—By these things they lost a great deal of time; insomuch that Ignatius only, who made the best of his way with three hundred horse, ar¬ rived at Carrse about midnight. He saluted the guards in Latin, and when he perceived they heard him., he bid them go and tell Coponius, who commanded there, that Crassus had fought a great battle with the Parthians. Then, without ex¬ plaining himself farther, or acquainting them who he was, he made off as fast as possible to Zeugma; by which means he saved himself and his troop; but at the same time, was much blamed for deserting ids general. However, Crassus found his advantage in the hint given to Coponius. That officer, considering that the hurry and con¬ fusion with which the message was delivered, betokened no good, ordered his men to arm; and as soon as he was apprized that Crassus was marching that way, he went out to meet him, and conducted his army into the town. Tliough the Parthians in the night perceived the flight of the Romans, they did not pursue them; but at break of day (hey fell upon those that were left in the camp, and despatcherl ibein, to the number of four thousand. The cavalry also pick¬ ed up many others who were straggling upon the plain. One of the Roman officers, named Varguntinus, had waiulered in the night from the main body with four cohorts, was found iu!xt morning posted upon a hill. The barbarians surrounded 68 MARCUS CRASSUS. the little corps, and killed them all except twenty men. The£a made their way through the enemy, sword in hand, who le. them pass, and they arrived sate at Carrse. A rumour was now brought to Surena, that Crassus with the best of his officers and troops had escaped, and tliat tliose who had retired into Carrse, were only a mixed multitude no) worth his notice. He was afraid, therefore, that he had losi the fruits of his victory; but not being absolutely certain, he w'anted better information, in order to determine whether he should besiege Carrae, or pursue Crassus, wherever he might have fled. For this purpose he des])atched an interpreter to the walls, who was to call Crassus or Cassius in Latin, and tell them that Surena demanded a conference. As soon as the bu-siness of the interpreter was made known to Crassus, he ac¬ cepted the proposal. And not long after, certain Arabians ar¬ rived from the same quarter, who knew Crassus and Cassius well, having been in the Roman camp before the battle. These seeing Cassius upon the walls, told him,—Surena was ready to conclude a peace with them, on condition they would be upon terms of friendship with the king his master, and give up Mesopotamia: for he thought this more advantageous to both, than coming to extremities.’^ Cassius embraced the overture, and demanded that the time and place might be fix¬ ed for an interview between Surena and Crassus; which the Arabians undertook for, and then rode off. Surena, delighted to find that the Romans were in a place where they miglit be besieged, led his Parthians against them the next day. These barbarians treated them with great inso lence, and told them, if they wanted either peace or truce, they might deliver up Crassus and Cassius bound. The Ro¬ mans, greatly afflicted at finding themselves so imposed upon, told Crassus he must give up his distant and vain hopes of suc¬ cour from the Armenians, and resolve upon flight. .This reso¬ lution ought to have been concealed from all the inhabitants of Carrae till the moment it was put in execution. But Cras- .sus revealed it to Andromachus, one of the most perfidious amongst them, whom he also chose for his guide. From this traitor the Parthians learned every step that was taken. As it was not their custom, nor consequently very practica b!e for them to P.ght in the niglit, and it was in the night that Crassus marched out, Andromachus contrived tliat they might not be far behind. With this view he artfully led the Romans sometimes one way, sometimes another, and at last entangled thorn among deep marshes and ditches, where it was difficult to get either forward or backward. There were sew^ral who conjectured from this shifting and turning, that Andromachus ha l some ill design, and therefore refused to fo low him an} MARCUS CRASSUS. 69 iarther. As for Cassius he returned to Carrge; and when nis guides, who were Arabians, advised him to wait till the moon had passed the Scorpion, he answered.—I am more afraid of the ^agittary.^ Then making the best of his way he got into Assyria with five hundred horse. Others, finding faithful guides, reached the mountains of Sinnaca, and were perfect!v secure before it was light. These, about five thousand in number, w^ere under the conduct of Octavius, a man of great merit and honour. Meant!IX e, day overtook Crassus, while, through the treache¬ ry of Andromachus, he was wandering in bogs and other im ¬ practicable ground. He had with him ordy four cohorts ot infantry, a very small number of horse, and five lictofs. At length he regained the road with much labour and difficulty; but by this time the enemy was coming up. He w^as not above twelve furlongs behind the corps under Uctaylus. However, as he could not join him, all he could do was, to retire to a hill, not so secure against cavalry as Sinnaca, but situated under those mountains, and connected with them by a long ridge which ran through the plain. Octavius, therefore, could see the danger Crassus was in, and he immediately ran down with a small band to his assistance. Upon this the rest, re¬ proaching themselves for staying behind, descended from the weights, and falling upon the Parthians, drove them from the hill. Then .they tooK Crassus in the midst of them, and fencing him with their shields, boldly declared, that no Par¬ thian arrow should touch their general while any of them were left ali ve. Surena now perceiving that the Parthians were less vigor¬ ous in their attacks, and that if night came on, and the Romans gained the mountains, they would be entirely out of his reach, formed a stratagem to get Crassus into his hands. He dis¬ missed some of his prisoners, after they had heard the conver¬ sation of the Parthian soldiers, who had been instructed to say> that the king did not want perpetual war with the Ro¬ mans, but had rather renew the friendship and alliance by his generous treatment of Crassus. After this manoeuvre, the barbarians withdrew from the combat, and Surena, with a few ol' his principal officers, advancing gently to the hill, where he unstrung his bow, and offering his hand, invited Crassus to an agreement. He said,—The king has hitherto, contrary to fiis inclinations, given proofs of his po^ver, but now he would with pleasure show his moderation and clemency, in coming to tei ms with the Romans, and suffering them to depai'i iii peace.’^ * Alluding to the Partiruin urchers. 0 MARCUS CRASSUS. The troops received this proposal ot Surena with joy. Bill Crassus, whose errors had all been owing to the Parthian treachery and deceit, and thought this sudden change in then behaviour a very suspicious circumstance, did not accept the overture, but stood deliberating. Hereupon the soldiers raisev a great outcry and bade him go down. Then they proceeded to insults and reproaches, telling him,—He was very willing to expose them to the weapons of the Parthians, but did not dare to meet them himself, when they had laid down the r arms, and wanted only a friendly conference.^^ At first he had recourse to entreaties, and represented, that if they would but hold out the remainder of the day, they might in the night gain the mountains and rocks, which would be inaccessible to cavalry. At the same time, he pointed to the way, and begged of them not to forego the hopes of safe¬ ty, when they had it so near. But when he found they re¬ ceived his address with anger, and clashing their arms in a menacing manner, he was terrified, and began to go; only turn¬ ing round a moment to speak these few words:—You Octa¬ vius, and you Petronius, and all you Roman officers that are present, are witnesses of the necessity I am under to take this step, and conscious of the dishonour and violence I suffer. But, when you are safe, pray tell the world that I was deceiv¬ ed by the enemy, and not that I was abandoned by my coun¬ trymen.’’ However, Octavius and Petronius would not stay behind: t hey descended the hill with him. PI is lictors, too, would have followed, but he sent them back. The first persons that met him, on the part of the barbarians, were two Greeks of the half breed. They dismounted and made Crassus a low reverence, and addressing him in Greek, desired he would send some of his people to see that Surena and his company came unarmed, and without any weapons concealed about them. Crassus answered,—That if his life had been of any account with him, he should not have trusted himself in their hands.” Nevertheless, he sent two brothers of the name ol Roscius, before him, to inquire upon what footing, and how many of each side were to meet. Surena detained those mes¬ sengers, and advanced in person with his principal officers on horseback. What is this,” said he, I behold? A Roman g(‘neral on foot, when we are on horseback?” Then he order¬ ed a horse to be brought for him. But Crassus ans\vered,— There was no error on either side, since each came to treat after the manner of his country.”—Then,” said Surena, from this moment there shall be peace and an alliance be¬ tween Orodes and the Romans; but the treaty must be signed apon the banks of the Eupnrates; for you Romans remembei MAKCUS CRASSUS. 71 your aj^reemen'ts very ill/’ Then he olFerew him his hand; and when Crassus would have sent for a horse, he told him.—. There was no need; the king would supply him with one.” At the same time, a horse was brought with furniture of gold, and the equerries having mounted Crassus, began to drive him forward. Octavius then laid hold on the bridle, in which lie was followed by Petronius, a legionary tribune. Afterwaialw ♦he rest of the Romans who attended, endeavoured to stop the horse, and to draw off those who pressed upon Crassus on each side. A scuffle and tumult ensued, which ended in blows. Thereupon Octavius drew his sword, and killed one of the Parthian grooms; and another coming behind Octavius, des¬ patched him. Petronius, who had no arms to defend him, received a stroke on his breast-plate, but leaped from his horse unwounded. Crassus was killed by a Parthian named Po maxiethres;^ though some say, another despatched him, and Pomaxaethres cut off his head and right hand. Indeed, all these circumstances must be rather from conjecture than knowledge. For part of those who attended, were slain in attempting to defend Crassus, and the rest had run up the hilJ on the first alarm. After this, the Parthians went and addressed themselves to the troops at the top. They told them Crassus had met with the reward his injustice deserved; but, as for them, Surena desired they would come down boldly, for they had nothing to fear. Upon this promise, some went down and surrender ed themselves. Others attempted to get off’ in the night; but very few of those escaped. The lest were hunted by the Arabians, and either taken or put to the sword. It is said, that in all there were twenty thousand killed, and ten thousand made prisoners. Surena sent the head and hand to Orodes in Armenia; not¬ withstanding which, he ordered his messengers to give it out at Seleucia, that he was bringiiur Crassus alive. Pursuant to this report, he prepared a kind ot mock procession, which, by way of ridicule, he called trium_ph. Cains Pacianus, who, of all the prisoners, most resembled Crassus, was dressed in a rich robe in the Parthian fashion, and instructed to answer 1 o the name of Crassus, and title of general. Thus accoutred, he marched on hiorseback at the head of the Romans. Before him marched the trumpets and lictors, mounted upon camels. Upon the rods were suspsnded empty purses, and, on the axes, heads of the Romans newly cut off. J^ehind came the * Appian calls him Maxsethres. and in some copies of Plutarch, he is call ed Axathres. TZ MARCUS CRASSUS. Sel ician courtesans ivith music, singing scurrilous and faf ci- cal ongs upon the effeminacy and cowardice of Crassus. 1 aese things were to amuse the populace. But after all the far e was over, Surena assembled the senate of Seleucia and prf duced the obscene books of Aristides, called Milesincs, Nor was this a groundless invention to blacken the Romans; for the hooks being really found in the baggage of Rustius,^ gave Surena an excellent opportunity to say many sharp and satirical things of the Romans, who, even in the time of war, could not refrain from such libidinous actions and abominable books. This scene put the Seleucians in mind of the wise remark of ^sop. They saw Surena had put the Milesian obscenities in the fore part of the wallet, and behind they beheld a Par¬ thian sybaris,t with a long train of carriages full of harlots; in¬ somuch, tliat his army resembled the serpents called scytalne. Fierce and formidable in its head, it presented nothing but pikes, artillery, and war horses; while the tail, ridiculously enough, exhibited prostitutes, musical instruments, and nights spent in singing and riot with those women. Rustius un¬ doubtedly was to blame, but it was an impudent thing in the Parthians to censure the Milesiacs, when many of the Arsa cidae who filled the throne, were sons of Milesian or Ionian courtesans. During these transactions, Orodes was reconciled ^^o Arta- vasdes the Armenian, and had agreed to a marriage between that prince’s sister and his son Pacorus. On this occasion, they freely went to each other’s entertainments, in which ma¬ ny of the Greek tragedies were presented. For Orodes was not unversed in the Grecian literature; and Artavasdes had written tragedies himself, as well as orations and histories, some of which are still extant. In oiu' of these entertain¬ ments, while they were yet at table, the head of Crassus was brought to the door. Jason, a tragedian of the city of Tralles, was rehearsing the Bacchse of Euripides, and the tragical ad- >"entures of Pentheus and Agave. All tlie company were ex¬ pressing their admiration of the pieces, when Sillaces, entering the apartment, prostrated himself before the king, and laid the head of Crassus at his feet. The Parthians welcomed it with acclamations of joy, and the attendants, by the king’s order, placed ST aces at the table. Hereupon, Jason gave one of the actors the habit of Pentheus, in which he had appeared; and putting on that of Agave, with the frantic air, and all the en¬ thusiasm of a bacchanal, sung that part, where Agave presents • One of the Bodleian manuscripts lias it Roscius, I Sybaris was a tov/n in I.ucania, famous for its luxury and effeminacy. MARCUS CRASSUS. 73 the head of Pehtheus upon her thyrsus, fancying it to be that of a young lion:— Well are our toils repaid: On yonder mountain We pierc’d the lordly savag'e. Finding the company extremely delighted, he went on: The chorus asks,— “ Who g'ave the glorious blow?” Agave answers,—- “ Mine, mine is the prize.” Pomax^thres, who was sitting at the table, upon hearing tins, started up and would have taken the head from Jason, insist¬ ing that that part belonged to him, and not to the actor. The king, highly diverted, made Pomaxsethres the presents usual on such occasions, and rewarded Jason with a talent. The expedition of Crassus was a real tragedy, and such was the exodium,* or farce, after it. - ‘ ^ However, the Divine Justice-punished Orodes for his cruel¬ ty; and Surena for his perjury. Orodes, envying the glory Surena had acquired, put him to death soon after. And that prince, having lost his son Pacorus in a battle with the Ro¬ mans, fell into a languishing disorder, which turned to a dropsy. His second son Phraates, took the opportunity to give him aconite. But finding the poison worked only upon the watery humour, and was carrying off the disease with it, he took a shorter method, and strangled him with his own nands.t * Exodium, in its orig-inal sense, sig-nifiecl the unravelling* of the plot, the catastrophe of a tragedy; and it retained that sense among the Greeks. But when the Romans began to act their light satirical pieces (of which they had always been very fond) after their tragedies, they applied the term to those pieces. •(- There have been more execrable characters, but there is not, perhaps, in the history of mankind, one more contemptible than that of Crassus. His ruling passion was the most sordid lust of wealth; and the whole of his conduct, political, popular, and military, was subservient to this. If at any time he gave into public munificence, it was with him no more than a spe¬ cies of commerce. By thus treating the people, he was laying out his mo¬ ney in the purchase of provinces. When Syria fell to his lot, the transports he* discovered, sprung not from the great ambition of carrying the Roman eagles over the east. They were nothing more tlian the joy of a miser, when he stumbles upon a hidden treasure. Dazzled with the prospect of barbarian gold, he grasped with eagerness, a command for which lie had no adequate capacity. We find him embarrassed by the slightest difficulties in his military operations, and when his obstinacy would permit him, taking his measures from the advice of his lieutenants. We look with indignation VoL. ITT.-K t' NICIAS AND CRASSUS COMPARED. One ot the first things that occurs in this comparison, is, that Nicias gained his wealth in a less exceptionable manner than Crassus. The working of mines, indeed, does not seem very suitable to a man of Nicias’s character, where the persons employed are commonly malefactors or barbarians, some of ivhich work in fetters, till the damps and unwholesome air put an end to their being.—But it is comparatively an honouranle pursuit, when put in parallel with getting an estate by the con¬ fiscation of Sylla, or by buying houses in the midst of fires. Yet Crassus dealt as often in these things as he did in agricul¬ ture a^d usury. As to the other matters which he was cen¬ sured for, and which he denied, namely, his making money of his vote in the senate, his extorting it frorn the allies, his overreaching silly women by flattery, and his undertaking the defence of ill men; nothing like these things were ever im¬ puted by Slander herself to Nicias. As to his wasting his money upon those who made a trade of impeachments, to pre¬ vent their doing him any harm, it was a circumstance which exposed him to ridicule; and unworthy, perhaps, of the cha racters of Pericles and Aristides; but necessary for him, who had a timidity in his nature. It was a thing v/hich Lycurgus die orator afterwards made a merit of to the people: when censured for having bought ofi’ one of these trading inform- ^-.rs,—rejoice,^^ said he, that after being so long employed m the administration, I am discovered to have given money, and have taken it.^^ As to their expenses, Nicias appears to have been more Dll the Eoman squadrons standing*, by his dispositions, as a mark for the Par- (ihian archers, and incapable of acting* either on the offensive or the defensive. The Romans could not be ig*norant of the Parthian method of attacking* and retreating*, when they had before spent so much time in Armenia. The fame of their cavalry could not be unknown in a country where it was so much dreaded. It was, therefore, the first business of the Roman general to avoid those countries which might give them any advantage in the eques¬ trian action. But the hot scent of eastern treasure, made him a dupe even '-o the policy of the barbarians; and to arrive at this the nearest way, he sj.v crificecl the lives of thirty thousand Romans. MCIAS AND CRASSUS COMPARED. 7b public-spirited in his. His offering to the gods^ and the games and tragedies with which he entertained the people, were so many proofs of noble and generous sentiments. It is true, all that jNicias laid out in this manner, and indeed, his whole estate, amounted only to a small part of what Crassus expend¬ ed at once, in entertaining so many myriads of men, and sup¬ plying them with bread afterwards. But it would be very sti ange to me, if there should be any one who does not per- ceive that this vice is nothing but an inequality and inconsis¬ tency of character; particularly when he sees men laying out tliat money in an honourable manner, which they have got dishonourably. So much with regard to their riches. If we consider their behaviour in the administration, we shall not find in Nicias any instance of cunning, injustice, vio¬ lence, or effrontery. On the contrary, he sufl’erd Alcibiades to impose upon him, and he was modest, or rather timid, in his applications to the people. Whereas Crassus, in turning from his friends to his enemies, and back again, if his interest required it, is justly accused of an illiberal duplicity. Nor could he deny that he used violence to attain the consulship, when he hired ruffians to lay their hands upon Cato and Do- mitius. In the assembly that was held for the allotment of the provinces, manv were wounded and four citizens killed. Nay, C rassus himself struck a senator, named Lucius Anda- lius, who opposed his measures, upon the face with his fist (a circumstance which escaped us in his life), and drove him out of the forum covered with blood. But if Crassus was too violent and tyrannical in his proceed¬ ings, Nicias was as much too timid. His poltroonry and mean submission to the most abandoned persons in the state, de¬ serves the greatest reproach. Besides, Crassus show'ed some magnanimity and dignity of sentiment, in contending, not with such wretches as Cleon and Hyperbolus, but with the glory of Caesar, and the three triumphs of Pompey. In fact, he maintained the dispute well with them for power, and in the high honour of the censorship ne was even beyond Pom¬ pey. For he who wants to stand at the helm, should not consider what may expose him to envy, but what is great and glorious, and may, by its lustre, force envy to sneak behind. But if security and repose are to be consulted above all things, if you are afraid of Alcibiades upon the rostrum, of the l^ace daemonians at Pylos, and of Perdiccus in Thrace, then surely, Nicias, Athens is wide enough to afford you a corner to retire to, where you may weave yourself the soft crown of tran¬ quillity, as some of the philosophers express it. The love. Nicias had for peace, was, indeed, a divine attachment, and his endeavours, during his whole administration, to put an 76 NICIAS AND CRASSUS COMPARED. end to the war, were worthy of the Grecian huirjanity. This alone places him in so honourable a light, that Crassus could not have been compared with him, though he bad made the Caspian sea or the Indian ocean, the boundary of the Roman empire. Nevertheless, in a commonwealth which retains any senti¬ ments of virtue, he who has the lead, should not give place, for a moment, to persons of no principle: he should entrust no charge with those who want capacity, nor place any confi¬ dence in those who want honour. And Nicias certainly did this in raising Cleon to the command of the army, a man who had nothing to recommend him, but his impudence and his bawling in the rostrum. On the other hand, I do not com¬ mend Crassus for advancing to action, in the war with Spar- tacus, with more expedition than prudence; though his am¬ bition had this excuse, that he was afraid Pompey would come and snatch his laurels from him, as Mummius had done from Metellus at Corinth. But the conduct of Nicias was very ab¬ surd and mean spirited.^ He would not give up to his enemy the honour and trust of commander-in-chief, while he could execute that charge with ease, and had good hopes of success, but as soon as he saw it attended with great danger, he was willing to secure himself, though he exposed the public by it. It was not thus Themistocles behaved in the Persian war. To prevent the advancement of a man to the command, who Inid neither capacity nor principle, which he knew must have been the ruin of his country, he prevailed with him by a sum of money, to give up his pretensions. And Cato stood for the tribuneship, when he saw it would involve him in the greatest trouble and danger. On the contrary, Nicias was willing enough to be general, when he had only to go against M ineo, Cythera, or the poor Melians; but if there was occa¬ sion to fight with the Lacedaemonians, he put off his armour, and entrusted the ship, the men, the warlike stores, in short, the entire direction of a war which required the most consum¬ mate prudence and experience, to the ignorance and rashness of Cleon, in which he was not only unjust to himself and his o\\ n honour, but to the welfare and safety of his countiy. This made the Athenians send him afterwards, contrary to his inclination, against Syracuse. They thought it was not a con¬ viction of the improbability of success, but a regard to his own ease, and a want of spirit, wdiich made him wdling to de¬ prive them of the conquest of Sicily. There is, however, this great proof of his integrity, tha‘: though he w’as perpetually against w^ar, and ahvays declmei • I'he sense requires that we should read cTuaov, not d'avov. NICIAS iVND CRASSIjS COMPARED. 77 the command, yet they failed not to appoint him to it as the ablest and best general they had. But Crassus, though he was for ever aiming at such a charge, never gained one, except in the war with the gladiators; and that only because Pompey, Metellus, and both the Luculluses were alDsent This is the more remarkable, because Crassus was arrived at a high de¬ gree of authority and power. But, it seems, his best friends thought him (as the comic poet expresses it) In all trades skill’d except the trade of war. However, this knowledge of his talents availed the Romans bui little; his ambition never let them rest, till they assigned him a province. The Athenians empolyed Nicias against his in¬ clination; and it was against the inclination of the Romans. that Crassus led them out. Crassus involved his country in misfortunes; but the misfortunes of Nicias were owing to hi? country. Nevertheless, in this respect, it is easier to commend Ni¬ cias, than to blame Crassus. The capacity and skill of the former, as a general, kept him from being drawn away with the vain hopes of his countrymen, and he declared from the first that Sicily could not be conquered; the latter called out the Romans to the Parthian war, as an easy undertaking. In this he found himself sadly deceived; yet his aim wns great While CjEsar was subduing the west, the Gauls, the Germans and Britain, he attempted to penetrate to the Indian ocean on the east, and to conquer all Asia; things which Pompey and Lucullus would have effected, if they had been able. But though they were both engaged in the same designs, and made the same attempts with Crassus, their characters stood unim¬ peached, both as to moderation and probity. If Crassus was opposed by one of the tribunes in his Parthian expedition. Pompey was opposed by the senate, when he got Asia for his province. And when Caesar had routed three hundred thou¬ sand Germans, Cato voted that he should be given up to tliat injured people, to atone for the violation of the peace. But the Roman people paying no regard to Cato, ordered a thanks¬ giving to the gods, for fifteen days, and thought themselves happy in the advantage gained. In what raptures then would they have been, and for how many days would they have of¬ fered sacrifices, if Crassus could have sent them an account / from Babylon, that he was victorious; and if he had proceed¬ ed from thence through Media, Persia, Ilyrcania, Susa, and Bactria, and reduced them to the form of Roman provinces. For, according to Euripides, if justice must be violated, and men can not sit down quiet and contented with their present 1 * 78 NICIAS AND CRASS US COMPARED. (possessions, it should not be for taking the small iow, oi Scandia, or razing such a castle as Mende; nor yet for g mg in chase of the fugitive iEginetse, who, like birds, have re med to another countiy; the price of injustice should be high; so sacred a thing as right sliould not be invaded for a trifling con¬ sideration, for that would be treating it with contempt indeed. In fact, they who commend Alexander’s expedition, and clecrv that of Crassus, judge of actions only by the event. As to their military performances, several of Nicias^s are very considerable. He gained many battles, and was very near taking Syracuse. Nor were all his miscarriages so many errors; but they were to be imputed partly to his ill health, and partly to the envy of his countrymen at home. On the other hand, Crassus committed so many errors, that fortune had no opportunity to show him any favour; wherefore we need not so much wonder that the Parthian power got the bet¬ ter of his incapacity, as that his incapacity prevailed over the good fortune of Rome. As one of them paid the greatest attention to divination, and the other entirely disregarded it, and yet both perished alike, it is hard to say whether the observation of omens is a salutary thing or not. Nevertheless, to err on the side of re¬ ligion, out of regard to ancient and received opinions, is a more pardonable thing than to err through obstinacy and presump¬ tion. Crassus, however, was not so reproachable in his exit. He did not surrender himself, or submit to be bound, nor was he deluded wuth vain hopes; but in yielding to the instances of his friends, he met his fate, and fell a victim to the perfidy and injustice of the barbarians. Whereas Nicias, irom a mean and unmanly fondness for life, put himself in the enemy’^t hands, by which means he came to a baser and more dishon® ourable end. THE LIFE OF SERTORIUS. It is not at all astonishing, that fortune, in the variety ot lici motions, through a course of numberless ages, happens often to hit upon the same point, and to produce events perfectly similar. For, if the number of events be infinite, fortune may easily furnish herself with parallels in such abundance of mat¬ ter; if their number be limited, there must necessarily be a re¬ turn of the same occurrences, when the whole is run through. Some there are who take a pleasure in collecting those ac¬ cidents and adventures they have met with in history or con¬ versation, which have such a characteristical likeness, as to appear the effects of reason and foresight. For example, there were two eminent persons of the name of Attis;^ the one a Syrian, the other an Arcadian, who were both killed by a boar. There were two Actaeons, one of which was torn in pieces by his dogs, and the other by his lovers.t Of the two Scipios, one conquered Carthage and the other demolished it. Troy was taken three times; the first time by Hercules, on account of Laomedon’s horses; the second time by Agamemnon, through means of the wooden horse; J the third by^ Charidemus, a horse happening to stand in the way, and hindering the Tro¬ jans from shutting the gates so quicldy as they should have done. There are two cities that bear the names of the most odoriferous plants, los^ and Smyrna^ Violet and Myrrh, and * Pausaiiias, in his AchaYcs, mentions one Attis, or Attes, the son of Caluus the Phryg-ian, who introduced the worship of the mother of the gods am e ng the Lydians. He tvas himself under a natural incapacity of having children, and therefore he might possibly be the first who proposed, that all the ]:)riests of that goddess should be eunuchs. Pausanias adds that Jupiter, displeased at his being so great a favourite with her, sent a boar, win^!' ' ravaged the fields, and slew Attis, as \vell as many of the I.ydians. know nothing of any other Attis. j Actseon, the son of Anstaius, was torn in pieces by liis own dogs, and Actaeon, tlie son of Melissus, by the Bacchiadae. See the Scholiast upon /ipoIhnmSi book iv. ± I'liese are all wooden instances of events, being under the guidance of •cn intelligent being. Nay, they are such puerUities as Timaeius himself scarce ever gave into. 4 Some suppose los to have been an island, rather than a town. But .t ii 80 SERTORIUS. Homer is said to have been born in the one, and to have died in the other. To these instances vve may add, that some of the generals who have been the greatest warriors, and have exerted their capacity for stratagem in the most successful manner, have had but one eye; 1 mean Philip, Anligonus, Hannibal, and Sertorius, whose life w^e are now going to write. A man whose conduct, wdth respect to women, was preferable tc that of Philip, who was more faithful to his friends than Anligonus, and more humane to his enemies than Hannibal; but, though he was inferior to none of them in capacity, he fell short of them all in success. Fortune, indeed, was ever more cruel to him than his most inveterate and avow^ed enemies; yet he showed himself a match for Metellus in experience, for Pompey in noble daring, for Sylla in his victories, nay, for the whole Roman people in power; and was all the wdiile an exile and a sojourner among barbarians. The Grecian general who, we think, most resembles him, is Eumenes of Cardia.t Both of them excelled in point of generalship; in all the art of stratagem, as svell as courage. Both were banished their own countries, and commanded armies in others. And both had to contend with fortune, who persecuted them so violently, that at last they were assasinated through the treachery of those very persons wdiom they had often led to victory. Quintus Sertorius was of a respectable family in the town ot iS ursia, and country of the Sabines. Having lost his father when a child, he had a liberal education given him by his mo¬ ther, whom on that account he always loved with the greatest tenderness. Her name was Rhea. He w^as sufficiently quali¬ fied to speak in a court of justice; and, by his abilities that way, gained some interest, when but a youth, in Rome itself. Hut his greater talents for the camp, and his success as a sol dier, turned his ambition into that channel. He made his first campaign under C8epio,t when the Cimbn cin# Teutones broke into Gaul. The Romans fought a battle, in w'hich their behaviour was but indifferent, and they weie put to the rout. On tliis occasion Sertorius lost his horse, and received many wounds himself, yet he swam the river Rhone, armed as he was with his breast-plate and shield, in spite of i’ as an island, there might be a town in it of the same name, which was oi’ten the case in the Greek islands. -(■ In the Thracian Chersonesus. t In the printed text it is Scipio; but two manuscripts give us Caspio And it certainly was Q. Servilius Csepio, who, with the consul Cn. Mallius, was defeated by the Cimbri, in the fourth year of tlie hundred and sixty eighth Olympiad, a hundred and three years before the Christian era^ SERTOmUS. ai ihe violence of the corrent. Such was his strens:tli of body and so much had he improved that strength by exercise. The same enemy came on a second time, with such prodi¬ gious numbers, and such dreadful menaces, that it was diffi¬ cult to prevail with a Roman to keep his post, or to obey his general. Marius had then the command, and Sertorius offered his service to go as a spy, and oring him an account of the enemy. P"or this purpose, he took a Gaulish habit, and hav :ng learned as much ot the language as might suffice for com mon address, he mingled with the barbarians. When he had seen and heard enough to let him into the measures they were taking, he returned to Marius, who honoured him with the established rewards of valour; and during that whole war, he gave such proofs of his valour and capacity, as raised him to distinction, and perfectly gained him the confidence of his general. After the war with the Cimbri and Teutones, he was sent as a legionary tribune, under Uidius, into Spain, and took up his winter quarters in Castulo,^ a city of the Celtiberians. The soldiers living in great plenty, behaved in an insolent and disorderly manner, and commonly drank to intoxication. The barbarians seeing this, held them in contempt; and one night having got assistance from their neighbours the Gyrisoenians,t they entered the houses where they quartered, and put them to the sword. Sertorius, with a few more, having found means to escape, sailed out and collected all that he had got out of the hands of the barbarians. Then he marched round the town^ and finding the gate open at which the Gyrisocnians had been privately admitted, he entered; but took care not to commit the same error they had done. He placed a guard there, made himself master of all quarters of the town, and slew all the in¬ habitants who were able to bear arms. After this execution^ ne ordered his soldiers to lay aside their own arms and clothes, and take those of the barbarians, and to follow him in that form to the city of the Gyrisocnians. The people, deceived by the suits of armour and habits they were acquainted with, opened their gates, and sallied forth, in expectation of meeting their friends and fellow-citizens, in all the joy of success. The consequence of which was, that the greatest part of them were cut in pieces at the gates; the rest surrendered, and were sold as slaves. By this manoeuvre, the name of Sertorius became famous in * A town of New Castile, on the confines of Andalusia. •j" The Gyrisoenians being* a people whom we know nothing* of, it has beei; conjectured that we should /’ead Orisians. The Orisians were of tliat dls trict. See Cellarius. Von. ITT.-L 82 SERTOmUS. Spain; and, upon his return to Rome, he was appointed quses-' tor in the Cisalpine Gaul. That appointment was a very sea sonable one; for the Marian war soon breaking out, and Serto rius being employed to levy troops, and to provide anns, he proceeded in that commission with such expedition and acti¬ vity, that, while efl'eminacy and supineness were spreading among the rest of the Roman youth, he was considered as a man of spirit and enterprise. N 3r did his martial intrepidity abate, when he arrived at llic degree of general. His personal exploits were still great, and he faced danger in the most fearless manner; in conse¬ quence of which, he had one of his eyes struck out. Tliis, however, he always gloried in. He said, others did not al¬ ways carry about with them the honourable badges of their valour, but sometimes laid aside their chains, their truncheons, and coronets; while he had perpetually the evidences of his bravery about him, and those who saw his misfortune, at the same time beheld his courage. The people, too, treated him with the highest respect. When he entered the theatre, they received him with the loudest plaudits and acclamations; an honour which officers distinguished for their age and achieve¬ ments, did not easily obtain. Yet when he stood for the office of tribune of the people, he lost it through the opposition of Sylla’s faction; which was the chief cause of his perpetual enmity against Sylla. When Marius was overpowered by Sylla, and fled for his life, and Sylla was gone to carry on the war against Mithridates, Octa¬ vius, one of the consuls, remained in Sylla’s interest; but Cinna, the other consul, whose temper was restless and sedi¬ tious, endeavoured to revive the sinking faction of Marius. Sertorius joined the latter; the rather because he perceived that Octavius did not act with vigour, and that he distrusted the friends of Marius. Some time after, a great battle was fought by the consuls in the forum, in which Octavius was victorious, and Cinna and Sertorius having lost not much less than ten chousand men, were forced to m". But, as there was a number of troops scat- iered up and down in Italy, they gained them by promises, and with that addition found themselves able to make head aga nst Octavius again. At the same time Marius arrived from Africa, and offered to range himself under the banners o ’ Cinna, as a private man under the consul. The officers were of opinion, that they ought to receive him; only Serto¬ rius opposed it. Whether it was that he thought Cinna would not pay so much attention to him, when he had a man of so much greater name, as a general, in liis army; or whether he feared the cru.eltv of Marius would threw all their affairs into SEUTORItlS fusion ag.iin, as lie indulged his resentments, without any regard to justice or moderation, whenever he had the advan¬ tage. He remonstrated, that as they were already superior to I he enemy, they had not much left to do; but if they admitted Marius among them, he would rob them of all the honour and the power at the same time, for he could not endure an asso¬ ciate in command, and was treacherous in every thing where his own interest was concerned. Cinna answered, that the sentiments of Sertorius were pei- fectly right, but that he was ashamed, and, indeed, knew not how to reject Marius, when he had invited him to take a part in the direction of affairs. Sertorius replied,—I imagined that Marius had come of his own accord into Italy, and point¬ ed out to you what in that case was most expedient for you to do; but, as he came upon your invitation, you should not have deliberated^ a moment, whether he was to be admitted or not. You should have received him immediatelv. True honour leaves no room for doubt and hesitation.^’ Cinna then sent for Marius; and the forces Ltiing divided into three parts, each of these three great officers had a com¬ mand. When the war was over, Cinna and Marius gave into every kind of insolence and cruelty. Sertorius alone neither put any man to death to glut his own revenge, nor committed any other outrage; on the contrary, he reproached Marius with his savage proceedings, and applying to Cinna in private, pre¬ vailed with him to make a more moderate use of his power. At last, finding that the slaves whom Marius had admitted as his fellow-soldiers, and afterwards employed as the guards of his tyranny,t were a strong and numerous body; and that, partly by order or permission of Marius, partly by their na¬ tive ferocity, they proceeded to the greatest excesses, killing their masters, abusing their mistresses, and violating the chil¬ dren; he concluded, that these outrages were insupportable; and shot them all with arrows in their camp, though their num¬ ber was not less than four thousand. After the death of Marius, the assassination of Cinna that followed it, and the appointment of young Marius to the con¬ sulship (contrary to the will of Sertorius, and the laws of Rome), Carbo, Scipio, and Norbanus, carried on the war against Sylla, now returned to Italy, but without any success. For sometimes the officers behaved in a inean and dastardly manner, and sometimes the troops deserted in large bodies. In ibis ease Sertorius began to think his presence of no impor¬ tance, as he savv their affairs under a miserable direction, and that persons of the least understanding had most power. Hf * Qui deliberant, desciverunt.— Tacit. t I'be Bardiwans, 81 SERTORIUS. was the more confirmed in this opinion, when Sylla encamped near Scipio, and amusing him with caresses, under pretence of an approaching peace, was all the while corrupting his troops. Sertorius advertised Scipio of it several times, and told him what the event would be, but he never listened to him. Then giving up Rome for lost, he retired with the utmost expedition into Spain; hoping, if he could get the government there into his hands, to be able to afford protection to such of his friends as might be beaten in Italy. He met with dreadful storms on his way, and when he came to the mountains adjoin¬ ing to Spain, the barbarians insisted that he should pay toll, .iiul purchase his passage over them. I’hose that attended him were fired with indignation, and thought it an unsufferable thing for a Roman proconsul to pay toll to such a crew of bar¬ barians. Blithe made light of the seeming disgrace, and said, —Time was the thing lie purchased, than which nothing in the world could be more precious to a man engaged in great attempts.’^ He therefore satisfied the demands of the moun¬ taineers, and passed over into Spain without losing a moment. He found the country very populous, and abounding in youth fit for war, but at the same time the people, oppressed by the avarice and rapacity of former governors, were ill-disposed towards any Roman government whatever. To remove this aversion, he tried to gain the better sort by his affable and obliging manner, and the populace by lowering the taxes. But his excusing them from providing quarters for the soldiers, was the most agreeable measure. For he ordered his men to pass the winter in tents without the walls, and he set them the example. He did not, however, place his whole dependence upon the attachment of the barbarians. Whatever Romans had settled there, and were fit to bear arms, he incorporated with his troops; he provided such a variety of warlike ma¬ chines, and built such a number of ships, as kept the cities in awe: and though his address was mild and gentle in peace, he made himself formidable by his preparations for war. As soon as he was informed that Sylla had made himself master of Rome, and that the faction of Marius and Carbo was entirely suppressed, he concluded that an army would soon be sent against him under the conduct of an able general. For this reason he sent Julius Salinator, with six thousand foot, to block up the passes of the Pyrenees. In a little time Caius Annius arrived on the part of Sylla; and seeing it im¬ possible to dislodge Salinator, he sat down at the foot of the mountain, not knowing how to proceed. While he was in this perplexity, one Calpurnius, surnamed Lenarius, assassinated Salinator; and his troops thereupon quitting the Pyrenees, Annius passed them, easily repulsing with his great'arm v the SERTORIUS. 8J5 lew that opposed him. Sertorius, not being in a condition to give him battle, retired with three thousand men to New Car¬ thage, where he embarked, and crossed over to Africa. The Maurusian coast was the land he touched upon; and his men going on shore there to water, and not being upon their guard, the barbarians fell upon them, and killed a considerable num¬ ber; so that he was forced to make back for Spain. He found the coasts guarded, and that it was impracticable to make a de- 3 cenl there; but having met with some vessels of Cilician pi¬ rates, he persuaded them to join him, and made his landing good in the isle of Pityusa,^ forcing his way through the guards which Annius had placed tliere. Soon after Annius made his appearance with a numerous fleet, on board of which were five thousand men. Sertorius ventured to engage him; though his vessels were small, and made rather for swfift sailing than strength. But a violent west wind springing up, raised such a storm, that the greatest part of Sertorius’s ships, being too light to bear up against it, were driven upon the rocky shore. Sertorius himself was prevent¬ ed by the storm from making his way at sea, and by the ene¬ my from landing; so that he was tossed about by the waves for ten days together, and at last escaped with great difficulty. At length the wind abated, and he ran in among some scat¬ tered islands in that quarter. There he landed; but finding thev were without water, he put to sea again, crossed the straits of Gades, and keeping to the right, landed a little above the mouth of the river Baetis, which running througli a large track to discharge itself into the Atlantic ocean, gives name to all that part of Spain through which it passes.t There he found some mariners lately arrived from the Atlantic islands.! These are two in number, separated only by a narrow channel, and are at the distance of four hundred leagues§ from the African coast. They are called the Fortunate islands. Rain seldom falls there, and when it does, it falls moderately; but they generally have soft breezes, which scatter such rich dews, that the soil is not only good for sowing and planting, but spon¬ taneously produces the most excellent fruits, and those in such abundance, that the inhabitants liave nothing more to do than to indulge themselves in the enjoyment of ease. The air is always pleasant and salubrious, through the happy tempera¬ ture of the seasons, and their insensible transitions into each other. For the north and east winds which blow from our CO itinent, in the immense tract they have to pass, are dissipat¬ ed an( lost while the sea winds, that is the south and the west f Baetlca, now Andalusia. 4 In the orig*inal, ten thousand fu)lonfrs K * Now Iv:ca. t I’lie Canaries. VoL. ITT. 86 SERTORIUS. bring with them from ihe ocean slight and gentle showers, but Dftener only a refreshing moisture, which imperceptibly scat¬ ters plenty on their plains. So that it is generally believed, even among the barbarians, that these are the Elysian fields, and the seats of the blessed, which Homer has described in ali the charms of verse. ^ Sertorius hearing these wonders, conceived a strong desire to fix himself in those islands, where he might live in perfect tranquillity, at a distance from the evils of tyranny and war. Tlie Cilicians, who wanted neither peace nor repose, but riches and spoils, no sooner perceived this than they bore away for Africa, to restore Ascalis, the son of Iphtha, to the throne of Mauritania. Sertorius, far from giving himself up to despair, resolved to go and assist the people who were at war with Ascalis, in order to open to his troops another prospect in this new employment, and to prevent their relinquishing him for want of support. His arrival was very acceptable to the Aloors^ and he soon beat Ascalis in a pitched battle; after which he besieged him in the place to which he retired. Hereupon Sylla interposed, and sent Paccianus with a con¬ siderable force to the assistance of Ascalis. Sertorius meeting him in the field, defeated and killed him; and having incor¬ porated his troops with his own, assaulted and took the city of Tingis,t whither Ascalis and his brothers had fled for refuge. The Africans tell us, the body of Antseus lies there; and Ser¬ torius not giving credit to what the barbarians related of his gigantic size, opened his tomb for satisfaction. But how great was his surprise, when (according to the account we have of it) he beheld a body sixty cubits long! J He immediately offer¬ ed sacrifices, and closed up the tomb; which added greatly to the respect and reputation it had before. The people of Tingis relate, that after the death of Antaeus, Hercules took his widow Tinga to his bed, and had by her a son, named Sophax, who reigned over that country, and found¬ ed a city, to which he gave his mother’s name. They add, that Diodorus, the son of Sophax, subdued many African na- ^ Odyss. iv. f In the text Tingene. Strabo tells ns, the barbarians call it Tinga^ that Artemidorus g'ives it the name of Linga^ and Eratosthenes that of Lixus. . t If it did not appear from Strabo, that Plutarch has here only copied the fable of Gabinius, concerning* the stature of Antjeus, we should be inclined to thrik that there was an error in the text, and that instead of a, we should read*i| «*y^&vT/, referring* the participle to immediately preced* iiiff. We the more readily give into this opinion, as the antiques of Her* cules and Antaeus do not represent the latter more in proportion than half a cubit higher than the former. And if we are to believe, at the same time, that Hercules, after he liad killed Antaeus, had connection with his vvidow, that must confirm us in the altered reading. SERT0RIU3. 8V tic.ns with an army of Greeks, which he raised out of the louies of Olbians and Myceneans, settled here by Hercules. Tliese particulars we mention for the sake of Juba, the best of all royal historians; for he is said to have been a descendant of Sophax and Diodorus, the son and grandson of Hercules. Sertorius having thus cleared the field, did no sort of harm to those who surrendered themselves, or placed a confidence in him. He restored them their possessions and cities, and put the government in their hands again; taking nothing for himself but what they voluntarily offered him. As he was deliberating which way he should next turn liis arms, the Lusitanians sent ambassadors to invite him to take the command among them. For they wanted a general of his reputation and experience, to support them against the terror of the Roman eagles; and he was the only one on whose cha¬ racter and firmness they could properly depend. Indeed, he is said to have been proof against the impressions both of plea¬ sure and fear; intrepid in time of danger, and not too much elated with more prosperous fortune; in any great and sudden attempt as daring as any general of his time, and where art and contrivance, as well as despatch, w^as necessary, for seiz¬ ing a pass, or securing a strong hold, one of the greatest mas¬ ters of stratagem in the world; noble and generous in rew^ard- ing great actions, and in punishing offences very moderate. It is true, his treatment of the Spanish hostages in the latter part of his life, which bore such strong marks of cruelty and revenge, seems to argue that the clemency he show’ed before, w^as not a real virtue in him, but only a pretended one, taken up to suit his occasions. I think, indeed, that the virtue wdiich is sincere and founded upon reason, can never be so conquer¬ ed by any stroke whatever, as to give place to the opposite vice. Yet dispositions naturally humane and good, by great and undeserved calamities, may ])Ossibly be soured a little, and the man may change with his fortune. This, I am persuaded, was the case of Sertorius; when fortune forsook him, his dis¬ position was sharpened by disappointment, and he became se¬ vere to those w’^ho injured or betrayed him. At present, having accepted the invitation to Lusitania, he took his voyage from x\frica thither. Upon his arrival, he was invested with full authority as general, and levied forces, with w"hich he reduced the neighbouring provinces. Num¬ bers voluntarily came over to him, on "account of his reputa¬ tion for clemency, as well as the vigour of his ])roceedings. And to the^e advantages he added artifice to amuse and gain the peoph'. 88 SERTORIUS. That of the hind was none of the least.^ Spanus, a coun¬ tryman who lived in those parts, happening to fall in with a hind which had newly yeaned, and which was flying from the hunters, failed in his attempt to take her; but, charmed with the uncommon colour of the fawn, which was a perfect white, he pursued and took it. By good fortune Sertorius had his camp in that neighbourhood; and whatever was brought to him, taken in hunting, or of the productions of the field, he received with pleasure, and retui'ned the civility with interest. The countryman went and offered him the fawn. He received this present like the rest, and at first took no extraordinary notice of it. But in time it became so tractable and fond of liim, that it would come when he called, follow him wherever he went, and learned to bear the hurry and tumult of the comp. By little and little he brought the people to believe there was something sacred and mysterious in the affair; giving it out, that the fawn was a gift from Diana, and that it discovered to him many important secrets. For he knew the natural power of superstition over the minds of the barbarians. In pursuance of this scheme, when the enemy was making a private irrup¬ tion into the country under his command, or persuading some ^ity to revolt, he pretended the fawn had appeared to him in a dream, and warned him to have his forces ready. And if he had intelligence of some victory gained by his officers, he jsed to conceal the messenger, and produce the fawn crowned with flowers for its good tidings; bidding the people rejoice, and sacrifice to the gods, on account of some news they would soon hear. By this invention he made them so tractable, that they obeyed his orders in every thing without hesitation, no lon¬ ger considering themselves as under the conduct of a stranger, but the immediate direction of heaven. And the astonishing increase of his power, far beyond all they could rationally expect, confirmed them in that persuasion. For, with two thousand six hundred men, whom he called Romans (though among them there were seven hundred Africans who came over with him), and an addition of four thousand light armed Lusitanians, and seven hundred horse, he carried on the war against four Roman generals, who had a hundred and twenty thousand foot, six thousand horse, two thousand archers and slingers, and cities without number^ under their command; though at first he had twenty citi('.s only. Nevertheless, with so trifling a force, and such small beginnings, he subdued se¬ veral great nations, and took many cities. Of the generah that opposed him, he beat Cotta at sea in the straits ove? Sei*torliis had learned lliesc arts of Marius. ^ERTORIUS. 89 against Mellaria, he defeated Phidius,"^ who had the chief comniaiivl in Baetica, and killed four thousand Romans upon the banks of IheBaetis. By his quaestor he beat Domitiusand Lucius Manlius,t proconsul of the other Spain; he likewise slew ThoraniuSjJ one of the officers sent against him by ^Je- tellus, together with his whole army. Nay, Metellus himself, a general of as great reputation as any the Romans then had, was entangled by him in such difficulties, and reduced to such extremities, that he was forced to call in Lucius Lollius from Gallia Narbonensis to bis assisiance, and Pompey the Great was sent with another army from Rome, with the utmost ex¬ pedition. For Metellus knew not what measures to take against so daring an enemy, who was continually harassing him, and yet would not come to a pitched battle, and who, by the lightness and activity of his Spanish troops, turned himself into all manner of foriPiS. He was sufficiently skilled, indeed, in set battles, and he commanded a firm heavy-armed infantry, which knew how to repulse and bear down every thing that would make head against them, but had no experience in climbing mountains, or capacity to vie in flying and pursuing men as swift as the wind; nor could his troops bear hunger, eat any thing undressed, or lie upon the ground without tents, like those of Sertorius. Besides, Metellus was now advanced in years, and, after his many campaigns and long service, had begun to indulge himself in a more delicate way of living: whereas Sertorius was in the vigour of his age, full of spirits, and had brought his strength and activity to the greatest perfection by exercise and abstemiousness. He never indulg¬ ed in wine, even when he had nothing else to do; and he had accustomed himself to bear labour and fatigue, to make long marches, and pass many successive nights without sleep, though supported all the while with mean and slender diet. By bestowing his leisure on hunting and traversing all the country for game, he had gained such a knowledge of the impracticable as well as open parts of it, that when he wanted lo fly, he found no manner of difficulty in it; and if he had oc- * Xylander has it Didhis, which is agreeable lo some manuscripts; Cruse- rms, upon conjecture only, reads it Aiijidius. But, as the learned Moses Bu 3du1 observes, there is a corrupt and insignificant Tnt in the text,— Tf'i J'i —and tlience he concludes, with some degree of probabili. ty, that vr should read Fui'Jidius. Freinsliem, in his Supplement to Livy (xc. 28^ ci.Jls this general Furjidius; and he might do it upon the authority of scune ancient manuscript of Plutarch. husixis in the text again is corrupt. Y-'e read it Lucius Manlius from Orosius and Liw. Florus has it Thorius, VoL. III.- M s» 90 SERTORIUS. casion to pursue or surround the enemy, he could execute it with ease. Hence it was, that Metellus, in being prevented Irom coming to any regular action, suflered all the inconveniences of a de¬ feat; and Sertorius gained as much by flying, as he could have done by conquering and pursuing. For he cut his adversary off from water, and prevented his foraging. If the Romans began to march, he was on the wing to harass them; and if they sat still, he galled them in such a manner, that they were forced to quit their post. If they invested a town, he was soon upon them, and by cutting off their convoys, as it were be¬ sieged the besiegers; insomuch that they began to give up the point, and to call upon Metellus to accept the challenge that Sertorius had given; insisting that general should fight with general, and Roman with Roman; and when he declined it, they ridiculed and abused him. Metellus only laughed at them., and he did perfectly right; for, as Theophrastus says,— A general should die like a general, and not like a common soldier.’’ He found that the Langobritse were very serviceable to Ser¬ torius, and perceived, at the same lime, that he might soon bring them to surrender for want of water; for they had but one well in the city, and an eneiny might immediately make himself master of the springs in the suburbs, and under the walls. He therefore advanced against the town; but conclud¬ ing he should take it within two days, he ordered his troops to take only five days’ provisions wdtb them. But Sertorius gave the people speedy assistance. He got two thousand skins, and filled them with water, promising them a good re¬ ward for the care of each vessel or skin. A number of Spa¬ niards and Moors offered their service on this occasion, and having selected the strongest and swiftest of them, he sent them along the mountains, wdth orders, when they delivered these vessels, to take all useless persons out of the town, that the w^ater might be fully sufficient for the rest during tlie wffiole course of the siege. When Metellus was informed of this manoeuvre he was greatly concerned at it; and, as his provisions began to fail, he sent out Aquilius'^' wdth six thousand men, to collect fresh supplies. Sertorius, who had early intelligence of it, laid an ambush for Aquilius, and upon his return, three thousand men, who w'ere placed in the shady channel of a brook for the purpose, rose up and attacked him in the rear. At the same time Sertorius himself, charging him in front, killed a consi- * The common reading* in the Greek text is AquimiSf but tlm mauu ECyipts g*ive us Aquilius, SERTORIUS. 91 ^erable number of his party, and took the rest prisoners. A- quilius got back to Metellus, but with the loss both of his horse and his arms, whereupon Metellus retired with disgrace, greatly insulted and ridiculed by the Spaniards. This success procured Sertorius the admiration and esteem of the Spaniards: but what charmed them still more was, that ho armed them in the Roman manner, taught them to keep their ranks, and to obey the word of command; so that in¬ stead of exerting their strength in a savage and disorder!}" manner, and behaving like a multitude of banditti, he polished them into regular forces. Another agreeable circumstance was, that he furnished them with abundance of gold and silver to gild their helmets, and enrich their shields; and that he taught them to w"ear embroidered vests, and magnificent coats; nor did he give them supplies only for these purposes, but he set them the example.^ The finishing stroke was, his collect¬ ing, from the various nations, the children of the nobility into the great city of Oscar,t and his furnishing them with master® to instruct them in the Grecian and Roman literature. This had the appearance only of an education to prepare them to be admitted citizens of Rome, and to fit them for important com¬ missions; but in fact the children were so many hostages. Meanwhile, the parents were delighted to see their sons in gowns bordered with purple, and walking in great state to the schools, without any expense to them; for Sertorius took the wlmle upon himself, often examining besides into the improve¬ ments they made, and distributing proper rewards to those of most merit, among which were the golden ornaments furling clown from the neck, called by the Romans Bullse, It was then the custom in Spain, for the band which fought near the general’s person, when he fell, to die with him. This manner of devoting themselves to death, the barbarians call a iihation.X The other generals had but a few of these guards or knights companions; whereas Sertorius was attended by many myriads, who had laid themselves under that obligation. It is said, that when he was once defeated near the walls of a town, and the enemy were pressing hard upon him, the Spaniards, to save Sertorius, exposed themselves without any precaution. They ])assed him upon their shoulders, from one to another, till he had gained the walls, and when their general was secure^ then they dispersed and fled for their own lives. * Alexander had taken the same method, before him, among* the Persians. Per lie ordered thirty thousand Persian boys to be taught (jreek, and train¬ ed in the Macedonian manner. f A city in Hispania Tarraconensis. i In Gaul, the persons who laid themselv’es under this obligation, were f.nlled soldarii. — Cais. de Bell. Gal. 1. iii. SERTORIUS. ^)2 Nor was he belored by the Spanish soldiers only, hut by diose wliich came from Italy too. Wiien Perpenna V^ento, wlio was of the same party with Sertorius, came into Spain with a great quantity of money, and a respectable army, in tending to proceed in his operations against Metellus upon his own bottom, the troops disliked the scheme, and nothing was talked of in the cairqD but Sertorius. This gave great uneasi¬ ness to Perpenna, who was much elated with his high birth and opulent fo.^tiine. Nor did the matter stop here. Upon their having intelligence that Pompey had passed the Pyre¬ nees, the soldiers took up their arms and standards, and loudly called upon Perpenna to lead them to Sertorius; threatening, if he would not comply, to leave him, and go to a general who knew how to save both himself and those under his com¬ mand. So that Perpenna was forced to yield, and he went and joined Sertorius with fifty-three cohorts.^ Sertorius now found himself at the head of a great army; for, besides the junction of Perpenna, all the countries within the Iberus had adopted his interest, and troops were daily flocking in on all sides. But it gave him pain to see them be¬ have with the disorder and ferocity of barbaric ns; to find them calling upon him to give the signal to charge, and im¬ patient of the least delay. He tried what mild representations would do, and they had no effect. They still continued obsti¬ nate and clamorous, often demanding the combat in a very unseasonable manner. At last he permitted them to engage in their own way, in consequence of which they would suffer great loss, though he designed to prevent their being entirely defeated. These checks, he hoped, would make them more willing to be under discipline. The event answered his expectation. They fought and were beaten; but making up with succours, he rallied the fugitives, and conducted them safe into the camp. His next step was to rouse them out of their despondence. For which purpose, a few days after, he assembled all his forces, and produced two horses before them; the one old and feeble, the other large and strong, and remarkable besides for a fine flowing tail. By the poor weak horse stood a robust able-bodied man, and by the strong horse stood a little man of a very contemptible ap¬ pearance. Upon a signal given, the strong man began to pull and drag about the weak horse by the tail, as if he would pull it off; and the little man to pluck off the hairs of the great horse's tail, one by one. The former tugged and toiled a long time, to the great diversion of the spectators; and at last was forced to give up the point; the latter, without any difficulty! ♦ A cohort is tlie tenth piirt of a leg-ion. SERTORIUS. 93 •soOii st ripped the great horse’s tail of all its hair.* Then Ser- torius rose up, and said,—You see, my friends and fellow- soldiers, how much greater are the effects of perseverance, than those of force, and that there are many things invinci!)le in their collective capacity, and in a state of union, which may gradually be overcome when they are once separated. In short, perseverance is irresistible. By this means, time at¬ tacks and destroys the strongest things upon earth. Time, 1 say, w'ho is the best friend and ally to those who have the dis- eernment to use it properly, and watch the opportunities it presents, and the worst enemy to those who will be rushing into action when it does not call them.” By such symbols as these, Sertorius applied to the senses of the barbarians, and instructed them to wait for proper junctures and occasions. But his contrivance, with respect to the Characitani, gained him as much admiration as any of his military performances whatever. The Characitani are seated beyond the river Ta¬ gus. They have neither cities nor villages, but dwell upon a large and lofty hill, in dens and caverns of the rocks, the mouths of which are all to the north. The soil of all the coun¬ try about it is a clay, so very light and crumbly, that it yields to the pressure of the foot, is reduced to powder with the least touch, and flies about like ashes or unslaked lime. The bar¬ barians, whenever they are apprehensive of an attack, retire to these caves with their booty, and look upon themselves as in a place perfectly impregnable. It happened that Sertorius retiring to some distance from Metellus, encamped under this hill; and the savage inhabitants, imagining he retired only because he was beaten, offered him several insults. Sertorius, either provoked at such treatment, or willing to show them he was not flying from any enemy, *^nunted his horse the next day, and went to reconnoitre the ^.,ace. As he could see no part in which it was accessible, he almost despaired of taking it, and could only vent his anger jii vain menaces. At last he observed, that the wind bleAV the dust in great quantities towards the mouths of the caves, which, as I said before, are all to the north.t The north wind, which some call emdas^t prevails most in those parts; taking its rise from the marshy grounds, and the mountains covered with snow. Amd as it was then the height of summer, it was remarkably strong, having fresh supplies from the melting of the ice on the northern peaks, so that it blew a most agreeable gale, which in the day time refreshed both these savages and their flocks. * Horace alludes to this, 1. ii. ep. 1. t Media inter Acpiilonem et exortum Aiiquinoctialem. — PHn. 1. ii. c. 47 t Narrant et in Po'iito Cap.ciain in se trahere nubes. — lb. 94 SERTORIUa. Sertorius, reflecting upon what he and being informed oy the neighhouring Spaniards that these were the usual ap¬ pearances, ordered his soldiers to collect vast quantities of that dry and crumbly earth, so as to raise a mount of it over against the hill. The barbarians imagining he intended to storm thei. strong holds from that mount, laughed at his proceedings. The soldiers went on with their work till night, and then he led them hack into the camp. Next morning, at break of day, a gentle breeze sprung up, which moved the lighest part of the heap, and dispersed it like smoke; and as the sun got up higher, the csecias blew again, and by its violence covered all *^iie hill with dust. JNIeantime the soldiers stirred up the heap from the very bottom, and crumbled all the clay; and some galloped up and down to raise the light earth, and thicken the clouds of dust in the wind, which carried them into the dwellings of the Characitani, their entrances directly facing it. As they were caves, and of course had no other aperture, the eyes of the inhabitants were soon filled, and they could scarce breathe for the suffocating dust which they drew in with the air. In these wretched circumstances they held out two days, though with great difficulty, and the third day sur¬ rendered themselves to Sertorius at discretion; who, by re¬ ducing them, did not gain such an accession of strength as of honour; for an honour it was to subdue those by policy, whom his arms could not reach. While he carried on the war against Metellus only, his suc¬ cess in general was imputed to the old age and inactivity of his adversary, who had to contend with a bold young man, at the head of troops so light, that they might pass rather for a marauding party, than a regular army. But when Pompey had passed the Pyrenees, and Sertorius took post against him, every art of generalship on both sides was exhausted, and yet even then it appeared, that in point both of attack and defence, Sertorius had the advantage. In this case, the fame of Serto¬ rius greatly increased, and extended itself as far as Rome, where he was considered as the ablest general of his time. Indeed, the honour Pompey had acquired was very considera¬ ble, and the actions he had performed under Sylla, set him in a very respectable light, insomuch that Sylla had given him the appellation of the Great^ and he was distinguished with a. triumph, even before he wrote Mnan.’ This made many of the cities, which were under the command of Sertorius, cast their eyes upon Pompey, and inclined them to open their gates to him. But they returned to their old attachment, upon the une:xpected success that attended Sertorius at Lauron.^ * A city of Hither Soain, five leag’iies from Valencia. SKRT0RIU9. Sertorius was besieging that, place, and Pompey marched ivith his whole army to its relief. There was a hill at some distance from the walls, from which the city might be greatly annoyed. Sertorius hastened to seize it, and Pompey to pre¬ vent him; but the former gained the post. Pompey, however, sat down by it with great satisfaction, thinking he had been fortunate enough to "cut Sertorius off from the town; and he sent a message to the Lauronites,—That they might be per¬ fectly easy, and sit quietly upon their walls, while they saw him oesiege Sertorius.’^ But when that general was informed of it, he only laughed, and said,—I will teach that scholar of Sylla so in ridicule he called Pompey, that a general ought to look behind him, rather than before him.^^ At the same time he showed the besieged a body of six thousand foot in the camp which he had quitted, in order to seize the hill, and which had been left there on purpose to take Pompey in the rear, when he should come to attack Sertorius in the post he now occupied. Pompey, not discovering this manoeuvre till it was too late, did not dare to begin the attack, lest he should be surrounded. And yet he was ashamed to leave the Lauronites in such ex¬ treme danger. The consequence was, that he was obliged to sit still and see the town lost. The people in despair of as¬ sistance, surrendered to Sertorius, who w^as pleased to spare the inhabitants, and let them go free; but he laid their city^ in ashes. This was not done out of anger, or a spirit of cruelty (for he seems to have indulged his resentment less than any other general whatever), but to put the admirers of Pompey to the blush; while it was said among the barbarians, that though he was at hand, and almost warmed himself at the flame, he suffered his allies to perish. It is true, Sertorius received many checks in the course of the war; but it was not where he acted in person; for he ever continued invincible; it was through his lieutenants. And such was his manner of rectifying the mistakes, that he me\ with more applause than his adversaries in the midst of their success. Instances of which we have in the battle of Sucro with Pompey, and in that of Tuttia^ with both Pompey and Metellus. As to the battle of Sucro, we are told it was fought tne sooner, because Pompey hastened it, to prevent Metellus from having a share in the victory. This was the very thing Ser¬ torius wanted, to try his strength with Pompey, before Aletel- lus joined him. Sertorius came up and engaged him in the * Grsevius conjectures, that \vg should read Tiirlay tlie Turiiis being' » river which falls into the Sucro. 3Q SERTORIUS. tivening. This he did out of choice, in the persuasion that the enemy, not being acquainted with the country, wmuld find ho p’ave Sertorius tlie first blow. 102 SERTOmUS. made bemg the signal for them to fall on, Antony, who sal next to Sertorius, gave him a stroke with his sword. Sertori- us turned, and strove to get up; but Antony, throwing himself upon his l3reast, held botn his hands; so that, not being able in the least to defend himself, the rest of the conspirators dcs patched him with many wounds. Upon the first news of his death, most of the Spaniards abandoned Perpenna, and by their deputies surrendered them¬ selves to Pompey and Metellus. Perpenna attempted some¬ thing with those that remained; but though he had the use of all that Sertorius had prepared, he made so ill a figure, that it was evident he knew no more how to command than how to obey. He gave Pompey battle, and was roon routed and taken prisoner. Nor in this last distress did he teiiave as became a general. He had the papers of Sertorius in his possession, and he offered Pompey the sight of original letters from men of consular dignity, and the gTeatest interest in Rome, by which they invited Sertorius into Italy, in consequence of the desire of numbers, who wanted a change in the present face of affairs, and a new administration. Pompey, however, behaved not like a young man, but with all the marks of a solid and improved understanding, and by his prudence delivered Rome from a train of dreadful fears and new commotions. He collected all those letters, and the other papers of Sertorius, and burnt them, without either read ing them himself, or suffering any other person to do it. As for Perpenna, he put him to death immediately, lest he should mention the names of those who wrote the letters, and thence new seditions and troubles should arise. Perpenna^s accom¬ plices met the same fate; some of them being brought to Pom¬ pey, and by him ordered to the block, and others who fled into Africa, shot by the Moors. None escaped but Aufidius, the rival of Manlius. Whether it was that he could not be found, or they thought him not worth the seeking, he lived to old age in a village of :he barbarians, wretchedly poor, and universally despised. THE LIFE OF EUMENES. Duris, the historian, writes, that Eumenes the Cardiari wsli the son of a poor wagoner in the Chersonesus, and yet tliat he had a liberal education both as to learning and the exercises then in vogue.^ He says that while he was but a lad, Philip happening to be in Cardia, went to spend an hour of leisure in seeing how the young men acquitted themselves in the pnn- cmtion^^ and the boys in wrestling. Among these Eumenes succeeded so well, and showed so much activity and address, that Philip was pleased with him, and took him into his train. But others assert, with a greater appearance of probability, that Philip preferred him on account of the ties of friendship and hospitality there were between him and the father of Eumenes. After the death of Philip, he maintained the reputation oi being equal to any of Alexander’s officers in capacity, and in the honour with which he discharged his commissions; and though he had only the title of principal secretary, he was looked upon in as honourable a light as the king’s most inti¬ mate friends and counsellors, insomuch that he had the sole direction of an Indian expedition; and upon the death of He- phsestion, when Perdiccas had the post of that favourite, he succeeded Perdiccas.t Therefore, when Neoptolemus, who had been the principal armour-bearer, took upon him to say, alter the death of Alexander,—That he had borne the shield and spear of that monarch, and that Eumenes had only follow¬ ed with his escritoir,” the Macedonians only laughed at his vanity, knowing that, besides other marks of honour, Alex¬ ander, had thought Eumenes not unworthy his alliance. For * I'here were public schools, where children of all conditions were taught, without distinction. ■(' The pancration (as we have already observed) was a composition of wrestling and boxing. t In the printed text it is iTragx^cLv, province. But as we know of no go* vernment that Alexander gave Eumenes, 'tTrira^iAVt a command in the cavai ry, which is the reading in some of the manuscripts, appears preferable. And Cornelius Nepos confirms »t in these words: Fracfuit etiam alteri tout turn oliT: lai EUMENES. Barsine, the daughtei* of Artabazus, who was the f^st iady Alexander took to his bed in Asia, and who brought fiim a son named Hercules, had two sisters; one of which, called Apama, he gave to Ptolemy, and the other, called also Barsine, he gave to Eumenes, at the time when he was selecting Persian ladies as wives for his friends.^ Yet it must be acknowledged, he was often in disgrace with Alexander, and once or twice in danger too on account of Ilephsestion. In the first place, Hephsestion gave a musician, named Evius, the quarters which the servants of Eumenes had taken up for him. Upon this, Eumenes went in great wrath to Alexander, with Mentor,t and cried,—The test method they could take, was to throw away their arms, and learn to play upon the flute, or turn tragedians.^^ Alexandei at first entered into his quarrel, and sharply rebuked Hephaestion; but he soon changed his mind, and turned the weight of his dis¬ pleasure upon Eumenes; thinking he had behaved with more disrespect to him than resentment against Hephaestion. Again, when Alexander wanted to send out Nearchus with a fleet to explore the coast of the ocean, he found his treasury low, and asked his friends for a supply. Among the rest he applied to Eumenes for three hundred talents, who oflered him only a hundred, and assured him, at the same time, he should find it difficult to collect that sum by his stewards. Alexander refused the offer, but did not remonstrate or com¬ plain. However, he ordered his servants privately to set fire to Eumenes^s tent, that he might be forced to carry out his money, and be openly convicted of its falsity. It happened that the tent was entirely consumed, and Alexander was sorry on account of the loss of his papers. There was gold and silver found melted, to the amount of more than a thousand talents; yet even then the king took none of it. And having written to all his grandees and lieutenants, to send him copies of the despatches that were lost, upon their arrival he put them again under the care of Eumenes. Some time after, another dispute happened between him and ♦ Alexander had marned Statira, the eldest daug'hter of Darius, and given the j^oung'est, named Trypetis, to Hephsestion. This was a measure well calculated to establish him and his posterity on the Persian throne; but it ^as obnoxious to the Macedonians. Therefore, to support it on one hand, find to obviate inconveniences on the other, he selected eig-hty virgins out of the most honourable families in Persia, and persuaded his principal liiends and officers to many them. f Mentor was brother to Memnon, whose widow Barsine was Alexan der’s mistress. He was also brotlier-in-law to ArtaDazus; and the second Baisine, whom Eumenes married, seems to have been daughter ta Mem non and Mentor’s sister. EUMENES. lOf! Hephaestion, on account of some present from the kiryg to one of them. Much severe and abusive language passed between them, yet Alexander, for the present, did not look upon Eu- menes with the less regard. But Hephaestion dying soon after, the king, in his unspeakable affliction for that loss, expressed his resentment against all who he thought envied that favourite while he lived, or rejoiced at his death. Eumenes was one of those whom he most suspected of such sentiments, and he often mentioned the differences, and the severe language those differences had produced. Eumenes, however, being an artful man, and happy at expedients, made the very person through whom he had lost the king’s favour the means of regaining it He seconded the zeal and application of Alexander, to cele¬ brate the memory of Hephaestion. He suggested such in stances of veneration as he thought might do most honour to the deceased, and contributed largely and freely out of his own purse towards the expenses ot his funeral. Upon the death of Alexander, a great quarrel broke out between the phalanx and the late king’s friends and generals. Eumenes, in his heart, sided with the phalanx^ but in appear¬ ance stood neuter, as a person perfectly indifferent; saying, it did not become him, who was a stranger, to interfere in the disputes of the Macedonians. And when the other great offi¬ cers retired from Babylon, he staid there, endeavouring to appease that body of infantry, and to dispose them to a recon- ciliation. After these troubles were past, and the generals met to con¬ sult about dividing the provinces and armies among them, the countries assigned Eumenes were Cappadocia and Paphlago- nia, and the coast of the sea of Pontus, as far as Trapezus. These countries were not then subject to the Macedonians, for Ariarathes was king of them; but Leonatus and Antigonus were to go with a great army, and put Eumenes in possession. Antigonus, now elated with power, and despising all the world, gave no attention to the letters of Perdiccas. But Leo¬ natus marched down from the upper provinces into Phrygia, and promised to undertake the expedition for Eumenes. Im¬ mediately after this, Hecataeus, a petty tyrant in Cardia, ap¬ plied to Leonatus, and desired him rather to go to the relief of Antipater and the Macedonians, who were besieged in La- mia."*" Leonatus being inclined to go, called Eumenes, and attempted to reconcile him to Hecataeus. They had long had suspicions of each other on account of a family difference in point of politics; in consequence of which Eumenes had only accused Hecataeus of setting himself up tyrant in Cardia, and VoL. IIL ■0 A city of Thessaly 106 e:j:»ienes. had maltreated Alerrandcr to restore that people to their liberty. He now desired to be excused taking a share in the Grecian expedition, alleging he was afraid Antipater, who had long hated him, to gratify himself as well as Hecataeus, would make some attempt upon his life. Upon which, Leonatus, placing an entire confidence in him, opened to him all his heart. He told him the assisting Antipater was nothing but a pretext, and that he designed, as soon as he landed in Greece, to assert his claim to Macedonia. At the same time he showed him letters from Cleopatra,'^ in which she invited him to Pella, and pro¬ mised to give him her hand. Whether Eumenes was really afraid of Antipater, or whe¬ ther he despaired of any service from Leonatus, who was ex¬ tremely obstinate in his temper, and followed every impulse of a precipitate ambition, he withdrew from him in the night with all his equipage, which consisted of three hundred horse, Two hundred of his domestics, well armed, and all his treasure, amounting to five thousand talents. With this he fled to Per- diccas; and, as he acquainted that general with the secret de¬ signs of Leonatus, he was immediately taken into a high de gree of favour, and admitted to a share in his councils. In a little time, too, Perdiccas in person conducted him into Cappa¬ docia, with a great army; took Ariarathes prisoner, subdued all the country, and established Eumenes in that government; m consequence of which, Eumenes put the cities under the direction of his friends, placed guards and garrisons, with proper officers at their head, and appointed judges and super- intendants of the revenue; Perdiccas leaving the entire dis¬ position of those things to him. After this, he departed with Perdiccas; choosing to give him that testimony of respect, and not thinking it consistent with his interest to be absent from his court. But Perdiccas, satisfied that he could himself exe¬ cute the designs he was meditating, and perceiving that the jirovirices he had left behind required an able and faithfu. guardian, sent back Eumenes when he had reached Cilicia. The pretence was, that he might attend to the concerns of his own government; but the real intention, that he should secure the adjoining province of Armenia, which was disturbed by the practices of Neoptolemus. Neoptolemus was a man of sanguine pursuits, and unbound¬ ed vanity. Eumenes, however, endeavoured to keep him to !iis duty, by soothing applications. And as he saw the Mace¬ donian infantry were become extremely insolent and audacious, he applied himself to raising a body of cavalr}/, which might be a ccunterpoise against them. For this purpose, he remitted * The sister of Alexander. EUMENES. 107 Jie taxes, and gave other immunities to those of his province who were good horsemen. He also bought a great number of horses, and distributed them among such of his courtiers as he nlaced the greatest confidence in; exciting them by honours anrf rewards, and training them to strength and skill, by a variety of exercises. The Macedonians, upon this, were dif¬ ferently affected, some with astonishment, and others with loy, to see a body of cavalry collected, to the number of six housand three hundred, and trained in so short a space of line. About that time, Craterus and Antipater, having reduced (xreece, passed into Asia, to overthrow the power of Perdiccas; and news was brought that their first intention was to enter Cappadocia. Perdiccas himself was engaged in war with Ptolemy; he therefore appointed Eumenes commander-in¬ chief 01 the forces in Armenia and Cappadocia, and wrote to Alcetas and Neoptolemus to obey the orders of that general, whom he had invested with discretionary powers. Alcetas plainly refused to submit to that injunction; alleging that the Macedonians would be ashamed to fight Antipater; and as for Craterus, their affection for him was such that they would re¬ ceive him with open arms. On the other hand, it was visible that Neoptolemus was forming some treacherous scheme against Eumenes; for when called upon, he refused to join him, and, instead of that, prepared to give him battle. This was the first occasion on which Eumenes reaped the fruits of his foresight and timely preparations. For, though his infantry were beaten, with his cavalry he put Neoptolemus to flight, and took his baggage. And while the phalanx were dispersed upon the pursuit, he fell upon them in such good order with nis horse, that they were forced to lay down their arms, and take an oath to serve him. Neoptolemus collected some of the fugitives, and retired with them to Craterus and Antipater. They had already sent ambassadors to Eumenes, to desire him to adopt their interests; in reward of which they would confirm to him the provinces he had, and give him others, with an additional number of troops; in which case he would find Antipater a friend instead of an enemy, and con¬ tinue in friendship with Craterus, instead of turning his arms against him. EumeiKis made answer to these proposals,—That having long been on a footing of enmity with Antipater, he did not choose to be his friend, at a time when he saw him treating his friends as so many enemies. As for Craterus, he was ready to reconcile him to Perdiccas, and to compromise mat¬ ters between them upon just and reasonable terms. But if he should begin hostilities, he would support his injured friend 108 EUMENES. while he nad an Lour to live, and rather sacrifice life itseii tnan his honour.’^ When this answer was reported to Antipater and Craterus. they took some time to deliberate upon the measures they should pursue. Mean while, Neoptolemus arriving, gave them an account of the battle he had tost, and requested assist¬ ance of them both, but particularly of Craterus. He said,— •^The Macedonians had so extraordinary an attachment to him, that if they saw but his hat, or heard one accent of his tongue, they would immediately run to him with their swords in their hands.’^ Indeed, the reputation of Craterus was very great among them, and, after the death of Alexander, most of them wished to be under his command. They remembered the risks he had run of embroiling himself with Alexander for their sakes; how he had combated the inclination for Persian fashions which insensibly grew upon him, and supported the customs of nis country against the insults of barbaric pomp and luxury. Craterus now sent Antipater into Cilicia, and taking a con siderable part of the forces himself, marched along with Ne¬ optolemus against Eumenes. If Eumenes foresaw his coming, and was prepared for it, we may impute it to the vigilance necessary in a general; we see nothing in that of superior ge¬ nius. But when, besides his concealing from the enemy what they ought not to discover, he brought his own troops to ac¬ tion, without knowing who was their adversary, and made them serve against Craterus, without finding out that he was the officer they had to contend with; in this we see charac- teristical proofs of generalship. For he propagated a report, that Neoptolemus, assisted by Pigris, was advancing again with some Cappadocian and Paphlagonian horse. The night he designed to decamp, he fell into a sound sleep, and hacl a very extraordinary dream. He thought he saw two Alexan¬ ders prepared to try their strength against each other, and each at the head of a phalanx. Minerva came to support the one and Ceres the other. A sharp conflict ensued, in which the Alexander assisted by Minerva, was defeated, and Ceres crowned the victor with a wreath of corn. He immediately concluded thai the dream was in his favour, because he had to light for a country which was most of it in tillage, and which had then so excellent a crop well advanced towards the sickle, lliat the whole face of it had the appearance of a profound f )eace. He was the more confirmed in his opinion, when he bund the enemy’s word was Minerva and Jilexander; and in opposition to it he gave Ceres and Jilexander. At the same time, he ordered his men to crown themselves, and to cover iheir arms with ears of corn. He was several times upon the EUMENES. 10^ point of declaring to his ^iiincipal officers and captains wiia'* adversary they had to contend with; thinking it a hazardous undertaking to keep to himself a secret so important, and per¬ haps necessary for them to know, yet he abode by his first resolution, and trusted his own heart only with the danger that mi^ht '^nsue. When he came to give battle, he would not set any Mace¬ donian to engage CrateL^nis, but appointed to that charge two bodies of foreign horse, cc mimanded by Pharnabazus the son of Artabazus, arid Pheenix of Tenedos. They had orders to advance on the hist sight 3f the enemy and come to close lighting, with cue giving them time to r'^tire; and if tfiey at¬ tempted to speak or send any herald, tr ^y v^ere net to regard it. For he had s 'rong apprehensions that the Macedonians would gc»over to Crateras, if they happened to know'him. Eumenes, himself wirb a troop of three hundred select horse, went and posted himself in the right wing, where he should ha\e te act agains' Neoptolemus. When they had passed a little hill tha. separated the two armies, and came in view, they chsugik w'th such impetuosity, that Craterus was ex¬ tremely surprised, and expressed bis resentment in strong terms agamst Neoplolemus, who, he theught, had deceived him w'idi a pif.ten :e that the Macedonians would change sides. However, be exhorted his officers to behave like brave men, ind stood ior?vard to the enccunter. In trie first shock, which was very viulent, the spears were soon broken, and they were then to decide, the dispute with the sword. The behaviour of Craterus did no dishonour to Alexander. He killed numbers v/ith his own hand, and overthrew many others who a,isailed him in front. But at last he received a side-blow from a Thracian, which brought him to the ground. Many passed over him without knowing him; but Gorgias, one of Eurnenes^s officers, took notice of him; and being well acquainied with bis person, leaped from his horse, and guard¬ ed the oody. It was then, however, too late; he was at the last extremity, and in the agonies of death. in the meantime, Neoptolemus engaged Eumenes. The most violent hatred had long subsisted between them, and ibis day added stings to it. They knew not one another in die two first encounters, but in the third they did; and the;, iney rushed forward impetuously, wfith swords drawn, anJ loud shouts. The shock their horses met with w'as so violent^ liiat it resembled that of two galleys. The fierce antagonist* quitted the bridles, and laid hold on each other; each endea¬ vouring to tear rff the helmet or ihe breast-plate of his enemv While their hands we?e thu: engaged, their horses went fion. under them; and as tliev fell to the ground without quittin''- VoL. ITT 10 EUMENKS. .heir hold, they wrestled for the advantage. Neoptolem\Js was Deginning to rise first, when Eumenes wounded him in the ham, and by that means, got upon his feet before him. Neop- tolemus being wounded in one knee, supported himself upon the other, and fought with great courage underneath, but was not able to reach his adversary amoi'/d blow. At last, re¬ ceiving a wound in the neck, he grew faint, and stretched himself upon the ground. Eumenes with all the eagerness o^ inveterate hatred, hastening to strip off his arms, and loading him with reproaches, did net observe that his swe^d was still in his hand; so that ]>^eoptclemus w^ounded him under the cui¬ rass. where it touche^j upon the groin. as the stroke was but feeble, the apprehension^ it gave him were greaur than the real hurt. When he had despoiled his adversary5 weak he was with the wounds he had received in his legs and ^vm.g, he mounted his horse, and made up to his left wing, which he supposed might still be engaged with the enemy. Tr.eie. being inform ed of the fate of Crateras, he hastened to hira^ and iinding his breath and his senses not quite gene, he ahghtid from his horse, wept over him, and gave him his hand One while he vented his execrations upon Neoplolemus, and another w^hile he lamented his own ill fortune, and the cruel Uixe^sity he was under of coming to extremities with his most hi'iina^e friend, and either giving or receiving the fatal blow. Eumenes won this battle about ten days after the lormer. And it raised him to a high rank of honour, because i . brought him the palm both of capacity and courage; but at ihe same time it exposed him to the envy and hatred both of his allieii and his enemies. It seemed hard to them, that a s ranger, a foreign adventurer, should have destroyed one of the greatest and most illustrious of the Macedonians, with the arms of those very Macedonians. Had the news of the death of Craterus been brought sooner to Perdiccas, none but he would ha^e swayed the Macedonian sceptre. But he was slain in a muti¬ ny in Egypt, two days before the news arrived. The AIac<^- donians were so much exasperated against Eumenes upon tluj late event, that they immediately decreed his death. Antigo nus and Antipater were to take the direction of the war which was to carry that decree into execution. Meantime Eumenc^r w^.nt to the king’s horses which were pasturing upon Mount Ida, and took such as he had occasion for, but gave the keep¬ ers a discharge for them. When Antipater was apprised of i he laughed, and said, He could not enough admire the cau bion of Eumenes, who must certainly expect to see the accoun* of the kmg’s goods and chattel stat d '‘ither on one side 01 t.h er EUMENES IVi Eumenes intended to give battle upon the plains of Lydia near Sardis, both because he was strong in cava'ry, and be cause he was ambitious to show Cleopatra what a respectable force he had. However, at the request of that princess, who was afraid to give Anti pater any cause of complaint, he rnai ch¬ id to the Upper Phrygia, and wintered in Oelaenae. There Alcetas, Polemon, and Docimus, contended with him foi the :ommand; upon which he said,—This makes good the olscr vation, every one thinks of advancing himself, but no 'ms ainks c-f the danger that may accrue to the public weal,'^ He had promised to pay his army within three days; and as he had not money to do it, he sold them all the farms an'^ cas des in the country, together with the people and caLue thal were upon them. Every captain of a Macedonian cornpan}/, Dr officer who had a commiand in the foreign troops, received jatteiing engines from Eumenes; and when he Lad taken the castle^ he divided the spoil among his company, according to die arrears due to each particular man. This restored him the anections of the soldiers; insomuch that w'hen papers were found in his camp, dispersed by the enemy, dn which their geno.als promised a hundred talents, and great honours to the man who should kill Eumenes, the Macedonians were highl)^ incensed, and gave erdor, that from that time he should have a Key guard ci a tbj.uiand officer-like men^ always about him who chculd Acpp v. aich by turns, and be in vv^aiting day ana There v'lc not a man whe refused that charge; and they were glad to receive from Eumenes the marks of 1 'n'ur 'which those v’ere called the king^s friends used cj leoei^' O from the hands cl royalty. For he, too, was em¬ powered CO distribute purple hats and rich robes, which were considered as the principal gifts ihe kings of Macedon nad to Destowt Prosperity gives some appearance of higher sentiments even io persons of mean spirit; and we see something of grandeur and importance about them in the elev^ation where Fortune ras placed them. But he who is inspired by real fortitude and magnanimity, will show it most by the dignity cl his- be navic'ar under losses, and in the most adverse fortune. So did Eumci es. When he had lost a battle to Antigonus in tlic tei- ritory of the Oc5^iiians in Cap'padccia, through the treachery of one of his officers, though he was forced to dy him.-^-elf, he did not suffer the traitor to escape to the enemy, but took him and hanged nim upon the spot. In his flight he took a difler- 3 nt way from tlie pursuers, and priveately turned round in such 1 manner, as to regain the field of battle. There he encamp T Oi\ h'i j//cv;xctv. Er>^ENES. -j. ed m order to bury the dead; whom he Collected and burnt vv'di the door posts of the neighbouring ^ illages. The bodies cf the officers and common soldiers were burnt upon separate piles, and when he had raised great monuments of earth over them he decamped. So tliat Antigonus coming that way af¬ terwards^ ^vas astonished at his firmne&s and intrepidity, " Another time he fell in with the baggage of Antigonbi, and ^^lld easily have taken it, together with many persons of free condition, a great numlier of slaves, and all the wealth w'hich had been an'assed in so many wars, and the plunder of so ma¬ ny cjuntries. But he was afraid tnat his men, when po::sessed of such riches and spoils, wmuld think themselves too heavy .or fligi't, and be too effeminate to bear the hardship of Iona wandering from place to place; and yet time he knew, was his j^rmcipal resource for getting clear of Antigonus. On the otiier hand, he was sensible it W'Ouhl be extremely difficult tc keep the Macedonians from flying upon the spoil, when it .aas so much within reach. He, thereforf*, ordered them tc refresh themselves, and feed their horses^ before they attack'-d enemy. In the meantime he prrjately sent a mes^enaer tc and to retire as fast as possible from p^air:, wnere no m^gi * easily be surrounded, to the font uf chb neighDourIng nicac- tain, where the cavalry could not ar t, 07 any troops lal. upn^> remarkable; for he never declined, on that account, any under¬ taking, however difficult or laborious. We have no portrait or statue of him. He would not suffer any to be made while he lived, and, at his death, he utterly forbade it. We are only told that he was a little man, and that he had not a commanding aspect. But a perpetual vivacity and cheerfulness, attended with a talent for raillery, which was expressed without any severity either of voice or look, made him more agreeable, even in age, than the young and the handsome. Theophrastus tells us, the ephori fined Archi- damns for marrying a little woman. She will bring us,*’ said they, a race of pigmies instead of kings.” During the reign of Agis, Alcibiades, upon his quitting Si cily, came an exile to Bacedaemon. And he had not been there long before he was suspected of a criminal commerce with Timaca the wife of Agis. Agis would not acknowledge the child which she had for his, but said it was the son of Al¬ cibiades. Duris informs us, that the queen was not displeased at the supposition; and that she used to whisper to her women, the child should be called Alcibiades, not Leotychidas. He adds, that Alcibiades himself scrupled not to say,—He did not approach Timaea to gratify his appetite, but from an am¬ bition to give kings to Sparta.” However, he was obliged to fly from Sparta, lest Agis should revenge the injury. And that prince, looking upon Leotychidas with an eye of suspi¬ cion, did not take notice of him as a son. Yet, in his last sick¬ ness, Leotychidas prevailed upon him, by his tears and entrea¬ ties, to acknowledge him as such before many \vitnesses. Notwithstanding this public declaration, Agis was no sooner dead, than Lysander, who had vanquished the Athenians at sea, and had great power and interest in Sparta, advanced Age- sllaus to the throne; alleging that Leotychidas was a bastard, and, consequently, had no right to it. Indeed, the generality of the citizens, knowing the virtues of Agesilaus, and that he had been educated with them in all the severity of the Spartan discipline, joined with pleasure in the scheme. There was then in Sparta a diviner, named Diopithes, well versed in ancient prophecies, and supposed an able interpretex of every thing relating to the gods. This man insisted, it was contrary to the divine wdll that a lame man should sit on the throne of Sparta; and on the day the point was to be decidetd, he publicly read this oracle:— AGESlLAu?i. 12 V Bewttre, proud Sparta, lest a maimed empire* Thy boasted strength impair; far other woes Than thou behold’st, await thee—borne awa} By the strong tide of war.- Lyeanaer observed upon this, that if the Spartans were so- acitous to act literally according to the oracle, thc'.y ought to beware of Leotychidas: For that heaven did not consider it as a matter of importance, if the king happened to have a lame foot: the thing to be guarded against, was the admission of a person who was not a genuine descendant of Hercules; for that would make the kingdom itself lame. Agesilaus added, that Neptune had borne witness to the bastardy of Leotychidas, in throwing Agis out of his bed by an earthquake;t ten months after which, and more, Leotychidas was born; though Agis did not cohabit with Timoea during that time. By these ways and means Agesilaus gained the diadem, and at the same time w^as put in possession of the private estate oi Agis; Leotychidas being rejected on account of his illegitima¬ cy. Observing, however, that his relations by the mother’s side, though men of merit, w’ere very poor, he gave a moiety of the estate among them; by which m.eans the inheritance procured him respect and honour, instead of envy and aversion. Xenophon tells us, that, by^ obedience to the laws of his country, Agesilaus gained so much power, that his will was not disputed. The case was this:—The principal authority was then in the hands of the ephori and the senate. .The ephori were annual magistrates, and the senators had their office for life. They were both appointed as a barrier against the power of the kings, as we have observed in the life of Lycurgus. The kings, therefore, had an old and hereditary antipathy to them, and perpetual disputes subsisted between them. But Agesilaus took a different course. He gave up all thoughts of opposition and contention, and paid his court to them on every occasion; taking care, in all his enterprises, to set out under their auspices. If he was called, he went faster than usual: if he was upon his throne administering justice, he rose up when the ephori approached: if any one of them was admit¬ ted a member of the senate, he sent him a robe and an ox,J as marks of honour. Thus, while he seemed to be adding to the dignity and importance of their body, he was privately increas- * The two legs of the Spartan constitution were the two kings, which, therefore, must be in a maimed and ruined state when one of them was gone. In fact, the consequence produced not n just and good monarch, but a tyrant. I See Xenophon, Grecian Hist, book iii. t Emblems of magistracy and pa^triotism. 128 AGESILAUS. ng his own strength, and the authority of the crown, throog!^ their support and attachment. In his conduct with respect to the other citizens, he behaved better as an enemy than as a friend. If he was severe to his enemies, he was not unjustly so: his friends he countenanced, even in their unjust pursuits. If his enemies performed any thing extraordinary, he was ashamed not to take honourable notice of it; his friends he could not correct when they did amiss. On the contrary, it was his pleasure to support them, and go the same lengths they did; for he thoug'ht no service dishonourable which he did in the way of friendship. Nay, if his adversaries fell into any misfortune, he was the first to svmpathize with them, and ready to give them his assistance if they desired it. By these means he gained the hearts of all his people. The ephori saw this, and, in their fear of his increasing pow¬ er, imposed a fine upon him; alleging this as the reason, that whereas the citizens ought to be in common, he appropriated them to himself. As the waiters upon physics say, that if war and discord were banished the universe, the heavenly bodies would stop their course, and all generation and motion would cease, by reason of that perfect harmony; so tiie great law¬ giver infused a spirit of ambition and contention into the Spar¬ tan constitui'on, as an incentive to virtue, and vv^ished always to se-:i some difference and dispute among the good and virtu¬ ous. M e thought that general complaisance, w^hich leads men to yield to the next proposal, \vithout exploring'each other’s intentions, and without debating on the consequences, was an inert principle, and deserved not the name of harmony.^ Some imagine that Homer saw this; and that he wmuld not have made Agamemnon rejoice,t when Ulysses and Achilles contended in such opprobrious terms, if he had not expected that some great benefit would arise to their affairs in general from, this particular quarrel among the great. This point, however, cannot be agreed to without some exception; for vi¬ olent dissensions are pernicious to a state, and productive of Mie greatest dangers. Agesilaus had not been long seated on the throne before ac counts were brougnt from Asia that the king of Persia was preparing a great fleet to dispossess the Lacedaemonians of theif dominion of the sea. Lysander was very desirous to be smii £gain into Asia, that be might support his friends whom he * Upon the same principle, we need not be gi’eatly alarmed at party dis piites in our own nation. Tliey will not expire but with liberty. And suci' I’erments are often necessary to throw off vicious h'ln ours. I Odyssey, lib. viii. AGESJLAUS. x25 had left governors and masters of the cities, and lii^any oi whom, having abused their authority to the purposes of vio lence and injustice, were banished, or put to death by the peo¬ ple. He therefore persuaded Agesilaus to enter Asia with his forces, and fix the seat of war at the greatest distance from Greece, before the Persian could have finished his prepara¬ tions. At the same time he instructed his friends in Asia to send deputies to Lacedaemon, to desire Agesilaus might be ap¬ pointed to that command. Agesilaus received their proposals in full assembly of the people, and agreed to undertake the war, on condition they Tfould give him thirty Spartans for his officers and counsellors, a select corps of two thousand newly enfranchised helot and six thousand of the allies. All this was readily decreed through the influence of Lysander, and Agesilaus sent out with the thirty Spartans. Lysander was soon at the head of the council, not only on account of his reputation and power, but the friendship of Agesilaus, who thought the procuring him this command a greater thing than the raising him to the throne. While his forces were assembling at Gersestus, he went with his friends to Aulis; and, passing the night there, he dreamed that a person addressed him in this manner:—You are sensi¬ ble, that, since Agamemnon, none has been appointed captain- general of all Greece but yourself, the king of Sparta; and you are the only person who have arrived at that honour. Since therefore, you command the same people, and go against the same enemies with him, as well as take your departure from the same place, you ought to propitiate the goddess with the same sacrifice which he offered here before he sailed.^’ Agesilaus at first thought of the sacrifice of Iphigenia, whom her father offered in obedience to the soothsayers. This cir¬ cumstance, however, did not give him any pain. In the morn¬ ing he related the vision to his friends, and told them he would honour the goddess with what a superior being might reason¬ ably be supposed to take pleasure in, and not imitate the sa¬ vage ignorance of his predecessor. In consequence of which, he crowned a hind with ffowers, and delivered her to his own soothsayer, with orders that he should perform the ceremony, and not the person appointed to that office by the Boeotians. The first magistrates of Boeotia, incensed at this innovation, sent their officers to insist that Agesilaus should not sacrifice contrary to the laws and customs of Boeotia. And the officers not only gave him such notice, but threw the thighs of the vic¬ tim from the altar. Agesilaus was highly offended at this treat¬ ment, and departed in great wrath with the Thebans. Nor could he conceive any hopes of success aftei* such an omen; VoL. IH--R tf?0 AGESILAUS. £>;ates oi that on the contrary, he concluded his operations would be incorn ' plete, and his expedition not answer the intention. When he came to Ephesus, the power and interest of Sander appeared in a ver}^ obnoxious li<.i;ht. The minister were continually crowded, and all applications were made to him; as if xlgesilaus had only the name and badges of command, to save the forms of lav/, and Lysander had in fact the power, and all business were to pass through nis hands. Indeed none of the generals vdio were sent to Asia, ever had greater sway, or were more dreaded than he; none ever served their friends more effectually, or humbled their enemies so much. These were things fresh in every one’s memory; and when they compared also the plain, the mild, and popular be haviour of Agesilaus, with the stern, the short, and authori tative manner of Lysander, they submitted to the latter en« tirely, and attended to him alone. The other Spartans first expressed their resentment, because that attention to Lysander made them appear rather as his ministers than as counsellors to the king. Afterwards Agesi¬ laus himself was piqued at it. For though he had no envy in his nature or jealousy of honours paid to merit, yet he was ambitious of glory, and firm in asserting his claim to it. Be¬ sides, he was apprehensive that if any great action were per¬ formed, it would be imputed to Lysander, on account of the superior light in which he had still been considered. The method he took to obviate it was this:—His first step was to oppose the counsels of Lysander, and to pursue mea¬ sures different from those for which he was most earnest. An¬ other step was to reject the petitions of all who appeared to apply to him through the interest of that minister. In mat¬ ters, too, which were brought before the king in a judicial way, those against whom Lysander exerted himself, were sure to gain their cause; and they for whom he appeared, could scarce escape without a fine. As these things happened not casually, but constantly, and of set purpose, Lysander perceived the cause, and concealed it not from his friends. He told them^ jt was on his account they were disgraced, and desired them to pay their court to the king, and to those who had greater interest with him than himself. These proceedings seemed invidious, and intended to depreciate the king: Agesilaus, therefore, to mortify him still more, appointed him his carver: and we are told, he said before a large company,—^^Now Ici them go and pay their court to my carver.” I^ysander, unable to bear this last instance cf contempt, said ,—‘‘ Agesilaus, you know very well how to lessen your friends.” Agesilaus answered, 1 know very well who want to he greater than myself.” But, perhaps,said Lysander agesllaus. 131 * that has rather been so represented to you, than attcinpieo oy me. Place me, however, where I may serve you 'without giving you the least umbrage.’^ Upon this Agesilaus appointed him his lieutenant in the Hellespont, where he persuaded Spithridates, a Persian in the province of Pharnabazus, to come over to the Greeks, with a considerable treasure, and two hundred horse. Yet he retain¬ ed his resentment, and nourishing the remembrance of the affront he had received, considcrecl how he might deprive the two families of the privilege of giving kings to Sparta,^ and open the way to that high station to all the citizens. And it seems that he would have raised great commotions in pursuit of his revenge, if he had not been killed in his expedition into Boeotia. Thus, ambitious spirits, when they go beyond certain bounds, do much more harm than good to the community. For if Lysander was to blame, as in fact he was, in indulging an unreasonable avidity of honour, Agesilaus might have known other methods to correct the fault of a man of his cha¬ racter and spirit. But, under the influence of the same pas¬ sion, the one knew not how to pay a proper respect to his general, nor the other how to bear the imperfections of his friend. At first Tissapbernes was afraid of Agesilaus, and undertook by treaty, that the king would leave the Grecian cities to be governed by their own laws: but afterwards, thinking his strength sufficiently increased, he declared war. This was an event very agreeable to Agesilaus. He hoped great things from this expedition;! and he considered as a circumstance which would reflect dishonour upon himself, that Xenophon could conduct ten thousand Greeks from the heart of Asia to the sea, and beat the king of Persia whenever his forces thought proper to engage him; if he, at the head of the Lace- da3monians, who were masters both at sea and land, could not distinguish himself before the Greeks by some great and memorable stroke. To revenge, therefore, the perjury of Tissaphernes by an artifice which justice recommended, he pretended immediately to march into Caria; and when the barbarian had drawn his forces to that quarter, he turned short, and entered Phrygia. There he took many cities, and made himself master of im mense treasures; by which he showed his friends, that to vio- .ate a treaty is to despise the gods; whilst to deceive an enemy * The Eiirytionlds and the Ag^idae. f He told the Persian ambassadors, “ He was much obliged to their mas. ter for the step he had taken, since by the violation of his oath lie had made the gods enemies to Persia, and friends to Greece ” 132 AGES1LAU5. is not only just but glorious, and the way to add profit to plea-' sure: but as he was inferior in cavalry, and the liver ol the victim appeared without a head, he retired to Ephesus, to raise that sort of troops which he wanted. The method he took was, to insist that every man of substance, if he did not choose to serve in person, should provide a horse and a man. Many accepted the alternative; and, instead of a parcel of in¬ different combatants,^ such as the rich would have made, he soon got a numerous and respectable cavalry: for those who did not choose to serve at all, or not to serve as horse, hired others who wanted neither courage nor inclination. In this he professedly imitated Agamemnon, who for a good mare excused a dastardly rich man his service.t One day he ordered his commissaries to sell the prisoners, but to strip them first. Their clothes found many purchasers; but as to the prisoners themselves, their skins being toft and white, by reason of their having lived so much within doors, the spectators only laughed at them, thinking they would be of no service as slaves. Whereupon Agesilaus, who stood by at the auction, said to his troops,—These are the persons whom ye fight with;’^ and then pointing to the rich spoils,— Those are the things ye fight for.’’ When the season called him into the field again, he gave it out that Lydia was his object. In this he did not deceive Tis- saphernes: that general deceived himself: for, giving no heed to the declarations of Agesilaus, because he ha& been imposed upon by them before, he concluded he would now enter Caria, a country not convenient for cavalry, in which his strength did not lie. Agesilaus, as he had proposed, went and sat down on the plains of Sardis, and Tissaphernes was forced to inarch thither in great haste with succours. The Persian,* as he advanced with his cavalry, cut off a number of the Greeks, who were scattered up and down for plunder. Agesilaus, however, considered that the enemy’s infantry could not yet be come up, whereas he had all his forces about him; and there¬ fore resolved to give battle immediately. Pursuant to this * the present cori’upt reading*, should be altered, from a passag*e in the Apophtheg-ms (Ed. St. p. 369), to S'cikolv k'M TTKaa-tty, The passag’e is this:— acag a-uvn^Bna-ctv nut Uttttoi ksli ctvS'^ic tTrirn^uu ftElAHW KAl nAOTSlON. •j* Then Menelaus his Podarg-us brings, And the fam’d courser of the king of kings, Whom rich Echepolus (more rich than brave) To ’scape the wars, to Agamemnon gave, (Ethe her name) at home to end his days, Base wealth preferring to eternal praise. Fupe, II. xxxu. Thus, Scipio, when he went to Africa, ordered the Sicilians either to attenc him, or to give him horses or men. AGESILAUa. I3ff resolution, he mixed his light-armed foot with the horse, and ordered them to advance swiftly to the charge, while he was bringing up the heavy-armed troops, which would not he far behind. The barbarians were soon put to flight; the Greeks pursued them, took their camp, and killed great numbers. In consec^uence of this success, they could pillage the king’s country in full security, and had all the satisfaction to see Tis- saphernes, a man of abandoned character, and one of the gi’eatest enemies to their name and nation, properly punished. For the king immediately sent Tithraustes against him, who cut off his head. At the same time he desired Agesilaus to grant him peace, promising him large sums,^ on condition that he would evacuate his dominions. Agesilaus answered, —His country was the sole arbitress of peace. For his own part, he rather chose to enrich his soldiers than himself; and the great honour among the Greeks, was to carry home spoils, and not presents, from their enemies.” Nevertheless, to gratify Tithraustes for destroying Tissaphernes, the common enemy of the Greeks, he decamped and retired into Phrygia, taking thirty talents of that viceroy to defray the charges of his march. As he was upon the road, he received the scvinle from the magistrates of Lacedaemon, which invested him with the com¬ mand of the navy as well as army; an honour which that city never granted to any one but himself. He was, indeed, (as Theopompus somewhere says,) confessedly the greatest and most illustrious man of his time; yet he placed his dignity ra¬ ther in his virtue than his power. NoLvithstanding, there was this flaw in his character: when he had the conduct of the navy given him, he committed that charge to Pisander, when there were other officers of greater age and abilities at hand. Pisan¬ der was his wife’s brother, and in compliment to her, he re¬ spected that alliance more than the pubfic good. He took up his own quarters in the province of Pharnabazus, where he not only lived in plenty, but raised considerable subsidies. From thence he proceeded to Paphlagonia, and drew Cotys, the king of that country, into his interest, who had been some time desirous of such a connection, on account of the virtue and honour which marked his character. Spith« ridates, who was the first person of consequence that came ever from Pharnabazus, accompanied Agesilaus in all his ex¬ peditions, and took a share in all his dangers. This Spithri- • He promised also to restore the Greek cities in Asia to their liberty, Oi*. condition tliat they paid the establislied tribute; and he Ivoped (lie •^aid) that this condescension would induce Agesilaus to accept tlie peace, j^*^d to ’’eturn home; the ratlier, because I'issaplici-iies, who was guilty of' the .’^vs# breach, was punished as li^ deserved. VoL. HI. 12 134 AGESILAUS. ilates had a son, a handsome youth, for whcm Agesilaus had v. particular regard, and a beautiful daughter in the flower of hei age, whom he married to Cotys. Cotys gave him a thousand horse and two thousand men, draughted from his light-armed troops, and with these he returned to Phrygia. Agesilaus committed great ravages in that province; but Pharnabazus did not wait to oppose him, or trust his own gar¬ risons. Instead of that, he took his most valuable things with iiim, and moved from place to place, to avoid a battle. Spith ridates, however, watched him so narrowly, that, with the i s- sistance of Plerippidas^ the Spartan, at last lie made himself master of his camp, and all his treasures. Herippidas made it his business to examine what part of the baggage w’as se¬ creted, and compelled the barbarians to restore it: he looked, indeed, with a keen eye into every thing. This provoked Spithridates to such a degree, that he immediately marched off with the Paphlagonians to Sardis. There was nothing in the whole war that touched Agesilaus more nearly than this. Beside the pain it gave him, to think he had lost Spithridates, and a considerable body of men with him, he was ashame-d of a mark of avarice and illiberal mean¬ ness, from which he had ever studied to keep both himself and his country. These were causes of uneasiness that might be publicly acknowledged; but he had a private and more sen¬ sible one, in his attachment to the son of Spithridates; thougl.', while he was with him, he had made it a point to combat thai attachment. One day Megabates approached to salute him, and Agesi¬ laus declined that mark of his affection. The youth, after this, was more distant in his addresses. Then Agesilaus was sorry for the repulse he had given him, and pretended to won¬ der why Megabates kept at such a distance. His friends told him, he must blame himself for rejecting his former applica¬ tion. He would still,said they, be glad to pay his most obliging respects to you; but take care you do not reject them again.*‘ Agesilaus was silent some time; and when he had considered the thing, he said,—Do not mention it to him: For this second victory over myself gives me more pleasure than I should have in turning all I look upon to gold.’^ T’his lesolution of his held while Megabates was with him; but he was so much affected at his departure, that it is hard to say iiow he would have behaved, if he had found him again. After this, Pharnabazus desired a conference with him; and (V])cllophanes of Cyzicus, at whose house they had both been Herippidas wds at the head of the new council of thirty, sent to Age^i Ians the second year of the war. • AdESILAUS. 135 riitertained, procured an interview. Agesiiaus came first to the place appointed, with his friends, and sat down upon the long grass under a shade, to wait for Pharnabazus. When the t^ersian grandee came, his servants spread soft skins and beau¬ tiful pieces of tapestry for him; but, upon seeing Agesiiaus so seated, he was ashamed to make use of them, and placed him¬ self carelessly upon the grass in the same manner, though his robes were delicate and of the finest colours. After mutual salutations, Pharnabazus opened the confer¬ ence; and he had just cause of complaint against the r^acedse- monians, after the services he had done them in the Athenian war, and the late ravages in his country. Agesiiaus saw the Spartans were at a loss for an answer, and kept their eyes fixed upon the ground; for they knew that Pharnabazus was injured. However, the Spartan general found an answer, which was as follows:—While we were friends to the king of Persia, we treated him and his in a friendly manner: now we are ene¬ mies, you can expect nothing from us but hostilities. There¬ fore, while you, Pharnabazus, choose to be a vassal to the king, we wound him through your sides. Only be a friend and ally to the Greeks, and shake off that vassalage, and from that moment you have a right to consider these battalions, these arms and ships,—in short, all that we are or have, as ecuardians of your possessions and your liberty; without which nothing is great or desirable among men.^ Pharnabazus then explained himself in these terms:—If the king sends another liutenant in my room, I will be for you; but while he continues me in the government, I will, to the best of my power, repel force with force, and make repri¬ sals upon you for him. Agesiiaus, charmed with this reply, took his hand, and rising up with him, said,—Heaven grant, that, with such sentiments as these, you may be our friend, and not our enemy!’^ As Pharnabazus and his company were going away, his son. who was behind, ran up to Agesiiaus, and said, with a smile,— Sir, I enter with you into the rights of hospitality:’^ at the same time he gave him a javelin which he had in his hand. Agesiiaus received it; and, delighted with his looks and kind regards, looked about for something handsome to give a youth of liis princely appearance in return. Plis secretary Adseus happening to have a horse with magnificent furniture just by, he ordered it to be taken off and given to the young man. Nor did he forget him afterwards. In process of time, this * He added,—“However, if we continue at war, I will, lor the future, avoid your teriitoiies as much as possible, and rather forage and raise con ti’ibutions in any other province.”— Xen, Grec. \Vai\ b. iv 136 AGESILAUS. Persian was driven from his heme by his brotliers, and forced to take refuge in Peloponnesus. Agesilaus then took him into his protection, and served him on all occasions. The Persian had a favourite in the wrestling ring at Athens, who wanted to be introduced at the Olympic games; but as he was past the proper age, they did not choose to admit him.^ In this case, the Persian applied to Agesilaus, who, willing to oblige him in this as well as other things, procured the young man the ad> mission he desired, though not without much difficulty. Agesilaus, indeed, in other respects, was strictly and inflexi bly just; but where a man^s friends were concerned, he thought a rigid regard to justice a mere pretence.—There is still ex¬ tant a short letter of his to Hydrieus the Carian, which is a proof of what we have said:—If Nicias is innocent, acquit him; If he is not innocent, acquit him on my account: How ever, be sure to acquit him.’^ Such was the general character of Agesilaus as a friend. There were, indeed, times when his attachments gave way to the exigencies of state. Once being obliged to decamp in a hurry, he was leaving a favourite sick behind him. The fa¬ vourite called after him, and earnestly entreated him to come back; upon which he turned, and said,^—“ How little consistent are love and prudence.’’ This particular we have from Hie¬ ronymus the philosopher. Agesilaus had been now two years at the head of the army, and was become tbe general subject of discourse in the upper provinces. His wisdom, his disinterestedness, his moderation, was the theme they dwelt upon with pleasure. Whenever he made an excursion, he lodged in the temples most renowned for sanctity: and whereas on many occasions, we do not choose that men should see what we are about, he was desirous to have the gods inspectors and witnesses of his conduct. Among so many thousands of soldiers as he had, there was scarce one who had a worse or a harder bed than he. He was so fortifi¬ ed against heat and cold, that none was so well prepared as himself for whatever seasons the climate should produce. The Greeks in Asia never saw a more agreeable spectacle, than the Persian governors and generals, who had been insuf¬ ferably elated with power, and had rolled in riches, and luxury, humbly submitting and paying their court to a man in a coarse cloak, and, upon one laconic word, conforming to his senti¬ ments, or rather transforming themselves into another shape. T^Iany thought that line of Timotheus applicable on this oc¬ casion:— * Sometimes boys had a share in tliese exhibitions, who, after a r^^rbii^’ were exclrd'="d the lists AGESILAIjS. 13? Maks is the god; and Greece reveres not GoLi). All Asia was now ready to revolt from the Persians. Age* silaus brought the cities under excellent regulations, and set- tied their police, without putting to death, or banishing a sin¬ gle subject. After which he resolved to change the seat of war, and to remove it from the Grecian sea to the heart of Persia, that the king might have to fight for Ecbatana and Su¬ sa, instead of sitting at his ease there to bribe the orators, and hire the states of Greece to destroy each other. But amidst these schemes of his, Epicydidas the Spartan came to acquaint him, that Sparta was involved in a Grecian war; and that the ephori had sent him.orders to come home, and defend his own country:— Unhappy Greeks! barbarians to each other! What better name can we give that envy which incited them to conspire and combine for their mutual destruction, at a time when fortune had taken them upon her wings, and was carry¬ ing them against the barbarians; and yet they clipped her wings with their own hands, and brought the war home to them¬ selves, which was hayjpily removed into a foreign country.^ I can not, indeed, agree with Demaratus of Corinth, when he says, those Greeks fell short of a great happiness, who did not live to see Alexander seated on the throne of Darius. Bui 1 think the Greeks had just cause for tears, when they consi dered that they left that to Alexander and the Macedonians, which might have been efiected by the generals wnom they slew in the fields of Leuctra, Coronea, Corinth, and Ai cadia. However, of all the actions of Agesilaus, there is none wViiifii had greater propriety, or was a stronger instance of his obedi¬ ence to the laws and justice to the public, tlian Ins immediate return to Sparta. Hannibal, though his affairs were in a des¬ perate condition, and he was almost beaten out of Italy, made a difficulty of obeying the summons of his countrymen, to go and defend them in a war at home. And Alexander made a jest of the information he received, that Agis had fought a battle with Antipater. He said,—It seems, my friends, that while we were conquering Darius here, there was a combat of * That corniption wbicli l)roug'lit the states of Greece to take Persian g*ol(l, iindoubtedly deserves censure. Yet we must take leave to observe, that the divisions and jealousies whicli reig'ned in Greece were tlie support-of it; liberties, and that Persia was not conquered till nothing’ but the sliadow of these liberties remained. Were there, indeed, a number of little indepen* dent states, which made justice the constant rule of their conduct to eact otlier, and which would be always ready to unite upon any alarm from a for midiible enemy, they mig-ht preserve their liberties inviolate forever VoL. HI,-S 12^ r38 AGESILAUS. mice m x\rcadia.^’ How happy^ then, was Sparta m the re spect which Agesilaiis paid her, in his reverence for the laws' No sooner was the scytale brought him, though in the midst of his power and good fortune, than he resigned and abandoned his flourishing prospects, sailed home, and left his great work unfinished Such was the regret his friends as well as his al¬ lies had for the loss of him, that it was a strong confutetion of the saying of Demostratus the Phseacian,—That the Lace¬ daemonians excelled in public, and the Athenians in private cliaracters.’^ For •though he had great merit as a king and a general, yet still he was a more desirable friend, and an agree¬ able companion. As the Persian money had the impression of an archer, he said,—He was driven out of Asia bv ten thousand of the king’s archers.”^ For the orators of Athens and Thebes hav¬ ing been bribed with so many pieces of money, had excited their countrymen to take up arms against Sparta. When he had crossed the Hellespont, he marched through Thrace without asking leave of any of the barbarians. He only desired to know of each people,—Whether they would have him pass as a friend or as an enemy?” All the rest re¬ ceived him with tokens of friendship, and showed him all the civilities in their power, on his way; but the Trariians,t of whom Xerxes is said to have bought a passage, demanded of Agesilaus a hundred talents of silver, and as many women. He answered the messenger ironically,—Why did they not then come to receive them?” At the same time he marched forward, and finding them drawn up to oppose him, he gave them battle, and routed them with great slaughter. He sent some of his people to put the same question to the king of Macedon, who answered, ‘‘ I will consider of it” Let him consider,” said he, in the meantime we march-” The king, surprised and awed by his spirit, desired him to pass as a friend. The Thessalians were confederates \.*ith the enemies oi Sparta, and, therefore, he laid waste their territories. To the cily of Larissa, indeed, he offered his friendship, by his ambas saclors, Xenocles and Scytha: but the people seized them and put them in prison. His troops so resented this affront, til'',! Tithraiistes sent Timocrates of Khodes into Greece with fifty talents, which he distributed at Thebes, Argos, and Corinth; but, according to Xenophon, Athens had no share in that distribution. ■f Resides the Trallians in Lydia, there was a people of that name in Illy- ricum, upon the confines of Thrace and Macedonia. So at least, according to Lacier, Theopompus (ap. Steph.) testifies. One of the MSS. instead of gives us In Op. Mor. 373, 21. they are called T^rnj In:. Possibly they might be the 7’riballi AGESILAUS, 139 they would have had him go and lay siege to the place. Age silaus, however, was of another mind. He said,—He wouhj not lose one of his ambassadors for gaining all Thessaly,^’ anc‘ he afterwards found means to recover them by treaty. Nor are we to wonder that Agesilaus took this step, since, upon news being brought him that a great battle had been fought near Corinth, in which many brave men were suddenly taken off, but that the loss of the Spartans was small in com])arisoii with that of the enemy, he was not elevated in the least. On the contrary, he said, with a deep sigh,—Unhappy Greece! why hast thou destroyed so many brave men with thy own hands, who, had they lived, might have conquered all the bar¬ barians in the world.'^ However, as the Pharsalians attacked and harassed him m his march, he engaged them with five hundred horse and put them to flight. He was so much pleased with this success, that he erected a trophy under Mount Narthacium; and he valued himself the more upon it, because with so small a num¬ ber of his own training he had beaten a people who reckoned theirs the best cavalry in Greece. Here Diphridas, one of the ephori^ met him and gave him orders to enter Boeotia immedi ately. And though his intention was to do it afterwards, when he had strengthened his army with some reinforcements, he thought it was not right to disobey the magistrates. He, there¬ fore, said to those about him,—‘^Now comes the day for which we were called out of Asia.^^ At the same time he sent for two cohorts from the army near Corinth. And the Lace¬ daemonians did him the honour to cause proclamation to be made at home, that such of the youth as were inclined to go and assist the king, might give in their names. All the young men in Sparta presented themselves for that service; but the magistrates selected only fifty of the ablest, and sent them. Agesilaus having passed the straits of Thermopylae, and traversed Phocis, which was in friendship with the Spartans, entered Boeotia, and encamped upon the plains of Chaeronea. He had scarce entrenched himself, when there happened an eclipse of the sun.^ At the same time he received an account that Pisander was defeated at sea, and killed by Pharnabazus and Conon. He was much afflicted with his own loss, as well as that of the public.—Yet, lest his arm}', which was going to give battle, should be discouraged at the news, he ordered his messengers to give out that Pisander was victorious. Nay, \ e appeared in public with a chaplet of flowers, returned solemn * This eclipse happened on the twenty-ninth of Aiig’ust, in the third ycai of the ninety-sixtJ Olympiad, three hundred and ninety-two years before the Christian era. .40 AGESILAUS. thanks for the pretended success, and sent pcrtions of the sa crifice to his friends When he came up co the Coronea,^ and was in view of the enemy, he drew up his army. The left win^ he ^ave to the Orchomenians, and took the rierht himself. The Thebans also putting themselves in order of battle, placed themselves on the right, and the Argives on the left. Xenophon says, that this was the most furious battle in his time; and he certainl}/ was able to judge, for he fought in it for Agesilaus, with whom he returned from Asia. The first charge was neither violent nor lasting: the The¬ bans soon routed the Orchomenians, and Agesilaus the Ar¬ gives. But when both parties were informed that their left wings were broken and ready for flight, both hastened their relief. At this instant Agesilaus might have secured to him¬ self the victorv without anv risk, if he would have suffered the Thebans to pass, and then have charged them in the rear:t But borne along by his fury, and an ambition to display his valour, he attacked them in front, in the confidence of beating them upon equal terms. They received him, however, with equal vivacity, and great efforts were exerted in all quarters, especially where Agesilaus and his fifty Spartans were en¬ gaged. It was a happy circumstance that he had those volun¬ teers, and they could not have come more seasonably: for they fought with the most determined valour, and exposed their persons to the greatest dangers in his defence; yet they could not prevent his being wounded. He was pierced through his armour, in many^ places, with spears and swords; and though they formed a ring about him, it was with difficulty they brought him ofi'alive, after having killed numbers of the ene¬ my, and left not a few of their own body dead upon the spot. At last finding it impracticable to break the Theban front, they were obliged to have recourse to a manoeuvre, which at first they scorned. They opened their ranks, and let the The¬ bans pass; after which, observing that they marched in a dis¬ orderly manner, they made up again, and took them in flank and rear. They could not, however, break them. The The¬ bans retreated to Helicon, valuing themselves much upon the battle, because their pSrt of the army was a full match for the I^acedsemonians. Agesilaus, though he was much weakened by his wounds, * In the printed text it is Coronea^ nor have we any various reading*. But undoubtedly Chxronea, upon the Cephisus, was the place wheie the battle was foug*ht; and we must not confound it with the battle of Coronea in Thessaly, fought fifty-three years before. f Xenophon gives another turn to the matter; for with liim Agesilaus w as never wrong*. AGESILAUS. 141 would not retire to his tent, till he had been carried through all his battalions, and had seen the dead borne off upon their arms. Meantime he was informed, that a party of the enemy had taken refuge in the temple of the Itonian Minerva, and he gave orders that they should be dismissed in safety. Before this temple stood a trophy, which the Boeotians had formerly erected, when, under the conduct of Sparton, they had defeat¬ ed the Athenians, and killed their general Tolmides.* Early next morning, Agesilaiis, willing to try whether the Thebans would renew the combat, commanded his men to wear garlands^ and the music to play, while he reared and adorned a trophy in token of victory. At the same time the enemy applied to him for leave to carry off their dead; which circumstance confirmed the victory to him. He therefore granted them a truce for that purpose, and then caused him¬ self to be carried to Delphi, where they were celebrating the Pythian games. There he ordered a solemn procession in honour of the god, and consecrated to him the tenth of the spoils he had taken in Asia. The offering amounted to a him dred talents. Upon his return to Sparta, he was greatly beloved by the citizens, who admired the peculiar temperance of his life. For he did not, like other generals, come changed from a foreign country, nor in fondness for the fashions he had seen there, disdain those of his own. On the contrary, he showed as much attachment to the Spartan customs, as those who had never passed the Eurotas. He changed not his repasts, his baths, the equipage of his wife, the ornaments of his armour, or the furniture of his house. He even let his doors remain, which were so old that they seemed to be those set up by Aris- todemus.t Xenophon also assures us, that his daughter’s car¬ riage was not in the least richer than those of other young ladies. These carriages, called canthra^ and made use of by the virgins in their solemn processions, were a kind of wooden chaises, made in the form of griffins, or goat-stags.f Xeno¬ phon has not given us the name of this daughter of Agesilaiis: and Dicsearchus is greatly dissatisfied, that neither her name is preserved, nor that of the mother of Epaminondas. But we find by some Lacedaemonian inscriptions, that the wife of Agesilaus was called Cleora, and his daughters, Apolia and * In the battle of Coronea. •f- Aristodemus the son of Hercules, and founder of the royal family of ftpaila, flourished eleven hundred years before the Christian era^ so that the g’ates of Ag'esilaus’s palace, if set up by Aristodemus, had then stood seven hundred and eig*ht years. t In the orig-inal, r^uy(?ici.ay. And 'ray Tat o^ct^stTat seems more applicable ti > the •atter sense. f Lucius Marcius Philippus, one of the greatest orators of his time. He was father-in-law to Augustus, having married his mother Attia Ilora^f* speaks of him, lib. i. ep. 7. POMPEY. IbS ever, that Luciillus had them all the year in his menagorie?\ This being reported to Pompey^ he said,—Does Pompey’s life depend upon the luxury of Lucullus?^^ Then, without any regard to the physician, he ate something that was easy to be had. But this happened at a later period in life. While he was very young, and served under his father, who ♦vas carrying on the war against Cinna,^ one Lucius Teren- tius was his comrade, and they slept in the same tent. This Terentius, gained by Cinna’s money, undertook to assassinate Pompey, while others set fire to the general’s tent. Pompey got information of this when he was at supper, and it did not put him in the least confusion. He drank more freely, and caressed Terentius more than usual; but when they were to have gone to rest, he stole out of the tent, and went and plant¬ ed a guard about his father. This done, he waited quietly for the event. Terentius, as soon as he thought Pompey was asleep, drew his sword, and stabbed the coverlets of the bed in many places, imagining that he was in it. Immediately after this there was a great mutiny in the camp. *rhe soldiers, who hated their general, were determined to go over to the enemy, and began to strike their tents and take up their arms. The general, dreading the tumult, did not dare to make his appearance. But Pompey was every where; he beg¬ ged them with tears to stay, and at last threw himself upon his face in the gateway. There he lay w^eeping, and bidding them, if they would go out, tread upon him. Upon this they were ashamed to proceed, and all, except eight hundred, re¬ turned, and reconciled themselves to their general. After the death of Strabo, a charge was laid that he had con¬ verted the public money to his own use, and Pompey. as his heir, was obliged to answer it. Upon inquiry, he found that Alexander, one of the enfranchised slaves, had secreted most of the money; and he took cafe to inform the magistrates of the particulars. He was accused, however, himself, of liaving taken some hunting nets and books out of the spoils of Ascu- lum; and, it is true, his father gave them to him when he took the place; but he lost them at the return of Cinna to Rome, when that general’s creatures broke into and pillaged his house. In this afl'air he maintained the combat w’cll with his adversary at the bar, and showed an acuteness and firmness above his years; which gained him so much applause, that Antistius the praetor, who had the hearing of the cause, con¬ ceived an affection for him, and offered him his daughter in * In the year of Rome 666. And as Pompey was born the same yeai with Cicero, viz, in the year of Rome 647, he must, in this war with Cinna, have been nineteen years old. 166 POMPEl. marriage. The proposal, accordingly, was made to his friends. Pompey accepted it; and the' treaty ^vas concluded privately. The people, however, had some notion of the thing from the pams which Antistius took for Pompey; and at last, when he pronounced the sentence, in the name of all the judges, by whicii Pompey'V/as acquitted, the multitude, as it were, upon a signal given, broke out in the old marriage acclamation of Talasio. The origin of the term is said to have been this:—When tin* principal Romans seized the daughters of the Sabines, who were come to see the games they were celebrating to entrap them, some herdsmen and shepherds laid hold of a virgin re¬ markably tall and handsome; and, lest she should be taken from them as they carried her off, they cried all the way they went Trilasio, Talasius was a young man, universally beloved and admired; therefore, all who heard them, delighted with the in tention, joined in the cry, and accompanied them with plau¬ dits. They tell us the marriage of Talasius proved fortunate; and thence all bridegrooms, by way of mirtli, were welcomed with that acclamation. This is the most probable account 1 can find of the term.^' Pompey in a little time married Antistia, and .afterwards repaired to Cinna’s camp. But finding some unjust charges laid against him there, he took the first private opportunity to withdraw. As he was no where to be found, a rumour prevailed in the army that Cinna had put the young man to death: upon which, numbers who hated Cinna, and could no longer bear with his cruelties, attacked his quarters. He lied for his life; and being overtaken by one of the inferior officers, who pursued him with a drawn sword, he fell upon his knees, and offered him his ring, which was of no small value. The officer answered, with great ferocity,—I am not come to sign a contract, but to punish an impious and lawless tyrant,’^ and then killed him upon the spot. Such was the end of Cinna: after whom Carbo, a tyrant still more savage, took the reins of government. It was not long, however, before Sylla returned to Italy, to the great satisfac¬ tion of most of the Romans, who, in their present unhappy circumstances, thought the change of their master no small advantage. To such a desperate state had their calamities brought them, that no longer hoping for liberty, they sought only the most tolerable servitude. At that time Pompey was in the Picene, whither he had re* tired, partly because he had lands there, but more on accouni * See moie of this in the life of Romulus. POxMPKY. 167 of an old attacnxnent which the cities in that district had to his family. As he observ^ed that the best and most considerable of the citizens left their houses, and took refuge in Sylla^s camp as in a port, he resolved to do the same. At the same time, he thought it did not become him to go like a fugitive who wanted protection, but rather in a respectable manner, at the head of an army. He therefore tried what levies he could make in the Picene,^ and the people readily repaired to his standard; rejecting the applications of Carbo. On this occasion, one Vindius happening to say,—Pompey is just come from under the hands of the pedagogue, and all on a sudden is be come a demagogue among you,^^ they were so provoked, that th^ fell upon him and cut him in pieces. Thus Pompey, at the age of twenty-three, without a com mission from any superior authority, erected himself into a general; and having placed his tribunal in the most public part of the great city of Auximum, by a formal decree, com¬ manded the Ventidii, two brothers who opposed him in behalf of Carbo, to depart the city. He enlisted soldiers; he appointed tribunes, centurions, and other officers, according to the es¬ tablished custom. He did the same in all the neighbouring cities; for the partisans of Carbo retired and gave place to him, and the rest were glad to range themselves under his banners; so that in a little time he raised three complete legions, and furnished himself with provisions, beasts of burden, carriages; in short, with the whole apparatus of war. In this form he moved towards Sylla, not by hasty marches, nor as if he wanted to conceal himself; for he stopped by the way to harass the enemy, and attempted to draw offifrom Car¬ bo all the parts of Italy through which he passed. At last, three generals of the opposite party, Carinna, Coelius, and Bru¬ tus, came against him all at once, not in front, or in one body, but they hemmed him in with their three armies, in hopes to demolish him entirely. Pompey, far from being terrified, assembled all his forces, and charged the army of Brutus at the head of his cavalry. The Gaulish horse, on the enemy’s side, sustained the first shock;, but Pompey attacked the foremost of them, who was a man of prodigious strength, and brought him down with a push of his spear. The rest immediately fled, and threw the infantry into such disorder, that the whole was soon put to flight. Tliis produced so great a quarrel among the tliiee ge¬ nerals, that they parted, and took separate routes. In conse¬ quence of which, the cities, concluding that the fears of the enemy liad made them part, adopted the interests of Pompey * New the marcli of Aircrktui. 168 POMPEY. Not lorij^ after, Scipio the consul advanced to engage him; but before the infantry were near enough to discharge their lances, Scipio’s soldiers saluted those of Pompey, and came- over to them. Scipio, therefore, was forced to fly. At last Carbo sent a large body of cavalry against Pompey, near the river Arsis. He gave them so warm a reception that they were soon broken, and in the pursuit drove them upon im¬ practicable ground; so that finding it impossible to escape, they surrendered theni'selvcs with their arms and horses. Sylla had rxot yet been informed of these transactions; but upon the first news of Pompey’s being engaged with so many adversaries, and such respectable generals, he dreaded the con¬ sequence, and marched with all expedition to his assistance. Pompey, having intelligence of his approach, ordered his offi¬ cers to see that the troops were armed, and drawn up in such a manner as to make the handsomest and most gallant appear¬ ance before the commander-in-chief; for he expected great honours from him, and he obtained greater. Sylla no sooner saw Pompey advancing to meet him, with an army in excel¬ lent condition, both as to the age and size of the men, and the spirits which success had given them, than he alighted; and upon being saluted, of course, by Pompey as imperator^ he re¬ turned his salutation with the same title: though no one ima¬ gined that he would have honoured a young man, not yet admitted into the senate, with a title for which he was con¬ tending with the Scipios and the Marii. The rest of his be¬ haviour was as respectable that in the first interview. He used to rise up and uncover his head whenever Pompey came to him; which he was rarely observed to do for any otlier, though he had a number of persons of distinction about him. Pompey was not elated with these honours. On the con¬ trary, when Sylla wanted to send him into Gaul, where Me- tellus had done nothing worthy of the forces under his direc¬ tion, he said,—It v/as not right to take the command from a man who was his superior both in age and character; but if Metellus should desire his assistance in the conduct of the war, it was at his service.’^ Metellus accepted the proposal, and wrote to him to come; whereupon he entered Gaul, and not only signalized his own valour and capacity, but excited once more the spirit of adventure in Metellus, which was al¬ most extinguished with age: just as brass, in a state of fusion, is said to melt a cold plate sooner than fire itself. But as it is not usual when a champion has distinguished himself in the lists, and gained the prize in all the games, to record, or to take any notice of the performances of his younger years; so the actions of Pompey, in this period, though extraordinary »n themselve:’., yet being eclipsed bv the number and im- POMPEY. 169 portaiice of his later expeditions, I shall forbear to nienlion, Test, by dv ellin*^ upon his first essays, I should not leave my¬ self room for those greater and more critical events which mark his character and turn of mdnd. Aftei Sylla had made himself master of Italy, and was de¬ clared dictator, he rewarded his principal officers with riches and honours; making them liberal grants of whatever they ap¬ plied for. But he was most struck with the excellent qualities of Pompey, and was persuaded, that he owed more to his sei- vices than those of any other man. He, therefore, resolved, if possible, to take him into his alliance; and as his wife Mc- tella, was perfectly of his opinion, they persuaded Pompey to divorce Antistia, and to marry Emilia, the daughter-in-law of Sylla, whom Metella had by Scaurus, and who was at that time pregnant by another marriage. Nothing could be more tyrannical than this new contract It was suitable, indeed, to the times of Sylla; but ill became the character of Pompey to take Emilia, pregnant as she was, from another, and bring her into his house, and at the same time to repudiate Antistia, distressed as she must be, for a father whom she had lately lost on account of this cruel hus¬ band: for Antistius was killed in the senate house, because it was thought his regard for Pompey had attached him to the cause of Sylla: and her mother, upon this divorce, laid violent hands upon herself. This was an additional scene of misery in that tragical marriage; as was also the fate of ^Emilia in Pompey’s house, who died there in childbed. Soon after this, Sylla received an account that Perpeiina had made himself master of Sicily, where he afforded an asylum fo the party which opposed the reigning power. Carbo was hovering with a fleet about that island; Domitius had entered Africa; and many other persons of great distinction, who had escaped the fury of the proscriptions by flight, had taken re¬ fuge there. Pompey was sent against them with a considera ¬ ble armamen-t. He soon forced Perpenna to quit the island, and having recovered the cities, which had been much harass ed by the armies that were there before his, he behaved tt* them all with great humanity, except the Mamertines, who were seated in Messina. That people had refused to appear before his tribunal, and to acknowledge his jurisdiction, alleg¬ ing, that they stood excused by an ancient privilege granted them by the Romans. lie answered,—Will you never have done with citing laws and privileges to men who wear swords?” His behaviour, too, to Carbo, in his misfortunes, appeared inhuman. For if it was necessary, as perhaps it was, to put him to death, he should have done it immeciiately, and then it would have been the work of him that' gave orders for if. Voi.. HI.-Y l.T ITU POMPEV. i)ut^ instead of that, he caused a Roiuan, who yjeen Iick* noured with three consulships, to be brought in chains before his tribunal, where he sat in judgment on him, to the regret of all the spectators, and ordered him to be led oil' to execu tion. When they were carrying him of!’, and he beheld the sword drawn, he was so much disordered at it, that he was forced to beg a moment’s respite, and a private place for the necessities of nature. Caius Oppius,^ the friend of Caesar, writes, that Ponmey likewise treated Quintus Valerius with inhumanity. For, knowing him to be a man of letters, and that few ^vere to be f'ompared to him in point of knowledge, he took him (he says) aside, and after he had walked with him till he had satisfied himself upon several points of learning, commanded his ser¬ vants to take him to the block. But we must be very cautious how we give credit to Oppius, when he speaks of the friends and enemies of Caesar. Pompey, indeed, was under the ne¬ cessity of punishing the principal enemies of Sylla, particularly when they were taken publicly. But others he suffered to escape, and even assisted some in getting off. He had resolved to chastise the Himereans for attempting to support his enemies, when the orator Sthenis told him,— He wmuld act unjustly, if he passed by the person that was guilty, and punished the innocent.” Pompey asked him,— Who was the guilty person?” and he answered,—I am the man. I persuaded my friends, and compelled my enemies to take the measures they did.” Pompey, delighted with his frank confession and noble spirit, forgave him first, and after¬ wards all the people of Himera. Being informed that his sol¬ diers committed great disorders in their excursions, he sealed up their swords; and if any of them broke the seal he took care to have them punished. While he was making these and other regulations in Sicilv, he received a decree of the senate and letters from Sylla, in which he was commanded to cross over to Africa, and to carry on the war, with the utmost vigour, against Domiti»^s, who bad assembled a much more powerful army than that which Ma¬ rius carried, not long before, from Africa to Italy, when he made himself master of Rome, and of a fugitive became a ty¬ rant. Pompey soon finished his preparations or this expe¬ dition; and leaving the command in Sicily to Memmius, his sister’s husband, he set sail with a hundred and twenty armed vessels, and eight hundred store ships, laden with provisionsj * The same who wrote an account of the Spanish war. He was also a biographer; but his works of that kind are lost. He was mean enough write a treatise to show, that Cacsario was not the son of Caesar. POMPEY. 171 firms, money and machines of war. Paitof his fleet landec at Utica, and part at Cartha^^e; immediately after which seven thousand of the enemy came over to him; and he had brought with him six legions complete. On his arrival he met with a whimsical adventure. Some of his soldiers, it seems, found a treasure, and shared conside¬ rable sums. The thing getting air, the rest of the troops con- clud.id, that the place was full of money, which the Carthagi- r/iaxis had hid there in some time of public distress. Pompey, therefore, could make no use of them for several days, as they were searching for treasures; and he had nothing to do but to walk about and amuse himself with the sight of so many thousands digging and turning up the ground. At last they gave up the point, and bade him lead them w'herever lie pleas¬ ed, for they were sufficiently punished for their folly. Domitius advanced to meet him, and put his troops in order of battle. There happened to be a channel between them^ craggy and difficult to pass. In the morning it began, more¬ over, to rain, and the wind blew violently; insomuch that Domitius, not imagining there would be any action that day, ordered his army to retire. But Pompey looked upon this as his opportunity, and he passed the defile with the utmost ex¬ pedition. The enemy stood upon their defence, but it was in a disorderly and tumultuous manner, and the resistance they mad( was neither general nor uniform. Besides, the wind and rain beat in their faces. The storm incommoded the Romans too, for they could not well distinguish each other. Nav, Pompey himself was in danger of being killed by a soldier, who asked him the word ana received not a speedy^ answer. At length, however, he routed the enemy with great slaugh¬ ter; not above three thousand of them escaping, out of twenty thousand. The soldiers then saluted Pompey imperalor^ but he said he would not accept that title while the enemy’s camp stood untouched; therefore, if they chose to confer such an honour upon him, they must first make themselves masters of the entrenchments. At that instant they advanced with great fury against them Pompey fought without his helmet, for fear of such an acci¬ dent as he had just escaped. The camp was taken, and Do mitius slain; in consequence of which, most of the cities im mediately submitted, and the rest were taken by assault. He took larbis, one of the confederates of Domitius, prisoner, and bestowed his crown on Hiempsal. Advancing with the sanu! tide of fortune, and while his army had all the spirits inspired by success, he entered Numidia, in which he continued his march for several days, and subdued all that came in his wav 'I'lius he revived the terror of the Roman name, which the bar^ 172 POMPEY. oarians had begun to disregaid. Nay, he chose not to leave the savage beasts in the deserts without giving them a speci¬ men of the Roman valour and success. Accordingly, he spent a lew days iii hunting lions and elephants. The whole time he passed in Africa, tliey tell us, was not above forty days; in which he defeated the enemy, reduced the whole country, and brought the affairs of its kings under proper regulations, though he was only in his twenty-fourth year. Upon his return to Utica, he received letters from Sylla, in which he was ordered to send home the rest of the army, and to wah there with one legion only for a successor. This gave him. a great deal of uneasiness, which he kept to himself, but the army expressed their indignation aloud; insomuch that, when he entreated them to return to Italy, they launched out into abusive terms against S3~Ila, and declared they would ne¬ ver abandon Pompey, or suffer him to trust a tyrant. At first he endeavoured to pacify them with mild representations; and when he found those had no effech he descended from the tri¬ bunal, and retired to his tent in tears. However, they went and took him thence, and placed him again upon the tribunal, where they spent great part of tlm day; they insisting that he should stdij and keep the command, and he in persuading them to obey Sylla’s orders, and to form no new faction. At last, seeing no end of their clamours and importunity, he assured them with an oath,—That he ^vould kill himself if they at tempted to force him.^^ And even this hardly brought them to desist. The first news that Sylla heard was, that Pompey had re volted; upon which he said to his friends,—Then it is my fate to have to contend with boys in my old age.^^ This he said, because Marius, who was very young, had brought him into so much trouble and danger. But when he received true information of the affair, and observed that all the people flocked out to receive him, and to conduct him home with marks of great regard, he resolved to exceed them in his re¬ gards, if possible. He, therefore, hastened to meet him, and embracing him in the most affectionate manner, saluted him aloud by the surname of Magnus^ or the Great; at the same time, he ordered all about him to give him the same appella tion. Others say, it was given him by the whole army in Africa, but did not generally obtain till it was authorized by Sylla. It is certain he was the last to take it himself, and he did not make use of it till a long time after, when he was sent into Spain with the dignity of pi'oconsul against Sertorius. Then he began to write himself, in his letters and in all his edicts, Pompey the Great; for the world was accustomed to the name, and it was no lon2:er invidious. In this n'^spect we ma\ POMPEY. 173 joistly admire the v/isdom of the ancient Romai.s, who be¬ stowed on their 2;reat men such honourable naines and titles, not only for military achievements, but for the great qualities and arts which adorn civil life. Thus, the people gave the surname o^ Maximns to Valerius,^ for reconciling them to the senate after a violent dissension, and to Fabius Rullus, for ex¬ fortunes. When Pompey arrived at Rome, he demanded a triumph, in which he was opposed by Sylla. The latter alleged,— “That the laws did not allow that honour to any person who was not either consul or praetor.J Hence it was that the first Scipio, when he returned victorious from greater wars and conflicts with the Carthaginians in Spain, did not-demand a triumph; for he was neither consul nor praetor.’’ He added,— “ That if Pompey, who was yet little better than a beardless youth, and who was not of age to be admitted into the senate, should enter the city in triumph, it would bring an odium botli upon the dictator’s power, and those honours of his friend.” These arguments Sylla insisted on, to show him he would not allow of his triumph; and that, in case he persisted, he would chastise his obstinacy. Pompey, not in the least intimidated, bade him consider,— “That more worshipped the rising than the setting sun;” in¬ timating, that his power was increasing, and Sylla’s upon the decline. Sylla did not well hear what he said, but perceiving by the looks and gestures of the company, tViat they were struck with the expression, he asked what it was. When he was told it, he admired the spirit of Pompey, and cried,- “ Let him triumph! Let him triumph!” As Pompey perceived a strong spirit of envy and jealousy on this occasion, it is said, that, to mortify those who gave into it the more, he resolved to have his chari^.. drawn by four elephants; for he had brought a number from Africa, which he had taken from the kings of that country. But finding the * This was Marcus Valerius, the brother of Valerius Publicola, wlio was dictator. -j-lt was not his expelling the descendants of enfranchised slaves the se¬ nate, nor yet his glorious victories, which procured Fabius the surname of Maximus; but his reducing tlie populace of Rome into four tribes, who oefore were dispersed among all the tribes, and by that means had too much influence in elections and otlier public aflairs. 'fhese were called tribus urbnnx. — Liv. ix. 46. t Livy (lib. xxxi.) tells us, the senate refused L. Cornelius Lentulus a tri¬ umph for tlie same reason, though they thouglit his achievements wortiu of that honour. 15 ^ 174 POMPEY. gate loo narrow, he gave rjp that design, and contented him self with horses. Plis soldiers, not having obtained all they expected, were in dined to disturb the procession, but he took no pains to satisfy them: he said,—He had rather give up his triumph, than submit to flatter them.*^ Whereupon Serviiius, one of the most considerable men in Rome, and one who had been rjiost vigorous in opposing the triumph, declared ,—"‘- Pie now found Pompey really the Great^ and worthy of a triumph. There is no doubt that he might then have oeen easily ad¬ mitted a senator, if he had desired it; but his ambition was to pursue honour in a more uncommon track. It would have oeen no thins: strange, if Pomney had been a senator before the age fixed for it; but it was a very extraordinary instance of honour, to lead up a triumph before he was a senator. And it contributed not a little to gain him the aflections of the mul titude; tne people were delighted to see him, after his triumph; class wiih the equestrian order. Sylla was not without uneasiness at finding him advance sc fast in reputation and power; yet he could not think of pre¬ venting it, till, with a high hand, and entirely against his will, Pompey raised Lepidus* to the consulshin, by assisting him with ail his interest in the election. Then Sylla, seeing him conducted home by the people through l\\Q forum^ thus ad¬ dressed him:—I see, young m.an, you are proud of your vie tory. And undoubtedly, it was a great and extraordinary thing, by your management of the people, to obtain for Lepi- dus, the worst man in Rome, the return before Calulus, one of the worthiest and tlie best. But awake, I charge you, and be upon your guard: For you have now made your adveisary stronger than yourself.’’ The displeasure Sylla entertained in his heart againt Pom¬ pey appeared most plainly by his will. He left consideralve legacies to his friends, and appointed them guardians to his son, but he never once mentioned Pompey. Tlie latter, not¬ withstanding, bore this wdth great temper and moderation; and when Lepidus and others op]')Oscd his being buried in the Campus Martins^ and his having the honours of a public fune¬ ral, he interposed, and by his presence not only secured, but did honour to the procession. Sylla’s predictions w’ere verified soon after his death. Le¬ pidus wanted to usurp the authority *^1 a dictator; and his pro ceedings \vere not indirect, or veiled with specious pretences He immediately took up arms, and assembled the disafiected * Marcus iEmilius Lepidus, who by Pompey’s interest was declared con¬ sul with Q,. lutatius Catulus, in the year of Uoine 675. POMPEY. remains of the factions which Sylla could not entirely su[) press. As forliis collea2;ue, Catulus, the uncornipted part ot the senate and people were attached to him, and, in point oi prudence and justice, there was not a man in Rome who had a greater character; but he was more able to direct the civil government than the operations of war. This crisis, there¬ fore, called for Pompey, and he did not deliberate which side he should take. He joined the honest party, and was declared general against Lepidus, who by this time had reduced great part of Italy, and was master of Cisalpine Gaul, where Brutus acted for him with a considerable force. When Pompey took the field, he easily made his way in other parts, hut he lay a long time before Mutina, which was defended by Brutus. Meanwhile Lepidus advanced by hasty marches to Rome, and sitting down before it, demanded a se¬ cond consulship. The inhabitants were greatly alarmed at his numbers; but their fears were dissipated by a letter from Pompey, in which he assured them he had terminated the war without striking a blow. For Brutus, whether he betrayed his army, or they betrayed him, surrendered himself to Pom pey; and having a party of horse given him as an escort, re¬ tired to a little town upon the Po. Pompey, however, sent Geminius the next day to despatch him, which brought no small stain upon his character. Immediately after Brutus came over to him, he had informed the senate by letter, it was a measure that general had voluntarily adopted; and yet, on the morrow, he put him to death, and wrote other letters, containing heavy charges against him. This was the father of that Brutus, who, together with Cassius, slew Caesar. But the son did not resemble the father, either in war or in his death, as appears from the life we have given of him. Lepi¬ dus being soon driven out of Italy, fled into Sardinia, where he died of grief, not in consequence of the ruin of his affairs, hut of meeting with a billet, (as we are told,) by which he dis¬ covered that his wife had dishonoured his bed. At that time Sertorius. an officer very different from Lepi- dus, was in possession of Spain, and not a little formidable to Rome itself; all the remains of the civil wars being collected in him, just as in a dangerous disease all the vicious humours flow to a distempered part. He had already defeated severa. generals of less distinction, and he was then engaged with Me- tellus Pius, a man of great character in general, and particu¬ larly in war; but age seemed to have abated that vigour whicli is necessary for seizing, and making the best advantage of critical occasions. On the other hand, nothing could exceed the ardour and expedition with which Sertorious snatched tliose opportunities from him He. came on in the most dar 176 POMPEY. ing manner, and more like a ca])tain of banditti than a com¬ mander of regular forces; annoying with ambuscades, and «n,her unforeseen alarms, a champion who proceeded by the common rules, and whose skill lay in the management of heavy-armed forces. At this juncture, Pompey having an army without employ¬ ment, endeavoured to prevail with the senate to send him to the assistance of Metellus. Meantime, Catulus ordered him to disband his forces; but he found various pretences for re¬ maining in arms in the neighbourhood of Rome; till at last, upon the motion of Lucius Philippus, he obtained the com¬ mand he wanted. On this occasion, we are told, one of the senators, somewhat surprised at the motion, asked him who made it, whether his meaning was to send out Pompey (pro consult) as the representative of a consul? No,^' answered he, “ but (pro consulibus) as the representative of both con suls;’’ intimating by this the incapacity of the consuls of that year. When Pompey arrived in Spain, new hopes were excited, as is usual, upon the appearance of a new general of reputation; and such of the Spanish nations as were not very firmly at¬ tached to Sertorius, began to change their opinions, and to go over to the Romans. Sertorius then expressed himself in a very insoler.t and contemptuous manner with respect to Pom¬ pey: he said,—He should want no other weapons than a rod and ferula to chastise the boy Vvith, were it not that he feared the old womanmeaning Metellus. But, in fact, it was Pompey he was afraid of, and on his account he carried on his operations with much greater caution: For Metellus gave into a course of luxury and pleasure which no one could have expected, and changed the simplicity of a soldier’s life for a life of pomp and parade. Hence Pompey gained addi¬ tional honour and interest; for he cultivated plainness and fru¬ gality more than ever; though he had not, in that respect, much to correct in himself, being naturally sober and regular in his desires. The war appeared in many forms; but nothing touched Pompey so nearly as the loss of Lauron, which Sertorius took l)efore his eyes. Pompey thought he had blocked up the ene¬ my, and spoke of it in high terms, when suddenly he found himself surrounded, and being afraid to move, had the mortifi' cation to see the city laid in ashes in his presence. However, Ml an engagement near Valencia, he defeated Herennius and Perpenna, officers of considerable rank, who had taken part with Sertorius, and acted as his lieutenants, and killed above (en thousand of their men. Elated with th‘s advant,a2;e, he hastened to attack Sertorius, POMPEY. 177 (hat Metellus might have no share in the victory. He found him near the river Sucro, and they engaged near the close of day. Both were afraid Metellus should come up; Pompe\ wanting to fight alone, and Sertorius to have but one general to fight with. The issue of the battle was doubtful; one wing in each army being victories. But of the two generals, Serto¬ rius gained the greatest honour, for he routed the battalions that opposed him. As for Pompey, he was attacked on horse- •Dack by one of the enemy’s infantry, a man of uncommon size. While they were close engaged with their swords, the strokes happened to light on each other’s hand, but with different suc¬ cess; Pompey received only a slight wound, and he lopped off dhe other’s hand. Numbers then fell upon Pompey, for his troops in that quarter were already broken; but he escaped beyond all expectation, by quitting his horse, with gold ti*ap- pings and other valuable furniture, to the barbarians, who quarrelled and came to blows about dividing the spoil. Next morning at break of day, both drew up again to give; the finishing stroke to the victory, to which both laid claim. But upon Metellus coming up, Sertorius retired, and bis army dispersed. Nothing was more common than for his forces to disperse in that manner, and afterwards to knit again: so that Sertorius was often seen wanderins: alone, and as often ad- vancing again at the head of a hundred and fifty thousand men, like a torrent swelled with sudden rains. After the battle, Pompey went to wait on Metellus; and, upon approaching him, he ordered his lictors to lower the fasces, by way of compliment to Metellus, as his superior. Rut Metellus would not suffer it; and, indeed, in all respects, he behaved to Pompey with great politeness, taking nothing upon him on account of his consular dignity, or his being the older man, except to give the word, when they encamped to¬ gether. And very often they had separate camps; for the ene¬ my, by his artful and various measures, by making his ap¬ pearance at difi’erent places almost at the same instant, and by drawing them from one action to another, obliged them to di¬ vide. He cut off their provisions, he laid waste the country, h(; made himself master of the sea; the consequence of whicli was, that they were both forced to quit their own provinces, and to go into those of others for supplies. Pompey, having exhausted most of his own fortune in sup¬ port of the war, applied to the senate for money to pay the troops, declaring he would return with his army to Italy, if they did not send it him. Lucullus, who was then consul, though be was upon ill terms with Pompey, took care to fur- * him with the money as soon as possible; because wanted to be employed himself in the Mithridatic war. and VoL. IH.-Z 178 POMPEY. he was afraid to give Pompey a pretext to leave Sertorius and to solicit the command ascainst Mithridates, which was a more honourable, and yet appeared a less difficult commission. Meantime Sertorius was assassinated by his own officers;"* and Perpenna, who was at the head of the conspirators, under¬ took to supply his place. He had, indeed, the same troops, the same magazines and supplies, but he had not the same un- d(‘,rstanding to make a proper use of them. Pompey immedi¬ ately took the field, and having intelligence that Perpenna was greatly embarrassed as to the measures he should take, he tlirew out ten cohorts, as a bait for him, with orders to spread themselves over the plain. When he found it took, and that Perpenna was busied in the pursuit of that handful of men, he suddenly made his appearance with the main body, attack¬ ed the enemy, and routed him entirely. Most of the officers fell in the battle; Perpenna himself was taken prisoner, and brought to Pompey, who commanded him to be put to death. Nevertheless, Pompey is not to be accused of ingratitude, nor are we to suppose him (as some will have it) forgetful of the services he had received from that officer in Sicily. On the contrary, he acted with a vfisdom and dignity of mind that proved very salutary to the public. Perpenna having got the papers of Sertorius into his hands, showed letters, by which some of the most powerful men in Rome, who were desirous to raise new commotions, and overturn the establishment, had invited Sertorius into Italy. But Pompey, fearing those let¬ ters might excite greater wars than that he was then finishing, put Perpenna to death, and burnt the papers without reading them. He staid just long enough in Spain to compose the troubles, and to remove such uneasiness as might tend to break the peace; after which he marched back to Italy, wffiere he arrived, as fortune w-ould have it, wffien the Servile w^ar w^as at the height. Crassus^ who had the command in that w^ar, upon the arri¬ val of Pompey, wdio, he feared, might snatch the laurels out of his hand, resolved to come to a battle, however hazardous it might prove. He succeeded, and killed tw^elve thousand three hundred of the enamy. Yet fortune, in some sort, interw^ea\ - ed this wdth the honours of Pompey; for he killed five thou¬ sand of the slaves, whom he fell in wdth as they fled after the battle. Immediately upon this, to be beforehand with Crassus. he w^rote to the senate,—That Crassus had beaten the gladia- toTs in a pitched battle, but that it was he wdio had cut up the w'ar by the roots.” The Romans took a pleasure in speaking * It was three years after the consulate of Luciillus that Sertorius was as sassinatecL POMPEY. 17 ^ oi this one among another, on account of their regard foi Pompey; which was such, that no part of the success in Spain against Sertorious was ascribed by a man of them, either in jest or earnest, to any but Pompey. Yet these honours, and this high veneration for the man, were mixed with some fears and jealousies that he would not disband his army, but, treading in the steps of Sylla, raise himself by the sword to sovereign power, and maintain him¬ self in it as Sylla had done.^ Hence the number of those that went out of fear to meet him, and congratulate him on his re¬ turn, was equal to that of those who went out of love. But when he had removed this suspicion, by declaring that he would dismiss his troops immediately after the triumph, there remained only one more subject for envious tongues; which was, that he paid more attention to the commons than to the senate; and whereas Sylla had destroyed the authority of the tribunes, he was determined to re-establish it, in order to gain the affections of the people. This ^vas true: for there nevei’ was any thing they had so much set their hearts upon, or longed for so extravagantly, as to see the tribunitial power put in their hands again. So that Pompey looked upon it as a pe¬ culiar happiness, that he had an opportunity to bring that af¬ fair about; knowing that if any one should be beforehand witli him in this design, he should never find any means of making so agreeable a return for the kind regards of the people. A second triumph was decreed him,t together with the con¬ sulship. But these were not considered as the most extraor¬ dinary instances of his power. The strongest proof of his greatness was, that Crassus, the richest, the most eloquent, and most powerful man in the administration, who used to look down upon Pompey and all the world, did not venture to soli- * Cicero, in his epistles to Atticus, says, Pompey made but little secret of this unjustifiable ambition.—The passag’es are remarkable: Mirandum enim in modum Cneius noster Sylkmi regni similitudinem concupivit; E/tTac cot xrym, nihil ilh unquam minus obscure tuUt. —Lib. vii. ep. 9. “ Our friend Pompey is wonderfully desirous of obtaining* a power like that of Sylla; I tell you no more than what I know, for he makes no secret of it.’' and again,— Hoc turpe Cneius noster hi&nnio ante cogitavit; it a Sylla iurit anU mus ejus, etprosodpturit. —Ibid. ep. 10. “Pompey has been forming Ihi.s infamous desig'n for these two years past; so strongly is he bent upon imi¬ tating* Sylla, and proscribing like him.’’ Hence we see how hap]>y it wai for Rome, that, in the civil wars, Caesar, and not Pompey, proved the con¬ queror. \ He triumphed towards the end of the year of Rome 682, and at the same time was declared consul for the yeai* ensuing. This was a peculiar ho¬ nour, to gain the consulate without first bearing the subordinate offices; but his two triumphs, and great .services, excused that deviatio:! from the. com¬ mon niles. 180 POMPEV cit the consulship without first asking Fompey s leave Pom pey, who had long wished for an opportunity to lay an obliga tion upon him, received the application with pleasure, anc! made great interest with the people in his behalf; declaring he should take their giving him Crassus for a colleague as kindly as their favour to himself. Yet when they were elected consuls, they disagreed in every thing, and were embroiled in all their measures. Crassus had most interest with the senate, and Pompey with the people: for he had restored them the tribunitial power, and had suffer¬ ed a law to be made, that judges should again be appointed out of the equestrian order.^ However, the most agreeable spec¬ tacle of all to the people, was Pompey himself, when he went to claim his exemption from serving in the wars. It was the custom for a Roman knight, when he had served the time or¬ dered by law, to lead his horse into the forum^ before the two magistrates called censors; after having given account of the ge¬ nerals and other officers under whom he had made his cam¬ paigns, and of his own actions in them, to demand his dis¬ charge. On these occasions they received proper marks of honour or disgrace, according to their behaviour. Gellius and Lentulus were then censors, and had taken theii seats in a manner that became their dignity, to review the whole equestrian order, when Pompey was seen at a distance, with all the badges of his office, as consul, leading his horse by the bridle. -As soon as he was near enough to be observed by the censors, he ordered his Victors to make an opening, and ad vanced with his horse in hand, to the foot of the tribuna The people were struck with admiration, and a profound si Icnce took place; at the same time a joy, mingled with reve rence, was visible in the countenances of the censors. The senior censor then addressed him as follows:—Pompey the Great, I demand of you, whether you have served all the cam¬ paigns required by law?’’ He answered with a loud voice,— 1 have served them all; and all under myself, as general.” The people were so charmed with this answer, that there was no end of their acclamations: at last the censors rose up, and conducted Pompey to his house, to indulge rue multitude, who followed him with the loudest plaudits. When the end of the consulship approached, and his differ¬ ence with Crassus w^as increasing daily, Cains Aurelius,! a man who was of the equestrian order, hut had nev'er intermed-i * L. Aurelius Cotta carried that point when he was prD?^^’* Ptutarcli says again, because Cains Cracchus had conveyed that to tlur knig’hts fifty years before. + 0vat)us AnreliiiH. p POm^ET. ISi med with state atlairs, one day, when the people were met in full assembly,, ascended the rostra, and said,—Jupiter had appeared to him in a dream, and commanded him to acquaint the consuls, that they must take care to be reconciled before they laid down their office.’’ Pompey stood still and held his peace; but Crassus w’ent and gave him his hand, and saluted him in a friendly manner. At the same time he addressed the people as follow’s:—I think, my fellow’-citizens, there is no¬ thing dishonourable or mean in making the first advances to Pompey, whom you scrupled not to dignify with the name of the Great, when he was yet but a beardless youth, and for whom vou voted two triumphs before he w^as a senator.” Thus reconciled, they laid down the consulship. Crassus continued his former manner of life; but Pompey now seldom chose to plead the causes of those that applied to him, and by degrees he left the bar. Indeed, he seldom ap¬ peared in public, and when he did, it was ahvays wdth a great train of friends and attendants; so that it was not easy either to speak to him or see him, but in the midst of a crowed. He took pleasure in having a number of retainers about him, be¬ cause he thought it gave him an air of greatness and majesty, and he was ])ersuaded that dignity should be kept from being soiled by the familiarity, and, indeed, by the very touch of the many: for those who are raised to greatness by arms, and know not how to descend again to the equality required in a republic, are very liable to fall into contempt when they re¬ sume the robe of peace. The soldier is desirous to preserve the rank in the forum wffiich he had in the field; and he who can not distinguish himself in the field, thinks it intolerable to give place in the administration too. When, therefore, the latter has got the man who shone in camps and triumphs into the assemblies at home, and finds him attempting to maintain the same pre-eminence there, of course he endeavours to hum¬ ble him; wdiereas, if the warrior pretends not to take the lead in domestic councils, he is readily allowed the palm of mili¬ tary glory. This soon appeared from the subsequent events. The power of the pirates had its foundation in Cilicia. Their progress was the more dangerous, because at first it was little taken notice of. In the Mithridatic war, they assumed new confidence and courage, on account of some services they had rendered the king. After this, the Romans being engaged m civil wars at the very gates of their capital, the sea was left unguarded, and the pirates by degrees attempted higher things; they not only attacked ships, but islands and maritime towns. Many persons, distinguished for their wealth, their birth, aiu* their capacity, embarked with them, and assisted in their de¬ predations. as if their employment had been worthy the ambi- 182 POMPEY, tioii 01 men of honour. They had in various places arsenah ports, and watch-towers, all strongly fortified. Their fleets were not only extremely well manned, supplied with skilful pilots, and fitted for their business by their lightness and cele¬ rity; but there was a parade of vanity about them more mor¬ tifying than their strength, in gilded sterns, purple canopies, and plated oars; as if they took a pride and triumphed in their villany. Music resounded, and drunken revels were exhi¬ bited on every coast. Here generals were made prisoners* there the cities the pirates had taken were paying their ran¬ som; all to the great disgrace of the Roman power. The num¬ ber of their galleys amounted to a thousand, and the cities they were masters of to four hundred. Temples, which had stood inviolably sacred till that time, they plundered. They ruined the temple of Apollo at Claros, that where he was worshipped under the title of Didymaeus,"^ that of the Cabiri in Samothrace, that of Cerest at Hermiona, that of ^sculapius at Epidaurus, those of Neptune in the Isth¬ mus, at Taenarus, and in Calauria, those of Apollo at Actium and in the isle of Leucas, and those of Juno at Samos, Argos, and the promontory of Lacinium. J They likewise offered strange sacrifices; those of Olympus I mean:§ and they celebrated certain secret mysteries, among which those of Mithra continue to this day,l| being originally instituted by them. They not only insulted the Romans at sea, but infested the great roads, and plundered the villas near the coast: they carried off Sextilius and Bellinus, two praetors, in their purple robes, with all their servants arid lictors. They seized the daughter of Antony, a man who had been honoured with a triumph, as she was going to her country-house, and ho was forced to pay a large ransom for her. But the most contemptuous circumstance of all was, that when they had taken a prisoner, and he cried out that he was a Roman, and told them his name, they pretended to be struck So called from Didyme, in the territories of Miletus. •j- Pausanias (in Laconic.) tells us tlie Laceda!monians worship Ceres under tlie name Chthonia; and (m Corinthiac.) he g'ives us the reason of her having that name:—«« The Argives say, that Chthonia the daughter of Colontas, liaving been saved out of a conflagration by Ceres, and conveyed to Hermi- one, built a temple to that goddess, who was worshipped there under the flame of Chthonia.” i The printed text gives us the erroneous reading of Leucaniiim, but two manuscripts g'ive us Lacinium. Livy often mentions ,]uno Lacinia. Not on Mount Olympus, but in the city of Olympus, near Phasells, in Pamphylia, which was one of the receptacles of the pirates. AVhat sort of sacrifices they used to offer there is not known. !l According to Herodotus, the Persians worshipped Venus under the name of Mithres, or Mithra; but the Sun is worshipped in that country. POMPEY. 183 wiUi terror, smote their thighs, and fell upon their knees ^*5 ask him pardon. The poor man seeing them thus humble themselves before him, thought them in earnest, and said he would forgive them; for some were so officious as to put on his shoes, and others to help him on with his gown, that his quality might no more be mistaken. When they had earned on this farce, and enjoyed it for some time, they let a ladder down into the sea, and bade him go in peace; and if he refused to do it, they pushed him off the deck and drowned him. Their power extended over the whole Tuscan sea, so tliat the Romans found their trade and navigation entirely cut ofl the consequence of which was, that their markets were not supplied, and they had reason to. apprehend a famine. This, at last, put them upon sending Pompey to clear the sea of pi¬ rates. Gabinius, one of Pompey’s intimate friends, proposed the decree,^ which created him, not admiral, but monarch, and invested him with absolute power. The decree gave him the empire of the sea as bir as the Pillars of Hercules, and of the land for four hundred furlongs from the coasts. There were few parts of the Roman empire which this commission did not take in, and the most considerable of the barbarous nations, and most powerful kings, were moreover comprehended in it. Besides this, he was empowered to choose out of the senators fifteen lieutenants to act under him, in such districts, and with such authority as he should appoint. He was to take from the quaestors, and other public receivers, what money he pleased, and equip a fleet of two hundred sail. The number of ma¬ rine forces, of mariners and rowers, was left entirely to his discretion. When th's decree was read in the assembly, the people re¬ ceived it with inconceivable pleasure. The most respectable part of the senate saw, indeed, that such an absolute and unli¬ mited power was above envj, but they considered it as a real object of fear. They, thereiore, all, except Caesar, opposed its passing into a law. He was for it, not out of regard to Pom¬ pey, but to insinuate himself into the good graces of the peo¬ ple, which he had long been courting. The rest were very severe in their expressions against Pompey; and one of the consuls venturing to say,t—If he imitates Romulus, he will not escape his fate,’’ was in danger of being pulled in pieces by the populace. * This law was made in the year of Rome 686. The crafty tribune, wlier. he proposed it, did not name Pompey. Pompey was now in tlie thirty^ Qinth year of his ag’e. His friend Gabinius, as appears from Cicero, was « lon them many times from the rostrum ^—“ To seel< some mountain, as their ancestors had done; some rock, whi ther they might fly for the preservation of liberty.'^ We are told, however, that the bill was passed by all the tribes,^' and almost the same universal authority conferred upen Pompey, in his absence, which Sylla did not gain but by the sword, and by carrying war. into the bowels oT his coun¬ try. When Pompey received the letters which notified his high promotion, and his friends, who happened to be by, con¬ gratulated him on the occasion, he is said to have knit his brows, smote his thigh, and expressed himself, as if he was al¬ ready overburdened and wearied with the weight of powerrt— Alas! is there no end of my conflicts? How much better would it have been to be one of the undistinguished many, than to be perpetually engaged in war? Shall I never be able to fly from envy to a rural retreat, to domestic happiness, and conjugal endearments?” Even his friends were unable to bear the dissimulation of this speech. They knew that the flame of his native ambition and lust of power, was blown up to a greater height by the diflerence he had with Lucullus, and that he rejoiced the more in the present preference on that account. His actions soon unmasked the man. He caused public no¬ tice to be given in all places within his commission, that the Roman troops were to repair to him, as well as the kings and princes their allies. Wherever he went, he annulled the acts of Lucullus, remitting the fines he had imposed, and taking away the rewards he had given. In short, he omitted no means to show the partisans of that general, that all his authority was gone. Lucullus, of course, complained of thus treatment; and their common friends were of opinion, that it would be best for them to come to an interview; accordingly they met in Galatia. As they had both given distinguished proofs of military me¬ rit, the Victors had entwined the rods of each with laurel. Lu- cullus had marched through a country full of flourishing groves, but Pompey’s route was dry and barren, without the ornament or advantage of woods. His laurels, therefore, were * Two great men spoke in favour of the law, namely, Cicero and Cxsar. Ths former aimed at the consulate, which Pompey’s party could more ea sily procure him, than that of Catulus and the senate. As for Ca:sar, hf wsu> delighted to see the people insensibly lose that republican spirit anC love of liberty, which might One day obstruct the vast designs he had al reaci\ formed. - .t.is it possible to read this without recollecting the similar character of oijj Richard III? POMPEY* 189 pa*'2hed and withered; which the servants of Lucullus no soon er observed, than they freely supplied them with fresh ones, and crowned his fasces with them. This seemed to be an omen, that Pompey would bear away the honours and rewards of liucullus’s victories. Lucullus had been consul before Ponv pey, and was the older man; but Pompey’s two triumphs gave liim the advantage in point of dignity. Their interview had at first the face of great politeness and civility. They began with mutual compliments and congratu¬ lations; but they soon lost sight even of candour and modera tion; they proceeded to abusive language; Pompey reproach ing Lucullus with avarice, and Lucullus accusing Pompey of an insatiable lust of power; insomuch that their friends found it difficult to prevent violence. After this, Lucullus gave his friends and lollowers lands in Galatia, as a conquered country, and made other considerable grants. But Pompey, who encamped at a little distance from him, declared he would not suffer his orders to be carried into execution, and seduced all his soldiers, except sixteen hundred, who, he knew, were so mutinous, that they would be as unserviceable to him as they had been ill affected to their old general. Nay, he scru¬ pled not to disparage the conduct of Lucullus, and to repre¬ sent his actions in a despicable light:—The battles of Lucul- his,” he said, ‘‘ were only mock-battles, and he had fought with nothing but the shadows of kings; but that it was left for him to contend with real strength and well-disciplined armies; since Mithridates had betaken himself to swords and shields, and knew how to make proper use of his cavalry.’^ On the other hand, Lucullus defended himself by observing, —That it was nothing new to Pompey to fight with phan¬ toms and shadows of war: for like a dastardly bird, lie had been accustomed to prey upon those whom he had not killed, and to tear the poor remains of a dying opposition. Thus, he had arrogated to himself the conquest of Sertorius, of Lepidus, and Spartacus, which originally belonged to Metellus, to Ca- tulus, and Crassus. Consequently, he did not wonder that lie was come to claim the honour of finishing the wars of Ar¬ menia and Pontus, after he had thrust himself into the triumph over the fugitive slaves.’’ In a little time, Lucullus departed from Rome; and Pompey having secured the sea from Phoenicia to the Bosphorus, imrehed in quest of Mithridates, who had an army ot thirtv lii( usand foot and two thousand horse, but durst not stand an engagement. That prince was in possession of a strong and secure post upon a mountain, which he quitted upon Pompey’s approach, because it was destitute of water. Pompey encamp¬ ed in the same place; and conjecturing, from the nature of thp 190 POrPEY. plants and the crevices in the mountain, that springs might oe found, he ordered a number of wells to be dug, and the camp was in a short time plentifully supplied with water.^ He was not a little surprised that this did not occur to Mithri dates during the whole time of his encampment there. After this Pompey followed him to his new camp, and dnnv a line of circumvailation round him. Mithridates stood a siege of forty-five days, after which he found means to steal off* with his best troops, having first killed all the sick, and such as could be of no service. Foinpey overtook him n(;ar the Euphrates, and encamped over against him; but fearing he might pass the river unperccived, he drew out his troops at midnignt. At that time iSlithridates is said to have had a dream prefigurative of what was to befall him. He thouglit he was upon the Pontic sea, sailing with a favourable wind, and in sight of the Bosphorus; so that he felicitated his friends in the ship, like a man perfectly safe, and already in harbour; but suddenly he beheld himself in the most destitute condi¬ tion, swimming upon a piece of wreck. While he was in all the agitation which this dream -produced, his friends awaked him, and told him that Pompey was at hand. He was nOw under a necessity .of fighting; for his camp, and his generals drew up the forces with all possible expedition. Pompey seeing them prepared, was lotli to risk a battle in the dark. He thought it sufficient to surround them, so as to prevent their flight; and what inclined him still more to wait for day light, w’as the consideration that his troops were much better than the enemy’s. However, the oldest of his officers entreated him to proceed immediately to the attack, and at last prevailed. It was not indeed very dark; for the moon, though near her setting, gave light enough to distinguish ob¬ jects. But it was a great disadvantage to the king’s troops, that the moon was so low, and on the backs of the Romans; because she projected their shadows so far before them, that the enemy could form no just estimate of the distances, but thinking them at hand, threw their javelins before they could do the least execution. The Romans perceiving their mistake, advanced to the charge with all the alarm of voices. The enemy were in such a consternation, that they made not the least stand, and in their flight, vast numbers were slain. They lost above ten thousand men, and their camp v/as taken. As for Mitnridates, he broke through the Romans with eight hundred horse, in the beginning of the engagement. That corps, however, did not * Paukis .Emilius had done the same thing long before, in the Maced.o¬ n\an war. POMPEY 191 tollow him /ar before they dispersed, and left him with only three of his people; one of which was his concubine Hypsj- cratia, a woman of such a masculine and daring spirit, that the king used to call her Hypsicrates. She then rode a Persian horse, and was dressed in a man^s habit, of the fashion of tha/ nation. She complained not in the least of the length of the march; and beside that fatigue, she waited on the king and took care of his horse, till they reached the castle of Inora,^ where the king’s treasure, and his most valuable moveables, were deposited. Mithridates took out thence many rich I'obes, and bestowed them on those who repaired to him after their flight. He furnished each of his friends, too, with a quantity of poison, that none of them, against their will, might come alive into the enemy’s hands. From Inora his design was to go to Tigranes in Armenia. But Tigranes had given up the cause, and set a price of no less than a hundred talents upon his head. He, therefore, changed his route, and having passed the head of the Eu¬ phrates, directed his flight through Colchis. In the meantime Pompey entered Armenia, upon the invi tation of young Tigranes, who had revolted from his father, and was gone to meet the Roman general at the river Araxes. This river takes its rise near the source of the Euphrates, but bends its course eastward, and empties itself into the Caspian sea. Pompey and young Tigranes, in their march, received the homage of the cities through which they passed. As foi Tigranes the father, he had been lately defeated by Luculius; and now, being informed that Pompey was of a mild and hu mane disposition, he received a Roman garrison into his capi¬ tal; and taking his friends and relations with him, went to sur¬ render himself. As he rode up to the entrenchments, two of Pompey’s lidors came and ordered him to dismount, and er*ter on foot; assuring him that no man was ever seen on horseback in a Roman camp. Tigranes obeyed, and even took off Ins sword, and gave it them. As soon as he came before Pom¬ pey, he pulled off his diadem, and attempted to lay it at his feet. What was still worse, he was going to prostrate himself and embrace his knees. But Pompey, preventing it, took him by the hand, and placed him on one side of him, and his son on the other. Then addressing himself to the father, he SvTid,— As to what you had lost before, you lost it to Luculius. It was he who took from you Syria, Phmnicia, Cilicia, Galatia, and Sophene. But what you kept till my time, 1 will restore ♦ It seems from a. passage in Strabo, (b. xii.) that instead of Inorny we sliould read Sinoria; for that was one of the many fortresses Mithridates had I'Milt bi*t\veen the Greater and tl\c Less Armenia. 192 POMPEY. you, on condition you pay the Romans a fine of six thousand talents for the injury you have done them. Your son I wili make king of Sophene.^^ Tigranes thought himself so happy in these term*s, and in finding that the Romans saluted him king, that in the joy of his heart he promised every private soldier half a mbm^ every centurion ten and every tribune a talent. But his son was little pleased at the determination; and when he was in¬ vited to supper he said,—He had no need of such honours from Pompey, for he could find another Roman.’’ Upon this, he was bound and reserved in chains for the triumph. Not long after, Phraates, king of Parthia, sent to demand the young prince, as his son-in-law, and to propose that the Eu¬ phrates should be the boundary between him and the Roman empire. Pompey answered,—That Tigranes was certainly nearer to his father than his father-in-law; and as for the bouii- dary, justice should direct it.” When he had despatched this affair, he left Afranius to take care of Armenia, and marched himself to the countries border¬ ing on Mount Caucasus, through which he must‘necessarily pass in search of Mithridates. The Albanians and Iberians are the principal nations in those parts. The Iberian territo¬ ries touch upon the Moschian mountains and the kingdom of Pontus; the Albanians stretch more to the east, and extend to !he Caspian sea. The Albanians, at first, granted Pompey a passage: But as winter overtook him in their dominions, they took the opportunity of the Saturnnlin^ which the Romans ob¬ serve religiously, to assemble their forces, to the number of forty thousand men, ,vith a resolution to attack them; and for that purpose passed the Cyrnus.^ The Cyrnus rises in the Iberian mountains, and being joined in its course by the Araxes from Armenia, it discharges itself by twelve mouths into the Caspian sea. Some say, the Araxes does not run into it,t but has a separate channel, and empties itself near it into the same sea. Pompey suffered them to pass the river, though it was in his power to have hindered it; and when they were all got over lie attacked and routed them, and killed great numbers on the spot. Their king sent ambassadors to beg for mercy; upon which Pompey forgave him the violence he had offered, anc^ entered into alliance with him. This done, he marched against the Iberians, who were equally numerous, and more war¬ like, and who were very desirous to signalize their zeal for * Strabo and Pliny call this river Cyrus, and so Plutarcli probaoly wrote it. f This is Strabo’s opinion, in whirh be is followed by the modern geogra¬ phers. POMPEY. 1^:5 Mithridates, by repulsin^Pompey. The Iberians were nevei subject to the Mecles or Persians: they escaped even the Ma¬ cedonian yoke, because Alexander was obliged to leave Hyr- cania in haste. Pompey, however, defeated this people too, in a great battle, in which he killed no less than nine thousand, ind took above ten thousand prisoners. After this, he threw himself into Colchis; and Servilius came and joined him at the mouth of the Phasis, with the fleet appointed to guard the Euxine Sea. The pursuit of Mithri- dates was attended with great difficulties; for he had conceal¬ ed himself among the nations settled about the Bosphorus and the Palus Mseotis. Besides, news was brought Pompey that the Albanians had revolted, and taken up arms again. The desire of revenge determined him to march back and chastise them. But it was with infinite trouble and danger that he passed the Cyrnus again, the barbarians having fenced it on their side with palisades all along the banks: And when he was over, he had a large country to traverse, which afforded no water. This last difficulty he provided against, by filling ten thousand bottles; and pursuing his march, he found the enemy drawn up on the banks of tne river Abas,* to the num¬ ber of sixty thousand foot and twelve thousand horse, but ma¬ ny of them ill armed, and provided with nothing of the defen sive kind but skins of beasts. They were commanded by the king’s brother, named Cosis: vho, at the beginning of the battle, singled out Pompey, and rushing in upon him, struck his javelin into the joints of his breast-plate. Pompey, in return, run him through with his spear, and laid him dead on the spot. It is said that the Ama¬ zons came to the assistance of the barbarians, from the moun¬ tains near the river Thermodon, and fought in this battle. The Romans, among the plunder of the field, did indeed meet with bucklers in the form of a half moon, and such buskins as the Amazons wore; but there was not the body of a woman found among the dead. They inhabit that part of Mount Cau¬ casus which stretches towards the Hyrcanian Sea, and are not next neighbours to the Albanians,t for Gelae and Leges lie be¬ tween; but they meet that people, and spend two months with them every year, on the banks of the Thermodon: after which they retire to their own country, where they live without the company of men. * This river takes its rise in the mountains of Albama, and falls into the Caspian sea. Ptolemy calls it AVoanus. fThe Albanian forces, according* to Strabo, were numerous, but ill-disci¬ plined. Their offensive weapons were darts and arrows, and their defeii- tive armour was made of the skins of beasts. VoL. III.- 2 B 17 194 POMPEY. Afler this action, Pompey designed to make his way to {hn Caspian sea, and march by its coasts into Hyrcania;'^ but he found the number of venomous serpents so troublesome, that he was forced to return, when three days’ march more would have carried him as far as he proposed.! The next route he took was into Armenia the Less, where he gave audience to ambassadors from the kings of the Elyma^ansJ and Medes. and dismissed them with letters expressive of his regard. Mean¬ time the king of Parthia had entered Gordyene, and was doing infinite damage to the subjects of Tigranes. Against hiin Pompey sent Afranius, who put him to the rout, and pursued him as far as the province of Arbelis. Among all the concubines of Mithridates that were brought before Pompey, he touched not one, but sent them to their parents or husbands; for most of them were either daughters or wives of the great officers and principal persons of the kingdom. But Stratonice, who was the first favourite, and had the care of a fort where the best part of the king’s trea- sure was lodged, was the daughter of a poor old musician. She sung one evening to Mithridates at an entertainment, and he was so much pleased with her that Ke took her to his bed that night, and sent the old man home in no very good hu¬ mour, because he had taken his daughter, without condescend¬ ing to speak one kind word to him. But when he waked next morning, he saw tables covered with vessels of gold and sil¬ ver, a great retinue of eunuchs and pages, who offered him the choice of rich robes, and before his gate a horse with such magnificent furniture as is provided for those who are called the king’s friends. All this he thought nothing but an insult and burlesque upon him, and, therefore, prepared for flight: but the servants stopped him, and assured him that the king had given him the bouse of a rich nobleman lately deceased, and tbat what he saw was only the first fruits,—a small earnest of the fortune he intended him. At last he suffered himself to be persuaded that the scene was not visionary; he put on the purple, and mounted the horse, and as he rode through the city, cried out, “All this is mine!” The inhabitants, of * — ^Kauvitv tfrt Tuv *Tf>)e.Avtstv koli B'AXAtro’Av —Plutarch mentions tlie Caspian sea after Hyrcania. But as that sea lies very near Albania, there was no necessity for Pompey to g'o throug-h Hyrcania to it. Perhaps Plu¬ tarch meant the other extremity of the Caspian sea. f Tgtav c^ov n/ut^ov ctfroa-^av. The former English translator erroneouslv renders this, was forced to retreat after t^ree days* march. t Strabo (lib. xvi.) places the Elymaeansin that part of Assyria w hich bor¬ ders upon Media, and mentions three provinces belonging to thc'm, Gabi« ane, ^Nlessabatice, and Corbiane. He adds, that they were poweiful enough tn refuse s ibmission to the king of Parthia POMPEY. l95 course, laughed at him; and he told them,—^^They should no«: be surprised at this behaviour of his, but rather wonder that he did not throw stones at them/^ From such a glorious source sprung Stratoxice! She surrendered to Pompey the castle, and made him many magnificent presents; however, he took nothing but what might be an ornament to the solemnities of religion, and add lustre to his triumph. The rest he desired she would keep for her own enjoyment. In like manner, when the king of Iberia sent him a'bedstead, a table, and a throne, all of massy gold, and begged him to accept of them as a mark of his regard, he bade the qujestors apply them to the purposes of the public revenue. In the castle of Csenon he found the private papers of IMith- ridates; and he read them with some pleasure, because they discovered that prince’s real character. From these memoirs, it appeared that he had taken off many persons by poison, among whom were his own son Ariarathes, and Alcaeus of Sardis. His pique against the latter took its rise merely from ills having better horses for the race than he. There were also interpretations both of his own dreams and those of his wives; and the lascivious letters which had passed between him and Monime. Theophanes pretends to say, that there was found among those papers a memorial composed by Ru- tilius,^ exhorting Mithridates to massacre all the Romans in Asia. But most people believe this was a malicious invention of Theophanes to blacken Rutilius, whom probably he hated, because he was a perfect contrast to him; or it might be in¬ vented by Pompey, whose father was represented in Ruti- lius’s histories as one of the worst of men. From Caenon Pompey marched to Amisus; where his in- faiuating ambition put him upon very obnoxious measures. He had censured Lucullus much for disposing of provinces at a time when the war was alive, and for bestowing other con- siaerable gifts and honours, which conquerors use to grant afcer their wars are absolutely terminated: and yet, when Mithridates was master of the Bosphorus, and had assembled a ^ ery respectable army again, the same Pompey did the very thing he had censured. As if he had finished the whole, he disposed of governments, and distributed other rewards among Ills friends. On that occasion, many princes and generals, * P. Ratlllus Rufus was consul in the year of Rome 649. Cicero gives nim a great character. He was afterwards banished into Asia; and when Sylla recalled him, he refused to return. He wrote a Roman history in Greek, which Appian made great use of. POMPEY. lyb and among them twelve barbarian kings, appeared before him: and, to gratify those princes, when he wrote to the king: oi Parthia, he refused to give him the title of king of kings, Dy which he was usually addressed. He was passionately desirous to recover Syria, and passing ^'rom thence through Arabia, to penetrate to the Red Sea, that iie might go on conquering every way to the ocean which sur¬ rounds the world. In Africa he was the first whose conquest extended to the Great Sea; in Spain he stretched the Roman dominions to the Atlantic; and in his late pursuit of the Alba¬ nians, he wanted but little of reaching the Hyrcanian Sea. In order, therefore, to take the Red Sea too in the circle of his wars, he began his march; the rather because he saw it diffi¬ cult to hunt out Mithridates with a regular force, and that he was much harder to deal with in flight than in battle. For this reason, he said, “ He would leave him a stronger enemy than the Romans to cope with, which was famine.^h In pur¬ suance of this intention, he ordered a number of ships to cruise about, and prevent any vessels from entering the Bosphorus with provisions; and that death should be the punishment for such as were taken in the attempt. As he was upon his march with the best part of his army, he found the bodies of those Romans who fell in the unfortu¬ nate battle between Triarius^ and Mithridates still uninterred. He gave them an honourable burial; and the omission of it seems to have contributed not a little to the aversion the army had for Lucullus. Proceeding in the execution of his plan, he subdued the Arabians about Mount Amanus by his lieutenant Afranius, and descended himself into Syria; which he converted into a Roman province, because it had no lawful king.t He reduced Judea, and took its king Aristobulus prisoner. He founded some cities, and set others free; punishing the tyrants who had enslaved them. But most of his time was spent in ad¬ ministering justice, and in deciding the disputes between cities and princes. Where he could not go himself, he sent his friends: The Armenians and Parthians, for instance, having referred the difference they had about some territory to his * Trianus was defeated by Mithridates three years before Pompey’s march into Syria. He had twenty-three tribunes and a hundred and fifty centurions killed in that battle, and his camp was taken. fPompey took the temple of Jerusalem, killing* no less than twelve thou sand Jews in the action. He entered the temple contrary to their law, but had the moderation not to touch any of the holy utensils, or the treasure belonging* to it. Aristobulus presented him with a golden vine, valued at five hundred talents, which he afterwards consecrated in the temple oi Jupiter Capitolinus. POMPEY. 197 decision; he sent three arbitrators to settle the afiair. His reputation as to power was great, and it was equally respecta¬ ble as to virtue and moderation. This was the thing which palliated most of his faults, and those of his ministers. He knew not how to restrain or punish the ofi’ences of those he employed; but he gave so gracious a reception to those who came to complain of them, that they went away not ill-satis¬ fied with all they had suffered from their avarice and oppres¬ sion. His first favourite was Demetrius his enfranchised slave; a young man who, in other respects, did not want understand¬ ing, but who made an insolent use of his good fortune. They tell us this story of him:—Cato the philosopher, then a young man, but already celebrated for his virtue and greatness of mind, went to see Antioch when Pompey was not there. Ac- cordins: to custom, he travelled on foot, but his friends aceom- panied him on horseback. When he approached the city, he saw a great number of people before the gates, all in white, and on the way a troop of young men ranged on one side, and of boys on the other. This gave the philosopher pain; for he thought it a compliment intended him, which he did not want. However, he ordered his friends to alight and walk with him. As soon as he was near enough to be spoke with, the master of the ceremonies, with a crown on his head, and a staff of of¬ fice in his hand, came up and asked them, Where they had left Demetrius, and when he might be expected?’’ Cato’s com¬ panions laughed; but Cato said only,—"'Alas, poor city!” and so passed on. Indeed, others might the better endure the insolence of De¬ metrius, because Pompey bore with it himself. Very often, when Pompey was waiting to receive company, Demetrius seated himself in a disrespectful manner at table, with his cap of liberty* pulled over his ears. Before his return to, Italy, he had purchased the pleasantest villas about Rome,-with mag nificent apartments for entertaining his friends;t and some of the most elegant and expensive gardens were known by his name. Yet Pompey himself was satisfied with an indifferent house till his third triumph. Afterwards, he built that beau ¬ tiful and celebrated theatre i i Rome; and, as an appendage * * The word /VitT/cv signifies here llie cap cf liberty \vorn by freed-men, not the flaps of a robe, whicli was all that the other Romans had to covci their heads with. Indeed generally they vv'ent bare-headed. •fThe Latin ti’anslator renders tchv ra pidcherrima gym nasia; and Dacier, les plus beaux pares pour Its exercises de la jeunesse; btit Athenseus (1. x.) gives us a more apposite sense of the word yi^hru^ut netxur* Bui Tu ffvpTToaiu. Dining-rooms might be called because youth and mirth convey similar ideas. 17* 198 pompey: to it, built himself a nouse, much handsomer thjn the lormer, hut not ostentatiously great; for he who came to be master of it after him, at his first entrance, was surprised, and asked,— Where was the room in which Ponipev tlie Great usea to sup?’^ Such is the account we have of these matters. The king of Arabia Petrsea had hitherto considered the Ro¬ mans in no formidable light, but he was really afraid of Pom pey, and sent letters to acquaint him, that he w^as ready to obey all his commands. Pompey, to try the sincerity of his professions, marched against Petra. Many blamed this expe dition, looking upon it as no better than a pretext to be ex¬ cused pursuing Mithridates, against whom they would have had him turn, as against the ancient enemy of Rome; and an enemy who, according to all accounts, had so far recovered his strength as to propose marching through Scythia and Pseonio into Italy. On the other hand, Pompey was of opi¬ nion, that it w’as much easier to ruin him when at the head of an army than to take him in his flight, and, therefore, would not amuse himself with a fruitless pursuit, but rather chose to wait for a new’ emergency, and, in the meantime, to turn his arms to another quarter. Fortune soon resolved the doubt. lie had advanced near Petra, and encamped for that day, and was taking some exer¬ cise on horseback without the trenches, when messengers ar¬ rived from Pontus; and it w^as plain they brought good news, because the po’nts of their spears w’ere crowned with laurel. The soldiers seeing this, gathered about Pompey, who was in¬ clined to finish his exercise before he opened the packet; but they w^ere so earnest in their entreaties, that they prevailed upon him to alight and take it. He entered the camp with it in his hand; and as there was no tribunal read}^, and the sol¬ diers were too impatient to raise one of turf, w’hich was the common method, they piled a number of pack-saddles one upon another, upon which Pompey mounted, and gave them this in formation:—Mithridates is dead. He killed himself upon the revolt of his son Pharnaces. And Pharnaces has seized all that belonged to his father; w’hich he declares he has done for himself and the Romans.^^ At this news, the army, as might be expected, gave a loose to their joy, w’hich they expressed in sacrifices to the gods, and in reciprocal entertainments, as if ten thousand of their enemies had been slain by Mithridates. Pompey having thus brought the campaign, and the whole war, to a conclusion so happy, and so far beyond his hopes, immediately quitted Arabia, tra¬ versed the provinces between that and Galatia with great rapi¬ dity and soon arrived at Amisus. There he found many pre sents from Pharnaces, and several corpses of the royal family POxVlPE\ 199 £1110ng which was that of Mithridates. The face of that prince could not be -easily known, because the embalmers had not laken out the brain, and by the corruption of that, the fea¬ tures were disfigured. Yet some that *;vere curious to examine it, distinguished it by the scars. As for Pompey, he would not see the body, but to propitiate the avenging deity,^ sent it to Sinope. However, he looked upon and admired the magni¬ ficence of his habit, and the size and beauty of his arms. The scabbard of the sword which cost four hundred talents, was L'tolen by one Publius, who sold it to Ariarathres. And Caius, the foster-brother of Mithridates, took the diadem, which was of most exquisite workmanship, and gave it privately to Faus- t'J3 the son of Sylla, who had begged it of him. This escaped the knowledge of Pompey, but Pharnaces discovering it after¬ wards, punished the persons guilty of the theft. Pompey, having thoroughly settled the affairs of Asia, pro¬ ceeded in his return to Rome with more pomp and solemnity. When he arrived at Mytilene, he declared it a free city, for the sake of Theophanes, who was born there. He was pre¬ sent at the anniversary exercises of the poets, whose sole sub- ji^ct that year was the actions of Pompey. And he was so rraich pleased with their theatre, that he took a plan of it, with a cUisign to build one like it at Rome, but greater and more Boble. When he came to Rhodes, he attended the declama- tirvRs of all the sophists, and presented each of them with a Uicnt. Posidonius committee! the discourse to writing, which he made before him against the position of Hermagoras, ano¬ ther professor of rhetoric, concerning invention in general.t He .oehaved with equal munificence to the philosophers at Athens, an*! gave the people fifty talents for the repair of their city. He hoped to return to Italy the greatest and happiest of men, am I that his family would meet his affection with equal ar¬ dour. But the deity, whose care it is always to mix some Donion of evil with the highest and most splendid favours of tort une, had been long preparing him a sad welcome in his loiise. Mucia,^ in his absence, had dishonoured his bed * Nemesis. y Hermag’oras was for reducing* invention under two general heads, the rea- R?n of the process, and the state of the question; which limitation Cicerc disapproved as much as his master Posidonius. Vide Cicer. de. Invent, iihdor. lib. i. This Posidonius, who is of Apamea, is not to be confounded with Posido¬ nius of Alexandria, the disciple of Zeno. i Mucia was sister to Metellus Celer, and to Metellus Nepos. She wai debauched by Csesar; for which reason, when Pompey married C?esai*^s daughter, ail the world blamed him for turning off a wife by wliom he liad *h**e£"- children, to espouse the daughter of a man whom he had often, with.i 200 POMPEY. While he was at a distance, he disregarded the report; but upor. his approach to Italy, and a more mature examination into the affair,"he sent her a divorce, without assigning his reasons either then or afterwards. The true season is to be found in Cicero's epistles. People talked variously at Rome concerning Pompey’s in tentions. Many disturbed themselves at the thought that he would march with his army immediately to Rome, and make himself sole and absolute master there. Crassus look his chil¬ dren and money, and withdrew; whether it was that he had some real apprehensions, or rather that he chose to counte¬ nance the calumny, and add force to the sting of envy: the lat¬ ter seems more probable. But Pompey had no sooner set fool in Italy, than he called an assembly of his soldiers, and after a kind and suitable address, ordered them to disperse in their respective cities, and attend to their own affairs till his triumph, on which occasion they were to repair to him again. • As soon as it was known that his troops were disbanded, an .astonishing change appeared in the face of things. The cities .cering Pompey the Great unarmed, and attended by a few fricnas, as if he was returning only from a common tour, pour¬ ed out their inhabitants after him, who conducted him to Rome with the sincerest pleasure, and with a much greater force than that which he had dismissed; so that there would have been no need of the army, if he had formed any designs against the state. As the law did not permit him to enter the city before his triumph, he desired the senate to defer the election of consuls on his account, that he might by his presence support the in¬ terest of Piso. But Cato opposed it, and the motion miscar¬ ried.' Pompey admiring the liberty and firmness with which Cato maintained the rights and customs of his country, at a time when no other man wmuld appear so openly for them, de¬ termined to gain him if possible; and as Cato had two nieces, he offered to marry the one, and asked the other lor his son. Cato, however, suspected the bait, and looked upijn the pro¬ posed alliance as a means intended to corrupt his integrity. He, therefore, refused it, to the great regret of h’>s wife and sister, who could not but be displeased at his rejecting such ad¬ vances from Pompey the Great. Meantime, Pompey, being desirous to get the consulship for xMranius, distributed money for that purpose among the tribes, and the voters went to re¬ ceive it in Pompey’s own gardens. The thing wa**; so public, .‘iig'h, called his .S^g-isthus. Mucia’s disloyalty must have beer^ very public, since Cicero, in one of his letters to Atticus, says the divorce ot Hucia mectJ u idi general approbation.—-Lib. i. ep. xii. POMPEV. 201 that Pompey was muca censured for making that office venSil which he had Obtained by his great actions, and opening a way to the highest honour in the state to those who had money, but wanted merit. Cato then observed to the ladies of his fa¬ mily, that they must all have shared in this disgrace, if they had accepted Pompey’s alliance; upon which they acknow¬ ledged he was a better judge than they of honour and pro¬ priety. The triumph was so great, that though it was divided into two days, the time was far from being sufficient for displaying what was prepared to be carried in procession; there remained still enough to adorn another triumph. At the head of the show appeared the titles of the conquered nations; Pontus^ Armenia, Cappadocia, Paphlagonia, Media, Colchis, the Ibe¬ rians, the Albanians, Syria, Cilicia, Mesopotamia, Phoenicia, Palestine, Judea, Arabia, the pirates subdued both by sea and land. In these countries, it was mentioned, that there were not less than a thousand castles, and near nine hundred cities taken; eight hundred galleys taken from the pirates; and thir¬ ty-nine desolate cities repeopled. On the face of the tablets it appeared, besides, that whereas the revenues of the Roman empire, before these conquests, amounted to but fifty mil¬ lions ot drachmas^ by the new acquisitions they were advanced to eighty-five millions, and that Pompey had brought into the public treasury, in money, and in gold and silver vessels, to the value of twenty thousand talents, besides what he had distributed among the soldiers, of whom he that received least had fifteen hundred drachmas to his share. The captives who walked in the procession (not to mention the chiefs of the pirates) were the son of Tigranes king of Armenia; toge¬ ther with his wife and daughter, Zosima the wife of Tigranes himself; Aristobulus king of Judea; the sister of Mithridates, with her five sons; and some Scythian women. The hostages of the Albanians and Iberians, and of the king ofCommagene, also appeared in the train; and as many trophies were exhibit¬ ed as Pompey had gained victories, either in person or by his lieutenants, the number of which was not small. But the most honourable circumstance, and what no other Roman could boast, was, that his third triumph was over the third quarter of the world, after his former triumphs had been over the other two. Others before him had been honoured with three triumphs; but his first triumph was over Africa, his second over Europe, and his third over Asia; so that the three seemed to declare him conqueror of the world. Those who desire to make the parallel between him and Alexander agree in all respects, tell us he was at this time not quite thirty-four, whereas in fact, he was ent^>ring upon his VoL. Ill- 2 C 202 POMPEY fortieth year.* Happy it had been for him, if he had ended his days, while he was blessed with Alexander’s good fortune! Throughout the rest of his life, every instance of success brought its proportion of envy; and every miscarriage was ir¬ retrievable. For the authority which he haa gained by his merit, he employed for others in a way not very honourable; and his reputation consequently sinking, as they grew in strength, he was insensibly ruined by the weight of his own power. As it happens in a siege, every strong work that is taken adds to the besieger’s force; so Csesar, when raised by the influence of Pompey, turned that power which enabled him to trample upon his country, upon Pompey himself. It happened in this manner: Lucullus, who had been treated so unworthily by Pompey in Asia, upon his return to Rome, met with the most honour¬ able reception from the senate; and they gave him still greater marks of their esteem after the arrival of Pompey; endea¬ vouring to awake his ambition, and prevail with him to at¬ tempt the lead in the administration. But his spirit and active powers were by this time on the decline; he had given himself up to the pleasures of ease, and the enjoyments of wealth However, he bore up against Pompey with some vigour at first, and got his acts confirmed, which his adversary had an nulled; having a majority in the senate, through the assistance of Cato. Pompey, thus worsted in the senate, had recourse to the tribunes of the people, and to the young plebeians. Clodius, the most daring and profligate of them all, received him with open arms, but at the same time subjected him to all the hu¬ mours of the populace. He made him dangle after him in the forum in a manner far beneath his dignity, and insisted upon his supporting every bill that he proposed, and every speech that he made, to flatter and ingratiate himself with the people. And, as if the connection wdth him had been an honour instead of a disgrace, he demanded still higher wages; that Pompey should give up Cicero, who had ever been his fast friend, and of the greatest use to him in the administration. And these wages he obtained. For when Cicero came to be in danger, and requested Pompey’s assistance, he refused to see him, and, shutting his gates against those that came to intercede for film, went out at a back door. Cicero, therefore, dreading the issue of the trial, departed privately from Rome. * It should be forty-sixth year. Pompey was bom in the beginning* of the month of August, in the year of Rome G47, and his tiiumph was in the same month in the vear of Rome 69^. POMPEY. 203 At this time O^fisar retiming from his province,* undertook Alt alTair, which rendered him very popular at present, and, in its consequences, gained him power, but proved a great pre- iudice to JPompey, and to the whole commonwealth. He was then soliciting his first consulship, and Crassus and Pompey being at variance, he perceived, that if he should join the one, the other would be his enemy of course; he, therefore, set hirnseif to reconcile them;—a thing which seemed honourable in itself, and calculated for the public good: but the intention was insidious, though deep laid, and covered with the most refined policy. For while the power of the state was divided, it kept it in an equilibrium, as the burden of a ship properly distributed, keeps it from inclining to one side more than ano¬ ther; but when the power came to be all collected into one part, having nothing to counterbalance it, it overset and de¬ stroyed the commonwealth. Hence it was, that when some were observing that the constitution was ruined by the dif¬ ference which happened afterwards between Csesar and Pom¬ pey, Cato said,—‘‘You are under a great mistake: It was not their late disagreement, but their former union and connection, which gave the constitution the first and greatest blow.'^ To this union Caesar owed his consulship; and he was no sooner appointed, than he began to make his court to the indi¬ gent part of the people, by proposing laws for sending out colonies, and for the distribution of lands; by which he de¬ scended from the dignity of a consul, and in some sort tbok upon him the office of a tribune. His colleague Bibulus op¬ posed him, and Cato prepared to support Bibulus in the most strenuous manner: when Caesar placed Pompey by him upon tlie tribunal, and asked him, before the. wnole assembly,— “ Whether he approved his laws?’^ and upon his answering in the affirmative, he put this farther question,—“ Then, if any one shall with violence oppose these laws, will you come to the assistance of the people?’^ Pompey answered,—“ I will certainly come; and against those who threaten to take the sword I will bring both sword and buckler.’^ Pompey till that day had never said any thing so obnoxious; and his friends could only say by way of apology, that it was an expression which had escaped him. But it appeared, by the subsequent events, that he was then entirely at Caesar’s devotion: for within a few da3?'s, to the surprise of all the world, he married Julia, Caesar’s daughter, who had been pro- * Tt. was not at the time of Cicero’s g’oing* into exile, that Crrsar returned from his province of Spain, which he had governed with the title of pr?etor, but two years before. C?esar returned in the year of Rome 693, and Cicero niTcted Uorae in the year 695. 204 POMPEir. /nised to Csepio, and was upon the point cf being married u him. To appease the resentment of Caeplo, he gave him his own daughter, who had been before contracted to Faustus t])e son of Sylla; and Caesar married Culpurnia the daughter of Piso. Pompey then filled the city with soldiers, and carried every thing with open force. Upon Bibulus the consuPs making his appearance in the forum, together withLucullus and Cato, the soldiers suddenly fell upon him, and broke his fasces, Nay, one of them had the impudence to empty a basket of dung upon the head of Bibulus, and two tribunes of the people who accompanied him were wounded. The forum thus cleared of all opposition, the law passed for the division of lands. The people, caught by this oait, became tame and tractable in all respects, and, without questioning the expediency of any of their measures, silently gave their sutfi'ages to whatever was proposed. The acts of Pompey, which Liicullus had contest¬ ed, were confirmed; and the two Gauls on this and the othei side of the Alps, and Illyria, were allotted to Ccesar for five years, with four complete legions. At the same time, Piso, Caesar’s father-in-law, and Gabinius, one of the most abandon¬ ed flatterers of Pompey, were pitched upon for consuls for the ensuing year. Bibulus, finding matters thus carried, shut himself up in his house, and for the eight following months remained inatten¬ tive to the functions of his ofiice:^ contenting himself with publishing manifestos full of bitter invectives against Pom¬ pey and Caesar. Cato, on this occasion, as if inspired with a spirit of prophecy, announced in full senate the calamities which would befall the commonwealth, and Pompey himself. Lucullus for his part gave up all thoughts of state affairs and betook himself to repose, as if age had disqualified him for the concerns of government. Upon which Pompey observed, —That it was more unseasonable for an old man to give himself up to luxury, than to bear a public employment.” Yet, notwithstanding this observation, he soon suffered him¬ self to be effeminated by the love of a young woman: he gave up his time to her: he spent the day with her in his villas and gardens to Mie entire neglect of public affairs; insomuch that Clodius the tribune began to despise him, and to engage in the boldest designs against him. For after he had banislied Cicero, and sent Cato to Cyprus, under pretence of giving him the command in that island; when Caesar was gone upon his * Hence the wits of Rome, instead of saying*, such a thing* happened ir tlie consulship of Cxsar and Bibulus, said, it happened in the consulship oi Julius and Csesar. POMPEY. 205 . expedition into Gaul, and the tribune found the people entire¬ ly devoted to him, because he flattered their inclinations in ail the measures he took; he attempted to annul some of Pompey’s ordinances; he took his prisoner Tigranes from him, kept him in his own custody, and impeached some of his friends, in order to try in them the strengtl of Pompey’s interest. At last, when Pompey appeared against one oi these prosecutions, Clodius, having a crew of profligate and insolent wretches about him, ascended an eminence, and put the following ques¬ tions. Who is the licentious lord of Rome? Who is the man that seeks for a man?^ Who scratches his head with one fingerP^^t And his creatures like a chorus instructed in their part, upon his shaking his gown, answered aloud to every ques¬ tion, Pompey.X I'hese things gave Pompey uneasiness, because it was a new thing to him to be spoken ill of, and he was entirely un¬ experienced in that sort of war. That which afflicted him most, was his perceiving that the senate were pleased to see him the object of reproach, and punished for his desertion of Cicero. But when parties ran so high, that they came to blows in the forum^ and several were wounded on l 30 th sides, and one of the servants of Clodius was observed to creep in among the crowd towards Pompey, with a drawn sword in his hand, he was furnished with an excuse for not attendin g the public assemblies. Besides, he was really afraid to stand the impudence of Clodius, and all the torrent of abuse that might be expected from him, and, therefore, made his appearance no more during his tribuneship, but consulted in private with his friends, how to disarm the anger of the senate, and the valua¬ ble part of the citizens. Culleo advised him to repudiate Julia, and to exchange the friendship of Caesar for that of the senate; but he would not hearken to the proposal. Others proposed that he should recall Cicero, who was not only an avowed ene¬ my to Clodius, but the favourite of the senate; and he agreed to that overture. Accordingly, with a strong body of his re tainers, he conducted Cicero’s brother into the forum^ who was * Ti; atvdfct. ZwTJiy avS'f.ct was a proverbial expression broug-lit from Athens to Rome. It was taken originally from iEsop’s seeking an honest man with a lantern at noon-day; and, by degrees it came to signify the loss of manhood, or the manly character, which loss Pompey was allowed to Have sustained in the embraces of Julia. f Uiio scalpere digito was likewise a proverbial expression for a Roman petit-maitre. t Plutarch does not here keep exactly to the order of time. This hap« pened in the year of Rome 697, as appears frt m Dio (book xxxix.); that is, two years after what he is going to mention c« ncerning that tribune’s slave being taken with a sword. VoL. III. 206 POMPEY. to apphv to the people in his behalf; and after a scuiHe, in which several were wounded and some slain, he overpowered Clodius, and obtained a decree for the restoration of Cicero. Immediately upon his return, the orator reconciled the senate to Pompey, and by effectually recommending; the law which wc.s to entrust him with the care of supplying Rome with coru,"^ he made Pompey once more master of the Roman em¬ pire, both by sea and land. For, by this law, the ports, the markets, the disposal of provisions, in a word, the whole busi¬ ness of the mercnant and the husbandman, were brought under his jurisdiction. Clodius on the other hand alleged,—That the law was not made on account of the real scarcity of provisions, but that an artificial scarcity was caused for the sake of procuring the law, and that Pompey, by a new commission, might bring his pow¬ er to life again, which was sunk, as it were, in a delujuiwn,’^ Others say, it was the contrivance of the consul Spinther, to procure Pompey a superior employment, that he might him¬ self be sent to re-establish Ptolemy in his kingdom.! However, the tribune Canidius brought in a bill, the purport of which was, that Pompey should be sent without an army, and only with two Vidors^ to reconcile the Alexandrians to their king. Pompey did not appear displeased at the bill; but the senate threw it out, under the honourable pretence of not hazarding his person. Nevertheless, papers were found scat¬ tered in the forum and before the senate-house, importing that Ptolemy himself desired that Pompey might be employed to act for him instead of Spinther. Timagenes pretends, that Ptolemy left Egypt without any necessity, at the persuasion of Theophanes, who was desirous to give Pompey new occa¬ sions to enrich himself, and the honour of new commands. But the baseness of Theophanes does not so much support this story, as the disposition of Pompey discredits it; for there A^as nothing so mean and illiberal in his ambition. Tlie whole care of providing and importing corn being com¬ mitted to Pompey, he sent his deputies and agents into various parts, and went in person into Sicily, Sardinia, and Africa, where he collected great quantities. When lie was upon the point of re-embarking, a violent wind sprung up, and the ma¬ riners made a difficulty of putting to sea; but he was the first to go on board, and he ordered them to weigh anchor, with these decisive words :—‘‘ It is necessary to go; is it not ne * This law also g*ave Pompey proconsular authority for five years, both hi unci out of Italy.— Dio. lib. xxxix. f Ptolemy Auletes, the son of Ptolemy Lathyrus, hated by his subjects, and forced to fly, applied to the consul Spinther, who was to have the pro vlnce of Cilicia, to re-establish liim in his king*dom .—Dioy uhi supra. POMPEY. 207 cessary to live?’^ Ifis success was answerable to his spirit and intrepidity. He filled the markets with command covered the sea with his ships; insomuch that the overplus afforded a sup¬ ply to foreigners, and from Rome, as from a fountain, plenty flowed over the world. In the meantime, the wars in Gaul lifted Caesar to the first sphere of greatness. The scene of action was at a great dis¬ tance from Rome, and he seemed to be wholly engaged with the Belgae, the Suevi, and the Britons; but his genius all the while was privately at work among the people of Rome, and he was undermining Pompey in his most essential interests. His war with the barbarians was not his principal object. He ex¬ ercised his army, indeed, in those expeditions, as he would have done his own body, in hunting and other diversions of the field; by which he prepared them for higher conflicts, and rendered them not only formidable but invincible. The gold and silver, and other rich spoils which he took from the enemy in great abundance, he sent to Rome; and by distributing them freely among the aediles, praetors, consuls, and their wives, he gained a great party. Consequently, when he passed the Alps, and wintered at Lucca, among the crowd of men and women who hastened to pay their respects to him, there were two hundred senators, Pompey and Crassus of the number; and there were no fewer than a hundred and twenty proconsuls and praetors, whose fasces were to be seen at the gates of Caesar. He made it his business, in general, to give them hopes of great things, and his money was at their devo¬ tion; but he entered into a treaty with Crassus and Pompey, by which it was agreed that they should apply for the consul¬ ship, and that Caesar should assist them by sending a great number of his soldiers to vote at the election. As soon as they v/ere chosen, they were to share the provinces, and take the command of armies, according to their pleasure, only confirm¬ ing Caesar in the possession of what he had for five years more. As soon as this treaty got air, the principal persons in Rome were highly offended at it. Marcellinus, then consul, planted himself amidst the people, and asked Pompey and Crassus,— Whether they intended to stand for the consulship?^^ Pom pey spoke first, and said,^—Perhaps he might, perhaps ht might not.’’ Crassus answered, with more moderation,—He should do what might appear most expedient for the common¬ wealth.” As Marcellinus continued the discourse against * Dio makes him return an answer more suitable to his character:—It \s not on account of the virtuous and the g’ood that I desire any sluire in the mag'istracj’’, but that I may.be able to restrain the ill-disposed and the vie ditious.” 203 POMPEV PoiTipey, and seemed to bear barn him, Pompey said,— Where is the honour of that man. wtin has neither gratitude nor respect for him who made him an orator, who rescued him from want, and raised him to afBuence?^^ Others declined soliciting the consulshin, but Lucius Domi tius was persuaded and encouraged by Cato not to give it up —For the dispute,’^ he told him, was not for the consul ship, but in defence of liberty against tyrants.^^ Pompey and his adherents saw the vigour with which Cato acted, and that all the senate was on his side. Consequently, they were afraid that, so supported, he might bring over the uncorrupted part of the people. They resolved, therefore, not to suffer Domi- tius to enter forum^ and sent a party of men well armed, who killed Melitus, his torch-bearer, and put the rest to flight. Cato retired the last, and not till after he had received a wound in his right elbow, in defenUing Domitius. Thus they obtained the consulship by violence, and the rest of their measures were not conducted with more moderation: for, in the ffrst place, when the people were going to choose Cato prae'.tor, at the instant their suffrages were to be taken, Pompey dismissed the assembly, pretending he had seen an inauspicious flight of birds.* Afterwards the tribes, corrupted with money, declared Antias and Vatinius praetors. Then, in pursuance of their agreement with Caesar, they put Trebonius, one of the tribunes, on proposing a decree, by which the go¬ vernment of the Gauls was continued for five years inore to Caesar; Syria, and the command against the Parthians, were given to Crassus; and Pompey was to have all Africa, and both the Spains, with four legions; two of which he lent to Caesar, at his request, for the war in Gaul. Crassus, upon the expiration of his consulship, repaired to his province. Pompey, remaining at Rome, opened his thea¬ tre; and, to make the dedication more magnificent, exhibited a variety of gymnastic games, entertainments of music, and battles with wild beasts, in which were killed five hundred lions; but the battle of elephants afforded the most astonishing spectacle.t These things gained him the love and admiration * This was making* religion merely an engine of state, and it often proved a very convenient one for the purposes of ambition. Clodius, though other¬ wise one of the vilest tribunes that ever existed, was very right in attempt¬ ing to put a stop to that means of dismissing an assembly. He prefen-ed a oill, that no magistrate should make any observations on the heavens while POMPEY. w^hen *>ach a weight’^ of power, and extent :.f command, could not satisfy the ambition of two men. They had heard and read, that the gods had divided the universe into three shares,^ and each was content with that which fell to his lot, and yet these men could not think the Roman empire sufficient for two of them. Yet Pompey, in an address to the people at that time, told them,—He had received every commission they had honour¬ ed him with sooner than he expected himself, and laid it down sooner than was expected by the world.’’ And, indeed, the dismission of his troops always bore witness to the truth of that assertion. But now, being persuaded that Caesar would not disband his army, he endeavoured to fortify himself against him by great employments at home; and this without at¬ tempting any other innovation. For he would not appear to distrust him: on the contrary, he rather affected to despise him. However, when he saw the great offices of state not disposed of agreeably to his desire, but that the people were influenced, and his adversaries preferred for money, he thought it would best serve his cause to suffer anarchy to prevail. In consequence of the reigning disorders, a dictator was much talked of. Lucilius, one of the tribunes, was the first who ventured to propose it in form to the people, and he exhorted them to choose Pompey dictator. Cato opposed it so effectu¬ ally, that the tribune was in danger of being deposed. Many of Pompey’s friends then stood up in defence oi the purity of his intentions, and declared, he neither asked nor wished for the dictatorship. Cato, upon this, paid the highest compli¬ ments to Pompey, and entreated him to assist in the support of order and of the constitution. Pompey could not but ac¬ cede to such a proposal, and Domitius and Messala were elect¬ ed consuls. J * Weight is not the literal sig’nification of but as near as we could bring it; for depth of power would not sound well in English. 'Xoch'tov ■ m>AfxoviA(: is an expression similar to that of St. Paul, Rom. xi. 33: BA0O2 rXJtTK KAt Kelt 0««. f Plutarch alludes here to a passage in the fifteenth book of the Iliad^ wliere Neptune says to Iris,— “ Assign’d by lot our triple rule we know; Infernal Pluto sways the shades below; O’r the wide clouds, and o’er the starry plain, Ethereal Jove extends his high domain; My court beneath the hoary waves I keep, And hush the roarings of the sacred deep.” Pope. tin the year of Rome 700. Such corruption now prevailed among the RomaiiS, that candidates for the curule offices brought their money openly to the place of election, where they distributed it, without blusliing', among the heads of factions; and those who received it, employed force and vio* POMPEY. 211 The same anarchy and confusion afterwards took place again; and numbeis began to talk more bold y of setting up a dicta¬ tor. Cato, now fearing he should be overborne, was of opinion that it was better to give Pompey some office whose authority was limited by law, than to entrust him with absolute power. iPibulus, though Pompey’s declared enemy, moved in full se¬ nate, that he should be appointed sole consul:—For, by tliat means,’’ said he, the commonwealth will either recover from her disorder, or, if she must serve, will serve a man of the greatest merit.” The whole house was surprised at the mo¬ tion; and when Cato rose up, it was expected he would op¬ pose it. A profound silence ensued and he said,—He should never have been the first to propose such an expedient, but as it was proposed by another, he thought it advisable to embrace it; for he thought any kind of government better than anarchy, and knew no man fitter to rule than Pornpey, in a time of so much trouble.” The senate came into his opinion, and a decree was issued, that Pompey should be appointed sole consul; and that if he should have need of a colleague, he might choose one himself, provided it were not before "the expiration of two months. Pompey being declared sole consul by the Tnterex^ Sulpitius made his compliments to Cato, acknowledged himself much indebted to his support, and desired his assistance and advice in the cabinet as to the measures to be pursued in his ad min is¬ tration. Cato made answer,—That Pompey was not under the least obligation to him; for what he had said was not out of regard to him, but to his country. If you apply to me,” continued he, I shall give you my advice in private; if not, I shall inform you of my sentiments in public.” Such was Cato, and the same on all occasions. Pompey then went into the city, and married Cornelia, the daughter of Metellus Scipio.’^^ She was not a virgin, but a widow, having been married, wdien very young, to Publius the son of Crassus, who was lately killed in the Parthian expe¬ dition. This woman had many charms beside her beauty. She was well versed in polite literature: she played upon the lyre, and understood geometry; and she had made considerable improvements by the precepts of philosophy. What is more, she had nothing of that petulance and atfectation, which such studies are apt to produce in women of her age: and her fa¬ ther’s iamily and reputation were unexceptionable. lence in favour of those persons who paid them; so that scarce any office .vas disposed of but what had been disputed with the sword, and cost the 'ives of many citizens. * The son of Scipio Nasica, but aborted into the family of the Metelli. 212 POMPEY. Many, however, »vere displOciSed with this match, on ac¬ count of the disproportion of years: they thought Cornelia would have been more suitable to his son than to him. Those tliat were capable of deeper reflection, thought the concerns of the commonwealth neglected, which in a distressful case had chosen him for its physician, and confided in him alone. It grieved them to see him crowned with garlands, and offering sacrifice amidst the festivities of marriage, when he ought to have considered his consulship as a public calamity, since it would never have been given him in a manner so contrary to the laws, had his country been in a prosperous situation. His first step was to bring those to account who gained of¬ fices and employments by bribery and corruption, and he made laws by which the proceedings in their trials were to be regu¬ lated. In other respects he behaved with great dignity and honour; and restored security, order, and tranquillity, to the courts of judicature, by presiding there in person with a band of soldiers. But when Scipio, his father-in-law, came to be impeached, he sent for the three hundred and sixty judges to his house, and desired their assistance. The accuser, seeing Scipio conducted out of the forum to his house by the judges themselves, dropped the prosecution. This again eAjjosed Pompey to censure: but he was censured still more, when, after having made a law against encomiums on persons ac¬ cused, he broke it himself, by appearing for Plancus, and at¬ tempting to embellish his character. Cato, who happened to be one of the judges, stopped his ears; declaring,—It was not right for him to hear such embellishments, contraiy to the law.'" Cato, therefore, was cbjccted to and set aside before sentence was })assed. Plancus, however, was condemned by the other judges, to the great confusion of Pompey.^ A few days after, Hypsaeus, a man of consular dignity, be¬ ing under a criminal prosecution, watched Pompey’s going from the bath to supper, and embraced his knees in the most suppliant manner. But Pompey passed with disdain, and all the answer he g«ave him was,—That his importunities served only to spoil his supper.’^ This partial and unequal behaviour was justly tlie object of reproach. But all the rest of his con¬ duct merited jnaiso, and he had the happiness to re-establish good order in oominonwealth. He took his father-in-law for his colleague the remaining five months. His governments were contiiiU»xl to him for four years more, and he was allow¬ ed a thousand talents a year for the su Dsistence and pay of his troops. * Cicero, who managed the impeachment, was much delighted with tlic success of his eloquence; as appears from his epistle to Marius, lib. vii, ep. 'i POMPEY. 213 C^esar^s friends laid hold on this occasion to represent, that some consideration should be had of him too, and his many g;reat and laborious services for his country. They said, he certainly deserved either another consulship, or to have the term of his commission prolono'ed; that he might keep the command in the provinces he had conquered, and enjoy, un¬ disturbed, the honours he had won; and that no successor might rob him of the fruit of his labours, or the glory of his actions. A dispute arising upon the afl'air, Pompey, as if in¬ clined to fence against the odium to which Caesar might be ex¬ posed by this demand, said, he had letters from Caesar, in which he declared himself willing to accept a successor, and to give up the command in Gaul; only he thought it reasona¬ ble that he should be permitted, though absent, to stand for the consulship.^- Cato opposed this with all his force, and in¬ sisted,—That Caesar should lay down his arms, and return as a private man, if he had any favour to ask of his country.” And as Pompey did not labour the point, but easily acquies ced, it was suspected he had no real friendship for Caesar. This appeared more clearly, when he sent for the two legions which he had lent him, under pretence of wanting them for the Par- ' thian war. Caesar, though he well knew for what purpose the le2:ions were demanded, sent them home laden with rich pre¬ sents. After this Pompey had a dangerous illness at Naples, of which, however, he recovered. Praxagoras then advised the Neapolitans to offer sacrifices to the gods, in gratitude for his recovery. The neighbouring cities followed their example; and the humour spreading itself over Italy, there was not a town or village which did not solemnize the occasion with fes¬ tivals. No place could afford room for the crowds that came in from all quarters to meet him; the high roads, the villages, the ports, were filled with sacrifices and entertainments. Ma¬ ny received him with garlands on their heads, and torches in their hands, and, as they conducted him on his way, strewed it with flowers. His returning with such pomp afforded a glo¬ rious spectacle; but it is said to have been one of the principal causes of the civil war. For the joy he conceived on this oc¬ casion, added to the high opinion he had of his achievements, intoxicated him so far, that bidding adieu to the caution and prudence which put his good fortune, and the glory of his ac¬ tions upon a sure footing, he gave into the most extravagant presumption, and even contempt of Caesar; insomuch, that he * There was a law ag'alnst any absent person’s being* admitted a candidate- out pompey had added a clause, which empowered the people to except any man by name from personal attendance. 14 POMPEY. declared,—He haci no need of arms, oi any extraordinary preparations against him, since he could pull him down with much more ease than he had set him up.*^ Besides, when Appius returned from Gaul with the legions w^hich had been lent to Caesar, he endeavoured to disparage the actions of that general, and to represent him in a mean light:—Pompey,’^ he said, “ knew not his own strength, and the influence of his name, if he sought any other defence against Caesar, upon whom his own forces would turn as soon as they saw the former; such was their hatred of the one, and their afl'ection for the other. Pompey was so much elated at this account, and his confi¬ dence made him so extremely negligent, that he laughed at those who seemed to fear the war. And when they said, that if Caesar should advance in a hostile manner to Rome, they did not see what forces they had to oppose him, he bade them, with an open and smiling countenance, give themselves no pain:—For if in Italy,’^ said he, “ 1 do but stamp upon the ground, an army will appear.'^ Meantime, Caesar was exerting himself greatly. Fie was now at no great distance from Italy, and not only sent his sol¬ diers to vote in the elections, but, by private pecuniary ap¬ plications, corrupted many of the magistrates. Paulus the consul, was of the number, and he had fifteen hundred talents^ for changing sides. So w^ere also Curio, one of the tribunes of the people, for whom he paid off an immense debt, and Mark Antony, who, out of friendship for Curio, had stood en¬ gaged with him for the debt. It is said, that when one of Caesar’s officers, who stood be¬ fore the senate-house, waiting the issue of the debates, was informed, that they would not give Caesar a longer term in his command, he laid his hand upon his sword, and said, ^"'But this shall give it.” Indeed, all the actions and preparations of this general tend¬ ed that way; though Curio’s demands in behalf of Caesar seemed more plausible. He proposed that either Pompey should likewise be obliged to dismiss his forces, or Caesar suf¬ fered to keep his:—If they are both reduced to a private station,” said he, they will agree upon reasonable terms; or, if each retains his respective power, they will be satisfied But he who weakens the one, witliout doing the same by the other, must double that force which he fears will subvert the government. ”t * 290,625/. sterling*. With this money he built the stately Basilica that afterwards bore his name. f Cornelius Scipio, one of Pompey’s friends, remonstrated, th^at, in the POMPEY. 215 Hereupon, PvTarcellus the consul called Caesar a pdblie rob her, and insisted that he should be declared an enemy to the state, if he did not lay down his arms. However, Curio, to gether with Antony and Piso, prevailed that a farther inquiry should be made into the sense of the senate. He first proposed that such as were of opinion,—That Caesar should disband his army, and Pompey keep his,” should draw to one side of the house; and there appeared a majority for that motion. Then he proposed, that the number of those should be taken, whose sense it was ,—‘‘ That both should lay down their arms, and neither remain in command;” upon which question, Pom- j)ey had only twenty-two, and Curio all the rest.^ Curio, proud of his victory, ran in transports of joy to the assembly of the people, who received him with the loudest plaudits, and crowned him with flowers. Pompey was not present at the debate in the house; for the commander of an army is not al¬ lowed to enter the city. But Marcellus rose up, and said,— ‘‘ 1 will no longer sit to hear the matter canvassed; but, as 1 see ten legions have already passed the Alps, 1 will send a man to oppose them in behalf of my country.” Upon this the city went into mourning, as in a time of pub¬ lic calamity. Marcellus walked through the forurtij followed by the senate, and when he was in sight of Pompey without the gate, he said ,—‘‘ Pompey, I charge you to assist your country; for which purpose you shall make use of the troops you have, and levy what new ones you please.” Lentulus, one of the consuls elect for the next year, said the same. But when Pompey came to make the new levies, some absolutely refused to enlist; others gave in their names in small numbers, and with no spirit; and the greatest part cried out ,—“ A peace! a peace!” For Antony, notwithstanding the injunctions of the senate to the contrary, had read a letter of Csesar^s to the people, well calculated to gain them. He proposed, that both Pompey and he should resign their governments, and dismiss their forces, and then come and give account of their conduct to the people. Lentulus, who by this time had entered upon his oflice, would not assemble the senate; for Cicero, who was now re¬ turned from his government in Cilicia, endeavoured to bring about a reconciliation. He proposed, that Caesar should give up Gaul, and disband the greatest part of his army; and, keep- present case, a great difference was to be made between the proconsul of Spain and the proconsul of Gaul, since the term of the former was not ex¬ pired, whereas that of the latter was. * Dio, on the contrary, affirms, that, upon this question, the senate w*:r 9 almost unanimous for Pompey; only two voting for Caesar, viz. My-rc Cjecilius and Cimio. 216 POMPEY. mg only two legions and the province of Illyricuin, wait fci another consulship. As Pompey received this proposal very ill, Csesar's friends were persuaded to agree, that he should keep only one of those two legions. But Lentulus was against it, and Cato cried out,—That Pompey was committing a second error in suffering himself to be so imposed upon:*^ the reconciliation, therefore, did not take effect. At the same time new’s was brought, that Caesar had seized Ariminum, a considerable city in Italy, and that he was march¬ ing directly towards Rome with all his forces. The last cir¬ cumstance, indeed, w’as not true. He advanced with only three hundred horse and five thousand foot: the rest of his forces were on the other side the Alps, and he would not wait for them, choosing rather to put his adversaries in confusion by a sudden and unexpected attack, than to fight them when better prepared. When he came to the river Rubicon, which was the boundary of his province, he stood silent a long time, weighing with himself the greatness of his enterprise. At last, like one who plunges down from the top of a precipice into a gulf of immense depth, he silenced his reason, and shui his eyes against the danger; and crying out in the Greek lan¬ guage,—The die is cast,” he marched over with his army. Upon the first report of this at Rome, the city was in greater disorder and astonishment than had ever been known. The senate and the magistrates ran immediately to Pompey. Tub- lus* asked him, what forces he had ready for the war: and as he hesitated in his answer, and only said at last, in a tone ot no great assurance,—That he had the two legions lately sent him back by Caesar; and that out of the new levies he believ¬ ed he should shortly be able to make up a body of thirty thou¬ sand men;” Tullus exclaimed,—“0 Pompey, you have de¬ ceived us!” and gave it as his opinion, that ambassadors should immediately be despatched to Caesar. Then one Favonius, a man otherwise of no ill character, but who, by an insolent brutality, affected to imitate the noble freedom of Cato, bade Pompey,—Stamp upon the ground, and call forth the armies he had promised.” Pompey bore this ill-timed reproach with great mildness; and when Cato put him in mind of the warnings he had given him, as to Caesar, from the first, he said,—Cato, indeed, had spoken more like a prophet, and he had acted more like a friend.” Cato then advised, that Pompey should not only be appointed general, but invested with a discretionarA' powder; adding that those who were the authors of great ev: 6, k:Ae^’ * Lucius Volcatius Tullus. POMPEY. 217 best how to cure them.’’ So saying, he set out for his province of Sicily, and the other great officers departed for theirs. Almost all Italy was now in motion, and nothing could be more perplexed than the whole face of things. Those who lived out of Rome, fled to it from all quarters, and those who lived in it, abandoned it as fast. These saw that in such a tempestuous and disorderly state of affairs, the well-disposed part of the city wanted strength; and that the ill-disposed were so refractory, that they could not be managed by the magistrates. The terrors of the people could not be removed, and no one would suffer Pompey to lay a plan of action for himself. According to the passion wherewith each was ac¬ tuated, whether fear, sorrow, or doubt, they endeavoured to inspire him with the same; insomuch, that he adopted different measures the same day. He could gain no certain intelligence of the enemy’s motions, because every man brought him the report he happened to take up, and was angry if it did not meet with credit Pompey, at last, caused it to be declared by an edict in form, that the commonwealth was in danger, and no peace to be ex¬ pected.^ After which, he signified, that he should look upon those who remained in the city as the partizans of Caesar; and then quitted it in the dusk of the evening. The consuls also fled, without offering the sacrifices which their customs re¬ quired before a war. However, in this great extremity, Pom¬ pey could not but be considered as happy in the affections of his countrymen. Though many blamed the \var, there was not a man who hated the general. Nay, the number of those who followed him out of attachment to his person, was greater than that of the adventurers in the cause of liberty. A few days after, Caesar arrived at Rome. When he was in possession of the city, he behaved with great moderation in many respects, and composed, in a good measure, the min do* of its remaining inhabitants. Only when Metellus, one of the tribunes of the people, forbade him to touch the money in the pubh-c treasury, he threatened him with death, adding an ex¬ pression more terrible than the threat itself,—That it was easier for him to do it than to say it.” Metellus being thus frightened off, Caesar took what sums he wanted, and then went in pursuit of Pompey; hastening to drive him out of Italy before his forces could arrive from Spain. * The Latin word tumul*y.s^ which Plutarch has rendered is a very incomprehensive one The Romans did not care to call the commo* tions which happened among them, or near them, before direct hostilities were commenced, by the name of war; they distinguished them by the name of tumultus. Vox HI.-2 E 10 218 jpOMPEY. Pompey, who was master of Brundusium, and nad a suffi* * * § cient number of transports, desired the consuls to embarh without loss of time, and sent them before him with thirty cohorts to Dyrrhachium. At the same time he sent his father- in-law Scipio, and his son Cn^eus, into Syria to provide ships of war. He had well secured the gates of the city, and planted the lightest of his slingers and archers upon the walls; and having now ordered the Brundusians to keep within doors, he caused a number of trenches to be cut and sharp stakes to be driven into them, and then covered with earth, in all the streets except two which led down to the sea. In three days all his other troops were embarked without interruption, and then he suddenly gave the signal to those who guarded the walls; in consequence of which, they ran swiftly down to the harbour^ and got on board. Thus having his whole complement, he set sail and crossed the sea to Dyrrhachium. When Csesar came and saw the walls left destitute of de¬ fence;^ he concluded that Pompey had taken to flight, and in his eagerness to pursue, would certainly have fallen upon the sharp stakes in the trenches, had not the Brundusians inform¬ ed him of them. He then avoided tht. streets,! and took a circuit round the town, by which he discovered, that all the vessels were set out, except two that had not many soldiers aboard. This manoeuvre of Pompey was commonly reckoned among the greatest acts of generalship. Caesar, however, could not help wondering that his adversary, who was in possession of a fortified town, and expected his forces from Spain, and, at the same time, was master of the sea, should give up Italy in such a manner. Cicerof too, blamed him for imitating the conduct of Themistocles, rather than that of Pericles, when the posture of his affairs more resembled the circumstances of the latter. On the other hand, the steps which Caesar took, showed he was afraid of having the war drawn out to any length: for having taken Numeriiis,§ a friend of Pompey^s, he had sent him to Brundusium, with offers of coming to an accommoda- • Caesar besieged the place nine days; during which he not only invested it on the land side, but undertook to shut up the port by 2 l staccato of his ow^n invention. However, before the work could be completed, Pompey made his escape. ! 'rw 'jroy v/i kai Kvn.>M perhaps means,—That he avoid¬ ed the principal streets, and came, by many windings and turnings, to the haven. t Ep. to Atticus, vii. 11. § Caesar calls him Cn, Magiiis, He w^as master of Pompey’s Board of Works. POMPEY. 219 tion upon re^isonable terms. But Numevius, instead of re¬ turning with an answer, sailed away with Pompey. Caesar thus made himself master of all Italy in sixty days, without the least bloodshed, and he would have been glad to have gone immediately in pursuit of Pompey. But as he was in want of shipping, he gave up that design for the present, and marched to Spain, with an intent to gain the forces there. In the meantime, Pompey assembled a great army; and at sea he was altogether invincible; for he had five hundred shins of war, and the number of his lighter vessels was still greater. As for his land forces, he had seven thousand horse, the flower of Rome and Italy,'^ all men of family, fortune, and courage. His infantry, though numerous, was a mixture of raw undisciplined soldiers. He, therefore, exercised them during his stay at Beroea, where he was by no means idle, but went through all the exercises of a soldier, as if he had been in the flower of his age. It inspired his troops with new courage, when they saw Pompey the Great, at the age of fifty-eight, going through the whole military discipline, in heavy armour, on foot; and then mounting his horse, drawing his sword with ease, when at full speed, and as dexterously sheathing it again. As to the javelin, he threw it not only with great exactness, but with such force, that few of the young men could dart it to a greater distance. Many kings and princes repaired to his camp, and the num¬ ber of Roman officers who had commanded armies was so great, that it was sufficient to make up a complete senate. Labienus,t who had been honoured with Caesar’s friendship, and served jnder him in Gaul, now joined Pompey. Hven Brutus, the son of that Brutus who was killed by him, not very fairly in the Cisalpine Gaul,J a man of spirit, who had never spoken to * Caesar, on the contrary, says, that this body of horse was almost entirely compo'^ed of strang’ers;—“ There were six hundred Galatians, five hundred Cappadocians, as many Thracians, two hundred Macedonians, five hundred Gauls or Germans, eight hundred raised out of his own estates, or out of hia own retinue;” and so of the rest, whom he particularly mentions, and tells us to what countries they belonged. fit seemed very strange, says Dio, that Labienus should abandon Cxsar, who had loaded him with honours, and given him the command of all the forces on the other side of the Alps, while he was at Rome. But he gives this reason for it:—“ Labienus, elated with his immense wealth, and proud of his preferments, forgot himself to such a degree, as to assume a character very unbecoming a person in his circumstances. He was even for putting- himself upon an equality with Caesar, who thereupon grew cool towards him, and treated him with some reserve, which Labienus resented, and went over to Pompey.” t The former English translator renders this Galatia. He ought to have remembered, that this Brutus was killed by Geminius, in a village near tlic Pt», by Pompey’s order, after he liad accepted his submission, if not pro* 220 POMPKV. Pompey before, because he considered him as the murderer of his father, now ranged himself under his banners, as the defender of the liberties of his country. Cicero, too, though he had written and advised otherwise, was ashamed not to ap- S ear in the number of those who hazarded their lives for 'ome. Tidius Sextius, though extremely old, and maimed of one leg, repaired, among the rest, to his standard in Macedc- nia; and though others only laughed at the poor appearance he made, Pompey no sooner cast his eyes upon him than he rose up and ran to meet him; considering it as a great proof of the justice of his cause, that, in spite of age and weakness, persons should come and seek danger with him, rather than stay at home in safety. But after Pompey had assembled his senate, and, at the mo¬ tion of Cato, a decree was made,—That no Roman should be killed except in battle, nor any city that v/as subject to the Romans be plundered,’^ Pompey’s party gained ground daily. Those who lived at too great a distance, or were too weak to take a share in the war, interested themselves in the cause as much ?s they were able, and, with words at least, contended for it; looking upon those as enemies both to the gods and men, who did not wish that Pompey might conquer. Not but that Csesar made a merciful use of his victories. He had lately made himself master of Pompey’s forces in Spain, and though it was not without a battle, he dismissed the officers, and incorporated the troops with his own. After this he passed the Alps again, and marched through Italy to Brun- dusium, where he arrived at the time of the winter solstice. There, he crossed the sea, and landed at Oricum: from whence he despatched Vibullius,^ one of Pompey’s friends, whom he had brought prisoner thither, with proposals of a conference between him and Pompey, ‘‘ in which they should agree to dis¬ band their armies within three days, renew their friendship, confirm it with solemn oaths, and then both return to Italy, Pompey took this overture for another snare, and therefore drew down in haste to the sea, and secured all the forts and places of strength for land-forces, as well as all the ports and other commodious stations for shipping; so that there was not a wind that blew, which did not bring him either provisions, mlsecl him his life. The authors of the Universal History have copied the error. * In the printed text it is Juhius; but one of the manuscripts gives us Vi bullius, which is the name he has in Cxsar*s Com. lib. iii. Vibullius Rufm travelled night and day, without allowing himself any rest, till he reached Pompey’s camp, who had not yet received advice of Caesar’s arrival, but waa no sooner informed of the taking of Oricum and Apollonia, tlian be imme diately decamped, and by long marches reached Oricum before Caesar. POMPEY. 2iJ\ or troops, or jnoney. On the other hand, Cxsar was reduced to such straits, both by sea and land, that he was under the necessity of seeking a battle. Accordingly he attacked Pom- pey’s entrenchments, and bade him defiance daily. In most of these attacks and skirmishes he had the advantage; but one day he was in danger of losing his whole army. Pompey fought with so much valour, that he put Caesar^s whole detach¬ ment to flight, after having killed two thousand of them upon the spot: but was either unable or afraid to pursue his blow, and enter their camp with them. Caesar said to nis friends on the occasion,—This day the victory had been the enemy’s, had their general known how to conquer.”^ Pompey’s troops, elated with this success, were in great haste to come to a decisive battle. Nay, Pompey himself seemed to give into their opinions, by writing to the kings, the generals, and cities in his interest, in the style of a con¬ queror. Yet all this while he dreaded the issue of a gene¬ ral action; believing it much better, by length of time, by fa¬ mine and fatigue, to tire out men who had been ever invinci¬ ble in arms, and long accustomed to conquer when they fought together. Besides, he knew the infirmities of age had made them unfit for the other operations of war, for long marches and countermarches, for digging trenches, and building forts; and that, therefore, they wished for nothing so much as a bat¬ tle. Pompey, with all these arguments, found it no easy mat¬ ter to keep his army quiet. After this last engagement, Caesar was in such want of pro¬ visions, that he was forced to decamp, and he took his way through Athamania to Thessaly. This added so much to the high opinion Pompey’s soldiers had of themselves, that it was impossible to keep it within bounds. They cried out with one voice,—“ Caesar is fled.” Some called upon the general to pursue, some to pass over to Italy: others sent their friends and servants to Rome, to engage houses near the forum^ for the convenience of soliciting the great officer* of state; and not a few went of their own accord to Cornelia, who had been privately lodged in Lesbos, to congratulate her upon the con¬ clusion of the war. * Yet it may be observed, in defence of Pompey, that as Hs troops were raw and inexperienced, it was not amiss to try them in many skirmishes and li^ht attacks, before he hazarded a general eng’agement with an army of veterans. Many instances of that kind might be produced from the conduct of the ablest generals. And we are persuaded, chat if Pompey had attemjiT.. ed to force C?esar’s camp, he would have been repulsed with losf and dis¬ grace Pompey’s greatest error seems to have been liis suffering bhnself to be brought to an action at last, by the importunity of Ihs oflicei’S and sol- dicT5^ against his better judgment. 19^ 222 POMPEY On this great emergency, a council of war was called; which Afranius gave it as his opinion,—^^That they ought immediately to regain Italy, for that was the great prize aimed at in the war. Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, Spain, and both the Gauls, would soon submit to those who were masters there. What should aflect Pompey still more, was, that his native, country, just by, stretched out her hands to him as a suppliant, and it could not be consistent with his honour to let her re mam under such indignities, and so disgraceful a vassalage to the slaves and flatterers of tyrants.^^ But Pompey thought it would neither be for his reputation to fly a second time from Caesar, and again to be pursued, when fortune put it in his power to pursue; nor agreeable to the laws of piety, to leave liis father-in-law Scipio, and many other persons of consular dignity, in Greece and Thessaly, a prey to Csesar, with all their treasures and forces. As for Rome, he should take the best care of her, by fixing the scene of war at the greatest dis¬ tance from her; that, without feeling its calamities, or perhaps hearing the report of them, she might quietly wait for the conqueror. This opinion prevailing, he set out in pursuit of Caesar, with a resolution not to hazard a battle, but to keep near enough to hold him, as it were besieged, and to w'ear him out with fa¬ mine. This he thought the best method he could take; and a report was, moreover, brought him, of its being whispered among the equestrian order,—That as soon as they had taken off Caesar, they could do nothing better than take off him too.^^ Some say, this was the reason why he did not employ Cato in any service of importance, but, upon his march against Caesar, sent him to the sea coast to take care of the baggage, lest, after he had destroyed Caesar, Cato should soon oblige him to lay down his commission. While he thus softly followed the enemy^s steps, a complaint was rarised against him, and urged with much clamour, that he was not exercising his generalship upon Caesar, but upon the senate, and the whole commonwealth, in order that he might for ever keep the command in his hands, and have those for his guards and servants who had a right to govern the world. Domilius A^inobarbus, to increase the odium^ always called him Agamemnon, or king of kings. Favonius piqued him no less with a jest, than others by their unseasonable severity: he went about crying,—My friends, we shall eat no figs in Tusculum this year.^^ And Lucius Afranius, who lost the forces in Spain, and was accused of having betrayed them into the ene¬ my’s hands, now when he saw Pompey avoid a battle, said,— “ He was surprised that his accusers should make anv difh- POMPEY. 223 culty of fighting that merchant (as they called h^m), who trafticked for provinces.’’ These, and many other like sallies of ridicule, had such an effect upon Pompey, who was ambitious of being spoken well of by th^e world, and had too much deference for the opinions of his friends, that he gave up his own better judgment, to follow them in the career of their false hopes and prospects; a thing which would have been unpardonable in the pilot or master of a ship, much more in the commander-in-chief of so many nations and such numerous armies. He had often com¬ mended the physician who gives no indulgence to the whim¬ sical longings of his patients; and yet he humoured the sickly cravings of his army, and was afraid to give them pain, though necessary for the preservation of their life and being. For who can say that army was in a sound and healthy state, when some of the officers went about the camp canvassing for the offices of consul and praetor; and others, namely, Spinther, Domitius, and Scipio, were engaged in quarrels and cabals about Caesar’s high-priesthood, as if their adversary had been only a Tigranes, a king of Armenia, or a prince of the Naba- thaeans; and not that Caesar, and that army, who had stormed a thousand cities, subdued above three hundred nations, gained numberless battles of the Germans and Gauls, taken a m.illion of prisoners, and killed as many fairly in the field? Notwith¬ standing all this, they continued loud and tumultuous in their demands of a battle, and when they came to the plains of Pharsalia, forced Pompey to call a council of war. Labienus, who had the command of the cavalry, rose up first, and took an oath,—That ha would not return from the battle, till he had put the enemy to flight.” All the other officers swore the same. The night following Pompey had this dream:^—He thought he entered his own theatre, and was received with loud plaudits: after which, he adorned the temple of Venus the Vic- torious with many spoils.” This vision, on one side, encou¬ raged him, and on another, alarmed him. He was afraid that Caesar, who was a descendant of Venus, would be aggrandized at his expense. Besides, a panict fear ran through the camp^ the noise of which awaked him. And about the morning * At nox felicis Magno pars ultima vitx Sollicitos vana decepit imagine somnos. Nam Pompeiani visas sibi sede theatn Iimiimeram effigiem RomaniE cernere pkbis, Attollique suum Izetis ad sidera nomen Vocibus, et plausu cuneos cerrare sonantes. Lucan^ lib. vii. •f Panic fears were so called, from tlie terror wliich the god Pan is said t£ struck the enemies of Greece witli at the battle of Marathon. 224 POT^IPEY. watch, over Caesar^s camp, where every thing was perfectly quiet, there suddenly appealed a great light, from which a stream of fire issued, in the form of a torch, and fell upon that of Pompey. Caesar himself says, he saw it as he was going his rounds. Caesar was preparing, at break of day, to march to Scotusa; ’^ his soldiers were striking their tents, and the servants, and oeasts of burden, were already in motion, when his scouts brought intelligence that they had seon arms handed about in the enemy’s camp, and perceived a noise and bustle, which in¬ dicated an approaching battle. After these, others came and assured him that the first ranks were drawn up. Upon this Caesar said,—“The long-wished day is come, on which we shall fight with men, and not with want and fa¬ mine.” Then he immediately ordered the red mantle to be put up before his pavilion, which, among the Romans, is the signal of a battle. The soldiers no sooner beheld it than they left their tents as they were, and ran to arms with loud shouts, and every expression of joy. And when the officers began to put them in order of battle, each man fell into his proper rank as quietly, and with as much skill and ease, as a chorus in a tragedy. Pompeyt placed himself in his right wing, over against An- in tiirj printed text is evidently a comiption. An anonymous manuscript g^ives us .r:j; XKOTnasLv. Scotusa was a city of Thessaly. Csesar was persuaded that Tornpey would not come to action, and therefore chose to march in search of nrovdsions, as well as to harass tlie enemy with fre- quent movements, and to watch his opportunity, in some of those move¬ ments, to fall upon them. j It is somewhat surprising*, that the account which Caesar himself has left us of this memorable battle should meet with contradiction. Yet so it is; Plutarch differs vridely from him, and Appian from both. According* to Caesar {Bell. Civil, lib. iii.), Pompey was on the left, with the two legions which Caesar had returned him at the beginning* of the war. Scipio, Pom- ])ey’s father-in-law, was in the centre, with the legions he had brought from Syria, and the reinforcements sent by several kings and states of Asia. The Cilician legion, and some cohorts which had served in Spain, were in the right, under the command of Afranius. As Pompey’s right wing was cover¬ ed by tlie Enipeus, he strengthened the left with the seven thousand horse, as well as with the slingers and archers. The whole army, consisting of forty-five thousand men, was drawn up in three lines, with very little spaces between them. In conformity to this disposition, Ceesar’s army was drawn up in the following order:—The tenth legion, which had on all occasions signalized itself above the rest, was placed in the riglit wing, and the nintii in the left; but as the latter had been considerably weakened in the action at Dyrrhachium, the eighth legion was posted so near it as to be able to support and reinforce it upon occasion. The rest of Cicsar’s forces filled up the spaces between the two wings. Mark Antony commanded the left wing Sylla the right, and Cneius Domitius Calvinus the main body. As for Cse POIPEY. 22 !) tony; and his father-in-law, Scipio, in the centre, opposite Domitius Calvinus. His left wing was commanded by Luciuv Domitius, and supported by the cavalry; for they were aim or* all ranged on that side, in order to break in upon Caesar, ane cutoff the tenth legion, which was accounted the bravest ir his army, and in which he used to fight in person. Caesar S'jeing the enemy’s left wing so well guarded with horse, anc fearing the excellence of their armour, sent for a detachmen? Cjf six cohorts from the body of reserve, and placed them be- nind the tenth legion, with orders not to stir before the attack, lest they should be discovered by the enemy; but when the enemy’s cavalry had charged, to make up through the fore¬ most ranks, and then not to discharge their javelins at a dis¬ tance, as brave men generally do in their eagerness to come to sword in hand; but to reserve them till they came to close fighting, and push them upwards into the eyes and faces of the enemy:—For those fair young dancers,” said he, “will ne¬ ver stand the steel aimed at their eyes, but will fly to save their handsome faces.” While Csesar was thus employed, Pompey took a view or horseback of the order of both armies; and finding that the enemy kept their ranks with the utmost exactness, and quietly waited for the signal of battle, while his own men, for want of experience, were fluctuating and unsteady, he was afraid they would be broken on the first onset. He therefore com¬ manded the vanguard to stand firm in the ranks,* and in that close order to receive the enemy’s charge. Cnesar condemned this measure, as not only tending to lessen the vigour of the blows, which is always greatest in the assailants, but also to damp the fire and spirits of the men; whereas those who ad¬ vance with impetuosity, and animate each other with shouts, are filled with an enthusiastic valour and superior ardour. Caesar’s army consisted of twenty-two thousand men, and Pompey’s was something more than twice that number. When the signal was given on both sides, and the trumpets sounded a charge, each common man attended only to his own concern. But some of the principal Romans and Greeks, who only stood and looked on when the dreadful moment of action approach¬ ed, could not help considering to what the avarice and ambi¬ tion of two men had brought the Roman empire. The same arms on both sides, the troops marshalled in the same manner iar, he posted himself on the right, over against Pompey, that he might have him always in sight. * Vide Cses. uhi supra. This, however, must be said in excuse for Pompey, that generals of great fiom and experience have sometimes done as he did. HI-2F 226 POMPKY. Ihe same standards; in short, the strength and flower of one and the same city turned upon itself! What could be a strong¬ er proof of the blindness and infatuation of human nature wnen carried away by its passions? Had they been willing to enjoy the fruits of their labours in peace and tranquillity, the greatest and best part of the world was their own. Or, if they nust have indulged their thirst of victories and triumphs, the Farthians and Germans were yet to be subdued; Scythia and India yet remained; together with a very plausible colour for die lust of new acquisitions, the pretence of civilizing barba- . ians. And what Scythian horse, what Parthian arrows, what Indian treasures, could have resisted seventy thousand Ro¬ mans, led on by Pompey and Caesar, with whose names those nations had long been acquainted? into such a variety of wild and savage countries had these two generals carried their vic¬ torious arms! Whereas now they stood threatening each other with destruction; not sparing even their own glory, though to it they sacrificed their country, but prepared, one of them, to lose the reputation of being invincible, which hitherto they liad both maintained. So that the alliance which they had contracted by Pompey’s marriage to Julia, was from the first only an artful expedient; and her charms were to form a self- interested compact, instead of being the pledge of a sincere friendship. The plain of Pharsalia was now covered with men, and horses, and arms; and the signal of battle being given on both sides, the first on Caesar’s side who advanced to the charge was Gains Crastinus,^ who commanded a corps of a hundred and twenty men, and was determined to make good his pro¬ mise to his general. He was the first man Caesar saw w^hen he went out of the trenches in the morning; and upon Caesar’s asking him what he thought of the battle, he stretched out his hand, and answered in a cheerful tone,—^^You will gain a glorious victory, and I shall have your praise this day, either alive or dead.” In pursuance of this promise, he advanced the foremost, and many following to support him, he charged in the midst of the enemy. They soon took to their swmrds, and numbers were slain; but as Crastinus was making his way forward, and cutting down all before him, one of Pom- pey’s men stood to receive him, and pushed his swmrd in at Ins mouth with such force that it went through the nape of his neck. Crastinus thus killed, the fight w’as maintained with equal advantage on both sides. Pompey did not immediately bring on his right wing, but * So Caesar calls him. His name in Plutarch is Cras^ianus, in Crasslnus. POMPEY. 227 often directed his eyes to the left, cind lost time in waiting to see what execution his cavalry would do there. Meanwhile, they had extended their squadrons to surround Caesar, and prep ired to drive the few horse he had placed in front back upon the foot. At that instant Caesar gave the signal; upon which his cavalry retreated a little;^ and the six cohorts, which consisted of three thousand men, and had been placed behind the tenth legion, advanced to surround Pompey’s cavalry; and coming close up to them, raised the points of their jave lins, as they had been taught, and aimed them at the lace.t Their adversaries, who were not experienced in any kind of fighting, and had not the least previous idea of this, could not parry or endure the blows on their faces, but turned their Lacks, or covered their eyes with their hands, and soon fled with great dishonour. Caesar’s men took no care to pursue them, but turned their force on the enemy’s infantry, par ticularly upon that wing which, now stripped of its horse, lay open to the attack upon all sides. The six cohorts, therefore, took them in flank, while the tenth legion charged them in front; and they who had hoped to surround the enemy, and now, instead of that, saw themselves surrounded, made but a short resistance, and then took to a precipitate flight. By the great dust that was raised, Pompey conjectured the fate of his cavalry; and it is hard to say what passed in his mind at that moment. He appeared like a man moon-struck and distracted; and without considering that he was Pompey the Great, or speaking to any one, he quitted the ranks, and retired step by step towards his camp;—a scene which can not be better painted than in these verses of Homer: J But partial Jove, espousing* Hector’s part, Shot heav’n-bred horror through the Grecian’s hearty Confus’d, unnerv’d in Hector’s presence grown, Amaz’d he stood, with terrors not his own. O’er his broad back his moony shield he threw, And glaring round by tardy steps withdrew. Pope. In this condition he entered his tent, where he sat down, and uttered not a word, till at last, upon finding that some of * Aiit iTriTtnxy/uiVdit aTruput Trpos ruv KUKXcuaiv otvcTjCi?, uraLv- tsc 'TroKt/utac. Amiot and Dacier translate this passage as we have done; though with a comma after KVKheeo'tv, it may possibly bear the sense which the Latin and the former English translator have given it; namely, that they were placed there to prevent the tenth legion from being surrounded; but that does not ap pear to be a natural construct! )n. Miles, feri faciem. t In the eleventh book of the Iliad, where he is speaking of the flight of Ajax before Hector. 228 POMPEY. the enemy entered the camp with the fugitives, he said,— What! into my camp too!’’ After this short exclamation, he rose up, and dressing himself in a manner suitable to his for¬ tune, privately withdrew.^ All the other legions fled; and a great slaughter was made in the camp, of the servants and others who had the care of the tents. But Asinius Polio, who then fought on Caesar’s side, assures us, that of the regular troops there were not above six thousand men killed.! Upon the taking of the camp, there was a spectacle vliich showed in strong colours, the vanity and folly of Pom])ey’s troops. Ail the tents were crowned with myrtle; the beds were strewed with flowers; the tables covered wuth cups, and bowls of wine set out. In short, every thing had the appear¬ ance of preparations for feasts and sacrifices, rather than for men going out to battle. To such a degree had their vain hopes corrupted them, and with such a senseless confidence they took the field! When Pompey had got at a little distance from the camp, he quitted his horse. He had very few people about him; and, as he saw he was not pursued, he went softly on, wrapt up in such thoughts as we may suppose a man to have, who had been used for thirty-four years to conquer and carry all before him, and now in his old age first came to know what it was to be defeated and to fly. We may easily conjecture what his thoughts must be, when in one short hour he had lost the glory and the power which had been growing up amidst so many wars and conflicts; and he who was lately guarded with such armies of horse and foot, and such great and powerful fleets, was reduced to so mean and contemptible an equipage, that his enemies, who were in search of him, could not Iknow him. * Cnesar tells us, tliatthe cohorts appointed to defend the camp made a vig-oroLis resistance; but beingat leng'th overpowered, fled to a neig'hbouring mountain, where he resolved to invest them. But before he had finished his lines, want of water obliged them to abandon that post, and retire to¬ wards Larissa. Caesar pursued tlie fugitives at tlie head of four legions, (not of the fourth legion, as the authors of the Universal History erroneous¬ ly say,) and after six miles march came up with them. But they not daring to engage troops flushed with victory, fled for refuge to a high hill, the foot of which was watered by a little river. Though Csesar’s men were quite spent, and ready to faint v/ith the excessive heat and the fatigue of the wdiole day, yet, by his obliging manner, lie prevailed upon them to cut off the conveniency of the water from the enemy by a trench. Hereupon the unfortunate fugitives came to a capitulation, threw dowui their arms, and implored the clemency of the conqueror. This they all did, except some senators, who, as it was now night, escaped in the dark. Vide Caes. Bell. Civil, liv. iii. c. 80 . • Csesar says, that in all there w'ere fifteen thousand killed, and tw'enty- four ihousand taken prisoners. POMPEY. 229 ^ He passed by Larissa, and came lo Tempe, where, burning with thirst, he threw himself upon his face, and drank out of the river; after which he passed through the valley, and went down to the sea-coast. There he spent the remainder of the night in a poor fisherman’s cabin. Next morning, about break of day, he went on board a small river boat, taking with him such of his company as were freemen. The slaves he dis¬ missed, bidding them go to Caesar, and fear nothing. As he was coasting along, he saw a ship of burden just ready to sail, tbe master of which was Peticius, a Roman citizen, who, though not acquainted with Pompey, knew him by sight. It happened that this man, the night before, dreamed he saw Pompey come and talk to him, not in the figure he had for¬ merly known him,bufin mean and melancholy circumstances. He was giving the passengers an account of his dream, as per¬ sons, who have a great deal of time upon their hands, love to discourse about such matters; when, on a sudden, one of the mariners told him, he saw a little boat rowing up to him from the land, and the crew making signs, by shaking their gar¬ ments, and stretching out their hands. Upon this Peticius stood up, and could distinguish Pompey among them, in the same form as he had seen him in his dream. Then beating his head for sorrow, he ordered the seamen to let down the ship’s boat, and held out his hand to Pompey to invite him on ooard: for, by his dress, he perceived his change of fortune. Therefore, without waiting for any farther application, he took him up, and such of his companions as he thought proper, and then hoisted sail. The persons Pompey took with him were the two Lentuli and Favonius; and a little after, they saw king Deiotarus beckoning to them with great earnestness from the shore, and took him up likewise. The master of the ship provided them the best supper he could; and when it was almost ready, Pompey, for want of a servant, was going to wash himself, but Favonius seeing it, stepped up, and both washed and anointed him. All the time he was on board, he continued to wait upon him in all the offices of a servant, even to the washing of his feet and providing his supper; insomuch, that one who saw the unaffected simplicity and sincere attach¬ ment with which Favonius performed these offices, cried out, -The g’enerous mind adds digriity To every act, and nothing* misbecomes it. Pompey, in the course of his voyage, sailed by Amphipolis, and from thence steered for JMitylene, to take up Cornelia ancl his son. As soon as he reached the island, he sent a messen¬ ger to the town, with news far different from what Cornelia VoL. III. 20 230 POMPEY. expected. For, by the flattering accounts which many officious persons had given her, she understood that the dispute was decided at Dyrrhachium; and that nothing but the pursuit of Csesar rtimained to be attended to. The messenger finding her possessed with such hopes, had not power to make the usual salutations; but expressing the greatness of Pompey’s misfortunes by his tears rather than words, only told her,— She must make haste, if she had a mind to see Pompey with one ship only, and that not his own.’^ At this news Cornelia threw herself upon the groum!^ Cv^^iere she lay a longtime insensible and speechless. At last, coming to herself, she perceived there was no time to be lost in tears and lamentations, and, therefore, hastened through the town to the sea. Pompey ran to meet her, and received her to his arms a.* she was just going to fall. While she hung upon his neck, she thus addressed him:—“ I see, my dear husband, your present unhappy condition is the effect of my ill fortune, and not yours. Alas! how are you reduced to one poor vessel, who, before your marriage with Cornelia, traversed this sea with five hundred galleys? Why did you come to see me, and rather leave me to my evil destiny, who have loaded you too with such a weight of calamities? How happy had it been for me to have died before I heard that Publius, my first hus¬ band, was killed by the Parthians; How wise, had 1 followed him to the grave, as I once intended? What have I lived for since, but to bring misfortunes upon Pompey the Great?’^^ Such, we are assured, was the speech of Cornelia; and Pompey answered:—Till this moment, Cornelia, you have experienced nothing but the smiles of fortune; and it was she who deceived you, because she staid with me longer than she commonly does with her favourites. But, fated as we are, we must bear this reverse, and make another trial of her; for it is no more improbable, that we may emerge from this poor condition, and rise to great things again, than it was that we should fall from great things into this poor condition.’’ Cornelia then sent to the city for her most valuable mo vea- l)les, and her servants. The people of Mitylene came to pay their respects to Pompey, and to invite him to their city. But he refused to go, and bade them surrender themselves to the * Cornelia is represented by Lucan, too, as imputing* the misfortunes of Pompey to her alliance with him; and it seems, from one part of her speech on this occasion, that she should have been g*iven to C?esar:— O utinam thalamos invisi Csesaris issem! [f there were any thing in this, it might have been a material cause of the quarrel between Csesar and Pompey, as the latter, by means of this alliance, must have strengthened himself with the Crassian interest: for Cornelia way relict of Pu'.^lius C^assus, the son of Marcus Crassus. POMPEY. 231 conqueror without fear;—For Csesar/^ he told them, ^^had great clemency.’^ After this he turned to Cratippus the phi¬ losopher, who was come from the town to see him, and began to complain a, little of Providence, and express some doutta concerning it. Cratippus made some concessions, and, turning the discourse, encouraged him to hope better things, that he might not give him pain, by an unseasonable opposition to his arguments; else he might have answered his objections against Providence, by showing, that the state, and indeed the consti¬ tution was in such disorder, that it was necessary it should be changed into a monarchy. Or this one question would have silenced him,—How do we know, Pompey, that if you had conquered, you would have made a better use of your good fortune than Caesar?’’ But we must leave the determinations of heaven to its superior wisdom. As soon as his wife and his friends were embarked, he set sail, and continued his course, without touching at any port, except for water and provisions, till he came to Attalia, a city of Pamphylia. There he was joined by some Cilician galleys; and besides picking up a number of soldiers, he found in a little time sixty senators about him. When he was informed that his fleet was still entire, and that Cato was gone to Africa with a considerable body of men, which he had collected after their flight, he lamented to his friends his great error in suffer- ing himself to be forced into an engagement at land, and mak¬ ing no use of those forces in which he was confessedly strong¬ er; nor even taking care to fight near his fleet, that in case of his meeting with a check at land, he might have been suppied from sea with another army, capable of making head against the enemy. Indeed, we find no greater mistake in Pompey’s whole conduct, nor a more remarkable instance of Caesar’s ge¬ neralship, than in removing the scene of action to such a dis¬ tance from the naval forces. However, as it was necessary to undertake something with the small means he had left, he sent to some cities, and sailed to others himself, to raise money, and to get a supply of men ror his ships. But knowing the extraordinary celerity of tlie enemy’s motions, he was afraid he might be beforehand with him, and seize all that he was preparing. He, therefore, be¬ gan to think of retiring to some asylum, and proposed the matter in council. They could not think of any province in the Roman empire that would afford a safe retreat; and vv’hen they cast their eyes on the foreign kingdoms, Pompey men¬ tioned Parthia, as the most likely to receive and protect them in their present weak condition, and afterwards to send them back with a force, sufficient to retrieve their affairs. Others were of opinion, it was proper to apply to Africa, and to Jub? 232 POMPEV. m particular. But Theophanes of Lesbos observed, it was maaness to leave Egypt, which was distant but three davs’ sail Besides, Ptolemy,^ who was growing towards manhood, had particular obligations to Pompey on his father’s account: And should he go then, and put himself in the hands of the Par thians, the most perfidious people in the world? He represent¬ ed what a wrong measure it would be, if, rather than trust to the clemency of a noble Roman, who was his father-in-law, and be contented with the second place of eminence, he would venture his person with Arsaces,t by whom even Crassus would not be taken alive. He added, that ii would be ex¬ tremely absurd to carry a young woman of the family of Scipio among barbarians, who thought power consisted in the display of insolence and outrage; and where, if she escaped unviolat ed, it would be believed she did not, after she had been with those who were capable of treating her with indignity. It is said, this last consideration only prevented his marching to the Euphrates; but it is some doubt with us, whether it was not rather his fate, than his opinion, which directed his steps another way. When it was determined that they should seek for refuge in Egypt, he set sail from Cyprus with Cornelia, in a Seleucian galley. The rest accompanied him, some in ships of war, and some in merchantmen; and they made a safe voyage. Being informed that Ptolemy was with his army at Pelusium, where he was engaged in war with his sister, he proceeded thither, and sent a messenger befoie him to notify his arrival, and to entreat the king’s protection. Ptolemy was very young, and Photinus, his prime minister, called a council of his ablest officers; though their advice had no more weight than he was pleased to allow it. He ordered each, however, to gwe his opinion. But who can, without indignation, consider that the fate of Pompey the Great was to be determined by Photinus an eunuch, by Theodotus a man of Chios, who was hired to teach the prince rhetoric, and by Achillas an Egyptian? For among the king’s chamberlains and tutors, these had the greatest influence over him, and were the persons he most consulted. Pompey lay ac anchor at some distance from the place, waiting the determinanon of Uiis re spectable board; while he thought it beneatn nim to be in¬ debted to Csesar for his safety. The council were divided in This was Ptolemy Dionysius, the son of Ptolemy Auletes, who died in the vear of Rome 704, which was the year before the battle of Pharsalia He wac now in iiis fourteenth year. ■j From this passage it appears, that Arsaces was the common name of the kings of Parthia. For it was not the proper name of the king then uno'* the throne, nor of him who was at war with Crassus. POMPEY. 233 their opinions;, some advising the prince to give him an ho- ncurabie reception, and others to send him an order to de¬ part. But Theodotus, to display his eloquence, insisted that boin were wrong:—If you receive him,’^ said he, you will have Caesar for your enemy, and Pompey for your master. If you order him off, Pompey may one day revenge the affront, and Caesar resent your not having put him in his hands. The best method, therefore, is to send for him, and put him to deatn. By this means you will do Caesar a favour, and have nothing to fear from Pompey.’^ He added with a smile,— Dead men do not bite.’’ Tnis advice being approved of, the execution of it was committed to Achillas. In consequence of which, he took with him Septimius, who had formerly been one of Pompey’s officers, and Salvius, who had also acted under him as a cen¬ turion, with three or four assistants, and made up to Pompey’s ship; where his principal friends and officers had assembled to see how the affair went on. When they perceived there was nothing magnificent in their reception, nor suitable to the hopes which Theophanes had conceived, but that a few men only, in a fishing-boat, came to wait upon them, such want of respect appeared a suspicious circumstance; and they advised Pom¬ pey, while he was out of the reach of missive weapons, to get vmt to the main sea. Meantime the boat approaching, Septimius spoke first, ad¬ dressing Pompey in Latin, by the title of Imperator, Then Achillas saluted him in Greek, and desired him to come into the boat, because the water was very shallow towards the shore, and a galley must strike upon the sands. At the same time they saw several of the king’s ships getting ready, and the shore covered with troops, so that if they would have changed their minds, it was then too late; besides, their dis¬ trust would have furnished the assassins with a pretence for their injustice. He therefore embraced Cornelia, who la¬ mented his sad exit before it happened; and ordered two cen¬ turions, one of his enfranchised slaves, named Philip, and a servant called Scenes, to get into the boat before him. When Achillas had hold of his hand, and he was going to step in himself, he turned to his wife and son, and repeated that verso of Sophocles,—- Seek’st thou a tyrant’s door? then farewell, freedom! Thoug*!! free as air before.- These were the last words he spoke to them. As there was a considerable distance between the galley and the shore, and he observed that not a man in the boat showed V^oL. HI.-2 G 20"^ 234 FOMPE^. him the least civility, or even spoke to him, he looked at Sep* timius, and said,—Methinks I remember you to have been my fellow-soldier;’’ but ne answered only with a nod, with¬ out testifying any regard or friendship. A profouna silence again taking place, Pompey took out a paper, in which he had written a speech in Greek, that he designed to make to Ptole my, and amused himself with reading it. When they approached the shore, Cornelia with her frienas in the galley, watched the event with great anxiety. She was a little encouraged when she saw a number of the king’s great officers coming down to the strand, in all appearance to receive her husband, and do him honour. But the moment Pompey was taking hold of Philip’s hand to raise himself with more ease, Septimius came behind, and ran him through the body: after which, Salvius and Achillas also drew their swords. Pompey took his robe in both hands, and covered his face; and, without saying or doing the least thing unworthy of him, submitted to his fate; only uttering a groan, while they des¬ patched him with many blows. He was then just fifty-nine years old, for he was killed the day after his birth-day.^ Cornelia, and her friends in the galleys, upon seeing him murdered, gave a shriek that was heard to the shore, and weighed anchor immediately. Their flight was assisted by a brisk gale as they got out more to sea; so that the Egyptians gave up their design of pursuing them. The murderers having cut off Pompey’s head, threw the body out of the boat naked, and left it exposed to all who were desirous of such a sight. Philip staid till their curiosity was satisfied, and then washed the body with sea-water, and wrapped it in one of his own garments, because he had no¬ thing else at hand. The next thing was to look out for wood for the funeral pile; and casting his eyes over the shore, he spied the old remains of a fishing-boat, which, though not large, would make a sufficient pile for a poor naked body that was not quite entire. While he was collecting the pieces of plank, and putting them together, an old Roman, w’ho had made some of his first campaigns under Pompey, came up, and said to Philip,— Who are you that are preparing the funeral of Pompey the ▼reat?” Philip answered,—I am his freed man.”—But * Some divines, in saying* that pompey never prospered after he presum¬ ed to enter the sanctuary in the temple at Jerusalem, intimate, that his misfortunes were owing* to that profanation; but we forbear, with Plutarch, to comment upon the providential determinations of the Supreme Being. Indeed, he fell a sacrifice to as vile a set of people as he had before insult¬ ed; for, the Jews excepted, there was not upon earth a more despicable race of men than the cowardlv, cruel Egyptians. POMPEY. 235 fou shall not/’, said the old Roman, have this honour em tirely to yourself. As a work of piety offers itself, let me have a share in it; that 1 may not absolutely repent my hav¬ ing passed so many years in a foreign country; but, to compen¬ sate many misfortunes, may have the consolation of doing some of the last honours^ to the greatest general Rome ever pro¬ duced.” Ill this manner was the funeral of Pompey conducted. Next day, Lucius Lentulus, who knew nothing of what had passed, because he was upon his voyage from Cyprus, arrived upon the Egyptian shore, and as he was coasting along, saw the funeral pile, and Philip, whom he did not yet know, standing by it. Upon which he said to himself,—Who has finished his days, and is going to leave his remains upon this shore?” adding, after a short pause, with a sigh,—^^Ah! Pom¬ pey the Great! perhaps thou mayest he the man.” Lentulus soon after went on shore, and was taken and slain. Such was the end of Pompey the Great. As for Caesar, he arrived not long after in Egypt, which he found in great dis¬ order. When they came to present the head, he turned from it and the person who brought it, as a sight of horror. He received the seal, but it was with tears. The device was a lion holding a sword. The two assassins, Achillas and Pho- tinus, he put to death; and the king, being defeated in battle, perished in the river. Theodotus, the rhetorician, escaped the vengeance of Caesar by leaving Egypt; hut he wandered about a miserable fugitive, and \vas hated wherever he went. At last Marcus Brutus, who killed Caesar, found the wretch in his province of Asia, and put him to death, after having made him suffer the most exquisite tortures. The ashes of Pom¬ pey were carried to Cornelia, who buried them in his lands near Alba.t * Of toiiching* and wrapping* up the body. -j- Pompey lias, in all appearance, and in all considerations of his character had less justice done him by historians, than any other man of his time. His popular hamanity, his military and political skill, his prudence, (wliicli he sometimes unfortunately g-ave up,) his natural bravery and g-enerositv, his conjugal virtues, which (though sonietimes impeached) were both naturally and morally great; his cause, which was certanly, in its original interests, the cause of Rome; ail these circumstances entitled him to a more distin¬ guished and more respectable character than any of his historians have thought proper to afford him. One circumstance, indeed, renders the .ac¬ counts which the writers, who rose after the established monarchy, have given of his opposition, perfectly reconcileable to the prejudice which ap¬ pears against him; or rather to the reluctance which they have shown to that praise which they seemed to have felt that he deserved: When the commonwealth w.as no more, and the supporters of its interests had fallen with it, then history, itself, not to mention poetry, departed from its proper privilege of impartiality, and even Plutarch made a sacrifice to imperial power. AGESILAUS AND POMPEY COMPARED. Such is the account we had to give of the lives of tliese two great men; and, in drawing up the parallel, we shall previously take a short survey of the difference in their characters. In the first place, Pompey rose to power, and established his reputation, by just and laudable means; partly by the strengtli of his own genius, and partly by his services to Sylla, in free¬ ing Italy from various attempts of despotism; whereas Age- silaus came to the throne by methods equally immoral and ir¬ religious; for it was by accusing Leotychidas of bastardy? whom his brother had acknowledged as his legitimate son, and by eluding the oracle relative to a lame king.* In the next place, Pompey paid all due respect to Sylla during his life, and took care to see his remains honourably interred, notwithstanding the opposition it met with from Le- pidus; and afterwards he gave his daughter to Faustus, the son of Sylla. On the other hand, Agesilaus shook off Lysander upon a slight pretence, and treated him with great indignity. Yet the services Pompey received from Sylla were not greater than those he had rendered him; whereas Agesilaus was ap¬ pointed king of Sparta by Lysander’s means, and afterwards captain-general of Greece. In the third place, Pompey’s of¬ fences against the laws and the constitution were principally owing to his alliances; to his supporting either Csesar or Scipio (whose daughter he had married) in their unjust demands. Agesilaus not only gratified the passion of his son, by sparing the life of Sphodrlas, whose death ought to have atoned for the mjuries he had done the Athenians; but he likewise screened Phnebidas, who was guilty of an egregious infraction of the .eague with the Thebans, and it was visibly for the sake of his crime that he took him into his protection. In short, what¬ ever troubles Pompey brought upon the Romans, either through ignorance, or a timorous complaisance for his friends, Agesilaus Drought as great distresses upon the Spartans, through * See the life of Agesilaus. .\GES1LAUS AND POMPEY COMPARED. ZVt a spirit of obstinacy and resentment; for such was the spirit that kindled the Boeotian war. If, when we are mentioning their faults, we may take no¬ tice of tlieir fortune, the Romans could have no previous idea of that of Pompey; but the Lacedaemonians were sufficiently forewarned of the danger of a lame reign, and yet Agesllaiis would not suffer them to avail themselves of that warning.^ Nay, supposing Leotychidas a mere stranger, and as much a bastard as he was, yet the family of Eurytion could easily have supplied Sparta with a king who was neither spurious noi maimed, had not Lysander been industrious enough to render the oracle obscure for the sake of Agesilaus. As to their political talents, there never was a finer measure than that of Agesilaus, when in the distress of the Spartans how to proceed against the fugitives after the battle of Leuctra, he decreed that the laws should be silent for that day. We have nothing of Pompey’s that can possibly be compared to it. On the contrary, he thought himseli exempted from observing the laws he had made, and that his transgressing them showed his friends his superior power: whereas Agesilaus, when un¬ der a necessity of contravening the laws, to save a number of citizens, found out an expedient which saved both the laws and the criminals. I must also reckon among his political vir¬ tues, his inimitable behaviour upon the receipt of the scytale, which ordered him to leave Asia in the height of his success. For he did not, like Pompey, serve the commonwealth only in affairs which contributed to his own greatness; the good of his country was his great object, and, with a view to that, he renounced such power and so much glory, as no man had either before or after him except Alexander the Great. If we view them in another light, and consider their mili¬ tary performances, the trophies which Pompey erected were so numerous, the armies he led so powerful, and the pitched battles he won so extraordinary, that I suppose Xenophon him.self would not compare the victories of Agesilaus with them; though that historian, on account of his other excellen cies, has been indulged the peculiar privilege of saying what le pleased of his hero. There was a difference too, I think, in their behaviour to thoir enemies, in point of equity and moderation. Agesilaus * It is true the latter part of Agesilaiis's reig-ii was unfortunate; but the jnisfortunes were owing* to his malice against the Thebans, and to his fight¬ ing, (contrary to the laws of Lycurgus) the same enemy so frequently, that lie taught them to beat him at last. Nevertheless, the oracle, as we have observed in a former note, probably meant the lameness of the kingdom, in having but one king instead ot two, \nd not the lameness of the king. 238 AGESILAUS AND POMPEY COMPARED. was bene upon enslaving Thebes, and destroyed Messene; the. lormer the city from which his family sprung, the latter Spar¬ ta’s sisler colony;'^ and in the attempt he was near ruining Sparta itself. On the other hand, Pompey, after he had con¬ quered the pirates, bestowed cities on such as were willing to change their way of life; and when he might have led Tigranes, king of Armenia, captive at the wheels of his chariot, he rather chose to make him an ally; on which occasion he made use of that memorable expression ,—‘‘ I prefer the glory that will last forever to that of a day.” But if the pre-eminence in military virtue is to be decided by such actions and counsels as are most characteristical of the great and wise commander, we shall find that the Lacedjemo- nian leaves the Roman far behind. In the first place, he never abandoned his city, though it was besieged by seventy thou¬ sand men, while he had but a handful of men to oppose them with, and those lately defeated in the battle of Leuctra. But Pompey,t upon Csesar’s advancing with five thousand three hundred men only, and taking one little town in Italy, left Rome in a panic; either meanly yielding to so trifling a force, or failing in his intelligence of their real numbers. In his flight he carried ofi' his own wife and children, but he left those of the other citizens in a defenceless state; when he ought either to have staid and conquered for his country, or to have accept¬ ed such conditions as the conqueror might impose, who was both his fellow-citizen and his relation. A little while before, he thought it insupportable to prolong the term of his com¬ mission, and to grant him another consulship; and now he suf¬ fered him to take possession of the city, and to tell Metellus, —That he considered him, and all the other inhabitants, as his prisoners.” If it is the principal business of a general to know how lo bring the enemy to a battle when he is stronger, and how to avoid being compelled to one when he is weaker, Agesilaus understood that rule perfectly well, and, by observing it, con¬ tinued always invincible. But Pompey could never take Csesar at a disadvantage: on the contrary, he suffered Caesar to taKe the advantage of him, by being brought to hazard all in * For Hercules was born at Thebes, and Messene was a colony of the He- laclidse, as well as Sparta. The Latin and French translations have mistaken the sense of this passag-e. yHere is another eg-reg-ious instance of Plutarch’s prejudice ag*ainst the character of Pompey. It is certain that he left not Rome till he was well convinced of the impossibility of maintaining* it ag-ainst the arms of Caesar. For he was not only coming* against it with a force much more powerful ihun is here mentioned; but he had rendered even a siege unnec(issary, by a previous distribution of his gold amongst the citizens. AGESILAUS AND POIVIPEY COMPARED. 239 an action at land; the consequence of which was, that Ciesai became master of his treasures, his provisions, and the sea it¬ self, when he might have preserved them all, had he known how to avoid a battle. As for the apology that is made for Pompey in this case, it reflects the greatest dishonour upon a general of his experience. If a young officer had been so much dispirited and disturbed by the tumults and clamours among his troops, as to depart from his better judgment, it would have been pardonable: but for Pompey the Great, whose camp the Romans called their country, and whose tent their senate, while they gave the name of rebels and traitors to those who staid and acted as praetors and consuls in Rome; for Pompey, who had never been known to serve as a private soldier, but had made all his campaigns with the greatest reputation as general; for such a one to be forced by the scoffs of Favonius and Domitius, and the fear of being called Agamemnon, to risk the fate of the whole em¬ pire, and of liberty, upon the cast of a single die—who can near it?—If he dreaded only present infamy, he ought to have made a stand at first, and to have fought for the city of Rome; juid not, after calling his flight a manoeuvre of Themistocles, to look upon the delaying a battle in Thessaly as a dishonour. For the gods had not appointed the fields of Pharsalia as the lists in which he was to contend for the empire of Rome, nor was he summoned by a herald to make his appearance there, or otherwise forfeit the palm to another. There were innu¬ merable plains and cities, nay, his command of the sea left the whole earth to his choice, had he been determined to imitate Maximus, Marius, or Lucullus, or Agesilaus himself. Agesilaus certainly had no less tumults to encounter in Sparta, when the Thebans challenged him to come out and fight for his dominions: nor were the calumnies and slanders he met with in Egypt, from the madness of the king, less grat ing when he advised that prince to lie still for a time. Yet, by pursuing the sage measures he had first fixed upon, he not only saved the Egyptians in spite of themselves, but kept Sparta from sinking in the earthquake that threatened her; nay, he erected there the best trophy imaginable against the Thebans; for, by keeping the Spartans from their ruin, which they were so obstinately bent upon, he put it in their power to conquer afterwards. Hence it was that Agesilaus was praised by the persons whom he had saved by violence; and Pompey, who committed an error in complaisance to others, was con¬ demned by those who drew him into it. Some say, indeed, that he was deceived by his father-in-law, Scipio, who, want¬ ing to convert to his own use the treasures he had brought from Asia, had concealed them for that purpose, and hastened 240 AGESILAUS AND POMPEY COMPARED the action, under pretence that the supplies would soon tail But, supposing that true, a general should not have suffered himself to be so easily deceived, nor, in consequence of being so deceived, have hazarded the loss of all. Such are the prin¬ cipal strokes that mark their military characters. As to their voyages to Egypt, the one fled thither out of ne¬ cessity; the other, without any necessity or sufficient cause, listed himself in the service of a barbarous prince, to raise a fund for carrying on the war with the Greeks: so that, if we accuse the figyptians for their behaviour to Pompey, the Eg^vp- tians blame Agesilaus as much for his behaviour to them. "The one was betrayed by those in whom he put his trust: the other was guilty of a breach of trust, in deserting those whom he went to support. 3 ud going over to their enemies THE LIFE OF ALEXANDER. In this volume we shall give the lives of Alexander the Great, and of Caesar, who overthrew Pompey; and as the quan¬ tity of materials is so great, we shall only premise that we hope for indulgence, though we do not give the actions in full de tail, and with a scrupulous exactness, but rather in a short sum¬ mary; since we are not writing histories but lives. Nor is it always in the most distinguished achievements that men’s vir¬ tues or vices may be best discerned; but very often an action of small note, a short sa 3 dng, or a jest, shall distinguish a per¬ son’s real character more than the greatest sieges or the most important battles. Therefore, as painters in their portraits labour the likeness in the face, and particularly about the eyes, in which the peculiar turn of mind most appears, and run over the rest with a more careless hand; so w^e must be permitted to strike off the features of the soul, in order to give a real likeness of these great men, and leave to others the circurn stantial detail of their labours and achievements. It is allowed as certain, that Alexander was a descendant of Hercules by Caranus,^ and of ^acus by Neoptolemi.s. His father Philip is said to have been initiated, when very young, along with Ol^^mpias, in the mysteries at Samothrace; and having conceived an affection for her, he obtained her in mar¬ riage of her brother Arymbas, to whom he applied, because she was left an orphan. The night before the consummation of the marriage, she dreamed that a thunderbolt fell upon her belly, which kindled a great fire, and that the flame extended itself far and wide before it disappeared. And some time after the marriage, Philip dreamed that he sealed up the queen’s womb with a seal, the impression of which he thought w^as a lion. Most of the interpreters believed the dream announced some # • Ciiranus, the sixteenth in descent from Hercules, made himself maslci of Macetlonia i>i the year before Christ 1794; and Alexander tlie Great wai the twenty-second in descent from Caranus; so that from Hercules to Alex ander there were thirty-eig-ht generations. Tlie descent by his motlier’s side is not so clear, there being many degrees wanting in it. It is sufficient to know that Olympias was the daughter of Neoptolemus, ai:d sister to Arymbas. VoL. III.——2H 21 242 ALEXANDER. reason to doubt the honour of Olympias, and that Philip ou^ht to look more closely to her conduct. But Aristander of Tel- mesus, said, it only denoted that the queen was pregnant; for a seal was never put upon any thing tliat was empty; and that the child would prove a boy of a bold and lion-like courage. A serpent was also seen lying by Olympias asshe slept; which is said to have cooled Philip’s affections for her more than any thing, insomuch that he seldom repaired to her bed afterwards; whether it was that he feai'cd some enchantment from her, or abstained from her embraces, because he thought them taken up by some superior being. Some, indeed, relate the affair in another manner'. They tell us. that the women of this country were of old extr'emelv fond of the ceremonies of Orpheus and the orgies of Bacchus; and that they were called Clodones and Mimallones^ because in many things they imitated the Edonian and Thracian women about Mount Heemus; from whom the Greek word threscuein seems to be derived, which signifies the exercise of extrava¬ gant and superstitious observances. Olympias being remark¬ ably ambitious of these inspirations, and desii'ous of giving the enthusiastic solemnities a mor'e strange and horrid appear¬ ance, introduced a number of lar'ge tame ser'pents, which often creeping out of the ivy and the mystic fans, and entwining about the thyrsuses and gardands of the women, struck the spec¬ tators with terror. Philip, however, upon this appearance,^ sent Chiron of Me galopolis to consult the oracle at Delphi; and we are told, Apollo commanded him to sacrifice to Jupiter Ammon, and to pay his homage principally to that god. It is also said, he lost one of his eyes, which was that he applied to the chink of the door, when he saw the god in his wife’s embraces, in the form of a serpent. According to Eratosthenes, Olympias, when she conducted Alexander on his way in the first expedi¬ tion, privately discovered to him the secret of his birth, and exhorted him to behave with a dignity suitable to his divine extraction. Others affirm that she absolutely rejected it as an impious fiction, and used to say,—“Will Alexander neve? /cave embroiling me with Juno?” Alexander! was born on the sixth of Hecatombseonf (July), * We do not think the word relates to the dream, lut to the ap pearing of the serpent. -[-In the first year of the hundred and sixth Olympiad, before Christ 354. t jElian (^Var. Hist. 1. ii. c. 25,) says expressly, that Alexander was born and died in the sixth day of the month Thargelion. But supposing Plutarch riglit in placing lijs birth in the month Hecatombecon, yet not tliat month, hut Boedromion, then answered to the Macedonian month Lbus; as appears clearly from a letter of Philip’s, still preserved in the orations of Demos- ALEXANDER. 243 which the Macedonians call Lbus^ the same day that Ihe tem¬ ple of Diana at Ephesus was burnt; upon which Hegesias the Mascnesian has uttered a conceit friscid enouo;h to have extin- guished the flames:—It is no wonder/^ said he, that the temple of Diana was burnt, when she was. at a distance em¬ ployed in bringing Alexander into the world.All the magi^ who were then at Ephesus, looked upon the fire as a sign which betokened a much greater misfortune: they ran about the town, beating their faces, and crying,—That day had brought forth the great scourge and destroyer of Asia.^’ Philip had just taken the city of Potidaea,^ and three mes¬ sengers arrived the same day with extraordinary tidings. The first informed him that Parmenio had gained a great battle against the Illyrians; the second, that his race-horse had won the prize at the Olympic games; and the third, that Olympias \vas brought to bed of Alexander. His joy, on that occasion, was great, as might naturally be expected; and the soothsayers increased it by assuring him that his son, who was born in the midst of three victories, must of course prove invincible. The statues of Alexander that most resemble him, were those of Lysippus, who alone had his permission to represent him in marble. The turn of his head, which leaned a little to one side, and the quickness of his eye, in w^hich many of his friends and successors most affected to imitate him, were best hit off by that artist. Apelles painted him in the character of Jupiter armed with thunder, but did not succeed as to his com¬ plexion. He overcharged the colouring, and made his skin too brown; whereas he was fair, with a tinge of red in his face and upon his breast. We read in the memoirs of Aristoxe- nus, that a most agreeable scent proceeded from his skin; and that his breath and whole body were so fragrant, that they per¬ fumed his under-garments. The cause of this might possibly be his hot temperament. For, as Theophrastus conjectures, it IS the concoction of moisture by heat which produces sweet odours; and hence it is that those countries which are driest and most parched with heat, produce spices of the best kind^ and in the greatest quantity; the sun exhaling from the surface of bodies that moisture which is the instrument of corruption. It seems to have been the same heat of constitution which thenes, (in Oral, de Corona.). In after times, indeed, the montli Lous an swered to Hecatombseon, which, without doubt, was the cause of Plutarch’s mistake. * This is another mistake. Potidrxa was taken two years before, viz. in the third year of the hundred and third Olympiad; for which we have again the authority of Dem.osthenes, who was Philip’s contemporary, O’w rjcmt. heptintm)^ as well as Diodorus Siculus, 1. XA'i. 244 ALEXANDER made Alexander so much inclined to drink, and so suhiect to passion. llis continence showed itself at an early period. For though he was vigorous, or rather violent in Ids other pur¬ suits, he was not ^easily moved by the pleasures of the body: and if he tasted them, it was with great moderation. But there was something superlatively great and sublime in his ambition, far above his years. It was not all sorts of honour that he courted, nor did he seek it in every track, like his father Philip, who was as proud of his eloquence as any so¬ phist could be, and who had the vanity to record his victories in the Olympic chariot-race in the impression of his coins. Alexander, on the other hand, when he was asked by some of the people about him,—Whether he would not run in the: Olympic race?’^ (for he was swift of foot,) answered,—Yes. if I had kings for my antagonists.^^ It appears that he had a perfect aversion to the whole exercise oi wrestling.^ For, though he exhibited many other sorts of games and public di¬ versions, in which he proposed prizes for tragic poets, for musi¬ cians who practised upon the flute and lyre, and for rhapsodists too; though he entertained the people with the hunting of all manner of wild beasts, and with fencing or fighting with the staff, yet he gave no encouragement to boxing or to the Pan¬ cratium A Ambassadors from Persia happened to arrive in the absence of his father Philip, and Alexander receiving them in his stead, gained upon them greatly by his yjoliteness and solid sense. He asked them no childish or trifling question, but inquired the distances of places, and the roads through the upper pro¬ vinces of Asia: he desired to be informed of the character of their king, in what manner he be haved to his enemies, and in what the strength and power of Persia consisted. The am¬ bassadors were struck with admiration, and looked upon the celebrated shrewdness of Philip as nothing in comparison of the lofty and enterprising genius of his son. Accordingly, whenever news was brought that Philip had taken some strong town, or won some great battle, the young man, instead of appearing delighted with it, used to say to his companions,— My father will go on conquering, till there be nothing ex¬ traordinary left for you and me to do.^’ As neither pleasure nor riches, but valour and glory, were his great objects, he thought that, in proportion as the dominions he was to receive * Philopoemen, like him, had an aversion for wrestling*, because all the exercises which fit a man to excel in it make him unfit for war. 't' If it be asked how this shows that Alexander did not love wrestling, tlu answer is, the Pancratium was a mixture of boxing* and wrestling. ALEXANDER. 243 ftoin his father grew greater, there would be less room for him to distinguish himself. Every new acquisition of territory he consilered as a dimini.tion of his scene of action; for he did not desire to inherit a kingdom that would bring him opu¬ lence, luxury, and pleasure, but one that would afford him wars, conflicts, and all the exercise of great ambition. He had a number of tutors and preceptors. Leonidas, a relation of the queen’s, and a man of great severity of man tiers, was at the head of them. He did not like the name of preceptor, though the employment was important and honour¬ able: and, indeed, his dignity and alliance to the royal family gav^e him the title of the prince’s governor. He who had both tlui name and business of preceptor was Lysimachus the Acar- nanian; a man who had neither merit nor politeness, nor any thing to recommend him, but bis calling himself Phoenix; Alexander, Achilles; and Philip, Peleus. This procured him some attention, and the second place about the prince’s person. When Philonicus the Thessalian offered the horse named Bucephalus in sale to Philip, at the price of thirteen talents, the king, with the prince, and many others, went into the field to see some trial made of him. The horse appeared extreme¬ ly vicious and unmanageable, and was so far from suffering himself to be mounted, that he would not bear to be spoken to, but turned fiercely upon all the grooms. Philip was dis¬ pleased at their bringing him so wild and ungovernable a horse, and bade them take him away. But Alexander, who had ob¬ served him well, said,—What a horse are they losing for want of skill and spirit to manage him!” Philip at first took no notice of this; but, upon the prince’s often repeating the same expression, and showing great uneasiness, he said,— “ Young man, you find fault with your elders, as if you knew more than they, or could manage the horse better.” And 1 certainly could,” answered the prince. If you should not be able to ride him, what forfeiture will you submit to for your rashness?” ‘‘ I will pay the price of the horse.” L^pon this all the company laughed, but the king and prince agreeing as to the forfeiture, Alexander ran to the horse, and laying hold on the bridle, turned him to the sun; for he had ob¬ served, it seems, that the shadow which fell before the horse, * That is, 2518/. 15,9. sterling'. This will appear a moderate price com¬ pared with what we find in Varro, {De lie Rustic, lib. iii. c. 2,) viz. that Q. Axius, a senator, g'ave four hundred thousand sesterces for an ass: and still more moderate when compared with the account of Tavernier, that some horses in Arabia were valued at a hundred thousand crowns. Pliny, in his Natural History, says, the price of Ilucephalus was sixteen talents:— Sedccim talentisferunf ex Phiknici Pharsaliig^'Cge emptum. — Hist Nat. lib. viii. c. 42. 21^ 246 ALEXANDER. - and c^’aVinually moved as he moved, greatly flistuibed Inm. While his fierceness and fury lasted, he kept speaking to him softly, and stroking him; after which he gently let hill hh mantle, leaped lightly upon his back, and got his seat ver} safe. Then, without pulling the reins too hard, or using ei¬ ther whip or spur, he set him agoing. As soon as he perceiv¬ ed nis uneasiness abated, and that he wanted only to run, he put him in a full gallop, and pushed him on both with the voice and the spur. Philip and all his court were in great distress for him at first, and a.profound silence took place. But when the prince had turned him and brought him straight back, they all received him with loud acclamations, except his father, who wept for joy, and kissing him, said,—Seek another kingdom, my son, lhat may be worthy of thy abilities; for Macedonia is too small for thee.^’ Perceiving that he did not easily submit to authority, because he would not be forced to any thing, but that he might be led to his duty by the gentler hand of reason, he took the method of persuasion rather than of command. He saw that his education was a matter of too great impor¬ tance to be trusted to the ordinary masters in music, and the common circle of sciences; and that his genius (to use the ex pression of Sophocles) required The rudder’s guidance, and the curb’s restraint. He, therefore, sent for Aristotle, the most celebrated and learned of all the philosophers; and the reward he gave him for forming his son was not only honourable, but remarkable for its propriety. He had formerly dismantled the city of Stagira, where that philosopher was born, and now he rebuilt it, and re-established the inhabitants, who had either fled or been reduced to slavery.’^ He also prepared a lawn, called Mieza, for their studies and literary conversations; where they still show us Aristotle’s stone-seats and shady walks. Alexander gained from him not only moral and political knowledge, but was also instructed in those more secret and profound branches of science, which they call acroamatic and epoptiCj and which they did not communicate to every common scholar.!' For when Alexander was in Asia, and received in¬ formation that Aristotle had published some books in whicl those points were discussed, he wrote him a letter in beiial) * Pliny the elder and Valerius Maximus tell us, that Stagira was rebuilt bv Alexander, and this when Aristotle was very old. •f The scholars in general, were instructed only in the exoteric doctrines V^ide Jlul. Gell. lib. xx. cap. 5. ALr.XANDER. 24 ? of phi]o50pTi}% in which he blamed the course he had taken. The ibUowing is a copy of it:— Alexaiider to Aristotle, prosperity. You did wrong iu publisiiiiig die acroantuik parts of science.^ In what shfdl we differ from others, if the sublimer knowledge whi'di we gained from you be made cornmon to all tliC world? For my part, 1 had rather excel the bulk of mankind in the superior parts of learning, than in the extent of power and dominion. Fare- ‘well.’' Aristotle, in compliment to this ambition of his, and by way of excuse for himself, made answer, that those points were ])ublished and not published.” In fact, his book of metaphy¬ sics is written in such a manner, that no one can learn that branch of science from it, much less teach it others: it serves only to refresh the memories of those who have been taught by a master. It apjiears also to me, that it was by Aristotle rather than any Cfther person, that Alexander was assisted in the study of physic; for he not only loved tiie theory, hut the practice too, as is clear from his epistles, w^here we find that he prescribed to his friends medicines and a proper regim,en. He loved polite learning too; and his natural thirst of know¬ ledge made him a man of extensive reading. The Iliad, he thought, as well as called, a portable treasure of military kneewledge: and he had a copy corrected by Aristotle, which is called the casket cxpyA Onesicritus informs us that he used to lay it under his pillow with his sword. As he could not find m'dny other books in the upper provinces of Asia, he wrote to Harpaius fora supply; who sent him the works of Philistus, most of tiic tragedies of Euripides, Sophocles, and ^schylus, and the Dithyrambics of TelestusJ and Philoxenus. Aristolie was the man he admired in his younger years; and, as he said himself, he had no less affection for bin? than for his own father:—From the one he derived the blessiniz: of life, from the other the blessing of a good life.” But al’ter- wards he looked upon him with an eye of suspicion. He never, Poct.rines taiisrht bv private cornmiinication, and delivered viva vorc. •j- He kept it in a rich cask et found •among’ the spoils of Darius. A coiTcct CO]>y of this edition, revised by Aristotle, Callisthenes, and Anaxarebns, was published after the death of Alexander. “ Darius,” said Alexander, •used to keep his ointments in this casket; but T, who have no time to anoint myself, convert it to a nobler use.” t I'elestus was a poet of some rejuitation, and a monument was erected to his meinoiy by Aristratus the Sicyonian tyrant. Protog'cnes was f-entfor to paint ttiis monument, and not arriving- within the limited time, was in dan¬ ger of the tyrant’s displeasure, but the celerity and excellence of his exe* cution saved hirni. Philoxenus was his sciiolar. Philistus was an historian often cited by Plutarch. 248 ALEXANDER. indeed, did the philosopher any harm; but the teslimonier^ of his regard being neither so extraordinary nor so endearins: as before, discovered something of a coldness. However, his love of philosophy, which he was either born with, or at least conceived at an early period, never quitted his soul; as ap¬ pears from the honours he paid Anaxarchus, the fifty talents he sent Xenocrates,^ and his attentions to Dandamis and Calanus. When Philip went upon his expedition against Byzantium, Alexander was only sixteen years of age; yet he was left re¬ gent of Macedonia, and keeper of the seal. The Medarit re¬ belling during his regency, he attacked and overthrew them, took their city, expelled the barbarians, planted there a colony of people collected from various parts, and gave it the name of Alexandropolis. He fought in the battle of Chaeronea against the Greeks, and is said to have been the first man that broke the sacred band of Thebans. In our times an old oak was showm near the Cephisus, called Alexander's oak^ because his tent had been pitched under it; and a piece of ground, at no groat distance, in which the Macedonians had buried their dead. This early display of great talents made Philip very fond of his son, so that it was with pleasure he heard the Macedonians call Alexander king^ and him only general. But the troubles which his new" marriage and his amours caused in his family, and the bickerings among the women dividing the whole king¬ dom into parties, involved him in many quarrels with his son: all which were heightened by Olympias, who, being a woman of a jealous and vindictive temper, inspired Alexander with unfavourable sentiments of his father. The misunderstanding broke out into a flame on the following occasion. Philip fell in love with a young lady named Cleopatra, at an unseasona¬ ble time of life, and married her. When they were celebi*ating the nuptials, her uncle. Attains, intoxicated with liquor, de¬ sired the Macedonians to entreat the gods that this marr:age of Philip and Cleopatra might produce a lawful heir to the crown. Alexander, provoked at this, said ,—‘‘ What, then, dost thou take me for a bastard?’^ and at the same time he ilirew his cup at his head. Hereupon Philip rose up and dievv his sword; but, fortunately for them both, his passion, and the wine he had drunk, made him stumble, and he fell. Alexan- • The philosopher took but a small part of this money, and sent the rest back; telling* the giver he had more occasion for it himself, because he haa more oeopie to maintain. tWe know of no such peonle as the Medarl; but a people called Maedj there was in Thrace, who, as Livy tells us, (1. xxvi.) used to make inroadi L to Macedonia. ALEXANDER. iM9 ner, taking an'insolent advantage of this circumstance, said, — Men of Macedon, see there the man who was preparing tc pass from Europe into Asia! he is not able to pass irom one table to another without falling. After this insult, he carried off Olympias, and placed her in Epirus. Illyricum was the country he pitched upon for his own retreat. Ill the meantime, Demaratus, who had engagements ot hos pitality with the royal family of Macedon, and who, on that account, could speak his mind freely, came to pay Philip a visit. After the first civilities, Philip asked him,—What sort of agreement subsisted among the Greeks?’^ Demaratus answered,—There is doubtless much propriety in your in¬ quiring after the harmony of Greece, who hath filled your own house with so much discord and disorder.’’ This reproot brought Philip to himself, and, through the mediation of Da- maratus, he prevailed with Alexander to return. But another event soon disturbed their repose. Pexodorus, the Persian governor in Caria, being desirous to draw Philip into a league offensive and defensive, by means of an alliance between their families, offered his eldest daughter in marriage to Aridicus, the son of Philip, and sent Aristocritus into Ma¬ cedonia to treat about it. Alexander’s friends and his mother now infused notions into him again, though perfectly ground¬ less, that, by so noble a match, and the support consequeni upon it, Philip designed the crown for Aridaeus. Alexander, in the uneasiness these suspicions gave him, sent one Thessalus, a player, into Caria, to desire the grandee to pass by Aridxus, who was of spurious birth, and deficient in point of understanding, and to take the lawful heir to the crown into his alliance. Pexodorus was infinitely more pleas¬ ed with this proposal. But Philip no sooner had intelligence of it than he went to Alexander’s apartment, taking along with him Philotas the son of Parmenio, one of his most intimate friends and companions, and, in his presence, reproached him with his degeneracy and meanness of spirit, in thinking of being son-in-law to a man in Caria, one of the slaves of a bar¬ barian king. At the same time he wrote to the Corinthians,^ insisting that they should send Thessalus to him in chains, llarpalus and Niarchus, Plirygius and Ptclemv, some of the other companions of the prince he l:)anished. But Alexander afterwards recalled them, and treated thcaii with great dis¬ tinction. Some time after the Carian negotiatior.', Pausanias being abused by order of Attalus and Cleopatra, and not having jus" * Thessalus, upon his return from Asia, must have retired to Corinth; foi tl\e Corinthians had nothing* to do in Caria. VoL. III. - 2 T 250 ALEXANDER. Mce (lone him for tlie outrage, kille(i Philip, who refused thaA iustice. Olympias was thought to have been principally con ceriKid in inciting the young man to that act of revenge; but ^Alexander did not escape uncensured. It is said that when Pausanias applied to him, after having been so dishonoured, and lamented his misfortune, Alexander, by way of ansAver, repeated that line in the tragedy of Medea,t— The bridal father, bridegroom, and the bride. It must be acknowledged, however, that he caused diligem search to be made after the persons concerned in the assassina¬ tion, and took care to have them punished; and he expressed his indignation at Olympias’s cruel treatment of Cleopatra in his absence. He Avas only tAventy years old Avhen he succeeded to the crown, and he found the kingdom torn in pieces by dangerous parties and implacable animosities. The barbarous nations, “ven those that bordered upon Macedonia, could not brook subjection, and they longed for their natural kings. Philip had subdued Greece by his victorious arms, but not having had time to accustom her to the yoke, he had throAvn matters into confusion, rather than produced any firm settlement, and he left the Avhole in a tumultuous state. The young king’s Macedonian counsellors, alarmed at the troubles Avhich threat¬ ened him, advised him to giA^e up Greece entirely, or at least to make no attempts upon it Avith the sword; and to recall the wavering barbarians in a mild manner to their duty, by apply¬ ing healing measures to the beginning of the revolt. Alex¬ ander, on the contrary, Avas of opinion, that the only Avay to security, and a thorough establishment of his affairs, Avas tc> proceed Avith spirit and magnanimity. For he AA^as persuaded, that if he appeared to abate of his dignity in the least article, he Avould be universally insulted. He, therefore, quieted the commotions, and put a stop to the rising Avars among the bar¬ barians, by marching Avith the utmost expedition as far as the f- This is the 288tli verse of the Medea of Euripides. To giA’e the con¬ text, Creon says, Kwa (T’ cLTriiKuv, a'; ctTrciyytKKitfft /uot, Tov ^OVTCt, Kctt y'JLUCVTdL, H'JLl ^cta-iiv 'Cl - The persons meant in the tragedy were Jason, Creiisa, and Creon; and in Alexander’s application of it, Philip is the bridegi’oom, Cleopatra the bride^ and Attains the father. Cleopatra, the niece of Attains, is by Arrian called Eurydice, i. ii. c. 14 ALEXANDER. 25 i Danube, v/herd he fought a great battle with Syrmus, king ol the Triballi, and defeated him. Some time after this, having intelligence lliat the Thebans had revolted, and that the Athenians had adopted the same sentiments, he resolved to show them he was no longer a boy, and advanced immediately through the pass of Thermopylae! Demosthenes,’’ said he, called me a boy while I was in Illyricum, and among the Triballi, and a stripling when in Thessaly; but I will show him before the walls of Athens that ( am a man.” When he made his appearance before Thebes, he was will¬ ing to give the inhabitants time to change their sentiments, He only demanded Phoenix and Prothytes, the first promoters of the revolt, and proclaimed an amnesty to all the rest. But the Thebans, in their turn, demanded that he should deliver ap to them Philotas and Antipater, and invited, by sound of trumpet, all men to join them who chose to assist in recover¬ ing the liberty of Greece. Alexander then gave the reins to the Macedonians, and the war began with great fury. The Thebans, who had the combat to maintain against forces vastly superior in number, behaved with a courage and ardoui far above their strength. But when the Macedonian garrison fell down from the Cadmea, and charged them in the rear, they were surrounded on all sides, and most of them cut in pieces. The city was taken, plundered, and levelled with the ground. Alexander expected that the rest of Greece, astonished and .ntimidated by so dreadful a punishment of the Thebans, would submit in silence. Yet he found a more plausible pretence for his severity; giving out that his late proceedings were intend¬ ed to gratify his allies, being adopted in pursuance of com¬ plaints made against Thebes by the people of Phocis and Pla- 2aea. He exempted the priests, all that the Macedonians were bound to by the ties of hospitality, the posterity of Pindar and such as had opposed the revolt: the rest he sold for slaves, to the number of thirty thousand. There were above six thousand killed in the battle. The calamities which that wretched city suffered were va¬ rious and horrible. A party of Thracians demolished the house of Timoclea, a woman of quality and honour. The sol¬ diers carried off* the booty; and the captain, after having vio¬ lated the lady, asked her whether she had not some gold and silver concealed. She said she had; and taking him alone intc the garden, showed him a well, into which, she told him, she had thrown every thing of value when the city was taken. The officer stooped down to examine the well; upon whicli she pushed him in, and then despatcherl him with stones 252 ALEXANDER. The Thracians coming up, seized and bound her hands, and carried her before Alexander, who immediately perceived by iier look and gait, and the ‘fearless manner in which she fol¬ lowed that savage crew, that she was a woman of quality and superior sentiments. The king demanded, who she was? she answered,—I am the sister of Theagenes, who, in capacity of general, fought Philip for the liberty of Greece, and fell in the battle of Chseronea.'^ Alexander, admiring her answer, and the bold action she had performed, commanded her to be set at liberty, and her children with her. As for the Athenians, he forgave them, though they express¬ ed great concern at the misfortune of Thebes. For though they were upon the point of celebrating the feasts of the great mysteries, they omitted it on account of the mourning that took place, and received such of the Thebans as escaped the general wreck with all imaginable kindness into their city. But whether his fury, like that of a lion, was satiated with blood, or whether he had a mind to efface a most cruel and barbarous action by an act of clemency, he not only overlooked the complaints he had against them, but desired them to look well to their affairs, because, if any thing happened to him, Athens would give law to Greece. It is said, the calamities le brought upon the Thebans gave him uneasiness long after, and, on that account, he treated many others with less rigour. It is certain, he imputed the murder of Clitus, which he committed in his wine, and the Macedonians’ dastardly refusal to proceed in the Indian expe¬ dition, through which his wars and his glory were left imper¬ fect, to the anger of Bacchus, the avenger of Thebes. And there was not a Theban who survived the fatal overthrow, that was denied any favour he requested of him. Thus much con¬ cerning the Theban war. A general assembly of the Greeks being held at the Isthmus of’Corinth, they came to a resolution to send their quotas with Alexander against the Persians, and he was unanimously elected captain-general. Many statesmen and philosophers came to congratulate him on the occasion; and he hoped that Diogenes of Sinope, who then lived at Corinth, would be of the number. Finding, however, that he made but little ac¬ count of Alexander, and that he preferred the enjoyment of his leisure in a part of the suburbs called Cranium, he wem to see him. Diogenes happened to be lying in the sun; and at the approach of so many people., he raised himself up a lit¬ tle, and fixed his eyes upon Alexander. The king addressed him in an obliging manner, and asked him,^—If there wac any thing he could serve him in?” Only stand a little out of iny sunshine.” said Diogenes Alexander, we are told, was ALEXANDER. 253 struck with such surprise at finding himself so .ittle regarded, and saw something so great in that carelessness, that, while his courtiers were ridiculing the philosopher as a monster, he said,—“If 1 were not Alexander, I should wish to be Dio¬ genes.’’ He chose to consult the oracle about the event of the war, and for that purpose went to Delphi. He happened to arrive there on one of the days called inmispicioub\ upon which the law permitted no man to put his question. At first he sent to the prophetess to entreat her to do her office; but finding she refused to comply, and alleged the law in her excuse, he went himself and drew her by force into the temple. Then, as if conquered by his violence, she said,—“My son, thou art in¬ vincible.” Alexander, hearing this, said,—“ He wanted no otlier answer, for he had the very oracle he desired.” When he was on the point of setting out upon his expedi¬ tion, he had many signs from the divine powers. Among the rest, the statue of Orpheus in Libethra,^ which was of cypress wood, was in a profuse sweat for several days. The generality apprehended this to be an ill presage; but Aristander bade them dismiss their fears:—“ It signified,” he said, that Alex¬ ander would perform actions so worthy to be celebrated, that they would cost the poets and musicians much labour and sweat.” As to the number of his troops, those that put it at the least, say, he carried over thirty thousand foot and five thousand horse; and they who put it at the most tell us, his army con¬ sisted of thirty-four thousand foot and four thousand horse. 'The money provided for their subsistence and pay, according le Aristobulus, was only seventy talents. Duris says, he had no more than \vould maintain them one month; but Onesi- critus affirms that he borrowed two hundred talents for that purpose. However, though his provision was so small, he chose, at his embarkation, to inquire into the circumstances of his friends; and to one he gave a farm, to another a village; to this the revenue of a borough, and to that of a post. When in this manner he had disposed of almost all the estates of the crown, Perdiccas asked him,—“What he had reserved for himself?” The king answered,—“Hope.” “ Well,” replied Perdiccas, “ we who share in your laoours, will also take part in youi ho})es.” In consequence of which, he refused the estate allot¬ ted him, and some others of the lung’s friends did the same. * Tliis I.ibetlira was in the country of the Oclrys^e in Thrace. Uut ber/ide this city or moiincain in Thrace, there was the Cave of the Nymphs of Libe tbra. on Alfiuut Helicon, probably so denominated by Orpheus. 254 ALEXANDER. As for tho&e vviio accepted his offers, or applied to him for favours, he served them with equal pleasure; and by these means most of his Macedonian revenues were distributed and gone. Such was the spirit and disposhion with which he passed the Hellespont. As soon as he landed, he went up to Ilium, where he sacri¬ ficed to Minerva, and offered libations to the heroes. He also anointed the pillar upon Achilles’s tomb with oil, and ran round it with his friends, naked, according to the custom that obtains; after which he put a crown upon it, declaring,—He thought that hero extremely happy, in having found a faithful friend while he lived, and after his death an excellent herald to set forth his praise.” As he went about the city to look upon the curiosities, he was asked, whether he chose to see Paris’s lyre? 1 set but little value,” said he, upon the lyre of Paris; but it would give me pleasure to see that of Achilles; to which he sung the glorious actions of the brave. In the meantime, Darius’s generals had assembled a great army, and taken post upon the banks of the Granicus: so that Alexander was under the necessity of fighting there to open the gates of Asia. Many of his officers were apprehensive of the depth of the river, and the rough and uneven banks on the other side; and some thought a proper regard should be paid to a traditionary usage with respect to the time. For the kings of Macedon used never to march out to war in the month of D^sius. Alexander cured them of this piece of supersti¬ tion, by ordering that month to be called the second Jirlemisius. And when Parmenio objected to his attempting a passage so late in the day, he said,—The Hellespont would blush, if, after having passed it, he should be afraid of the Granicus.’* At the same time he threw himself into the stream with thir¬ teen troops of horse; and as he advanced in the face of the ene¬ my’s arrows, in spite of the steep banks, which were lined with cavalry well armed, and of the rapidity of the river which often bore him down, or covered him with its waves, his motions seemed rather the effects of madness than sound sense. He held on, however, till, by great and surprising ef¬ forts he gained the opposite banks, which the mud made ex¬ tremely slippery and dangerous. When he was there, he was forced to stand an engagement with the enemy, hand to hand; and with great confusion on his part, because they attacked his • This alludes to that passage in the ninth book of the Iliad,— “ Amus’d at ease the godlike man they found. Pleas’d with the solemn harp’s harmonious sound; With these he sooths his angry soul, and sings Th’ immortal deeds of heroes and of kings.” I opt. ALEXANDER. 2b!S men as ftist as they came over, belbrc he had lime to form them: for the Persian troops, charging with loud shouts- and with horse against horse, made good use of their spears, and when those were broken, of their swords. Numbers pressed harden Alexander, because he was easy to be distinguislied, both by his buckler, and by his crest, on each side of which was a large and beautiful plume of white feathers. H’s cuirass was pierced by a javelin at the joint, but he escaped unhurt. After tliis, Rhmsaces and Spithri- dales, two officers of great distinction, attacked him at once. He avoided Spithridates with great address, and received Rhmsaces with such a stroke of his spear upon his breast-plate, that it broke in pieces. Then he drew his sword to despatch him, but his adversary still maintained the combat. Mean¬ time, Spithridates came up on one side of him, and raising himself up on his horse, gave him a blow with his battle-axe, whicli cut off his crest with one side of his plume. Nay, the force of it was such, that the helmet could hardly resist it; it even penetrated to his hair. Spithridates was going to repeat his stroke, when the celebrated Clitus^ prevented him, by running him throiy^n the body with his spear. At the same time Alexander brought Rhoesaces to the ground with his sword. While the cavalry were lighting wuth so much fury, the Ala cedonian phalanx passed the river, and then the infantry like¬ wise engaged. The enemy made no great or long resistance, but soon turned their backs, and fled, all but the Grecian mer¬ cenaries, who making a stand upon an eminence, desired Alex¬ ander to give his word of honour that they should be spared But that prince, influenced rather by his passion than his rea son, instead of giving them quarter, advanced to attack them, and was so warmly received that he had his horse killed un¬ der him. It was not, however, the famous Bucephalus. In tliis dispute he had more of his men killed and wounded than in all the rest of the battle; for here they had to do with ex¬ perienced soldiers, who fought with a courage heightened by despair. The barbarians, we are told, lost in this battle twenty thou¬ sand foot, and two thousand five hundred horse;t whereas • In the original it is Kx*/'r6c CUtus the Great. But in Diodorus ^502 and 503), we find Kxj/'tc? o Clihis the Black; and Athenxus < 539, C.) mentions Kxwto? o xgyjto?, CUtus the Fair, Plutarch, therefore, probably v/rote it *o f Some manuscripts mention only ten thousand foot killed, which is thf. number we have in Diodorus (505). Arrian (p. 45,) makes the number ol horse killed only a thousand. 250 ALEXANDER. Alexander had no more than thirty-four men killed,^ mnc ol which were the infantry. To do honour to their memory, he erected a statue to each of them in brass, the workmanship of Lysippus. And that the Greeks might have their share in the glory of the day, he sent them presents out of the spoil: to the Athenians, in particular, he sent three hundred bucklers. Upon the rest of the spoils he put this pompous inscription:— WON BY ALEXANDER THE SON OF PHILIP, AND THE GREEKS, (excepting the LACEDH^MONIANS,) of the BARBARIANS IN ASIA. The greatest part of the plate, the purple furniture, ano other things of that kind which he took from the Persians, he sent to his mother. This battle made a great and immediate change in the face of Alexander’s affairs; insomuch that Sardis, the principal ornament of the Persian empire on the maritime side, made its submission. All the other cities followed its example, except Halicarnassus and Miletus; these he took by storm, and subdued all the adjacent country. After this he remain¬ ed some time in suspense as to the course he should take. One while he was for going, with great expedition, to risk all upon the fate of one battle with Darius: another while he was for first reducing all the maritime provinces; that when he had ex¬ ercised and strengthened himself by those intermediate actions and acquisitions, he might then march against that prince. There is a spring in Lycia near the city of the Xanthians, which they tell us, at that time turned its course of its own accord, and, overflowing its banks, threw up a plate of brass, upon which were engraved certain ancient characters, signify¬ ing,—That the Persian empire would one day come to a period, and be destroyed by the Greeks.” Encouraged by this prophecy, he hastened to reduce all the coast, as far as Phoenicet and Cilicia. His march through Pamphylia has af¬ forded matter to many historians for pompous description, as if it was by the interposition of heaven, that the sea retired before x'Vlexander, which at other times, ran there with sc strong a current, that the breaker-rocks, at the foot of the mountain very seldom were left bare. Menander, in his plea¬ sant w’ay, refers to this pretended miracle in one of his co medies;— * Aman (47) says, there were about twenty-five of the king^s friends killed, and of the persons of less note, sixty horse and thirty foot. Q. Cur¬ tins informs us, it was only the twenty-five friends who had statues. They were erected at Dia, a city of Macedonia, from whence Q. Metellus remov¬ ed them long after, and carried them to Rome. t This Phopnice, as Palrnerius has observed, was a district of Lycia ot F»amphyHa. At.EXANDER. 257 Ho^' like great Alexander! do I seek A friend? Spontaneous he presents himself. Have I to marcli where seas indignant roll? The sea retires, and there I march. But Alexander himself, in his epistles, makes no miracle of it;* he only says,—He marched from Phaselis by the way called Climax,^^ He had staid some time at Phaselis; and having found in the market place a statue of Theodectes, who was of that place, but then dead, he went out one evening when he had drunk freely at supper, in masquerade, and covered the statue with garlands. Thus, in an hour of festivity, he paid an agreeable compliment to the memory of a man with whom he had formerly had a connection, by means of Aristotle and philosophy. After this he subdued such of the Pisidians as had revolt¬ ed, and conquered Phrygia. Upon taking Gordium, which is said to have been the seat of the ancient Midas, he found the famed chariot, fastened with cords, made of the bark of the cornel tree, and was informed of a tradition, firmly believed among the barbarians,—That the Fates had decreed the em¬ pire of the world to the man who should untie the knot.^’ Most historians say, it was twisted so many private ways, and the ends so artfully concealed within, that Alexander, finding he could not untie it, cut it asunder with his sword, and so made many ends instead of two. But Aristobulus affirms that he easily untied it, by taking out the pin which fastened the yoke to the beam, and then drawing out the yoke itself. His next acquisitions were in Paphlagonia and Cappadocia; and there news was brought him of the death of Memnon,t There is likewise a passage in Strabo, wliich fully proves that there was no miracle in it:—Near the city of Phaselis,” says he, “between Lycia and Pamphylia, there is a passage by the sea side, througli whicli Alexan¬ der marched his army. This passage is very narrow, and lies between the shore and the mountain Climax, which overlooks the Pamphylian sea. It is drv at low water, so that travellers pass through it with safety; but when the sea is high, it is overflowed. It was then the winter season, and Alexander, vt ho depended much upon his good fortune, was resolved to set out without slaying till the floods were abated; so that his men were forced to march up to the middle in water.”— Sirah. lib. xiv. Josephus refers to this passage of Alexander, to gain the more credit among' the Greeks and Romans to the passage of the Israelites through the Red Sea. f Upon the death of Memnon, who had begjn with great success to re¬ duce the Greek islands, and was on the point of invading' Eubera, Darius was at a loss whom to employ. While he was in this suspense, Charidemus, ail Athenian, who had served with great reputation under Philip of Mace- d )n, but was now very zealous for the Persian interest, attempted to .set the Vol,. ni -2K 22* 258 ALEXANDER. who was the most respectable officer Darius had in the mnn time parts of his kingdom, and likely to have given the inva¬ der most trouble. This confirmed him in his resolution of marching into the upper provinces of Asia. By this time Darius had taken his departure from Susa, full of confidence in liis numbers, for his army consisted of no less than six hundred thousand combatants; and greatly encouraged besides by a dream, which the magi had interpreted rather in the manner they thought would please him than with a regard to probability. He dreamed,—That he saw the Macedonian phalanx all on fire; and that Alexander, in the dress which he, Darius, had formerly worn when one of the king’s couriers,’^ acted as his servant; after which Alexander went into the tem¬ ple of Belus, and there suddenly disappeared.” By this heaven seems to have signified, that prosperity and honour would attend the Macedonians; and that Alexander would be¬ come master of Asia, like Daidus before him, who, of a simple courier, became a king; but that he would nevertheless soon die, and leave his glory behind him. Darius was still more encouraged by Alexander’s long stay in Cilicia, which he looked upon as the effect of his fear. But the real cause of his stay was sickness, which some attribute to his great fatigues, and others to his bathing in the river Cydnus, whose water is extremely cold. His physicians dur^st not give him any medicines, because they thought themselves not so certain of the cure, as of the danger they must incur in the application: for they feared the Macedonians, if they did not succeed, would suspect them of some bad practice. Philip the Acarnanian saw how desperate the king’s case was, as wel^ as the rest; but besides the confidence he had in his friend¬ ship, he thought it the highest ingratitude, when his master was in so much danger, not to risk something with him in exhausting all his art for his relief. He, therefore, attempted king* and his ministers right:—“ While you, Sir,’’ said he to Darius, “ are fcafe, the empire can never be in great danger. Let me, tlierefore, exhort you nev'er to expose your person, but to make choice of some able g'eneraj to march against your enemy. One hundred thousand men will be more than sufficient, provided a third of them be mercenaries, to compel him to abandon this enterprise; and if you will honour me with the command, I will be ficcountable for the success of what I advise.” Darius was ready to ac¬ cede to the proposal; but the Persian grandees, through envy, accused Charidemus of a treasonable design, and effected his ruin, Darius repented «n a few days, but it was tlien too late. That able counsellor and general vv a3 condemned and executed.— Diod. Sic. 1. xvii. Q. Curt. 1. iii. In the text AryatvcTx?. But it appears from Hesychius and Suidas, that it should be read AcrstvJijc. It is the Persian word istanda, stator, (from stade, stare) with a Greek tei'mination; and we learn from Cicero, that siatorr s.g« uifii 2 s a courier. ALEXANDER. 259 the cure, and found no difficulty in persuading the king to wait with patience till his medicine was prepared, or to take it when ready; so desirous was he of a speedy recovery, in order to prosecute the war. In the meanf.ime, Parmenio sent him a letter from the camp, advising him “ to beware of Philip, whom,” he said, Darius had prevailed upon, by presents of infinite value, and the pro¬ mise of his daughter in marriage, to take him off by poison.” As soon as Alexander had read the letter, he put it under his pillow, without showing it to any of his friends. The time appointed being come, Philip with the king’s friends, entered the chamber, having the cup which contained the medicine in his hand. The king received it freely, without the least marks of suspicion, and at the same time put the letter into his hands. It was a striking situation, and more interesting than any scene in a tragedy; the one reading, while the other was drinking. They looked upon each other, but with a very dif^ ferent air. The king, with an open and unembarrassed conn' tcnance, expressed his regard for Philip, and the confidence he had in his honour; Philip’s look showed his indignation at the calumny. One while he lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, protesting his fidelity; another while he threw him seif down by the bedside, entreating his master to be of good courage, and trust to his care. The medicine, indeed, was so strong, and overpowered his spirits in such a manner, that at first he was speechless, and discovered scarce any sign of sense or life. But afterwards he was soon relieved by this faithful physician,’^ and recovered so well that he was able to show himself to the Macedonians, whose distress did not abate till he came personally before them. There was in the army of Darius a Macedonian fugitive, named Amyntas, who knew perfectly well the disposition of Alexander; This man, perceiving that Darius prepared to march through the straits in quest of Alexander, begged him to remain where he was, and take the advantage of receiv ing an enemy, so much inferior to him in number, upon large and spacious plains. Darius answered,—“ He was afraid in thaf. case the enemy would fly without coming to an action, and Alexander escape him.” If that is all you fear,” replied the Macedonian, let it give you no farther uneasiness; for he will come to seek you, and is already on his march.” However, his representations had no effect: Darius set out for Cilicia; and Alexander was making for Syria in quest of him. But happening to miss each other in the night, they 1 , 0 ''h • In three days’ time. 260 ALEXANDER. turned back; Alexander rejoicing in his good fortune, and has¬ tening to meet Darius in the straits; while Darius endeavour¬ ed to disengage himself, and recover his former camp; for bv this time he was sensible of his error in throwing himself into ground hemmed in by the sea, on one side, and the mountains on the other, and intersected by the river Pinarus, so that it was impracticable for cavalry; and his infantry could only act in small and broken parties; while, at the same time, this situation was extremely convenient for the enemy’s inferior numbers. Thus fortune befriended Alexander as to the scene of action; but the skilful disposition of his forces contributed still more to his gaining the victory. As his army was very small in com¬ parison of that of Darius, he took care to draw it up so as to prevent its being surrounded, by stretching out his right wing larther than the enemy’s left. In that wdng he acted in person, and, fighting in the foremost ranks, put the barbarians to flight. He was wounded, how'ever, in the thigh, and, according to Chares, by Darius, wdio engaged him hand to hand. But Alex¬ ander, in the account he gave Antipater of the battle, does not mention wdio it was that wounded him. He only says, he re¬ ceived a wound in his thigh by a sword, and that no dangerous consequences followed it. The victory w^as a very signal one; for he killed above a hun¬ dred and ten thousand of the enemy.^' Nothing was wanting to complete it but the taking of Darius; and that prince escaped narrow'ly, having got the start of his pursuer only by four or five furlongs. Alexander took his chariot and his bow, and re¬ turned wdth them to his Macedonians. He found them loading themselves wdth the plunder of the enemy’s camp, w^hich was rich and various; though Darius, to make his troops fitter for action, had left most of the baggage in Damascus. The Ma¬ cedonians had reserved for their master the tent of Darius, in wdiich he found officers of the household magnificently clothed, rich furniture, and great quantities of gold and silver. As soon as he had put off his armour, he w^ent to the bath, saying to those about him,—Let us go and refresh ourselves after the fatigues of the field, in the bath of Darius.” ^^Nay, rather,” said one of his friends, in the bath of Alexander; for the goods of the conquered are, and should be called the conqueror’s.” When he had taken a view of the basins, vials, boxes, and other vases, curiously wrought in gold, smelled the fragrant odours of essences, and seen the splendid furniture, of spacious apartments, he turned to his fri-^nds and saicb This, then, it seems, it was to be a king.”t * Diodorus says a hundred and thirty thousand. •( As if he had said,—“ Could a king place his happiness in such eiiioy. ALEXANDER 261 As he was 'sitting down to table, an account was brought that among the prisoners were the mother and wife of Darius, and two unmarried daughters; and that upon seeing nis chariot and bow they broke out into great lamentations, concluding that he was dead. Alexander, after some pause, during which he was rather commiserating their misfortunes than rejoicing in his own success, sent Leonatus to assure them,—That Darius was not dead; that they had nothing to fear from Alexander, for his dispute with Darius was only for empire; and that they should find themselves provided for in the same manner as when Darius v/as in his greatest prosperi¬ ty.^^ If this message to the captive princesses was gracious and humane, his actions were still more so. He allowed them to do the funeral honours to what Persians they pleased, and for that purpose furnished them, out of the spoils, with robes, and all the other decorations that were customary. They had as many domestics, and were served in all respects in as ho¬ nourable a manner as before: indeed, their appointments were greater. But there was another part of his behaviour to them still more noble and princely. Though they were now cap¬ tives, he considered that they were ladies, not only of high rank, but of great modesty and virtue; and took care that they should not hear an indecent word, nor have the least cause tc suspect any danger to their honour. Nay, as if they had been in ix holy temple or asylum of virgins, rather than in an ene my’s camp, they lived unseen and unapproached, in the most sacred privacy. It is said, the wife of Darius was one of the most beautiful women, as Darius w^as one of the tallest and handsomest men in the wmrld; and that their daughters much resembled them But Alexander, no doubt, thought it more glorious and wor¬ thy of a king to conquer himself, than to subdue his enemies, and, therefore, never approached one of them. Indeed, his continence was such, that he knew not any woman before his marriage, except Barsine, who became a widow by the death tf her husband, Memnon, and was taken prisoner near Damas cus. She was well versed in the Greek literature, a woman of the most agreeable temper, and of royal extraction; for her father, Ar'vabazus, was grandson to a king of Persia.^ Ac¬ cording to Aristobulus, it was Parmenio, that put Alexander upon this 2annection with so accomplished a woman, whose beauty was her least perfection. As for the other female ca}> lives, though they were tall and beautiful, Alexander took no merits as these For Alexander was not, till long* after this, comipted by the Persian luxury. ALEXANDER. 2fi2 farther notice of them than to say, by way of a jest,—What eye-sores these Persian women are!’’ He found a counter- charm in the beauty of self-government and sobriety; and, in the strength of that, passed them by as so many statues. Philoxenus, who commanded his forces upon the coast, ac¬ quainted him by letter, that there was one Theodorus, a Ta- rentine, with him, who had two beautiful boys to sell, and de¬ sired to know whether he chose to buy them. Alexander was GO much incensed at this application, that he asked his friends several times,—What base inclinations Philoxenus had ever seen in him, that he durst make him so infamous a proposal?” In his answer to the letter, which was extremely severe upon Philoxenus, he ordered him to dismiss Theodorus and his vile merchandise together. He likewise reprimanded young Ag non for offering to purchase Crobylus for him, whose beauty was famous in Corinth. Being informed that two Macedo- nians, named Damon and Timotheus, had corrupted the wives of some of his mercenaries who served under Parmenio, he ordered that officer to inquire into the affair; and if they were found guilty to put them to death, as no better than savages, bent on the destruction of human kind. In the same letter, speaking of his own conduct, he expresses himself in these terms:—For my part, I have neither seen, nor desired to see, the wife of Darius; so far from that, I have not suffered any man to speak of her beauty before me.” He used to say",— That sleep, and the commerce with the sex, were the things that made him most sensible of his mortality".” For he con¬ sidered both weariness and pleasure as the natural effects of our weakness. He was also very temperate in eating. Of this there are many proofs; and we have a remarkable one in what he said to Ada, whom he called his mother, and had made queen of Carla.^ Ada, to express her affectionate regards, sent him, every day, a number of excellent dishes, and a handsome des¬ sert; and, at last, she sent him some of her best cooks and bakers. But he said,—He had no need of them; for he had been supplied with better cooks by his tutor Leonidas; a march before day to dress his dinner, and a light dinner to prepare his supper.” He added, that ^Hhe same Leonidas used to examine the chests and wardrobes in v/hich his bedding and clothes * This princess, after the deatli of her eldest brother Maiisolus, and his consort Artemisia, who died without children, succeeded to the throne with her brother Hidreus, to whom she liad been married. Hidrens dying before her, Pexodorus, her third brother, dethroned her, and after his death, his son-in-law, Orontes, seized the crown. But Alexander restored her to the possession of her dominions. 263 ALEXANDER. were put, lest 'something of luxury and superfluity sliould bt introduced there by his mother.’’ Nor was he so much addicted to wine as he was thought to be. It was supposed so, because he passed a great deal of time at table; hut that time was spent rather in talking than drink¬ ing, every cup introducing some long discourse. Besides, he never made these long meals but when he had abundance oi leisure upon his hands. When business called he was not to he detained by wine, or sleep, or pleasure, or honourable love, or the most entertaining spectacle, though the motions of other generals have been retarded by some of theso things. His life sufficiently confirms this assertion; for, though very short, he performed in it innumerable great actions. On his days of leisure, as soon as he was risen, he sacrificed to the gods; after which he took his dinner sitting. The res> of the (lay he spent in hunting, or deciding the differences among his troops, or in reading and writing. If he was upon a march which did not require haste, he would exercise him¬ self in shooting and darting the javelin, or in mounting oi alighting from a chariot at full speed. Sometimes also he di¬ verted himself with fowling and fox-hunting, as we find by his journals. On his return to his quarters, when he went to be refreshed with the bath and with oil, he inquired of the stewards of his kitchen whether they had prepared every thing in a handsome manner for supper. It was not till late in the evening, and when night was come on, that he took this meal, and then he ate in a recumbent posture. He was very atten-tive to his guests at table, that they might be served equally, and none neglected. His entertainments, as we have already observed, lasted many hours; but they were lengthened out rather by conversation than drinking. His conversation, in many re¬ spects, was more agreeable than that of most princes, for he was not deficient in the graces of society. His only fault was his retaining so much of the soldier,^ as to indulge a trouble¬ some vanity. He would not only boast of his own actions, but suffered himself to be cajoled by flatterers to an amazina degree. These wretches were an intolerable burden to the rest of the company, who did not choose to contend with them ill adulation, nor yet to appear behind them in their opinion of their king’s achievements. As to delicacies, he had so little regard for them, that wher (he choicest fruit and fish were brought him from distant conn * The ancients in their comic pieces, used always to jUit the rodomon tades in the character of*a soldier. At present the army liave as little vani ty as any set of people whatever. 264 ALEXANDER. tries and seas, he would send some to each of his friends, and he very often left none for himself. Yet there was always a magnificence at his table, and the expense rose with his for¬ tune, till it came to ten thousand drachmas for one entertain¬ ment. There it stood; and he did not suffer those that invited him to exceed that sum.* After the oattle of Issus, he sent to Damascus, and seized the money and equipages of the Persians, together witii their wives and children. On that occasion the Thessalian cavalry enriched themselves most. They had, indeed, greatly dis¬ tinguished themselves in the action, and they were favoured with this commission, that they might have the best share in the spoil. Not but the rest of the army found sufficient booty; and the Macedonians having once tasted the treasures and the .luxury of the barbarians, hunted for the Persian wealth with all the ardour of hounds upon scent. It appeared to Alexander a matter of great importance, be¬ fore he went farther, to gain the maritime powers. Upon ap plication, the kings of Cyprus and Phoenicia made their sub¬ mission: only Tyre held out. He besieged that city seven months; during which time he erected vast mounts of earth, })iied it with his engines, and invested it on the side next the sea with two hundred galleys. He had a dream, in which he saw Hercules offering him his hand from the wall, and inviting him to enter. And many of the Tyrians dreamed,^—That Apollo declared he would go over to Alexander, because he was displeased with their behaviour in the town.^^ Hereupon the Tyrians, as if the god had been a deserter taken in the fact, loaded his statue with chains, and nailed the feet to the pedes¬ tal; not scrupling to call him an Jilexnndrist, In another dream, Alexander thought he saw a satyr playing before him at some distaiv'.e; and when he advanced to take him, the savage eluded his grasp. However, at last, after much coaxing, and taking many circuits round him, he prevailed on him to surrender himself. The interpreters, plausibly enough, divided the Greek term for saV^r into two, Sa Tyros, which signifies Tyre is thine. They still show us a fountain, near which Alexander is said to have seen that vision. About the middle of the siege, he made an excursion against the Arabians, who dwelt about Antilibanus. There he ran a great risk of his life, on account of his preceptor Lysimachus, * One of the Tyrians dreamed he saw Apollo flying* from the city. Upon his reporting this to the people, they would have stoned him, supposing that he did it to intimidate them. He was obliged, therefore, to take refuge in the temple of Hercules. But the magistrates, upon mature de¬ liberation, resolved to fix one end of a gold chain to the statue of Apollo, and the other to the altar of Hercules.— Dlod. Sic. lil . xvii. ALEXANDER. 36A ^ho insisted* on attenQing; him; being, as he alleged, neither older nor less valiant than Phoenix. But when they came tc the hills, and quitted their horses, to march up on foot, the rest of their party got far before Alexander and Lysimachus. Night came on, and as tne enemy was at no great distance, the king would not leave his preceptor, borne down with fatigue and the weight of years. Therefore, while he was encourag¬ ing and helping him forward, he was insensibly separated from his troops, and had a dark and very cold night to pass in an exposed and dismal situation. In this perplexity, he observed at a distance a number of scattered fires which the enemy had lighted; and depending upon his swiftness and activity, as well as accustomed to extricate the Macedonians out of everv difficulty, by taking a share in the labour and danger, he ran to the next fire. After having killed two of the barbarians that sat watching it, he seized a lighted brand, and hastened with it to his party, who soon kindled a great fire. The sight of this so intimidated the enemy, that many of them fled, and those wdio ventured to attack him, were repulsed with con¬ siderable loss. By these means he passed the night in safety, according to the account we have from Chares. As for the siege, it was brought to a termination in this manner:—Alexander had permitted his main body to repose themselves, after the long and severe fatigues they had under¬ gone, and ordered only some small parties to keep the Tyrians in play. In the meantime, Aristander, his principal sooth¬ sayer, offered sacrifices; and one day, upon inspecting the en¬ trails of the victim, he boldly asserted, among those about him, that the city would certainly be taken that month. As it hap¬ pened then to be the last day of the month, his assertion was received w*ith ridicule and scorn. The king perceiving he was disconcerted, and making it a point to bring the prophecies of his ministers to completion, gave orders that the day should not be called the thirtieth, but the twenty-eighth of the month. At the same time he called out his forces by sound of trum¬ pet, and made a much more vigorous assault than he at first intended. The attack was violent; and those who were left behind in the camp, quitted it to have a share in it, and to sup¬ port their fellow-soldiers; insomuch, that the Tyrians were forced to give out, and the city w^as taken that very day. From thence he marched into Syria, and laid siege to Gaza, the capital of that country. While he was employed there, a bird, as it flew by, let fall a clod of earth upon his shoulder, and then going to perch on the cross-cords with which they turned the engines, was entangled and taken. The event an¬ swered Aristander^s interpretation of this sign: Alexander was wounded in the shoulder, but he took the city He sent most VoL. Ill -2T 28 ALEXANDEK, 26b of its spoils to Olympias and Cleopatraj and others of fii* friends. His tutor, Leonidas, was not forgotten; and the pre¬ sent he made him had something particular in it. It consisted of five hundred talents weight of frankincense,^ and a hundred of myrrh, and was sent upon the recollection of the hopes he had conceived when a boy. It seems Leonidas one day had observed Alexandei*, at a sacrifice, throwing incense into the fire by handfuls; upon which he said,—Alexander, when you have conquered the country where spices grow, you may be thus liberal of your incense; but, in the meantime, use what you have more sparingly.^’ He, therefore, wrote thus,—I have sent you frankincense and myrrh in abundance, that you may be no longer a churl to the gods.^^ A casket being one day brought him, which appeared one of the most curious and valuable things among the treasures and the whole equipage of Darius, he asked his friends what they thought most worthy to be put in it? Different things were proposed; but he said,—The Iliad most deserved such a case.^’ This particular is mentioned by several writers of credit. And if what the Alexandrians say, upon the faith of Heraclides, be true, Homer was no bad auxiliary or useless counsellor in the course of the war. They tell us, that when Alexander had conquered Egypt, and determined to build there a great city, which was to oe peopled with Greeks, and called after his own name, by the advice of his architects he had marked a piece of ground, and was preparing to lay the foundation; but a wonderful dream made him fix upon another situation. He thought a person with gray hair, and a very venerable aspect, approached him, and repeated the following lines:— Hig’h o’er a gulf} sea, the Pharian isle Fronts the deep roar of disemboguing Nile. \^Pope. ] Alexander, upon this, immediately left his bed, and went to Pharos, which at that time was an island lying a little above the Canobic mouth of the Nile, but now is joined to the conti¬ nent by a causeway. He no sooner cast his eyes upon the F lace than he perceived the commodiousness of the situation. t is a tongue of land, not unlike an isthmus, whose breadth is proportionable to its length. On one side it has a great lake, and on the other the sea, which there forms a capacious har- Ib, oz. dwt. gr, * The common Attic talent, in Troy weight, was - 56 11 0 17i This talent consisted of 60 minae; but there was another Attic talent, by some said to consist of 80, by others of 100 minae. The mina was - - • - 011716* The talent of Alexandria was . - . • - 104 0 19 14^ ALEXANDER. 267 bo.ir.* This led him to declare, that Homer, amonp; his other admirable qualifications, was an excellent architect;’’ and he ordered a city to be planned suitable to the ground, and its appendant conveniences. For want of chalk, they made use of flour, which answered well enough upon a black soil, and they drew a line with it about the semicircular bay The arm.D of this semicircle were terminated by straight lines, so that ihe whole was in the form of a Macedonian cloak. While the king was enjoying the design, on a sudden an in finite number of large birds of various kinds rose, like a black cloud, out of the river and the lake, and lighting upon the place, ate up all the flour that was used in marking out the lines. Alexander was disturbed at the omen; but the diviners encouraged him to proceed, by assuring him it was a sign that the city he was going to build would be blest with such plenty, as to furnish a supply to all that should repair to it from other nations. The execution of the plan he left to his architects, and went lo visit the temple of Jupiter Ammon. It was a long and la¬ borious journey;t and beside the fatigue, there were two great * ’n? av ui'% ‘TOTTov ('ToLivia. sct/v taid the youth. The repartee pleased the king much; he laughed, and immediately made him very valuable presents. One Proteas, a man of humour, and a jester by pi ofession, bacl happened to offend him. His friends in .ereeded for him^and VoL. Ill -24^ 282 ALEXANDER. he sued for pardon with tears; which at last the king granted,— If j’ou do really pardon me/^ resumed the wag, I hope you will give me at least some substantial proof of it.” And he condescended to do it in a present of five talents. With what a free hand he showered his gifts upon his friends, and those who attended on his person,* appears from one of the letters of Olympias:—You do well,” said she, in serving your friends, and it is right to act nobly; but by mak¬ ing them all equal to kings, in proportion as you put it in their power to make friends, you deprive yourself of that privilege.” Olympias often wrote to him in that manner; but he kept all her letters secret, except one, which Hephsestion happened to cast his eye upon, when he went according to custom, to read over the king’s shoulder. He did not hinder him from read¬ ing on; only, when he had done, he took his signet from his finger, and put it to his mouth.t The son of Mazseus, who was the principal favourite of Darius, was already governor of a province, and the conqueror added to it another government still more considerable. But the young man declined it in a handsome manner, and said,— Sir, we had but one Darius, and now you make many Alex¬ anders.” He bestowed on Parmenio the house of Bagoas, in which were found such goods as were taken at Susa,f to the value of a thousand talents. He wrote to Antipater to acquaint him, that there was a design formed against his life, and order¬ ed him to keep guards about him*. As for his mother, he made her many magnificent presents; but he would not suffer her busy genius to exert itself in state affairs, or in the least to control the proceedings of government. She complained of this as a hardship, and he bore her ill-humour with great mild¬ ness. Antipater once wrote him a long letter, full of heavy complaints against her; and when he had read it, he said,— “ Anti pater knows not that one tear of a mother can blot out a thousand su 'h complaints.” He found that his great officers set no bounds to their luxu¬ ry; that they were most extravj:gantly delicate in their diet, and profuse in other respects; insomuch that Agnon of Teos wore silver nails in his shoes; Leonatus had many camel-loads * He probably means in particular the fifty yoiing- men brought him by \myntas, who were of the principal families in Macedonia. Their office to wait on him at table, to attend with horses when he went to fight »r to hunt, and to keep guard day and night at his chamber door. + 'I'o enjoin him silence. T T»i' 'Till — i/udL'Ttf/uuv, drapery goods. This we take to mean such (ike purple as was taken at Susa, or perhaps that very purple. Dacier reads HephaesUon, instead of Parmenio. The Vulcob. MS. has instead of w hich is certainly better. ALKXANn)ER. 283 of earth brought from Egypt to rub himself with when he wtmt to the wrestling-ring; Philotas had hunting-nets that would enclose the space of a hundred furlongs; more made use ot rich essences than oil after bathing, and had their grooms of the bath, as well as chamberlains, who excelled in bed-mak* ing. This degeneracy he reproved with all the temper of a philosopher. He told them,—It was very strange to him, that, after having undergone so many glorious conflicts, they did noi: remember that those who come from labour and ex¬ ercise, always sleep more sweetly than the inactive and effemi¬ nate; and that in comparing the Persian manners with the Macedonian, they did not perceive that nothing was more ser¬ vile than the love of pleasure, or more princely than a life of toil. How will that man,’’ continued he, “ take care of his own horse, or furbish his lance and helmet, whose hands are too delicate to wait on his own dear person? Know you not that the end of conquest is, not to do what the conquered have done, but something greatly superior?” After this he constant¬ ly took the exercise of war or iuinting, and exposed himself to danger and fatigue with less precaution than ever; so that a Lacedaemonian ambassador, who attenrled him one day when he killed a fierce lion, said,—Alexander, you have disputed the prize of royalty gloriously with the lion.” Craterus got this hunting-piece represented in bronze, and consecrated it in the temple at Delphi. There were the lion, the dogs, the king fighting with the lion, and Craterus making u-p to the king’? assistance. Some of these statues were the workmanship of Lysippus, and others of Leochares. Thus Alexander hazarded his person, by way of exercise to himself, and example to others. But his friends, in the pride of wealth, were so devoted to luxury and ease, that they con¬ sidered long marches and campaigns as a burden, and by de¬ grees came to murmur and speak ill of the king. At first he bore their censures with great moderation, and used to say,— ‘‘ There was something noble in hearing himself ill spoken of while he was doing well.”^ Indeed, in the least of the good offices he did his friends, there were great marks of affection and respect. We will give an instance or two of it:—He wrote to Peucestas, who had been bit by a bear in hunting, to com^ plain, that he had given an account of the accident, by letter, to others of his friends, and not to him.—But now,” says he, ‘‘ let me know, however, how you do, and whether any of your company deserted you, that I may punish them, ii such there were.” When Hephaestion happened to be absent upon * Voltaire says somewhere, that it is a noble thing to make ingrates. seems to be irdcbted for the sentiment to Alexander. 284 ALEX ANDER. business, he acquainted him in one of his letters, that as they were diverting themselves with hunting the ichneumon,* Cra- terus had the misfortune to be run through the thigh with Perdiccas’s lance. When Peucestas recovered of a dangerous illness, he wrote a letter with his own hand to Alexippus the physician, to thank him for his care. During the sickness of Craterus, the king had a dream, in consequence of whicli he offered sacrifices for his recovery, and ordered him to do the same. Upon Pausanias the physician’s design to give Craterus a dose of hellebore, he wrote to him, expressing his great anxiety about it, and desiring him to be particularly cautious in the use of that medicine. He imprisoned Ephialtes and Cissus, who brought him the first news of the flight and trea¬ sonable practices of Harpalus, supposing their information false. Upon his sending home the invalids and the superannuated, Eurylochus the AiLgean, got himself enrolled among the for¬ mer. Soon after, it was discovered that he had no infirmity of body; and he confessed it was the love of Telesippa, who was going to return home, that put him upon that expedient to follow her. Alexander inquired who the woman was; and being informed that, though a courtesan, she was not a slave, he said,—Eurylochus, I am willing to assist you in this affair, but as the woman is free-born, you must see if we can prevail upon her by presents and courtship.” Ic is surprising that he had time or inclination to write let¬ ters about such unimportant affairs of his friends, as to give orders for diligent search to be made in Cilicia for Seleucus’s run-away slave: to commend Peucestas for having seized Ni- con, a slave that belonged to Craterus; and to direct Mega- byzus, if possible, to draw another slave from his asylum, and take him, but not to touch him while he remained in the temple. It is said, that in the first years of his reign, when capital causes were brought before him, he used to stop one of his ears with his hand, while the plaintiff was opeiiing the indict¬ ment, that he might reserve it perfectly unprejudiced for hear * Tlie Egyptian rat, called ichneumon^ is of tlie size of a cat, with very rough hair, spotted with white, yellow, and asli-colour; its nose like that of u hog, with which it digs up the earth. It has short black legs, and a tail like a fox. It Uves on lizards, serpents, snails, chamelions, &c. and is of great service in Egypt, by its natural instinct of hunting out and breaking the eggs of the crocodile, and thereby preventing too great an increase of that destructive creature. The naturalists also say, that it is so greedy after the crocodile's liver, that rolling itself up in mud, it slips down his throat, while he sleeps with his mouth open, and gnaws its way out again.— Diod. ISic. p- 32. 78; Plin. 1. viii. c. 24, 25. The Egyptians worshipped the ichneumon for destroying the crocodiles. They worshipped the crocodile, too, probably as the Indians do the-devils til'll it might do them no huii:. ALEXANDER. 285 in^ the de-fentJant. But the many false informations which were afterwards lodged, and which, by means of some true circumstances, were so represented as to give an air of truth to the whole, broke his temper. Particularly in case of asper¬ sions upon his own character, his reason forsook him, and he became extremely and inflexibly severe; as preferring his re¬ putation to life and empire. When he marched against Darius again, he expected another battle. But upon intelligence that Bessus had seized the per¬ son of that prince, he dismissed the Thessalians, and sent them home, after he had given them a gratuity of two thousand ta¬ lents, over and above their pay. The pursuit was long and laborious, for he rode three thousand three hundred furlongs in eleven days.^ As they often suffered more for want of wa¬ ter than by fatigue, many of the cavalry were unable to hold out. While they were upon the march, some Macedonians had filled their bottles at the river, and were bringing the wa¬ ter upon mules. These people seeing Alexander greatly dis¬ tressed with thirst, (for it was in the heat of the day,) imme¬ diately filled a helmet with water, and presented it to him. He asked them to whom they were carrying it? and they said,— Their sons; but if our prince does but live, we shall get oTher ci'iildren, if we lose them.’^ Upon this he took the hel¬ met in his hands; but, looking round, and seeing all the horse¬ men bending their heads, and fixing their eyes upon the water, he returned it without drinking. However, he praised the people that offered it, and said,—If I alone drink, these good men will be dispirited.The cavalry who were witnesses to this act of temperance and magnanimity, cried out,—Let us march! we are neither weary nor thirsty, nor shall we even think ourselves mortal, while under the conduct of such a. king.^’ At the same time they put spurs to their horses. They had all the same affection to the cause, but only sixty were able to keep up with him till he reached the enemy’? camp. There they rode over the gold and silver that lay scat¬ tered about, and passing by a number of carriages full of wo men and children, which were in motion, but without cha¬ rioteers, they hastened to the leading squadrons, not doubting that they should find Darius among them. At last, after much search, they found him extended on his chariot, and pierced with many darts. Though he was near his last moments, he • As this was no more than forty miles a-day, our Newmarket heroes would have beat Alexander hollow. It is nothing’ when compared to Charles Xll’s march from Bender through Germany; nothing to the expedition of Hannibal along the African coast. f Lucan has embellished this story for Cato, and has possibly introduced it merely upon Imitation. 1^86 ALEXANDER. nad strength to ask for something to quench his tkh’st A Macedonian, named Poly stratus, brought him some cold water and when he had drunk, he said,—Friend, this fills up the measure of my misfortunes, to think I am not able to rewaro thee for this act ot kindness. But Alexander will not let the« go without a recompense, and the gods will reward Alexande for his humanity to my mother, to my wife, and children Tell him I gave him my hand, for I give it thee in his stead. So saying, he took the hand of Polystratus, and immediately expired. When Alexander came up, he showed his concern for that event by the strongest expressions, and covered the body with his own robe. Bessus afterwords fell into his hands, and he punished his parricide in tWii manner: He caused two straight trees to be bent, and one of his legs to be made fast to each; then suffer¬ ing the trees to return to their former posture, his body was torn asunder by the violence of the recoil. As for the body of Darius, he ordered it should have all the honours of a royal funeral, and sent it embalmed to his mo¬ ther. Oxathres, that prince’s brother, he admitted into the number of his friends. His next movement was into Hyrcania, which he entered with the flower of his army. There he took a view of the Caspian sea, which appeared to him not less than the Euxine, but its water was of a sweeter taste. He could get no certain information in what manner it was formed, but he conjectured that it came from an outlet of the Pains Maeotis. Yet the an¬ cient naturalists were not ignorant of its origin; for, many years before Alexander’s expedition, they wrote, that there are four seas which stretch from the main ocean into the con- ' tinent, the farthest north of which is the Hyrcanian or the Caspian.t The barbarians here fell suddenly upon a party who were leading his horse Bucephalus, and took him. This provoked him so much, that he sent a herald to threaten them, their wives, and children, with utter extermination, if they did not restore him the horse. But, upon their bringing him back, and surrendering to h .m their cities, he treated them with great clemency, and paid a considerable sum, by way of ransom, to those that took the horse. From thence he marched into Parthia; where, finding n;> emp oyment for his arms, he first put on the robe of the bar¬ barian kings: whether it w'as that he conformed a little to their * Q, Curtins tells us Alexander delivered up the assassin to Oxathres, the brother to Darius; in consequence of which he had his nose and ears cut off, and was fastened to a cross, where he was despatched with darts and arrows. \ This is an error whicli Pliny too has followed. The Caspian sea haj i.o communication with the ocean. ALEXANDER. 287 customs, because be knew how much a similarity of manners tp.ncls to reconcile and gain men’s hearts; or whether it was by way of experiment, to see if the Macedonians might be brought to pay him the greater deference, by accustoming them insen¬ sibly to the new barbaric attire and port which lie assumed However, he thought the Median habit made too stiff and ex¬ otic an appearance, and, therefore, took not the long breeches, or the sweeping train, or the tiara; but adopting something between the Median and Persian mode, contrived vestments less pompous than the former and more majestic than the lat¬ ter. At first he used this dress only before the barbarians, or his particular friends within doors; but in time he came to wear it when he appeared in public, and sat for the despatch of business. This was a mortifying sight to the Macedonians; yet, as they admired his other virtues, they thought he might be suffered to please himself a little, and enjoy his vanity. Some indulgence seemed due to a prince, who, beside his othei hardships, had lately been wounded in the leg with an arrow, which shattered the bone in such a manner that splinters were taken out; who, another time, had such a violent blow from 1 stone upon the nape of his neck, that an alarming darkness covered his eyes, and-continued for some time: and yet con¬ tinued to expose his person without the least precaution. On the contrary, when he had passed the Orexartes, which he sup¬ posed to be the Tanais, he not only attacked the Scythians, and routed them, but pursued them a hundred furlongs, in spite of what he suffered at that time from a flux. There the queen of the Amazons camie to visit him, as Clitarchus, Polycritus, Onesicritus, Antigenes, Ister, and many other historians report; but Aristobulus, Chares of Thean- gela,* Ptolemy, Anticlides, Philo the Theban, Philip, who was also of Theangela, as well as Hecataeus of Eretria, Philip of Chalcis, and Duris of Samos, treat the story as a fiction. And indeed Alexander himself seems to support their opinion: for in one of his letters to Antipater, to whom he gave an exact detail of all that passi^d, he says, the king of Scythia offered him his daughter in marriage; but he makes not the least men tion of the Amazon. Nay, when Onesicritus, many years af¬ ter, read to Lysimachus, then king, the fourth book of his his¬ tory, in which this story was introduced, he smiled, and said, —Where was I at that time?” But whether we give credit • Tn the Greek text it is uvdiyytKvj^, both here and just after, signifies a gentleman-usher; but it does not appear that either Chares or Philip ever held such an office. It is certain, Qia.yyiKiv(: is the right reading, from MienaeuSy book vi. p. 271, where he mentions Philip as belonging ta Theangela in Caria. 288 ALEXANDER. fo this particular or not; is a matter that will neither advas the son of Hero, Aristotle’s niece. His death is variously re- liled. Some say Alexander ordered him to be hanged; others, that he fell sick and died in chains; and Chares writes that he was kept seven months in prison, in order to be tried in full council, in the presence of Aristotle; but that he died of exces¬ sive corpulency and the lousy disease, at the time that Alexan der was wmunded by the Malli Oxydracje in India. This hap pened, however, at a later period than that we are upon. In the meantime, Demaratus the Corinthian, though far ad vanced in years, was ambitious of going to see Alexandei ALEXANDER. 297 Accordiiigly, he took the voyage, and when he beheld him, he said,—The Greeks fell short of a great pleasure, who did not live to see Alexander upon the throne of Darius.’’ But he did not live to enjoy the king’s friendship. He sickened, and died soon after. The king, however, performed his ob¬ sequies in the most magnificent manner; and the army threw up for him a monument of earth, of great extent, and four¬ score cubits high. His ashes were carried to the sea-shore, in a chariot and four, with the richest ornaments. When Alexander was upon the point of setting out for In¬ dia, he saw his troops were so laden with spoils that they were unfit to march. Therefore, early in the morning that he was to take his departure, after the carriages were assembled, he first set fire to his own baggage and that of his friends, and then gave orders that the rest should be served in the same manner. The resolution appeared more difficult to take than it was to execute. Few were displeased at it, and numbers re¬ ceived it with acclamations of joy. They freely gave part of their equipage to such as were in need, and burnt and destroy¬ ed whatever was superfluous. This greatly encouraged and fortified Alexander in his design. Besides, by this time he was become inflexibly severe in punishing offences. Menan¬ der, though one of his friends, he put to death for refusing to stay in a fortress he had given him the charge of; and one of the barbarians, named Osodates, he shot dead with an arrow, for the crim.e of rebellion. About this time a sheep yeaned a lamb with the perfect form and colour of a tiara upon its head, on each side of which were testicles. Looking upon the prodigy with horror, he employed the Chaldeans, wno attended him for such purposes, to purify him by their expiations. He told his friends, on this occasion ,—‘‘ That he was more troubled on their account than his own; for he was afraid that after his death fortune would throw the empire into the hands of some obscure and weak man.” A better omen, however, soon dissipated his fears. A Macedonian, named Proxenus, who had the charge of the king’s equipage, on opening^ the ground by the river Oxus, in order to pitch his master’s tent, discovered a spring of a gross oily li¬ quor; which, after tlie surface was taken off, came perfectly clear, and neither in taste nor smell difiered from real oil, nor was inferior to it in smoothness and brightness, though there were no oHves in that country. It is said, indeed, that the water * Strabo (lib. ii.) ascribes the sajne properties to the ground near the rivei ■Jehus. Indeed, the Ochus and the Oxus unite theii’ streams and ^ow to gether into the Caspian sea. V OL. 111. -2 P ALEXAXUEa a98 of the Oxus IS of so unctuous a quality, that it makes the skim of those who bathe in it smooth and shining.^ It appears, from a letter of Alexander’s to Antipater, tha'i he was greatly delighted with this incident, and reckoned it one of the happiest presages the gods had afforded him. The soothsayers said it betokened that the expedition would prove a glorious one, but at the same time laborious and difficult, be¬ cause heaven has given men oil to refresh them after their la¬ bours. Accordingly, he met with grea* dangers in the battles that he fought, and received very considerable wounds. But his army suffered most by want of necessaries, and by the cli- mahe. ror his part, he was ambitious to show that courage can triumph over fortune, and magnanimity over force: he thought nothing invincible to the brave, or impregnable to the bold.t Pursuant to this opinion, when he besieged Sisime- thresjf upon a rock extremely steep, and apparently inacces¬ sible, and saw his men greatly discouraged at the enterprise, he asked Oxyartes,—Whether Sisimethres were a man of spirit?” And being answered,—That he was timorous and dastardly,” he said,—You inform me the rock may be taken, since there is no strength in its defender.” In fact, he found means to intimidate Sisimethres, and made himself master of the fort. In the siege of another fort, situated in a place equally steep, among the young Macedonians that were to give the assault there was one called Alexander; and the king took occasion to say to him,—You must behave gallantly, my friend, to do justice to your name.” He was informed afterwards that the young man feH as he was distinguishing himself in a glorious manner, and he laid it much to heart. When he sat down before Nysa,§ the Macedonians made some difficulty of advancing to the attack, on account of the depth of the river, that washed its walls, till Alexander said —What a wretch am I, that I did not learn to swim,” and * Pliny tells us, that the surface of these rivers was a consistence of salt, and that the waters flowed under it as under a crust of ice. 'fhe salt consis¬ tence he imputes to the defluxions from the neighbouring moontains, but he says nothing of the unctuous quality of these waters mentioned by Plu¬ tarch.— Nat. Hist. lib. xxxi. •j One of the manuscripts, instead of ivTohuoig has a'toKfj.ui. Then the lat¬ ter member of the sentence would be, nr/r secure to the timoro^is. t 'Phis strong liold was situated in Bactriana. Strabo says it was fifteen furlongs high, as many in compass, and that the top was a fertile plain, capable of maintaining five hundred. It was in Bactriana tliat Alexander married Roxana tlie daughter of Oxyartes. ^ Arrian calls it Nyssa; so indeed does tlie Vulcob. MS. Thai historian places it near Mount Meris, and adds, that it was built by Uionysir.s or Bac¬ chus. Hence it had the name of Dionysiopolis. It is now calleu I^erg. f ALEXANDER. 29^ vva?. f:,oing to ford it with his shield in his hand. After tlie first assault, while the troops were refreshing themselves, am¬ bassadors came with an offer to capitulate; and along with, them were deputies from some other places. They were sur¬ prised to see him in armour, without any pomp or ceremony; and their astonishment increased, when he bade the oldest of the ambassadors, named Acuphis, take the sopha that was Drought for himself. Acuphis, struck with a benignity of re¬ ception so far beyond his hopes, asked what they must do to be admitted into his friendship? Alexander answered,—It must be on condition that they appoint you their governor, and send me a hundred of their best men for hostages.'^’ Acu¬ phis smiled at this, and said,—1 should govern better if you would take the worst instead of the best.’’ It is said, the dominions of Taxiles, in India,^ were as large as Egypt: they afforded excellent pasturage too, and were the most fertile in all respects. As he was a man of great pru¬ dence, he waited on Alexander, and after the first compli¬ ments, thus addressed him:—What occasion is there for wars between you and me, if you are not come to take from us our water and other necessaries of life; the only thing that reasonable men will take up arms for? As to gold and silver, and other possessions, if I am richer than you, I am willing to oblige you with part; if I am poorer, I have no objection to sharing in your bounty.” Charmed with his frankness, Alex¬ ander took his hand, and answered, Think you, then, with all this civility, to escape without a conflict? You are much- deceived if you do: I will dispute it with you to the last; but it shall be in favours and benefits; for I will not have you ex¬ ceed me in generosity.” Therefore, after having received great presents from him, and made greater, he said to him one evening, ‘‘ I drink to you, Taxiles, and as sure as you pledge me, you shall have a thousand talents.” His friends were of¬ fended at his giving away such immense sums, but it made many of the barbarians look upon him with a kinder eye. The most warlike of the Indians used to fight for pay. Upon this invasion they defended the cities that hired them with great vigour, and Alexander suffered by them not a little. To one of the cities he granted an honourable capitulation, and yet seized the mercenaries as they were upon their march homewards, and put them all to the sword. This is the only blot in his military conduct: all his other proceedings were agreeable to the laws of war, and worthy of a king.t * Between the Indus and the Flydaspes. f It was just and lawful, it seems, to g-o about harassing- and destroying rlmse nations that had never offended him. and upon which he had no claim. 300 ALEXANDER. The philosopners gave him no less trouble than the mem* naries, t3y endeavouring to fix a mark of infamy upon those princes that declared for him, and by exciting the free nations to take up arms; for vvhich reason he hanged many of them. As to his war with Porus, we have an account of it in his own letters. According to them, the river Ilydasj/es was be¬ tween the two armies, and Porus drew up his elephants on the banks opposite the enemy, with their heads towards the stream, to guard it. Alexander caused a great noise and bustle to be made every day in his camp, that the barbarians, being accus¬ tomed to it, might not be so ready to take the alarm.This done, he took the advantage of a dark and stormy night, with part of his infantry, and a select body of cavalry, to gain a lit- tie island in the river, at some distance from the Indians. When he was there, he and his troops were attacked with a most violent wind and rain, accompanied with dreadful thunder and lightning: but notwithstanding this hurricane, in which he saw several of his men perish by the lightning, he advanced from the island to the opposite bank. The Hydaspes, swelled with the rain, by its violence and rapidity made a breach on that side, which received water enough to form a bay, so that when he came to land, he found the bank extremely slippery, and the ground broken and undermined by the current. On this occasion he is said to have uttered that celebrated saying,— Will you believe, my Athenian friends, what dangers 1 un¬ dergo, to have you the heralds of my fame?’^ The last par¬ ticular we have from Onesicritus: but Alexander himself only says, they quitted their boats, and, armed as they were, waded up the breach breast high; and that wlien they were landed, he advanced with the horse twenty furlongs before the foot, concluding that if the enemy attacked him with their cavalry, he should be greatly their superior; and that if they made a movement with their infantry, his would come up time enough to receive them. Nor did he judge amiss. The enemy de¬ tached against him a thousand horse and sixty armed chariots, and he defeated them with ease. The chariots he took, and killed four hundred of the cavalry upon the spot. By this Porus understood that Alexander himself had passed the river, except that avowed by the nortliern barbarians, when they entered Italy, namely, that the weak naust siibmit to the strong. Indeed, those barbarians were much honester men, for tliey had another and better plea,—-they went to seek bread. * I'hc I.atin and French translators have both mistaken t’ne sense of tlii? passage is certainly capable of the sensf we have given it, and tlie context requires it should be so understood. See Arrian (1. v. Ed. St. p. 108, A. and B.) in support of that construction See also Curtlus, 1. viii. p. 263, Ed. Am. ALEXANDER. 301 and, therefore, btou^ht up his whole anuy, except what ap¬ peared necessary to Keep the rest of the Macedonians from making good their passage. Alexander considering the forct; of the elephants, and the enemy’s superior numbers, did not (ihoose to engage them in front, but attacked the left wing himself, while Coenus, according to his orders, fell upon the light. Both wings being broken, retired to the elephants in the centre, and rallied there. The combat then was of a more mixed kind; but maintained with such obstinacy, that it was not decided till the eighth hour of the day. This description of the battle we have from the conqueror himself, in one of Ids epistles. Most historians agree, that Porus was four cubits and a palm high; and that though the elephant he rode was one of the largest, his stature and bulk were such, that he appeared but nroportionably mounted. This elephant, during the whole oattle, gave extraordinary proofs of his sagacity and care of the king’s person. As long as that prince was able to fight, he defended him with great courage, and repulsed all assailants; and when he perceived him ready to sink under the multitude of darts and the wounds with which he was covered, to pre¬ vent his falling off, he kneeled down in the softest manner, and with his proboscis gently drew every dart out of his body. When Porus was taken prisoner, Alexander asked him,— How he desired to be treated?” He answered,—Like a king.” And have you nothing else to request?” replied Alexander. No,” said he; everything is comprehended in the word king.” Alexander not only restored him his own dominions immediately, which he was to govern as his lieu¬ tenant, but added very extensive tcrriiories to them; for hav¬ ing subdued a free country, which contained fifteen nations, five thousand considerable cities, and villages in proportion, he bestowed it on Porus.* Another country, three times as large, he gave to Philip, one of his friends, who was also tc act there as his lieutenant. In the battle with Porus, Buccphalus-t received several wounds, of which he died some time after. This is the ac¬ count most writers give us: but Onesicritus says he died of age and fatigue, for he was thirty year's old. Alexander sliow- ed as much regret as if he had lost a faithful friend and com¬ panion: he esteerneH him, indeed, as such; and built a city near *^ome transcriber seems to have g-iven ns the number of inliabitants in ^•‘ne city for the number of cities. Arrian’s account is this;—“lie took \hirty-seven cities, the least of whicli contained hve tliousand inhubiiants, and several of them above ten thousand. He took also a g-reat number of villages not less populous than the cities, and gave tlie government of ti\e country to Porus.” ¥ 26 302 ALEXANDKH. the Hyclaspes, in the place where he vva? buried, w\ ich called, after him, Bucephalia. He is also reported to have built a city, and called it Peritas, in memory of a dos: of that name, which he had brought up and was very fond of. Thi^ particular Sotio says he had from Potamo of Lesbos. The combat with Porus abated the spirit of the Macedoni ans, and made them resolve to proceed no farther in India. It was with difficulty they had defeated an enemy who brought only twenty thousand foot and two thousand horse into the field; and, therefore they opposed Alexander with great firm¬ ness, when he insisted that they should pass the Ganges,^ which, they were informed, was thirty-two furlongs in breadtl), and in depth a hundred fathoms. The opposite shore, too, was covered with numbers of squadrons, battalions and ele¬ phants: for the kings of the Gandarites and Praesians were said to be waiting for them there, with eighty thousand horse, two hundred thousand foot, eight thousand chariots, and six thou¬ sand elephants trained to wai‘. Nor is this number at all mag¬ nified: for Androcottus, who reigned not long after, made Se- leucus a present of five hundred elephants at one time,t and with an army of six hundred thousand men traversed India, and conquered the whole. Alexander's grief and indignation at this refusal were such, that at first he shut himself up in his tent, and lay prostrate on the ground, declaring ,—“ He did not thank the Macedonians in the least for what they had done, if they would not pass the Ganges; for he considered a retreat as no other than an ac¬ knowledgment that he was overcome.^’ His friends omitted nothing that might comfort him; and at last their remon¬ strances, together with the cries and tears of the soldiers, who were suppliants at his door, melted him and prevailed on him to return. However, he first contrived many vain and so¬ phistical things to serve the purposes of fame; among which were arms much bigger than his men could use, and higher mangers, and heavier oits'than his horses required, left scat¬ tered up and dowlO. He built also great altars, for which the Prsesians still retain much veneration, and their kings cross the Ganges every year to offer sacrifices in the Grecian man¬ ner uj>on them. Androcottus, who was then very young, had a sight of Alexander, and he is reported to have often said af¬ terwards,—That Alexander was within a little of making himself master of all the country; with such hatred and contempt * The Ganges is the largest of all the rivers in the three continents, the Indus the second, the Nile the tlilrd, and tlie Danube tlie fourth. •j- Dacier sa}s Jive thousand^ but does not mention his authority. Perhap®. H was only a slip in the writing or in the printing. ALEXAKDEH. 30iS was tne reigning prince looked upon, on account of his profli gacy of manners, and meanness of birth.’’ Alexander, in his march from thence, formed a design to see the ocean; for which purpose he caused a number of row-boats and rafts to be constructed, and, upon them, fell down the rivers at his leisure. Nor was this navigation unattended with hostilities. He made several descents by the vvay, and attack¬ ed the adjacent cities, which were all forced to submit to his victorious arms. However, he was very near being cut in pieces by the Malli, who are called the most warlike people in India. He had driven some of them from the wall with his missive weapons, and was the first man that ascended it. But presently after he was up, the scaling-ladder broke. Finding himself and his small company* much galled by the darts of the barbarians from below, he poised himself and leaped down into the midst of the enemy. By good fortune he fell upon his feet; and the barbarians were so astonished at the flashing of his arms as he came down, that they thought they beheld lightning, or some supernatural splendour issuing from his body. At first, therefore, they drew back and dispersed: but when they had recollected themselves, and saw him attended only by two of his guards, they attacked him hand to hand, and wounded him through his armour with their swords and spears, notwithstanding the valour with which he fought. One of them standing farther off drew an arrow with such strength, that it made its way through his cuirass, and entered the ribs under the breast. Its force was so great, that he gave back, and was brought upon his knees, and the barbarian ran up with his drawn cimeter to despatch him. Peucestasand Lim- naeust placed themselves before him, but the one was wound¬ ed and the other killed. Peucestas, who survived, was still making some resistance, when Alexander recovered himself and laid the barbarian at his feet. The king, however, receiv¬ ed new wounds; and at last, had such a blow from a bludgeon upon hiS neck, that he was forced to support himself by the wall, and there stood with his face to the enemy. The Mace¬ donians, who by this time had got in, gathered about him, and carried him off to his tent. His senses were gone, and it was the current report in the army that he was dead. When they had with great difficulty sawed off the shaft, which was of wood, and with equal trou¬ ble had taken off the cuirass, they proceeded to extract the l ead, which was three fingers broad, and four long, and stuck * Tlie word implies that he was not auite alone; and it appears ira mediately after that iie was not. ^ Q. Curtins calls him Tim^eus. 304 ALEXANDEH fast in the bone. He fainted under the operation, and trw very near expiring; but when the head was got out he came to himself. Yet after the danger was over, he continued weak, and a long time confined himself to a regular diet, attending solely to the cure of his wound. The Macedonians could not hear to be so long deprived of the sight of their king; they assembled in a tumultuous manner about his tent. When he perceived this, he put on his robe, and made his appearance, nut as he had sacrificed to the gods, he retired again. As he \vas on his way to the place of his destination,* though carriecl in a litter, by the water side, he subdued a large tract of land, and many respectable cities. In the course of this expedition he took ten of the Gym- nosophists^'\ who had been principally concerned in instigating Sahhas to revolt, and had brought numberless other troubles upon the Macedonians. As these ten wei*e reckoned the most acute and concise in their answers, he put the luost diificuit questions to them that could be thought of, and at the same time declared he would put the first person that answered wrong to death, and after him all the rest. The oldest man among them was to he the judge. He demanded of the first, Which were most numerous, the living or the dead?’’ He answered,—The living; for the dead no longer exist.’’J The second was asked,—Whether the earth or the sea pro¬ duced the largest animals?” He answered ,—“ The earth; for the sea is part of it.” The third,—Which was the craftiest of all animals?”. That,” said he, “ with which man is not yet acquainted.”§ The fourth,— What was his reason for persuading Sahhas to revolt?” “ Because,” said he, ‘‘ I wished him either to live with honour, or to die as a coward deserves.”|| •[• These pliilosophers, so called from their going* naked, were divided into two sects, the Brachmani and the Germani. I'he Braclimani were most esteemed, because there was a consistency in their principles. Apuleius tells us, that not only the scholars, but the younger pupils, were assembled about dinner-time, and examined what good they had done that day; and such as could not point out some act of humanity, or useful pursuit that they had been engaged in, were not allowed any dinner. ^ They did not hold the mortality, but the transmigration of tlie soul. § This we suppose to mean man himself, as not being acquainted wiUi fcimself. H One of the manuscripts gives us k'jlxcoc here, instead of Then 1h e sense will be,—“ Because I wished him either to live or die with ho¬ nour.” Which we can not but prefer; for he who has regard enough for a man to wish him to live with honour, can net be so envious as to wish him to die \rith dishonour. At the same time, we agree with Moses Du Soul, that -ome archness n mtended in most of the answers; but what archness AJ.EXANDER. 305 The fifth had this question put to him,—Which do you think oldest, the day or the night?’’ He answered,—'I'he day, by one day.” As the king appeared surprised at this solution, the philosopher told him,—Abstruse questions must have abstruse answers.” Then addressing himself to the sixth, he demanded,— What are the best means for a man to make himself loved?” He answered,—If possessed of great power, do not make yourself feared.” The seventh was asked ,—‘‘ How a man might become a god?” He answered,—“ By doing what is impossible for m_an to do.” The eighth ,—‘‘ Which is strongest, life or death?” Life,” said he, because it bears so many evils.” The last question that he put, was,—How long is it good for a man to live?” “ As long,” said the philosopher, as he does not prefer death to life.” Then turning to the judge, he ordered him to give sentence. The old man said,—‘On my opinion they have all answered one worse than another.” “ If this is thy judgment,” said Alexander, “ thou shalt die first.” “ No,” replied the philo¬ sopher, “ not excent you choose to break your word; for you declared the man tliat answered worst should first suffer.’^ The king loaded them with presents, and dismissed them After which he sent Onesieritus, a disciple of Diogenes, tc the other Indian sages who were of most reputation, and lived a retired life, to desire them to come to him. Onesieritus tells us, Calanus treated him with great insolence and harshness, bidding him to strip himself naked, if lie desired to hear any of his doctrine;—“ You sliould not hear me on any other con¬ dition,” said he, “though you came from Jupiter himself.” Dandamis behaved with more civility; and when Onesieritus had given him an account of Pythagoras, Socrates, and Dio¬ genes, he said,—“They appeared to him to have, been men of genius, but to have lived with too passive a regard to the h aws. Others say Dandamis entered into no discourse with the messenger, but only asked,—Why Alexander had taken so long a journey?” As to Calanus, it is certain, Taxiles pre¬ vailed with him to go to Alexander. His true name was Sphinos; but because he addressed them with the word 6V//c, which is the Indian form of salutation, the Greeks called him Calanus. This philosopher, we are told, presented Alexander with a good image of his empire. He laid a dry and shrivel- there in tliis, as it is commonly translated, Because. I wished him eiilter to lit't >ujnourably, or to die miserable. VoL. Ill -2Q 26 * 306 ALEXANDER. led hide before him, and first trode ipon the edges of it: this he did all round; and as he trode on one side it started u]) on the other. At last he fixed his feet on the middle, and then it lay still. By this emblem he showed him, that he should fix his residence, and plant his principal force, in the heart of his empire, and not wander to the extremities. Alexander spent seven months in falling down the rivers to the ocean. When he arrived there, he embarked, and sailed to an island which he called Scilloustis,^' but others call it Psiltoucis. There he landed and sacrificed to the gods. He .‘ikewise considered the nature of the sea, and of the coast, as far as it was accessil)le. And after having besought heaven, —That no man might ever reach beyond tlie bounds of his expedition,” he prepared to set cut on his way back. He ap¬ pointed Nearchus admiral, and Onesicritus chief pilot, and or¬ dered his fleet to sail round, keeping India on the right. With the rest of his forces he returned by land, through the country of the Orites; in which he was reduced to such extremities, and lost such numbers of men, that he did not bring back from India above a fourth part of the army he entered it with, which was no less than a hundred and twenty thousand foot, and fifteen thousand horse. Violent distempers, ill diet, and ex¬ cessive heats, destroyed multitudes; but famine made still greater ravages: for it was a barren and uncultivated country; the natives lived miserably, having nothing to subsist on bul a few bad sheep, which used to feed on the fish thrown-up by the sea; consequently they were poor; and their flesh of a bad flavour. With much difficulty he traversed this country in sixty days, and then arrived at Gedrosia. There he fcand piovisions in abundance; for, besides that the land is fertde in itself, the neighbouring princes and grandees supplied him. After lie had given his army some time to refresh theinselves, he march¬ ed in Carmania seven days, in a kind of Bacchanalian pro¬ cession. His chariot, which was very magnifice»it, was drawn by eight horses. Upon it was placed a lofty platform, where he and his principal friends revelled day and night. This car¬ riage was followed by manv others, some covered with rich tapestry and purple hangings, and others shaded with branch¬ es of trees, fresh gathered and flourishing, in trm.se were the rest of the king’s friends and generals, crowned with flow^ers. and exhilarated with wine. In this whole compan}^ there was not to be seen a buckler, a helmet, or spear; but, iustead of them, cups, flagons, and gob- * Arrian here calls it Cilluta. Here ihey first observed the ebbing* and flowing of the sea, which surprised thorn not a little ALKXAN13ER. 307 U^ts. These the soldiers dipped in huge vessels of wine, and drank to each other, some as they marched along, and others seated at tables, which were placed at proper distances on the way. The whole country resounded with flutes, clarionets, and songs, and with the dances and riotous frolics of tlie wo¬ men. This disorderly and dissolute march was closed with a very immodest figure,"^ and with all the licentious ribaldry of the Bacchanals, as if Bacchus himself had been present to car¬ ry on the debauch. When Alexander arrived at the royal palace of Gedrosia.'t he gave his army time to refresh themselves again, and enter¬ tained them with feasts and public spectacles. At one of these, in which the choruses disputed the prize of dancing, he ap- . peared inflamed with wine. His favourite Bagoas happening to win it, crossed the theatre in his habit of ceremony, and seated himself by the king. The Macedonians expressed their satisfaction with loud plaudits, and called out to the king to kiss him, with which at last he complied. Nearchus joined him again here, and he was so much delight¬ ed with the account of his voyage, that he formed a design to sail in person from the Euphrates with a great fleet, circle the coast of Arabia and Africa, and enter tbe Mediterranean by tbe Pillars of Hercules. For this purpose he constructed, at Thapsacus, a number of vessels of all sorts, and collected ma¬ riners and pilots. But the report of the difficulties be had met with in his Indian expedition, particularly in his attack of the Malli, his great loss of men in the country of the Orites, and the supposition he would never return alive from the vmvage he now meditated, excited his new subjects to revolt, and put his generals and governors of provinces upon displaying their injustice, insolence, and avarice. In short the whole empire was in commotion, and ripe for rebellion. Olympias and Cleo¬ patra, leaguing against x\ntipater, had seized his hereditary dominions, and divided them between them. Olympias took Fjplrus, and Cleopatra Macedonia: the tidings of which being brought to Alexander, he said,—His mother had considered rigiit; for the Macedonians would never bear to be governed by a woman. .In consequence of this unsettled state of things, he sent Nearchus again to sea, having determined to carry the war into the maritime provinces. Meantime he marched in person to * M. le Fevre (in his notes ii]jon Anitcreon) seems to have restored the g*eniiine reading’of tliis passag'e, by proposing" to read, instead of 0 or otf A/.a?. t Gedrosia is certain!} corrupt. Probably we sliould read Carmenia. Bate*/ Miov sig'nifies a capital civy, as well as a royal palace; because princes gene rallv reside in their capitals. 1^08 ALEXANDER. chastise his lieutenants for their misdemeanors. Oxyartes^ one of the sons of Abulites, he killed with his own hand by a stroke of his javelin. Abulites had laid in no provisions foi him; he had only collected three thousand talents in money. Upon his presenting this, Alexander bade him ofl'er it to his horses; and as they did not touch it, he said,—Of what use will this provision now be to me?’’ and immediately ordered Abulites to be taken into custody. The first thing he did after he entered Persia, was to give this money to the matrons, according to the ancient custom of the kings, who, upon their return from any excursion to their l^ersian dominions, used to give ever}^ woman a piece of gold. For this reason several of them, we are told, made it a rule to return but seldom; and Ochus never did; be banished himself to save his money. Having found the tomb of Cyrus broken open, he put the author of that sacrilege to death, though a native of Pella, and a person of some distinction. His name was Polymachus. After he had read the epitaph, which was in the Persian language, he ordered it to be inscribed also in Greek. It was as follows:—0 man! whosoever thou art, AND whencesoever THOU COMEST, (fOR COME I KNOW THOU WILT,) I AM CYRUS, THE FOUNDER OF THE PERSIAN EMPIRE. Envy me not the little earth that covers my body. Alexander was much affected at these words, which placed before him in so strong a light the uncertainty and vicissitude of things. It was here that Calanus, after having been disordered a little while with the cholic, desired to have his funeral pile erected. He approached it on horseback, offered up his pray¬ ers to heaven, poured the libations upon himself, cut off part of his hair,^ and threw it on the fire; and before he ascended the pile, took leave of the Macedonians, desiring them to spend the day in jollity and drinking with the king;—for 1 shall see him,” said he, in a little time at Babylon.” So saying, he stretched himself upon the pile, and covered himself up. Nor did he move at the approach of the flames, but remained in the same posture till he had finished Ills sacrifice, according to the custom of the usages of his country. Alany years af¬ ter, another Indian did the same before Augustus Caesar at Athens, whose tomb is shown to this day, and called the In¬ dian's tomb, Alexander, as soon as he retired from the funeral pile, in¬ vited his friends and officers to supper, and, to give life to tlie carousal, promised that the man who drank most should oe crowned for his victory. Promachus drank four measures of * As some of the hair used to be jut from die forehead of victims. ALEXANDER. 309 wine,* and carried off the crown, which was worth a talent^ out survived it only three days. The rest of the guests, as Chares tells us, drank to such a degree, that forty-one of them lost their lives, the weather coming upon them extremely cold during their intoxication. When he arrived at Susa, he married his friends to Persian ladies. He set them the example, by taking Statira, the daugh¬ ter of Darius, to wife, and then distributed among his princi¬ pal officers the virgins of highest quality. As for those Ma¬ cedonians, who had already married in Persia, he made a ge¬ neral entertainment m commemoration of their nuptials. It is isaid, that no less than nine thousand guests sat down, and yet he presented each with a golden cup for performing the liba¬ tion. Every thing else was conducted with the utmost mag¬ nificence; he even paid off all their debts; insomuch that the whole expense amounted to nine thousand eight hundred and seventy talents. An officer, who had but one eye, named Antigenes, put himself upon this list of debtors, and produced a person who declared he was so much in his books. Alexander paid the money; but afterwards discovering the fraud, in his anger for¬ bade him the court, and took away his commission. There was no fault to be found with him as a soldier. He had dis¬ tinguished himself in his youth under Philip, at the siege of Perinthus, where he was wounded in the eye, with a dart shot from one of the engines; and yet he would neither sufi'er it to be taken out nor quit the field till he had repulsed the enemy, and forced them to retire into the town. The poor wretch could not bear the disgrace he had now brought upon himself; his grief and despair were so great, that it was apprehended he would put an end to his own life. To prevent such a catas¬ trophe, the king forgave him, and ordered liim to keep the money. The thirty thousand boys whom he left under proper mas¬ ters, were now grown so much, and made so handsome an ap¬ pearance, and, what was of more importance, had gained such an activity and address in their exercises, that he was greatl}.^ delighted with them. But it was matter of uneasiness to the Macedonians; they were apprehensive that the king would iiave less regard for them. Therefore, when he gave the in¬ valids their route to the sea, in order to their return, the whole army considered it as an injurious and oppressive measure;-- He ha'3 availed himself,’’ said they, “ oeyond all reason, of ihelr services, and now he sends them back with disgrace, and ‘urns them upon the hands of their country and their parents, About fouiteen quarts. The Chti^ was six pints nine-tentlis. 310 Ai^EXANDER. in a very different condition from that in which he re;;eivecJ them. Why does he not dismiss us all? Why does he no reckon all the Macedonians incapable of service, now he ha.*' got this body of young dancers? Let him go with them ano conquer the world.’’ Alexander, incensed at this mutinous behaviour, loaded them with reproaches, and ordering them off, took Persians for his guards, and filled up other offices with them. When they saw tneir king with these new attendants, and themselves rejected and spurned with dishonour, they were greatly humbled. They lamented their fate to each other, and were almost frantic with jealousy and anger. At last, coming to themselves, they repaired to the king’s tent, without arms, in one thin garment only, and with tears and lamentations delivered themselves up to his vengeance, desiring he would treat them as ungrateful men deserved. He was softened with their complaints, but would not ap pear to hearken to them. They stood two days and nights be¬ moaning themselves in this manner, and calling for their dear master. The third day he came out to them; and when he saw their forlorn condition, he wept a long time. After a gentle rebuke for their misbehaviour, he condescended to converse with them in a freer manner, and such as were unfit for ser vice, he sent away with magnificent presents. At the same time, he signified his pleasure to Antipater, that at all public diversions they should have the most honourable seats in the theatres, and wear chaplets of flowers there; and that the chil¬ dren of those who had lost their lives in his service, should have their father’s pay continued to them. When he came to Ecbatana in Media, and had despatched the most urgent affairs, he employed himself again in the cele¬ bration of games and other public solemnities; for which pur¬ pose three thousand artificers, lately arrived from Greece, were very serviceable to him. But unfortunately Hephaestion fell sick of a fever in the midst of this festivity. As a young man and a soldier, he could not bear to be kept to strict diet; and taking the opportunity to dine when his physician Glaucus was gone to the theatre, he ate a roasted fowl, and drank a flagon of wine made as cold as possible; in consequence of which he grew worse, and died a few days after. Alexander’s grief on this occasion exceeded all bounds Ho immediately ordered the horses and mules to be shorn that they might have their share in the mourning, and with the ^arne view pulled down the battlements of the neighbouring cities. The poor physician he crucified. He forbade the flute and all other music in his camp for a long time. This continued till he received an oracle from Jupiter Ammon, which enjoined ALEXANDER. 311 him to revere Hephaestion, and sacrifice to him as a demi-god After this he sought to relieve his sorrows by hunting, or ra* ther by war; for his game were men. In this expedition he conquered the Cusseans, and put all that were come to years of puberty to the sword. This he called a sacrifice to the manes of Hephaestion! He designed to lay out ten thousand talents upon his tomb and the monumental ornaments; and that the workmanship, as well as design, should exceed the expense, great as it was. He, therefore, desired to have Stasicrates for his architect, who'se genius promised a happy boldness and grandeur in every thing that he planned. This was the man wno had told him, some time before, that Mount Athos in Thrace was most capable of being cut into a human figure: and that, if he had but his orders, he would convert it into a statue for him, the most lasting and conspicuous in the world: a statue which snould have a city with ten thousand inhabitants in its left hand, and a river that flowed to the sea with a strong current in its right. He did not, however, embrace that proposal, though at that time he busied himself with his architects in contriving and laying out even more absurd and expensive designs. As he was advancing towards Babylon, Nearchus, who was returned from his expedition on the ocean, and come up the Euphrates, declared he had been applied to, by some Chal- daeans, who were strongly of opinion that Alexander should not enter Babylon: but he slighted the warning, and continued his march. Upon h?;: approach to the walls, he saw a great number of crows fighting, some of which fell down dead at his feet. Soon after this^ being informed that Apollodorus, go¬ vernor of Babylon, had sacrificed, in order to consult the gods concerning him, he sent for Pythagoras the diviner: and, as he did not deny the fact, asked him how the entrails of the victim appeared. Pythagoras answered, the liver was withou/*. a head. “ A terrible presage, indeed!’’ said Alexander. He let Pythagoras go with impunity: but by this time he was sorry he had not listened to Nearchus. He lived mostly in his pa¬ vilion without the walls, and diverted himself with sailing up and down the Euphrates: for there had happened several other ill omens that much disturbed him. One of the largest and handsomest lions that were kept in Babylon, was attacked and kicked to death by an ass. One day he stripped for the re¬ freshment of oil, and to play at ball: after the diversion was over, the young men who played with him, going to fetch his clothes, beheld a man sitting in profound silence on his throne, dressed in the royal robes, with the diadem upon his head. They demanded who he was, and it was a longtime before he 312 Al EXANDER. wojld answer: at last, coming to himself, he said,—My name is Dionysius, and I am a native of Messene. Upon a criminal process against me, I left the place, and embarked for Babylon; there I have been kept a long time in chains; but this day the god Serapis appeared to me, and broke my chains; after which he conducted me hither, and ordered me to put on this robe and diadem, and sit here in silence.’’ After the man had thus explained himself, Alexander, bv the advice of his soothsayers, put him to death. But the an¬ guish of his mind increased; on one hand, he almost despaired of the succours of heaven, and, on the other, distrusted his friends. He was most afraid of Anti pater and his sons; one of which, named lolaus,^ with his cup-bearer, the other, nam¬ ed Cassander, was lately arrived from Macedonia; and hap¬ pening to see some barbarians prostrate themselves before the king, like a man accustomed only to the Grecian manners, and a stranger to such a sight, he burst out into a loud laugh.’ Alexander, enraged at tbe affront, seized him by the hair, and with both hands dashed his head against the wall. Cassander afterwards attempted to vindicate bis father against his accu¬ sers, which greatly irritated the king.—What is this talk of thine?” said be; dost thou think that men who had suffered no injury would come so far to bring a false charge?” Their coming so far,” replied Cassander, is an argument that the charge is false, because they are at a distance from those who are able to contradict them.” At this Alexander smiled, and said,—These are some of Aristotle’s sophisms, which make equally for either side of the question. But be assured I will make you repent it, if these men have had the least Injustice done tliem.” This, and other menaces, left such a terror upon Cassander, and made so lasting an im))ression upon his mind, that many years after, when king of Macedon, and master of all Greece, as he was walking about at Delphi, and taking a view of the statues, the sudden sight of that of Alexander is said to have struck him with such horror, that he trembled all over, and it was with difficulty he recovered of the giddiness it caused in his brain. When Alexander had once given himself up to superstition, his mind was so preyed upon by vain fears and anxieties, that he turned the least incident, which was any thing strange and out of the way, into a sign or prodigy. The court swarmed with sacrificers, purifiers, and prognosticators: they were all to be seen exercising their talents there. So true it is, that though the disbelief of religion, and contempt of things di * Arrian and Curtins call him Tollas. Plutarch calls him below. ALEXANDER, 313 vmfe, IS a great evil, yet superstition is a gre\ter; for, as wa- cer gains upqn low grounds,^ so superstition prevails over a dej ected mind, and fills it with fear and folly. This was en¬ tirely Alexander’s case. However, upon the receipt of some oracles concerning Hephaestion, from the god he commonly consulted, he gave a truce to his sorrows, and employed him self in festive sacrifices and entertainments. One day, after he had given Nearchus a sumptuous treat, he went, according to custom, to refresh himself in the bath, in order to retire to rest. But, in the meantime, Medius came and invited him to take part in a carousal, and he could not deny him. There he drank all that night and the next day, till at last he found a fever coming upon him. It did not, however, seize him as he was drinking the cup of Hercules; nor did he find a sudden pain in his back, as if it had been pierced with a spear. These are circumstances invented by writers, who thought the catastrophe of so noble a tragedy should be something aftecting and extraordinary. Aristobulus tells us, that in the rage of his fever, and the violence of thirst, he took a draught of wine, which threw him into a frenzy, and that he died the thirtieth of the month DaBsius^ June. But in his journals, the account of his sickness is as fol¬ lows:—On the eighteenth of the month Daesius, finding the fever upon him, he lay in his bath-room. The next day, after he had bathed, he removed into his own chamber, and played many hours with Medius at dice. In the evening he bathed again, and after having sacrificed to the gods, he ate his sup¬ per. In the night the fever returned. The twentieth he also bathed, and, after the customary sacrifice, sat in the bath¬ room, and diverted himself with hearing Nearchus tell the story of his voyage, and all that was most observable with re¬ spect to the ocean. The twenty-first was spent in the same manner. The fever increased, and he had a very bad night. The twenty-second the fever was violent. He ordered his bed to be removed, and placed by the great bath. There lie talked to his generals about the vacancies in his army, and de¬ sired they might be filled up with experienced officers. Tiie twenty-fourth lie was much worse. He chose, however, to be carried to assist at the sacrifice. He likewise gave orders, that the principal officers of the army should wait within the court, and the officers keep watch all night without. The twenty- * he text in tins place is corrupt. For the sake of those readers who have not Bryan’s edition of the Greek, we shall give the emendation which the learned Moses du Sold proposes:- yi S'i.vtS'Juu.oyiu.^ i/ZstTcc ctu to Tell KATANTF.2 ’PEOTJSA, Kelt tov Aht^rtytt^or ANF.- nAHPOT. V"oL. HI. -2 R 2 7 314 ALEXANDER. fifth he was removed to his palace, on the othei sidf/ of th^. river, where he slept a little, but the fever did not abate, and when his generals entered the room, he was speechless. He continued so the day following. The Macedonians, by this time, thinking he was dead, came to the gates with great cla mour, and threatened the great officers in such a manner, that they were forced to admit them, and suffer them all to pass un¬ armed by the bed-side. The twenty-seventh. Python and Se- leucus were sent to the temple of Serapis, to inquire w nether he should carry Alexander thither, and the deity ordered that they should not remove him. The twenty-eighth in the eve¬ ning he died.’’ These particulars are taken, almost word for word from his diary. There was no suspicion of poison at the time of his death, but six years after (we are told) Olympias, upon some infor¬ mation, put a number of people to death, and ordered the re¬ mains of lolas, who was supposed to have given him the draught, to be dug out of the grave. Those who say Aristotle advised Antipater to such a horrid deed, and furnished him wdth the poison he sent to Babylon, allege one Agnothemis as their author, who is pretended to have had the information from king Antigonus. They add, that the poison was a water of a cold and deadly quality,^ which distils from a rock in the territory of Nonacris; and that they receive it as they would do so many dew-drops, and keep it in an ass’s hoof, its extreme coldness and acrimony being such, that it makes its wray through all other vessels. The generality, however, look upon the story of the poison as a mere fable; and they have this strong argument in their favour, that, though, on account of the disputes which the great offi¬ cers were engaged in for many days, the body lay unembalm¬ ed,'!’ in a sultry place, it had no sign of any such taint, but con¬ tinued fresh ana clear. Roxana was now pregnant, and, therefore, had great atten¬ tion paid her by the Macedonians. But being extremely jeal¬ ous of Statira, she laid a snare for her, by a forged letter, as from Alexander; and having, by this means, got her into her power, she sacrificed both her arid her sister, and threw theii nodies into a well, which she filled up with earth. Perdiccas was her accomplice in this murder. Indeed, he had now the principal power, which he exercised in the name of Aridseus, whom he treated rather as a screen thar as a king. Aridaeus was the son of Philip, by a courtesan named Phi- linna, a woman of low birth. His deficiency in understanding, * Hence'it was called the Stygian Water. Nonacris was a city of Arcadia. ALEXANDER. 315 was the consequence of a distemper, in which neither nature nor accident had any share: for, it is said, there was something amiable and great in him when a boy; which Olympias per¬ ceiving, gave him potions that disturbed his brain.* * Portraits of the same person, taken at different periods of life, thoug'h they differ greatly from each other, retain a resemblance upon the whole. And so it is in general with the characters of men. But Alexander seems to be an exception; for nothing can admit of greater dissimilarity than that which entered into his disposition at different times, and in different cir¬ cumstances. He was brave and pusillanimous, merciful and cruel, modest and vain, abstemious and luxurious, rational and superstitious, polite and overbearing, pohtic and imprudent. Nor were these changes casual or temporary: the style of his character underwent a total revolution, and he passed from virtue to vice, in a regular and progressive manner. Munifi¬ cence and pride were the only characteristics that never forsook him. If there were any vice of which he was incapaoie, it was avarice; if any virtue, it was hunaility. THE LIFE OF JULIUS CiESAR. When Sylla had made himself master of Rome^^ he endea¬ voured to brin^ Caesar to repudiate Cornelia, daug;hter to Cin- ia, one of the late tyrants: and finding he could not effect it, either by hopes or fears,t he confiscated her dowry. Indaed, Caesar, as a relation to Marius, was naturally an enemy to Sylla. Old Marius had married Julia, Caesar’s aunt; and, therefore, young Marius, the son he had by her, was Caesar’s cousin-german. At first, Sylla, amidst the vast number of proscriptions that engaged his attention, overlooked this ene¬ my; but Caesar, not content with escaping so, presented himself to the people as a candidate for the priesthood,± though he was not yet come to years of maturity. exerted his influence against him, and he miscarried. The dictator afterwards thought of having him taken off’; and when some said, there was no need to put such a boy to death, he answered,— Their sagacity was small, if they did not, in that boy, see many Mariuses.” This saying being reported to Caesar, he concealed himself a long time, wandering up and down in the country of the Sabines. Amidst his movements from house to house, he fell sick, and, on that account, was forced to be carried on a litter. The soldiers employed by Sylla to search those parts, and drag the proscribed persons from their retreats, one night fell in with him; but Cornelius, who commanded them, was pre¬ vailed on, by a bribe of two talents, to let him go. He then hastened to sea, and sailed to Bithynia, where he * Some imag-ine, that the beginning* of this Life is lost; but if they look back to the introduction to the life of Alexander, that notion will vanish. ■j" Caesar would not make such a sacrifice to the dictator as Piso had done, who, at his command, divorced his wife Annia. Pompey, too, for the sake of Sylla’s alliance, repudiated Antistia. + Caesar had the priesthood before Sylla was dictator. In the seventeenth year of his age, he broke his engagement to Cossutia, though she was of a consular and opulent family, and married Cornelia the daughter pf Cinna, by whose interest, and that of Marius, he was created Flamen DialiSy or Priest of Jupiter. Sylla, when absolute master of Rome, insisted on hia divorcing Cornelia, and, upon his refusal, deprived him of that office.— button, in JiUio, JULIUS CiESAR. 31T ROiic;Vit protection of Nicomedes the king. His stay, however, with him was not long. He re-embarked, and was taken, near the isle of Pharmacusa, by pirates, who were masters of that sea, and blocked up all the passages with a number of galleys and other vessels. They asked him only twenty talents for his ransom. He laughed at their demand, as the consequence of their not knowing him, and promised them fifty talents. To raise the money, he despatched his people to different cities, and, in the meantime, remained with only one friend and two attendants among these Cilicians, who considered murder as a trifle. Caesar, however, held them in great contempt, and used to send, whenever he went to sleep, and order them to keep silence. Thus he lived among them thirty-eight days, as if they had been his guards, rather than his keepers. Per¬ fectly fearless and secure, he joined in their diversions, and took his exercises among them. He wrote poems and ora¬ tions, and rehearsed them to these pirates; and when they ex¬ pressed no admiration, he called them dunces and barbarians. Nay, he often threatened to crucify them. They were de¬ lighted with these freedoms, which they imputed to his frank and facetious vein. But as soon as the money was brought from Miletus, and he had recovered his liberty, he manned some vessels in the port of Miletus,^ in order to attack these corsairs. He found them still lying at anchor by the island, took most of them, together with the money, and imprisoned them at Pergamus. After which he applied to Junius, who then commanded in Asia, because to him, as praetor, it belong¬ ed to punish tliem. Junius having an eye upon the money, which was a considerable sum, demurred about the matter; and Caesar, perceiving his intention, returned to Pergamus, and crucified all the prisoners, as he had often threatened to do at Pharmacusa, when they took him to be in jest. When the power of Sylla came to be upon the decline, Caesar’s friends pressed him to return to Rome. But first he went to Rhodes, to study under Apollonius the son of Molo,t • Dacier reads Melos, which \vas one of the Cyclades, but does not men* tion his authoritv. ■j" 11 sliould be JifoUomus Molo, not Apollonius the son of Molo. Accord¬ ing* to Suetonius, Caesar had studied under him at Rome, before this adven* ture of the pirates. Thus far Dacier; and Ruauld and other critics say tlje same. Yet Strabo (1. xiv. p. 655, 660, 661) tells us, Molo an(^ Apollonius were two different men. He affirms that thev were both natives of Alabanda, a city of Caria; that they were both scholars of Menacles the Alabandian; and that they both professed the same art at Rhodes, thoug'h Molo went thither later than Apollonius, who on that account applied to him that passage of Homer, O^t Moaak/. Cicero, likewise, seems to distinguish them, calling the one Molo, and tlie other Apollonius the Alabandian, especially in his first book Dt Oratore, where he introduces M. Antonins speaking of him tluis:-— JULIUS C.ESAR. 318 who taught rhetoric there with great reputation, and was $ man of irreproachable manners. Cicero, also, was one of his scholars. Caesar is said to have had happy talents from nature for a public speaker, and he did not want an ambition to cul¬ tivate them; so that, undoubtedly, he was the second orator in Rome; and he might have been the first, had he not rather chosen the pre-eminence in arms. Thus he never rose to that pitch of eloquence to which his powers would have brought iiim, being engaged in those wars and political intrigues, which, at last, gained him the empire. Hence it was, that af terwards, in his Anti-Cato^ which he wrote in answer to a book df Cicero’s, he desired his readers,—Not to expect, in the performance of a military man, the style of a complete orator, who had bestowed all his time upon such studies.” Upon his return to Rome, he impeached Dolabella for mis¬ demeanours in his government, and many cities of Greece sup¬ ported the charge by their evidence. Dolabella was acquitted. Caesar, however, in acknowledgment of the readiness Greece had shown to serve him, assisted her in her prosecution o Publius Antonius for corruption. The cause was brought be¬ fore Marcus Lucullus, praetor of Macedonia; and Caesar plead¬ ed it in so powerful a manner, that the defendant was forced to appeal to the tribunes of the people; alleging, that he was not upon equal terms with the Greeks in Greece. The eloquence he showed at Rome in defending persons impeached, gained him a considerable interest; and bis en¬ gaging address and conversation carried the hearts of the peo¬ ple: for he had a condescension not to be expected from so young a man. At the same time, the freedom of his table, and the magnificence of his expense, gradually increased his power, and brought him into the administration. Those who envied him imagined that his resources would soon fail, and, therefore, at first, made light of his populai’ity, considerable as it was. But when it was grown to such a height that it was scarce possible to demolish it, and had a plain tendency to the ruin of the constitution, they found out, when it was too late, that no beginnings of things, however small, are to be neglect¬ ed, because continuance makes them great; and the very con • “ For this one thing* I always liked A]>olloniiis the Alabandian; though he taught for money, he did not suffer any whom he thouglit incapable of mak¬ ing a ffgure as orators, to lose their time and labour with him, but sent them home, exhorting them to apply themselves to that art, for winch they were, m his opinion, best qualified.” To solve this difficulty, we are willing to suppose, with Ttuauld, that there were two Molos contemporaries; for the testimonies of Suetonius, f in Csesard^ c. 4, ) and of Quintilian, f Institut. 1. xii. c. 6,) that Caesar and Cicero were pupil** to Apollonius Molo, can never be overruled. JULIUS C^SAR. 319 *;eTnpt they are h^ehind, who carried his sword. By these means he travelled so fast, and with so little interruption, as to reach the Rhone in eight days after his first setting out for thorx* parts from Rome. He was a good horseman from his early years, and brought that exercise to such perfection by practice, that he could sit a horse at full speed with his hands behind him. In this ex¬ pedition he also accustomed himself to dictate letters as \\e VoL. ITT-2 T 28=^ 330 JULIUS CjESAR. rode on horseback, and found sufficient employment for two secretaries at once, or, according to Oppius, for more. It also said, that Caesar was the first who contrived to commuru. cate his thoughts by letter to his friends, who were in the same city with him, when any urgent affair required it, and the multitude of business, or great extent of the city, did not admit of an interview. Of his indifference with respect to diet, they give us this remarkablt proof:—Happening to sup with Valerius I^eo, a friend of his, at Milan, there was sweet ointment poured upon the asparagus instead of oil. Caesar eat of it freely notwith¬ standing, and afterwards rebuked his friends for expressing their dislike of it:—It was enough,’’ said he, to forbear eating, if it was disagreeable to you. He who finds fault with any rusticity, is himself a rustic.” One day, as he was upon an excursion, a violent storm forced him to seek shelter in a poor man’s hut, where there was only one room, and that scarce big enough for a man to sleep in. Turning, therefore, to his friends, he said,—^Mio- nours for the great, and necessaries for the infirm;” and im¬ mediately gave up the room to Oppius, while himself and the rest of the company slept under a shed at the door. His first expedition in Gaul was against the Helvetians and Ti gurini; who, after having burnt twelve of their own towns and four hundred villages, put themselves under march, in order to penetrate into Italy, through that part of Gaul which was subject to the Romans, as the Cimbri and Teuiones would have done before them. Nor were tliese new adventurers in¬ ferior to the others in courage; and in numbers they were equal; being in ail three hundred thousand, of which a hundred and ninety thousand were fighting men. Caesar sent his lieu¬ tenant, Labienus, against the Tigurini, who routed them near the river Arar.* But the Helvetians suddenly attacked Cae¬ sar, as he was upon the march to a confederate town.t He gained, however, a strong post for his troops, notwithstanding the surprise; and when he had drawn them up, his horse was brought him. Upon which he said,—When I have won the battle, I shall want my horse for* the pursuit; at present let U5 march as we are against the enemy.” Accordingly, he charged then: with great vigour on fdoi.f * C3?sar says himself, that he left Labienus to guard the works he had ifiiised frorn the lake of Geneva to Mount Jura; and that he marcheil in per son at tlie head of three legions, to attack the Tigurini, in their jjassage ovei the Arar, now the Saone, and killed great numbers of them. •[ Bibracte, now" Autun. \ lie sent back h’s horse, and the rest follow'ed his example. This he did TULIUS CiESAR. 331 It cost him a long and severe conflict to drive their army out of the field: but he found the greatest difficulty when he came to their rampart of carriages; for not only the men made a most obstinate stand there, but the very women and children fought till they were cut in pieces; insomuch that the battle did not end before midnight. To this great action he added a still greater. He collected tlie barbarians who had escaped out of the battle, to the num¬ ber of a hundred thousand and upwards, and obliged them to re-settle in the country they had relinquished, and to rebuild the cities they had burnt. This he did, in fear that, if the country were left without inhabitants, the Germans would pass the Rhine and seize it. His second war was in defence of the Gauls against the Germans,^ though he had before honoured their king Ario vistus with the title of an ally of Rome. They proved unsup- portable neighbours to those he had subdued; and it was easy to see, that instead of being satisfied with their present acqui¬ sitions, if opportunity offered, they would extend their con¬ quests over all Gaul. He found, however, his officers, par ticularly those of the young nobility, afraid of this expedition, for they had entered into Caesar’s service only in hopes of living luxuriously, and making their fortunes. He, therefore, called them together, and told them, before the whole army,— That they were at liberty to retire, and needed not hazard their persons against their inclination, since they were so un¬ manly and spiritless. For his ]3art, he would march with the tenth legion only against those barbarians; for they were neither better men than the Cimbrians, nor was he a worse general than Marius.” Upon this the tenth legion deputed some of their corps to thank him. The other legions laid the whole blame upon their officers, and all followed him with great spirit and alacrity. After a march of several days, they encamped within tvvo hundred furlongs of the enemy. Caesar’s arrival broke the confidence of Ariovistus. Instead of expecting that the Romans would come and attack him, he had supposed they would not dare to stand the Germans, when tl\ey went in quest of them. He was much surprised, there¬ to prrjvent all hopes of a retreat, as well as to show his troops that he would take his share in all the danger. Vide. Bell. Gall. lib. i. * "riie ^dui implored his protection against Ariovistus, king of the Ger¬ mans, who, taking advantage of the differences which had long' subsisted between them and the Averni, had joined the latter, made himself master of great part of the country of the Sequani, and obliged tlie vEdui to give .lim their children as hostages. T’he /Edui were the people of Autun; the A\erni of* Auvergne; and the Sequani of Franche Comte.— Cass. Bell. Gall, jb. i. 332 JULIUS CiESAR. ^ore at this bold attempt of Caesar, and, what was worse, hfl saw his own troops were disheartened. They were dis¬ pirited still more by the prophecies of their matrons, who had the care of divining, and used to do it by the eddies of rivers, the windings, the murmurs, or other noise made by the stream. On this occasion they charged the army not to give battle be¬ fore the new moon appeared Caesar having got information oi these matters, and seeing the Germans lie close in their camp, thought it better to en¬ gage them while thus dejected, than to sit still and wait their time. For this reason, he attacked their entrenchments and the hills upon which they were posted; which provoked them to such a degree, that they descended in great fury to the plain. They fought, and were entirely routed. Caesar pur¬ sued them to the Rhine, which was three hundred furlongs from the field of battle,^ covering all the way with dead bodies and spoils. Ariovistus reached the river time enough to get over with a few troops. The number of killed is said to have amounted to eighty thousand. After he had thus terminated the war, he left his army in winter-quarters in the country of the Sequani, and repaired to Gaul, on this side the Po, which was part of his province, in order to have an eye upon the transactions in Rome: for the river Rubicon parts the rest of Italy from Cisalpine Gaul. During his stay there, he carried on a variety of state intrigues. Great numbers came from Rome to pay their respects to him, and he sent them all away satisfied; some laden with presents, and others happy in hope. In the same manner, throughoul all his wars, without Pompey’s observing it, he was conquer¬ ing his enemies by the arms of the Roman citizens, and gain¬ ing the citizens by the money of his enemies. As soon as he had intelligence that the Belgae, who were the most powerful people in Gaul, and whose territories made up a third part of the whole country, had revolted and assem¬ bled a great army, he marched to that quarter with incredible expedition. He found them ravaging the lands of those Gauls who were allies of Rome, defeated the main body, which made but a feeble resistance, and killed such numbers, that lakes and rivers were filled with the dead, and bridges were formed of their bodies. Such of the insurgents as dwelt upon the sea- coast surrendered without opposition. From thence he led his army against the Nervii.t wh( live among thick woods. After they had secured their families * (ysesar savs, it was only five miles from tlie field of battle; therefe-rr*, iiv stead of we should read 'ri'jo-'j.o'J.-A.ov'r'j.. Their country is now called Hainault and Cambresis JULIUS C^SAR. 333 and most valuable goods, in the best manner they could, in the heart of a.large forest, at a great distance from tlie enemy, they marched, to the number of sixty thousand, and fell upon Cccsar, as he was fortifying his eamp, and had not the least no¬ tion of such an attack.^ They first routed his cavalry, and then surrounded the twelfth and seventh legions, and killed all the officers. Had not Caesar snatched a buckler from one of his own men, forced his way through the combatants before him, and rushed upon the barbarians; or had not the tenth le¬ gion,! seeing his danger, run from the heights where they were posted, and mowed down the enemy’s ranks, in all pro¬ bability not one Roman would have survived the battle. But though, encouraged by this bold act of Caesar, they fought with a spirit above their strength, they were not able to make the Nervii turn their backs. These brave men maintained their ground, and w^ere hew^ed to pieces on the spot. It is said, that out of sixty thousand not above five hundred were saved, and out of four hundred Nervian senators, not above three. Upon the news of this great victory, the senate of Rome decreed ^hat sacrifices should be offered, and all manner ol festivities kept up, for fifteen days together; which was a longei term of rejoicing than had ever been known before. Indeed, the danger appeared very great, on account of so many nations rising at once; and as Caesar w’as the man who surmounted it, the affection the people had for him made the rejoicing mpre brilliant. After he had settled the affairs of Gaul on the other side the Alps, he crossed them again, and wintered near the * As tills attack was unexpected, C?esar bad, in a manner, every thing* to do at the same instant. The banner was to be erected, the charg'e sounded, the soldiers at a distance recalled, the army drawn up, and the sig*nal g*iven. [n this surprise he ran from place to place, exhorting* his men to remember their former valour; and having* drawn them up in the best manner he could, caused the sig*nal to be g*iven. The leg*ionaries made a vig*orous resistance; but as the enemy seem.ed determined either to conquer or die, the success was difl’erent in different places. In the left wing* the ninth and the tenth legions did wonders, drove the Atrebates into a neighbouring* river, and made a great slaughter of them. In another place the eighth and eleventh legions repulsed the Vermandui, and drove them before them. Ihit in tlie right wing, the seventh and twelfth legions suff ered extremely. They were entirely suwounded by the Nervii, all the centurions of the fourth cohort being slain, and most of the other officers wounded. In this extremity, Crrsap snatched a buckler from one of the private men, put himseif at the he.ad of his broken wing, and being joined by the two legions which he had left tc guard ^.hi baggage, fell upon the Nervii, already fatigued, with fresh vigour, and made a dreadful havock of them. ■f In the original it is the twelfth; but it appears from the second book ol Carsar’s Commentaries, that we should read here Stuxnrcv, not lu» deed the Paris manuscript has /egi^^Tcv. 334 JULIUS C^SAIL Po, in order to maintain his interest in Pome; where the can¬ didates for the great offices of state were supplied with money out of his funds, to corrupt the people, aod after they had car¬ ried their election, did every thing to extend his power. Nay, the greatest and most illustrious personages went to pay theii court to him at Lucca, among whom were Pompey, Crassus. Appius, governor of Sardina, and Nepos proconsul in Spain. So that there were a hundred and twenty lictors attending their masters, and above two hundred senators honoured him with their assiduities. After they had fixed upon a plan of business, they parted. Pompey and Crassus were to be con¬ suls the year ensuing, and to get Caesar’s government prolong ed for five yeais more, with supplies out of the treasury for his occasions. The last particular appeared extremely absurd to all men of sense. They who received so much of Caesar’s money jjcrsuaded the senate to give him money, as if he was in want of it, or rather, they insisted it should be done: and every honest man sighed inwardly while he suffered the de¬ cree to pass. Cato, indeed, was absent, having been sent with a commission to Cyprus, on purpose that he might be out of the way. But f\avonius, who trod in Cato’s steps, vigor¬ ously opposed those measures: and when he found that his opposition availed nothing, he left the house, and applied to the people, exclaiming against such pernicious counsels. No one, however, attending to him; some being overawed by Pompey and Crassus, and others influenced by regard for Caesar, in whose smile alone they lived, and all their hopes flourished. Caesar, at his return to his army in Gaul, found another furi¬ ous war lighted up in the country; the Usipeles and the Tench- teri,^ two great German nations, having crossed the Rhine to make conquests. The account of the affair with them we shall take from Caesar’s own Commentaries.t These barbarians sent deputies to him to propose a suspension of arms, which was granted them. Nevertheless, they attacked him as he was * The people of the March and of Westphalia, and those of Munster and Cleves. This war happened under the consulship of Crassus and Pompey, which was in the year of Rome 693. But there were several intermediate transac¬ tions of great importance, which Plutarch has omitted, viz. the reduction of the Aduatici by Caesar; of seven other nations by P. Crassus, the son of the tiiumvir; offers of submission from several nations beyond the Rhine; the attempt upon Galba in his winter-quarters at Octodurus, and his brave de¬ fence and victory; the severe chastisement of the Veneti, who had revolted; and the complete reduction of Acquitaine. These particulars are contain* ed in part the second and the whole third book of the War in Gaul. I Ruauld justly observes, that Plutarch should not have called the Com* inentaries as he does here, but ^uTrofAvyifAcLTdi, as usual. JULIUS C^SAR. 335 making an excursion. With only eight hundred horse, how¬ ever, who were not prepared for an engagement, he heal their cavalry, which consisted of five thousand. Next day they sent other deputies to apologize for what had happened, but without any other intention than that of deceiving him again. These agents of theirs he detained, and marched immediately against them, thinking it absurd to stand upon honour with su(*,h perfidious men, who had not scrupled to violate the truce. \et Canusius writes, that when the senate were voting a pub¬ lic thanksgiving and processions on account of the victory, Cato proposed that Caesar should be delivered up to the barbarians, to expiate that breach of faith, and make the divine vengeance fall upon its author, rather than upon Rome. Of the barbarians that had passed the Rhine, there were four hundred thousand killed. The few who escaped repass¬ ed the river, and were sheltered by a people of Germany call¬ ed Sicambri. Caesar laid hold on this pretence against that people; but his true motive was an avidity of fame, to be the first Roman that ever crossed the Rhine in a hostile manner. In pursuance of his design, he threw a bridge over it, though it was remarkably wide in that place, and at the same time so rough and rapid, that it carried down with it trunks of trees and other timber, which much shocked and weakened the pil¬ lars of his bridge. But he drove great piles of wood into the bottom of the river above the bridge, both to resist the im- g ression of such bodies, and to break the force of the torrent. y these means he exhibited a spectacle astonishing to thought: so immense a bridge finished in ten days. His army passed over it without opposition, the Suevi and the Sicambri, the most warlike nations in Germany, having retired into the heart of their forests, and concealed themselves in cavities overhung with wood. He laid waste the enemy's country with fire, and confirmed the better disposed Germans in the interest of Rome;^ after which he returned into Gaul, having spent no more than eighteen days in Germany. But his expedition into Britain discovered the most daring spirit of enterprise: for he was the first who entered the west¬ ern ocean with a fleet, and, embarking his troops on the At¬ lantic, carried war into an island whose very existence was doubted. Some writers had represented it so incredibly large, that others contested its being, and considered both the name and the thing as a fiction. Yet Caesar attempted to comjuer it, and to extend the Roman empire beyond the bounds of the habitable world. He sailed thither twice from the opposite coast in Gaul, and fought many battles, by which the iiritona • The Ubii, the people of Cologne. 336 JULIUS CaESAR. suffered more than the Romans gamed; for there nothing worth taking from a people who were so poor, and lived in so much wretchedness.^ He did not, however, terminate the war in the manner he could have wished: he only received hostages of the king, and appointed the tribute the island was to pay, and then returned to Gaul. There he received letters, which were going to be sent over to him, and by which his friends in Rome infonned him that his daughter, the wife of Pompey, had lately died in child-bed. This was a great affliction both to Pompey and Caesar. Their friends, too, were very sensibly concerned to see that alliance dissolved which kept up the peace and harmony of the state otherwise in a very unsettled condition. For the child sur¬ vived the mother only a few days. The people took the body ol Julia, and carried it, notwithstanding the prohibition of the tribunes, to the Campus Martins^ where it was interred. As Caesar’s army was now very large,t he was forced to di¬ vide it for the convenience of winter-quarters; after which he took the road to Italy, according to custom. But he had not been long gone, before the Gauls, rising again, traversed the country with considerable armies, fell upon the Roman quar¬ ters with great fury, and insulted their intrenchments. The most numerous and the strongest body of the insurgents was that under Ambiorix, who attacked Cotta and Titurius in their camp, and cut them off with their whole party. After which, he went and besieged the legion under the command of Q. Cicero, with sixty thousand men; and though the spirit of those brave Romans made a resistance above their strength, they were very near being taken, for they were all wounded. Caesar, who was at a great distance, at last getting intelli¬ gence of their danger, returned wdth all expedition; and hav¬ ing collected a body of men which did not exceed seven thou¬ sand, hastened to the relief of Cicero. The Gauls, who were not ignorant of his motions, raised the siege, and went to meet him; for they despised the smallness of his force, and were confident of victory. Ciiesar, to deceive them, made a feint as if he fled, till he came to a place convenient for a small army f It does not appear that there was much corn in Briton in Caesar’s time; for the inhabitants, he says, lived chiefly on milk and flesh: Lade et carm viirant, * This army consisted of eight legions, and as there was almost a famine in the country, the consequence of excessive drought, Caesar was obliged to separate his troops for their better subsistence. He was, therefore, un¬ der the necessity of fixing the quarters at such a distance, which would otherwise have been impoiitic. He tells us, (lib. v.) that all the legions, except one, which was in a quiet country, were posted within the compasf of a hundred miles. JULIUS CiESAR. 337 fo engage a great one, and there he fortified his camp. He gave his men strict orders not to fight, but to throw up a strong rampart, and to barricade their gates in the securest manner, contriving by all these manoeuvres to increase the encmy^s contempt of him. It succeeded as he wished: the Hauls"came up with great insolence and disorder to attack his trenches: then Caesar, making a sudden sally, defeated and de¬ stroyed the greatest part of them. This success laid the spirit of revolt in those parts; and for farther security he remained all the winter in Gaul, visiting all the quarters, and keeping a sharp eye upon every motion towards war. Besides, he re ceived a reinforcement of three legions in the room of those he had lost; two of which were lent him by Pompey, and one lately raised in Cisalpine Gaul. After this,^ the seeds of hostilities, which had long before been privately scattered in the more distant parts of the country by the chiefs of the more warlike nations, shot up into one of the greatest and most dangerous wars that was ever seen in Gaul; whether we consider the number of troops and store of arms, the treasures amassed for the war, or the strength of the iowns and fastnesses they occupied. Besides, it was then the most severe season of the year; the rivers were covered with ice, the forests with snow, and the fields overflowed in such a manner that they looked like so many ponds; the roads lay concealed in snow, or in floods disembogued by the lakes and rivers: so that it seemed impossible for Caesar to march, or to pursue any other operations against them. Many nations had entered into the league; the principal of which were the Arvernit and Carnutes.J The chief direction of the war was given to Vercingetorix, whose father the Gauls had put to death for attempting at monarchy, Vercingetorix having divided his forces into several parts, and given them in charge to his lieutenants, had the country at command as far as the Arar. His intention was to raise all Gaul against Caesar, now when his enemies were rising against him at Rome. But had he staid a little longer till Caesar was actually engaged in the civdl war, the terrors of the Gauls would not have been less dreadful to Italy now, than those of the Cimbri were formerly. Caesar, who knew perfectly how to avail himself of every * Plutarch passes over the whole sixth book ofCarsar’s Commentaries, as he had done the third. Many considerable events happened between the victory last mentioned, and the affair with Vercing'ctorix; such as the defeat of the Treviri, Caesar’s second passage over the R'line, and the pursuit of Ambiorix* The people of Auvergne, particularly those of Clermont and St. Fleur. i The people of Chartres and Orleans. VoL. Ill —8 u 89 338 JULIUS C^SAK. advantage in war, particularly of time, was no sooner into rnieci of this great defection, than he set out to chastise its autliors* * * § and, by the swiftness of his march, in spite of all the diffi culties of a severe winter, he showed the barbarians that his troops could neither be conquered nor resisted: for where a courier could scarce have been supposed to come in many days, Caesar was seen with his whole army ravaging the coun¬ try, destroying the castles, storming the cities, and receiving the submission of such as repented. Thus he went on, till the iEdui^ also revolted, who had styled themselves brothers I- the Romans, and had been treated with particular regarc Their joining the insurgents spread uneasiness and dismay through Caesar’s army. He therefore decamped in all haste, and traversed the country of the Lingones,t in order to come into that of the Sequani,J who were fast friends, and nearer to Italy than the rest of the Gauls. The enemy followed him thither in prodigious numbers, and surrounded him. Caesar, without being in the least dis¬ concerted, sustained the conflict, and after a long and bloody action, in which the Germans were particularly serviceable to him, gave them a total defeat.§ But he seems to have receiv¬ ed some check at flrst; for the Arverni still show a sword sus¬ pended in one of their temples, which they declare was taken from Caesar. His friends pointed it out to him afterw’ards, but he only laughed; and when they were for having it taken down, he would not sufl'er it, because he considered it as a thing consecrated to the gods. JMost of those who escaped out of the battle, retired into Alesia|| with their king. Caesar immediately invested the town, though it appeared impregnable, as well on account of the height of the walls, as the number of troops there was to defend it. During the siege, he found himself exposed to a danger from without, which makes imagination giddy to think on. All the bravest men in Gaul assembled from every quar¬ ter, and came armed to the relief of the place, to the number of three hundred thousand; and there were not less than seventy thousand combatants within the walls. Thus shut up between two armies, he was forced to draw two lines of circumvallation, the interior one against the town, and that without against the • I'he people of Aiitun, Lyons, Mag on, Chalons upon Saone, and Nevers, I The district of Langres. i The district of Besangon. § This passage in the original is comipt or defective. We have endea¬ voured to supply that defect, by reading with M. Dacier, Tifj/uAifoic instead of ctxxQii; which is agreeable to Csesar’s own account of the battle, in the seventh book of his Commentaries. I Cccsar calls it Alexia, now Alise, near Flavigiiy. OULIUS C^SAR. 3J9 ifoops that came to its succour; for, could the two armies have joined, he haxi been absolutely lost This dangerous action at Alesia contributed to Caesar’s renown on many accounts. In¬ deed, he exerted a more adventurous courage and greater ge¬ neralship than on any other occasion. But what seems v( ry astonishing, is, that he could engage and conquer so many myriads without, and keep the action a secret to the troops in the town.^ It is still more wmnderful that the Romans, ho were left before the walls, should not know it, till the victc ry was announced by the cries of the men in Alesia, and ihe lamentations of the women, who saw^ the Romans on e: ch side of the town bringing to their camp a number of shie’ds adorned with gold and silver, helmets stained with bio )d, drinking vessels, and tents of the Gaulish fashion. Thus «lid this vast multitude vanish and disappear like a phantom era dream, the greatest part being killed on the spot. The besieged, after having given both themselves and Caesar much trouble, at last surrendered. Their general, Vercin^e- torix, armed himself and equipped his horse in the most m ig- niheent manner, and then sallied out at the gate. After he had taken some circuits about Caesar as he sat upon the tri.iu nal, he dismounted, put ofl' his armour, and placed himself at Caesar’s feet, where he remained in profound silence, till ( ae- sar ordered a guard to take him away, and keep him for his triumph. Caesar liad been some time resolved to ruin Pompey, and Pompey to destroy Caesar. For Crassus, who alone co ild have taken up the conqueror, being killed in the Parthian war, there remained nothing for Caesar to do, to make himself (he greatest of mankind, but to annihilate him that w^as so; nor for Pompey to prevent it, but to take off the man he feared. It is true, it was no long time that Pompey had entertained any fear of him: he had rather looked upon him with contempt, imagining he could as easily pull him down as he had set him up: whereas Caesar, from the first, designing to ruin his riv ds, had retired at a distance, like a champion, for exercise. By long service and great achievements in the wars of Gaul, he had so improved his army, and his own reputation too, that he w^as considered as on a footing with Pompey; and he found ])retences for carrying his enterprise into execution, in the *imes of the misgovernment at Rome. These were partly 1 ur- nished by Pompey himself; and, indeed, all ranks of men were so corrupted, that tables were publicly set out, upon which the candidates for offices were professedly ready to pay che people the price of their votes; and the people came not o dy * Casarsays, that those ii\ tlie town had a distinct view of tlje batlle TULIUS C^SAH. CO give their voices for the man who had bought them, but with all manner of offensive weapons to fight for him. Hence it often happened, that they did not part without polluting the tribunal with blood and murder, and the city was a perpetual scene of anarchy. In this dismal situation of things, in these storms of epidemic madness, wise men thought it would be happy if they ended in nothing worse than monarchy. Nay,' there were many who scrupled not to declare publicly, that monarchy was the only cure for the desperate disorders of the state; and that the physician ought to be pitched upon who would apply that remedy with the gentlest hand; by which they hinted at Pompey. Pompey, in all his discourse, pretended to decline the ho¬ nour of a dictatorship, though, at the same time, every step he took was directed that way. Cato, understanding ids drift, persuaded the senate to declare him sole consul; tliat, satisfied with a kind of monarchy more agreeable to law, he might not adopt any violent measures to make himself dictator. The senate not only agreed to this, but continued to him his go¬ vernments of Spain and Africa, the adm.inistration of which he committed to his lieutenants; keeping armies there, for whose maintenance he was allowed a thousand talents a-year out of the public treasury. Upon this, Caesar applied, by his friends, for another con¬ sulship, and for the continuance of his commission in Gaul, answerable to that of Pompey. As Pompey was at first silent, Marcellus and Lentulus, who hated Caesar on other accounts, opposed it with great violence, omitting nothing, whether right or wrong, that might reflect dishonour upon him: for they disfranchised the inhabitants of Novocomum in Gaul, which had lately been erected into a colony by Caesar; and Marcellus, then consul, caused one of their senators, who was . come wuth some complaints to Rome, to be beaten with rods, and telling him,—“ The marks on his back were so many ad¬ ditional proofs that he was not a Roman citizen,bade him go show them to Caesar. But after the consulship of Marcellus, Caesar opened the treasures he had amassed in Gaul, to all that were concerned in the administration, and satisfied their utmost wishes: he paid oflT the vast debts of Curio the tribune; he presented the consul, Paulus, with fifteen hundred talents, which he employ¬ ed in building the celebrated public hall near the fonim^ in the place where that of Fulvius had stood. Pompey, now alarm¬ ed at the increase of Caesar’s faction, openly exerted his own interest, and that of his friends, to procure an order for a suc¬ cessor to Caesar in Gaul. He also sent to demand the troops he had lent him for his '‘Vars in tharcr untry, and Caesar return JULTU& C.^:SAR. r^4J ed cVieni with a grataity of two hundred and fifty drachmas U, each man. Those who conducted these troops back, spread reports among the people which were neither favourable nor fair with respect to Caesar, and wliich ruined Pompey with va‘n hopes. They asserted that Pompey had the hearts, of all Caesar’s army; and that if envy and a corrupt administration hindered bin. from gaining what he desired at Rome, the forces in Gaul were at his service, and would declare for him immediately upon their entering Italy; so obnoxious was Caesar become, by hurrying them perpetually from one expedition to another, and by the suspicions they had of his aiming at absolute power. Pompey was so much elated with these-assurances, that he neglected to levy troops, as if he had nothing to fear, and op¬ posed his enemy only with speeches and decrees, which Caesa*" made no account of. Nay, we are told, that a centurion, whom Caesar had sent to Rome, waiting at the door of the senate-house for the result of the deliberations, and being in¬ formed that the senate would not give Caesar a longer term in his commission, Inid his hand upon bis sword, and said,—But this shall give it.” Indeed, Caesar’s requisitions had a great appearance of jus¬ tice and Honour. He proposed to lay down his arms, on con¬ dition Pompey would do the same; and that they should both, as private citizens, leave it to their country to reward their services: for to deprive him of his commission and troops, and continue Pompey’s, was to give absolute power to the one, to which the other was unjustly acc^jsed of aspiring. Curio, who made these propositions to the people in behalf of Caesar, w^as received with the loudest plaudits; and there were some who even threw chaplets of flowers upon him, as they would upon a champion victorious in the ring. Antony, one of the tribunes of the people, then produced 5 letter fiom Caesar to the same purport, and caused it to be read, notwithstanding the opposition it met with,^ from the consuls Hereupon Scipio, Pompey’s father-in-law, proposed in the se nate, that if Caesar did not lay down his arms by such a day^ he should be declared an enemy to ibe state; and the consuh putting it to the question,—Whether Pompey should dis¬ miss bis forces?” and again,—Whether Caesar should disband his?” few of the members were for the first, and almost all for the second.! After which, Antony put the question,— * [nstead ot J'lat ta’V some MSS. g'ives ns 'luv 'imdL'xotv. ■j Dio says, there was not a man for the first question, whereas the whole house w’as for the second, except C^elius and Chirio. Nor is tliis to be won dered at; Pompey was tlien at the g’ates of Rome with his army. '29^ JULIUS C.LSAR. 341 AVhether both should lay down their commissions? ^ and ali vvi ;,1\ one. voice answered in the affirmative. But the violent ra^ e of Scipio, and the clamours of the consul Lentulus, who cried out, that—Not decrees, but arms should be employed ag liust a public robber/’ made the senate break up; and on ac- CO int of the unhappy dissension, all ranks of people put on black, as in a time of public mourning. Scon after this, other letters arrived from Caesar with more moderate proposals. He offered to abandon all the rest, pro- vid.e'overnment of‘rransalpine (ianl; i>ul he imprudently shut himself up in Corfinium, before iie left Italy. JULIUS CjESAH. 545 f^eat relief tj the minds of the people, and many who had fled iame back again. In the meantime, Caesar having added tc his own army the troops of Domitius, and all others th^t Pom- oey had left in garrison, was strong enough to march against Pompcy himself. The latter, however, did not wait for him, but reti;?d to Brundusium, from whence he sent the consuls with p'^rt of the forces to Dyrrhachium, and, a little afU^', upon the anproach of Caesar, sailed thither himself, as we have re¬ lated it large in his life. Caesar would have followed him im¬ mediately, but he wanted ships. He, therefore, returned to Rome, with the glory of having reduced Italy in sixty days, without spilling a drop of blood. Finding the city in a more settled condition than he expect¬ ed, and many senators there, he addressed them in a mild and g-racious manner, and desired them to send deputies to Pom- ])ey to offer honourable terms of peace. But not one of them would take upon him the commission; whether it was that they were afraid of Pompey, whom they had deserted, or whether '[hey thought Caesar not in earnest in the proposal, and that he only made it to save appearances. As Metellus the tribune op¬ posed his taking money out of the public treasury, and alleged some laws against it, Caesar said,—Arms and laws do not flourish together. If you are not pleased at what I am about, you have nothing to do but to withdraw: indeed, war will not bear much liberty of speech. When I say this, I am depart¬ ing from my own right: for you, and all whom I have found exciting a spirit of faction against m.e, are at my disposal.’^ Saying this, he approached the doors of the treasury, and as the kcrys were not produced, he sent for workmen to break them open. Metellus opposed him again, and some praised his firmness; but Caesar, raising his voice, threatened to put him to death if he gave him any farther trouble:—And, young man,” said he, you are not ignorant that this is harder for me to say than to do.” Metellus, terrified with his menace, retired, and afterwards Caesar was easily and readily supplied with every thing necessary for the war. His first movement was to Spain, from whence he wa? re¬ solved to drive Afranius and Varro, Pompey’s lieutenants* and after having made himself master of their troops and pro¬ vinces, to march against Pompey, without leaving an eneinji behind him. In the course of this expedition, his life was often in danger from aml)uscades, and his army had to com¬ bat with famine; yet he continued his operations against the enemy, either by pursuit, or ofl’ering them battle, or forming lines of circumvallation about them, till he forced their camp, and added their troops to his own. The officers made Iheii escape, and retired to Pompey VoL. HI.-9, X JULIUS fL^:SAR. upon liis return to Rome, his hither-in-law Piso, pressed him to send deputies to Pompey to treat of an accommodation, h.it Isauncus, to make his court to Caesar, opposed it. The s»‘nate declared him. dictator, and while he held that office, he fijcalled the exiles; he restored to their honours the children of those ^vho had suffered under Sylla; and relieved debtors, bv cancelling part of the usury. These, and a few more, were his acts during his dictatorship, which he laid down in eleven da}'s. After this, he caused himself to he declared consul with Seivilius Isauricus, and then went to prosecute the war. He marched so fast to Brundusium, that all his troops could not keep up with him. However, he embarked with only six hundred select horse and five legions. It was at the time of the winh'.r solstice, the beginning of January, which answers to the Athenian month PosieJeon^ that he set sail. He crossed the Ionian sea, made himself master of Oricum and Apollonia, and sent back^ his ships to Brundusium to bring over the forces that were left behind. But those troops, exhausted with fatigue, and tired out with the multitude of enemies they had to engage with, broke out into complaints against Caesar, a^ they weie upon their march to their port;—Whither wil this man lead us,’’ said they, “and where will be the end o: cur labours? Will he harass us for ever, as if we had limbs ol Lcone, or bodies of iron? But iron itself yields to repeated blow's; our very shields and cuirasses call out for rest. Will not Caesar learn from our w'ounds that we are mortal, that w'e have the same feelings, and are liable to the same impressions with other men? The gods themselves can not force the sea¬ sons, or clear the wdnter seas of storms and tempests. And it IS in this season that he would expose us, as if he w'as fiying from his enemies, rather than pursuing them.” Amidst such discourse as this, they moved on slowdy to Ih'undusium. But when they arrived there, and found that Caesar w^as gone, they changed their language, and reproached themselves as traitors to their general. They vented their anger upon their officers, too, for not hastening their inarch; and siting upon the cliff's, they kept their eyes upon the sea towards Epirus, to see if they could discover the transports that w^ere to fetch them. Meantime Caesar, not having a sufficient force a« Apollonia to make head against the enemy, and seeing the troops at Brundusium delayed to join him, to relieve himself from the * He sent them back under the conduct of Galenus. That officer losing tlie opportunity of the wind, fell in with Bihuhis, who took thirt''" of his ships, and burnt them all, togetlier with their pilots and mariners, in ordei to intimidate the rest. JULIUS (LLSAIt. 347 jn.xietv and perjdexity he was in, undertook a most astonish¬ ing enterprisCc Though the sea was covered witli the ene- mv^s fleets, he resolved to embark in a vessel of tw(dve oars, without acquainting any person with his intention, and sail to Bi*undusium.^ In the night, therefore, he took the habit of a slave, and throwing himself into the vessel like a man of no account, sat there in silence. They fell down the rivert Ania? for the sea, where the entrance is generally easv, because the land-wind rising in the morning, used to beat off the waves of the sea, and smooth the mouth of the river. But unluckily that night a strong sea-wind sprung up, which overpowered that from the land; so that by the rage of the sea and the coun¬ teraction of the stream, the river became extremely rough: the waves dashed against each other with a tumultuous noise, and formed such dangerous eddies, that the pilot despaired of mak¬ ing: good his passage, and ordered the mariners to turn back. .1, % ,1 . .p , Caesar, perceiving this, rose up, and showing himselt to the pilot, who was greatly astonished at the sight of him, said,- Go forward, my friend, and fear nothing; thou carriest Caesar und his fortune.’^ The mariners then forgot the storm, and plying their oars with the utmost vigour and alacrity, endea¬ voured to overcome the resistance of the waves. But such was their violence at the mouth of the ri\er, and the water flowed so fast into the vessel, that Caesar at last, though with great reluctance, permitted the pilot to turn back. Upon his return to his camp, the soldiers met him in e.rovvds, pouring out their complaints, and expressing the greatest concern that he did not assure himself of conquering with them only, but, in distrust of their support, gave himself so much uneasiness, and exposed his person to so much danger on account of the absent. Soon after, Antony arrived from Brundusium with the troops.J Caesar, then, in the highest spirits, offered battle to Pompey, who was encamped in an advantageous manner, and abundantly supplied with provisions both from sea and land; * Most historians blame this as a rash action: and Caesar himself, in his Comm.entaries, makes no mention of this, or of another less dangerous at' tempt which is related by Suetonius. While he was making war in Gaul, upon advice that the Gauls had surrounded his army in his absence, he dressed himself like a native of the country, and in that disguise passed through the enemy’s sentinels and troops to his own camp. f Strabo, in his seventh book (Ed. Par. p. ,316, B. C.) calls this river Jlous. In Polybius it is called Luus; but that is a corruption, the A being changed, by the transcriber, into A. t AnUmy and Calenus embarked on board the vessels which had escaped Bibulus, eight hundred horse and foui legions, that is, three old ones, and one that had been newly raised; and when they were landed, Antony sent back the ships for the rest of the forces. JULIUS CLUSAR. U8 whereas Caesar at first had no great plenty, and afterwards was in extreme want. The soldiers, however, iound great relief from a root’^ in the adjoining fie.ds, which they pn‘.pared in milk. Sometimes they made it into bread, and going up to the enemy’s advanced guard, threw it among them, and de¬ clared ,—‘‘ That as long as the earth produced such roots iliey would certainly besiege Pompey.” Fompey would not suffer either such bread to be produced, or such speeches to be reported in his camp; for his men were already discouraged, and ready to shudder at the thought of the impenetrable hardness of Caesar’s troops, who could bear as much as so many wild beasts. There were frequent skir¬ mishes about Pompey’s entrenchments,t and Caesar had the advantage in them all, except one, in which his party was obliged to fly with such precipitation, that he was in danger of having his camp taken. Pompey headed the attack in person, and not a man could stand before him. He drove them upon their own lines in the utmost confusion, and filled their trenches with the dead. Caesar ran to meet them, and would have rallied the fugi¬ tives, but it was not in his power. He laid hold on the ensign- staves to stop them, and some left them in his hands, and others threw them upon the ground, insomuch that no less than thirty-two standards were taken. Caesar himself was very near /osing his life; for having laid hold of a tall and strong man, to stop him and make him face about, the soldier, in his terror and confusion, lifted up his sword to strike him; but Caesar’s armour-bearer prevented it, by a blow which cut off his arm. Caesar saw his affairs that day in so bad a posture, that after Pompey, either through too much caution, or the caprice of fortune, instead of giving the finishing stroke to so great an action, stopped as soon as he had shut up the enemy within their entrenchments, and sounded a retreat, he said to his friends as he withdrew,—This day victory would have de¬ clared for the enemy, if they had had a general who knew how to conquer.” He sought repose in his tent, but it proved the This root was called Claera. Some of Caesar’s soldiers, who had served In Sardinia, had there learned to make bread of it. •j- C2esar observed an old camp which he had occupied in the place where Pompey was enclosed, and afterwards abandoned. Upon his quitting* it, Pompey had taken possession of it, and left a legion to guard it. This post Lscsar attempted to reduce, and it was in this attempt that he suffered so much loss. He lost nine hundred and sixty foot, four hundred horse, among whom were several Roman knights, five tribunes, and thirty-two centurions. We noentioned just now that Pompey was enclosed, as in fact he was Gn the land side, by a line of circumvallation drawn by Caesa»’. JULIUS CiESAR 349 most melancholy night of his life; for he gave himself up tc endless reflections on his own misconduct in the war. He considered how wrong it was, when the wide countries and rich cities of Macedonia and Thessaly were before him, to con fine himself to so narrow a scene of action, and sit still by the sea, while the enemy’s fleets had the superiority, and in a place where he suffered the inconveniences of a siege from the want of provisions, rather than besie2:e the enemy by his arms. Thus agitated and distressed by the perplexities and difficul¬ ties of his situation, he resolved to decamp, and march against Scipio in Macedonia; concluding that lie should either draw Pompey after him, and force him to fight where he could not receive supplies as he had done from the sea; or else that he should easily crush Scipio, if he found him unsupported. Pompey’s troops and officers were greatly elated at this re¬ treat of Caesar; they considered it as a flight, and an acknow¬ ledgment that he was beaten, and, therefore, wanted to pur¬ sue. But Pompey himself was unvviHing to hazard a battle of such consequence. He was well provided with every thing requisite for waiting the advantages of time, and for that rea¬ son chose, by protracting the war, to wear out the little vigour the enemy had left. The most valuable of Caesar’s troops had, indeed, an experience and courage which were irresistible in the field; but age had made them unfit for long marches, for throwing up entrenchments, for attacking walls, and passing whole nights under arms. Thev were too unwieldv to en- dure much fatigue; and their inclination for labour lessened with their strength. Besides, there was said to be a contagious distemper among them, which arose from their strange and bad diet; and, what was still a more important circumstance, Caesar wanted both money and provisions, so that it seemed as if he must shortly fall of himself. These were Pompey’s reasons for declining a battle; but not a man, except Cato, was of his opinion; and he only, because he was willing to spare the blood of his countrymen: for when he saw the bodies of the enemy, who fell in the late action, to the number of a thousand, lie dead upon the field, he co¬ vered his face, and retired weeping. AW the rest censured Pompey for not deciding the affair immediately with tb^ sword, calling him Agamemnon and King of Kings, as if ho unwilling to be deprived of the monarchy he was in posses¬ sion of, and delighted to see so many generals wait: ^.g his or¬ ders, and attending to pay their 2ourt. Favonius, who af¬ fected to imitate Cato’s bold manner of sp.making, i)ut carriod it much too far, lamented that Pompey’s wmting to keep the kingly state he had got, would prevent tha’i eating figs tliat year at Tusculum. And Afranius, lately :ome from Spain, VoL HI. 30 350 JULIUS CLLSAR. where he had succeeded so ill Jn his command, that he \va§ accused of having been bribed to betray his army, asked Pom- pey,—Why he did not fight that merchant who trafficked in provinces?’’ Piqued at these reproaches, Pompey, against his own judg¬ ment, marched after Caesar, who proceeded on his routeWith great difficulty; for, on account of his late loss, all looked upon him with contempt, and refused to supply him with provisions. However, upon his taking Gomphi,^ a town in Thessaly, his tr.oops not only found sufficient refreshments, but rec.o^'ered surprisingly of the distemper: for, drinking plentifully of the wine they found there, and afterwards marching on in a Bac¬ chanalian manner, the new turn their blood took threw offthe disorder, and gave them another habit of body. When the two armies were encamped opposite each other on the plains of Pharsalia, Pompey returned to his old opinion: in which he was confirmed by some unlucky omens, and an alarming dream. He dreamed that the people of Rome re¬ ceived him in the theatre with loud plaudits; and that he adorn¬ ed the chapel of Venus Nicephora^ from whom Caesar derived his pedigree. But if Pompey was alarmed, those about him were so absurdly sanguine in their expectations of victory, that Domitius, Spinther, and Scipio, quarrelled about Caesar^s pontificate; and numbers sent to Rome to engage houses con¬ venient for consuls and praetors, making themselves sure of being soon raised to those high offices after the war But the cavalry testified the gieatest impatience for a battle; so proud were they of their fine arms, of the condition of their horses, and the beauty and vigour of their persons; besides, they were much more numerous than Caesar’s, being seven thousand to one thousand. Nor were the numbers of infantry equal, for Pompey had forty-five thousand, and Caesar only twenty-two thousand. Ccesar called his soldiers together, and told them,—That Cornificius was well advanced on his way with two more le¬ gions, and that he had fifteen cohorts, under the command of Caleniis, in the environs of Megara and Athens.” He then asked them,—‘^Whether they chose to wait for those troops, or to risk a battle without them?” They answered aloud, Let us not wait; but do you find out some stratagem to bring the enemy, as soon as possible, to an action.” He beg^n wdth offering sacrifices of purification for his army, * Caesar, perceiving of how much importance it was to his service to make himself master of the place before Pompy or Scipio could come up, gave a general assault about three in the afternoon, and though the walls were very hi8;’h, c?rried it before sunset. JULIUS r.LSAR. 35i find, upon opening the first victim, the soolhsaj er ciied out,— You will fight within three days.’’ Caesar then asked him, if there appeared in the entrails any auspicious presage? He answered,—“ It is you who can best resolve that question. The gods announce a great change and revolution in affairs. If you are happy at present, the alteration will be for the worse, if otherwise, expect better fortune.” The night before tlie battle, as he walked the rounds about midnight, there ap¬ peared a luminous phenomenon in the air. like a torch, whicn, as it passed over his camp, flamed out with great brightness, and seemed to fall in that of Pompey. And, in the mornings when the guards were relieved, a tumult was observed in the enemy’s camp, notunlike a panic terror. Caesar, however, so little expected an action that day, that he had ordered his troops to decamp, and march to Scotusa.* But as they were striking their tents, his scouts rode up, and told him the enemy were coming down to give him battle. Happy in the news, he made his prayer to the gods, and then drew up his army, which he divided into three bodies. Do- mitius Calvinus was to command the centre. Antony the left wing, and himself the right, where he intended to charge at the head of the tenth legion. Struck with the number and magnificent appearance of the enemy’s cavalry, who were posted over against him, he ordered six cohorts privately to advance from the rear. These he placed behind the right wing, and gave them instructions what to do when the enemy’s horse came to charge.t Pomy^ey’s disposition was this:—He commanded the right wing himself, Domitius the left, and his father-in-lavv Scipio, the main body. The whole weight of the cavalry was in the left wing: for they designed to surround the right of the enemy, and to make a successful effort where Caesar fought in person; thinking no body of foot could be deep enough to bear such a shock, but they must necessarily be broken in pieces upon the first impression. When the signal was ready to be given, Pompey ordered his infantry to stand in close order, and wait the enemy’s at¬ tack, till they were near enough to he reached by the javelin. Cxsar blamed this conduct. He said Pompey was not aware * Caesar lioped, by bis frequent decamping*s, to provide better for his troops, and perhaps g*ain a favourable opportunity of fig-hting. *t Cazsar and Appian agree that Pompey posted himself in his left wing-, not in the right. It is also liighly probable that Afranius, not laicius Do- mitias ^nobarbus, commanded Pompey’s right wing. Ceesar does not, indeed, expressly say vvlio commanded there; but lie says,—“ Outlie right was posted the legion of Cilicia, with the cohorts brought by Afranius out of Spain, which Pompey esteemed the flower of his army.”—See the notes ttn the Life of Pompey. 352 JULIUS -C^SAll. what weight the swift and fierce advance to the first charge gives to every blow, nor how the courage of each soldier is in- named by the rapid motion of the whole.^ He was now going to put his troops in motion, when he saw a trusty and experienced centurion encouraging his men to distinguish themselves that day. Caesar called him by his name, and said,—What cheer, Caius CrassinusPt How, think you, do we stand?’’ Caesar,” said the veteran, in a bold ac¬ cent, and stretching out his hand, ‘‘ the victory is ours. It will be a glorious one; and this da} I shall have your praise either alive or dead.” So saying, he ran in upon the enemy, at the head of his company, which consisted of a hundred and twenty men. He did great execution among the first ranks, and was pressing on with equal fierceness, when one of his an tagonists pushed his sword with such force in his mouth, that the point came out at the na})e of his neck. While the infantry Vv^ere thus warmly engaged in the centre, the cavalry advanced from Pompey’s left wing with great con¬ fidence, and extended their squadrons, to surround Caesar’s right wing: but before they could begin the attack,t the six cohorts which Caesar had placed behind, came up boldly to receive them. They did not, according to custom, attempt to annoy the enemy with their javelins at a distance, nor strike at the legs and thighs when they came nearer, but aimed at their eyes, and wounded them in the fiice, agreeably to the orders they had received. For Caesar hoped that these young cavaliers, who had not been used to wars and wounds, and who set a great value upon their beauty, would avoid, above all things, a stroke in that part, and immediately give way, as well on account of the present danger, as the future deformity. The event answered his expectation. They could not bear tne spears pointed against their faces, or the steel gleaming upon their eyes, but turned away their faces, and covered them with their hands. This caused such confusion, that at last they fled in the most infamous manner, and ruined the whole cause: for the cohorts which had beaten them ofl’ surrounded their infan¬ try, and charging them in the rear, as well as in front, soon cut them to pieces. Pompey, when from the other wing he saw his cavalry put to the rout, was no longer himself, nor did he remember that * Cicsar was so confident of success, that he ordered his entrenchments to be filled up, assuring his troops that they would be masters of the ene¬ my's camp before night. t Plutarch, in the Life of Pompey, calls him Crassianus. C esar calls him Crasiinus, i Caesar says they did engage his right wing; and obliged his cavalry tc giv« ground.— Bell. Civil, lib. iii. JXn.lUS C^SAR. 352 ne was Pompey the Great; but, like a man depri\ed oi* his senses by some superior power, or struck with consternation at his defeat,'as the consequence of the divine decree, lie re¬ tired to his camp without speaking a word, and sat down in his tent to wait the issue. At last, after his whole army was broken and dispersed, and the enemy had got upon his ram¬ parts, and were engaged with the troops appointed to defend them, ne seemed to come to himself, and cried out,—What* into my camp too?*' Without uttering one word more, he laid aside the ensigns of his dignity as general, and taking a habit that might favour his flight, he made his escape privately. What misfortunes befel him afterwards, how he put himself in the hands of the Egyptians, and was assassinated by tl le traitors, we have related at large in his life. When Caesar entered the camp, and saw what numbers of the enemy lay dead, and ti.ose they were then despatching, he said with a sigh ,—“ This they would have; to this cruel ne¬ cessity they reduced me: for had Caesar dismissed his troops, after so many great and successful wars, he would have been condemned as a criminal.’^ Asinius Pollio tells us Caesar spoke those words in Latin, and that he afterwards expressed the sense of them in Greek. He adds, that most of those who were killed at the taking of the camp were slaves, and that there fell not in the battle above six thousand soldiers.^ Caesar incorporated with his own legions most of the infantry that were taken prisoners, and pardoned many persons of distinc tion. Brutus, who afterwards killed him, was of the number It is said, that when he did not make his appearance after the battle, Caesar was very uneasy, and that upon his presenting himself unhurt, he expressed great joy. Among the many signs that announced this victory, that at Tralles was the most remarkable. There was a statue of Cae¬ sar in the temple of Victory; and, though the ground about it was naturally hard, anti paved with hard stone besides, it is said that a palm-tree sprung up at the pedestal of the statue. At Padua, Caius Cornelius, a countryman and acquaintance of Livy, and a celebrated diviner, was observing the flight of birds the day the battle of Pharsalia was fought. Bv this ob¬ servation, according to Livy’s account, he first discerned the time of action, and said to those that were by, The great affair now draws to a decision; the two generals are engaged.” Then he made another observation, and the signs appeared so clear to him, that he leaped up in the most enthusiastic man • Csesar savs there fell about fifteen thousand of the enemy, and that lie took above twenty-four thousand prisoners; and that on liis side the loss amounted only to about two hundred private soldiers, and thirty cenlurionH. VoL ITT.-2Y so* 354 JULIUS CJESAR. ner, and (iried out,—Caesar, thou art the conq jeror/^ As the company stood in great astonishment, he took the sacred fillet from his head, and swore,—He would never put it on again, till the event had put his art beyond question.” Lli^y alKrms this for a truth. Caesar granted the whole nation of Thessaly their liberty, for the sake of the victory he had gained there, and then went in pursuit of Pompey. He bestowed the same privilege on the Cnidians, in compliment to Theopompus, to whom we are indebted for a collection of fables; and he discharged the in¬ habitants of Asia froni a third part of their imposts. Upon his arrival at Alexandria he found Pompey assassi¬ nated; and when Theodotus presented the head to him, he turned from the sight with great abhorrence. The signet of that general was the only thing he took, and on taking it he wept. As often as any of Pompey’s friends and companions were taken Ptolemy, wandering about the country, and brought to Caesar, he loaded them with favours, and took them into his o’^ n service. He wrote to his friends at Rome,— That the chief enjoyment he had of his victory was in saving every day :ne or other of his fellow-citizens, who had borne arms against him.” As for his Egyptian war, some assert that it was underta¬ ken without necessity; and that his passion for Cleopatra en¬ gaged him in a quarrel, which proved both prejudicial to his reputation, and dangerous to his person. Others accuse the king’s ministers, particularly the eunuch Photinus, who had the greatest influence at court, and who, having taken off Pom¬ pey, and removed Cleopatra, privately m.editated an attempt against Caesar. Hence it is said, that Caesar began to pass the night in entertainments among his friends, for the greater se¬ curity of his person. The behaviour, indeed, of this eunuch in public, all he said and did with respect to Caesar, was in tolerably insolent and invidious. The corn he supplied his soldiei's with was old and musty, and he told them,—“ They ought to be satisfied with it, since they lived at other peopki’s cost.” He caused only wooden and eailhen vessels to be served up at the king’s table, on pretence that Caesar had taken all the gold and silver ones for debt; for the father of the r^ign- ins: j)rince owed Caesar seventeen million five hundred thou¬ sand drachmas. Caesar had formerly remitted to his children the rest, out thought fit to demand the ten millions at this time, for the maintenance of his army. Photinus, instead of paying the money, advised him to go and finish the great af¬ fairs he had upon his hands, after which he should have his monev vvith thanks. But Caesar t dd him,—He had no need JULIUS CiESAR. 35A of Escvptian counsellors,’’ and privately sent for Cleopatra out of the* * * § country. This princess takinpi; only one friend, Apollodorus tlie Sici¬ lian, with her, got into a small boat, and in the dusk of tho evening made for the palace. As she savv it difficult to enter it undiscovered, she rolled herself up in a carpet: Apollodorus tied her up at full length, like a bale of goods, and carried her in at the gates to Caesar. This stratagem of hers, which was a strong proof of her wit and ingenuity, is said to have, hist opened her the way to Caesar’s heart; and the conquest ad¬ vanced so fast, by the charms of her con versation, that he took upon him to reconcile her brother to her, and insisted that she should reign with him. An entertainment was given on account of this reconcilia¬ tion, and all met to rejoice on the occasion; when a servant of Caesar’s, who was his barber, a timorous and suspicious man, led by his natural caution to inquire into every thing, and to listen every where about the palace, found that Achillas the general, and Photinus the eunuch, were plotting against Cae¬ sar’s life. Caesar being informed of their design, planted his guards about the hall, and killed Photinus. But Achillas es¬ caped to the army, and involved Caesar in a very difficult and dangerous war; for, with a few troops he had to make head against a great city, and a powerful army. The first difficulty he met with* was the want of water, the Egyptians having stopped up the aqueducts that supplied his quarter.t The second was the loss of his ships in harbour, which he was forced to burn himself, to prevent their falling into the enemy’s hands; wffien the flames unfortunately spread¬ ing from the dock to the palace, burnt the great Alexandrian library. The third J was in the sea-fight near the isle of Pharos, when, seeing his men hard pressed, he leaped from the mole into a little skiff, to go to their assistance. The Egyptians making up on all sides, he threw’ himself into the sea, and wdth much difficulty reached his galleys by swimming.§ Having several valuable papers, which he w’as not willing either to * He was in great danger before, when attacked in the palace by Achil¬ las, who had made himself master of Alexandria.— Cses. Bell. Civil, lib. iii. sub Jinem. ■[• They also contrived to raise the sea-water by engines, and pour it into Caesar’s reservoirs and cisterns; but Caesar ordered wells to be dug, and, in a night’s time, got a sufficient quantity of fresh water. Vide Caes. Bell. Mtx. I First tl\ere was a general naval engagement; after which Caesar attacked the island, and last of all .the mole. It was in this last attack he was undei the difficulty mentioned by Plutarcli. § His first intention was to gain the admiral galley; but finding it very hard pressed, he made for the others. And it was fortunate for him that he did, for his own galley soon went to the bottom. 366 JULR S c.t:sar. lose or to wet, it is said he held them above water with one hand, and swam with the other. The skiff soon sunk after he left it. At last the king joining the insurgents, Caesar attacked and defeated him. Great numbers of the Egyptians were slain, and the king was heard of no more. This gave Caesar an opportunity to establish Cleopatra queen of Egypt. Soon after she had a son by him, whom the Alexandrians called Caesario. He then departed for Syria, and from thence marched into Asia Minor, where he had intelligence that Domitius, whom he had left governor, was defeated by Pharnaces, son of Mi- thridates, and forced to fly out of Pontus with the few troops that he had left; and that Pharnaces, pursuing his advantage with great ardour, had made himself master of Bithynia and Cappadocia, and was attempting Armenia the Less, having stirred up all the kings and tetrarchs of Asia against the Ro¬ mans. Cccsar immediately marched against him with three legions, and defeated him in a great battle near Zela, which deprived him of the kingdom of Pontus, as well as ruined his whole army. In the account he gave Amintius, one of his friends in Rome, of the rapidity and despatch with which he gained his victory, he made use only of three words,^“ I came, I saw, I conquered.’’ Their having all the same form and termination in the Roman language, adds grace to their conciseness. After tliis extraordinary success, he returned to Italy, and arrived at Rome, as the year of his second dictatorship, an office that had never been annual before, was on the point of expiring. He was declared consul for the year ensuing. But it was a blot in his character that he did not punish his troops, who in a tumult had killed Cosconius and Galba, men of pra::- torian dignity, in any severer manner than by calling them citizenst instead of fellow-soldiers. Nay, he gave each of them a thousand drachmas notwithstanding, and assigned them large f ')ortions of land in Italy. Other complaints against him arose rom the madness of Dolabella, the avarice of Amintius, the drunkenness of Antony, and the insolence of Cornificius,:f * Veni, vidi, vici. *1' But by this appellation tliey were casliiered. It was the tenth legion which had mutinied at Capua, and afterwards marclied with great insolence to Rome. Caesar readily gave tliem the discharge they demanded, which so humbled them, that they begged to be taken again into his service; and he did not admit of it without much seeming reluctance, nor till after much entre aty. t It was Antony, not Cornificius, wlio got the foideiture of Ponrpey’i nouse, as appears from the Life of Antony, and Cicero’s second Philippic. Therefore, there is probably a transposition in this place, owing to the care lessness of some transcriber. JtTLins C^SAR. 357 who, having got possession of Pompey’s house, pune(^ it down and rebuilt it, because he thought it not large enough for him These things were very disagreeable to the Romans. Cxsai knew it, and disapproved such behaviour, hut was obliged through political views, to make use of such ministers. Cato and Scipio, after the battle of Pharsalia, had escaped into Africa, where they raised a respectable army with the as¬ sistance of king Juba. Caesar now resolved to carry war into their quarters; and in order to it, first crossed over to Sicily^ though it was about the time of the winter solstice. To pre¬ vent his officers from entertaining any hopes of having the ex¬ pedition delayed, he pitched his own tent almost within the wash of the se?^; and a favourable wind springing up, he re¬ embarked with three thousand foot and a small body of horse.^ After he had landed them safely and privately on the African coast, he set sail again in quest of the remaining part of his troops, whose numbers were more considerable, and for whom he was under great concern. He found them, however, on their way, at sea, and conducted them all to his African camp, H e was there informed, that the enemy had great dependence on an ancient oracle, the purport of which was,—That the race of Scipio would be always victorious in Africa.’’ And as he happened to have in his army one of the family of Afri- canus, named Scipio Sallution, though in other respects a con¬ temptible fellow, either in ridicule of Scipio, the enemy’s ge¬ neral, or to turn the oracle on his side, in all engagements he gave this Sallution the command, as if he had been really ge¬ neral. There were frequent occasions of this kind; for he was often forced to fight for provisions, having neither a suffi¬ ciency of bread for his men, nor of forage for his horses. He was obliged to give his horses the very sea-weed, only wash¬ ing out the salt, and mixing a little grass with it to make it go down. The thing that laid him under a necessity of having recourse to this expedient, was the number of Numidian caval¬ ry, who were extremely well mounted, and by swift and sud¬ den impressions commanded the whole coast. One day, when Caesar’s cavalry had nothing else to do, they diverted themselves with an African who danced and played upon the flute with great perfection. They had left their horses to the care of Soys, and sat attending to the entertain¬ ment with great delight, when the enemy coming upon them at once, killed part, and entered the camp with others, \\hu fled TV’ith great precipitation. Had not Caesar himself and * He embarked six leg’ions and two thousand liorse; but the number mentioneil by Plutarch was all that he lamled at first; many of the ship# having been separated by a storm. 3^8 JULIUS C^SJlR. Asinius Pollii? come to their assistance, and stopped thsir flighty the war would have been at an end that hour. In another en 2;agfcment, the enemy had the advantage again; on which oc¬ casion it was tliat Caesar took an ensign, who was running away, by the neck, and making him face about, said,—‘‘Look on this side for the enemy. Scipio, flushed with these successful preludes, was desirous to come to a decisive action. Therefore, leaving Afranius and Juba in their respective camps, which were at no great distance, he went in person to the camp above the lake, in the neighbourhood of Thapsus, to raise a fortification for a place of arms and an occasional retreat. While Scipio was con¬ structing his walls and ramparts, Caesar, with incredible des¬ patch, made his way through a country almost impracticable, by reason of its woods and difficult passes, and coming sud¬ denly upon him, attacked one part of his army in the rear, an¬ other in the front, and put the whole to flight. Then making the best use of his opportunity, and of the favour of fortune, with one tide of success he took the camp of Afranius, and destroyed that of the Numidians; Juba, their king, being glad to save himself by flight. Thus, in a small part of one day, he made himself master of three camps, and killed fifty thou¬ sand of the enemy, with the loss only of fifty men. Such is the account some give us of the action; others say, that as Caesar was drawing up his army, and giving his orders, he had an attack of his old distemper; and that upon its ap¬ proach, before it had overpowered and deprived him of his senses, as he felt the first agitations, he directed his people to carry him to a neighbouring tower, where he lay in quiet till the fit was over. Many persons of consular and praetorian dignity escaped out of the battle. Some of them being afterwards taken, des¬ patched themselves, and a number were put to death by Cie- sar. Having a strong desire to take Cato alive, the conqueror hastened to Utica,^ which Cato had the cliarge of, and for that reason was not in the battle; but by the way he was informed that he had killed himself, and his uneasiness at the news was very visible. As his officers were wondering what might :;e the cause of that uneasiness, he cried out,—“Cato, I en;y thee thy death, since thou enviedst me the glory of giving thee thy llfe.’^ Nevertheless, by the book which he wrote * Before C2esar left Utica, he gave orders for the rebuilding of Carthage, as he did, soon after his return to Italy, for the rebuilding of Corinth; so that these two cities were destroyed in the same year, and in the same year raised out of their ruins, in which they had lain about a hundred years. Two years after, they were both repeopled with RoiTian colonic.'i. JULIUS C.t:SAR. 359 against ( 3 ato after his death, it does not seem as if Le had any intentions of favour to him before; for how can it be thought he would have spared the living enemy, when he poured so mi:ch venom afterwards upon his grave? Yet, from his cle¬ mency to Cicero, to Brutus, and others without number, who had borne arms against him, it is conjectured that the book was not written with a spirit of rancour, but of political am¬ bition; for it was composed on such an occasion. Cicero bad written an encomium upon Cato, and he gave the name of Cato to the book. It was highly esteemed by many of the Romans, as might be expected, as well from the superior eloquence oi the author, as the dignity of the subject. Caesar was piqued at tbe success of a work, which, in praising a man who had killed himself to avoid falling into his hands, he thought in¬ sinuated something to the disadvantage of his character. He therefore wrote an answer to it, which he called Anti-Cato^ and which contained a variety of charges against that great man. Both books have still their friends, as a regard to the memory of Caesar or of Cato predominates. Caesar, after his return from Africa to Rome, spoke in high erms of his victory to the people. He told them he had sub¬ dued a country so extensive that it would bring yearly into the public stores two hundred thousand Attic^ measures of wheat, and three million of pounds of oil. After this, he led up his several triumphs over Egypt, Pontus, and Africa.t In the title of the latter, mention was not made of Scipio, but of Juba only. Juba, the son of that prince, then very young, walked in the procession. It proved a happy captivity for him; for of a barbarous and unlettered Numidian, he became a historian worthy to be numbered amUng tbe most learned of Greece. The triumph was followed by large donations to the soldiers, and feasts and public diversions for the people. He entertained them at twenty-two thousand tables, and presented them with a numerous show of gladiators and naval fights, in honour of his daughter Julia, who had been long dead. When those exhibitions were over,J an account was taken * Medimni. See the table of weights and measures. •[ Plutarch either forgot to make mention of the triumph over Gaul, which was the most considerable, or else tc-v yLiKTutov has dropt out of the text. ± Ruauld takes notice of three great mistakes in this passage. The first IS, where it said that Caesar took a census of the people. Suetonius does not mention iand Augustus himself, in the Marmora Ancyrana, says, that in his sixth consulate, that is, in the year of Rome 725, he numbered the peo j)le, whicii had not been done for forty-two years before. The sec« nd is, that before the civil wars broke out between Caesar and Pompey, the number of the people in Rome amounted to no more than three hundred and twen- 360 JULIUS C^SAR, of tlie citizens, who, from three hundred and twenty thousand^ were reduced to a hundred and fifty thousand. So fatal a calamity was the civil war, and such a number of the people did it take off, to say nothing of the misfortunes it hi ought upon the rest of Italy, and all the provinces of the empire. This business done, he was elected consul the fourth timCj and the first thing he undertook was to march into Spain against the sons of Pompey, who, though young, had assem¬ bled a numerous army, and showed a courage worthy the com¬ mand they had undertaken. The great battle which put a period to that war was fought under the walls of Munda. Csesar at first saw his men so hard pressed, and making so feeble a resistance, that he ran through the ranks^ auiidst the swords and spears, crying,—Are you not ashamed to deliv'er your general into the hands of boys?’’ The great and vigorous eflbrls this reproach produced, at last made the enemy turn their backs, and there were more than thirty thousand of them slain, whereas Csesar lost only a thousand, but those were some of the best men he had. As he retired after the battle, he told his friends,—He had often fought for victory, but that was the first time he had fought for his life.” He won this battle on the day of the LibemHaj^ which was the same day that Pompey the Great marched out four years before. The younger of Pompey’s sons made his escape: the other was taken by Didius, a few days after, who brought his head to Csesar. This was the last of his wars; and his triumph on account of it gave the Romans more pain than any other step he had taken. He did not now mount the car for having conquered foreign generals, or barbarian kings, but for ruining the chil¬ ly thousand; for long* before that it was much greater, and had continued upon tile increase. The last is, where it is asserted, that in less than three years those three hundred and twenty thousand were reduced, by that war, to a hundred and fifty thousand; the falsity of which assertion is evident from this, that a little while after Caesar made a draught of eighty thousand to be sent to foreign colonies. But what is still stronger, eighteen years after, Augustus took an account of the people, and found the number amount to four millions and sixty three thousand, as Suetonius assures us. From a pi-ssage in the same author, (Life of Caesar, chap, iv.) these mistakes of Plutarch took their rise. Suetonius there says,—‘^‘Recensum populi nec more nec loco solito, sed vicatim per dominos insularum egit: atque ex viginti trecentisque millibus accipientium frumentum e publico, ad centum quinquaginta retraxit.” Suetonius speaks there of the citizens who shared in the public corn, whom he found to amount to three hundred and twenty thousand; and probably because he perceived that distribution answered in many only the purposes of idleness, he reduced the number to a bundled and twenty thousand. Plutarch mistook recensum for censurrii and thii error led him into the other mistakes, * The seventeenth of March. JUUUS C^SAR. 3bl dren and destix»ying the race of one of the greatest men Rome nad ever pro.duced, though he proved at last unfortunate. All the world condemned his triumphing in the calamities of his country, and rejoicing in things which nothing could excuse, either before the gods or men, but extreme necessity. And it was the moie obvious to condemn it, because, before this he had never sent any messenger or letter to acquaint the public with any victory he had gained in the civil wars, but was ra¬ ther ashamed of such advantages. The Romans, howev^er, bowing to his power, and submitting to the bridle, because they saw no other respite from intestine wars and miseries, but the taking one man for their master, created him dictator for life. This was a complete tyranny; for to absolute power they added perpetuity. Cicero was the first who proposed that the senate should confer great honours upon Caesar, but honours within the measure of humanity, i hose who followed contended with each other which should make him the most extraordinary compliments, and by the absurdity and extravagance of their decrees rendered him odious and insupportable even to per¬ sons of candour. His enemies are supposed to vie with his flatterers in these sacrifices, that they might have the better pretence, and the more cause, to lift up their hands against him. This is probable enough, because, in other respects, after the civil wars were brought to an end, his conduct was irreproachable. It seems as if there was nothing unreasonable in their ordering a temple to be built to Clemency, in grati¬ tude for the mercy they had experienced in Caesar. For he not only pardoned most of those who had appeared against him in the field, but on some of them he bestowed honours and preferments; on Brutus and Cassius, for instance; for they were both praetors. The statues of Pompey had been thrown down, but he did not suffer them to lie in that posture; he erected them again. On which occasion Cicero said,—That Caesar by rearing Pompey’s statues, had established his own.’^ His friends pressed him to have a guard, and many offered to serve in that capacity, but he would not suffer it. For he said,—It was better to die once than to live always in fear of death.He esteemed the affection of the people the most honourable and the safest guard, and therefore endeavoured to gain them by feasts and distributions of corn, as he did the soldiers, by placing them in agreeable colonies. The most noted places that he colonized were Carthage and Corinth; of which it is remarkable, that as they were both taken and de¬ molished at the same time, so they w^ere at the same time restored. The nobility he gained by promising them consulates and V OL. Ill —2 Z 31 362 JULiaS CjESAR. prsetorships, or, ii they were engaged, by giving them other places of honour and profit. To all he opened the prospects of hope: for he was desirous to reign over a willing people. For this reason he was so studious to oblige, that when Fabiu.- Maximus died suddenly towards the close of his consulship, he appointed Caninus Rebilius^ consul for the day that re¬ mained. Numbers went to pay their respects to him, accord¬ ing to custom, and to conduct him to the senate-house; on which occasion Cicero said,—Let us make haste and pay our compliment to the consul before his office is expired.’^ Caesar had such talents for great attempts and so vast an am¬ bition, that the many actions he had performed by no means induced him to sit down and enjoy the glory he had acquired; they rather whetted his appetite for other conquests, produc¬ ed new designs equally great, together with equal confidence of success, and inspired him with a passion for fresh renown, as if he i.ad exhausted all the pleasures of the old. This pas¬ sion was nothing but a jealousy of himself, a contest with him self (as eager as if it had been with another man) to make his future achievements outshine the past. In this spirit he had formed a design, and was making preparations for war against the Parthians. After he had subdued them, he intended to traverse Hyrcania, and marching along by the Caspian sea and Mount Caucasus, to enter Scythia; to carry his conquering arms through the countries adjoining to Germany, and through Germany itself; and then to return by Gaul to Rome: thus finishing the circle of the Roman empire, as well as extending its bounds to the ocean on every side. During the preparations for this expedition, he attempted to dig through the Isthmus of Corinth, and committed the care of that work to Anienus.t He designed also to convey the Tiber by a deep channel directly from Rome to Circ3ei,and so into the sea near Tarracina, for the convenience as well as se- * Macrobius calls him Rchilus. •j- Av/»yov \7ri t«to Ttpoxitfua-ctum^. The Latin and French translators join this with the sentence that follows, and render it,—“ He desig-ned also to unite the Anio and the Tiber, and convey them by a deep channel directly from Home to Circjei,” &.c. But against the construction there is this strong ob¬ jection, that the Anio falls into the Tiber above Rome. In Greek, too, that river would be not Av/>»yo?. And if we admitted of that construction, what could be made of Awjjvcv iTri ranro which would literally be, having previously fitted the Anio to that purpose. On the other hand, it may be alleged, that possibly Plutarch might not know where the conflux of the Anio and the Tiber was; though, with re¬ spect to a man who had lived some time at Rome, it is scarce an admissible supposition. And we must acknowledge that we have not any where else met with Anienus as a Roman name. Suetonius takes no notice of Caesar’s intention to make this cut. itJLIUS CjESAR. 363 ei^nty of mercharits who traded to Rome. Another public- spirited work that he meditated, was to drain all the marshes by Nomentum^ and Setia, by which ground enough would be gained from the water to employ many thousands of hands in tillage. He proposed farther, to raise banks on the shore nearest Rome, to prevent the sea from breaking in upon the land; to clear the Ostian shore of its secret and dangerous ob¬ structions, and to build harbours fit to receive the many ves¬ sels that came in there. These things were designed, but did not take effect. He completed, however, the regulations of the calendar, and corrected the erroneous computation of time,t agreeably to a plan which he had ingeniously contrived, and vvnich proved of the greatest utility. For it was not only in ancient times that the Roman months so ill agreed with the revolution of the year, that the festivals and days of sacrifice, by little and little, fell back into seasons quite opposite to those of their in¬ stitution; but even in the time of Cxsar, when the solar year was made use of, the generality lived in perfect ignorance of the matter; and the priests, who were the only persons that knew any thing about it, used to add, all at once, and when nobody expected it, an intercalary month, called MercidoniuSj of which Numa was the inventor. Thot remedy, however, proved much too weak, and was far from operating extensive¬ ly enough to correct the great miscornp, .a:ion of time; as we have observed in that prince’s life. C^sar having proposed the question to the most able philo¬ sophers and mathematicians, publi^died, cpcn principles alrea dy verified, a new and more exact .:egU‘atlon, which the Ro¬ mans still go by, and by that mean^' a.e nearer the truth than other nations with respect to the ditieience between the sun’s revolution and that of the twelve montns. Yet this useful in¬ vention furnished matter of ridicule to tiie envious, and to those who could but ill brook his power. For Cicero, (if I mistake not,) when some one happened to say,—“ Lyra will rise to-morrow,” answered,— Undoubtedly; there is an edict for it:” as if the calendar was foiced upon them, as well as other things. But the principal thing that excited the public hatred, and at last caused his death, was his passion for the title of king * It appears from a passage in Suetonius, Vit. Cap.s. c. 44, Siccan Pomvti' naspaludes, as well as from another Strabo, Ed. Par. 1. v. p. 231, C. I) that for Nomentum we should here re ad Pomentium. -j- I'hrough means of that erroneous computation, the Roman calendar had gained near three months in the time v f Caesar. Before this, endeavours had been used to correct the irregularity ; but it never could be done with exact ness. See the life of Numa. JULIUS C^SAR. It was the first thing that gave offence to the multitude, and it afforded his inveterate enemies a very plausible plea. Those who wanted to procure him that honour, gave it out among the people, that it appeared, from the Sibylline books,—The Komans could never conquer the Parthians, except they went to war under the conduct of a king.^^ And one day, w’hen Caesar retuned from Alba to Rome, some of his retainers ven¬ tured to salute him by that title. Observing that the people were troubled at this strange compliment, he put on an air of resentment, and said,—He was not called king, but Caesar.’’ Upon this, a deep silence ensued, and he passed on in no good humour. Another time the senate having decreed him some extrava¬ gant honours, the consuls and praetors, attended by the whole body of patricians, went to inform him of what they had done. When they came, he did not rise to receive them, but kept his seat, as if they had been persons in a private station; and his answer to their address was,—That there was more need to retrench his honours, than to enlarge them.” This haugh¬ tiness gave pain not only to the senate, but the people, who thought the contempt of that body reflected dishonour upon the whole commonwealth; for all who could decently withdraw, went off greatly dejected. Perc nving the false step he had taken, he retired, immedi¬ ately to his own house, and laying his neck bare, told his friends,—He was readv for the first hand that would strike.” ' •/ He then bethought himself of alleging his distemper as an ex¬ cuse, and asserted, that those who are under its influence, are apt to find their faculties fail them when they speak standing; a trembling and giddiness coming upon them, which bereaves them of their senses. This, however, was not really the case; for it is said he was desirous to rise to the senate: but Corne¬ lius Balhus, one of his friends, or rather flatterers, held him, and had servility enough to say,—Will you not remember that you are Caesar, and suffer them to pay their court to you as their superior.” These discontents w'ere greatly increased by the indignity with which he treated the tribunes of the people. In the Lu- percolia^ which, according to most writers, is an ancient pas toral feast, and which answers in many respects to the Lycsea among the Arcadians, young men of noble families, and indeed many of the magistrates, run about the streets naked, and, by way of diversion, strike all they meet with leathern thongs with the hair upon them. Numbers of women of the first quality put themselves in their way, and present their hands lor stripes (as scholars do to a master), being persuaded that die pregnant sain an easv delivery by it, and that the bari*en JULIUS CiESAR. 36i are enabled to conceive. Caesar wore a triumphal rube tliat day, and seated himself in a golden chair upon the rostra^ to see the ceremony. Antony ran among the rest, in compliance with the rules o* the festival, for he was consul. When he came into the forum^ and the crowd had made way for him, he approached Caesar, and offered him a diadem wreathed with laurel. Upon this «inn-ie plaudits were heard, but very feeble, because they pro¬ ceeded only from persons placed there on purpose. Caesar re¬ fused it, and then the plaudits were loud and general. Anto¬ ny presented it once more, and few applauded his olhcious- ness; but when Caesar rejected it again, the applause again was general. Caesar, undeceived by his second trial, rose up, and ordered the diadem to be consecrated in the Capitol. A few days after, his statues were seen adorned with royal diadems; and Flavius and Marullus, two of the tribunes went and tore them off. They also found out the persons who first saluted Caesar king, and committed them to prison. The peo¬ ple followed with cheerful acclamations, and called them Bru- tuses^ because Brutus was the man who expelled the kings, and put the government in the hands of the senate and people. Caesar, highly incensed at their behaviour, deposed the tri¬ bunes; and by way of reprimand to them, as well as insult to the people, called them several times Brutes and Cumaeans.^ Upon this, many applied to Marcus Brutus, who, by the fa¬ ther’s side, was supposed to be a descendant of that ancient Brutus, and whose mother was of the illustrious house of the Servilii. He was also nephew and son-in-law to Cato. No man was more inclined than he to lift his hand against mon¬ archy, but he was withheld by the honours and favours he had received from Caesar, who had not only given him his life after the defeat of Pompey at Pharsalia, and pardoned many of his friends at his request, but continued to honour him with his confidence. That very year he had procured him the most honourable praetorship, and he had named him for the consulship four years after, in preference to Cassius, who was his competitor. On which occasion Caesar is reported to have * One thing- which Strabo mentions as an instance of the stupidity of the Cumxans, namely, tlieir not laying any duty upon merchandise imported in¬ to their harbour, seems to be a very equivocal proof of it: for their leaving the port free might bring them trade, and make them a flourishing people. Another thing which he mentions, (though it is scarce worth repeating,) is, that they had mortgaged their porticoes, and, upon failure of payment of the money, were proliibited by their creditors from walking under them; but, at last, when some heavy rains came on, public notice was given by the creditors, that their debtors would be indulged that favour. Hence, he tells •js that saying,—“ I'he (/um?eans have not sense to get under shelte r when drains, till they are put i i mind of it by the crier.” 366 JULIUS CJESAH. said, —^‘Cassius assigns the strongest reasons, but I can not Tt fuse Brutus/^ Some impeached Brutus after the conspiracy was formed^ but, instead of listening to them, he laid his hand on his body, and said,—Brutus will wait for this skin;^’ intimating, that, though the virtue of Brutus rendered him worthy of empire, he would not be guilty of any ingratitude or baseness to ob¬ tain it. Those, however, who were desirous of a change, kept cheir eyes upon him only, or principally at least; and as they durst not speak out plain, they put billets night after ni^ht in the tribunal and seat which he used as praetor, mostly in these terms:—Thou sleepest, Brutus;’’ or, Thou art not Brutus.*’ Cassius perceiving his friend’s ambition a little stimulated by these papers, began to ply him closer than before, and spur him on to the great enterprise: for he had a particular enmity against Caesar, for the reasons which we have mentioned in the life of Brutus. Caesar, too, had some suspicion of him, and he even said one day to his friends,—“ What think you of Cassius? 1 do not like his pale looks.” Another time, when Antony and Dolabella were accused of some designs against his person and government, he said,—I have no apprehen¬ sions from those fat and sleek men; I rather fear the pale and lean ones;” meaning Cassius and Brutus. It seems, from this instance, that fate is not so secret, as it is inevitable; for we are told there were strong signs and pre¬ sages of the death of Caesar. As to the lights in the heavens, the strange noises* heard in various quarters by night, and the appearance of solitary birds in the yorwm, perhaps they deserve not our notice in so great an event as this. But some atten¬ tion should be given to Strabo the philosopher. According to him, there were seen in the air men of fire encountering each other; such a flame appeared to issue from the hand of a soldier’s servant, that all the spectators thought it must be burnt, yet, when it was over, he found no harm; and one of the victims which Caesar offered, was found without a heart. The latter was certainly a most alarming prodigy; for, accord¬ ing to the rules of nature, no creature can exist without a heart. Wliat is still more extraordinary, many report, that a certain soothsayer forewarned him of a great danger which threaten¬ ed him on the ides of March; and that when the day was conic, as he was going to the senate-house, he called to the sooth¬ sayer, and said, laughing,—The ides of March are come;” to which he answered softly,—Yes; but they are not gone.” * With some of the manuscripts, we read KTTTlOTi; vvK'rct'^ ?roK>^ctKii If the common reading* TTFIOTS k. t. k. be preferred, the sensfl srill be, the speHre^ seen swimming about in the night. ■ XULTL'S C^SAR. 367 khe crenin^ before, he supped with Marcus Lepidus, and signed, according to custom, a number of letters, as he sat at table. While he was so employed, there arose a question,— What kind of death was the best?” and Ca'sar answering before them all, cried out,—A sudden one.” The same night, as he was in bed with his wife, the doors and windows of the room flew open at once. Disturbed both with tne noise and the light, he observed, by moonshine, Calpurnia in a deeu sleep, uttering broken words and inarticulate groans. She dreamed that she was weepingover him, as she held him, mur¬ dered, in her arms. Others say, she dreamed that the pinna¬ cle^ was fallen, w’hich, as Livy tells us, the senate had order¬ ed to be erected upon C-<3esar’s house by way of ornament and distinction; and that it was the fall of it which she lamented and wept for. Be that as it may, next morning she conjured Caesar not to go out that day, if he could possibly avoid it, but to adjourn the senate; and if he paid no regard to her dreams, to have recourse to some other species of divination, or to sacrifices, for information as to his fate. This gave him some suspicion and alarm; for he had never known before, in Calpurnia, any thing of the weakness or superstition of her sex, though she was now so much afl'ected. He, therefore, offered a number of sacrifices, and, as the di¬ viners found no auspicious tokens in any of them, he sent An¬ tony to dismiss the senate. In the meantime, Decius Brutus,t surnamed Albinus, came in. He was a person in whom Caesar placed such confidence, that he had appointed him his second heir; yet he was engaged in the conspiracy with the other Brutus and Cassius. This man, fearing, that if Caesar ad¬ journed the senate to another day, the affair might be disco¬ vered, laughed at the diviners, and told Caesar he would be highly to blame, if, by such a slight, he gave the senate an oc¬ casion of complaint against him:—“For they were met,” he said, “ at his summons, and came prepared with one voice to honour him with the title of king in the provinces, and to grant that he should wear the diadem both by land and sea, every where out of Italy. But if any one go and tell them, now they have taken their places, they must go home again, and return when Calpurnia happens to have better dreams, what room will your enemies have to launch out against you? or who will hear your friends, when they attempt to show, that * The pinnacle was an ornament nsnally placed upon the top of their temples, and was commonly adorned with some statues of tlieir gods, figures of victory, or other symbolical device. f Plutarch finding a D prefixed to Brutus, took it for DeciitSy but his name was Decir/ us Brutu^i. See Appiun and Suefirnhis. 369 JULIUS CiESAK. this is not an open servitude on the one hand, and tyranny on the other? If you are absolutely persuaded that this is an unlucky day, it is certainly better to go yourself, and teh them you have strong reasons for putting off business till ano¬ ther time.’^ So saying, he took Caesar by the hand, and led him out. He was not gone far from the door, when a slave, who be¬ longed to some other person, attempted to get up to speak to him, but finding it impossible, by reason of the crowd that was about him, he made his way into the house, and putting him¬ self into the hands of Calpurnia, desired her to keep him safe till Caesar’s return, because he had matters of great importance to communicate. Artemidorus the Cnidian, who, by teaching the Greek elo¬ quence, became acquainted with some of Bratus’'s friends, and had got intelligence of most of the transactions, approached Caesar with a paper, explaining what he had to discover. Ob¬ serving that he gave the papers, as fast as he received them, to his officers, he got up as close as possible, and said,—Cae¬ sar, read this to yourself, and quickly; for it contains matters of great consequence, and of the last concern to you.” He took it and attempted sevei'al times to read it, but was always prevented by one application or other. He, therefore, kept that paper, and that only in his hand, when he entered the house. Some say, it was delivered to him by another man,^ Artemidorus being kept from approaching him all the way by the crowd. These things might, indeed, fall out by chance; but as in the place where the senate was that day assembled, and wffiich proved the scene of that tragedy, there was a statue of Pom- pey, and it was an edifice which Pompey had consecrated for an ornament to his theatre, nothing can be clearer than that some deity conducted the whole business, and directed the execution of it to that very spot. Even Cassius himself, though inclined to the doctrines of Epicurus, turned his eye to the statue of Pompey, and secretly invoked his aid, before the great attempt. The arduous occasion, it seems, overruled his former sentiments, and laid him open to all the influence of enthusiasm. Antony, who was a faithful friend to Cs?sar, and a man of great strength, was held in discourse w:thout by Brutus Albinius, who had contrived a long story to c.elaia him. When Csesar entered the house, the senate rose to do liim honour. Some of Brutus’s accomplices came up behind his * By Caius Trebonius. So Plutarch says in the life of Brutusj Apiuaa Bays the same; and Cicero^ too^ in his second Philippic* JULIUS CjESAR. 369 cfiair, and others before it, preter)ding to intercede along with Metillius Cimbri,^ for the recall of his brother from exile. They continued their instances till he came to his seat. When he was seated, he gave them a positive denial; and as they continued their importunities with an air of compulsion, he grew angry. Ciniber,t then, with both hands, pulled his gown off his neck, which was the signal for the attack. Casca gave him the first blow. It was a stroke upon the neck with his sword, but the wound was not dangerous; for in the beginning of so tremendous an enterprise he was probably in some dis¬ order. Caesar, therefore, turned upon him, and laid hold of his sword. At the same time, they both cried out, the one in Latin,—Villain! Casca! what dost thou mean?’^ and the other ?n Greek, to his brother,—Brother, help!’’ After such a beginning, those who knew nothing of the con spiracy were seized with consternation and horror, insomuch fhat they durst neither fly, nor assist, nor even utter a word. All the conspirators now drew their swords, and surrounded him in such a manner, that whatever way be turned he saw nothing but steel gleaming in his face, and met nothing but wounds. Like some savage beast attacked by tne hunters, he found every hand lifted against him, for they all agreed to have a share in the sacrifice and a taste of his blood. There¬ fore Brutus himself gave him a stroke in the groin. Some say, he opposed the rest, and continued struggling and crying out till he perceived the sword of Brutus; then be drew his robe over his face, and yielded to his fate. Either by acci¬ dent, or pushed thither by the conspirators, he expired on the pedestal of Pompey’s statue, and dyed it with his blood: so that Pompey seemed to preside over the work of vengeance, to tread his enemy under his feet, and to enjoy his agonies. Those agonies were great, for he received no less than three- and-twenty wounds; and many of the conspirators wounded each other as they were aiming their blows at him. Caesar thus despatched, Brutus advanced to speak to the senate, and to assign his reasons for what he had done; but they could not bear to hear him; they fled out of the house, and filled the people with inexpressible horror and dismay. Some shut up their houses; others left their shops and coun¬ ters: all were in motion: one was running to see the spectacle; another running back. Antony and Lepidus, Caesar’s prin- * Metillius is plainly a corruption. Suetonius calls him Cimher Tullius. In Appian he is called Antilius Cirnher, and there is a medal which beam that name; but that medal is believed to be spurious. Some call him Me- tellus Cimher; and others suppose we sliould reid M. Tullius Cimber. t Here in the orig-inal it is Metillius ag'ain. VoL. III.- 3 \ :570 JULIUS CiLSAR. cipal friends, withdrew, and hid themselves in other peoj)le J houses. Meantime, Brutus and his confederates, yet warm from the slaughter, marched in a body, with their bloody swords in their hands, from the senate-house to the Capitol, not like men that fled, but with an air of gaiety and confldence, calling the people to liberty, and stopping to talk with every man of conseau?-r*ce wliom they met. There were some who even joined iKein, and mingled with their train; desirous of appearing to have had a share in the action, and hoping for one in the g^ory. Of this n unber were Caius Octavius and Lentulus ^'rinther, who afterwards paid dear for their vanity, being put to death by Antony and young Caesar; so that they gained not e^en the honour which they lost their lives; for nobody believed that they had any part in the enterprise, and they were punished, not for the deed, hut for the will. jSiext day. Brute s and the rest of the conspirators came down from the Capitol, and addressed the people, who attend¬ ed to their discourse without expressing either dislike or ap¬ probation of what was done. But by their silence it appear¬ ed that they pitied Caesar, at the same time that they revered Brutus. The senate passed a general amnesty; and, to recon¬ cile all parties, they decreed Caesar divine honours, and con¬ firmed all the acts of his dictatorship, while on Brutus and his friends they bestowed governments, and such honours as were suitable: so that it was generally imagined the commonwealth was firmly established again, and all brought into the best order. But when, upon the opening of Caesar’s will, it was found that he had left every Roman citizen a considerable legacy, and they beheld the body, as it was carried through tlie forum, all mangled with wounds, the multitude could no longer be kept within bounds. They stopped the procession, and tear¬ ing up the benches, with the doors and tables, heaped them into a pile, and burnt the corpse there. Then snatching flam¬ ing brands from the pile, some ran to burn the houses of the assassins, while others ranged the city to find the conspirators themselves, and tear them in pieces; but they had taken such care to secure themselves, that they could not meet with one of them. One Cinna, a friend of Caesar’s, had a strange dream the preceding night. • He dreamed (as they tell us) that Caesar in¬ vited him to supper, and, upon his refusal to go, caught him by the hand, and drew him after him, in spite of all the re¬ sistance he could make. Hearing, however, that the body of Caesar was to he burnt in the forum, he went to assist in doing him the last honours, though he had a fever upon him, the consequence of his uneasiness about his drc:am. On his com- JUI.IUS CJhlSAR. 37 i mg up, one of the populace asked;—Who tliat was?’^ and having learned his name, told it his next neighbour. A re* port immediately spread through the whole company, that it was one of Caesar’s murderers; and, indeed, one of the conspi rators was named Cinna. The multitude, taking this for the man, fell upon him, and^tore him to pieces upon the spot. Brutus and Cassius were so terrified at this rage of the popir lace, that a few days after they left the city. An account of their subsequent actions, sufferings, and death, may be found in the life of Brutus. Caesar died at the age of fifty-six, and did not survive Bom- pey above four years. His object was sovereign power and authority, which he pursued through innumerable dangers, and by prodigious efforts he gained it at last. But he reaped no other fruit from it than an emjity and an invidious title. It is true, the Divine Power which conducted him through life, attended him after his deatli as his avenger, pursued and hunt¬ ed out the assassins over sea and land, and rested not till there was not a man left, either of those who dipped their hands in his blood, or ol those who gave their sanction to th(i deed. The most remarkable of natural events relative to this affair, was, that Cassius, after he had lost the battle of Phili]ipi, kill¬ ed himself with the same dagger which he made use of against Caesar; and the most signal phenomenon in the heavens was that of a great cornet,'^ which shone very bright for seven nights after Caesar’s death, and then disappeared. To which we may add the fading of the sun’s lustre; for his orb looked pale all that year; he rose not with a sparkling radiance, nor had the heat he afforded its usual strength. The air, of course, was dark and heavy for want of that vigorous heat which clears and rarifies it; and the fruits were so crude and unconcocted, that they pined away and decayed, through the chillness of the atmosphere. We have a proof still more striking that the assassination of Caesar was displeasing to the gods, in the phantom that ap¬ peared to Brutus. The story of it is this:—Brutus was on the point of transporting his army from Abydos te the opposite continent; and the night before he lay in his tent, awake, ac¬ cording to custom, and in deep thought about what might be the event of the war; for it was natural to him to watch ereal * A comet made its appearance in the north, while we were celebratini* the g*ames in honour of Caesar, and shone bright for sev’en days. It rose about the eleventh hour of the day, and was seen b} all nations. It was commonly believed to be a sig*!! that the soul of Ca:sar was admitted among" the gods; for which reason we added a star to the head of his statue, conse¬ crated soon af*^^er in the forum.^* — Fragm. Aug. Caes. ap. Plin. 1. li. c. 25. ' 372 JULIUS CJLSAIi part of the night; and no general ever required so little sleep. W>th all his senses about him^ he heard a noise at the door of his tent, and looking towards the light, which was now burnt very low, he saw a terrible appearance in the human form, but of prodigious stature, and the most hideous aspect. At first, he was struck with astonishment; but when he saw it neither did nor spoke any thing to him, but stood in silence by his bed, he asked it,—Who it was?^^ The spectre an¬ swered,—I am thy evil genius, Brutus; thou sbalt see me at Philippi.Brutus answered boldly,—I’ll meet thee there;” and the spectre immediately vanished. Some time after, he engaged Antony and Octavius Caesar at Philippi, and the first day was victorious, carrying all before him where he fought in person, and even pillaging Caesar’s camp. The night Wfore he was to fight the second battle, the same spectre appeared to him again, but spoke not a word. Brutus, hovrever, understood, that his last hour was near, and courted danger with all the violence of despair. Yet he did not fall in the action; but seeing all lost, he retired to the top of a rock, where he presented his naked sword to his breast, and a friend, as they tell us, assisting the thrust, he died upon the spot.* * Whatever Plutarch’s motive may have been, it is certain that he has g’iven us a very inadequate and imperfect idea of the character of Csesar. The life he has written is a confused jumble of facts, snatched from differ¬ ent historians, without order, consistency, regularity, or accuracy. He has left us none of those finer and minuter traits, which, as he elsewhere justly observes, distinguish and characterize the man more than his most popular and splendid operations. He has written the life of Caesar like a man under restraint; has skimmed over his actions, and shown a manifest satisfaction when he could draw the attention of the reader to other characters and cir¬ cumstances, however insignificant, or how often soever repeated by himself in the narrative of other lives. Yet, from the little light he has afforded us, and from the better accounts of other historians, we may easily discover that Csesar was a man of gi’eat and distinguished virtues. Had he been as able in his political as he was in his military capacity; had he been capable of hiding, or even of managing that openness of mind which was the con¬ nate attendant of his liberality and ambition, the last prevailing passion would not have blinded him so far as to put so early a period to his race of Iflorj. THE LIFE OF PHOCION. Oemades the orator, by studying in his whole adminislra tion to please the Macedonians and Antipater, had great au¬ thority in Athens. When he found himself l)y that complai¬ sance often obliged to propose laws and make speeches injuri¬ ous to the dignity and virtue of his country, he used to say,— He was excusable, because he came to the helm when the commonwealth was no more than a wreck.^^ This assertion, which, in him, was unwarrantable, was true enough when ap¬ plied to the administration of Phocion. Demades was the ^^ery man who wrecked his country. He pursued such a vicious plan, both in his private and public conduct, that An¬ tipater scrupled not to say of him, when he was growing old, —That he was like a sacrificed beast, all consumed except his tongue and his paunch.^ But the virtue of Phocion found a strong and powerful adversary in the times, and its glory was obscured in the gloomy period of Greece’s misfortunes. For V^irtue is not so weak as Sophocles would make her, nor is the sentiment just which he puts in the mouth of one of the persons of his drama,— — — The firmest mind will fail Beneath misfortune’s stroke, and, stunn’d, depart Vrom its sage plan of action.-j- Atl the advantage that Fortune can truly be affirmed to gain in her combats with the good and virtuous, is the bringing upon them unjust reproach and censure, instead of the honour and esteem which are their due, and by that means lessening the confidence the world would have in their virtue. It is imagined, indeed, that when affairs prosper, the peo¬ ple, elated with their strength and success, behave with greater insolence to good ministers: but it is the very reverse. Mis- * The longue and the paunch were not burnt with the rest of the victim. The paunch used to be stuffed and served up at table, and the tongue was burnt on the altar at the end of the entertainment, in honour of Mercury, and had libations poired upon it. Of this there are many examples ly Homer’s Odyssey. + Sophoc. Antig. 1. 569 and 570. VoL III 32 374 IMIOCION. fortunes always sour their temper; the least thing will then disturb them; they take fire at trifles; and they are impatient at the least severity of expression. He who reproves their faults, seems to reproach them with their misfortunes, and every bold and free address is considered as an insult As honey makes a wounded or ulcerated rriember smart, so it of¬ ten happens, that a remonstrance, though pregnant with truth and sense, hurts and Irritates the distressed, if it is not gentle and mild in the application. Hence Homer often expresses such things as are pleasant by the word menoikts^ which signi¬ fies what is symphonioiis to the mhid^ what sooths its weakness, and bears not hard upon its inclinations. Inflamed eyes love to dwell upon dark brown colours, and avoid such as are bright and glaring. So it is with a state, in any series of ill-conduct¬ ed and unprosperous measures. Such is the feeble and relax¬ ed condition of its nerves, that it can not bear the least alarm, the voice of truth, which brings its faults to its remembrance, gives it inexpressible pain, though not only salutary, but ne¬ cessary; and it will not be heard, except its harshness is modi¬ fied. It is a difficult task to govern such a people; for if the man who tells them the truth, falls the first sacrifice, he who flatters them, at last perishes with them. The mathematicians say, the sun does not move in the same direction as the heavens, nor yet in a direction quite opposite, but circulating with a gentle and almost insensible obliquity, gives the whole system such a temperature as tends to its pre¬ servation. So in a system of government, if a statesman is de¬ termined to describe a straight line, and in all things to go against the inclinations of the people, such rigour niust make his administration odious; and, on the other hand, if he suf¬ fers himself to be carried along with their most erroneous mo¬ tions, the government will soon be in a tottering and ruinous state. The latter is the more common error of the two. But the politics which keep a middle course, sometimes slackening the reigns, and sometimes keeping a tighter hand, indulging the people in one point to gain another that is more important, are the only measures that are formed upon rational principles: for a well-timed condescension and moderate treatment will bring men to concur in many useful schemes, which they could not be brought into by despotism and violence. It must be acknowledged, that this medium is difficult to hit upon, be¬ cause it requires a mixture of dignity with gentleness; but when the just temperature is gained, it presents the happiest and most perfect harmony that can be conceived. It is by this sublime harmony the Supreme Being governs the world; for nature is not dragged into -obedience to his commands; and though his influence is irresistible, it is rational and mild. PIIOCION. 375 - The eSects of austerity were seen in the younger Cato. There was nothing engaging or popular in his behaviour; he never studied to oblige the people, and, therefore, his weight in the administration was not great. Cicero says,—He acted as if he had lived in the commonwealth of Plato, not in the dregs of Romulus, and by that means fell short of the consu¬ late.’’^ His case appears to me to have been the same with that of fruit which comes out of season; people look upon it with pleasure and admiration, but they make no use of it. Thus, the old-fashioned virtue of Cato, making its appearance amidst the luxury and corruption which time bad introduced, had all the splendour of reputation which such a phenomenon could claim, but it did not answer the exigencies of the state; it was disproportioned to the times, and too ponderous and un¬ wieldy for use. Indeed, his circumstances were not altogether like those of Phocion, who came not into the administration till the state was sinking;! wdiereas Cato had only to save the ship beating about in the storm. At the same time, we must allow that be had not the principal direction of her; he sat not at the helm; he could not do more than help to hand the sails ■and the tackle. Yet he maintained a noble conflict with For¬ tune, who, having determined to ruin the commonwealth, ef¬ fected it by a variety of hands, but wdth great difficulty, by slow steps and gradual advances. So near was Rome being saved hy Cato and Cato’s virtue! With it w^e would compare that of Phocion; not in a general manner, so as to say they were both persons of integrity and able statesmen: for there is a difference between valour and valour; for instance, betw^een that of Alcibiades and that of P^paminondas. The prudence ot Themistocles and that of Aristides were not the same; justice was of one kind in Numa, and in Agesilaus of another; but the virtues of Phocion and Cato \cere the same in the most miiiute particular; their impression, form, and colour, are perfectly similar. Thus, their severity of manners was equally temper¬ ed w’ith humanity, and their valour with caution; they had the same solicHude for others, and disregard for themselves; the same abhorrence of evt i y thing base and dishonourable, and the same firm attachment justice on all occasions; so that it re¬ quires a very delicate expression, like the finely discriminated * The passage here referred to is in the first epistle of Cicero^s second Dook to Attacus. But we find nothing there of the repulse Cato met with in his application for the consulsliip. That repulse, indeed, did not happen fill eight years after the date of that epistle. ■j' Our author means, that uncommon and extraordinary efforts were more necessary to save the poor remains of a wreck, than to keep a ship, yet whole and entire from sinking. 376 PHOCTON. sound? of the oigan,* to mark the difference in their charac ters. It is universally agreed, that Cato was of an illustrious pedi gree, wliich we shall give some account of in his life; and we conjecture, that Phocion’s was not mean or obscure; for had he been the son of a turner, it would certainly have been men¬ tioned by Glaucippus the son of Hyperides, among a thousand other things, in the treatise which he wrote on purpose to dis¬ parage him. Nor if his birth had been so low, would he have had so good an education, or such a liberal mind and manners. It is certain, that when very young, he was in tuition with Plato, and afterwards with Xenocrates in the Academy; and from the very first he distinguished himself by his strong ap¬ plication to the most valuable studies. Duris tells us, the Athenians never saw him either laugh or cry, or make use of a public bath, or put his hand from under his cloak when he was dressed to appear in public. If he made an excursion into the country, or marched out to war, he went always barefooted, and without his upper garment too, except it happened to be intolerably cold; and then his soldiers used to laugh and say ,—‘‘ It is a sign of a sharp winter; Phocion has got his clothes on.’^ He was one of the most humane and best-tempered men in the world, and yet he had so ill-natured and forbidding a look, * 'riCTi XWTK TTctvu hjyn Siia-^a.1, xci^ciTTift o^yuva Trgog Kcti ctviupio-tv Tav The organ here mentioned was probably that invented by Ctesibius, who, according to Athenaeus, placed in the temple of Zephyrus, at Alexandria, a tube, which collecting air by the appulsive motion of water, emitted musical sounds, either by their strength adapted to war, or by their light* ness to festivity. Hedylus, in his elegies, mentions this organ under the title of Kiftd?. ZupO^OTClt Kill 'Turo eople to give no credit to it;—for,” said he, if Alex¬ ander were dead, the whole world would smell the carcase.” And Phocion seeing the Athenians elated, and inclined to raise new commotions, endeavoured to keep them quiet. Many of the orators, however, ascended the rostrum, and assured the people, that the tidings of Asclepiades were true:—“ Well, then,” said Phocion, “ if Alexander is dead to-day, he will be so to-morrow, and the day following; so that we may deli¬ berate on that event at our leisure, and take our measures with safety. When Leosthenes, by his inirigues, had involved Athens in the Lamian war,^ and saw how much Phocion was displeased at it, ne asked him, in a scoff’ng manner,—What good he had done his country during the many years that he was ge¬ neral?” And dost thou think it nothing, then,” said Phocion, “for the Athenians to be buried in the sepulchres of their an¬ cestors?” As Leosthenes continued to harangue the people in the most arrogant and pompous manner, Phocion said,— “ Young man, your speeches are like cypress-trees, large and lofty, but without fi'uit.” Hyperides rose up and said,— “ Tell us, then, what will be the proper time for the Athenians to go to war?” Phocion answered,—“ 1 do not think it advi¬ sable, till the young men keep within the bounds of order and propriety, the rich become liberal in their contributions, and the orators forbear robbing the public.” Most people admired the forces raised by Leosthenes; and when they asked Phocion his opinion of them, he said,—“ I like them very well for a short race,t but I dread the conso * In the ong’inal it is the Grecian war; and mig-lit, indeed, be so called, because it was carried on by the Grecian confederates ag-ainst the Macedo¬ nians. But it was commonly called the Lamian war, from Antipater’s be¬ ing defeated, and shvt up in Lamia. The Boeotians were the only natior which did not join the Grecian league.— Diodor. Sic. lib. xviii. f Or rather,—“1 think they may run very well from the starting post to the extremity of the course; but I know not how they will hold it back again.” The Greeks had two sorts of races, the stadium, in which they ran only right out to the goal, and the dollchus, in which they ran Tight out, and then back again. PHOCION. 3yi juence of a long one. The supplies, the ships, the soldiers, ire all very good; but they are the last we can produce.’’ The event justified his observation. Leosthenes at first gained great reputation by his achievements; for he defeated the Boeo¬ tians in a pitched battle, and drove Ant’pater into Lamia. On (his occasion the Athenians, borne upon the tide of hope, spent their time in mutual entertainments, and in sacrifices to the gods. Many of them thought, too, they had a fine oppor¬ tunity to play upon Phocion, and asked him,—Whether lie should not have wished to have done such great things?” Certainly I should,” said Phocion; but still 1 should ad¬ vise not to have attempted them.” And when letters and messengers from the army came one after another, with an ac¬ count of farther success, he said,—When shall we have done conquering?” Leosthenes died soon after; and the party which was for continuing the war, fearing that if Phocion was elected gene¬ ral, he would be for putting an end to it, instructed a man that was little known, to make a motion in the assembly, import¬ ing ,—‘‘ That as an old friend and school-fellow of Phocion, he desired the people to spare him, and preserve him for ^he most pressing occasions, because thei'e was not another man in their dominions to be compared to him.” At the same time he was to recommend Antiphilus for the command. The Athe¬ nians embracing the proposal, Phocion stood up, and told them,—He never was that man’s school-fellow, nor had he any acquaintance with him;” but from this moment, said he, turning to him, I shall number thee among my best friends, since thou hast advised what is most agreeable to me.” The Athenians were strongly inclined to prosecute the war with the Boeotians, and Phocion at first as strongly opposed it. His friends represented to him, that this violent opposition of his would provoke them to put him to death:—They may do it if they please,” said he: ‘‘ it will be unjustly, if I advise them for the best; but justly, if I should prevaricate.” How¬ ever, when he saw that they were not to be persuaded, and that they continued to besiege him with clamour, he ordercf^ a herald to make proclamation,—'fhat all the Athenians, who were not more than sixty years above the age of puber¬ ty, should take five days’ provisions and follow him in)medi- ately from the assembly to the field*”* * T*dLt(Ji TTOUrTTi K^V^St-pa hlJUtfV. t The cruel disposition of Antipater^ who had insisted upon Demosthe¬ nes and Hyperides being given up to his revenge, made the coi'duct of Philip and Alexander comparatively amiable. 396 PHOCION. trymen afterwards upon the death of Antigonus. Those who killed that prince and reigned in his stead, were scj oppressi\e and tyrannical, that a Phrygian peasant, who was digging the ground, being asked what he was seeking, said, with a sigh,— I am seeking for Antigonus.^^ Many of the Athenians ex¬ pressed equal concern, now when they remembered the great and generous turn of mind in those kings, and how easily their anger was appeased: whereas Antipater, \vho endeav^ jred to conceal his power under the mask of a private man, a mean habit, and ^ plain diet, was infinitely more rigorous to those under his command, and, in fact, an oppressor and a tyrant. Yet. at the request of Phocion, he recalled many persons from exiie; and to such as he did not choose to restore to their own country, granted a commiodious situation; for, instead of being forced to reside, like other exiles, beyond the Ceraunian moun¬ tains, and the promontory of Tsenarus, he suffered them to re¬ main in Greece, and settle in Peloponnesus. Of this number was Agnonides the informer. In some other instances he governed with equity. He di¬ rected the police of Athens in a just and candid manner; rais¬ ing the modest and the good to the principal employments, and excluding the uneasy and the seditious from all offices; so that, having no opportunity to excite troubles, the spirit of faction died away; and he taught them by little and little to love the country, and apply themselves to agriculture. Ob¬ serving one day that Xenocrates paid a tax as a stranger, he offered to make him a present of his freedom; but he refused it, and assigned- this reason,—I will never be a member of that government, to prevent the establishment of which I acted in a public character.^’ Menyllus was pleased to offer Phocion a considerable sum of money. But he said,—Neither is Menyllus a greater man than Alexander; nor have I a greater reason to receive a present now than I had then.’’ The governor pressed him to take it at least for his son Phocus; nut he answered,—If Phocus becomes sober, his father’s estate will be sufficient for him; and if he continues dissolute, nothing will be so.” He gave Antipater a more severe answer, when he wanted him to do something inconsistent with his probity:—Antipater,” said he^ can not have me both for a friend and a flatterer.” And Antipater hiinself used to say,—I have two friends in Athens, Phocion and Demades; it is impossible either to per¬ suade the one to any thing, or to satisfy the other.” Indeed Phocion had his poverty to show as a proof of his virtue; for, though he had so often commanded the Athenian armies, and was honoured with the friendship of so many kings, he grew old in indigence: whereas Demades paraded with his wealth PHOCIO^. 397 oven 5n instances that were contrary to law; for there was a law at Athens, that no foreigner should appear in the choruses upon the stage under the penalty of a thousand drachmas^ to be paid by the person who gave the entertainment. Yet De- mades, in his exhibition, produced none but foreigners; and he paid the fine of a thousand drachmas for each, though their number was a hundred. And when his son Demea was mar¬ ried, he said,—“ When I married your mother, the next neigh¬ bour hardly knew it; but kings and princes contribute to the expense of your nuptials.^’ The Athenians were continually importuning Phocion to persuade Antipater to withdraw the garrison; but whether it w^as that he despaired of success, or rather because he perceiv¬ ed that the people were more sober and submissive to govern* ment, under fear of that rod, he always declined the commis¬ sion. The only thing that he asked and obtained of Antipa¬ ter was, that the money which the Athenians were to pay for the charges of the war, should not be insisted on immediately, but a longer term granted. The Athenians, finding that Pho¬ cion would not meddle with the affair of the garrison, applied to Demades, who readily undertook it. In consequence of this, he and his son took a journey to Macedonia. It should seem his evil genius led him thither, for he arrived just at the time when Antipater was in his last illness; and when Cassan- der, now absolute master of every thing, had intercepted a let¬ ter, written by Demades to Antigonus in Asia, inviting him to come over and seize Greece and Macedonia, which,’’ he said, hung only upon an old rotten stalk;” so he contemptu¬ ously called Antipater. Cassander no sooner saw him, than he ordered him to be arrested; and first he killed his son be¬ fore his eyes, and so near, that the blood spouted upon him, and filled his bosom; then, after having reproached him with his ingratitude and perfidiousness, he slew him likewise. Antipater, a little before his death, had appointed Polyper- chon general, and given Cassander the command of a thousand men. But Cassander, far from being satisfied with such an appointment, hastened to seize the supreme power, and imme¬ diately sent Nicanor to take the command oi the garrison from Menyllus, and to secure Munychia before the news of his fa¬ ther’s death got abroad. This scheme was carried into execu lion; and a few days after, the Athenians being informed oi the death of Antipater, accused Phocion of being privy to thai event, and concealing it out of friendship to iSTicanor. Pho¬ cion, however, gave himself no pain about it, on toe contrary, he conversed familiarly with Nicanor; and, by his assiduities, not only rendered him kind and obliging to the AtlX'niuns, VoL. III. 34 398 IMIOCION. but insoired him with an am jition to distinguish him if exhibiting games and shows to the people Meantime Polyperchon, to whom the care of the king^i person was committed,^ in order to countermine Cassander, wrote letters to the Athenians, importing,—That the king restored them their ancient form of government;’^ according to which, all the people had a right to public employments. This was a snare he laid for Phocion; for, being desirous of making himself master of Athens, (as soon appeared from iiis actions), he was sensible that he could not effect any thing while Phocion was in the way. He saw, too, that his expuT sion would be no difficult task, when all who had been ex¬ cluded from a share in the administration were restored, and the orators and public informers were once more masters of the tribunals. As these letters raised great commotions among the people, Nicanor was desired to speakt to them on that subject in the Piraeus; and, for that purpose, entered their assembly, trusting his person with Phocion. Dercyllus, who commanded for the king in the adjacent country, laid a scheToe to seize him; but Nicanor getting timely information of his design, guarded against it, and soon showed that he would wreak his vengeance on the city. Phocion then was blamed for letting him go when he had him in his hands; but he answered,—He could confide in Nicanor’s promises, and saw no reason to suspect him of any ill design. However,” said he, be the issue what it may, I had rather be found suffering than doing what is unjust.” This answer of his, if we examine it with respect to himself only, will appear to be entirely the result of fortitude and ho¬ nour; but when we consider that he hazarded the safety of his country, and, what is more, that he was general and first ma¬ gistrate, 1 know not whether he did not violate a stronger and more respectable obligation. It is in vain to allege that Pho¬ cion was afraid of involving Athens in a war, and for that rea¬ son would not seize the person of Nicanor; and that he only urged the obligations of justice and good faith, that Nicanor, by a grateful sense of such behaviour, might be prevailed upon to be quiet, and think of no injurious attempt against the Athe¬ nians; for the truth is, he had such confidence in Nicanor, that when he had accounts brought him, from several hands, of his designs upon the Piraeus, of his ordering a body of mercenaries to Salamis, and of his bribing some of the inhabitants of the. I • The son of Alexander, who was yet very young*. J. Nicanor knew that Polyperchon’s proposal to restore the democracy was merely a snare, and he wanted to make the Athenians sensible of it. PHOCION. 399 Piraeus, he would give no credit to any of these things. Nay, when Philomedes, of the borough of Lampra, got an edict made, that all the Athenians should take up arms, and obey the orders cf Phocion, he took no care to act in pursuance of it, till Nicanor had brought his troops out of Munychia, and carried his trenches round the Piraeus. Then Phocion would have led the Athenians against him; but by this time they were become mutinous, and looked upon him with contempt. At that juncture arrived Alexander the son of Polyperchon, with an army, under pretence of assisting the city against Ni¬ canor; but, in reality, to avail himself of its fatal divisions, and to seize it, if possible, for himself; for the exiles who entered the town with him, the foreigners, and such citizens as had been stigmatized as infamous, with other mean people, resort¬ ed to him, and all together made up a strange disorderly as¬ sembly; by whose suffrages the command was taken from Pho¬ cion, and other generals appointed. Had not Alexander been seen alone near the walls in conference with Nicanor, and by repeated interviews given the Athenians cause of suspicion, the city could not have escaped the danger it was in. Imme¬ diately the orator Agnonides singled out Phocion, and accused him of treason; which so much alarmed Callimedon and Peri¬ cles,^ that they fled out of the city. Phocion, with such of his friends as did not forsake him, repaired to Polyperchon. Solon of Plataea, and Dinarchusof Corinth, who passed for the friends and confidants of Polyperchon, out of regard to Pho¬ cion, desired to be of the party. But Dinarchus falling ill by the way, they were obliged to stop many d lys at Elatea. In the meantime, Archestratus proposed a decree and Agnonides got it passed, that deputies should be sent to Polyperchon. with an accusation against Phocion. The two parties came up to Polyperchon at the same time, as he war upon his march with the king,t near Pharuges, a town of Phocis, situated at the foot of Mount Acroriam, now called (xalate There Polyperchon placed the king under a golden canopy, and his friends on each side of him; and before he proceeded to any other business, gave orders that Dinarchus should be put to the torture, and afterwards despatched, d'his done, he gave the Athenians audience; but as they filled the place with noise and tumult, interrupting each other with mu- lual aceusatiops to the council, Agnonides pressed forwards, * Pericles here looks like an erroneous reading. Afterwards we find not Pericles, but Chariuts, mentioned along with Callimedon; Charicles was rhocion^'s son-in-law. *(• This was Aridseus, the natural son of Fhiiip. After some of Alexander's generals had raised him to the throne for their own purposes^ he b ok the •lame of Philip, and reigned six years and a few months. 400 PHOCION. and said,—Put us all in one cage, and send us back to Athens, to give account of our conduct there/^ The king laughed at the proposal; hut the Macedonians who attended on that occasion, and the strangers who were drawn thither by curiosity, were desirous of hearing the cause; and, there¬ fore, made signs to the deputies to argue the matter there. However, it was far from being conducted with impartiality. Polyperchon often interrupted Phocion, who, at last, was so provoked, that he struck his staff upon the ground, and would speak no more. Hegemon said, Polyperchon himself could bear witness to his affectionate regard for the people; and that general answered,—“ Do you come here to slander me before the king?” Upon this the king started up, and was going to run Hegemon through with his spear; but Polyperchon pre¬ vented him, and the council broke up immediately. The guards then surrounded Phocion and his party, except a few, who, being at some distance, muffled themselves up and fled. Clitus carried the prisoners to Athens, under colour of having them tried there, but, in realit}^, only to have them put to death, as persons already condemned. The manner of conducting the thing made it a more melancholy scene. The prisoners were carried in carts through the Ceramicus to the theatre, where Clitus shut them up till the arcfions had assem¬ bled the people. From this assembly, neither slaves nor for¬ eigners, nor persons stigmatized as infamous, were excluded; the tribunal and the theatre were open to all. Then the king’s letter was read; the purport of which was, ‘‘ That he had found the prisoners guilty of treason; but that he left it to the Athe¬ nians, as freemen, who were to be governed by their own laws, to pass sentence upon them.” At the same time Clitus presented them to the people. The best of the citizens, when they saw Phocion, appeared greatly dejected, and covering their faces with their mantles began to weep. One, however, had the courage to say,—Since the king leaves the determination of so important a matter to the people, it would be proper to command all slaves and stran¬ gers to depart.” But the populace, instead of agreeing to that motion, cried out ,—“ It would be much more proper to stone all the favourers of oligarchy, all the enemies of the people.” After which no one attempted to offer any thing in behalf of Phocion. It was with much difficulty that he obtained per¬ mission to speak. At last, silence being made, he said ,—‘‘ Do you design to take away my life justly or unjustly?” Some of them answering,—Justly;” he said ,—‘‘ How can you know whether it be justly if you do not hear me first?” As he did not find them inclinable in the least to hear him, he advanced %onne paces forward, and said,—Citizens of Athens, I ac PHOCION. 4U1 knowledge I have done you injustice; and for Tiy vS ills in the administration adjudge myself guilty of death;^ but why will you put these men to death, who have never injured you?’^ The populace made answer,—“ Because they are friends to you/’ Upon which he drew back, and resigned himself quiet¬ ly to his ftite. Agnonides then read the decree he had prepared; according to which, the people were to declare by their suffrages whe¬ ther the prisoners appeared to be guilty or not; and if they ap^ peared so, they were to suffer death. When the decree was read, some called for an additional clause for putting Phocion to the torture before execution, and insisted that the rack and its managers should be sent for immediately. But Agnonides, observing that Clitus was displeased at that proposal, and look¬ ing upon it himself as a barbarous and detestable thing, said,— When we take that villain Callimedon, let us put him to the torture; but, indeed, my fellow-citizens, I can not consent that Phocion should have such hard measure.” Upon this, one of the better disposed Athenians cried out,—Thou art certain¬ ly right; for if we torture Phocion, what must we do to thee?” There was, however, hardly one negative when the sentence of death was proposed: all the people gave their voices stand ing; and some of them even crowned themselves with flowers, as if it had been a matter of festivity. With Phocion, there were Nicocles, Thudippus, Hegemon, and Pythocles. As for Demetrius tiie Phalerean, Callimedon, Charicles, and some others, who were absent, the same sentence was passed upon them. After the assembly was dismissed, the convicts were sent to prison. The embraces of their friends and relations melted them into tears; and they all went on bewailing their fate ex¬ cept Phocion. His countenance was the same as when the people sent him out to command their armies; and the behold¬ ers could not but admire his invincible firmness and magna¬ nimity. Some of his enemies, indeed, reviled him as he w^ent along; and one of them even spit in his face; upon which he turned to the magistrates, and said,—Will nobody correct this fellow’s rudeness?” Thudippus, when he saw the execu¬ tioner pounding the hemlock, began to lament what hard for¬ tune it was for him to suffer unjustly on Phocion’s account. “ What then!” said the venerable sage, dost thou not think it honour to die with Phocion?” One of his friends asking ;iim whether he had any commands to his son?—Yes,” said * It was the custom for the person accused to lay some penalty mi himself, Phocion chooses the highest, thinking it miglit be a means to reconcile thf^ Athenians to his friends; but it had not that effect. VoL. III.-3E 31* PHOCION. 4oa he, by all means tell him from me, to forget the ill treat ment 1 have had from the Athenians.’’ And when Nicocles, the most faithful of his friends, begged that he would let him drink the poison before him:—This,” said he, Nicocles, is a hard request; and the thing must give me great uneasiness: but since I have obliged you in every instance through life, I will do the same in this.” When they came all to drink, the quantity proved not suffi cient; and the executioner refused to prepare more, except he had twelve drachmas paid him, which was the price of a full draught. As this occasioned a troublesome delay, Phocion called one of his friends, and said,—Since one can not die on free cost at Athens, give the man his money.” This exe¬ cution was on the nineteenth day of April^"^ when there w^as a procession of horsemen in honour of Jupiter. As the cava! cade passed by, some took off their chaplets from their heads: others shed tears as they looked at the prison doors; all who had not hearts entirely savage, or were not corrupted by rage and envy, looked upon it as a most impious thing, not to have reprieved them at least for that day, and so to have kept the city unpolluted on the festival. However, the enemies of Phocion, as if something had been wanting to their triumph, got an order that his body should not be suffered to remain within the bounds of Attica; nor that any Athenian should furnish fire for the funeral pile. There¬ fore, no friend durst touch it: But one Conopion, who lived by such services, for a sum of money, carried the corpse out of the territories of Eleusis, and got fire for the burning of it in those of Megara. A woman of Megara, who happened to as¬ sist at the ceremony with her maid servants, raised a cenotaph upon the spot, and performed the customary libations. The bones she gathered up carefully into her lap, carried them by night into her own house, and interred them under the hearth: at the same time, she thus addressed the domestic gods:—“ Ye guardians of this place, to you I commit the remains of this good man. Do you restore them to the sepulchre of his an¬ cestors, when the Athenians shall once more listen to the dic¬ tates of wisdom.” The time was not long before the situation of their affairs taught them how vigilant a magistrate, and how excellent a guardian of the virtues of justice and sobriety, they had lost. The people erected his statue in brass, and buried his remains at the public expense. Agnonides, his principal accuser, they put to death, in consequence of a decree for that purpose. Epicurus and Demophilus, the other two, fled from Athens^ • Munychion. PHOCION. 403 Dut afterwards fell iato the hands of Phocion’s son, who pun - ished them as they deserved. This son of his was, in other respects, a worthless man. He was in love with a girl, who was in a state of servitude, and belonged to a trader in such matters; and happening one dav to hear Theodorus the atheist maintain this argument in ttie Lyceum,—That if it is no shame to ransom a friend, it is no shame to redeem a mistress;’^ the discourse was so flattering to his ])assion, that he went im¬ mediately and released his female friend.^ The proceedings against Phocion put the Greeks in mind of those against Socrates. The treatment of both was equally unjust, and the calamities thence entailed upon Athens were perfectly similar, t * It appears from the ancient comedy, that it was no uncommon thing for the young men of Athens to take their mistresses out of such shops, and after they had released them from servitude, to marry them. f Socrates was put to death eighty-two years before. THK LIFE OF CATO THE YOUNGER. The family of Cato had its first lustre and distinction from his great grandfather, Cato the Censor,^ a man whose virtue, as we have observed in his life, ranked him with persons of the greatest reputation and authority in Rome. The Utican Cato, of whom we are now speaking, was left an orphan, to¬ gether with his brother Csepio and his sister Porcia. He had also another sister called Servilia, but she was only sister by the mother’s side.t The orphans were brought up in the house of Livius Drusus, their mother’s brother, who at that time had great influence in the administration: to which he was entitled by his eloquence, his wisdom, and dignity of mind; excellencies that put him upon an equality with the best of the Romans. Cato, we are told, from his infancy discovered in his voice, his look, and his very diversions, a firmness and solidity, which neither passion nor any thing else could move. He pursued every object he had in view with a vigour far above his years, ana a resolution that nothing could resist. Those who were inclined to flatter were sure to meet with a severe repulse; and to those who attempted to intimidate him, he was still more untractable. Scarce any thing could make him laugh, and it was but rarely that his countenance was softened to a smile. He was not quickly or easily moved to anger, but it was difficult to appease his resentment when once excited. His apprehension was slow, and his learning came with diffi¬ culty; but what he had once learned he long retained. It is, indeed, a common case for persons of quick parts to have weak memories; but what is gained with labour and application is Iways retained the longest: for every hard-gained acquisition * Cato the Censor, at a very late period in life, married Salonia, d^Mg-lUer of his own steward. There was a family, however, from that second ihctcli, which flourished when that which came from the first was extinct. •j- Servilia was not his only sister by the mother’s side; there were of them: one, the mother of Brutus who killed Caesar; anotlier maiTitorshijp all the dignity of the consulate: for, having made it his busi¬ ness to find out all the debts of long standing due to the public, and what the public was indebted to private persons, he settled these affairs in such a manner, that the commonwealth could no longer either do or suffer any injury in that respect; strict ly demanding and insisting on the payment of wnateve-r was 416 CATO THE YOUNGER owing' to the state, and, at the same time, leadily and -satisfying all who had claims upon it. This naturally gained nim reverence among the people, when they saw many oblig¬ ed to pay, who hoped never to have been called to account; and many receiving debts which they had given up as des¬ perate. His predecessors had often, through interest or per¬ suasion, accepted false bills, and pretended orders of senate; but nothing of that kind escaped Cato. There was one order in particular, which he suspected to be forged; and though it had many witnesses to support k, he would not allow it till the consuls came and declared it upoii oath. There was a number of assassins employed in the last pro¬ scription, to whom Sylla had given twelve thousand drachmas for each head they brought him. These were looked upon by all the world as the most execiabie villains; yet no man had ventured to take vengeance on them. Cato, however summoned all who had received the public money for such unjust services, and made them refund; inveighing, at the same time, with equal reason and severity, against their impious and abominable deeds. Those wretches, thus disgraced, and, as it were, prejudged, were afterwards indicted for murder be¬ fore the judges, who punished them as they deserved. AH ranks of people rejoiced at these executions: they thought they §aw the tyranny rooted out with these men, and Sylla himself capitally punished in the death of his ministers. The people were also delighted with his indefatigable dih irence; for he always came to the treasury before his colleagues, ana was the last that left it. There was no assembly of the people, or meeting of the senate, which he did not attend, in order to keep a watchful eye upon all partial remissions of fines and duties, and all unreasonable grants. Thus having cleared the exchequer of informers, and all such vermin, and filled it with treasure, he showed that it is possible for a go¬ vernment to he rich without oppressing the subject. At first this conduct of his was very obnoxious to Ids colleagues, but in time it came to be agreeable: because, by refusing to give away any of the public money, or to make any partial deter¬ mination, he stood the rage of disappointed avarice for them and, to the importunity of soilcitarlon, they would answer, that they could do nothing without the consent of Cato. The last day of his office he vvas conducted home by almost the whole body of citizens. But, by the way, he was inform¬ ed, that some of the principal men in Rome, who had great influence upon Marcellus, were besieging him in the treasury, and pressing him to make out an order for sums which the}/ pretended to be due to them. Marcellus from his childhood, was a friend of Cato’s, and a good quiestor, while headed wi"b CATO THE YOUNGER. 41« ifiim; but when headed alone, he w^s too much infiiiLr.vMMl by personal regards for petitioners, and by a natural inclination to oblige. Cato, therefore, immediately turned back, and find¬ ing Marcellus already prevailed upon to make out tlie order, he called for the registers and erased it; Marcellus all the while standing by in silence. Not content with this, he took him out of the treasury, and led him to his own house. Mar¬ cellus, however, did not complain, either then or afterwards, but continued the same friendship and intimacy with him to the last. After the time of his qusestorship was expired, Cato kept a watchful eye upon the treasury. He had his servants there daily minuting down the proceedings; and he spent much time himself in perusing the public accounts from the time of Sylla to his own; a copy of which he had purchased for five talents. Whenever the senate was summoned to meet, he was the first to give his attendance, and the last to withdraw; and of¬ tentimes, while the rest were slovvly assembling, he would sit down and read, holding his gown before his book; nor would he ever be out of town when a house was called. Pompey finding that, in all his unwarrantable attempts, he must find a severe and inexorable opponent in Cato, when he had a point of that kind to carry, threw in his way either the cause of some friend to plead, or arbitration, or other business to at¬ tend to. But Cato soon perceived the snare, and rejected all the applications of his friends; declaring that, when the senate vas to sit, he would never undertake any other business. For his attention to the concerns of government was not, like that of some others, guided by the view's of honour or profit, nor left to chance or humour; but he thought a good cilizen ought to be as solicitous about the public as a bee is about her hive. For this reason, he desired his friends, and others with whom he had connections in the provinces, to give him an account of the edicts, the important decisions, and all the principal busi¬ ness transacted there. He made a point of it to oppose Clodius the seditious de¬ magogue, who was always proposing some dangerous law, or some change in the constitution, or accusing the priests and restals to the people. Fabia Terentla, sister to Cicero’s wife, and one of the vestals, was impeached among the rest, and in Janger of being condemned. But Cato defended the cause of these injured people so well, that Clodius was forced to with, draw in great confusion, and leave the city. When Cicero came to thank him for his service, he said,—“ You musttnank your country, whose utility is the spring tliat guides all my actiens.” VoL. HI.-3G 418 CATO THE YOUNG El?. His reputation came to be so great, that a (,ertaiii orator, in a cause where only one witness was produced, said to tlie judges,—One man's evidence is not sufficient to go by, not even if it was Cato’s.’^ It grew, indeed into a kind of proverb, when people were speaking of strange and incredible tilings, to say,—‘‘ I would not believe such a thing, though it were affirmed by Cato.’^ A man profuse in his expenses, and in all respects ot a worthless character, taking upon him one day to speak in the senate in praise of temperance and sobriety, Amnaeus rose up and said,—‘‘Who can endure to hear a man who eats and drinks like Crassus, and builds like Lucullus, pretend to talk here like Cato?’^ Hence, others, who were dissolute and abandoned in their lives, but preserved a gravity and austerity in their discourse, came, by way of ridicule, to be called Catos, His friends advised him to offer himself for the tribuneship,, but he thought it was not yet time. He said,—“ He looked upon an office of such power and authority, as a violent medi¬ cine, which ought not to be used except in cases of great neces¬ sity.^’ As, at that time, he had no public business to engage him, he took his books and philosophers with him, and set out for Lucania, where he had lands and an agreeable country re¬ treat. By the way he met with a number of horses, car riages, and servants, which he found to belong to Metellus Nepos, who was going to Rome to apply for the tribuneship. This put him to a stand: he remained some time in deep thought, and then gave his people order's to turn back. To his friends, who weresurpised at this conduct,—“ Know ye not,” said he, “ that Metellus is formidable even in his stuj)idity? But re¬ member, that he now follows the counsels of Pompey; that the state lies prostrate before him; and that he will fall upon and crush it with the force of a thundeiffiolt. Is this then a time for the pursuit of rural amusements? Let us rescue our liber¬ ties, or die in their defence!” Upon the remonstrance of his friends, however, he proceeded to his farm; and, after a short stay there, returned to the city* He arrived in the evening, and early next morning went to the forum^ as a candidate for the tribuneship, in opposition to Metellus; for to oppose is the nature of that office, and its power is chiefly negative; inso¬ much, that the dissent of a single voice is sufficient to dis^ annul a measure in which the whole assembly beside has con- (cn rred. Cato was at first attended only by a small number of hia friends; but when his intentions were made known, he was immediately surrounded by men of honour and virtue, the rest v>i his acquaintance, who gave him the strongest encourage- ricrit, and solicited him to ap])ly for the tribuneship, not as it CATO THE YOUNOER. might imply, a ^a^'Our conferred on himself, but as It would be an honour and an advantage to his fellow-citizens: observ¬ ing, at the same time, that though it had been frequently in his power to obtain this oflice without the trouble of opposition, yet he now stepped forth, regardless, not only of that trouble, but even of personal danger, when the liberties of his country were at stake. Such was the zeal and eagerness of the people that pressed around him, that it was with the utmost difficulty he made his way to i\\^ forum. Being appointed tribune, with Metellus amongst the rest, he observed that great corruption had crept into the consular elections. On this subject he gave a severe charge to the peo¬ ple, which he concluded by affirming on oath, that he vvould prosecute every one that should offend in that wav. He took care, however, that Silanus,^ who had married his sister Ser- vilia, should be excepted. But against Muroena, who, by means of bribery, had carried the consulship at the same time with Silanus, he laid an information. By the laws of Rome, the person accused has power to set a guard upon him who lays the information, that he may have no opportunity of sup¬ porting a false accusation by private machinations before his trial. When the person that was appointed Muraena’s officer on this occasion, observed the liberal and candid conduct of Cato, that he sought only to support his information by fair and open evidence, he was so struck with the excellence and dignity of his character, that he would frequently wait upon him in the forum^or at his house, and, after inquiring whether he should proceed that day in the business of the information, if Cato answered in the negative, he made no scruple of leav¬ ing him. When the trial came on, Cicero, who was then con¬ sul, and Muraena’s advocate, by way of playing upon Cato, threw out many pleasant things against the Stoics, and their paradoxical philosophy. This occasioned no small mirth amongst the judges; upon which Cato only observed with a smile to those who stood next him, that Rome had indeed a most laughable consul.t Muraena acted a very prudent part vvith regard to Cato; for, though acquitted of the charge he * From this passage it sliould seem that Plutarch supposed Cato to be ca¬ pable of sacrificing to family connections. But the fault lies rather in the historian than in the tribune. For is it to be supposed, that the rigid virtue of Cato should descend to the most obnoxious circumstances of predilection? It is not ])os«ible to have a stronger instance of his integrity, than his refus¬ ing the alliance of Pompey the Great; though that refusal was impolitic, and attended with bad consequences to the state. ■I" I'he French and English translators have it, a pleasant consul. But that does not convey the sarcasm tliat Cato meant. Fiidiculum est, quod risum 420 CATO THE YOUNGER !iad brought against him, he nevertheless consulted him on all ^iccaslons of iniportanpe during his consulship; respected him for his sense and virtiu-, and made use of his counsels in the ad¬ ministration of government: for Cato, on the bench, was the most rigid dispenser of justice; though, in private society, he was siTable and humane. Before he was appointed tribune In the consulship of Cicero, he supported the supreme magistrate in a very seasonable manner, by many excellent measures during the turbulent limes of Catiline. It is well known, that this man meditated riotliing less than a total subversion of the Roman state; and that, by the spirited counsels and conduct of Cicero, he was obliged to fiy from Rome without effecting his purpose. But Leutidus, Ceihegus, and the rest of the conspirators, after re¬ proaching Catiline for his timidity, and the feebleness of his enterprises, resolved to distinguish themselves at least more effectually. Their scheme was nothing less than to burn the city, and destroy the empire, by tne revolt of the colonies and foreign wars. Upon the discovery of this conspiracy, Cicero, as we have observed In his life, called a council; and the first that spoke was Silanus. He. gave it as his opinion, that the conspirators should he punished with the utmost rigour. This opinion was adopted by the lest. till it came to Caesar. Tliis eloquent man, eonsisrenl with whose ambitious principles it was rather to encourage than to suppress any threatening inno¬ vations, urged, in his usual persuasive manner, the propriety of allowing the accused the privilege of trial; and that the con¬ spirators should only be taken into custody. The senate, who were under apprehensions from the people, thought it pru¬ dent to come into this measure; and even Silanus reti’acted, and declared he thouglit of nothing more than imprisonment, that being the most rigorous punishment a citizen of Rome could suffer. This change of sentiments in those who spoke first, was fol¬ lowed by the rest, who all gave into milder measures; hui Cato, who was of a contrary opinion, defended that opinion with the greatest vehemence, eloquence, and energy. He re¬ proached Silanus for his pusillanimity in changing his resolu lion. He attacked Caesar, and charged him with a secret de° sign of subverting the government, under the plausible apy)ear- ance of mitigating speeches and a humane conduct, of intimi¬ dating tlie senate, b}^ the same means, even in a case where he had to fear for himself, and wherein he might think himself happy, if he could be exempted from every imputation and suspicion of guilt. He who had openly and daringly attempt¬ ed to rescue from justice the enemies of the state, and shown, that ^o far from having any compassion for his countrv. when CATO THE YOUNGER. 421 on the brink of destruction, he could even pity and plead for the wretches, the unnatural wretches, that meditated its ruin, and j!;rieve that their punishment should prevent tlieir design. This, it is said, is the only oration of Cato that is extant. Cice¬ ro had selected a number of the swiftest writers; wiiom he had taught the art of abbreviating words by characters, and had them in different parts of the senate-house. Before his con §ulate they had no short-hand writers. Cato carried h.is point, and it was decreed, agreeably to his opinion, that the conspi¬ rators should suffer capital punishment. As it is our intention to exhibit an accurate picture of the mind and manners of Cato, the least circumstance that may contribute to mark them should not escape our notice. While he was warmly contesting his point with (Caesar, and tlie eyes of the whole senate were upon the disputants, it is said, that a billet was brought in, and delivered to Caesar. Cato immedi¬ ately suspected, and charged him with some traitorous design, and it was moved in the senate, that the billet should be read publicly. Caesar delivered it to Cato, who stood near him; and the latter had no sooner cast his eye upon it, than he perceiv ed it to be the hand of his own sister, Servilia, who was pas¬ sionately in love with Caesar, by whom she had been debauch ed. He, therefore, threw it back to Caesar, saying ,—“ Take it, you sot,” and went on with his discourse. Cato was always unfortunate amongst the women. This Servilia was infamous for her commerce with Caesar, and his other sister, Servilia, was in still worse repute; for though married to Lucullus, one of the first men in Rome, by whom she also had a son, she was divorced for her insufi’erable irregularities. But what was most distressful to Cato, was, that the conduct of his own wife, Attilia, was by no means unexceptionable; and that, after hav¬ ing brought him two children, he was obliged to part with her. Upon his divorce from Attilia, he married JVlarcia, the daughter of Philip; a woman of good character; but this part of Cato’s life, like the plots in the drama, is involved and in¬ tricate. Thraseas, upon the authority of Munatius, Cato’s par¬ ticular friend, who lived under the same roof with him, gives m this account of the matter:—Amongst the friends and fol¬ lowers of Cato, some made a m.ore open profession of their sentiments than others. Amongst these was Quintus Horten- sius, a man of great dignity and politeness. Not contented merely with the friendship of Cato, he was desirous of a fami¬ ly alliance with him; and for this purpose, he scrupled not to reqiuist that his daughter, Portia, who was already married to Bibulus, by whom she had two childi’en, might he lent to him as a fruitful soil foi the purpose of propagation. The thing it¬ self, he owned, was uncommon, but by no means unnatural or Voi. Ill 36 422 CATO THE YOUNGER’ impropijE^ for wiiy should a woman in the flower of her age^ either continue useless, till she is past child-bearing, or over¬ burden her husband with too large a family? The mutual use of women, he added, in virtuous families, would not only in¬ crease a virtuous offspring, but strengthen and extend the con¬ nections of society. Moreover, if Bibuius should be unwill¬ ing wholly to give up his wife, she should be restored after she had done him the honour of an alliance to Cato by her pregnancy. Cato answered, that he had the greatest regard for the friendship of Hortensius, but could not think of his ap¬ plication for another man’s wife. Hortensius, however, would not give up here; but when he could not obtain Cato’s daugh¬ ter, he applied for his wife, saying, that she was yet a young woman, and Cato’s family already large enough. He could not possibly make this request upon a supposition that Cato had no regard for his wife; for she was at that very time pregnant. Notwithstanding, the latter, when he observed the violent in clination Hortensius had to be allied to him, did not absolute ly refuse him; hut said it was necessary to consult Marcia’s fa¬ ther, Philip, on the occasion. Philip, therefore, was applied to, and his daughter was espoused to Hortensius in the pre sence, and with the consent of Cato. These circumstances are not related in the proper order of time; but speaking of Cato’s connection with the women, 1 was led to mention them. When the conspirators w^ere executed, and Caesar, who, on account of his calumnies in the senate, was obliged to throw himself on the people, had infused a spirit of insurrection into the worst and lowest of the citizens, Cato being apprehensive of the consequences, engaged the senate to appease the multi¬ tude by a free gift of corn. This cost twelve hundred and fifty talents a year; but it had the desired effect.^ Metellus, upon entering on his office as tribune, held seve¬ ral seditious meetings, and published an edict, that Pompey should bring his troops into Italy, under the pretext of saving the city from the attempts of Catiline. Such was the pretence; but his real design was to give up the state into the hands of Pompey. Upon the meeting of the senate, Cato, instead of treating Metellus with his usual asperity, expostulated with great mild¬ ness, and had even recourse to entreaty, intimating, at the same time, that his family had ever stood in the interest of the * This is almost one-third more than the sum said to have been expend¬ ed in the same distribution in the Life of Csesar; and even there it is incre di- bly larg'e. But whatever might be the expense, the policy was bad; for nothing 30 etfectually w^eakens the hands of government as this method of bribing the populace, and treating them as injudicious nurses do froward children. CATO THE YOUNGER. 42 ? nobility, Metellus, who imputevi Cato’s mildness to his fears, was the more insolent on that accour t, and most audaciously asserted, that he would carry his purpose into execution whe¬ ther the senate would or not. The voice, the air, the attitude of Cato, were changed in a moment; and with all the force ol eloquence, he declared,—“ That while he was living, Pompey should never enter armed into the city.” The senate neither approved of the conduct of Cato nor of Metellus. The latter’ they considered as a desperate and profligate madman, who had no other aim than that of general destruction and confusion The virtue of Cato they looked upon as a kind of enthusiasm, which would ever lead him to arm in the cause of justice and the laws. When the people came to vote for the edict, a number of aliens, gladiators and slaves, armed by Metellus, appeared in the forum. He was also followed by several of the commons, who wanted to introduce Pompey, in hopes of a revolution; and his hands were strengthened by the privtorial power of Caesar. Cato, on the other hand, had the principal citizens on his side; but they were rather sharers in the injury than aux¬ iliaries in the removal of it. The danger to which he was ex¬ posed, was now so great, that his family was under the utmost concern. The greatest part of his friends and relations came to his house in the evening, and passed the night without ei¬ ther eating or sleeping. His wife and sisters bewailed their misfortunes with tears, while he himself passed the evening, with the utmost confidence and tranquillity, encouraging the rest to imitate his example. He supped and went to rest a? usual, and slept soundly till he was waked by his colleague Minutius Thermus. He went to the forum^ accompanied by few, but met by many, who advised him to take care of his person. When he saw the temple of Castor surrounded by armed men, the steps occupied by gladiators, and Metellus himself seated on an eminence with Csesar, turning to his friends,—Which,” said he, is most contemptible, the savage disposition, or the cowardice of him who brings such an army against a man who is naked and unarmed.” Upon this, he proceeded to the place with Thermus. Those that occupied the steps fell back to make way for him, hut would sufl'er no one else to pass. Munatiusonly, with some difficulty he drew along with him; and as soon as he entered, he took his seat between Caesar and Metellus, that be might by that means prevent their discourse. This embarrassed them not a little; and what added to their perplexity, was the countenance and approbation that Cato met with from all the honest men that were present, who, while they a/^1 mired his firm and steadv spirit, so stronglv 424 CATO THE YOUNGER marked In his aspect, encouragea him to persevere in the cause of liberty, and mutually agreed to support him. Metellus, enraged at this, proposed to road the edict. Cato put in his negative; and that having no effect, he wrested it out of his hand. Metellus then attempted to speak it from memory; but Thermus prevented him by putting his hand upon his mouth. When he found this ineffectual, and per¬ ceived that the people were gone over to the opposite party, he ordered his armed men to make a riot, and throw the whole into confusion. Upon this the people dispersed, and Cato was left alone, exposed to a storm of sticks and stones. But Mu rsena, though the former had so lately an information against him, would not desert him. He defended him with his gown from the danger to which he was exposed, entreated the mob to desist from their violence, and at length carried him off in his arms into the temple of Castor. When Metellus found the benches deserted, and the adversary put to the rout, he imagined he had gained his point, and again very modestly proceeded to confirm the edict. The adversary, however, quickly rallied, and advanced with shouts of the greatest courage and confidence. Metellus’s party, supposing that by some means they had got arms, was thrown into confusion, and immediately took to flight. Upon the dispersion of these, Cato came forward, and by his encouragement and applause, established a considerable party against Metellus. The senate, too, voted that Cato should, at all events, be supported; and that an edict, so pregnant with every thing that was pernicious to order and good government, and had even a tendency to civil war, should be opposed with the utmost vigour. Metellus still maintained his resolution; but finding his friends intimidated by the unconquercd spirit of Cato, he came suddenly into the open court, assembled the people, said every thing that he thought might render Cato odious to them; and declared, that he would have nothing to do with the arbitrary principles of that man, or his conspiracy against Pompey, whose disgrace Rome might one day have severe occasion to repent. .Upon this he immediately set off for Asia, to carry an ac¬ count of these matters to Pompey. And Cato, by ridding the commonwealth of this troublesome tribune, and crushing, as it were, in him, the growing power of Pompey, obtained the highest reputation. But what made him still more popular, was his prevailing on the senate to desist from their purpose of voting Metellus infamous, and divesting him of the magis¬ tracy. His humanity and moderation in not insulting a van¬ quished enemy, ^vere admired by the people in general; wliilsl C.VTO THE YOUNGER 425 men of political sagacity could see that he thought it pi*uden not to provoke Pompey too much. Soon afterward, Lucullus returned from the war, which being concluded by Pompey, gave that general, in some mea¬ sure, the laurels; and being obnoxious to the people, through the impeachment of Caius Memmius, who opposed him more from a view of making his court to Pom.pey than any personal hatred, he was in danger of losing his triumphs. Cato, how ever, partly because IjUCuIIus was allied to him by marrying his daughter Servilia, and partly because he thought the pro¬ ceedings unfair, opposed Memmius, and by that means ex¬ posed himself to great obloquy. But though divested of his tribunitial office, as of a tyrannical authority, he had full credit enough to banish Memmius from the courts, and from the lists. Lucullus, therefore, having obtained his triumph, at¬ tached himself to Cato, as to the strongest bulwark against the power of Pompey. When this great man returned from the war, confident of his interest at Rome, from the magnificent reception he every where met with, he scrupled not to send a requisition to the senate, that they would defer the election of consuls till his arrival, that he might support Piso. Whilst they were in doubt about the matter, Cato, not because he was under any concern about deferring the election, but that he inight intercept the hopes and attempts of Pompey, remon¬ strated against the measure, and carried it in the negative. Pompey was not a little disturbed at this; and concluding, that if Cato were h^s enemy he would be the greatest obstacle to his designs, he sent for his friend Munatius, and commissioned him to demand two of Cato’s nieces in marriage; the elder for himself, and the younger for his son. Some say that they were not Cato’s nieces, but his daughters. Be that as it may, when Munatius opened his commission to Cato, in the presence of his wife and sisters, the women were not a little delighted with the splendour of the alliance. But Cato, without a moment’s hesitation, answered,—“ Go, Munatius; go, and tell Pompey% that Cato is not to be caught in a female snare. Tell him, at the same time, that I am sensible of the honour he docs me; and whilst he continues to act as he ought to do, I shall have that friendship for him which is superior to affinity; but I will never give hostages against my country to the glory of Poin- pey.” The women, as it is natural to suppose, were chagrin ¬ ed: and even the friends of Cato blamed the severity of his answer. But Pompey soon after gave him an opportunity of vindicating his conduct, by open bribeiy in a consular elec¬ tion :—\ ou see now,” said Cato to the women, what would have been the consequence of my alliance with Poiiipcy. 1 should have had my share in all the aspersions that are throwu VoL III.-3H 36^ CATO THE YOUNGER. 426 apon him.’’ And they owned that he had acted right. How ever, if one ought to judge from the event, it is clear that Cato did wrong in rejecting tKe alliance of Pompey. By suffering it to devolve to Caesar, the united power of those two great men went near to overturn the Roman empire. The com¬ monwealth it effectually destroyed. But this would never have been the case, had not Cato, to whom the slighter faults of Pompey were obnoxious, suffered him, by thus strengthen¬ ing his hands, to commit greater crimes. These consequences, however, were only impending at the period under our review. When Lucullus had a dispute with Pompey concerning their institutions in Pontus, (for each wanted to confirm his own, as the former was evidently injured.) he had the support of Cato; while Pompey, his junior in the senate, in order to increase his popularity, proposed the Agrarian law in favour of the army. Cato opposed it, and it was rejected; in consequence of which Pompey attached himself to Clodius, the most violent and factious of the tribunes; and much about the same time contracted his alliance with Caesar, to w^hich Cato, in some measure, led the way. The thing was thus:—Caesar, on his return from Spain, w^as at once a candidate for the consulship, and demanded a triumph. But as the laws of Rome required that those who sue for the supreme magistracy should sue in person, and those who triumph should be without the walls, he petitioned the senate that he might be allowed to sue for the consulship by proxy. The senate, in general, agreed to oblige Caesar; and when Cato, the only one that opposed it, found this to be the case, as soon as it came to his turn, he spoke the whole day long, and thus prevented the doing ol any business. Caesar, therefore, gave up the aflair of 1.^ e triumph, entered the city, and applied at once for the consul ship and the interest of Pompey. As soon as he was appointed consul he married Julia; and as they had both entered into a league against the commonwealth, one proposed the laws for the distribution of lands amongst the poor, and the other se¬ conded the proposal. Lucullus and Cicero, in conjunction with Bibulus the other consul, opposed it. 13ut Cato in par¬ ticular, who suspected the pernicious consequences of Caesar’s connection with Pompey, was strenuous against the motion, and said it was not the distribution of lands that he feaied so much, as the rewards wJiich the cajolers of the people might expect from their favours. In this, not only the senate agreed with him, but many of the people too, who were reasonably offended by the uncon¬ stitutional conduct of Caesar. For whatever the most violent and the maddest of the tribunes proposed for the pleasure of the mob, Caesar, to pay an abject court to them, ratified by the CATO THE YOUNGER. 427 consular authority. When he found his motion, therefore, likely to be overruled, his party had recourse to violence, pelted Bibulus the consul with dirt, and broke the lods of his tlctors. At length, when darts began to be thrown, and many were wounded, the rest of the senate fled as fist as possible out of the forum, Cato was the last that left it; and as he walked slowly along, he frequently looked back, and execrated the wickedness and madness of the people. The Agrarian law, therefore, was not only passed, but they obliged the whole senate to take an oath that they would confirm and support it; and those that should refuse were sentenced to pay a heavy fine. Necessity brought most of them into the measure; for they remembered the example of Metellus,^ who was banished for refusing to comply, in a similar instance, with the people. Cato was solicited by tlie tears of the female part of his family, and the entreaties of his friends, to yield and take the oath. But what principally induced him, was the remonstrances and expostulations of Cicero; who represented to him, that there might not be so much virtue, as he imagined, in one man’s dissenting from a decree that was established by the rest of the senate; that to expose himself to certain danger, without even the possibility of producing any good eflect, was perfect insanity; and, what was still worse, to leave the commonwealth, for which he had undergone so many toils, to the mercy of innovators and usurpers, would look as if he were weary, at least, of his patriotic labours. Cato, he added, might do with¬ out Rome, but Rome could not do without Cato: his friends could not do without him; himself could not dispense with his assistance and support, while the audacious Clodions, by means of his tribunitial authority, was forming the most dangerous machinations against him. By these and the like remon¬ strances, solicited at home and in {he forum^ Cato, it is said, was with difficulty prevailed on to take the oath; and that, his friend Favonius excepted, he was the last that took it. Elated with this success, Caesar proposed another act for distributing almost the whole province of Campania amongst the poor. Cato alone opposed it; and, though Caesar dragged him from the bench, and conveyed him to prison, he omitted not, nevertheless, to speak as he passed in defence of liberty, to enlarge upon the consequences of the act, and to exhoit the citizens to put a stop to such proceedings. The seiiate, with heavy hearts, followed Cato, and all the virtuous part of the people, with silent indignation. Caesar was not inattentive to the public discontent that this jyroceeding occasioned; but ami)itiously expecting some concessions on the part of Cato, ♦ Metellus Niimidicus, 428 CATO THE YOUNGER. ne proceedeel to conduct him to prison. At length, however when he found these expectations vain, unahle any longer to support the shame to which this conduct exposed him, he in¬ structed one of the tribunes to rescue him from his officers The people, notwithstanding, brought into his interest by these public distributions, voted him the province of Illyri- cum and all Gaul, together with four legions for the space ot five years; though Cato foretold them, at the same time, that they were voting a tyrant into the citadel of Rome, 'rhey moreover created Clodius, contrary to the laws, (for he was of the patrician order,) a tribune of the people; because they knew he would, in every res])ect, accede to their wishes with regard to the banishment of Cicero. Calpurnius Piso, the fa ther of Caesar’s wife, and Aulus Gabinius,^ a bosom friend ot Pompey’s, as we are told created consuls. Yet, though they had every thing in their hands, and had gained one part of the people by favour, and the other by fear, still they were afraid of Cato. They remembered tbe pains it cost them to overbear him, and that the violent and compul¬ sive measures they had recourse to, did them but little honour Clodius, too, saw that he could not distress Cicero while sup ported by Cato; yet this was his great object; and upon his entering on his tribunitial office, he had an interview with Cato; when, after paying him the compliment of being the honestest man in Rome, he proposed to him, as a testimony of his sin¬ cerity, the government of Cyprus; an appointment which, he said, had been solicited by many. Cato answered, that far from being a favour, it was a treacherous scheme and a dis¬ grace; upon which Clodius fiercely replied ,—‘‘ If it is not your pleasure to go, it is mine that you shall go.” And say¬ ing this, he went immediately to the senate, and procured a decree for Cato’s expedition. Yet he neither supplied him with a vessel, a soldier, or a servant, two secretaries excepted, one of whom was a notorious thief, and the other a client of his own. Besides, as if the charge of Cyprus and the oppo¬ sition of Ptolemy were not a sufficient task for him, he or¬ dered him likewise to restore the Byzantine exiles. But his view in all this was to keep ‘Cato as long as possible out of Rome. Cato, thus obliged to go, exhorted Cicero, who was at the same time closely hunted by Clodius, by no means to involve by those who knew him best, they * Plutarch does not mean to represent this friendship in any favourable lig^hl. The character of Gabinius was despicable in every respect, as ap pears from Cicero’s oration for Sextius. ^JATO THE YOLTNGER- 429 nis cuuntrj in a civil war, but to yield to the necessity of the times. By means of his friend Canidius, whom he sent before bin) to Cyprus, he negotiated with Ptolemy in such a manner that he yielded without coming to blows: for Cato gave him to un¬ derstand that he should not live in a poor or abject condition, but that he should be appointed high priest to the Paphian Venus.^ While this was negotiating, Cato stopped at Rhodes, at once waiting for Ptolemy’s answer, and making prepara¬ tions for the reduction of the island. In the meantime, Ptolemy, king of Egypt, who had left Alexandria upon some quarrel with his subjects, was on his way to Rome, in order to solicit his re-establishment from CjEsa-r and Pompey, by means of the Roman arms. Being in¬ formed that Cato was at Rhodes, he sent to him, in hopes that he would wait upon him. When his messenger arrived, Cato, who then happened to have taken physic, told him, that if Ptolemy wanted to see him, he might come himself. When he came, Cato neither went forward to meet him, nor did he so much as rise from his seat, but saluted him as he would do a common person, and carelessly bade him sit down. Ptole¬ my was somewhat hurt by it at first, and surprised to meet with such a supercilious severity of manners in a man of Cato’s mean dress and appearance. However, when he entered into conversation with him concerning his affairs, when he heard his free and nervous eloquence, he was easily reconciled to him. Cato, it seems,blamed his impolitic application to Rome; represented to him the happiness he had left; and that he was about to expose himself to toils, the plagues of attendance, and, what was still worse, to the avarice of the Roman chiefs, which the whole kingdom of Egypt, converted into money, could not satisfv. He advised him to return with his fleet, and be reconciled to his people, offering him at the same time his attendance and mediation; and Ptolemy, restored by his representations, as it were, from insanity to reason, admired the discretion and sincerity of Cato, and determined to follow his advice. His friends, nevertheless, brought him back to his former measures; but he was no sooner at the door of one * This appoint nent seems to be but a poor exchang'e for a king'cloin: btit v/hen it is remerc bered that, in the Pagan theology, the priests (f the gods were not inferior in dignity to princes, and that most of them were of royal families;—when it is considered in what high reputation the Paphian Venus stood imongthe ancients, and what a lucrative as well as honourable office that of her priests must have been, occasioned by the offerings of the prodi- gious concourse of people who came annuallv to pay their de'^otions at her temple, it will be thought that Ptolemy, made no bad bargain for his little island . 430 CATO THE YOUNGER, of the magistrates of Rome, than he repented of his folly, and blamed himself for rejecting the virtuous counsel of (JatOj as for disobeying the oracle of a god, Ptolemy of Cyprus, as Cato’s good stars would have it, took himself off by poison. As he was said to have left a full treasury", Cato being determined to go himself to Byzantium, sent his nephew Brutus to Cyprus, because he had not sufiR- cient confidence in Canidius: when the exiles were reconciled to the rest of the citizens, and all things quiet in Byzantium, he proceeded to Cyprus. Here he found the royal furniture very magnificent in the articles of vessels, tables, jewels, and purple; all which were to be converted into ready money". In the management of this affair, he was very exact, attended at the sales, took the accounts himself, and brought every ar tide to the best market. Nor would he trust to the common custom of sale-factors, auctioneers, bidders, or even his own friends; but had private conferences with the purchasers, in which he urged them to bid higher, so that every thing went off at the greatest rate. By this means, he gave offence to many of his friends, and almost implacably affronted his par¬ ticular friend Munatius. Caesar, too, in his oration against him, availed himself of this circumstance, and treated him very severely. Munatius, however, tells us, that this under¬ standing was not so much occasioned by Cato’s distrust, as by his neglect of him, and by his own jealousy of Canidius: for Munatius wrote memoirs of Cato, which Thraseas has chiefly followed. He tells us, that he was amongst the last that arrived at Cyprus, and, by^ that means, found nothing but the refuse of the lodgings; that he went to Cato’s apartments, and was refused admittance, because Cato was privately con¬ certing something with Canidius; and that when he modestly complained of this conduct, he received a severe answer from Cato, who observed, with Theophrastus, that too much love was frequently the occasion of hatred; and that he, because of the strength of his attachment to him, was angry at the slightest inattention. He told him, at the same time, that he made use of Canidius as a necessary agent, and because he had more confidence in him than in the rest, having found him honest, though he had been there from the first, and had op¬ portunities of being otherwise. This conversation, which he liad in private with Cato, the latter, he informs us, related to Canidius; and when this came to his knowledge, he would neither attend at Cato’s entertainments, nor, though called upon, assist at his councils. Cato, threatening to punish lum for disobedience, and as is usual to take a pledge from hin:.,^ * When a magistrate refused a summons to the senate or public coun :il. CATO THE YOUNGER. - 431 count, his habit. Being ajipoirilcd to the government oi he pacsed over to Syracuse: and finding that Asinius wr;S arrived at Messanla with a detachment from the i he sent to him to demand the reason of his coming; bm only answered his question by another, and demanded « to know the cause of these revolutions. When he was i m his soever nai ac- Sicily, Pollio -•nemy, Follio )f Cato n form¬ ed that Pompey had evacuated Italy, and was encan ped at Dyrrhachium,—“ How mysterious,’^ said he, “ are the ways of Providence! When Pompey neither acted upon the princi¬ ples of wisdom, nor of justice, he vvas invincible; but now that he would save the liberties of his coiintry, his good ibrtune seems to have forsaken him. Asinius (he said) he couxd easi¬ ly drive out of Sicily; but as greater supplies were at hand, he was unwilling to involve the island in war.” He, there¬ fore, advised the Syracusans to consult their safety by loining the stronger party, and soon after set sail. When he came to Pompey, his constant sentiments were, that the war should be procrastinated in hopes of peace; for that if they came to blows, which party soever might be successful, the event would be decisive against the liberties of the state. He also prevailed on Pompey, and the council of war, that neither any city sub¬ ject to the Romans should be sacked, nor any Roman killed, except in the field of battle. By this he gained great glory, and brought over many, by his humanity, to the interest of Pompey. When he went into Asia for the purpose of raising men and ships, he took with him his sister Servilia, and a little boy that she had by Lucullus; for, since the death of her husband, she had lived with him; and this circumstance of putting herself under the eye of Cato, and of following him through the se¬ vere discipline of camps, greatly recovered her reputation; yet Caesar did not fail to censure Cato even on her account. Though Pompey’s officers in Asia did not think that they had much need of Cato’s assistance, yet he brought over the Rhodians to their interest; and tliere leaving his sister Servilia s id her son, he joined Pompey’s forces, which were now on a respectable footing, both by sea and land. It was on this oc¬ casion That pompey discovered his final vnwvs. At first he int'^.j.ded to have given Caro tlie supreme nav al command; and he lad then rau fewer than live hundred men oi war, besides an infinite number of open galleys and tenders. Reflecting, however, or reminded by his friends, that Cato’s great prin¬ ciple was on ail occasions to rescue the commonwealth from tb^ 'gQVr*r:3.ment of an individual: and that, it i»'vesteJ with so CATO THE YOUNGER 44 ^ C 3 nsiderajle a power himself, the moment Caesar should be vanquished, he would oblige Pompey too to lay down his arms, and submit to the laws; he changed his intentions, though he had already mentioned them to Cato, and gave the command of the fleet to Bibulus. The zeal of Cato, howeATi*. was not abated by this conduct. When they were on the eve of a battle at Dyrrhachium Pompey himself addressed and en¬ couraged the army, and ordered his officers to do the same. Their addresses, notwithstanding, were coldly received. But when Cato rose, and spoke upon the principles of philosophy concerning liberty, virtue, death, and glory; wlien, by his im¬ passioned action, he showed that he felc what he spoke, and that his eloquence took its glowing colours from his soul; when he. concluded with an invocation to the gods, as witnesses of thtur efforts for the preservation of their country, the plaudits of the army rent the skies, and the generals marched on in full confidence of victory. They fought and were victorious; though Caesar’s good genius availed him of the frigid caution and diffidence of Pompey, and rendered the victory incom¬ plete. But these things have been mentioned in the life of ronipey. Amid the general joy that followed this success, Cato' alone mourned over his country, and bewailed that fatal and cruel ambition, which covered the field with the bodies of citizens, fallen by the hands of each other. When Pompey, in pursuit of Caesar, proceeded to Thessaly, and left in Dyrrha¬ chium a large quantity of arms and treasure, together with some friends and relations, he gave the whole in charge to Cato, with the command of fifteen cohorts only; for still he was afraid of his republican principles. If he should be van¬ quished, indeed, he knew he would be faithful to him; hut if he should be victor, he knew, at the same time, that he would not permit him to reap the reward of conquest in the sweets of absolute power. Cato, however, had the satisfaction of being attended by many illustrious persons in Dyrrhachium. After the fatal overthrow at Pharsalia, Cato, determined, in case of Pompey’s death, to conduct the people under his charge to Italy, and then to retire into exile, far from the cognizance of the power of the tyrant; but if Pompey survived, he was resolved to keep his little forces together for him. With this design, he passed into Corcyra, where the fleet was stationed: and would there have resigned his command to Cicero, be¬ cause he had been consul, and himself only praetor. But Ci¬ cero declined it, and set sail for Italy. Pompey the younger resented this defection, and was about to lay violent hands on Cicero and some pthers, but Cato prevented him by pi’ivate expos'Illation, and thus saved the lives brth of Cicero and the rest. 444 CATO THE yOEXGEIt Cato, upon a supposition that Pompey the Great would make his escape into Egypt or Libya, prepared to follow him, together with his little force, after having first given, to such as chose it, the liberty of staying behind. As soon as he had reached the African coast, he met with Sextus, Pompey’s younger son, who acquainted him with the death of his father. This greatly afHicted the little band; but as Pornpey was no more, they unanimously resolved to have no other leader than Cato. Cato, out of compassion to the honest men that had j)ut their confidence in him, and because he would not leave them destitute in a foreign country, took upon him the com¬ mand. He first made for Cyrene, and was received by the people, though they had before shut their gates against La- bienus. Here he understood that Scipio, Pompey’s father-in- law, was entertained by Juba; and that Appius Varus, to whom Pompey had given the government of Africa, had joined them wdth his forces. Cato, therefore, resolved to march to them by land, as it was now winter. He had got together a great many asses to carry water, and furnished himself also with cattle and other victualling provisions, as w’ell as with a num¬ ber of carriages. He had likewise in his train some of the people called Psylli,^ who obviate the bad effects of the bite of serpents by sucking out the poison, and deprive the ser¬ pents themselves of their ferocity by their charms. During a continued march for seven days, he was always foremost, though he made use of neither horse nor chariot. Ever after * These people were so called from their king* Psyllus, whose tomb was in the reg*ion of the Syrtes. Varro tell sus, that to try the legitimacy of their children, they suffer them to be bitten by a venomous serpent; and if they survive the wound, they conclude that they are not spurious. Crates l*ergamenus says there were a people of this kind at Paros on the Helles¬ pont, called Ophiogenes, vvliose touch alone was a cure for the bite of a serpent. Celsus observes that the Psylli suck out the poison from the wound, not by any superior skill or quality, but because they have courage enough to do it. Some writers have asserted that the Psylli have an innate quality in their constitution that is poisonous to serpents; and that the smell of it throws them into a profound sleep. Pliny maintains, that ever) man has in liiraself a natural poison for serpents; and that those creatures will shun the human saliva, as they would boiling water. The fasting saliva, in jiarticular, if it comes within their mouths, kills them immediately. If, therefore, we may believe that the human saliva is an antidote to the poison of a serpent, we shall have no occasion to believe, at the same time, that the Psylli were endowxd w’ith any peculiar qualities of this kind, but that their success in these operations arose, as Celsus sa) s, Ex uudacld usu con- HrriuLid. However, tliey made a considerable trade of it; and we are as¬ sured, that they have been known to import the African serpents into Italy and other counti’ies, to increase their gain. Pliny says, they brought scor pioui into Sicily, hut they would net live in that island. CATO THE YOUNGER. 4t5 the u\ifurlij»>ate battle of Phaersalia, he ate sitting,^ Ixitending it as an addiuonai token of mourning, that he never lay down except to sleep. ]iy the end of winter he reached the place of his designation in Libv^a, with an army of near ten thousand men. The aflliir i of Scipio and V^arus were in a bad situation, by reason of the ! lisunderstanding and distraction which prevailed between them, and wiiich led them to pay their court with great ser¬ vility to Juba, whose wealth and power rerdered him intolera¬ bly arrogant. For when he first gave Cato audience, he took his place between Scipio and Cato. But ('ato took up his chair, and removed it to the other side of Scipio; thus gi ving him the most lionourabie place, thougii he was his enemy, and had published a libel against him. Cato’s adversaries have not paid proper regard to his spirit on this occasion, but they have been ready enough to blame him for putting Philostratus m the middle, when he was walking with him one day in Sici¬ ly, though he did it entirely out of regard to philosophy. In this manner he humbled Juba, who had considered Scipio and V'arus as little more than his lieutenants; and he took care also to reconcile them to each other. The whole army then desired him to take the command upon him; and Scipio and Varus readily offered to resign it: but he said,—“ He would not transgress the laws, for the sake of which he was waging war with the man who tram¬ pled upon them; nor, when he was only propraetor, take tlie command from ^ proconsul,^^ For Scipio had been appointed proconsul; and his name inspired the generality with hopes of success; for they thought a Scipio could not be beaten in Africa. Scipio being established commander-in-chief, to gratify Juba, was inclined to put all the inhabitants of Utica to the sword, and to raze the city, as a place engaged in the interest of Cae¬ sar. But Cato would not suffer it: he inveighed loudly in council against that design, invoking heaven and earth to op¬ pose it; and, with much difficulty, rescued that people out of the hands of cruelty. After which, partly on their application, and partly at the request of Scipio, he agreed to take the com mand of the town, that it might neither willingly, nor unwill¬ ingly fall into the hands of Caesar. Indeed, it was a place very convenient and advantageous to those who were masters of it; and Cato added much to its strength, as well as convenience; for he brought into it a vast quantity of bread-corn, repaired the wails, erected towers, and fortified it with ditches and * The consul Varro the same after the battle of Carinas. ceremony of mourning. VoL.* III [t was a 38 446 CATO THE YOUNGER ramparts. Then he armed all the youth of Utica, and pvOsted them in the trenches under his eye; as t'or the rest of the inhabi tants, he kept them close within the walls; but, at the same time, took great care that they should suffer no injury of any kind from the Romans. And by- the supply^ of arms, of money and provisions, which he sent in great quantities to the camp, Utica came to be considered as the principal magazine. The advice he had before given Pompey, he now gave to Scipio,—Not to risk a battle with an able and experienced warrior, but to take the advantage of time, which most effec tually blasts the growth of tyranny.’^ Scipio, however, in his rashness, despised these counsels, and once even scrupled not to reproach Cato with cowardice; asking him,— “ Whether he could not be satisfied with sitting still himself within walls and bars, unless he hindered others from taking bolder mea¬ sures upon occasion?’’ Cato wrote back,—'Fhav he was ready to cross over into Italy with the horse and foot which he had brought into x\frica, and, by^ bringing Caesar upon himself, to draw him from his design against Scipio.” But Scipio only ridiculed the proposal; and it was plain that Cato now repent¬ ed his giving up to him the command, since he saw that Scipio wmuld take no rational scheme for the conduct of the w^ar; and that if he should, beymnd all expectation, succeed, he would behave with no kind of moderation to the citizens. It was. therefore, Cato’s Judgment, and he often declared it to his friends,—That, by reason of the incapacity and rashness of the generals, he could hope no good end of the war; and that, even if victory should declare for them, and Caesar be destroy^ ed, for his part, he would not stay at Rome, but fly from the cruelty^ and inhumanity of Scipio, who already threw out in¬ solent menaces against many of the Romans.” The thing came to pass sooner than he expected. About midnight a person arrived from the army, whence he had been three days in coming, with news that a great battle had been fought at Thapsus; that all was lost; that Caesar was master of Doth the camps; and that Scipio and Juba were fled with a few troops which had escaped the general slaughter. On the receipt of such tidings, the people of Utica, as might be expected amidst the apprehensions of night and war, were in the utmost distraction, and could scarce keep themselves within the walls. But Cato making his appearance among the citizens, who were running up and down the streets with great confusion and clamour, encouraged them in the best manner he could. To remove the violence of terror and as¬ tonishment, he told them the case might not be so bad as it was represented, the misfortune being possibly exaggerated by report; and thus he calmed the nresent tumuli. As soon as il CATO THE YOUNGER. 447 was lights hp summoned to the temple of Jupiter the three hundred, whom he made use of as a council. These were the Romans who trafficked there in merchandise and exchange of money; and to them he added all the senators and their sons. While they were assembling, he entered the house with gieal composure and firmness of look, as if nothing extraordinary had happened; and read a book which he had in his hand. This contained an account of the stores, the corn, the arms, and other implements of war, and the musters. When they w^ere met, he opened the matter,—With com¬ mending the three hundred for the extraordinary alacrity and fidelity they had showed in serving the public cause with theii' purses, their persons, and their counsels, and exhorting them not to entertain different views, or to endeavour to save them¬ selves by flight. For (continued he) if you keep in a body, Caesar will not hold you iii such contempt if you continue the war; and you will be more likely to be spared if you have ]’e- course to submission. I desire you wdll consider the point thoroughly, and what resolution soever you may take, I will not blame you. If you are inclined to go with the stream of fortune, I shall impute the change to the necessity of the dmes. If you bear up against their threatening aspect, and continue to face danger in the cause of liberty, I will be your fellow-soldier as well as captain, till our country has experi¬ enced the last issues of her fate: our country, which is not in Utica or Adrymetum, but Rome; and she, in her vast re¬ sources, has often recovered herself from greater falls than this. Many resources we certainly have at present; and the principal is, that we have to contend with a man wdiose occa* sions oblige him to attend various objects. Spain is gone over to young Pompe}:"; and Rome, as yet unaccustomed to the yoke, is ready to sjDurn it from her, and to rise on any pros¬ pect of change, isor is danger to be declined. In this you niay take your enemy for a pattern, who is prodigal of his blood in the most iniquitous cause; whereas, if you succeed, you will live extremely happy; if you miscarry, the uncer¬ tainties of war will be terminated with a glorious death. How¬ ever, deliberate among yourselves as to the steps you should take, first entreating heaven to prosper your determinations in a m shown. T'his speech of Cato inspired some with confidence, and even with hope; and the generality were so much affected wdth his intrepid, his generous, and humane turn of mind, that they almost forgot their present danger; and looking upon him as the only general that was invincible, and superior to all for- u e, they desi?*vl him to “ make what use he thought proptiT anner worthy the courage and zeal you have already 448 CATO THE YOUNGER, of then fortunes and their arms; for that it was better to die under his banner than to save their lives at the expense of be traying so much virtue/^ One of the council observed ihe expediency of a decree for enfranchising the slaves, and many commended the motion. Cato, however, said,—“ He would not do that, because it was neither just nor lawful; but such as their masters would voluntarily discharge, he would receive, provided they were of proper age to bear arms.’^ This many promised to do; and Cato withdrew, after having ordered lists to be made out of all that should offer. A little after this, letters were brouirht him from Ju])a and Scipio. Juba, who lay with a small corps concealed in the mountains, desired to know Cato’s intentions; proposing to wait for him if he left Utica, or to assist him if he chose to stand a siege. Scipio also lay at anchor under a promontory near Utica, expecting an answer on’the same account. Cato thought it advisable to keep the messengers till he should know the final determination of the three hundred. All the patrician order, with great readiness, enfranchised and armed their slaves; but as for the three hundred, who dwelt in traffic and loans of money at high interest, and whose slaves were a considerable part of their fortune, the impression which Cato’s speech had made upon them did not last long. As some bodies easily receive heat, and as easily grow cold again when the fire is removed, so the sight of Cato warmed and li¬ beralized these traders; but when they came to consider the matter among themselves, the dread of Caesar soon put to flight their reverence for Cato and for virtue. For thus they talked,—What are we, and what is the man whose orders we refuse to receive? Is it not Caesar, into whose hands the whole power of the Roman empire is fallen? And surely none oi us is a Scipio, a Pompey, or a Cato. Shall we, at a time when their fears make all men entertain sentiments beneath their dignity: shall we, in Utica, fight for the liberty of Rome with a man against whom Cato and Pompey the Great durst not make a stand in Italy? Shall we enfranchise our slaves to oppose CcCsar, who have no more liberty ourselves than that conqueror is pleased to leave us? Ah! wretches that we arc! Let us at last know ourselves, and send deputies to intercede with him for mercy.” This was the language of the most mo derate among the three hundred; but the greatest part of them lay in wait for the patricians, thinking, if tliey could seize upon them they should more easily make their peace with Cae¬ sar. Cato suspected the change, but made no remonstrances against it: he only wrote to Scipio and Juba to keep at a dis¬ tance from Utica, because the three hundred were not to be depended upon. CATO THE YOUNGEH. 44^ In the meantime, a considerable body of cav?jlry, who had escaped out of the battle approached Utica, and despatclied three men to Cato, though they could come to no unanimous resolution: for some were for joining Juba, some Cato, and others were afraid to enter Utica. This account being brought to Cato, he ordered Marcus Rubrius to attend to the business of the three hundred, and quietly take down the names of such as offered to set free their slaves, without pretending to use the least compulsion. Then he w^ent out of the town, taking the senators with him, to a conference with the principal otfi- cers of the cavalry. He entreated their officers not to aban dan so many Roman senators; nor to choose Juba rather than Cato, for their general, but to join and mutually contribute to each other's safety, by entering the city, which was impregna ble in point of strength, and had provisions and every thing necessary for defence for many years. The senators second¬ ed this application with prayers and tears. The officers went to consult the troops under their command; and Cato with the senators, sat down upon one of the mounds to wait their an¬ swer. At that moment Rubrius came up in great fury, inveighing against the three hundred, who, he said, behaved in a very dis¬ orderly manner, and were raising commotions in the city. Upon this, many of the senators thought their condition des¬ perate, and gave into the utmost expressions of grief; but Cato endeavoured to encourage them, and requested the three hun dred to have patience. Nor was there any thing moderate in the proposals of the cavalry. The answer from them was,—“ That they had no desire to be in the pay of Juba; nor did they fear Caesar while they should have Cato for their general; but to be shut up with Uticans, Phoenicians who would change with tlie wind, was a circumstance which they could not bear to think of: for (said they) if they are quiet now, yet when Caesar arrives they will betray us, and conspire our destruction. Whoever, therefore, desires us to range under his banners there, must first expel the Uticans, or put them to the sword, and then call us into a place clear of enemies and baVbarians.’’ These proposals ap¬ peared to Cato extremely barbarous and savage: however, he mildly answered,—That he would talk to the three hundred 3 ibou‘: them.^’ Then entering the city again, he applied to that set of men, who now no longer, out of reverence to him, dissembled or palliated their designs. They openly expressed their resentment, that any citizens should presume to lead them against Csesar, with whom all contest was beyond the*! p^wer and their hopes. Nay, some went so far as to sa}^— ^Urhat the senators ought to be detained in the town till Ca^sai VoL. III.-2 L CATO THE YOUNGER. rf/)0 came.’’ Cato let this pass as if he heard it not; and, indeed, he was a little deaf. But being informed that the cavalry were marching off, he was afraid that the three hundred would take some desperate step v/ith respect to the senators: and he therefore went in pur suit of them with his friends. As he found they were gof un¬ der marcli, he rode after them. It was with pleasure they saw him approach; and they exhorted him to go with them, and save his life with theirs. On this occasion, it is said, that Cato shed tears, while he interceded with extended hands in behalf of the senators. He even turned the heads of some of their horses, and laid hold of their armour, till he prevailed with tlierri to stay at least that day, to secure the retreat of the senators. When he came back with them, and had committed the charge of the gates to some, and the citadel to others, the three hundred were under great apprehensions of being pun¬ ished for their inconstancy, and sent to beg of Cato, by all means, to cerne and speak to them. But the senators would not suffer him to go. They said they would never let their guardian and deliverer come into the hands of such perfidious and traitorous men. It was now, indeed, that Cato’s virtue appeared to all ranks of men in Utica in the clearest light, and commanded the highest love and admiration. Nothing could be more evident, than that the most perfect integrity was the guide of his actions. He had long resolved to put an end to his being, and yet he submitted to inexpressible labours, cares, and conflicts for others, that, after he had secured their lives, he might relinquish his own: for his intentions in that respect were obvous enough, though he endeavoured to conceal them. Therefore, after having satisfied the senators as well as he could, he went alone to wait upon the three hundred:— “ They thanked him for the favour, and entreated him to trust them and make use of their services; but as they were not Catos, nor had Cato’s dignity of mind, they hoped he would pity their weakness. Tliey told him they had resolved to send deputies to Caesar, to intercede first and principally for Cato. If that re¬ quest should not be granted, they would have no obligation lo him for any favour to themselves; but as long as they had breath, would fight for Cato.” Cato made his acknowlcdg- nien-^s for their regard, and advised them to send immediately to intercede for themselves:—For me,” said he, intercede not. It is for the conquered to turn suppliants, and for those who have done an injury to beg pardon. For my part, I have been unconquered through life, and superior in the thing I wdshed to he, for in justice and honour I am Caesar’s superior. Caesar is the vanquished, the falling man, being now clearly CATO THE YOUNGER. 45 I ronvicletl of Ihose designs against his country which he had long; denied.” After he had thus spoken to the three hundred, he left them; and being informed that Caesar was already on his march to Utica,—‘‘ Strange!” said he, it seems he takes us for men.” He then went to the senators, and desired them to hasten their flight while the cavalry remained. He likewise shut all the gates except that which leads to the sea; appointed ships for those who were to depart; provided for good order in the town; redressed grievances; composed disturbances; and fur¬ nished all w'ho wanted with the necessary provisions for the voyage. About this time Marcus Octavius* approached the place with two legions; and, as soon as he had encamped, sent to desire Cato to settle with him the business of the command. Cato gave the messengers no answer, but turning to his friends, said,—Need we wonder that our cause has not prospered, when we retain our ambition on the very brink of ruin?” In the meantime, having intelligence that the cavalry, at their departure, were taking the goods of the Uticans as law¬ ful prize, he hastened up to them: and snatched the plunder out of the hands of the foremost: upon which they all threw down what they had got, and retired in silence, dejected and ashamed. He then assembled the Uticans, and applied to them in behalf of the three hundred, desiring them not to exasperate Caesar against those Romans, but to act in concert with them, and consult each other’s safety. After which, he returned to the sea-side to look upon the embarkation; and such of his friends and acquaintances as he could persuade to go, he em¬ braced, and dismissed with great marks of affection. His son was not willing to go with the rest; and he thought it was not right to insist on his leaving a father he was so fond of. There was one Statyllius,t a young man, who affected a firmness and resolution above his years, and in all respects studied to appear like Cato, superior to passion. As this young man’s enmity to CfEsar was well known, Cato desired him by all means to take ship with the rest; and when he found him bent upon staying, he turned to Apollonides the Stoic, and Demetrius the Peripa¬ tetic, and said,—It is your business to reduce this man’s ex¬ travagance of mind, and to make him see what is for his good.” He now dismissed all except such as had business of import¬ ance with 'nim; and upon these he spent that night and great part of the day following. * The same who commanded Pompey’s fleet. Thin brave young Roman was the same who, after the battle of Philip, pi went through the enemy to inquire into the condition of Brutus’s camp# and was slain in his return b\ Caesar’s soldiers. 452 CATO THE YOUNGER. Lucius Caesar, a relation of the conqueror, who intended to Intercede for the three hundred, desired Cato to assisl him in to be indebted,said he, to Caesar for rny life, I ought to go in person and without any mediator; but I will not have any obligation to a tyrant in a business by which he subverts the laws. And he does subvert the laws, by saving, as a master, those over whom he has no right of authority. Nevertheless, we will consider, if you please, how to make your application more effectual in behalf of the three hundred. After he had spent some time with Lucius Caesar upon this affair, he recommended his son and friends to his protection, conducted him a little on his way, and then took his leave, and retired to his own house. His son and the rest of his friends being assembled there, he discoursed with them a considerable time; and among other things, charged the young man to take no share in the administration:—For the state of affairs,” said he, is such, that it is impossible for you to fill any office in a manner worthy of Cato; and to do it otherwise would be unworthy of yourself.” In the evening he went to the bath; where bethinking him¬ self of Statyilius, he called out aloud to Apollonides, and said,—Have you taken down the pride of that young man? and is he gone without bidding us farewell?” No, indeed,’" answered the philosopher, we have taken a great deal of pains with him, but he continues as lofty and resolute as ever; he says, he will stay, and certainly follow your conduct.” Cato then smiled, and said,—That will soon be seen.” After bathing he went to supper, with a large company, at which he sat, as he had always done since the battle of Phar- salia; for (as we observed above) he never now lay down except to sleep. All his friends, and the magistrates of Utica, supped with him. After supper the wine was seasoned with much wit and learning; and many questions in philosophy were pro¬ posed and discussed. In the course of the conversation they came to the paradoxes of the Stoics, (for so their maxims are commonly called,) and to this in particular,—That the good naan only is free, and all bad men are slaves.”^ The Peripa¬ tetic, in pursuance of his principles, took up the argument against it: upon which Cato attacked him with great warmth, and in a louder and more vehement accent than usual, carried on a most spirited discourse to a considerable length. From the tenor of it the whole company perceived he had determin* * This was not only the sentiment of the Stoics, but of Socrates. CATO THE YOUNGER. 453 ed to put an end to his being, to extricate himself from the hard conditionvS on which he was to hold it. As he found a deep and melancholy silence the consequence of his discourse, he endeavoured to recover the spirits of his guests, and to remove their suspicions, by talkiiig of their present affairs, and expressing his fears both for his friends and partisans who were upon their voyage, and for those who had to make their way through dry deserts and a barbarous country. After the entertainment was over, he took his usual eve ning walk with his friends, and gave the officers of the guards such orders as the occasion required, and then retired to his chamber. The extraordinary ardour with which he embraced his son and his friends at this parting recalled all their suspi¬ cions. He lay down, and began to read Plato’s book on the Immortality of the Soul; but before he had gone through with it, he looked up, and took notice that his sword was not at the head of his bed, where it used to hang; for his son had taken it away while he was at supper. He, therefore, called his ser¬ vant, and asked him who had taken away his sword? As the servant made no answer, he returned to his book; and after a while, without any appearance of haste or hurry, as if it was only by accident that he called for the sword, he ordered him to bring it. The servant still delayed to bring it, and he had patience till he had read out his book; but then be called his servants one by one, and in a louder tone demanded his sword At last he struck one of them such a blow on the mouth that he hurt his own hand; and growing more angry, and raising his voice still higher, be cried,—I am betrayed, and deliver¬ ed naked to my enemy, by my son and my servants.” His son then ran in with his friends, and tenderly embracing him, had recourse to tears and entreaties. But Cato rose up, and with a stern and awful look, thus expressed himself:—When and where did I show any signs of distraction, that nobody offers to dissuade me from any purpose I may seem to be wrong in, but I must be hindered from pursuing my resolu¬ tions thus disarmed? And you, young man, why do you not bind your father; bind his bands behind his back, that when Caesar comes he may find me utterly incapable of resistance? As to a sword, 1 have no need of it to despatch myself; for if I do ->ut hold my breath awhile, or dash my head against the W'all, it will answer the purpose as well.” Up-an his speaking in this manner, the young man went out of the chamber weeping, and with him all the rest, except De¬ metrius and Apollonides. To these philosophers he address¬ ed himself in a milder tone;—Are you also determined to make a man of my age live whether he will or no? And do 454 CATO THE YOUNGER. you sit here in silence to watch me? Or do you bung any ar- guments to prove, that, now Cato has no hopes from any otliei quarter, it is no dishonour to beg mercy of his enemy? Why do not you be'jrin a lecture to inform me better, that, dismissini! the ooinions in which you and I have lived, we mav, ihroujih Caesar’s means, grow wiser, and so have a still greater obligi- tion TO him? As yet I have determined nothing with respect to myself; but I ought to have it in my powder to put my pur¬ pose in execution w^hen I have formed it. And, indeed, 1 shall in some measure consult with you, for I shall proceed in my deliberations upon the principles of your philosophy. Be satisfied then, and go tell my son, if persuasion will not do, not to have recourse to constraint.’^ They made no answ^er, but w^ent out; the tears falling from their eyes as they withdrew. The sw’ord was sent in by a lit¬ tle boy. He drew, and examined it; and finding the point and the edge good,—Now^,” said he, I am master of my seif.” Then laying dowm the sword, he took up the book again, and, it is said, he perused the whole twice.* After w^hich he slept so sound, that he was heard by those who were in w^aiting without. About midnight he called for tw^o of his freedmen, Cleanthes the physician, and Butas, whom he ge¬ nerally employed about public business. The latter he sent to the port, to see whether all the Romans had put off to sea. and bring him word. In the meantime, he ordered the physician to dress his hand, wdiich was inflamed by the blow he had given his servant. This w^as some consolation to the wdiole house, for now they thought he had dropt his design against his life. Soon after this, Butas returned, and informed them that they" w"ere all got off except Crassus, who had been detained by some business, but that he intended to embark very soon, though the w"ind blew hard, and the sea was tempestuous. Cato, at this news, sighed in pity of his friends at sea, and sent Butas again, that if any^ of them happened to have put back, and should be in w"ant of any thing, he might acquaint him wdth it. By^ this time the birds began to sing,t and Cato fell again into a little slumber. Butas, at his return, told him all was quiet in the harbour; upon which Cato ordered him to shut the door, having first stretched himself on the bed, as if he designed to sleep out the rest of the night; but after Butas w-as gone, he drew his sword, and stabbed himself under the breast. How ever, he could not strike hard enough on account of the inflam mation in his hand, and, therefore, did not presently expire, * Yet this very dialog’iie condemns suicide in the strongest terms. -*0 c^y/5 xdiyal souiy Nevertheless, he wiped off all aspersions by his death: for, fighting at Philippi against Octavius Ceesar and Antony, in the cause of liberty, after his party gave way, he disdained to fly. Instead of slipping out of the action, he challenged the enemy to try their strength with Cato; he animated such of his troops as had stood their ground, and fell, acknowledged by his ad¬ versaries as a prodigy of valour. Cato’s daughter was much more admired for her virtues. She was not inferior to her father, either in prudence or in for¬ titude; for, being married to Brutus, who killed Caesar, she was trusted with the secret of the conspiracy, and put a period to her life in a manner worthy of her birth and of her virtue; as we have related in the life of Brutus. As for Statyllius, who promised to imitate the pattern of Cato, he would have despatched himself soon after him, but was prevented by the philosophers. He approved himself afterwards to Brutus a faithful and able officer, and fell in thf battle of Philippi. THE LIFE OF AGIS. It is not without appearance of probability that some think the fable of Ixion designed to represent the fate of ambitious tnem Ixion took a cloud instead of Juno to his arms, and the Centaurs were the offspring of their embrace: the ambitious embrace honour, which is only the image of virtue; and, go verned by different impulses, actuated by emulation and all the variety of passions, they produce nothing pure and genuine* the whole issue is of a preposterous kind. The shepherds in Sophocles say of their flocks,— -These are our subjects, yet wc serve them, And listen to their nmte command. The same may be truly affirmed of those great statesmen who govern according to the capricious and violent inclinations of the people. They become slaves to gain the name of magis¬ trates and rulers. As in a ship, those at the oar can see what is before them better than the pilot, and yet are often looking back to him for orders: so they who take their measures of ad¬ ministration only with a vew to popular applause, are called governors indeed, but, in fact, are no more than slaves of the people. The complete, the honest statesman, has no farther regard to the public opinion, than as the confidence it gains him facilitates his designs, and crowns them with success. An ambitious young man may be allowed, indeed, to value himself upon his great and good actions, and to expect his portion of fame; for virtues, as Theophrastus says, when they first begin to grow in persons of that age and disposition, are cherished and strength¬ ened by jiraise, and afterwards increase in proportion as the love of glory in creases. But an immoderate passion for fame in all affairs is dxu\gerous, and in political matters destructive. For, joined to great authority, this passion drives all that are pos¬ sessed with it into folly and madness, while they no longer think that glorious which is good, but account whatever is glorious to be also good and honest. Therefore, as Phocion said to An¬ tipater, when he desired something of him inconsistent with VfL. 39 458 ACTS. justice,—“You can not have Phocion for your fricmd and flat¬ terer too,’^ this, or something like it, should be said to the multitude,—You can not have the same man both for your governor and your slave;’’ for that would be no more than exemplifying the fable of the serpent. The tail, it seems, one day quarrelled with the head, and, instead of being forced al¬ ways to follow, insisted that it should lead in Its turn. Ac¬ cordingly, the tail undertook the charge, and as it moved for¬ ward at all adventures, it tore itself in a terrible manner; and the head, which was thus obliged, against nature, to follow a guide that could neither see nor hear, suffered likewise in its turn. We see many under the same predicament, whose ob¬ ject is popularity in all the steps of their administration. At¬ tached entirely to the capricious multitude, they produce such disorders as they can neither redress nor restrain. These observations on popularity were suggested to us, by considering the effects of it in the misfortunes of Tiberius and Caius Gracchus. In point of disposition, of education, and political principles, none could exceed them; yet they were ruined, not so much by an immoderate love of glory, as by a fear of disgrace, which, in its origin, was not wrong. They had been so much obliged to the people for their favour, that they were ashamed to be behind-hand with them in the marks of attention. On the contrary, by the most acceptable services, »^^hey always studied to outdo the honours paid them; and being still more honoured on account of those services, the aflection between them and the people became at last so violent, that it forced them into a situation wherein it was in vain to say,— “Since we are wrong, it would be a shame to persist.” In the course of the history, these obseiwations occur. With those two Romans let us compaie two Spartan kings, Agis and Cleomenes, who were not behind them in popularity. Like the Gracchi, they strove to enlarge the privileges of the people, and by restoring the just and glorious institutions which had long fallen into disuse, they became equally ob¬ noxious to the great, who could not think of jiarting with the superiority which riches gave them, and to which they had long been accustomed. These Spartans were not, indeed, brothers; but their actions were of the same kindred and com¬ plexion: the source of which was this: — When the love of money made its way into Sparta, and hrouo’ht avarice and meanness in its train, on the one hand, on the other, profusion, effeminacy, luxury, that state soon de¬ viated from its original virtue, and sunk into contemj^t till the reign of Agis and Leonidas. Agis was of the family of Eurytion, tlie son of Eudamidas, the sixth in descent from Agesilaus, distinguished by his expedition into Asia, and for his eminence AGIS. 459 in Greece. Agesilaus was succeeded by his son Archidainus who was slain by the Messapians at Mandonium in Italy.^ Agis was the eldest son ol’ Archidamus, and being slain at Me^ galopolis by Antipater, and leaving no issue, was succeeded by his brother Eudamidas. He was succeeded by another Archidamus, his son, and that prince by another Eudamidas, his son likewise, and the father of that Agis of whom we are now speaking. Leonidas, the son of Cleonymus, was of ano- her branch of the family of the Agiadae, the eighth in descent from that Pausanias who conquered Alardonius at Plataea. Pausanias was succeeded by his son Plistonax, and he by ano¬ ther Pausanias, who being banished to Tegea, left his kingdom to his eldest son Agesipolis. He, dying without issue, was succeeded by his brother Cleombrotus, who left two sons, Agesipolis and Cieomenes. Agesipolis, after a short reign, died without issue, and Cieomenes, w’ho succeeded him in the kingdom, after burying his eldest son Acrotatus, left surviving another son Cleonvmus, who, however, did not succeed to the kingdom, which fell to Areus, the son of Acrotatus and grand¬ son of Cieomenes. Areus being slain at Corinth, the crown descended to his son Acrotatus, who was defeated and killed in the battle of Megalopolis by the tyrant Aristodemus. He left his wife pregnan.t, and as the child proved to be a son, Leonidas the son of Cleonymus took the guardianship of him; and his charge dying in his minority, the crown fell to him. This prince was not agreeable to his people. For though the corruption was general, and they all grew daily more and more depraved, yet Leonidas was more remarkable than the rest for his deviation from the customs of his ancestors. He had long been conversant in the courts of the Asiatic princes, particu¬ larly in that of Seleucus, and he had the indiscretion to intro¬ duce the pomp of those courts into a Grecian state, into a king¬ dom where the laws were the rules of government. Agis far exceeded, not only him, but almost all the kings who reigned before him since the great Agesilaus, in goodness of disposition, and dignity of mind. For though brought up in the greatest affluence, and in all the indulgence that might be expected from female tuition, under his mother Agesistrata and his grandmother Archidamia, who were the richest per¬ sons in Lacedaemonia, yet before he reached the age of twenty, he declared war against pleasure; and, to prevent any vanity which the beauty of his person might have suggested, he dis¬ carded ail unnecessary ornament and expense, and constantly appeared in a plain Lacedaemonian cloak. In his diet, his bath- * We know of no such place as Mandonium. Probably we should reaO Ma.nduriumy which is a city of Iapyg*ia, mentioned by the geographers. Cclkiri'os, p. 902. 460 AGI». ing, and in all his exercises, he kept close to the Spartan sim • plicity; and he often used to say that the crown was no farther an object of desire to him, than as it might enable him to re¬ store the laws and ancient discipline of his country. The first symptoms of corruption and distemper in their commonwealth appeared at the time when the Spartans had entirely destroyed the Athenian empire, and began to bring f ;old and silver into Lacedaemon. Nevertheless, the Agrarian aw established by Lycurgus still subsisting, and the lots ot land descending undiminished from father to son, order and equality in some measure remained, which prevented other errors from being fatal. But Epitadeus, a man of great autho¬ rity in Sparta, though at the same time factious and ill-natur¬ ed being appointed one of the ephori^ and having a quarrel with his son, procured a law that all men should have liberty to ali enate^ their estates in their life-time, or to leave them to whom they pleased at their death. It was to indulge his private re¬ sentment, that this man proposed the decree, which others ac¬ cepted and confirmed from a motive of avarice, and thus the best institution in the world w’as abiogated. Men of fortune now extended their landed estates without bounds, not scru pling to exclude the right heirs; and property quickly coming into a few hands, the rest of the people were poor and misera¬ ble. The latter found no time or opportunity for liberal arts and exercises, being obliged to drudge in mean and mechanic employments for their bread, and, consequently envy and hatred on the rich. There remained n( , looking with not above seven hundred of tlie old Spartan families, of which, perhaps, one hundred had estates in land. The rest of the city was filled with an insignificant rabble, without property or honour, who had neither neart nor spirit to defend their country against wars abroad, and who were always watching an opportunity for changes and revolutions at home. For these re isons, Agis thought it a noble undertaking, as in fact it was, to bring the citi/.ens again to an equality, and, by tiiat meafis, to replerush Spayta with respectable inhabitants. For this purpose iie sounded the inclinations of his subjects. The young inun listened to 'him with a readiness far beyond his expectation; they adopted the cause of virtue with him, and, for the sake of iiberty, changed their manner of livings with as little objection as they would have changed their ap¬ parel. But most of the old men being far gone in corruption, * It was g'ood policy in the king’s of England and France to procure lawi empowering the nobility to alienate their estates, and by that means to re¬ duce their power; for the nobility in those times were no better than so ma ny petty t} rants. AGIS. 4bl were as much afraid of the name of Lycurgus, as a fugitiv^c slave, when brought back, is of that of his master. They in¬ veighed, therefore, against Agis for lamenting the prt^sent state of things, and desiring to restore the ancient dignity ot Sparta. On the olher hand, Lysander the son of Libys, Man droclidas the son of Ecphanes, and Agesilaus, not only came into his glorious designs, but co-operated with them. Sander had great reputation and authority among the Spartans. No man understood the interests of Greece better than Mandroclidas, and with his shrewdness and capacity he had a proper mixture of spirit. As for Agesilaus, he was un¬ cle to tiie king, and a man of great eloquence, but at the same time, euerninate and avaricious. However, he was animated to this enterprise by his son Hippomedon, who had distinguish¬ ed himself in many wars, and was respectable on account of the attachment of the Spartan youth to his person. It must be ac¬ knowledged, indeed, that the thing which really persuaded Agesilaus to embark in the design, was the greatness of his debts, which he hoped to be cleared off by a change in the con¬ stitution. As soon as Agis had gained him, he endeavoured, with his assistance, to bring his own mother into the scheme. She was sister to Agesilaus, and by her extensive connections, her wealth, and the number of people who owed her money, had great influence in Sparta, and a considerable share in the ma¬ nagement of public affairs. Upon the first intimation of the thing, she was quite astonished at it, and dissuaded the young man as much as possible from measures which she looked upon as neither practicable nor salutary. But Agesilaus showed her that they might easily be brought to bear, and that they would prove of the greatest utility to the state. The young prince, too, entreated his mother to sacrifice her wealth to the advance¬ ment of his glory, and to indulge his laudable ambition:—“ It is impossible,’’ said he,^^ for me ever to vie with other kings in point of opulence. The domestics of an Asiatic grandee, nay, the servants of the stewards of Ptolemy and Seleucus, were richer than all the Spartan kings put together. But if by sobriety, by simplicity of provision for the body, and by great¬ ness of mind, I can do something which shall far excel all their pomp and luxury, I mean the making an equal partition of property among all the citizens, I shall really become a great kin^, and have all the honour that such actions demand.’^ 1 his address changed the opinions of the women.—They entered into the young man’s glorious views; they caught the flame of virtue, as it were, by inspiration: and, in their turoj hastened Agis to put his scheme in execution. They sent for their friends, and recommended the affair to them; and they did 39 *. 462 AGW. the saiTie to the other matrons, for they knew that the Lace« daernonians always hearken to their wives, and that the women are permitted to intermeddle more with public business than the men are with the domestic. This, indeed, was the princi¬ pal obstruction to Agis’s enterprise. Great partoi the wealth of Sparta was now in the hands of the women: consequently, they opposed the reformation, not only because they knew they must forfeit those gratitications, in which their deviation from the severer paths of sobriety had brought them to place their happiness, but because they saw they must also lose that ho¬ nour and power which follow property. They, therefore, ap¬ plied to Leonidas, the other king, and "desired him, as the older man, to put a stop to the projects of Agis. Leonidas was inclined to serve th-e rich; but as he feared the people, who were very desirous of the change, he did not op¬ pose it openly. Privately, however, he strove to blast the design, by applying to the magistrates, and invidiously repre¬ sented,—That Agis offered the poor a share in the estates of ricia, as the price of absolute power; and that the distribu¬ tion of lands and cancelling of debts was only a means to pur- c'n*^>se Jiuards for himself, not citizens for Sparta.’’ A ?,)s, however, having interest to get Lysander elected one of the ephori^ took the first opportunity to propose his rhetra to the senate; according to which,—Debtors were to be releas¬ ed from their obligations, and lands to be divided in the fol¬ lowing manner:—Those that lay between the valley of Pellene and Mount Taygetus, as far as Malea and Sellasia, were to be distributed in four thousand five hundred equal lots; fifteen thousand lots were to be made of the remaining territory, which should be shared among the neighbouring inhabitants who were able to bear arms: as to what lay within the limits first nieiitioned, Spartans were to have the preference: but if their number fell short, it should be made up out of strangers, who were unexceptionable in point of person, condition, and education. These were to be divided into fifteen companies, some of four hundred, some of two hundred, who were to eat together, and keep to the diet and discipline enjoined by the laws of Lycurgus.” The decree thus proposed in the senate, and the members difl'ering in their opinions upon it, Lysander summoned an as¬ sembly of the people; and he, with Mandroclidas and Agesi- laus, in their discourse to the citizens, entreated them not to suffer the few to insult the many, or to see with unconcern the majesty of Sparta trodden under foot. They desired them to recollect the ancient oracles, which bade them beware of the love of money, as a vice the most ruinous to Sparta, as well as the late answer from the temple of Pasiphae, which gave then? AGIS. 463 me same warning: for Pasiphge had a temple and oracle Thalamiae.^ Some say, this Pasiphee was one of the daugh¬ ters of Atlas, who had by Jupiter a son named Amrnom Others suppose her to be Cassandra,t the daughter of Priam, who died at that place, and might have the name of Pasiphse^X from her answering the questions of all that consulted her. But Phylarchus says, she was no other than Daphne, the daughter of Amyclas, who flying from the solicitations of Apollo, was turned into a laurel, and afterwards honoured by that deity with the gift of prophecy. Be that as it may, it w^as affirmed that her oracle had commanded all the Spartans to re¬ turn to the equality which the laws of Lycurgus originally en¬ joined. Last of all, king Agis entered the assembly, and, after a short speech, declared that he wmuld contribute largely to the institution he recommended. He would first, give up to the community his own great estate, consisting of arable and pas¬ ture land, and of six hundred talents in money: then his mo¬ ther and grandmother, all his relations and friends, wffio were the richest persons iia Sparta, would follow his example. The people w^ere astonished at the magnificence of the young man’s proposal, and rejoiced that now, after the space of three hundred years, they had at last found a king worthy of Sparta. Upon this Leonidas began openly and vigorously to oppose the new regulations. He considered that he should be obliged to do the same with his colleague, without finding the same acknowledgments from the people: that all would be equally under a necessity of giving up their fortunes; and that he wffio first set the example, wmuld alone reap the honour. He there¬ fore demanded of Agis,—“ Whether he thought Lycurgus a just and a good man?” Agis answering in the affirmative, Leonidas thus went on:—But did Lycurgus ever order just debts to be cancelled, or bestow the freedom of Sparta upon strangers? Did he not rather think his commonwealth could not be in a salutary state, except strangers were entirely ex¬ cluded?” Agis replied ,—“ He did not wonder that Leonidas, who was educated in a foreign country, and had children by an * Those who consulted this oracle lay down to sleep in the tempV, and the goddess revealed to them the object of their inquiries in a dream.— Cic. de Div. 1. i. ■j- Pausanias would incline one to think that this was the goddess Ino, On the road between Oetylus and Thalamiae,*’ says he, “ Is the temple of Ino. It is the custom of those who consult her to sleep in her temple, and what they want to know is revealed to them in a dream. In the court of the temple are two statues of brass, one of Paphia, (it ougl\t to be Pasiphas^) the other of the sun. That winch is in the temple is so covered with gaiw lands and fillets that it is not to be seen; but it is said to be of brass. 464 ACIS. intermarriage with a Persian family, should be ignorant that Lycurgus, in banishing money, banished both debts and usury from Lacedaemon. As for strangers, he excluded only those who were not likely to conform to his institutions, or fit to class with his people: for he did not dislike them merely as strangers; his exceptions were to their manners and customs, and he was afraid that, by mixing with his Spartans, they would infect them with their luxury, effeminacy and avarice. Terpander, Thales^ and Pherecydes, were strangers, yet, be» cause their poetry and philosophy moved in concert with the maxims of Lycurgus, they were held in great honour at Sparta. Even you commend Ecprepes, who, when he was one of the tphori^ retrenched the two strings which Phrynis the musician had added to the seven of the harp; you commend those who did the same by Timotheus;^ and yet you complain of our in¬ tention to banish superfluity, pride and luxury, from Sparta. Do you think that, in retrenching the swelling and supernu« merary graces of music, they had no farther view, and that they were not afraid the excess and disorder would reach the lives and manners of the people, and destroy the harmony oi the state?” From this time the common people followed Agis: but the rich entreated Leonidas not to give up their cause; and they exerted their interest so effectually with the senate, whose chief power lay in previously determining what laws should be proposed to the people, that they carried it against the rhe~ irn by a majority of one. Lysander, however, being yet in office, resolved to prosecute Leonidas upon an ancient law. which forbids every descendant of Hercules to have children by a woman that is a stranger, and makes it capital for a Spar tan to settle in a foreign country. He instructed others to allege these things against Leonidas, while he, with his col¬ leagues, watched for a sign from heaven. It was the custom for the ephori^ every ninth year, on a clear star-light night when there was no moon, to srt down, and in silence observe the heavens^ If a star happened to shoot from one part of them to another,, they pronounced the kings guilty of some crime against the gods, and suspended them till they were re established by an oracle from Delphi or Olympia. Lysander, affirming that the sign had appeared to him, summoned Leoni¬ das to his trial, and produced witnesses to prove, that he had two children by an Asiat'c woman, whom one of Seleucu's’ir lieutenants had given him to wife; but that, on her conceiving * Timotheiis the Milesian, a ceTehi’ated l^ithyvambic poet and musicinrs. He a(Med even a twelftli string* to the harp, for which he was severely pun¬ ished by the sage Spartans, who concluded that luxury of sound would e# feminate the people AGIS. 465 a mortal aversion to him, he returned home against his will, and filled up the vacancy in the throne o\ Sparta. During this suit, he persuaded Cleombrotus, son-in-law to Leonidas, and a prince of the blood, to lay claim to the crown. Leoni¬ das, greatly terrified, fled to the altar of Minerva, in the C/i(d* cicecus,^ as a suppliant; and his daughter, leaving Cleombrotus, joined him in the intercession. He was re-summoned to the court of judicature; and, as he did not appear, he was deposed, and the Kingdon adjudged to Cleombrotus. Soon after this revolution, Lysander’s time expired, and he quitted his office. The ephorl of the ensuing year listened to the supplication of Leonidas, and consented to restore him. They likewise began a prosecution against Lysander and Man- droclidas for the cancelling of debts and distribution of lands, ^ which those magistrates agreed to, contrary to law. In this danger they persuaded the two kings to unite their interest, and to despise the machinations of the ephori: These magis¬ trates,’^ said they, ‘‘ have no power but what they derive from some difierence betw^een the kings. In such a case thev have a right to support with their suffrage the prince whose mea sures are salutary, against the other who consults not the pub¬ lic good; but when the kings are unanimous, nothing can over¬ rule their determinations. To resist them is then to fight against the laws. For,” as we said, they can only decide between the kings in case of disagreement; when their senti¬ ments are the same, the ephori have no right to interpose.” The kings, prevailed upon by this argument, entered the place of assembly with their friends; where they removed the ephori from their seats, and placed others in their room. Age- silaus was one of these new magistrates. They then armed a great number of the youth, and released many out of prison; upon which their adversaries were struck wdth terror, expect¬ ing that many lives wmu d be lost. How^ever, they put notone man to the sword: on the contrary, Agis understanding that Agesilaus designed to kill Leonidas in his flight to Tegea, and had planted assassins for that purpose on the way, generously sent a party of men whom he could depend upon, to escort him, and tney conducted him safe to Tegea. Thus the business went on with all the success they could desire, and they had no farther opposition to encounter. But this excellent regulation, so worthy of Lacedaemon, miscarried through the failure of one of its pretended advocates, the vile disease of avarice in Agesilaus. He was possessed of a large and fine estate in land, but at the same time deeply in debt and as he was neither able to pay his debts, nor wdllir.g tb jjart * Minerva had a temple at Sparta entirely of brass. VoL. III.-3N 466 AGIS. vv’ith Ills land, he represented to Agis, that if both his inten Lions were carried into execution at the same time, it would probably raise great commotions in Sparta; but if he firsi obliged the rich by the cancelling of debts, they would after¬ wards quietly and readily consent to the distribution of lands. Age^ilaus drew Lysander, too, into the same snare. An order, therefore, was issued for bringing in all bonds, (the Lacedae¬ monians call them claria^) and they were piled together in the market-place and burnt. When the fire began to burn, the usurers and other creditors walked off in great distress. But Agesilaus, in a scoffing way said ,—“ He never saw a brighter or more glorious flamed^ The common people demanded that the distribution of lands should also be made immediately, and the kings gave orders for it; but Agesilaus found out some pretence or other for de¬ lay, till it was time for Agis to take the field in behalf of the Achaeans, who were allies of the Spartans, and had applied to them for succours: for they expected th-at the ^tolians would take the route through the territory of Megara, and enter Pe¬ loponnesus. Aratus, general of tbe Achaeans, assembled an arm}^ to prevent it, and wrote to the ephori for assistance. They immediately sent Agis upon that service; and that prince went out with the highest hopes, on account of the spirit of his men and their attachment to his person. They were most of them young men in very indifferent circumstan¬ ces, who, being now released from their debts, and expecting a division of lands, if they returned from the war, strove to re¬ commend themselves as much as possible to Agis. It was a most agreeable spectacle to the cities, to see them march through Peloponnesus without committing the least violence, and with sucn discipline that they were scarce heard as they passed. The Greeks said one to another ,—“ With what ex¬ cellent order and decency must tre drmies under Agesilaus, Lysander, or Agesilaus of old, have moved, when we find such exact obedience, such reverence in these Spartans to a general, who is, perhaps, the youngest man in the whole army!’’ In¬ deed, this young prince’s simplicity of diet, his love of laoour, and his affecting no show, either in his dress or arms, above a private soldier, made all the common people, as he passed, look upon him with pleasure and admiration: but his new regu¬ lations at Lacedaemon displeased the rich, and they were afraid that he might raise commotions every where among the com¬ monalty, and put them upon following the example. After Agis had joined Aratus at Corinth, in the delibera¬ tions about meeting and fighting the enemy, he showed a pro¬ per courage and spirit, without any enthusiastic or irrational flights. He gave it as his opinion ,—“ That they should give AGI8. 467 battle, and not suffer the war to enter the gates of Peloponne¬ sus. He would do, however, what Aratus thought most ex- ped enl, because he was the older man, and general of the Achaeans, whom he came not to dictate to, but to assist in the war.’’ It must be acknowledged that Bato'^ of Sinope relates it in another manner. He says, Aratus was for fighting, and Agis declined it. But Bato had never met with what Aratus writes, by way of apology for himself, upon this point. That geneial tells us,—“ That as the husbandmen had almost finished their harvest, he thought it better to let the enemy pass than to ha¬ zard, by a battle, the loss of the whole country.” Therefore, when Aratus determined not to fight, and dismissed his allies with compliments on their readiness to serve him, Agis, who had gained great honour by his behaviour, marched back to Sparta, where by this time, internal troubles and changes de¬ manded his presence. Agesilaus, still one of the ephori^ and delivered from the pressure of debt which had weighed down his spirits, scrupled no act of injustice that might bring money into his coffers. He even added to the year a thirteenth month, though the proper period for that intercalation was not come, and insisted on the people’s paying supernumerary taxes for that month. Being afraid, however, or revenge from those he had injured, and seeing himself hated by all the world, he thought it necessary to maintain a guard, which always attended him to the senate- house. As to the kings, he expressed an utter contempt for one of them, and the respect he paid the other he would have un¬ derstood to be, rather, on account of his being his kinsman, than his wearing the crown. Besides, he propagated a report, that he should be one of tlie the year following. His enem.ies, therefore, determined tohazard an immediate attempt against him, and openly brought back Leonidas from Tegea, and placed him on the throne. The people saw it with plea sunj; for they were angry at finding themselves deceived with lespect to the promised distribution of lands. Agesilaus had hardly escaped their fury, had not his son Hippomedori, who was held in great esteem by the whole city on account of hi valour, interceded for his life. The kings both took sanctuary, Agis in Chalcicecus^ and Cle- ombrotus in the temple of Neptune. It was against the latter that Leonidas was most incensed; and, therefore, passing Asfis by, he went with a party of soldiers to seize Cleombroius, »»Thom he reproached, in terms of resentment, with conspiring • He wrote the liistory of Persia. 468 AGIS. against him, though honoured with his alliance, deprlvii'.g him of tne crown, and banishing him his country. Cleombfotus had nothing to say, but sat in the deepest dis¬ tress and silence. Chelonis, the daughter of Leonidas, had /ooked upon the injury done her father as done to herself: when Cleombrotus robbed him of the crown, she left him, to console her father in his misfortune. While he, was in sanc¬ tuary, she staid with him, and when he retired, she attended him in his flight, sympathizing with his sorrow, and full of resentment against Cleombrotus. But when the fortunes ol her father changed, she changed too. She joined her husband as a suppliant, and was found sitting by him with great marks of tenderness, and her two children, one on each side, at her feet. The whole company were much struck at the sight, and they could not refrain from tears when they considered her goodness of heart, and such superior instances of affection. Chelonis then pointing to her mourning habit and dishevel¬ led hair, thus addressed Leonidas:—It was not, my dear fa¬ ther, compassion for Cleombrotus which put me in this habitj and gave me this look of misery. My sorrows took their date with your misfortunes and your banishment, and have ever since remained my familiar companions. Now you have con¬ quered your enemies, and are again king of Sparta, should I still retain these ensigns of affliction, or assume festival and royal ornaments, while the husband of my youth, whom you gaVe me, falls a victim to 3 mur vengeance? If his own sub¬ mission, if the tears of his wife and children, can not propitiate you, he must suffer a severer punishment for his offences than you require;—he must see his beloved wife die before him. For how can I live and support the sight of my own sex, after both my husband and my father have refused to hearken to my supplication,—when it appears that, both as a wife and a daughter, I am born to be miserable with my family? If this poor man had any plausible reasons for what he did, 1 obviated them all by forsaking him to follow you. But you furnish him with a sufficient apology for his misbehaviour, by show¬ ing that a crown is so great and desirable an object, that a son- in-law must be slain, and a daugliter utterly disregarded, where that is in the question. Chelonis, after this supplication, rested her cheek upon her husband’s head, and, with an eye dim and languid with sor¬ row, looked round on the spectators. Leonidas consulted his friends upon the point, and then commanded Cleombrotus to rise and go into exile; but he desired Chelonis to sta}^ and not leave so affectionate a father, who had been kind enough to grant her husband’s life. . Chelonis, however, wguld not be persuaded. When her husband was risen from the ground. AGIS 469 she put one child in his arms, and took the other herself, and after having paid due homage at the altar where they had taken sanctuary, she went with him into banishment: so that, had not Cleombrotus been corrupted with the love of false glory, he must have thought exile with such a woman a greater hap¬ piness than a kingdom without her. After Cleombrotus was thus expelled, the ephori removed, and others ])ut in their place, Leonidas laid a solieme to get Agis into his power. At first he desired him to leave his sanctuary, and resume his share in the government:—For the people,^’ he said, thought he might well be pardoned, as a young man ambitious of honour; and the rather, because they, as well as he, had been deceived by the craft of Agesi laus.’’ But when he found that Agis suspected him, and chose to stay where he was, he threw off the mask of kindness. Amphares, Demochares, and Arcesilaus, used to give Agis their company, for they were his intimate friends. They like¬ wise conducted him from the temple to the bath, and, rfter he had bathed, brought him back to the sanctuary. Amphares had lately borrowed a great deal of plate and other rich furni¬ ture of Agesistrata, and he hoped, that if he could destroy the king and the princesses of his family, he might keep those goods as his own. On this account, he is said to have first listened to the suggestions of Leonidas, and to have endea¬ voured to bring the ephori^ his colleagues, to do the same. As Agis spent the rest of his time in the temple, and only went out to the bath, they resolved to make use of that oppor¬ tunity, Therefore, one day on his return, they met him with a great appearance of friendship, and as they conducted him on his way, conversed with much freedom and gaiety, which his youth and their intimacy wdth him seemed to warrant. But when they came to the turning of a street, which led to the prison, Amphares, by virtue of his office, arrested him:— I take you, Agis,’’ said he, into custody, in order to your giving account to the ephori of your administration.” At the same time, Demochares, who was a tall strong man, wrapped his cloak about his head, and dragged him off. The rest, a? they had previously concerted the thing, pushed him on be¬ hind; and no one coming to his rescue or assistance, he nas committed to prison. Leonidas presently came with a strong band of mercenanes to secure the prison without; and the ephori entered it with such senators as were of their party. They began, as in a ju¬ dicial process, with demanding what he had to say in defence of his procee,'.' ; • - > - . ^ H ■*>'.' ^ , ,-. v ■ t fcj* . - . ^ ,V..,!• - V -■■“'■ V '. ' -trl- . . ; . ■‘‘'{ ; •■*•.«■' » .’ * Jhtr »*« *' * r-i , :f:- -•%•' ' <■ •■■ ' ^ • ■> ., '■•■;■ iTijife'3a» ■ »■■ ■■■■ -'-ii V 4 ,w> ,Jk4. 'j •