THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY From the collection of JULIUS DOEP^JER, Chicago Purchased, 1918. V./ THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE EGYPTIANS, CARTHAGINIANS ISSYRIANS, BABYLONIANS, ME DBS AND PERSIANS, MACEDONIANS AND GRECIANS. BIT CHARLES ROLLIN^ L«tc Principal of the University of Paris, Professor of Eloquenct Is the Royal College, and Mennber of the Royal Ar.ademy of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH. IN FOUR VOLUMES. VOLUME 1. FROM THE LATEST LONDON EDITIOM, CAREFULLY REVISED AND CORRECTED. ILLUSTRATED WITH MAPS OF ANCIENT GEOGRAPHY ANr> ENGRAVIaNGS ADAPTED TO THE WORK!. NEW-YORK: PUBLISHED BY LEAVITT & ALLEN, 27 DEY STREET. 185*3. UlRKCTIONS FOR THE BINDER VOLUME 1. f^TE 1. Head of Rollin, to face 2. Vignette Title— Joseph bought, &c . • 3. View of Alexandria, to face page . • • 4. Carthage, 5. Syria, 6. Babylon, VOLUME IL . ..^ 7. Syracuse, to face 8. 7ignette Title — Xerxes commands, kc. VOLUME IIL 9. Phoenicia, to face 10. Vignette Title — Alexander's entrance, &c. VOLUME IV. 11. Egypt, to face • • 12. Vignette Title— A Colossal, &c &e. TO THE PUBLIC. To attempt any laboured panegyric of an author of so distinguished celebrity 'd% RoLLiN, would be an arduous as well as superfluous undertaking. His profound erudition, the benevolence of his intentions, but above all, the piety of his sentiments, which clash with no sect or party among Christians, have already placed him high in the annals of fame, and have procured his writings an universal perusal. A peculiar felicity has attended Rollin as an author. — His various perform ances have not only been perused with avidity by the public at large; they have also merited the applause of the learned and ingenious. — Writers of the most enlightened and of the most refined taste in polite literature, such as Vol- taire, Atterbury, &c. have honoured him with the highest and most deserved encomiums. So various is onr author's information, and so consummate his knowledge in every subject which occupied his pen, that, viewing him in this light, we would be ready to imagine he had seldom stirred abroad from the studious and cloistered retirement of a college; but, on the other hand, when we con- sider the easy elegance for which his style is so remarkable, we are apt tc conclude, that he past part of his lime in courts. A circiimstance which reflects the highest honour upon this author, is his uncommon modesty. Learning, which too often elates the mind, and pro- duces a haughty air of superiority, had no such effect on Rollin. — This great man, so far from delivering his sentiments in a dictatorial tone, ever speaks ia terms the most unassuming. No preceptor ever studied so carefully the genms and dispositions of youth, or adapted his information so successfully for their improvement, as our au- thor. In all his works, it is not the pedagogue who instructs, but the fond pa rent — the amiable friend. 465144 • APPROBATION. Paris, Seftember 3, 1729. 1 HAVE read, by order of the lord-keeper, a manuscript, entitled, The An- cient History of the Egyptians, Carthaginians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Medes, Persians, Macedonians, and Greeks, &c. In this work appear the same prin- ciples of religion, of probity, and the same happy endeavours to improve the minds of youth, which are so conspicuous in all the writings of this author. The present wofk is not confined merely to the instruction of young people, but may be of service to all persons in general, who will now have an opportu- nity of reading, in their native tongue, a great number of curious events, which before were known to few except the learned. Seccussp A LETTER, Written by the Right Reverend Dr. Francis AxxERBURr ; late Lord BisHor of Rochester ; to M. Rollin. Rev. atque Erudittssime Vir, (JuM, monente amico quodam, qui juxta sedes tuas habitat, scirem te Parisioa revertisse ; statui salutatum te ire, ut primiim per valetudinem liceret. Id officii, ex pedum infirmitate aliquaadiu dilatum, cum tandem me imple^urum sperarem, frustra fui ; domi non eras. Restat, ut quod coram exequi non polui, scriptis saltern literis praestem ; tibique ob ea omnia, quibus a te auctus sum, beneficia, grates agam, quas habeo eerie, et semper habiturus sum, niaximas. Revera munera ilia librorum nuperis a te annis editorum egregia ac perho- norifica mihi visa sunt. Multi enim facio, et te, vir prsestantissime, et tua omnia qusecunque in isto literarum genere perpolita sunt; in quo quidern te ca3teris omnibus ejusmodi scriptoribus facile antecellere, atque esse eundem et dicendi et sentiendi magistrum optimum, prorsiis existimo; curaque in ex- colendis his studiis aliquantulum ipse et operae et temporis posuerim, liberc tamen profiteor me, tua cum legam ac relegam, ea edoctum esse a te, non solum quae nesciebam prorsus, sed etiam quae antea didicisse mihi visus sum. Modeste itaque nimium de opere tuo sentis, ciim juventuti tantiim instituendae elaboratum id esse contendis. Ea cert^ scribis, quae a viris istiusmodi rerum laud imperitis, cum voiuptate et fructu legi possunt. Vetera quidem et satis cognita revocas in memoriam ; sed ita revocas, ut illustres, ut ornes ; ut aliquid vetustis adjicias quod novum sit, alienis quod omnino tuum : bonasque picturas bona m luce collocando efficis, ut etiam iis, a quibus ssepissime conspectaj sunt, elegantiores tamen solito appareant, et placeant magis. Certe, dum Xenophontem saepius versas, ab illo et ea quae a te p'urimis in locis narrantur, et ipsum ubique narrandi modum videris traxisse, stylique Xenophontei nitorum ac venustam simplicitatem non imitari tantiim, sed plane assequi : ita ut si Gallice scisset Xenophon, non aliis ilium, in eo argumento quod tractas, verbis usurum, non alio prorsiis more scripturum judicem. Haec ego, baud assentandi causa (quod vitiumprocul a me abest,) sed vere ex animi sententia dico. Cum enim pulchris a te donis ditatus sim, quibus in eo- dem, aut in alio quopiam doctrinae genere referendis imparem me senlio, volui tamen propensi erga te animi gratique testimonium proferre, et te aliquo sal- tem munusculo, etsi perquam dissimili, remunerari. Perge, vir docte admodiim et venerande, de bonis literis, quae nunc ne- glectae passim et spretae jacent, ben^ mereri ; perge juventutem Gallicam (quando illi solummodo te utilem esse vis) optimis et praeceptis et exemplis informare. Q,uod ut facias, annis aetatis tuae elapsis multos adjiciat Deus! iisque decur- rentibns sanum te praestet atque incolumem. Hoc ex animo optat ac vovet, Tui observantissimus, Franciscus Roffensi*. Pransurum te mecum post festa dixit mihi amicus ille noster qui tibi vicinai «st. Cuni statueris tecum quo die adfuturus es, id illi significabis. Me eerie 4nnis malisque debilitatum, quandocunque veneris, domi invenies, 6- Kal. Jan. 1731. TRANSLATION OF THE FOREGOING LETTER. Reverend and most Learned Sir, When I was iaformed by a friend who lives near you, that you were return ed to Paris, I resolved to wait on you, as soon as the state of my health would ermit. After having been prevented by the gout for some time, I was ia opes at length of paying my respects to you at your house, and went thither, but you were not at home. It is incumbent on me, therefore, to do fiiat in writing, which I could not in person, and to return you my acknowledgments for all the favours you have been pleased to confer upon me, of which, I beg you will be assured, that I shall always retain the most grateful sense. And indeed I esteem the books you have lately published, as piesents of exceeding value, and such as do me very great honour. For I have the high- est regard, most excellent sir, both for you and for every thing that comes from so masterly a hand as yours, in the kind of learning you treat ; in which I must believe that you not only excel all other writers, but are at the same time the best master of speaking and thinking well; and I freely confess, that though I had applied some time and pains in cultivating these studies, when 1 read your volumes over and over again, I was instructed in things by you, of which I was not only entirely ignorant, but seemed to myself to have learned before. You have therefore too modest an opinion of your work, when you declare it composed solely for the instruction of youth. What you write may undoubtedly be read with pleasure and improvement, by persons not unac- quainted with learning of the same kind. For, while you call to mind an- cient facts, and things sufficiently known, you do it in such a manner, that you illustrate, you embellish them ; still adding something new to the old, some- thing entirely your own to the labours of others ; by placing good pictures in a good light, you make them appear with unusual elegance and more exalted Ixeauties, even to those who have seen and studied them most. In your frequent correspondence with Xenophon, you have certainly ex- tracted from him, both what you relate in many places, and every where his very manner of relating ; you seem not only to nave imitated, but attained the shining elegance and beautiful simplicity of that author's style ; so that, had Xenophon excelled in the French language, in my judgment, he would have used no other words, nor written in any other method, upon the subject you treat, than you have done. I do not say this out of flattery, which is far from being my vice, but from my real sense and opinion. As you have enriched me with your fine pre- sent*, which I know how incapable I am of repaying either m the same, or in any other kind of learning, I was willing to testify my gratitude and affection for you, and at least to make you some small, though exceedingly unequal return. Go on, most learned and venerable sir, to deserve well of sound literature, which now lies universally neglected and despised. Go on in forming the youth of France, since you will have their utility to be your sole view, upon th ^ best precepts and examples. Which that you may effect, may it please God to add many years to your lile, and during the course of them to preserve you in health and safety. This is the earnest wish and prayer of Your most obedient servant, Francis Roffen. P. S. Our friend, your neighbour, tells me you mtend to dme with me after the holidays. When you have fixed upon the day, be pleased to let him know it. Whenever you come, you will cei ainly find one, so weak with age and ills as I am, at home. I CONTENT8 INTRODUCTION. t ill, Utility of Profane History, especially with regard to Religion, . 16 Of Government, 23 Geogiaphy of Asia, . .... . . . . • 27 Of Religion, . . . . i 'i Bi i ..... 29 Of the Feasts, . . • . 30 The Panathenea, 30 Feasts of Bacchus, 32 The Feasts of Eleusis, ......... 33 Of Auguries, Oracles, &c , . . io Of Auguries, 36 Of Oracles, 37 Of the Games and Combats, ........ 43 Of the Athletae, or combatants, . . 46 Of Wrestling, 47 Of Boxing, or the Cestus, . . . • . .... 49 Of the Pancratium, .... . ..... 49 Of the Discus, or Quoit, . 50 Of the Pentathlum, 50 Of Races, 51 Of the foot-Race, .......... 51 \ Of the Horse-Races, 52 Of the Chariot-Races, 52 Of the Honours and Rewards granted to the Victors, .... 55 jThe different Taste of the Greeks and Romans in regard to the Public Shows, 57 Of the Prizes of Wit, and the Shows and Representations of the Theatre, 58 Extraordinary passion of the Athenians for the Entertainments of the Stage. Emulation of the Poets in disputing the Prizes of those Representations. A short Idea of Dramatic Poetry, 59 The Origin and Progress of Tragedy. Poets who excelled in it at Athens : jEschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, 61 Of the Ancient, Middle and New Comedy, 67 The Theatre of the Ancients described, ...... 72 Fondness for the Representations of the Theatre one of the Principal causes of the Decline, Degeneracy, and Corruption of the Athenian State, . 75 Epochs of the Jewish History, 80 Roman History, . 80 The Origin and Condition of the Elotae, or Helots, .... 81 Lycurgus, the Lacedaemcwtiian Lawgiver, . . . . . . 82 War between the Argives and the Lacedaemonians, .... 82 Wars between the Messenians and Lacedaemonians, .... 83 The First Messenian War, 83 The Second Messenian War, ....••« .86 The kingdom of Egypt, • • • 90 Syria, 91 — Macedonia, ... • . • • 91 Thrace, and Bithynia, &c. .... 92 8 CONTENTS. Kings of Biihynia, < • . * ^ . Pergamus, • • • • • • • 92 Pontus, • .93 Cappadocia^ • • . 93 Armenia, .94 Epirus, 94 Tyrants of Heraclea, » . . • 95 'Kings of Syracuse, ^6 Other Kings, . . , 9G BOOK I. THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE EGYPTIANS. PART I. Description of Egypt, with an account of whatever is most curious and remarkable in that country, ....... 97 Chap. 1. Thebais, . . . 97 II. Middle Egypt, or Heptanomis, 98 Sect. 1. The Obelioks, 99 11. The Pyramids, ' . 100 III. The Labyrinth, 101 IV. The Lake of Moeris, 102 V. The Inundations of the Nile, 102 1. The Sources of the Nile, 103 2. The Cataracts of the Nile, 103 3. Causes of the Inundations of the Nile, 104 4. The time and continuance of the inundations, .... 104 5. The Height of the inundations, 104 6. The Canals of the Nile, and Spiral Pumps, 105 7. The Fertility caused by the Nile, 106 8. The different Prospects exhibited by the Nile, . . . . 107 9. The Canal formed by the Nile, by which a communication is made between the Two Seas, . . 107 Chap. III. Lower Egypt, 107 PART IL |0f the Manners and Customs of the Egyptians, . . . . ,110 'Chap. 1. Concerning the Kings and Government, . . . . 110 — 11. Concerning the Priests and Religion of the Egyptians, . . 114 Sect. I. The worship of the various Deities, 115 II. The Ceremonies of the Egyptian Funerals, . . . .118 Chap. III. Of the Egyptian Soldiers and war, 12G IV. Of their Arts and Sciences, . . . . . • 121 ^V. Of their Husbandmen, Shepherds, and Artificers, . . 122 VI. Of the Fertility of Egypt, 124 PART in. The History of the Kings of Egypt, 128 The Kings of Egypt, ....... . . 129 Twelve Kings, ... . 139 BOOK II. THE HISTORY OF THE CARTHAGINIANS. PART I. Character^ Manners, Religion, and Government of the Carthaginians, 14S Btcv I, Canhage formed after the Model of Tyre, . . . . 1 4fr CONTENTS. 9 Sect. II. The Religion of the Carthaginians, . . . • .150 III. F orm of the Government of Carthage, • . . 153 The SufTetes, 153 The Senate, 154 The People, 154 The Tribunal of the Hundred, 154 Defects in the Government of Carthage, 155 Sect. IV. Trade of Carthage, the first source of its Wealth and Pov;^er. 15G V. The Mines of Spain, the second source of the Riches and Power of Carthage, 157 VL War, 158 VII. Arts and Sciences, 160 VIII. The Character, Manners, and Qualities of the Carthaginians, 162 PART IL The History of the Carthaginians, 163 Chap. I. The Foundation of Carthage, and its Progress till the time of the first Punic War, 164 Conquests of the Carthaginians in Africa, 165 Sardinia, &c . . • . 166 Spain, ...... 167 Sicily, 168 Chap. II. The History of Carthage, from the first Punic War to its Destruction, 185 Article I. The first Punic War, ......... 186 The Libyan War, or War against the Mercenaries, .... 197 Article H. The Second Punic War, 203 The remote and more immediate Causes of the Second Punic War, . 204 War proclaimed, 207 The beginning of the Second Punic War, 208 Passage of the Rhone, ... 209 The March after the Battle of the Rhone, ...... 210 The Passage over the Alps, 211 Hannibal enters Italy, 213 Battle of the Cavalry near the Ticinus, 213 Battle of Trebia, . 215 Battle of Thrasymene, 217 Hannibal's conduct with respect to Fabi IS, 219 The state of Affairs in Spain, 221 The Battle of Cannee, 221 Hannibal takes up his Winter-quarters in Capua, .... 225 The Transactions relating to Spain and Sardinia, ..... 226 The ill success of Hannibal. The Sieges of Capua and Rome, . . 227 The Defeat and Death of the two Scipios in Spain, .... 228 Asdrubal, . 228 Scipio conquers all Spain. Is appointed Consul, and sails into Africa. Hannibal is recalled, 230 The Interview between Hannibal and Scipio in Africa, followed by a Battle, 232 A Peace concluded between the Carthaginians and the Romans. The end of the Second Punic War, . . 234 A short Reflection on the Governmen of Carthage in the time of the Second Punic War, 236 10 CONTENTS. The interval between the Second and Third Punic Wars, . • . 236 Sect. I. Continuation of the History of Hannibal, ' . . • . 236 Hannibal undertakes and completes the reformation of the Courts of Justice, and the Treasury of Carthage, 237 The Retreat and Death of Hannibal, 238 The Character and Eulogium of Hannibal, 242 Sect. n. Dissensions between the Carthaginians and Masinissa, King of Numidia, . . . • 244 Article HI. The Third Punic War, . . - 248 A digression on the Manners and Character of the Second Scipio Africanus, 260 The History of the Family and Posterity of Masinissa, . . 264 BOOK III. THE HISTORY OF THE ASSYRIANS. Chap. 1. The First Empire of the Assyrians, . 271 Sect. 1. Duration of that Empire, . • . .271 1. The Walls, ........ - 275 2. The Quays and Bridges, 276 3. The Lake, Ditches, and Canals, made for the draining ol the river, 276 4. The Palaces and the hanging Gardens, . . . . • . 277 5. The Temple of Belus, . . . 278 Chap. n. The Second Assyrian Empire, both of Nineveh and Babylon, 283 Kings of Babylon, 284 Nineveh, 284 Chap. rn. The History of the Kingdom of the Medes, . . . . 292 Lydians, 299 BOOK IV. THE FOUNDATION OF THE EMPIRE OF THE MEDES AND PERSIANS, BY CYRUS, Containing the Reigns of CYRUS, CAMBYSES, AND SMERDIS THE MAGIAN. Chap. J. The History of Cyrus, .... . . . • 307 Article I. The History of Cyrus, from his Infancy to the Siege of Babylon, . 308 Sect. I. Education of Cyrus, . . ' . . . ... . 308 n. Journey of Cyrus to his Grandfather Astyages, and his return into Persia, 309 in. The First campaign of Cyrus, who goes to succour his Uncle Cyaxares against the Babylonians, 331 IV. The Expedition of Cyaxares and Cyrus against the Babylo- nians. The first Battle, 318 ^V. The Battle of Thymbria, between Cyrus and CroBSUs, . . 326 VI. The Taking of Sardis and of CrcEsus, 333 Article II. The History of the Besieging and Taking of Babylon by Cyrus, . . 335 Sect. I. Predictions of the Principal Circumstances relating to the Siege and the Taking of Babylon, as they are set down in different places of the Holy Scriptures, 335 1. The PredicMon of the Jewish Capti nty at Babvlon, and the Time of its Duration, 336 8. Th« Caus«8 of God's Wrath against Babylou, .... 336 CONTENTS. 11 rig*. 3. The Decree pronounced agaitjst Babylon. Prediction of the calami- ties that were to fall upon her, and of her utter Destruction, . . 336 4. Cyrus called to destroy Babylon, and to deliver the Jews, . . 337 5. God gives the Signal to the Commanders, and to the Troops, to march against Babylon, . . . 337 3. Particular circumstances set down, relating to the Siege, and the taking of Babylon, 338 Sect. II. A description of the Taking of Babylcto, .... 340 III. The Completion of the Prophecy which foretold the total Ruin and destruction of Babylon, • 342 IV. What followed upon the taking of Babylon, . • . • 344 Article III. The History of Cyrus, from the taking of Babylon to the time of his death, 348 Sect. I. Cyrus takes a Journey into Persia. At his Return from thence to Babylon, he forms a Plan of Government for the whole Empire. Daniels Credit and Power, 348 II. The Beginning of the united Empire of the Persians and Medes. The Famous Edict of Cyrus. Daniel's Prophecies, • . 350 Reflections on Daniel's Prophecies, 351 Sect. III. The last years of Cyrus.^ The Death of that Prince, . 354 Character and Eulogy of Cyrus, _ , 355 Sect. IV. Wherein Herodotvis^and Xenophon differ in their Accounts of Cyrus, \ . ^ 359 Chap. II. The History of Cambyses, 360 III. The History of ^merdis the Magian, .... 366 IV. The Manners ahd Customs of the Assyrians, Babylonians, LydianSjvM^iis and Persians, . . . . . . 369 Article I. Of their Government, 369 Sect. I. Their Monarchial Form of Government. The respect they paid to their Kings. The manner of Educating their Children, 369 IT. The Public Council, wherein the affairs of State were considered, 371 -HI. The Administration of Justice, ...... 373 IV. The care of the Provinces, . 375 The invention of Posts and Couriers, 378 Sect. V. Administration of the Revenues, 3i80 Article II. Of their War, . . ... 381 1. Their Entering into the Service, or into Military Discipline, • . 381 2. Their Armour, .381 3. Chariots armed with Scythes, 382 4. Their Discipline in peace as well as in War, 383 5. Their Order of Battle, 384 6. Their Manner of Attacking and Defending strong places, . • • 386 7. The condition of the P2rsian fo*-jes after the time of Cyrus, . . 387 Article III. Arts and Sciences, 38'i Sect. 1. Architecture, . . 3f/9 II. Music, ... . . . . . . . 339 HI. Physic, . . 390 IV. Astronomy, . • 392 V, Judic' ftl Aatrolo^, ...... 993 VZ CONTENT* Article IV. tleligion, 39- Their Marriages and Manner of Burying the Dead, . . . , 39S Article V. The cause of the Deciension of the Persian Empire, and cf the change p that happened in their Manners, . 400 Sect. L Luxury and Magnificence, 400 11. The abject Submission and Slavery of the Persians, . 402 — Wv-4'4ie wrong Education of their Princes, another cause of the Declension of the Persian Empire, .... 404 IV. Their breach of Faith, or want of sincerity, . . . 40.'> BOOK V. THE HISTORY OF THE ORIGIN AND SETTLEMENT OF THE SEVERAL STATES AND GOVERNMENTS OF GREECE. Art. I. A Geographical description of Ancient Greece, . . , 407 The Grecian Isles, .409 Art. II. Division of the Grecian History into four several Ages, . 409 Art. III. The Primitive Origin of the Grecians, 410 Art. IV. The different States into which Greece was divided, . . 411 Art. V. Colonies of the Greeks sent into Asia Minor, . . . .414 The Grecian dialects, 415 Art. VL The Republican form of Government almost generally estab- lished throughout Greece, . ' 416 Art. VII. The Spartan Government. Laws established by Lycurgus, 417 Institution 1. The Senate, 418 2. The division of the Lands, and the prohibition of Gold and Silver Money, 41S 3. Of Public Meals, 419 4. Other Ordinances, . . 420 Reflections upon the Government of Sparta, and upon the Laws of Ly- curgus, 424 i. Things commendable in the Laws of Lycurgus, .... 424 1 . The nature of the Spartan Government, ..... 424 2. Equal division of the Lands: Gold and Silver banished from Sparta, 425 The excellent Education of their Youth, 426 4^ Obedience, 427 5. Respect towards the aged, 427 11. Defects in the Laws of Lycurgus, 427 K The choice made of the children that were either to be brought up or exposed, 428 -"^^s Their care confined only to the body, 428 ""f^. Their barbarous cruelty towards their Children, .... '428 'i. The Mother's inhumanity, 429 5. Their excessive Leisure, 429 6. Their cruelty towards the Helots, 429 7. Modesty and decency entirely neglected, . ... 429 Art. VIII. The Government of Athens. The Laws of Solon. The History of that Republic from the time of Solon to the Reign of Darius the First, 430 Art. IX. Illustrious Men, who distinguished themselves in Arts and Sci- ences, • . . . . 442 Tkf Seven Wise Men of Greece, 447 fas tTiLU/ OF PROFANE HISTORY, ESPECIALLY WITH REGARD TO RKLIQIOX. 1 HE study of profane history would be unworthy of a What is to be obsrrvei serious attention, and the great length of time, be- history, besi.ies the stowed upon it, if it were contined to the bare knowledge chronoio^ry. of ancient transactions, and an unpleasing inquiry into the eras \^n each of these happened. It h'ttle concerns us to know that there were once such Hier. as Alexander, Caesar, Aristides, or Cato, and that they lived in this or that pe- riod; that the empire of the Assyrians made way for that of the Babylonians, and the latter lor the empire of theMedes and Persians, who were themselves subjected by the Macedonians, as these were afterwards by the Romans, But it h'^hly concerns us to know by what means those em- i. The causes of the pires were founded ; the steps by which they rose to the ^'^^ empires, exalted pitch of grandeur we so much admire ; what it was that constituted their true gloiy and felicity, and what were the causes of their declension and fail. It is of no less importance to study attentively the man- ^.^^^J^^'J nations ""'"^ ners of different nations ; their genius, laws, and customs ; thf ""grL " perscns""t£iat and especially to acquaint ourselves with the character governed th^m. and disposition, the talents, virtues, and even vices, of those men by whom they were governed ; and whose good or bad qualities contributed to the grandeur or decay of the^ states over which they presided. Such are the great objects which ancient history presents ; exhibiting to our view all the kingdoms and empires of the world; and at the same tin e, all the great men who are any way conspicuous; thereby instructing us, hy example rather than precept, in the arts of empire and war, the principles of government, the rules of policy, the maxims oi civil society, and the conduct of life that suits all ages and conditions. We acquire, at the same time, another knowledge, re«Tf-rtsSiLdeVc'T i^hich cannot but excite the attention of all persons who ^^^"^ arsan sciene- s have a taste and inclination for polite learning ; I mean, the manner in which arts and sciences were invented, cultivated, and improved ; we there discover and trace, as it were with the eye, their origin and progress ; and perceive with admiration, that the nearer we approach those countries which were once inhabited by the sons of Noah, in the greater perfection we find the arts and sciences; and that they seem to be either neglected or forgotten, in proportion to the remoteness of nations from them ; so that, when men attempted to revive those arts and sciences, they were obliged to go back to the source from fvhence they originally flowed. I give only a transient view of these objects, though so very important, in this place ; because I have already treated them with some extent elsewhere,* But another object, of infinitely greater importance, ^ The observing, e*- claims our attention. For although profane history treats £euv«n\acred Tnd onl^ of nations who had imbibed all the chimeras of a fane history, tuperstitious worship, and abandoned themselves to all the irregularities of wrhich human nature, after the fall of the first man, became capable ; it never- Vo! in. and lY of the m«?thoc! of leaching: and studjios: th« Belles L«ttrea. 1^ i.NTKoin*i '::<).•>( Iheless proclaims universally the greatness of the Almighty, his power, hii justice, and, above all, the admirable wisdom with which his providence go* verns the universe. If the inherent conviction of this last truth raised, according to Cicero's observation,* the Romans above all other nations ; we may, in like manner, affirm, that nothing gives history a greater superiority to many other branches of literature, than to see in a manner imprinted in almost every page of it, the precious footsteps and shining proofs of this great truth, viz. that Gk)d disposes all events as supreme Lord and Sovereign ; tnat he alone determines the fate oi kings sind the duration of empires ; and that he, for reasons inscrutable to all but himself, transfers the government of kingdoms from one nation to another. God presided at the We discover this important truth in going back to the jtpersion of men, after most rcmotc antiquit)r, and the origin of profane history ; * ' I mean to the dispersion of the posterity of Noah into the several countries of the earth where they settled. Liberty, chance, views of interest, a love for certain countries, and similar motives, were, in out- ward appearance, the only causes of the different choice which men made in these various migrations. But the Scriptures inform us, that amidst the trouble and confusion that followed the sudden change in the language of Noah's descendants, God presided invisibly over all their councils and de- liberations ; that nothing was transacted but by the Almighty's appointment ; and that he alone guided and settled all mankindt agreeably to the dic- tates of his mercy and justice. The Lord scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of the earth.l God only hai fixed the We must therefore consider as an indisputable princi- wit'h'^L^plctT'hii own P'®' as the basis and foundation to the study of profane people and the reign of nistoij, that the providcuce of the Almiffhty has, from all s®"- eternity, appointed the establishment, duration, and de- struction of kingdoms and empires, as well in regard to the general plan of the whole universe, known only to God, who constitutes the ordor dvA won- derful harmony of its several parts, as particularly with respect to the people of Israel, and still more with regard to the Messiah, and the establishment of the church, which is his great work, the end and design of all his other works, and ever present to his sight. — Known to the Lord are all Ms works from the beginning.^ God has vouchsafed to discover to us in holy Scripture, a part of the rela- tion of the several nations of the earth to his own people ; and the little so discovered, diffuses great light over the history of those nations, of whom we shall have but a very imperfect idea, unless we have recourse to the inspired vvriters. They alone display, and bring to light, the secret thoughts of princes, tVieir incoherent projects, their foolish pride, their impious and cruel ambition ; they reveal the true causes and hidden springs of victories and overthrows ; of the grandeur and declension of nations ; the rise and ruin of states ; and teach us ^vhat judgment the Almighty forms both of princes and empires, and conse- quently, what idea we ourselves ought to entertain of them. Powerful kings ap- Not to mention Egypt, that served at first as the cradle pointed to pmi»h or pro- ^jf I may be allowed the expression) of the holy nation ; "^'^^ * and which afterwards was a severe prison, and a fiery fur- •lace to it ;!l and, at last, the scene of the most astonishing miracles that God ever wrought in favour of Israel : not to mention, I say, Egypt, the mighty empires oT Nineveh and Babylon furnish a thousand proofs of the truth here advanced. * Pietate ac religiooe, atque hac una sapientia quod deorum immortaliLim numine omnia regi guberna- rique perspeximus, omnes g-entes nationesque superavimus. — Orat. de Arusp. Resp. n. 19. ^ The ancients themselves, according to Pirjdar, (Olymp. Od. rii.) retained some idea, that the dispersion of men was not the effect of chance, but that thej had been settled in differeat countries br the app9iattnt>nt of Providence. I Gen. »i. 8,-9. } Acts, xv. 18. |( I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians, and I will rid j^u •ui •t tb»ir H«adaf «. Gxod. r\. f Out of tbt irctrfarm^; ervoeuta £g7pt Deut. ir. 2(X lflTR0DUC110^. 15 Their most powerful monarchs, Tiglath-Pilesar, Salmanazar, Sennacherib, Nebuchadnezzar, and many more, were in God's hand, as so many instru- ments, which he employed to punish the transgressions of his people. He lifted up an ensign to the nations from far^ and hissed unto them from the end of the earth, to come and receive his orders.* He himself put tne sword into fiieir hands, and appointed their marches daily. He breathed courage and ardour »nto their soldiers : made their armies mdefatigable in labour, and in- vincible in battle ; and spread terror and consternation wherever they direct- ed their steps. The rapidity of their conquests ought to have enabled them to discern the Invisible hand that conducted them. But, says one of these kings t in the name of the rest. By the strength of my hand I have done it, and Sy my wis* dam ; for I am jprudent : And I have removed the bounds of the people and have robbed their treasures, and I have put down the inhabitants like a valiant man. And my hand hath found as a nest the riches of the people ; and at one gathereth eggs that are left, h^e I gathered all the earth, and there was none Jiat moved the wing, or opened the mouth or peeped,^ But this monarch, so august and wise in his own eye, how did he appear in that of the Almighty ? Only as a subaltern agent, a servant sent by his mas- ter : The rod of his anger, and the staff* in his hand.§ God's design was to chastise, not to extirpate his children. But Sennacherib had it in his heart to destroy and cut ojf all nations, \\ What then will be the issue of this kind of contest between the designs of God, and those of this prince ?1[ At the time that he fancied himself already possessed of Jerusalem, the Lord, with a sin- gle blast, disperses all his proud hopes; destroys, in one night, a hundred fourscore and five thousand of his forces : and putting a hook in his nose, and a bridle in his lips^* (as though he had been a wild beast,) he leads him back to his own dominions, covered with infamy, through the midst of those nations, who, but a little before, had beheld him in all his pride and haugh- tiness. Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, appears still more visibly governed by a Providence, to which he himself is an entire stranger, although it presides over all his deliberations, and determines all his actions. Being come at the hea3 of his army to two highways, the one of which led to Jerusalem, and the other to Rabbah, the chief city of the Ammonites, this king, not knowing which of them would be best for him to strike into, debates for sometime with himself, and at Ust casts lots.tt God makes the lot fall on Jerusalem, to fulfil the menaces he had pronounced against that city ; viz. to destroy it, to burn the temple, and lead its inhabitants into captivity. One would imagine, at first sight, that this king had been prompted to be- siege Tyre, merely from a political view, viz. that he might not leave behind him so powerful and well fortified a city ; nevertheless, a superior will had decreed the seij^e of Tyre.JJ God designed, on one side, to humble the pride of Ithobal its king, who fancying himself wiser than Daniel, whose fame was spread over the whole East ; and ascribing entirely to his rare and uncommon prudence the extent of his dominions, and the greamess of his riches, persuad ed himself that he was a ^od, and sat in the seat of God,^^ On the other side, he also designed to chastise the luxury, the voluptuous- ness, and the pride of those haughty merchants, who thought themselves kingi of the sea, and sovereigns over crowned heads ; and especially that inhuman joy of the Tyrians, who looked upon the fall of Jerusalem (^the rival of Tyre'i RS their own aggrandisement. These were the motives which prompted Goa bimself to lead Nebuchadnezzar to Tyre ; and to make him execute, though ♦ Ifai. r. 26, 30. x. 28, 34. xiii. 4, 5. t Sennacherib. t Isai. x. 13, 14. $ Itai x. 5. H Ibid. T. 7. IT Ibid. ver. 12. BecAut* thy raje against me, and thr turauit is come up into mine ears, therefore I will put my hook (•to thy nose, and my bridle in thy lips, and I will turn thee back by the way by which thou earnest. 5 C>iiC«, xU. 2S. Kr^l^. xxi. 19,23. Erek ««Ti, xxrii. xxviii. Esmk xxviii S U fNTRODU'v "no. N. unknowingly, his commandfe. Idcirco ecce ego addi cam ad Tyrum A'«- buchodonosor. * To recompense this monarch, whose arm^ the Almighty had causc^d to serve a great service against Tyre^ (these are God's own words ;) and to com- pensate the Babylonish troops, for the grievous toils they had sustained during a thirteen years seige : / will give, saith the Lord God, the land of Egypt unto JS''ehuchadnezzar , king of Babylon ; and he shall take her multitude^ and take her spoil, and take her prey, and it shall be the wages for his arrny.X The same Nebuchadnezzar, eager to immortalize his name by the grandeur of his exploits, was determined to heighten the glory of his conquests by his splendour and magnificence, in embellishing the capital of his empire with pompous edifices, and the most sumptuous ornaments. But while a set of adu- lating courtiers, on whom he lavished the highest honours and immense riches, make all places resound with his name, an august senate of watchful spirits is formed, who weigh, in the balance of truth," the actions of kings, and pro- nounce upon them a sentence from which there lies no appeal. The king of Babylon is cited before this tribunal, in which there presides a Supreme Judge, who, to a vigilance which nothing can elude, adds a holiness that will not allow of the least irregularity. Vigil et sanctus. In this tribunal all Ne- buchadnezzar's actions, which were the admiration and wonder of the public, are examined with rigour ; and a search is made into the inward recesses of his heart, to discover his most hidden thoughts. How will this formidable in- quiry end? At the instant that Nebuchadnezzar, walking in his pala^^e, and revolving, with a secret complacency, his exploits, his grandeur and magnifi- cence, is saying to himself. Is not mis great Babylon that I built for the house of the kingdom, by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty in this very instant, when, by vainly flattering himself that he held his power and kingdom from himself alone, he usurped the seat of the Almighty : a voice from heaven pronounces his sentence, and declares to him, that, his kingdom was departed from him, that he should be driven from men, and his dwelling be with the beasts of the field, until he knew that the Most High ruled in the king^ doms of men, and gave them to whomsoever he would, \\ This tribu'ial, which is for ever assembled, though invisible to mortal eyes, pronounced the like sentence on those famous conquerors, on those heroes of the pagan world^ who, like Nebuchadnezzar, considered themselves as the sole authors of their exalted fortune ; as independent of authority of eveiy kind, and as not holding of a superior power. As God appointed some princes to be the instruments of his vengeance, he made others the dispensers of his goodness. He ordained Cyrus to be the deliverer of his people ; and to enable him to support with dignity so glori- ous a function, he endued him with all the qualities which constitute the great- est captains and princes ; and caused that excellent education to be given him, which the heathens so much admired, though they neither knew the author Dor the true cause of it. We see in profane history the extent and swiftness of his conqu«;sts, the in- trepidity of his courage, the wisdom of his views and designs ; his greatness of soul, his noble generosity ; his truly paternal affection for his subjects ; and, in them, the grateful returns of love and tend.erness, which made them con Rider him rather as their protector and father, than as their lord and sovereign. We find, I say, all these particulars in profane history : but we do not per- ceive the secret principle of so many exalted qualities, nor the hidden spring which set them in motion. But Isaiah affords us this light, and delivers himself in words suitable to the greatness and majesty of the God who inspired him. He represents this all- powerful God of armies as leading Cyrus by the hand, marcning before him, conducting him from city to city, ana from province to province ; subduing m .11— I' I ^ 9 • This incident is rplated more nt large in the history of the Egyptians, under the reign of AmMte. t Ezek. xxix 18. 'JO. t i . 1 — 34, ' Dan. iv. 30. || Dub. W. 91^H nations before him, loosening the loins of kings, br€aki7ig in pieces gates > f brass, cutting in sunder the bars of iron, throwing down the walls and bulwarks ot cities, and putting him in possession o/* the treasures of darkness , and the hidden riches qf secret places,'^ The* prophet also tells us the cause and motive of all these events.1 It was in order to punish Babylon, and to deliver Judah, that the Almighty conducts Cjrus, step by step, and gives success to all his enterprises. 1 have raised him u J) in righteousness, and I will direct all his ways, for Jacob my servant^- sake, and Israel mine elect,l But this prince is so blind and ungrateful, that he does not know his Master, nor remember his benefactor. I have surnamed ihee, though thou hast not known me ; — / girded thee, though thou hast not known me.§ Men seldom form to themselves a right judgment of A fine irn«« C'ivitate Dei, lib. v. c. 19. % Vol. IV. p. I Thii Mr. Kollin has f'r ne admirably, in the several volume* of bis Ancient History. 21 naturally iiiti> it, Lul does not suit my purpose. My design is, in givijig a continued series of ancient history, to extract from the Greek and Latin au- thors all that 1 skall judge most useful and entertaining with respect to the transactich?, :md most instructive with regard to the reliections. I wish it A^ere possible for me to avoid the dry sterility of epitomes, which conrey no distinct idea to the mind ; and at the same time the tedious accu- racy of long histories, which tire the reader's patience. I am sensible that it is aifficult to steer exactly between the two extremes ; and although, in the two parts of history which conmience this work, 1 have retrenched a greet part of what we meet with hi ancient authors, they may still be thought too long; but I was afraid of spoiling the incidents, by being too studious of bre- vity. However, the taste of tlie public shall be my guide, to which I will cnaeavour to conform hereafter. I was so happy as not to displease th^e public in my first attempt.* I wisi* the present work may be equally successful, but dare not raise my hopes so high. The subjects I there treated, tji>. polite literature, poetry, eloquence, and curious pieces of history, gave me ^n opportunity of introducing into it, from ancient and modern authors, whatever is most beautiful, affecting, deli- cate, and just, with regard both to thought and expression. The beauty and justness of the things themselves which I offered the reader, made him more mdulgent to the mariner in which they were presented to him ; and besides, the variety of the subjects supplied the want of those graces w^hich might have been expected from the style and composition. But I have not the same advantage in the present work, the choice of the subjects not being entirely at my discretion. In a series of history, an author is often obliged to introduce a great many things that are not always ve- ry interesting, especially with regard to the origin and rise of empires; these parts are gerferally overrun with thorns, and otfer very few tlowers. However, the sequel furnishes matter of a more pleasing nature, and events that engage more strongly the reader's attention ; and I shall take care to make use of whatever is most valuable in the best authors. In the mean time, I must intreat the reader to remember, that in a widely extended and beauti- ful region, the eye does not every where meet with golden harvests, smiling meads, and fruitful orchards ; but sees, at different intervals, wild and less cultivated tracts of land. And to use another comparison after Pliny, tsome trees in the spring emulously shoot forth a numberless multitude of blossoms, which, by this rich dress, (the splendour and vivacity of whose colours chann the eye,) proclaim a happy abundance in a more advanced season ; while other treeSjJ of a less gay and florid kind, though they bear good fruits, have not, however, the fragrance and beauty of blossoms, nor seem to share in the joy of reviving nature. The reader will easily apply this image to the com position of history. To adorn and enrich my own, I will be so ingenuous as to conless, that I do not scruple, nor am ashamed, to rifle wherever I coiiie ; and that I often do not cite the authors from whom I transcribe, because of the liberty I take to make some slight alterations. I have made the best use in my power of the solid reflections that occur in the second and third parts ol the Bi.shop of MesLUX^s^ Universal History, which is one of the most beautifiil and mo«t usetul books in our language. 1 have also received great assistance trom the, learned Dean Prideaux's Connexion of the Old and Aetw Testament^ in which he has traced and cleared up, in an admirable manner, the particulars relating * The method of teaching and studying the Belles Lettres, &c. The English translation (in four vol- oi»e«) of this excellent piece of criticism, has gone through several editions. t Arborum flos, est pleni veris indicium, et anni renascentis flos gaudium ar-bortiin. Ttmc se novas, air ■aque quam sunt, ostendunt, tunc varils colorum picturis in certamen usque luxuriant. Sed hoc negatv;a plerisque. Noa enim omnes florent, et sunt tristes quasdam, quasque non sentiant gaudia annorum ; ns. idk flare exkilarantur, natnlcsve pcmorum recursus annuoi versicolori nuncio promiltuti*. — Plio. Nat. Hit* } mvi. «. 36. f2 INTRODUCIXOIV. to ancient histoiy. I shall take the same libert3r with whate% er comet in way that may suit my design, and contribute to its perfection. 1 am veiy sensible, that it is not so much for aperson^s reputation thus to make use of other men'? lal)ouis,and that it is in a manner renouncing the name and quality of author. But I am not over- fond of that title, and shall be extremely well pleased, and thmk myself veiy happj^, if I can but deserve the name of a good compiler, and supply my readers with a tolerable history, who not be over-solicitous to inquire what hand it comes from, provided they are pleased with it. Students, with a veiy moderate application, may easily go through this course of history in a year, without interrupting their other studies. Accord- ing to my plan, my work should be given to the highest form but one. Youth? ID this class are capable of pleasure and improvement from this history ; and I would not have them enter upon that of the Romans, till they study rhetoric. It would have been useful, and even necessary, to have given some idea of the ancient authors from whom I have extracted the following materials. But the course itself of the history will show this, and naturally give me an oppor- tunity of producing them, »uvill. He accord- ingly was so gracious as to reveal himself to them ; to conduct them by apparitions, dreams, oracles, and prophecies ; and to protect them by miracles of the most astonishing kind. But those who were so blind as to substitute falsehood in the place of tmth, directed themselves, for the like aid, to fictitious and deceitful deities, who were not able to answer their expectations, nor recompense the homage that mortals paid them,in any other way thanby error and illusion, and a fraudulent imitation of the conduct of the true God. Hence arose the vain observation of dreams, which, from a superstitious cre- dulity, they mistook for salutary warnings from heaven ; those obscure and equivocal answers of oracles, beneath whose veil the spirits of darkness con- cealed their ignorance ; and, by a studied ambiguity reserved to themselves an evasion or subterfuge, whatever might be the issue of the event. To this are owing the prognostics, with regard to futurity, which men fancied they should find in the entrails of beasts, in the flight and singing of birds, in the as- pect of the planets, in fortuitous accidents, and in the caprice of chance ; those dreadful prodigies that filled a whole nation with terror, and which, it was believed, nothing could expiate but mournful ceremonies, and even sometimes the effusion of human blood ; in fine, those black inventions of magic, those delusions, enchantments, sorceries, invocations of ghosts, and many other kinds of divination. All I have here related was a received usage, observed by the heathen na- tions in general ; and this usage was founded on the principles of that religion of which I have given a short account. We have a signal proof of this in the Cyropydia,* where Cambyses, the father of Cyrus, gives that young prince such noble instructions, instructions admirably well adapted to form the great captain, and great prince. He exhorts him above all things, to pay the high- est reverence to the gods ; and :iot to undertake any enterprise, whether im- portant or inconsiderable, without first calling upon and consulting them ; he enjoins him to honour priests and augurs, as being their ministers, and the in- terpreters of their will ; but yet not to trust or abandon himself implicitly and blindly to them, till he had first learnt every thing relating to the science of di- vination, of auguries and auspices. The reason he gives for the subordination and dependence in which kings ought to live with regard to the gods, and the necessity they are under of consulting them in all things, is this • how clear lighted soever mankind may be in the ordinary course of affairs, their views we always very narrow and limited with regard to futurity; whereas the • Xaaoph. io Cyrop. 1 I p. 25. Tl «4 OJTRODUCTIOX Deity, at a single glance,, takes in all ages and events. As th^ gods," say Cambjses to his son, are eternal, they know equally al /shings, past, present, and to come." "With regard to the mortals who address them, they give salutary counsels to those whom they are pleased to favour, that they may not be ignorant of what things they ought, 6y ough-t not, to undertake. If it is observed, that the de»*^es do not give the like counsels to all men, we arc not to wonder at it, since no necessity obliges them to attend to the weJfare of those persons on whom they do not vouchsafe to confer their favour." Such was the doctrine of the most learned and most enlightened nations, with respect to the different kinds of divination ; and it is no wonder that the authors who wrote the histoiy of those nations, thought it incumbent on them to give an exact detail of such particulars as constituted part of their religion and worship, and was frequently in a manner the soul of their deliberation, and the standard of their conduct. 1 therefore was of opinion, for the same reason, that it would not be proper for me to omit entirely, in the ensuing history, what relates to this subject, though I have, however, retrenched a great part of it. Archbishop Usher is my usual guide in chronology. In the history of the Carthaginians, I commonly set down four eras : the year from the creation of the world, which, for brevity's sake, I mark thus, A. M. ; those of the founda- tion of Carthage and Rome ; and lastly, the year that precedes the birth of our Saviour, vvnich I suppose to be the 4004th of the world ; wherein I follow Usher and others, though they suppose it to be four years earlier. To know in what manner the states and kingdoms were founded, that have divided the universe ; the steps whereby they arose to that pitch of grandeur related in history ; by what ties families and cities were united, in order to constitute one body or society, and to live together under the same laws and a common authority ; it will be necessaiy to trace things back, in a manner, to the infancy of the world, and to those ages, in which mankind, being dispers ed into diife rent regions, (after the confusion of tongues,) began to people the earth. In these early ages, every father was the supreme head of his family; the arbiter and judge of whatever contests and divisions might arise within it ; the natural legislator over his little society ; the defender and protector of those who, by their birth, education, and weakness, were under his protection and safeguard. But although these masters enjoyed an independent authority, they made a mild and paternal use of it. So far from being jealous of tlieir power, they neither governed with haughtiness, nor decided with tyranny. As they were obliged by necessity to associate their family in their domestic labours, they also summoned them together, and asked their opinion in matters of importance. In this manner all affairs were transacted in concert, and for the common good. The laws which paternal vigilance established in this little dome^jtic senate, being dictated with no other view than to promote the general welfare, con- certed with such children as were come to years of maturity, and accepted by the inferiors with a full and free consent, were religiously kept and preserv- ed in families, as an hereditary polity, to which they owed their peace and security. But different motives gave rife to different laws. One man, overjoyed at the birth of a tirst-born son, resolved to distinguish him from his future children, by bestowing on him a more considerable share of his possessions, and giving hira a greater authority in his family. Another, more attentive to the interest of a beloved wife, or darling daughter, whom he wanted to settle in the world, thought it incumbent on him to secure their rights and increase their advantages. The solitary and cheerless state to which a wife would be reduced, in case she should become a widow, affected more intimately another man, and made him provide beforehand for the subsistence and comfort of a woman who formed his felicity. INTRODUCTION In proportion as every family increased, by the birth of ch.Mren, atnl their marrying into oth ir faniilies, they extended their little domain, and formed, by insensible degrees, towns and cities. From these different views, and others oi the like nature, arose the peculiar customs of nations, as well as their rights, which are infinitely various These ^Q.-ieties, growing in process of time very nunrierous, and the families being divided mio several branches, each of which had its head, whose dilTercnf interests and characters might interrupt the general tranquillity ; it was neces- sary to intrust cne person with the government of the wiiole, in order to unite all these chiefs or heads under a sinerle authority, and to maintain the public peace by a uniform administration. The idea which men still retained of lh« paternal government, and the happy effects they had experienced from it, prompted them to choose from among their wisest and most virtuous men, him mwhom they had observed the most tender and fatherly disposition. Nei- ther ambition nor cabal had the least share in this choice ; probity alone, and the reputation of virtue and equity, decided on these occasions, and gave the preference to the most worthy.* To heighten the lustre of their newly acquired dignity, and enable them the better to put the laws in execution, as well as to devote themselves entirely to the public good, to defend the state against the invasions of their neighbours, and the Factions of discontented citizens, the title of king was bestoued upon them, a throne was erected, and a sceptre put into their hands ; homage was paid them, of?icers were assigned, and guards appointed for the security of their peisons ; tributes w«re granted ; they were invested with full powers to administer justice, and for this purpose were armed with a sword, in order to restrain injustice, and punish crimes. At first, every city had its particular king, who, being more solicitous to pre- serve his dominion than to enlarge it, confined his ambition within the limits of his native country.! But the almost unavoidable feuds which break out be- tween neighbours, jealousy against a more powerful king, the turbulent and restless spirit of a prince, his martial disposition, or thirst of aggrandizing him- self, and displaying his abilities, gave rise to wars which frequently ended in the entire subjection of the vanquished, whose cities were by that means pos- sessed by the victor, aixl insensibly increased his dominions. Thus, a first victory paving a way to a second, and making a prince more pow^erful and enterprising, several cities and provinces were united under one monarch, and formed kingdoms of a greater or less extent, according to the degree of ardour with which the victor had pushed his conquests. J The ambition of some of^ these princes being too vast to confine itself within a single kingdom, it broke over all bounds, and spread universally like a tor- rent, or the ocean ; swallow^ed up kingdoms and nations ; and gloried in de- priving princes of their dominions who had not done them the least injury ; in carrying fire and sword into the most remote countries, and in leaving, every where, bk)()dy traces of their progress ! Such was the origin of these famous empires which included a great part of th world. Princes made various uses of victory, according to the diversity of their dis* positions or interests. Some considering themselves as absolute masters of the conquered, and imagining they were sufficiently indulgent in sparing their lives, bereaved them as well as their children, of their possessions, their country, anU their liberty ; subjected them to a most severe captivity ; employed them in those arts which are necessary for the support of life, in the lowest and most servile offices of the house, in the painful toils of the held; and fre- quently forced them, by the most inhuman treatment, to dig in mines, and ran- * Q,uos^d fastigium hujus majestatig non ambitio popularia, sed spectata inter bonos moderatio proir»b#. bat. — Justin. 1. i. c. 1. t Fines imperii tueri magis quam proferre a>!>8 erat , Inti*a suam cuiqtie patrinra rcgna finiebaot«f^' Jofltin. 1. i. c. 1. t J^'>miti8 proximis, cum aro'-^'irn" viruMn ri.|-M.-»r t>^. s|"ri<; t'-p nt-ifpt, ff prAxinir* q'ti*»'^tl« Tioloria i!\»rp> 20. INTRODUCTION sack the bowels of the earth, merely to satiate their avarice : and hence maD kind were divided into freemen and slaves, masters and bonaraen. Others introduced the custom of transporting whole nations into new coun* tries, where they settled them, and gave them lands to cultivate. Other princes, ag-ain, of more gentle dispositions, contented themselves with only obliging the vanquished nations to purchase their liberties, and the enjoy- ment of their Jaws and privileges, by annual tributes laid on them for that purpose ; and sometimes they would suffer kings to sit peaceably on theii thrones, upon condition of their paying them some kind of homage. But such of these monarchs as were the wisest and ablest politicians, thought st glorious to establish a kind of equality betweenthe nations newly conquered and their other subjects, granting the former almost all the rights and privi leges which the others enjoyed. And by this means a great number of na- tions, that were spread over different ana far distant countries, constituted, in some measure, but one city, at least but one people. Thus I have given a general and concise idea of mankind, from the earliest monuments which history has preserved on this subject, the particulars whereof I shall endeavour to relate, in treating of each empire and nation. I shall not touch upon the history of the Jews nor that of the Romans. I begin with the Egyptians and Carthaginians, because the former are of very great anti' quity, and as the history of both is less bl-ended with that of other nations ; whereas those of other states are more interwoven, and sometimes succeed one another. REFLECTIONS ON THE DIFFERENT SORTS OF GOVERNMENTS. The multiplicity of governments established among the different nations ot whom I am to treat, exhibits, at first view, to the eye and to the understand- ing, a spectacle highly worthy our attention, and shows the astonishing variety which the sovereign of the world has constituted in the empu'ps that divide it, by the diversity of inclinations and manners observable in each of those na- tions. We herein perceive the characteristic of the Deity, who, ever resem- blmg himself in all the works of his creation, takes a pleasure to paint and display therein, under a thousand shapes, an infinite wisdom, by a wonderful fertility, and an admirable simplicity : a wisdom that can form a single work, and compose a whole, perfectly regular, from all the different parts of the universe, and all the productions of nature, notwithstanding the infinite man- ner in which they are multiplied and diversified. In the East, the form of government that prevails is the monarchical ; which being attended with a majestic pomp, and a haughtiness almost inseparable from supreme authority, naturally tends to exact a more distinguished respect, and a more entire submission, from those in subjection to its power. When we consider Greece, one would be apt to conclude, that liberty and a repub- lican spirit had breathed themselves into every part of that country, and had inspired almost all the different people who inhabited it with a violent desire of independence ; diversified, however, under various kinds of government, but all equally abhorrent of subjection and slavery. In one part of Greece the supreme power is lodged in the people, and is what we call a democracy ; in another, it is vested in the assembly of wise men, and those advanced is years, to which the name aristocracy is given ; in a third republic, the go- vernment is lodged in a small number of select and powerful persons and is called oligarchy ; in others, again, it is a mixture of all these parts, or of seve- ral of them, and sometimes even of regal power. It is manifest, that this variety of governments, which all tend to the same point, though by different ways, contributes veiy much to the beauty of the universe ; and that it can proceed from no other being than Him who governs it with infinite wisdom, and who diffuses universally an order and symmetiy, the effect of which is to unite the several parts together, and by that means to Ibrm one work of the u hole. For although in tin's diversity of government*^, INTRODUCTION. '21 some are better than others, we nevertheless may very Justly affirm, that there %$ no power but of God; and that the powers that be are ordained of God* But neither every use that is made of this pov^er, nor eveiT means for iht attainment of it, are from God, though every power be of him : and wher. we see these governments degenerating sometimes to violence, factions, des- potic sway, and tyranny, it is wholly to the passions of mankind that, we mu») iscribe those irregularities, which are directly opposite to the primitive inst) •ution of states, and which a superior wisdom afterward reduces to order ilwavs making them contribute to the execution of his designs, full of equity tndfustice. Tliis scene or spectacle, as I before observed, highly deserves our atten- tion and admiration, and will display itself gradually, in proportion as I ad- vance in relating the anoient history, of which it seems to me to form an essential part. It is with the view of making the reader attentive to this ob ject, that I think it incumbent on me to add to the account of facts and events, what regards the manners and customs of nations ; because these show their genius and character, which we may call, in some measure, the soul of history. For to take notice only of eras and events, and confine our curiosity and re- searches to them, would be imitating the imprudence of a traveller, who, in visiting many countries, should content himself- with knowing their exact dis- tance irom each other, and consider only the situation of the several places, the manner of building, and the dresses of the people, without giving himself the least trouble to converse with the inhabitants, in order to inform himself of their genius, manners, disposition, laws, and governments. Homer, whose design was to give, in the person of Ulysses, a model of a wise and intelligent travel- ler, tells us, at the very opening of his Odyssey, that his hero informed himself very exactly of the manners and customs of the several people whose cities he visited ; in which he ought to be imitated by every person who applies himself to the study of history. A GEOGAAPHICAL DESCRIPTION OF ASIA. As Asia will hereafter be the principal scene of the hish^ry we are now enter- ing upon, it may not be improper to give the reader such a general idea of it, 4S may communicate somti knowledge of its most considerable provinces and cities. The northern and eastern parts of Asia are less known in ancient history. To the north are Asiatic Sarmatia and Asiatic Scythia, which answer to Tartary. Sarmatia is situated between the riveTTanais, which divides Europe and Asia, and the river Kha or Volga, Scythia is divided into two parts ; the one on Sidon, and Beryius, Its mountains, Liha7ius aiud Anti-Ldbanus, 3. Syria, properly so called, or Antiochena ; the cities whereof are, AtUi-^ ochta, Apamia, Laodicea, and Seleucia, 4. CoMAGENA. The city of Samosata. 5. CcELosYRiA^ The cities are, Zeugma, Thapsacus, Palmyra, and Dama$* €US. V Arabia Petrjea. Its cities are, Petra and Bostra. Mount Casttt*^ Deserta. Felix. of religion. It is observable, that in all ages and regions, the several nations of the world ; however various and opposite in their characters, inclinations, and manners, have always united in one essential point ; the inherent opinion of an adoration due to a supreme Being, and of external methods necessary to evince such a be- lief. Into whatever countiy we cast our eyes, we find priests, altars, sacrifices, festivals, religious ceremonies, temples, or places consecrated to religious wor- ship. In every people we discover a reverence and awe of the divinity ; a ho- mage and honour paid to him ; and an open profession oi an entire dependence upon him in all their undertakings and necessities, in all their adversities and langers. Incapable of themselves to penetrate futurity, and to ascertain events in their own favour, we find them intent upon consulting the divinity by oracles, and by other methods of a like nature ; and to merit his protection by prayers, vows, and offerings. It is by the same supreme authority they believe the most solemn treaties are rendered inviolable. It is this that gives sanction to their oaths ; and, to it by imprecations is referred the punishment of such crimes and enormities as escape the knowledge and power of men. On their private occasions, voyages, journeys, marriages, diseases, the divinity is stil invoked. With him their every repast begins and ends. No war is declared, no battle fought, no enterprise formed, without his aid being first implored ; to which the glory of the success is constantly ascribed by public acts of thanks - giving, and by the oblation of the most precious of the spoils, which they never fail to set apart as the indispensable right of the divinity. They never vary in regard to the foundation of this belief. If some fe w per- sons, depraved by false philosophy, presume from time to time to rise up s^ainst this doctrine, they are immediately disclaimed by the public voice. They continue singular and alone, without making parties, or forming sects ; the whole weight of the public authority falls upon them ; a price is set upon their heads ; while they are universally regarded as execrable persons, the bane of civil society, with whom it is criminal to have any kind of commerce. So general, so uniform, so perpetual a consent of all the nations of the uni- verse, which neither the prejudice of th^ passions, the false reasoning of some philosophers, nor the authority and example of certain princes, have ever been able to weaken or vary, can proceed only from a first principle, which pervades the nature of man ; from an inherent sense implanted in his heart by the Au thor of his being, and from an original tradition as ancient as the world itself Such were the source and origin of the religion of the ancients ; truly worthy of man, had he been capable of persisting in the purity and simplicity of these first principles : but the errors of the mind and the vices of the heart, those sad effects of the corruption of human nature, have strangely dis.figured fheir original beauty. There are still some faint rays, some brilliant sparks of light, which a general depravity has not been able utterly; to extinguish ; but they ape incapable of dispelling the profound darkness of the gloom which prevails almost universally, and presents nothing to view but absurdities, follies, ex- travagancies; licentiousness, ani disorder; in a word, a hideous chaos of frantic excesses nnd rnornujiis vices. so INTRODUCTION. Can any thing be more admirable than these maxims of Cicero?* That w (Night abore all things to be convinced that there is a Supreme Being, who f ^'resides over all the events of the world, and disposes of them as sovereign ord and arbiter : that it is to him mankind are indebted for all the good they en- joy : that he penetrates into, and is conscious of whatever passes in the most secret recesses of our hearts : that he treats the just and the impious according to their respective merits ; that the true means of acquiring his favour, and of being pleasing in his sight, is net by the use of riches and^agnificence in his worsb'p, but by presenting him with a heart pure and blameless, and by adoring him with an unfeigned and profound veneration. Sentiments so sublime and religious, were the result of the reflections of the few who employed themselves in the stu iy of the heart of man, and in tracing him to the first principles of his institution, of which they still retained some happy, though imperfect ideas. But the whole system of their religion, the tendency of th'^ir public feasts and ceremonies, the soul of the pagan theology, of which the poets were the only teachers and professors; the very example of the gods, whose violent passions, scandalous adventures, and abominable crimes w-!re celebrated in their hymns or odes, and proposed in some measure for the •! ? • i- ion, as well as adoration of the people ; these were certainly very unfit w Jiis to enlighten the minds of men, and to form them to virtue and mo- rality. It is remarkable, that in the greatest solemnities of the pagan religion, and in their most sacred and revered mysteries, far from perceiving any thing to recommend virtue, piety, or the practice of the most essential duties of or- dinary life ; we find the authority of laws, the imperious power of custom, the presence of magistrates, the assembly of all orders of the state, the exam- ple of fathers and mothers, all conspire to train up a whole nation from their infancy in an impure and sacrilegious worship, under the name, and in a man- ner under the sanction, of religion itself : as we shall soon see in the sequel. After these general reflections upon paganism, it is time to proceed to a par- fkular account of the religion of the Greeks. I shall reduce this subject, though infinity in itself, to tour articles, which are, 1. The feasts. 2. The ora- cles, auguries, and divinations. 3. The games and combats. 4. The public shows and representations of the theatre. In each of these articles, I shall treat only of what appears most worthy of the reader's curiosity, and has ra(»st relation to thii history. I omit saying any thing of sacrifices, having given a sufficient idea of them eleswhere.t OF THE FEASTS. An infinite number of feasts were celebrated in the several cities of Greece, and especially at Athens, of which I shall only describe three of the most fa- mous ; the Panathenea, the feasts of Bacchus, and those of Eleusis. THE PANATHENEA. This feast was celebrated at Athens in honour of Minerva, the tutelary god- dess of that city, to which she gave her name,]; as well as to the feast we speak of. Its institution was ancient, and it was called at first Athenea ; but after Theseus had united the several towns of Attica into one city, it took the name of Panathenea. These feasts were of two kinds, the great and the less, which were solemnized with almost tlie same ceremonies ; the less annually, and the great upon the expiration of every fourth year. In these feasts were exhibited racing, the gymnastic combats, and the con- tentions for the prizes of music and poetry. Ten commissaries, elected from * Sit hoc jam a principio persuasum civibijs : domlnos esse omnium rerum ac moderatores decs, eaque quae g-P;ruutnr eorum geri judicio ac numine ; eosdemque optime de g-enere bomioum mereri; et, qualil quisqne sit, quid a^?' quid in se admittal, qua inente, qua piotate religiones colat, intueri: pioruna^ue et wnpiorum habere rationem. Ad divos adeunto caste. Pietatem adhibento, opes amoveuto.— CiC. 4« Leg. 1. ii. n. 15 et 19. f Maaoer Tsach'mjj, &c. Vol. I t ASnvn. L\Tii;;Di;C'J'}ON 3i be ten tribes, presided on this occasion, to regulate the forms, and distribute the rewards to the victors. This festival continued several days. The first day in the morning:, a race was run on foot, each of the runners car- rying a lighted torch in his hand, which they exchanged continually with each other without interrupting their race. They started from Ceramicus, one ot the suburbs of Athens, and crossed the whole city. The first that came to the goal, without having put out his torch, carried the prize. In the afternoon, they ran the same course on horseback. The gymnastic or athletic combats followed the races. The place of thot exercise was upon the banks of the liissus, a small river, which runs througl) Athens, and empties itself into the sea at the Piraeus. Pericles first instituted the prize of music. In this dispute were sung the praises of Harmodius and Aristogiton, who, at the expense of their lives, de livered Athens from the tyranny of the Pisistratides , ^o which was afterwarda added the eulogy of Thrasybulus, who expelled the thirty tyrants. These disputes were not only warm among the musicians, but much more so among the poets, and it was highly glorious to be declared ^jctor in them. ^schy« lus is reported to have died with grief upon seeing the prize adjudged to So- phocles, who was much younger than himself. These exercises were followed by a general procession, wherein a sail ^vas carried with great pomp and ceremony, on which were curiously dekncated the warlike actions of Pallas against the Titans and giants. This sail was affixed to a vessel, which was called by the name of the goddess. The ves- sel, equipped with sails, and with a thousand oars, was conducted from Ciram- icus to the temple of Eleusis, not by horses or beasts of draught, but by ma- chines concealed in the bottom of it, which put the oars in motion, and made the vessel glide along. The march was solemn and majestic. At the head of it were old men, who carried olive branches in their hands, ^a\k:(p'ooi ; and these were chosen for the symmetry of their shape, and the vigour of their complexion. Athenian ma- trons, of great age, also accompanied them in the same eauipage. The grown and robust men formed the second class. They were armed at all points, and had bucklers and lances. After them came the strangers who mhabited Athens, carrying mattocks, with other instruments proper fortilloge. Next followed the Athenian women of die same age, attended by the foreign ers of their own sex, carrying vessels in their hands for the drawing of water The third class was composed of the young persons of both sexes, and < ' the best families in the city. The youth wore vests, with crowns upon th<^ heads, and sang a p»eculiar hymn in honour of the goddess. The maids cai ried baskets, in which were placed the sacred utensils proper for the cerem.o ny, covered ^^tjk veils to keep them from the sight of the spectators. The person, to whoWcare those sacred things were intrusted, was bound to observe a strict continence for several dd.js before he touched them, or distributed them to the Athenian virgins or rather, as Demosthenes says, his Avhole life and conduct ought to have been a perfect model of virtue and purity. It wa? a high honour for a young woman to be chosen for so noble and august an office, and an insupportable affront to be deemed unworthy of it. We find ths- Hipparchus treated the sister of Hanriodius with this indignity, which ex tremely incensed the conspirators against the Pisistratides. These Athenian virgins were followed by the foreign young women, who carried umbrellas aiid seats for them. The children of both sexes closed the pomp of the procession. In this august ceremony, the pcx^4^a:5ci were appointed to sing certain verses ot Homer ; a manifest proof of their estimation of the works of that poet, even with regard to religion. Hipparchus, son of Pisistratus, first introduced this custom. tetreina Aristofratin. I have observed elsewhere, tiiat in the gymnastic games of th'.4 feast, a he- rald proclaimed, that the people of Athens had conferred a crown of gold upon the celebrated physician Hippocrates, ingratitude for the signal services which he had rendered the state during the pestilence. In this festival, the people of Athens put themselves, and the whole repub- lic, under the protection of Minerva, the tutelary goddess of their city, and implored of her all kinds of prosperity. From the battle of Marathon, in these public acts of worship, express mention was made of the Platseans, and they were joined in all things with the people of Athens. FEASTS OF BACCHUS. The worship of Bacchus had been brought out of Egypt to Athens, where several feasts had been established in honour of that god ; two particularly more remarkable than all the rest, called the great and the less feast*^ of Bac- chus. The latter were a kind of preparation for the former, and were cele* brated in the open lield about autumn. They were named Lenea, from a Greek word that signifies a wine-press.* The great feasts were commonly called Dionysia, from one of the n imes of that god,t and were solemnized in the spring, within the city. In each of these feasts the public were entertained with games, shows, and dramatic representations, v/liich were attended with a vast concourse of peo- ple, and exceeding magnificence, as will be seen hereafter : at the same time the poets disp^t^d the prize of poetry, submitting to the judgment of arbi- trators, expressly chosen, their pieces, Avhether tragic or comic, which were ihen represented 1 efore the people. These feasts continued many days. Those who wwe initiated, minrjcked whatever the poe*s had thought fit to feign of the god Bacchus. 7 iiey co- vered themselves \A i(h the skins of w^ild beasts, carried a thyrsus in their hands, a kind of pike with ivy leaves twisted round it. They had drums, horns, pipes, and other instnjments proper to make a great noise ; and wore upon their heads wreaths of ivy and vine-branches, and of other trees sacred to Bacchus. Some represented Silenus, some Pan. others the Satyrs, all dressed in a suitable masquerade. "Many of them were mounted on asses ; others dragged goats along, for sacrifices. J Men and wo- men, ridiculously transformed in this manner, appeared night and day in pub- h*c, and imitating drunkeDness, and dancing with the most indecent postures, ran in throngs about the mountains and forests, screaming and howling furi ously ; the^ vvomen especially seemed more outrageous than the men, and, ijuite out of their senses, m their furious transports,^ invoked the god whose ieast they celebrated with loud cries ; £u.>r Bixxs. or w 'idxxf. or IdSaxxfi or This troop of Bacchanalians w^as followed by the virgins^lRhe noblest fa- milies m the city, who were called Havi^qjcjoi, from cariying^ baskets on their heads covered with vine and ivy leaves. ^4 ' To these ceremonies others were added, obscene to the last excess, and worthy of the god who could be honoured in such a manner. The specta- Yjrs gave into the })revailing humour, and were seized w^ith the sam.e frantic spirit. Nothing was seen but dancing, drunkenness, debauchery, and all that liie most abandoned licentiousness could conceive of gross and abominable And this an entire people, reputed the wisest of all Greece, not only suffered, but admired and practised. 1 say an entire people ; for Plato, speaking ol the Bacchanals, says in direct terma, that he had seen the whole ciiy- of Athens drunk at oiice.H Livy informs us, that this licentiousness of the Bacchanalian! having secretly * A"nv6f. t I^ionysius. X (^^ouls were sacrlficedl, because they spoiled the vises. ^ From thJS fury of the Bacchanalians, these ft^asts were Gislinguished by the name of Orgia, 'O^yt- ■R, furor. y rittfrav iSfacTttUTiv Tr>v 7roX.iv wtg] ret Airv'jcria n^Ouxaav — F/ib. 1. ds I eg. p. 637. INTRODUCTION. 13 crept into Rome, the most horrid disorders were commiuea mere under the cover of the night; besides which, persons, who were initiated into these impure and abominable masteries, were obliged, under the most horrid impre cations, to keep them inviolably secret. The senate, being apprised of the affair, put a stop to those sacrilegious feasts by the most severe penalties ; and 6rst ba-nished the practisers of them from Rome, and afterwards from Italy.* These examples inform us, how far a mistaken sense of religion, that covers the greatest crimes with the sacred name of the Divinity, is capable of mis- leading the mind of nian.t THE FEASTS OF EL^IUSIS. Theue js nothing in all the pagan antiquity more celebrated than the feast of Ceres Eleusina. The ceremonies of this festival were called, by way of eminence, the Mysteries, from being, according to Pausanias, as much above all others as the gods are above men. Their origin and institution are attribu- ted to Ceres herself, who, in the reign of Erechtheus, coming to Eleusis, a small town of Attica, in search of her daughter Proserpine, whom Pluto had carried away, and finding the country afflicted with a famine, invented corn as a remedy for that evil, with which she rewarded the inhabitants. She not only taught them the use of corn, but instructed them in the principles of probity, charity, civilitj^, and humanity ; from whence her mysteries were called ^fcrptocpojia and Initia. To these first happy lessons, fabuPous antiquity ascribed the courtesy, politeness, and urbanity, so remarkable among tlie Athenians.]: These mysteries were divided into the less and the greater, of which the former served as a preparation for the latter. The less was solemnized in the month Anthesterion, which answers to our November : the great in the month Boed-romion, or August. Only Athenians were admitted to these mysteries ; but of them each sex, age, and condition, had a right to be re- ceived. All strangers were absolutely excluded, so that Hercules, Castor, and Pollux, were obliged to be adopted as Athenians, in order to their admis- sion ; which however extended only to the lesser mysteries. I shall consider principally the great, which were celebrated at Eleusis. Those who demanded to be initiated into them, were obliged, before their reception, to purify them.selves in the lesser mysteries, by bathing in the river Ilissus, by saying certain prayers, offering sacrifices, and, above all, by living in strict continence during an interval oi time prescribed them. That time was em})loyed in instructing them in the principles and elements of the sacred doctrine of the great mysteries. When the time for their initiation arrived, they were brought into the tem- ple ; and to inspire the greater reverence and terror, the ceremony was per- lormed in the night. Wonderful things passed upon this occasion. Visions were seen, and voices heard of an extraordinary kind. A sudden splendour dispelled the darkness of the place, and disappearing immediately, added new horrors to the gloom. Apparitions, claps of thunder, earthquakes, height- ened the terror and amazement ; while the person admitted, stupified, and sweating through fear, heard trembling the mysterious volumes read to him, if in such a condition he was capable of hearing at all. These nocturnal ritei were atie;*kaed with many disorders, which the severe law of silence, imposed * Lir. I. xxxix. n. 8, 18. I Nihilinspeciem fallaciuB eat quam prava religio, ubi deorum numen praetenditur scelenbns.— Lit, xrxix. n. 16. i Multa eximia divinaque vldentur Athenae tuas peperiase, atque in vitam hominum attulisse ; turn ni) il melius illis mysterils, quibus ex agresli immanique vita exculti ad huinanitatum et mitigati sumus, initiaq -ie ut appeliantur, ita revera principia vitae cog-novimus. — Cic. 1. ii. de Leg. n. 36. Teque Ceres, et Libera, qut^rum sacra, sicut opiniones hominum ac religiones ferunt, longe maximis atqtM occuLis^imis ceremoniis continentur : a quibus initia vitas atque victus, legum, morum, mansuetudiniB, h» manitatis exenavla hcminibus, et civitalibus data ac dispertata esse dicuntur. — Id. Cie. in Verr- d« Ssai^ vile. n. 186 ' Vol I. 34 INTRODUCTION. on ine person iniiiated, prevented from coming to light, as St. Gregory Nazi anzen observes.* What cannot superstition effect upon the mind of man, when once his imag-ination is heated ! The president in this ceremony was called hi- erophantes. He wore a peculiar habit, and was not permitted to marry. The first who served in this function, and whom Ceres herself instructed, was Eu- molpus ; from whom his successors were called EuiTiolpides. He had thre<» colleagues ; one who carried a torch ;t another a herald, whose office was 1o pronounce certain mysterious words and a third to attend at the altar. Besides these officers one of the principal magistrates of the city was ap- |>ointed, to take c-pre that all the ceremonies of this feast were exactly observed* He was called the king, and was one of the nine Archons.§ His business was to offer prayers and sacrifices. The people gave him four assistants, ||onc chosen from the family of the Eumolpides, a second from that of the Ceryces, and the two last from two other families. He had, besides, ten other ministers to assist him in the discharge of his duty, and particularly in offering sacrifi- ces, from whence they derive their name.ff The Athenians initiated their children of both sexes very early into these mysteries, and would have thought it criminal to let them die without such an advantage. It was their general opinion, that this ceremony was an en- gagement to lead a more virtuous and regular life ; that it recommended them to the peculiar protection of the goddess to whose service they devoted themselves, and was the means of a more perfect and certain happiness in the other world : while, on the contrary, such as had not been initiated, besides the evils they had to apprehend in this life, were doomed, after their descent to the shades below, to wallow eternally in dirt, filth, and excrement. **Dio- genes the Cynic believed nothing of the matter, and when his friends endeav- oured to persuade him to avoid such a misfortune, by being initiated before his death — " What," said he, "shall Agesilaus and Epaminondas lie among mud and dung, while the vilest Athenians, because they have been initiated, possess the most distinguished places in the regions of the blessed ?" Socrates was not more credulous ; he would not be initiated into these mysteries, which was perhaps one cause of rendering his religion suspected. Without this qualification, none were admitted to enter the temple of Ceres ; and Livy informs us of two Acarnanians, who, having followed the crowd into it upon one of the feast-days, although out of mistake and with no ill design, were both put to death without mercy. It It was also a capital crime to divulge the secrets and mysteries of Ibis feast. Upon this account Diago- ras the Melian was proscribed, and had a reward set upon his head. He in- tended to have made the secret cost the poet iEschylus his life, for speaking too freely of it in some of his tragedies. The disgrace of Alcibiades pro- ceeded from the same cause. Whoever had violated the secret was avoid- ed as a wretch accursed and excoinmunicated.JJ Pausanias, in several pas- sages, wherein he mentions the temple of Eleusis, and the ceremonies practised there, stops short, and declares he canno'. proceed, because he had been for- bidden by a dream or vision. §§ ^ This feast, the most celebrated of profane antiquity, was of nine days con- tinuance. It began on the fifteenth of the month Boedromion. After some |)reTious ceremonies and sacrifices on the first three days, upon the fourth in tike evening began the procession of the Basket ; which was laid upon an open * Ol5f V EXa;j-!* TaDra, »al of twv (7JC07ru|Xivcov xai (riwirfij ^vtwv d^^icbv tTrdTrras. — Orat. de Sacr. Lumi* Dio^en. Laert. 1. ri. p. 389. \\ ibir. 1. xxxi. n. 14. XX Esl et fideli tuta silentio Safe in the silent tongue, Trhlch none can blaoMi Merces. Vetabo, qui Cereris sacrum The faithful secret merit fame : , "'ul^arit arcana, sub iisdem Beneath one roof ne'er let him rest with mt. Sit Trablbus, fragilemque mecam Who Ceres' mysteries reveals; 8«Iriit phaselum. In one frail bark ne'er let us put to sea, Hor. Od. 3. lib. iii. Nor tempt the tarriag winds with tpnm^iar waim y Lib. i. p. 26, & 71. INTRODUCTION tliariot slowly drawn by six oxen, and followed by great numbers of the Athenian women.* They all carried mysterious baskets in their hands, filled with several things which they took great care to conceal, and covered with a veil of purple. This ceremony represented the basket into which Proserpinci put the flowers she was gathering Vv^hen Pluto seized and carried her off. The fifth day was called tne day of the Torches; because at night the men and w^omen ran about with them, in imitation of Ceres, w ho having lighted a toich at the fire of Mount iEtna, wandered about from place to place in search of her daughter. The sixth w^as the most famous day of all. It was called lacchus, the nam.e of Bacchus, son of Jupiter and Ceres, w^hose statue was then brought out with j^reat ceremony, crowned with myrtle, and holding a torch in its hand. The procession began at Ceramicus, and passing through the principal parts of the city, continued to Eleusis. The way leading to it was called the sacred way^ and lay across a bridge over the river Cephisus. This procession was very nu- merous, and generally consisted of thirty thousand persons. The temple of Eleusis, where it ended, was large enough to contain the whole multitude ; and Strabo says, its extent w^as equal to that of the theatres, which every body knows were capable of holding a much greater number oi people.! The whole way resounded with the sound of trumpets, clarions, and other musical instruments. Hymns were sung in honour of the goddesses, ac- companied with dancing and other extraordinary marks of rejoicing. The rot.t before mentioned, through the sacred way and over the Cephisus, was the usual way : but after the Lacedaemonians, in the Peloponnesian war, had forti- fied Decelia, the Athenians were obliged to make their procession by sea, till Alcibiades re-established the ancient custom. The seventh day was solemnized by games, and the gymnastic combats, in which the victor was rewarded with a measure of barley ; w^ithout doubt, be- cause it was at Eleusis the goddess first taught the method of raising that grain, and the use of it. The two following days were employed in some particular ceremonies, neither important nor remarkable. During this festival, it was prohibited, under very great penalties, to arrest any person whatsoever, in order to their being imprisoned, or to present any bill of complaint to the judges. It was regularly celebrated every fifth year, that is, after a revolution of four years: and no histoiy observes that it "was ever interrupted, except upon the taking of Thebes by Alexander' the Great, j: The Athenians, w^ho were then upon the point of celebrating the great myste- ries, were so much affected with the ruin of that city, that they could not re- solve, in so general an afflicton, to solemnize a festival which breathed nothing but merrim.ent and rejoicing. § It was continued down till the time of the Chris- tian emperors ; and Valentinian would have abolished it, if Pr^textatus, the pioconsul of Greece, had not represented, in the most lively and affecting terms, the universal sorrow which the abrogation of that feast would occasion among the people ; upon which it was suffered to subsist. It is supposed to have been finally suppressed by Theodosius the Great ; as were all the rest tiie pagan solemnities. OF AUGURIES, ORACLES, &.C. Nothing is more frequently m.entioned in ancient histoiy, than oracles, au- guries, and divinations. No w^ar was made, or colony settled ; nothing of con- sequence was undertaken, either public or private, without the gods being first consulted. This was a custom universally established among the Egyptian, Assyrian, Grecian, and Roman nations ; which is no doubt a proof, as has been aiready observed, of its being derived from ancient tradition, and thdt it had its • Tardaque Eleuslnas matris volve Jtic j^wfsti-a. The Eleiisinian mother's mystic car Vire^. Georj lib. i- ver. l^''3. Slfw roHmg^— — f H«r. t viiL c 65. Strabo. I. iz. ^ $9o. i Phii. in Vii. p 67L { Zozim. Hist. 1. ir S6 c?rigin in the religion and wc rship of the true God. It is not indeed to be qucj^ tioned, but that God before the deluge did manifest his will to mankind in dil ferent methods, as he h>s since done to his people, sometimes in his own per- son, and viva voce, sometimes by the ministry of angels, or of prophets inspi* |pd by himself, and at other times by apparitions or in dreams. When the de- - ^(.pndants of Noah dispersed themselves into different regions, they carried ihis tradition along with them, which was everywhere retained, though alter- rients have insisted more upon the necessity of consulting the godson all oc- casions by augurs and oracles, than Xenophon, and he founds that necessity, a? i have more than once observed eslewhere, upon a principle deduced from the most refined reason and discernment. He represents, in several places, ih'A man of himself is very frequently ignorant of what is advantageous or perni- cious to him ; that far from being capable of penetrating the future, the pre- sent itself escapes him : so narrow and short sighted is he, in all his views, tha^ the slightest obstacles can frustrate his greatest designs ; that the Divinitv alone, to whom all ages are present, can impart a certain knowledge of the fu lure to him ; that no other being has power to facilitate the success of his enter- prises ; and that it is reasonable to believe he will guide and protect those whc adore him with the most sincere affection, who invoke him at all times w^ith the greatest confidence and fidelity, and consult hhn with most sincerity and re signation. What a reproach it is to human reason, that so luminous a principle shoulO have given birth to the absurd reasonings and wretched notions in favour of the science of augurs and soothsayers, and been the occasion of espousing wit}/ 1)1 ind devotion the most ridiculous puerilities ; should have made the most important atlairs of state depend upon a bird's happening to sing upon the right or left hand; upon the greediness of chickens in pecking their grain; ^lie inspection of the entrails of beasts; the liver's being entire and in good condition, which, according to them, did sometimes entirely disappear, with- out leaving any trace or mark of its having ever subsisted! To these super- stitious observances may bs added, accidental rencounters, words spoken by chance, and afterwards turned into good or bad presages ; forebodings, prodi- gies, monsters, eclipses, comets, every extraordinary phenomenon, every un forseen accident, with an infinity of chimeras of the like nature. Whence could it happen, that so many great men, illustrious generals, able politicians, and even learned philosophei-s, have actually given in to such absurd imaginations ? Plutarch, in particular, so estimable in other respects, is to be pitied for his servile observance of the senseless customs of the pagan idolatry, and his ridiculous credulity in dreams, signs, and prodigies. He tells us some« where, that he abstained a great while from eating eggs, upon account of a dream, with which he has not thought fit to make us farther acquainted.* Tl'e wisest of the pagans did not want a just sense of the art of divination, and ( ften spoke of it to each other, and even in public, with the utmost con-- tempt, and in a manner sufnciently expressive of its ridicule. The grave cei> sor Cato was of opinion, that one soothsayer could not look at another without laughing. Hannibal was amazed at the simplicity of Prusias, whom he had advised to give battle, upon his being diverted from it by the inspection of the enti'ails of a victim. "What," said he, "have you more confidence in the liver of a beast, than in so old and experienced a captain as I am ? " Marcellu.?. who had been five times consul, and was augur, said, that he had discovered Si method of not being put to a stand by the sinister flight of birds, which was, te keep himself close shut up in his litter. . Cicero explains hie '^ielf upon augury without ambiguity or reserve. No* OF AUGURIES. * S\-mp©s, lib it Q.na";t. % p. 635. LNTRODUCTION. 37 tH)dy was more capaole of speaking- pertinently upon it than himself (as M. Morin observes in his dissertation upon the same subject.) As he was adopt ed into the college of augurs, he had made himself acquainted with the most concealed of their secrets, and had all possible opportunity of informing him- self fuily in their scieiice. That he did so, sufficiently appears from the two books he has left us upon divination, in v/hich it may be said he has exhausted the subject. In his second, wherein he refutes his brother Quintus, who had espoused the cause of the augurs, he disputes and defeats his false reasonings with a force, and at the same time with so refined and delicate a raillery, a? leaves us nothing to wish ; and he demonstiates by proofs, that rise upon each other in their force, the falsit}^ contrariety, and impossibility of that art.* But what is very surprising, in the mic'st of all his arguments, he takes occa- sion to blame the generals and magistrates, who on important conjunctures, had contemned the prcgnostics; and maintains, that the use of them, as great an abuse as it was in his ov/n opinion, ought nevertheless to be respected, out of regard to religion, and the prejudice of the people. All that I have hitherto said, tends to prove, that paganism was divided into two sects, almost equally enemies of religion : the one by their superstitious and blind regard for the h^gurs, and the other by their irreligious contempt and derision of them. The principle of the first, founded on one side upon the ignorance and weak- ness of man in the affairs of life, and on the other upon the prescience of the Divinily, and his almighty providence, was true; but the consequence dedu- ced from it, in regard to the augurs, false and absurd. They ought to have proved that ii was certain the Divinity himself had established these external signs, to denote his intentions, and that he had obliged himself to a punctual conformity to them upon all occasions ; but they had nothing of this kind in tl'.eir system. Augury and soothsaying, therefore, were the effect and inven- tion of*^the ignorance, rashness, curiosity, and blind passions of m.i.n. who pre- sumed to interrogate God, and would oblige him to give answers upc/ii every idle imagination and unjust enterprise. The others, who gave no real credit to any thing advanced by the science of the auguis, did not fail, however, to observe their trivial cerem.onies, out of policy, for the better subjecting the minds of the people to themselves, and to reconcile them to their own purposes b}^ the assistance of superstition : but by their contempt for auguries, and the entire conviction of their falsity, they wei e led into a disbelief of. the Divine Providence, and to despise religion itself; conceiving it inseparable from the numerous absurdities of this kind, which rendered it ridiculou*:, and consequently umrorthy a man of sense. Both the one and the other behaved in this manner, because, having mista- ken the Creator, and abused the light of nature, which might have taught them to know and to adore him, they were deservedly abandoned to their own dark- ness and absurd opinions ; and, if we had not been enlightened by the true re- ligion, even at this day we might have given ourselves up to the same super- stitions. OF ORACLES. No country was ever richer in, or more productive of oracles, than Greece. 1 shall confine myself to those which were the most noted. The oracle of Dodona, a city of the Molossians, was much celebrated; where Jupiter gave answers, either by vocal oaks, or doves, which had also their language, or by resounding basins of brass, or by the mouths of priesta and priestesses.! * Krrabal multis in rebus antiquitas : qua rn vel usu jarn, veldoctrina, velvetustate immutatam videmui. ReliKKtur autem et ad opinlonem vulgi, et ad magnas utilitates reip. mos, religio, disciplina, jus aug-iirwrn, eollegii auctorilas. Nee vero ncn omni supplicio dipni P. Claudius, L. Junius consules, qui contra'^ausipj- tiR navigaVunt. Parendum enim full reliirioni, ncc nalrius mos tarn contumaciter repudiandus. — Divm. L • n. 70, 71. ^1 4 C«rT»in i«7«tf»!"i»>nti wern fa^ttr. il to iVie toes of ciks. \*hirh b icir iJ:etcn by the Wrn- M t—H l I tNTUOOUCTlON The oracle of Trophonius in Bceotia, Ihougli he was a mere hero, wa« m ^eat reputation * After many preliminary ceremonieSj as washing in the river, offering sacrifices, drinking a water called Lethe, from its quality ot making people forget every thing, the votaries went down into his cave, by small ladders, through a very narrow passage. At the bottom was another lit- tle cavern, of which the entrance was also very small. There they lay down upon the ground, with a certain composition oi honey in each hand, which they were indispensably obliged to cairy with them. Their feet were placed within the opening of the little cave ; which was no sooner done, than they perceived themselves borne into it with great force and velocity. Futurity was there re- vealed to them ; but not to all in the same manner. Some saw, others heard rronders. From thence they returned quite stupified and out of their senses* and were placed in the chair of Mnemosyne, goddess of memory ; not without great need of her assistance to recover their remembrance, after their great fa- tigue, of what they had seen and heard ; admitting they had seen or heard any thing at all. Pausanias, who had consulted that oracle himself, and gone through all these ceremonies, has left a most ample description of it, to which Plutarch adds some particular circumstances, which I omit, to avoid a tedious prolixity.t The temple and oracle of the Branchidae,f in the neighbourhood of Mile- tus, so called from Branchus,the son of Apollo, was very ancient, and ingrea' esteem with all the lonians and Dorians of Asia. Xerxes, in his return frou* Greece, burnt this temple, after the priests had delivered its treasures to him That prince, in return, granted them an establishment in the remotest part of Asia, to secure them against the vengeance of the Greeks. After the war was over, the Milesians re-established that temple, with a magnificence, which, ac- cording to Strabo, surpassed that of all the other temples of Greece. When Alexander the Great had overthrown Darius, he utterly destroyed the city where the priests Branchidae had settled, of which their descendants were at that time in actual possession, punishing in the children the sacrilegious perfi dy of their fathers. Tacitus relates something very singular, though not very probable, of the oracles of Claros, a town of Ionia, in Asia Minor, near Colophon. " German- icus," says he, " went to consult Apollo at Claros. It is not a wom.an whc, gives the answers there, as at Delphos, but a man chosen out of certain fami- lies, and almost always of Miletus. It suffices to let him know the number and names of those who come to consult him. After which he retires into a cave, and having drank of the waters of a spring within it, he delivers answers in verse upon what the persons have in their thoughts, though he is often igno- rant, and knows nothing of composing in measure. It is said, that he foreto/d to Germanicus his sudden death, but in d^rk and ambiguous terms, according to the custom of oracles. "§ I omit a great number of other oracles, to proceed to the most famous oi them all. it is obvious that I mean the oracle of Apollo at Delphos. Pie was worshipped there under the name of the Pythian, a title derived from the serpent Python, which he had killed, or from a Greek word that signifies to inquire^ ru9icr0ai, because people came thither to consult him. From thence the Delphic priestess was called Pythia, and tb« games there celebrated, the Pythian ^mes. Delphos was an ancient city of Phocis in Achaia. It stood upon the declivi ty, and about the middle of the mountain Parnassus, built upon a small exteni of even ground, and surrounded with precipices, which fortified it without the help of art. Diodorus says, that there was a cavity upon Parnassus, from other means, g'ave a confused sound. Servius observes, that the same word in the Thessalian lang-uaje nifies dove and jprophetess, which had given room for the fabulous tradition of doves that spoke, ft vra? •asy to make those brazen basins sound by some secret means, and to <^'\yt what signification they pleased !o a confused and inarticulate rotse. ♦ Pausan. 1. ix. p. 90^, 601. -f Plut. dc Gen. Soer. p. 59a t H«rod. 1. i. o. 157. StreH. 1. xlv. p. 634. \ Ta'^t. ^nn-il. 1 ii. M NTBODUCTION 39 irh^ktoe an exhalation rose, ^rhich made the goats dance and skip about, and intoxicated the brain.* A shepherd having approached it, out of adesiie to know the causes of so extraordinary an efi'ect, was immediately seized witii violent agitations of body, and pronounced words, which, without doubt, he did not understand himself; but which, however, foretold futurity. Others made the same experiment,and it was soon rumoured throughout the neigh- bouring countries. The cavity was no longer approached without reverence. The exhalation was concluded to have something divine in it. A priestess was appointed for the reception of its effects, and a tripod placed upon the vent, called by the Latins Cortina, perhaps from the skin that covered it.j From thence she gave her oracles. The city of Delphos rose insensibly round about this cave, where a temple was erected, which at length became very maenifi- cent» The reputation of this oracle almost effaced, or at least very much ex- ceeded, that of all others. At first a single Pythia sufficed to answer those who came to consult the ora- cle, not yet amounting to any great number : but in process of time, when it g;rew info universal repute, a second was appointed to mount the tripod al- ternately with the first, and a third chosen to succeed in case of death or dis- ease. There were other assistants besides these to attend the Pythia in the lanctuary, of whom the most considerable were called prophets ; J it was their business to take care of the sacrifices, and to inspect the victims. To these the demands of the inquirers were delivered, either by word of mouth, or in writing, and they returned the answers, as we sliall see in the sequel. We must not confound the Pythia with the Sibyl of Delphos. The ancients represent tFie latter as a woman that roved from countiy to country, uttering her predictions. She was at the same time the Sibyl of Delphos, Erythra?, Babylon, CuniJB, and many other places, from her having resided in them all. The Pythia could iiot prophesy till she was intoxicated by the exhalation from the sanctuary. This miraculous vapour had not that effect at all times, and upon all occasions. The god was not always in the inspiring humour. At first he imparted himself only once a year, but at length he was prevailed upon to visit the Pythia every month. All days were not proper, and upon some it was not permi .ted to consult the oracle. These unfortunate days occa- sioned an oracle's being given to Alexander the Great, worthy of remark. He went to Delphos to consult the god, at a time when the priestess pretended it was forbidden to ask him any questions, and would not enter the temple. Alex- ander, who was always warm and tenacious, took hold of her by the arm to force her into it, when she cried out, Ah, my son, you are not to be resisted! or, my son you are invincible!^ Upon which v/ords, he declared he w^ould have no other oracle, and was contented with what he had received. The Pythia, before she ascended the tripod, was a long_^tim-e preparing for it by sacrifices, purifications, a fast of three days, and many other ceremonies The god denoted his approach by the moving of a laurel, that stood before the gate of the temple, which shook also to its very foundations. As soon as the divine vapour,|| like a penetrating fire, had diffused itself through the entrails of the priestess, her hair stood upright upon her head, her looks grew wild and furious, she foamed at the mouth, a sudden and v^iolenV trembling seized her whole body, with all the symptoms of distraction and frenzy.1T She uttered at intervals some words almost inarticulate, which the • Lib. XIV. p. 427, 428. j Corium. } ITf oqsnTai, \ AvtxvovTO $£T» 5 rraV, jj Cui talia facti Ante fores, snbito dod vultus. non color unus, Non comtae mansere coinae ; sed pectus anhelum, Et rabie fera corda tument ; majorque videri, Nec mortals sonans: afflata est niimine quando Jam propiore del. Vir^. ^^n. 1. vi. v. 46 — 51, V Amon^ the various marks which God has given us in the Scriptures to disting-uish his oracles fro bp t h e K >f the devi!, the fury or madness, attributed by Virgil to the Pythia, "et rabie fera corda tument," is OM. t it I, •«¥• Gi«d, thai «how the falsehood of ihc diviner's predictions, and give to such as '^•▼ioe th« 40 INTRODUCTIOK. prophets carefully collected. After she had been a certain time upon the tri pod, she was re-conducted to 4rer cell, where she generally continued many days, to recover from her fatigue ; and as Lucan says, a sudden death wasoftei f»itner the reward or punishment of her enthusiasm.* *• Nnmlnis aut poena est mors inamatura recepti, Autpretium." The prophets had poets under them, who made the oracles into verses, which were often bad enough, and gave occasion to say, it was very surprising that Apollo, who presided over the choir of the muses, should inspire his pro- phetess no better. But Plutarch informs us, that the god did not compose the verses of the oracle. He inflamed the Pythia's imagination, and kindled in ner soul that living light, which unveiled all futurity to her. The words she uttered in the heat of her enthusiasm, having neither method nor connexion, and coming only by starts, to use that expression,! from the bottom of her stomach, or rather from her belly, were collected with care by the prophets, who gave them afterwards to the poets to be turned into verse. These Apollo left to their own genius and natural talents ; as we may suppose he did the Pythia, when she composed verses, which, though not often, happened some- times. The substance of the oracle was inspired by Apollo, the manner of ex- pressing it was the priestess's own; the oracles were, however, often given in prose. . The general characteristics of oracles were ambiguity, obscurity, and con- vertibility, to use that expression, so that one answer would agree with seve- ral various, and sometimes directly opposite events.^ By the help of this arti- fice, the demons, who of themselves are not capable of Knowing futurity, con- cealed their ignorance, and amused the credulity of the pagan world. When Croesus was upon the point of invading the Medes, he' consulted the oracle of Delphos upon the success of that war, and was answered, that by passing the river Halys, he would ruin a great empire. What empire, his own, or that of his enemies ? He was to guess that ; but whatever the event might be, the oracle could not fail of being in the right. As much may be said upon the same god's answer to Pyrrhus : Aio te, ^acida, Romanos vincere posse. I repeat it in Latin, because the equivocality, which equally implies, that Pyrrhus could conquer the Romans, or the Romans Pyrrhus, will not sub- sist in a translation. Under the cover of such ambiguities, the god eluded all difficulties, and was never in the wrong. It must, however, be confessed, that sometimes the answer of the oracle was clear and circumstantial. I have related in the histoiy of Crcesus, the strata- gem he made use of to assure himself of the veracity of the oracle, ^vhich was to demand of it, by his am.bassador, what he was doing at a certain time prefixed. The oracle of Delphos replied, that he was causing a tortoise and a lamb to be dressed in a vessel of brass, which was really so.§ The empe- ror Trajan made a similar trial of the god at Heliopolis, by sending him a let- ter sealed up, to which he demanded an answer.il The oracle made no othi^ tzons of fury and madness ; or, according to Isa. xlir. 25. " that fruatrateth tlie tokens of the liar, and ma- keth diviner's mad. Instead of which, the prophets of the true God constantly give the divine answeri in aa equal and calm tone of voice, and with a noble tranquillity of behaviour. Another distinguishing / mark is, the demons giving their oracles in secret places, by-ways, and in the obscurity of caves; whereai God gave his in open day, and before all the world : " I have not spoken in secret, in a dark place of the •arth," Isa. xlr. 19. " I have not spoken in secret from the beginning," Isa. xlvili. 16. So that God did tot permit the devil to imitate his oracles, without imposing such conditions upon him, as might distinguish between the true and false inspiration. * Lib. V. t 'E.yyaicrr^liJivhs' X Quod si aliquis diierlt multa ab idolis esse prsidicta; hoc sciendum, quod semper mendacium junxe rint veritati, ct sic sententias temperarint, ut, seu boni sen mali quid accidissit, utrumqac possit intelligi Hierooym. in cap. xlii. Isaias. He cites the two examples of Croesus and Pyrrhus. } Macrob. 1. i. Saturnal. c. xxiii. SOne method of consultlDv the oi'acle was by sealed letters, which were laid upon tha altur of tht unopcQtd. INTRODLKri'KxN ^ j retun-, than to command a blank paper, well folded and sealed, to be deliver- ed to him. Trajan, upon the receipt of it, was struck with amazement to see an answer so correspondent with his own letter, in which he knew he had writ- ten nothing. The wonderful facility with which demons can transfer them- selves almost in an instant from place to place, made it not impossible foi them to give the two related answers, and seem to foretell in one country whaf they had seen in another ; this is Tertullian's opinion.* Admitting it to be true, that some oracles have been followed precisely by the events foretold, we may believe, that God, to punish the blind and sacri- legious credulity of the pagans, has sometimes permitted demons to have s knowledge of things to come, and to foretell them distinctly enough. Which conduct of God, though very much above human comprehension, is frequently attested in the holy Scriptures. It has been questioned, whether the oracles, mentioned in profane history, should be ascribed to the operations of demons, or only to the malignity and imposture of men. Vandale, a Dutch physician, has maintained the latter and Monsieur Fontenelle, when a young man, adopted that opinion, in the per suasion, to use his own words, that it was indifferent, as to the truth of Chris tianity, whether the oracles were the effect of the agency of spirits, or a series of impostures. Father Baltus, the Jesuit, professor of the holy Scriptures in the university of Stratsburg, has refuted them both in a very solid treatise, wherein he demonstrates invincibly, with the unanimous authority of the fa- thers, that demons were the real agents in the oracles. He attacks, with equal force and success, the rashness and presumption of the anabaptist physician, ivho, calling in question the capacity and discernment of the holy doctors, ab- surdly endeavours to efface the high idea which all true believers have of those great leaders of the church, and to depreciate their venerable authority, which is so great a difficulty to all who deviate from the prmciples of ancient tradition. ^ Now if that was ever certain and uniform in any thing, it is so in this point ; for all the fathers of the church, and ecclesiastical writers of every age, maintain and attest, that the devil was the author of idolatry in general, and of oracles in particular. This opinion does not prevent our believing, that the priests and priestesses were frequently guilty of fraud and imposture in the answers of the oracles. For is not the devil the father and prince of lies ? In Grecian history we have seen more than once the Delphic priestess suffer herself to be coriupted by presents. It was from that motive she persuaded the Lacedaemonians to as- sist the people of Athens in the expulsion of the thirty tyrants ; that she caused Demaratus to be divested of the royal dignity, to make way for Cleomenes , and dressed up an oracle to support the imposture of Lysander, when he en- deavoured to change the succession to the throne of Sparta. And I am apt to believe, that Themistocles, who well knew the importance of acting against the Persians by sea, inspired the god with the answer he gave, to defend them- selves with walls of wood,'\ Demosthenes, convinced that the oracles were fre- quently suggested by passion or interest, and suspecting, with reason, that F^hilip had instructed them to speak in his favour, boldly declared that the Vyfiih p/uUvpized, and bade the Athenians and Thebans remember, that Peri- cles and^Epaminondas, instead of listening to, and amusing themselves with, the frivolous answers of the oracle, those idle bugbears of the base and cow- ardly, consulted only reason in the choice and execution of their measures. 1 he same father Baltus examines, with equal success, the cessation of ora- des, a secoj'i point. in the dispute. Mr. Vandale, to oppose with some advan- tage a truth io glorious to Jesus Christ, the subverter of idolatry, had falsified * Oinsis splritiis ales. Hoc et Rn^eli et aaimon-'?,. l-'iUir moment.; iibique sunt: tgtus orbis His locut musest: quid ubi g-eratur tam facile scinnt. quam (w nntirnt. ydocitas divinitas creditur, quia substantia ^ooratDF. C«terum testudinem decoqui cum carnlbus pecudis PytE» us eo modo renunciaviL, quo Mipri l**-ui.u«. Momcato apud Lydlam fuerat — Tertiil. in Apolog. t riut. ift Dfmo5th. p. Rfvt ^ mXRODUCTION. the sense of the fathers, by making them say,* that oracles ceased precisely the moment of Chrisfs birth. The learned apologii?t for the fathers shows, that all they allege is, that oracles did not cease till after our Saviour's birth, and the preaching of his gospel ; not on a sudden, but in proportion as his salutary doctrines became knowTi to mankind, and gained ground in the world. This unanimous opinion of the fathers is confirmed by the unexceptionable evidence of great numbers of the pagans, who agree with them as to the time when the oracles ceased. What an honour to the Christian religion was this silence imposed upon the oracles by the victory of Jesus Christ ! Every Christian had this power. Tert'\llian, in one of his apologies, challenges the pagans to make the experi- ment, and consents that a Christian should be put to death, if he did not oblige these givers of oracles to confe«i^« themselves devils.* Lactantius informs ui?, that every Christian could silence them by the sign of the cross, j And all the world knows, that when Julian the Apostate was at Daphne, a suburb of Antioch, to consult Apollo, the god, notwithstanding all the sacrifices offered to him, continued mute, and only recovered his speech to answer those who inquired the cause of his silence, that they must ascribe it to the interiner t of certain bodies in the neighbourhood. Those w^ere the bodies of Chri* tian martyrs, among which was that of St. Babylas. This triumph of the Christian religion, ought to give us a due sense of our obligations to Jesus Christ, and, at .the same time, of the darkness to which all mankind were abandoned before his coming. We have seen among the Car- thaginians, fathers and mothers more cruel than wild beasts, inhumanly giving up their children, and annually depopulating their cities, by destroying the most florid of their youth, in obedience to the bloody dictates of their oracles and false gods. J The victims were chosen without any regard to rank, sex, age, or condition. Such bloody executions were honoured with the name of sacrifices, and designed to make the gods propitious. " Wliat greater evil,'' cries Lactantius, " could they inflict in their most violent displeasure, than to deprive their adorers of all sense of humanity, to make them cut the throats of their own children, and pollute their sacrilegious hands with such execrable parricides!" A thousand frauds and impostures, openly detected at Delphos, and every where else, had not opened men's eyes, nor in the least diminished the credit of the oracles, which subsisted upwards of two thousand years, and Avas car- ried to an inconceivable height, even in the mJnds of the greatest men, the most profound philosophers, the most powerful princes, and generally among the most civilized nations, and such as valued themselves most upon their wisdom and policy. The estimation they were in may be judged Irom the magnifi- cence of the temple of Delphos, and the immense riches amassed in it, through the superstitious credulity of nations and monarchs. The temple of Delphos having been burnt about the fifty-eighth Olympiad, the Amphyctions, those celebrated judges of Greece, took upon themselves the care of rebuilding it.§ They agreed with an architect for 300 talents, which amounts to 900,000 livres.|| The cities of Greece were to furnish that sum. The inhabitants of Delphos were taxed a fourth part of it, and collect* ed contributions in all parts, even in foreign nations, for that purpose. Ama- sis, at that time king of Egypt, and the Grecian inhabitants of his countiy, con- tributed considerable sums towards it. The Alcmaeonidae, a potent family of Athens, were charged with the conduct of the building, and made it more mag^ * Tertull. in / r)oloo-. \ Inh. de Vera Sapient, c. xxvii. J Tarn barbaros, tarn immanea fuisse homines, ut parricidium suum, id est letrum atque execrabile bu- mano generi facinus, saerificium vocarent. Cum teneras atque innocentes animas, qur»; maximfe est ajtai J>arentibus dulcior, sine nllo respeclu pielalls extinguerunl, immanitatemque omnium bestiarum, qua? tamen OBtus 8U08 amxnt, feritaie superarent. O dementiam insanabilem ! Q,uid il'is isti dii amplius facere po»- •ent, fi es«ent iralisslmi, quam faclunt propitii ? Cum suos cultorcs parricidiia inquiaant, orbil*tibui ina> tent, bumanis sensibus spoliant. — Lactant. 1. i. c. "Jl, 6 Herod. I. ii. c. 180. & 1. v. c. 6Q || About QVn.'iSQ. Un-ROUUCTION 43 ttificent, by considerable additions of their own, than had been proposed m the model. Gyges, king of Lydia, and Croesus, one of his successors, enriched the tem- ple of Delphos with an incredible number of presents. JVIany other princes, cities, and private persons, by their example, in a kind of emulation of each other, had heaped up in it, tripods, vessels, tables, shields, crowns, chariots, and statues of gold and silver of all sizes, equally infinite in number and value. The presents of gold, which Croesus alone made to this temple, amounted, ucoiding to Herodotus,* to upwards of 254 talents, that is, about 762,000 French livres ; t and perhaps those of silver to as much. Most of these pre- sents were existing in the time of Herodotus. Diodorus Siculus, t adding (hose of other princes to them, makes their amount ten thousand talents, or thirty millions of livres. § Among the statues of gold, consecrated by Croesus in the temple of Delphos, was placed that of a female baker ; || the occasion of which was this ; Alyat- tus, Croesus' father, having married a second wife, by whom he had children, she laid a plan to get rid of her son-in-law, that the crown might descend to her own issue. For this purpose, she engaged the female baker to put poison into a loaf that was to be served at the young prince's table. The woman who was Ftruck with horror at the crime, in which she ought to have had no part at all, gave Croesus notice of it. The poisoned loaf was served to the queen's own children, and their death secured the crown to the lawful successor. When he ascended the throne, in gratitude to his benefactress, he erected a statue to her in the temple of Delphos. But may we conclude that a person of so mean a condition could deserve so great an honour ? Plutarch answers in the affirma- tive ; and with a much better title, he says, than many of the so much vaunted conquerors and heroes, who have acquired their fame only by murder and de- vastation. It is not surprising, that such immense riches should tempt the avarice of mankind, and expose Delphos to being frequently pillaged. Withvout men- tioning more ancient times, Xerxes, who invaded Greece with a million of men, endeavoured to seize upon the spoils of this temple. Above a hundred years after, the Phoceans, near neighbours of Delphos, plundered it ,^1 several times. The same rich booty was the sole mKive of the irruption of Gauls into Greece, under Brennus. The guardian god of Delphos, if we may believe historians, sometimes defended this temple by surprising prodigies ; and at others, either from impotence or confusion, suffered himself to be plundered. When Nero made this temple, so famous throughout the universe, a visit, and found in it five hundred brass statues of illustrious men and gods to his liking, which had been consecrated to Apollo, (those of gold and silver having un- doubtedly disappeared upon his approach,) he ordered thena to be taken dovvn and, shipping them on board his vessels, carried them with him to Rome. ^ Those who would be more particularly informed concerning the oracles and riches of the temple of Delphos, may consult some dissertations upon this sub- i'ect printed in the memoirs of the Academy of Belles Lettres^^ of which I lave made good use, according to my custom. OF THE GAMES AND COMBATS Games and combats made a part of the religion, and had a share in almo^ til the festivals of the ancients ; and for that reason, it is proper to treat oi them in this place. Whether we consider their origin, or the design of theii institution, we shall not be surprised at their being so much practised in tlie oest governed states. Hercules, Theseus, Castor, and Pollux, and the greatest heroes of antiquity, irere not only the institutors or restorers of them, but thought it glorious te/ * Herotl. 1. i. o. 50, 51. f About $140,970. + Diod 1. xvi. p 453 i About j85,7T2,000. |] Plut. de Pjth. Orac. p. 401. If Vol. III. 44 UVTRODUenON. «hare m the exercise of ihem, and meritorious to succeed therein. The suh- duers of monsters, and of the common enemies of mankind, thought it no disgrace to them to aspire to the victories in these combats; nor that the nev* wreaths, with which their brows were encircled on the solemnization of these p^ames, took any lustre from those they had before acquired. Hence tlie most famous poets made these combats the subject of their verses ; the beauty of whose poetry, while it immortalized themselves, seemed to promise an eternity of fame to those whose victories it so divinely celebrated. Hence arose that uncommon ardour which animated all Greece to imitate the ancient heroes, and, like them, to signalize themselves in the public combats. A reason more solid, which results from the nature of these combats, and 01 the people who used them, may be given for their prevalence. The Greeks. by nature warlike, and equally intent upon forming the bodies and minds of their youth, introduced these exercises, and annexed honours to them, in order to prepare the younger sort for the profession of arms, to confirm their health, to render them stronger and more robust, to inure them to fatigues, and to make them intrepid in close fight, in which, the use of fire-arms being then unknown, the strength of body generally decided the victory. These athletic exercises supplied the place of those in use among our nobility, as dancing, fencing, riding the great horse, &c. ; but they did not confine themselves to a graceful mien, nor to the beauties of a shape and face ; they were for joining strength to the charms of person. It is true, these exercises, so illustrious by their founders, and so useful in the ends at first proposed from them, introduced public masters, who taught them to young persons, and, practising them with success, made public show and ostentation of their skill. This sort of men applied themselves solely to the practice of this art, and, carrying it to an excess, they formed it into a kind of science, by the addition of rules and refinements, often challenging each other out of a vain emulation, till at length they degenerated into a profession of people, who, without any other employment of merit, exhibited themselves as a sight for the diversion of the public. Our dancing-masters are not unlike them in this respect, whose natural and original designation was to teach youth a graceful manner of walking, and a good address ; but now we see them mount the stage, and perform ballets in ^he garb of comedians, capering, jump- ing, skipping, and making a variety of strange unnatural m^otions. We shall see, in the sequel, what opinion the ancients had of their professed combatants and wresding masters. There were four kinds of games solemnized in Greece. The Olympic^ so called from Olympia, otherwise Pisa, a town of Elis in Peloponnesus, near which they were celebrated after the expiration of every four years, in hon- our of Jupiter Olympius. The Pythic^ sacred' to Apollo Pythius,*" so called from the serpent Python killed by him ; they w^ere celebrated at Delphos every four years. The NemcEan^ which took their name from Nem.ae, a city and forest of Peloponnesus, and were either instituted or restored by Hercu- les, after he had slain the lion of the Nemeean forest. They were solemnized every two years. And lastly, the Isthmian^ celebrated upon the isthmus of Corinth, every four years, in honour of Neptune. Theseus was the restorer of them, and they continued even after the ruin of Corinth. t That persons might be present at these public sports with greater quiet and security, there was a general suspension of arms, and cessation of hostilities, throughout all Greece, during the time of their celebration. In these games, which were solemnized with incredible magnificence, and drew together a prodigious coiKourse of spectators from all parts, a simple wreath was all the reward of ilie victors. In the Olympic games it w^as com- posed of wild olive ; in the Pythic, of laurel ; in the Nema^an, of g'-een pars- ley ;j: and in the Isthmian, ot the sam.e herb dried. The insti tutors of these • Several n asfMU arf g-)"t»ti for tl.ls n»ruc. * Paul. 1. ii. p. 3r« INTRODUCTION 45 games implied from thence, that only honour, and not mean and sordid inte* rest ought to be the motive of great actions. Of what were men not capa- ble, accustomed to act solety from so glorious a principle We have seen in the Persian war, that Tigranes, one of the most considerable c.ptains in the army of Xerxes, having heard the prizes in the Grecian games described, cried out with astonishment, addressing himself to Mardonius who commanded in chief, Heavens! against what men are you leading us ^ insensille to interest^ they combat only for glory!] Which exclamation, though looked upon by Xerxes as an effect of abject fear, abounds with sense and judgment. It was from the same principle the Romans, while they bestowed upon oiher occasions, crowns of gold of great value, persisted always in givi«r only a wreath of oaken leaves to him who had saved the life of a citizen. " O manners, worthy of eternal remembrance!" cried Pliny, in relating this laud- able custom ; ''O grandeur, truly Roman, that would assign no other reward but honour, for the preservation of a citizen ! a service, indeed, above all reward; thereby sufficiently evincing their opinion, that it was criminal to save a man's life from the motive of lucre and interest !"j; 0 mores aiternos^ que tanta opera honore solo donaverint ; ei cum reliquas coronas auro comment darent^ salutem civis in pretio esse noluerint^ clara professione servari quidem horninem nefas esse lucri causa ! Among all the Grecian games, the Olympic held undeniably the first rank, and that for three reasons : they were sacred to Jupiter, the greatest of the gods ; instituted by Hercules, the first of the heroes ; and celebrated with more pomp and magnificence, amidst a greater concourse of spectators, at- tracted from all parts, than any of the rest. If Pausanias may be believed, women were prohibited to be present at them upon pain of death ; and during their continuance, it was ordained, that no woman should approach the place where the games were celebrated, or pass on that side of the river Alpheus. One only was so bold as to violate this law, and slipped in disguise among the combatants. She was tried for the offence, and would have suffered for it, according to the law, if the judges, in regard to her father, her brother, and her son, who had all been victors in the Olympic games, had not pardoned her offence and saved her life.§ This law was perfectly conformable to the Grecian manners, among whom the ladies were very reserved, seldom appeared in public, had separate apartments, called Gyncecea^ and never ate at table with the men when strangers were present. It was certainly inconsistent with decency to admit Ihem at some of the games, as those of wrestling, and the Pancratium, in which the combatants fought naked. The same Pausanias tells us in another place, that the priestess of Ceres had an honourable seat in these games, and that virgins were not denied the liberty of being present at them.|| For my part, I "cannot conceive the rea- son^of such inconsistency, which indeed seems incredible. The Greeks thought nothing comparable to the victory in these games. They looked upon it as the perfection of glory, and did not believe it permit* ted to mortals to desire any thing beyond it. Cicero assures us, that witlr them it was no less honourable than the consular dignity in its original splen* dour with the ancient Romans.H And in another jplace he says, that to con- quer at Olympia ^^as almost, in the estimation of the Grecians, more great and fflorious, than to receive the honour of a triumph at Rome.*'* Horace speaks in still stronger terms upon this kind of victory. He is not afraid to * Herod. 1. viii. c. 26. t^TTaTrai M(x^d6vi£, x6ivovs \ir' SivS^as ^yayBs ixaxriaoyLivas, rj/ijai. o7 k rEji xf^ipia. tuv tov dywva m- ^, ^- ^' ^' ^' 5 Pausan. 1. v. p. 297. || Pausan. 1. vi. p. 592. IT Olympiorum victona, Grccis consulatus ille antiquus videbatur TuscuU Quest, lib. ii. n. 41. •* Olympionicura esse apud Grapcis prope majus fuit et glorioaus, quam Romr triumphasse.—Pro FUo^ mm. uixi- 46 mTRODUCTION. Bay, that it exalts the victor above hmmn nature ; they were no longer men hut eods,**' We shall see hereafter what extraordinary honours were paid lo the victoi of which one of the most affecting was to date the year with his name. No thing" could niore effectually enliven their endeavours, and make them regard i less of expenses, than the assurance of immortalizing their names, which, fo'. I the future, would be annexed to the calendar, and in the front of all lawx I made in the same year with the victory. To this motive may be added, the joy of knowing, that their praises w^ould be celebrated by the most famous poets, and share in the entertainment of the most illustrious assemblies ; for {hese odes were sung in every house, and had a part in every entertainment. What could be a more powerful incentive to a people, who had no othei ol> ject and aim than that of human glory ? I shall confine myself upon this head to the Olympic games, which contin- ued five days ; and. shall describe, in as brief a manner as possible, the seve- ral kinds 01 combats of which they were composed. M. Burette has treated this subject in several dissertations, printed in the Memoirs of the Academy of Belles Lettres ; wherein purity, perspicuity, and elegance of style, are united with profound erudition. I make no scruple in appropriating to niy use the riches of my brethren ; and in what I have already said upon the Olym- pic games, have made very free with the late Abbe Massieu's rem.arks upon the odes of Pindar. / The combats which had the greatest share in the solemnity of the public ./ games, were boxing, wrestling, the pancratium, the discus or quoit, and ra- I cing. To these may be added the exercises of leaping, throwing the dart/ j and that of the trochus or wheel ; but as these were neither important, noroi I any great reputation, I shall content myself with having only mentioned them J in this place. For the better methodizing the particulars of these games and exercises, it will be necessary to begin with an account OF THE ATHLETJE, OR COMBATANTS. f The term athletae is derived from the Greek word aOxoj. which signifies la |bour, combat. This name was given to those who exercised themselves witi design to dispute the prizes in the public games. The art by which they formed themselves for these encounters, was called gymnastic, nom the ath- letae practising naked. Those who were designed for this profession, frequented, from their most tender age, the Gymnasia or Palaestrae, which were a kind of academies main tained, for that purpose, at the public expense. In these places, such young people were under the direction of different masters, who employed the most effectual methods to inure their bodies for the fatigues of the public games, and to train them for the combats. The regimen they w^ere under was \ey hard and severe. At first they had no other nourishment than dried figs, nuts, K)ft cheese, and a gross heavy sort of bread called ix6.(a. They were abso lutely forbidden the use of wine, and enjoined continence ; which Horace ei presses thus Q,ui studet optatam cursu contingere metam Multa tulit fecitque puer ; sudarit et alsit, Abstinuit vonere et vino. Who in the Oljrmpic race the prize would ^ain. Has borne from earljr youth fatigue and pain j Excess of heat and cold has often try'd. Love's softness banishM, and the glass denled.f • ^ Palmaque nobilis Terrarum dominos evehit ad deot. Hor. Od. t. lib. 1* Sive quos Elea domum reducit Palma caelestes. Hor. (M. tt. lib. 4. \ Art. Poet 41S. rNTRODUCTlON. 47 St. Paul, by an allusion to the athletse, exhorts the Corinthians, near whose city the Isthmian games were celebrated, to a sober and penitent life. Those vcho strive^ says he, for the mastery^ are temperate in all things : now they do it obtain a corruptible crown^ we an incorruptible, Tertullian uses the same thought to encourage the martyrs. He makes a comparison from what the hopes of victory made the athletae endure. He repeats the severe and painful exercises they were obliged to undergo ; the continual denial and con- straint in w^hich they passed the best years of their lives; and the volun- tary privation w^hich they imposed upon themselves of all that was most affecting and grateful to their p:^sions.* It is true, the athletae did not bU ways observe so severe a regimen, but at length substituted in its stead d voracity and indolence extremely remote from it. The athletae, before their exercises were rubbed w^ith oils and ointments, J to make their bodies more supple and vigorous. At first they made use of a belt, with an apron or scarf fastened to it, for their more decent appearance in the combats ; but one of the combatants happening to lose the victory by , this covering's falling off, that accident was the occasion of sacrificing modes- j ty to convenience, and retrenching the apron for the future. The athletae ■ were only naked in some exercises, as wTCstling, boxing, the pancratium, j and the foot-race. They practised a kind of noviciate in the Gymnasia for | ten months, to accomplish themselves in the several exercises by assiduous \ application ; and this they did in the presence of such as curiosity or idleness | conducted to look on. But when the celebration of the Olympic games drew ' nigh, the athletae who were to appear in them were kept to double exercise. Before they were admitted to combat, other proofs were required. As to birth, none but Greeks w^ere to be received. It was also necessary that their manners should be unexceptionable, and their condition free. No foreigner was admitted to combat in the Olympic games ; • and when Alexander, the son of Amyntas, king of Macedon, presented himself to dispute the prize, his com- petitors, without any regard to the royal dignity, opposed his reception as a j Macedonian, and consequently a barbarian and a stranger ; nor could the j judges be prevailed upon to admit him till he had proved in due form, his i fan ily originally descended from the Argives. I'he persons w^ho presided in the games, called Agonothetce, Athlothetce, and Hellanodiccd, registered the name and countiy of each champion ; and upon the opening of the games, a herald proclaimed the names of the combatants. They w^ere then made to take an oath, that they w^ould religiously observe the several laws prescribed in each kind" of combat, and to do nothing contrary to the established orders and regulations of the games. Fraud, artifice, and ex- cessive violence, w^ere absolutely pi-ohibited ; and the maxim so generally received elsewhere, that it is indifferent w4iether an enemy is conquered by deceit or valour, was banished from these combats.! The address of a com- batant expert in all the niceties of his art, who knows how to shift and w^ard dexterously, to put the change upon his adversary with art and subtlety, ■ and to improve the least advantages, must not be confounded here with the cowardly and knavish cunning^ of one, who, without regard to the laws pre- scribed, employs the most unfair means to vanquish his competitor. Those who disputed the prize in the several kinds of combats, drew lots for their precedency in them. It is time to bring our champions lo blows, and to run over the different kinds of combats, in which they exercised themselves. OF WRESTLING.^ Wrestling is one of the most ancient exercises of which we have any knowledge, having been practised in the time of the patriarchs, as the wrest^ * Nempe enim et athletae aegregantur ad stricticrem disciplinam, ut rohori sedificando vaccnt; cootV ncntur a liixuna, a cibis loBtioribui, a potu jucnndiore ; cocrunMir. ^•rucia'ifnr, fali-antur — TvffteLftd Maitp ^ Dolus an virtus, quis in no%\f> i-f^qnir. t ? 48 INTRODUCTION. linp of the angel with Jacob proves. Jacob supported the angel's attack m vigorously, that the latter, perceiving that he could not throw so rough a wrestler", was induced to make him iame, by touching the sinew of his thigh, which immediately shrunk up.'*^ Wrestling among the Greeks, as well as other nations, was practised at first with simplicity, little art, and in a natural manner ; the weight of the body, and the strength of the muscles, having more share in it, than address and «kill. Theseus was the first that reduced it to method, and refined it with the rules of art. He was also the first who established the public schools called Palcestrce^ where the young people had masters to instruct them in it. The wrestlers before they began tbeir combats, were rubbed all over in a rough manner, and afterwards anointed with oils, which added to the strength and flexibility of their limbs. But as this unction, by makmg the skin too sh'ppery, rendered it difficult for them to take hold of each other, they reme- died that inconvenience, sometimes by rolling themselves in the dust of the Palaestrai, sometimes b}^ throwing a fine sand upon each other, kept for that purpose in the Xysta?, or porticoes of the Gymnasia. Thus prepared, the wrestlers began their combat. They were matched two against two, and sometimes several couples contended at the same time. In this combat, the whole aim and design of the wrestlers was to throw their adversaiy upon the ground. Both strength and art were employed to this purpose : they seized each other by the arms, drew forwards, pushed back- svards, used, many distortions and twistings of the body; locking their limbs into each other's, seizing by the neck, throttling, pressing in their arms, strug- gling, plying on all sides, lifting from the ground, dashing their heads toge- ther like rams, and twisting one another's necks. The most considerable ad vantage in the wrestler's art, was to make himself master of his adversary's /egs, of which a fall was the immediate consequence. From whence Plautus says, in his Pseudolus, speaking of wine. He is a dangerous wrestler, he pre- sently takes one by the heels.] The Greek terms unoanEKiiEiv and Trrs^vi^eivy ana the Latin word supplantare^ seem to imply, that one oi these arts consisted iu stooping doAvn to seize the antagonist under the soles of his feet, and in rai- sing them up to give him a fall. In this manner the athleta^ wrestled standing, the combat ending with the fall of one of the competitors. But when it happened that the wrestler who was down drew his adversary along with him, either by art or accident, the combat continued upon the sand, the antagonists tumbling and twining with each other in a thousand different ways, till one of them got uppermost, and compelled the other to ask quarter, and confess himself vanquished. There w^as a third sort of wrestling called Ax? xeiQiaii'^^, from the athletee's using on- ly their hands in it, without taking hold of the body as in the other kinds ; and this exercise served as a prelude to the greater combat. It consisted in intermingling their fingers and in squeezing them with all their force ; in pushir>g one another, by joining the palms of their hands together ; in twist mg their fingers, wrists, and otner joints of the arm, without the assistance oi any other menber ; and the victory was his who obliged his opponent to asi quarter. The combatants were to fight three times successively, and to throw theii antagonists at least twice, before the prize could be adjudged to them. Homer describes the wrestling of Ajax and Ulysses ; Ovid, that of Hercu- les and Achelous ; Lucan, of Hercules and Antseus ; and Statius, in his The- baiJ, that of Tydeus and Agylleus.f The wrestlers of greatest reputation among the Greeks, were Milo of Cro tona, whose history 1 have refated elsewhere at large, and Polydamas. The tatter, alone and without arms, killed a furious lion upon Mount Olympus, ui ♦ G^n. xxxii. ?4. j Capiat pe(l«s primurn, luctator dolosu* est. t ni»a. 1. xiiii. V. 703. &c. Ovid. Mctam l.-ix. ▼ 31. &.c. Phars. 1. iv. v Stst. I ri. r. M» INTRODUCTION. imitation of Hercules, whom he proposed to himself as a model in this action Another time, having seized a bull by one of his hinder legs, the beast could not get loose without leaving his hoof in his hands. He could hold a chariot behind, whik the coachman whipped his horses in vain to make them ?o for- ward. Darius Nothus, king of Persia, hearing of his prodigious strength, was desirous of seeing him, and invited him to Susa. Three soldiers of that prince's guard, and of that band which the Persians call immortal^ esteemed the most warlike of their troops, were ordered to fall upon him. Our cham- pion fought and killed them all three. OF BOXING, OR THE CESTUS. Boxing is a combat at blows with the fist, from whence it derives its name. The combatants covered their fists with a kind of offensive arm«, called ces< tMs, and their heads with a sort of leather cap, to defend their temples and cars, which were most exposed to blows, and to deaden their viol*^,nce. The cestus was a kind of gauntlet or glove, made of straps of leather, and plated with brass, lead or iron. Their use was to strengthen the hands of the com- batants, and to ajdd violence to their blows. Sometimes the athleta^ came immediately to the most violent blows, and began their charge in the most furious manner. Sometimes whole hours passed in harassing and fatiguing each other, by a continual extension of their anris, rendering each other s blows ineffectual, and endeavouring in that manner of defence to keep off their adversary. But when they fought with the utmost fury, they aimed chiefly at the head and face, which parts they were mosi careful to defend, by either avoiding or parrying the blows made at them. When a combatant came to throw himself with all his force and vigour upon another, they had a surprising address in avoiding the attack, by a nim- ble turn of the body, which threw the imprudent adversary dow^n, and de- prived him of the victory. However fierce the combatants were against each other, their being ex- hausted by the length of the combat would frequently reduce them to the ne- cessity of making a truce, upon which the battle \yas suspended for som.e min- utes, that were employed in recovering from their fatigue, and rubbing off the «weat in which they were bathed ; after which they renewed the fight, till one of them, by letting fall his arms through weakness, or by swooning away, ex- plained that he could no longer support the pain or fatigiie, and desired quar- ter ; which was confessing himself vanquished. Boxing was one of the most rude and dangerous of the gymnastic combats; because, besides the danger of being crippled, the combatants ran the ha- zard of their lives. They sometimes fell down dead, or dying, upon the sand ; though that seldom happened, except the vanquished person persisted in not acknowledging his defeat : yet it was common for them to quit the fight with a countenance so disfigured, that it was not easy to know them after- wards ; carrying away with them the sad marks of their vigorous resistance, such as bruises and contusions in the face, the loss of an eye, their teeth knock- ed out, their jaws broken, or some more considerable fracture. We find in the poets, both Latin and Greek, several descriptions of this kind of combat. In Homer, that of Epeus and Euryalus ; in Theocritus, of Pollux and Amycus ; in Appollonius Rhodius, the same battle of Pollux and Amycus ; in Vii^il, that of Dares and Entellus ; and in Statins, and Valerius Fiaccus, of several other combatants.* OF THE PANCRATIUM.^ The pancratium was so called from two Greek words,! which signif^ that the whole force of the body was necessary for succeedii^ in it. II • Dioseor. Idyl. xxii. Ari^oneut. lib. ii. ^nelcl. 1. r. Tb^aia. 1. rii. ArjonaHt. 1. Ir. V«i, r 3 . M) IKTRODUCTlOBf. united boring and wrestling in the same fight, borrowing from one its manner of struggling and flingmg, and from the other, the ait of dealing blows, and of avoiding them with success. In wrestling it was not permitted to strike with Mie hand, nor in boxing to seize each other in the manner of wrestlers ; but in the pancratium, it was not only allowed to make use of all the gripes and arti- fices of wrestling, but the hands and feet, and even the teeth and nails, might be employed to conquer an antagonist. This combat was the most rough and dangerous. A pancratist in the Olym- pic games (called Arrichion, or Arrachion,; perceiving himself almost sufib- cated by his adversary, who had got fast hold of him by the throat, at the same time that he held him by the foot, broke one of his enemy's toes, the extrenie anguish of which obliged him to ask quarter at the very instant Arrichion him- self expired. The agonothetae crowned Arrichion, though dead, and proclaim- ed him victor. Philostratus has left us a very lively description of a painting, which represented this combat. OF THE DISCUS, OR QUOIT. ^ The discus was a kind of quoit of a round form, made sometimes of wood, but more frequently of stone, lead, or other metal, as iron or brass. Those who used this exercise were called discoboli, that is, flingers of the discus. The epithet xaTco/ioL^ioj, which signifies borne upon the shoulders, given to this instrument by ^^omer, sufficiently shows, that it was of too great a weight to be carried from place to place in the hands only, and that the shoulders were necessary for the support of such a burden any length of time. ^ - The intent of this exercise, as of almost all the others, was to invigorate the body, and to make men more capable of supporting the weight and use of arms. In war they were often obliged to carry such loads as appear excessive in these days, either of provisions, fascines, pallisades, or in scaling the walls, when, to equal the height of them, several of the besiegers mounted up IpM** tamque docile equorum genus «8t,. — Liv. lib. xxiii INTRODUCTION. 5J possible in driving, as their success depended, in a very great measure, upon the address of their drivers. It was anciently, therefore, only to persons of the first consideration, that this office was confided. Hence arose a laudable emulation to excel others in the art of guiding a chariot, and a kind of necessity to practice it very much, in order to succeed. The high rank of the persons who made use of chariots, ennobled, as it always happeng, an exeicise pecu- liar to them. The other exercises were adapted to private soldiers and horse- men, as wrestling, ninnir^, and the single horse-race ; but the use of chariots in the field was always reserved to princes and general? of armies. Hence it was, that all those who presented themstlves in the Olympic games to dispute the prize in the chariot-races, were persons considerable either for their riches, their birth, their employments, or great actions. Kings themselves eagerly aspired to this glory, from the belief that the title of victor in these games, was scarce inferior to that of conqueror, and that the Olympic palm added new dignity to the splendours of a throne. Pindar's odes inform us, that Gelon and Hiero, kings of Syracuse, were of that opinion. Diony- sius, who reigned there long after them, carried the same ambition much higher. Philip o/ Macedon had these victories stamped upon his coins, and seemed as much gratified with them, as with those obtained against the ene- mies of his state. All the world knows the answer of Alexander the Great on this subject. When his friends asked him, whether he would dispute the prize ot the races in these games ? Fe5, said he, if kings were to be my antag- onists,'* Which shows that he would not have disdained these contests, if there had been competitors in them worthy of him. The chariots were generally drawn by two or four horses abreast ; higos, quadngiB, Sometimes mules supplied the place of horses, and then the cha- riot was called dTT ivn. Pindar, in the fifth ode of his first book, celebrates one Psaumis, who had obtained a triple victory ; one by a chariot drawn by four horses, TcO^iTTTrcp ; another by one drawn by mules, d-rrivTi ; and the third by a single horse, x'^^^ti, which the title of the ode expresses. These chariots, upon a signal given, started together from a place called Carceres, Their places were regulated by lot, which was not an indiilerent circumstance to the victory ; for as they were to turn round a boundary, the chariot on the left was nearer than those on the right, which in consequence had a greater compass to take. It appears from several passages in Pindar, and especially from one in Sophocles, which I shall cite very soon, that they ran twelve times round the stadium. He that came in first the twelfth round ^vas victor. The chief art consisted in taking the best ground at the turning of the boundary ; for if the charioteer drove too near it, he was in danger of dashing the chariot to pieces ; and if he kept too wide of it, his nearest antago- nist might pass inside of him, and get foremost. It is obvious that these chariot-races could not be run without some danger: for as the motion of the wheels was very rapid, and grazed against the boun- daiy in turning, the least error in driving would have broke the chariot in pieces, and might have dangerously wounded the charioteer.! An example of which we find in the Electra of Sophocles, vv^ho gives an admirable descrip- tion of a chariot-race run by ten competitors. The false Orestes, at the twelfth and last round, having only one antagonist, the rest having been thrown out, v/as so unfortunate as to break one of his wheels against the boun- dary, and falling out of his seai entangled in the reins, the horses dragged him violently forward along with them, and tore him to pieces ; but this very seldom happened. To avoid such danger, Nestor gave the following directions to his son Antilochus, who was going to dispute the prize in the chariot-races. *' My son," says he, *' drive your horses as near as possible to * Plut. in Alex. p. 686. f M/'taqiie fervid is evitata rotis. The firoal shunn'd by the Wnrnin*- whcrls. Kotat. Od. i \\t>. i 5A INTRODUCTION. the ^oal ; for which reason, always inclining your body over your chariot^ I^e* the left of your competitors, and encouraging the horse on the right, give him the rein, while the near horse, hard held, turns the boundary so close to it, that the nave of the wheel seems to graze upon it ; but have a care of run- ning against the stone, lest you wound your horses, and dash the chariot in piaces.*'* Father Montfaucon mentions a difficulty, in his opinion, of much impon- ance in regard to the places of those who contended for the prize in the chariot-race. They all started, indeed, from the same line, and at the same time, and so far had no advantage of each other; but he whose lot gave him *.he first place, being nearest the boundary at the end of the career, and ha- iing but a small compass to describe in turning about it, had less way to make than the second, third, fourth, he, especially when the chariots were drawn by four horses, which took up a greater space between the first and the others, and obliged them to make a larger circle in coming round. This advantage twelve times together, as it must happen, admitting the stadium was to be run round twelve times, gave such a superiority to the first, as seemed to as- sure him infallibly of the victory^ against all his competitors. To me it seems, that the fleetness of the horses, joined with the address of the driver, might countervail this odds, either by getting before the first, or by taking his place, if not in the first, at least, in some of the subsequent rounds ; for it is not to be supposed, that in the progress of the race, the antagonists always contin- ued in the same order in which they started. They often changed places in a short interval of time, and in that variety and vicissitude consisted all the diversion of the spectators. It was not required that those who aspired to the victory should enter the lists, and drive their chariots in person. Their being spectators of the games, or even sending their horses thither, was sufficient ; but in either case, it was previously necessary to register the names of the persons for whom the horses were to run, either in the chariot or single horse races. At the time that the city of Potidaea surrendered to Philip, three couriers brought him advices ; the first, that the Illyrians had been defeated in a great battle by his general Parmenio; the second, that he had carried the prize of the horse-race in the Olympic games ; and the third, that the queen was de- livered of a son. Plutarch seems to insinuate, that Philip was equally de- lighted with each of these circumstances.! Hiero sent horses to Olympia, to run for the prize, and caused a magnifi- cent pavillion to be erected for them. Upon this occasion Themistocles ha- rangued the Greeks, to persuade them to pull down the tyrant's pavillion, who had refused his aid against the common enemy, and to hinder his horses from running with the rest. It does not appear that any regard was had to this remonstrance ; for we find by one of Pindar's odes, composed in honour of Hiero, that he won the prize in the equestrian races.J No one ever carried the ambition of making a great figure in the public ganr es of Greece so far as Alcibiades, in which he distinguished himself in the most splendid manner, by the great number of horses and chariots which he kept only for the races. There never was either private person or king that se\it, as he did, seven chariots at once to the Olympic games, wherein he earned the first, second, and third prizes ; an honour no one ever had before him.§ The famous poet Euripides celebrated these victories in an ode, of which Plutarch has preserved a fragment in Fit, Alcib, The victor, after having made a sumptuous feast to Jupiter, gave a magnificent feast to the innumera- ble multitude of the spectators at the games. It is not easy to comprehend hrw the wealth of a private person should suffice for so enormous an expense ; but x\ntisthenes, the scholar of Socrates, who relates what he saw, informs u^, ♦ H4>in. Iliad. 1. xxiii. v. 334, &c. f Pl"t- •« Alex. p. 666. ; Plut. in Themist. p. J24. / Plut. in Alcihitid. p l9*i. LNTRODUCTIOM. ti^t many cities of the allies, in emulation with each other, supplied Alcibi- jides with all things necessary for the support of such incredible magnificence ; gquipages, horses, tents, sacrifices, the most exquisite provisions, the most de- licate wines ; in a word, all that was necessary to the support of his table or .rain. The passage is remarkable ; for the same author assures us, that ibis NdLS not only done when Alcibiades went to the Olympic games, but in all his •nilitary expeditions and journeys by land or sea. " Wherever," says he, Alcibiades travelled, he made use of four of the allied cities as his servants. Ephesus furnished him with tents, as magnificent as those of the Persians ; Chios took care to provide for his horses ; Cyzicum supplied him with sacri- fices, and provisions for his table ; and Lesbos gave him wine, with all the other necessaries for his house." I must not omit, in speaking of the Olympic games, that the ladies were admitted to dispute the prize in them as well as the men ; which many oi Ihem obtained. Cynisca, sister of Agesilaus king of Sparta, first opened ihis new path of glory to her sex, and was proclaimed conqueror in the race /)f chariots with four horses."^ This victory, which till then had no example, did not fail of being celebrated with all possible splendour.! A magnificent monument was erected in Sparta in honour of Cynisca ; and the Lacedaemo oians, though otherwise very little sensible to the charms of poetry, appointed a poet to transmit this new triumph to posterity, and to immortalize its mem- ory by an inscription in verse.J She herself dedicated a chariot of brass, drawn by four horses, in the temgle of Delphos, in which the charioteer was also represented ; a certain proot that she did not drive it herself.§ In pro- cess of time, the picture of Cynisca, drawn by the famous Apelles, was an- nexed to it, and the whole aaorned with many inscriptions in honour of tliat Spartan heroine.il OF THE HONOURS AND REWARDS GRANTED TO THE VICTORS. These honours and rewards were of several kinds. The acclamations of Ihe spectators in honour of the victors were only a prelude to the rewards de- signed them. These rewards were different wreaths of wild olive, pine, pars- ley, or laurel, according to the different places where the games were celebra- ted. Those crowns were always attended with branches of palm, that the victors carried in their right hand ; which custom according to rlutarch arose, perhaps, from the nature of the palm-tree, which displays new vigour the more endeavours are used to crush or bend it, and is a symbol of the cham- E ion's courage and resistance in the attainment of the prize. IT As he might e victor more than once in the same games, and sometimes on the same day he might also receive several crowns and palms. When the victor had received the crown and palm, a herald, preceded by a trumpet, conducted him through the stadium, and proclaimed aloud the name and country of the successful champion, who passed in that kind of re- view before the peojple, while they redoubled their acclamations and ap- plauses at the sight of him. When he returned to his own country, the people came out in a body to meet him, and conducted him into the city, adorned with all the marks of his victory, and riding upon a chariot drawn by four horses. He made his entiy, not through the gates, but through a breach purposely made in the walls. Lighted torches were carried before him, and a numerous train followed to do honour to the procession. ^ The athletic triumph almost always concluded with feasts made for the victors, their relations and friends, either at the expense of the public, or by particular persons, who regaled not only their families and friends, but often a great part of the spectators. Alcibiades, after havii^ sacrificed to the Olym- ♦ Pftwan. I. iii p. 172. t Pa?- 2S8 ♦ Pag:. 172. \ Id. 1. v. p. 309. H Pausan. I. vi. p. 24i tf SjrQipos, I. viii. tjk&v 4. d6 INTRODUCTION. pian Jupiter, which was always the first care of the victor, treated the whoLi assembly.* Leophron did the same, as Athenaeus reports ; who adds, tha» Empedocles of Agrigentun, having conquered in the same games, and not having it in his power, being a Pythagorean, to regale the people with flesh or fish, he caused an ox to be made of a paste, composed of myrrh, incense and all sorts of spices, pieces of which were given to every person present.! One of the most honourable privileges granted to the athletic victors, wai the right of precedence at the public games. At Sparta it was a custom fo\ the king to taJce them with him in military expeditions, to fight near his per- son, and to be his guard ; which, with reason, was judged very honourable Another privilege, in which advantage was united with honour was that of be- \ns maintained for the rest of their lives at the expense of their country .J That this charge might not become too expensive to the state, Solon redu- ced the pension of a victor in the Olympic games to five hundred drachms ;§ in the Isthmian to a hundred ;1| ana in the rest in proportion. The victor and his country considered -this pension less as a relief of the champion's in- digence, than as a mark of honour and distinction. They were also exempt- ed from all civil offices and employments. The celebration of the games bein^ over, one of the first cares of the ma- gistrates, who presided in them, was to inscribe, in the jDublic register, the name and countiy of the athletae who had carried the prizes, and to annex the species of combat in which they had been victorious. The chariot-race had the preference over all other games. From y hence the historians, who date occurrences by the Olympiads, as Thucydides, Dionysius of Halicarnas- sus, Diodorus Siculus, and Pausanias, almost always express the Olympiad by the name and country of the victors in that race. The praises of the victorious athleta; were, among the Greeks, one of the Principal subjects of the lyric poetry. We find that all the odes of the foui ooks of Pindar turn upon it, each of which takes its title from the games, in which the combatants signalized themselves whose victories those poems celebrate. The poet, indeed, frequently enriches his matter, by calling into the champiorfs assistance, incapable alone of inspiring all the enthusiasm ne- cessar}% the aid of the gods, heroes, and princes, who have any relation to his subject ; and to support the flights of imagination, to which he abandons him- ' sell. Before Pindar, the poet Simonides practised the same manner of wri- ting, intermingling the praises cf the gods and heroes, with those of the cham- pions whose victories he sang. It is related, upon this head, that one of the victors in boxing, called Scopas, having agreed with Simonides for a poem upon his victory, the poet, according to custom, after having given the high- est praises to the champion, expatiated in a long digression to the honour of Castor and Pollux.lT Scopas, satisfied in appearance with the performance of Simonides, paid hi"m, however, only the third part of the sum agreed on, re* ferring him for the remainder to the Tyndarides, whom he had celebrated so well. And in fact he was well paid by them, if we may believe the se quel : for, at the feast given by the champion, while the guests were at table, a servant came to Simonides, and told him, that two men, covered with dust and sweat, were at the door, and desired to speak with him in all haste. He had scarce set his foot out of the chamber, in order to go to them, whea the roof fell in, and crushed the champion with all his guests to death. Sculpture united with poetry to perpetuate the fame of the champions Statues were erected to the victors, especially in the Olympic games, in fh€ very place where they had been crowned, and sometimes in that of theii birth also ; which was commonly done at the expense of their country. Among the statues which adorned Olympia, w^ere those of several childrer of ten or twelve years old, who had obtained the prize at that age in the • Plut. in Alcib. p. 1'36. f i. p. 3. + Diog. Laert. in Solon, p. 37. { About $47. t) About ^-9 f Cic. Orat. 1. ii. n. 35-2, 3:>3. Phaed. 1. ii. Fab. 24. Q,uininiliation in that public manner. The triumphal arches, erected during the reign of the emperors, where the enemies appeared with chains upon their hands and legs, could proceed only from a haughty fierceness of disposition, and an inhuman pride, that took delight in immortalizing the shame and sorrow of subjected nations.* The joy of the Greeks after a victory was far more modest. They erected trophies indeed, but of wood, a substance which time would soon consume; and these it was prohibited to renew. Plutarch's reason for this is admirable. After time had destroyed and obliterated the marks of dissension and enmity that had divided the people, it would have been the excess of odious and barbarous animosity to have thought of re-establishing them, and to have perpetuated the remembrance of ancient quarrels, which could not be buried too soon in silence and oblivion. He adds, that the trophies of stone and brass since substituted for those of wood, reflect no honour upon those who intro- duced the custom.t I em pleased with the grief depicted on Agesilaus's countenfince, after a considerable victory, wherein a great number of his enemies^ that is to say, of Greeks, were left upon the field, and to hear him utter with sighs and groans, these words, so full of moderation and humanity : *' Oh ! unhappy Greece, to deprive thyself of so many brave citizens, and to destroy those who had been sufficient to conquer all the barbarians.j" The same' spirit of moderation and humanity prevailed in the public shows of the Greeks. Their festivals had nothing mournful or afflictive in them. Every thing in those feasts tended to delight, friendship and harmony ; and in that consisted one of the greatest advantages which resulted to Gr<^,ece from the solemnization of these games. The republics, separated by dis- tance of country and diversity of ir.lerests, having the opportunity of meet- ing from time to time in the same place, and in the midst of rejoicing and festivity, allied more strictly with one another, stimulated each other against the barbarians and the com.mon enemies of their liberty, and made up theii differences by the mediation of some neutral state in alliance with them. The same language, manners, sacrifices, exercises, and worship, all conspired to unite the several little states of Greece into one great and formidable na- tion, and to preserve among them the same disposition, the same principles, the same zeal for their liberty, and the same fondness for the arts and sciences OF THE PRIZES OF WIT, AND THE SHOWS AND REPRESENTATIONS OF Tlli THEATRE. I HAVE reserved for the conclusion of this head another Kmd of com.peti tion, which does not at all depend upon the strength, activity, and address oi the body, and may be called with reason the combat of the mind ; wherein the orators, historians, and poets, made trial of their capacities, and submit- ted their productions to the censure and judgment of the public. The emu- lation in this sort of dispute was most lively and ardent, as the victory in question might justly be deemed to be infinitely superior to all the others, because it affects the m^n more nearly, is founded on nis personal and inter- nal qualities, and dec*%1es the merit of his wit and capacity ; which are ad- vantages we are apt to aspire at with the utmost vivacity and passion, and of which we are least of all inclined to renounce the glory to others. * Plut. in Q,uaest. Rom. p. 273. f "Oti tou x?(^v8 tol anpicra rnj rrjof lohs noKi^lovs iia^ofaf a/ioiujoCvTOf ahrois avaKaixt&mn wti t Plut. in Lacoit. Apophlbefro- 311. INTRODUCTlOxN. It was a great horn ur, and at the same time a most sensible pleasure, lor m-iters who are generally fond of fame and applause, to have known how to unite in their favour the suffrages of so numerous and select an assembly IS ^at of the Olympic games, in which were present all the finest geniuseg f[ Greece, and all the best judges of the excellency of a work. This thea- /o was equally open to history, eloquence, and poetry. Herodotus read his history at the Olympic games to all Greece, assem- bled a< them, and was heard with such applause, that the names of the nine Muses were given to the nine books which compose his work, and tbe peo- ple cried out wherever he passed. That is he who has written our history y and celebrated our glorious successes against the barbarians so excellently,* All who had been present at the games afterwards made every par< / Greece resound with the name and glory of this illustrious historian. Lucian, who writes the fact I have related, adds, that after the example of Herodotus, many of the sophists and rhetoricians went to Olympia, to read the harangues of their composing ; finding that to be the shortest and most certain method of acquiring a great reputation in a little time. Plutarch observes, that Lysias, the famous Athenian orator, contemporary with Herodotus, pronounced a speech in the Olympic games, wherein he congratulated the Greeks upon their reconciliation with each other, and their having united to reduce the pwver of Dionysius the Tyrant, as upon the greatest action they had ever done.t We may judge of the passion of the poets to signalize themselves in these solemn games, from that of Dionysius himself. J That prince, who had the foolish vanity to believe himself the most excellent poet of his time, ap- pointed readers, called in the Greek 'p^t-iw^ol^ {rhap^'odists), to read several pieces of his composing at Olympia. When they began to pronounce the verses of the royal poet, the strong and harmonious voices of the readers oc- casioned a profound silence, and they were heard at first with the greatest at- tention, which continually decreased as they went on, and turned at last into downright horse-laughs and hooting ; so miserable did the verses appear. He comforted himself for this disgrace by a victory he gained some time after in the feast of Bacchus, at Athens, at which he caused a tragedy of his composition to be represented. § The disputes of the poets in the Olympic games were nothing, in compa- rison with the ardour and emulation that prevailed at Athens ; which is what remains to be said upon this subject, and therefore I shall conclude with it; taking occasion to give my readers, at the same time, a short view w^t the shows and representations of the theatre of the ancients. Those who would be more fully informed on this subject, will find it treated at laige in a work, lately made public by the reverend father Brumoi, the Jesuit; a work which abounds with profound knowledge and erudition, and with reflections entirely new, deduced from the nature of the poems of which it treats. 1 shall make considerable use of that work, and often without citing it ; which is not uncommon with me. EXTRAORDINARY PASSION OF THE ATHENIANS FOR THE ENTERTAINMENTS OK THE STAGE. — EMULATION OF THE POETS IN DISPUTING THE PRIZES OF THOSE REPRESENTATIONS. — A SHORT IDEA OF DiBAMATIC POETRY. No people ever expressed so much ardour and eagerness for the entertain- ments of the theatre as the Greeks, and especially the Athenians. The rea- son is obvious; no people ever demonstrated such extent of genius, nor car- ried so far the love of eloquence and poesy, taste for the sciences, justness of sentiment, correctness of ear, and delicacy in all the refinements of language. % poor woman who sold herbs at Athens, discovered Theophrastus to be a ♦ Lucian. in Herod, p. 622. 60 INTRODUCTION! . Btran^er, by a single word which he affectedly made use of in expressmg him- self.* The common people got the tragedies of Euripides by heart. The S'enius of every nation expresses itself in the people's manner of passing theii ume, and in their pleasures. The great employment and delight of the Athe- nians were to amuse themselves w< h works of wit, and to judge of the dra- matic pieces that were acted by public authority several times a year, espe- cially at the feasis of Bacchus, when the tragic and comic poets disputed foi the prize. The former used to present four of their pieces at a time, except Sophocles, who did not tjiink fit to continue so laborious an exercise, and con- ^ned himself to one performance when he disputed the prize. The state appointed judges, to determine upon the merit of the tragic oi : jmic pieces, before they were represented in the festivals. They were acted before them in the presence of the people, but undoubtedly with no great pre- paration. The judges gave their suffrages, and that performance which had the most voices was declared victorious, received the crown as such, and was represented with all possible pomp at the expense of the republic. This did not, however, exclude such pieces as were only in the second or third class. The best had not always the preference ; for what times have been exempt from party, ca^jrice, ignorance, and prejudice ? jEIian is very angry with the judges, who in one oi these disputes, gave only the second place to Euripi- des. He accuses them of judging either without capacity or of suffering themselves to be bribed.f It is easy to conceive the warmth and emulation which these disputes and public rewards excited among the poets, and how much they contributed to the perfection to which Greece carried scenic per- formances. The dramatic poem introduces the persons themselves, speaking and acting upon the stage : in the epic, on the contrary, the poet only relates the dit- ferent adventures of his characters. It is natural to be delighted with fine descriptions of events, in which illustrious persons, and whole nations are in- terested ; and hence the epic poem had its origin. But we are quite dif- fei'ently affected with hearing those persons themselves, with being confidants of their most secret sentiments, and auditors and spectators of their resolut'ons, enterprises, and the happy or unhappy events attending them. To read and see an action are quite different things. We are infinitely more moved with what is acted, than wdth w^hat we merely read. Our eyes, as well as our minds are addressed at the same time. The spectator agreeably deceived by an imitation so nearly approaching life, mistakes the picture for the original, and thinks the object real. This gave birth to dramatic poetry, which includes tragedy and comedy. To these may be added the satyric poem, which derives its name from the satyrs, rural gods, w^ho were always the chief characters in it, and not from the satire^ a kind of abusive poetiy, which has no resemblance to this, and is of a much later date. The satyric poem was neither tragedy nor comedy, but something between both, participating of the character of each. The poets who disputed the prize, generally added one of these pieces to theii tragedies, to allay the gravity and solemnity of the one, with the mirth and pleasantry of the other. There is but one example of this ancient poem come 'lown to us, which is the Cyclops of Euripides. I shall confine myself upon this head, to tragedy and comedy, both which bad their origin among the Greeks, who looked upon them as fruits of their own growth, of which they could never have enough. Athens was remarka- ble for an extraordinary appetite of this kind. These two poems, which were for a long time comprised under the general name of tragedy, received Ihere by degrees such improvements as at length raised them to the highest p^fection. ♦Attica anns Theophrastum, hominem alioqui discrtissimum, annotata unius affeclatione rfrbi. hospitew lixit.— Q,uint. I. viri. e. 1. t Jl'^lian. \. W. C. ft. INTRODUCTION. 61 THE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF TRAGEDY. POETS WHO EXCELLED Elf IT Al ATHENS ; iESCHYLUS, SOPHOCLES, AND E^JRIPIDES. There had been many tragic and com!'" poets before Thespis ; but as thej had made no alteration in the original rude form of this poem, and as Thespis was the first that made any improvement in it, he was g'eneraJly esteemed its inventor. Before him, tragedy was no more than a jumble of buffoon tales in the comic style, intermixed wfth the singing of a chorus in praise of Bacchus ; for it is to the feasts of that god, celebrated at the time of the vintage, tha* tragedy owes its birth. La Irag^die, informe rl grossiere en naissant, N'6k)it qu' un simple chceur, chacun en dansant, Et du dieu des raisins entonant les louanges, S'eff'orcoit d'attirer de fertiles vendanges. La,, le vin etlajoie 6veillant les esprits, Du plus habile chantre un bouc 6toit le prii.* Formless and gross did tragedy arise, A simple chorus, rather mad than wise ; For fruitful vintages the dancing throng Koar'd to the god of graces a drunken song : Wild mirth and wine sustain'd the frantic note, And the best singer had the prize, a goat. Thespis made several alterations in it, which Horace describes after Aris- totle, in his Art of Poetry. The first was to carry his actors about in a cart, whereas before, they used to sing in the streets, wherever chance led them. Another was, to have their faces smeared over with wine-lees, instead of act- ing without disguise, as at first. j He also introduced a character among the chorus, who, to give the actors time to rest themselves and to t^e breath, repealed the adventures of some illustrious person ; which recital at length ^avt place to the subjects of tragedy. Thespis fut le premier, qui barbouill6 de lie, Promena par les bourgs cette heureuse folic, Ftd'acteurs mal ornes chargeant un tombereau, Amusa les passans d'un S[)ectacle nouYcau.J First Thespis, smeerM with lees, and void of art. * The grateful fo'dly vented from a cart; And as his tawdry actors drove about. The sight was new and charmed the gaping rout. Thespis lived in the time of Solon. 5 That wise legislator, upon seeing hi§ pieces performed, expressed his dislike, by striking his staff against the ground ; apprehending that these poetical fictions, and idle stories, from mere theatrical representations, would soon become matters of importance, and have too great a share in all public and private affairs. It is not so easy to invent, as to improve the inventions of others. The al- terations Thespis made in tragedy gave room for ^^schylus to make new and more considerable ones of his own. He was born at Athens in the first year of the sixteenth Olympiad.!! He took upon him the profession of arms, at i time when the Athenians reckoned almost as many heroes as citizens. He- was at the battles of Marathon, Salamis, and Plataea, where he did his duty But his disposition called him elsewhere^ and put him upon entering into ano ther course, where no Jess glory was to be acquired, and where he was socn without any competitors. IF As a superior genius, he took upon him to reform, * Boileau Art. Poet. Chant, iii. I Ignotura tragicse genus inrenlsse Camente DicUur, et planstris vexisse poemata Thespis, ^,ui canerent agerentque, peruncti faecibus ora. Hor. de Art. Poet. When Thespis first expos'd the trag?c mizse, Rude were the actors, and a cart the scene ; Wiiere ghastly faces, srnear'd with lees of wine, Frighted the ciiildren, and amused the crowd. Roscom. Art of Po«t. J BoHeaM Art. Poet. Chnn Hi. {A.M. 3440. Ant. J. C. 564. Plut. in S#*». U A. M. .'J4rU. .\n> ;.( . WO. ■ V A.M 3514. Aat. J C. 4«0. 62 INTRODUCTION. or rather to create tragedy anew ; of which he has, in consequence, been ways acknowledged the inventor and father. Father Brumoi, in a disaertatioo which abounds with wit and good sense, explains the manner in which iKschy- lus conceived the true idea of tragedy from Homer's epic poems. That poet himself used to say, that his works were only copies in relievo of Homer'a draughts, in the Iliad and Odyssey. Tragedy, therefore, took a new form under him. He gave masks to his ac- tors, adorned them with robes and trains, and made them wear buskins. In- stead of a cart he created a theatre of moderate extent, and entirely changed (heir style ; which from being merry and burlesque, as at first, became majes tic and serious.* Kschyle dans le chcEur jelta les personages ; D'un masque plus honn6te habllla les visages ; Sur les ais d'un theatre en public exhausse Fit paroitre I'acteur d'un brodequin chauss^.f From ^schylus the chorus learnt new grac^^ Me veil'd with *!ecent masks the actors face,- Tau<;-ht him in buskins first to tread the stage, Anu rais'd a theatre to please the age. But that was only the external part or body of tragedy. Its soul, whJco vas the most important and essential addition of ^schyius, consisted in the nvacity and spirit of the action, sustained by the dialogue of the persons of the drama introduced by him : in the artful working up of the stronger pas- sions, especially of terror and pity, that, by alternately afflicting and agitating the soul with mournful or terrible objects, produce a grateful pleasure ana delight from that very trouble and emotion ; in the choice of a subject, great, noble, interesting, and contained within the true bounds by the unity of time, place, and action ; in fine, it is the conduct and disposition of the whole piece, which by the order and harmony of its parts, and the happy connexion of its incidents and intrigues, holds the mind of the spectator in suspense till the ca- tastrophe, and then restores him his tranquillity, and dismisses him with satis- faction. The chorus had been established before ^scbylus, as it composed alone, or next to alone, what was then called tragedy. He did not, therefore, exclude it, but, on the contrary, thought fit to incorporate it, to sing as chorus be- tween the acts. Thus it supplied the interval of resting, and was a kind of person of the drama, employed either in giving useful counsels and salutaiy instructions, in espousing the part of innocence and virtue, in being the de-j pository of secrets, and the avenger of violated religion, or in sustainiaig ali those characters at the same time, according toHorace.J The coryphaeus, d principal person of the chorus, spoke for the rest. * Post hunc personae pallajque repertor honest'e JEschylus, et modicis instravit pulpita tignis, Ki dociiit magnumque loqui, nitique cothurno. Hor. de Art. Poet This 7f2schylus (with indignation) saw. And built a staj^e, found out a decent dress. Brought vizards in (a civiler disguise,) And taught men how to speak, and how to &ct. Roscom. ksi ef Po«t t Boileau Art. Poet. X Actoris partes chorus olBciumque virile Pefendat ; neu quid medios intercinat actus. Quod non rroposilo conducat, et haereat apte. llle bonis laveatque, et concilietur amicis, Etregat iratos, et amet percare timentes. llle dapes laudet mensai bj^vis: ille salubrem .luRtitiam, legcsque, et aperiis otia portis. llle tegut commissa, deosque precetur etoret, t'l rcdwal mi^ieris, abeat fortuna superbis. Hor. de Art. Pm«. 'The chorus should jopply what action wanU. iad hmti a ^jentfoiw aad iHAiiy part j INTRODUCTION. 65 in one of iEschylus's pieces, called the Eumenides, the poet representii Orestes at the bottom of the stage, surrounded by the furies, laid asleep by Apollo. Their figure must have been extremely horrible, as it is related, that upon their waking, and appearing tumultuously on the theatre, where they were to act as a chorus, some wotnen miscarried with the surprise, and gev^ra! children died of the fright. The chorus at that time consisted of Mty actors. After this accident it was reduced to fifteen, by an express law, and ^i icngia to twelve. I have observed, that one of the alterations made by ^schylus in tragedy, was the mask worn by the actors. These dramatic masks had no resemblance 'o o'lrs, which only cover the face, but were a kind of case for the whole Head, and which, besides the features, represented the be.-ird, the hair, the »ars, and even the ornaments used by women in their head-dresses. These nasks varied according to the different pieces that were acted. They are seated of at large in a dissertation of M. Boindin's, inserted in the Memoirs / the Academy of Belles Lettres.* I could never comprehend, as I have observed elsewhere,t in speaking of pronunciation, how masks came to continue so long upon the stage of the an- cients ; for certainly they could not be used, without considerably flattening the spirit of the action, which is principally expressed in the countenance, the seat and mirror of what passes in the soul. Does it not often happen, that the blood, according to its being put in motion by different passions, some- limes covers the face with a sudden and modest blush, sometimes enflames it with the heat of rage and fury, sometimes retires, leaving it pale with fear, and at others, diffuses a calm and amiable serenity over it? All these affec- tions are strongly imagined and distinguished in the lineaments of the lace. The mask deprives the features of this energy of language, and of that life and soul by which it is the faithful interpreter of all the sentiments of the heait. I do not wonder, therefore, at Cicero's remark upon the action of Roscijus. "Our ancestors," says he, "were better judges than we are. They could not wholly approve even of Roscius himself, while he performed in a mask. ''J ^^Ischylus was in the sole possession of the glory of the stage, with almost every voice ia his favour, when a young rival made his appearance to dispute the palm \viih him. This was Sophocles. He was born at Colonos, a town in Attica, in the second year of the 71st Olympiad. His father was a black- smith, or one that kept people of that trade to work for him. His first c-ssay was a masterpiece. When, upon the occasion of Cymon having found the bo lies of Theseus, and their being brought to Athens, a dispute between the tragic poets was appointed, Sophocles entered the lists with ^schylus, and carried the prize against him. The ancient victor, laden till then with the wreaths he had acquired, believed them all lost by failing of the last, and witii- drew in disgust into Sicily to king Hiero, the protector and patron of all the learned in disgrace at Athens. He died there soon after, in a very singular manner, if we may believe S'uidas. As he lay asleep in the fields, with his head bare,^an eagle, taking his bald crown .v^ a stone, let a to. toise fall upon it, which killed him. Of ninety, or at least seventy tragedies, composed Mim, only seven are now extant. Nor have those of Sophocles escaped the iiyury of time better, though nw: Bridles wild rage, loves rigid hcxnestr, And strict observance cf impartial laws. Sobriety, security and peace ; And begs the gods to turn blind fortunes wheel. To raise the wretched, and pull down the proud ; But nothing must be sung between the acts, But what some way conduces to the plot. Roscom Art of Poetry. * Vol. IV. f Manner of Teaching, &c. Vol. IV. I Uluo melius nostrl illi seiaes, qui personatuna, ne Roscium quidem, mag-ivDpere laudabanl, — Lib. iU. dm Orat. 0.921 ^ * 64 INTRODUCTION. hundred and seventeen in number, and, according to some, one hu!/dred and thirty. He retained, to extreme old age, all the force and vigour of his genius, as appears from a circumstance in his history. His children, unworthy of so ^reat a father, under pretence that he had lost his senses, summoned fiim be- <«re the judges, in order to obtain a decree, that his estate might be taken from him, and put into their hands. He made no other defence than to read a tragedy he was at that time composing, called CEdipus at Colonos, with which the judges were so charmed, that he carried his cause unanimously : and his children, detested by the whole assembly, got nothing by their suit, but the shame and infamy due to such flagrant ingratitude. He was twenty times crowned victor. Some say he expired in repeating his Antigone, for want of power to recover his breath, after a violent endeavour to pronounce a long pe^* riod to the end. Others, that he died of joy upon his being declared victor, contrary to his expectations. The figure of a hive was placed upon his tomb, to perpetuate the name of bee, which had been given him from the sweetness of his? verses ; whence, it is probable, the notion was derived, of the bees having settled upon his lips when in his cradle. He died in his ninetieth year the fourth of the ninety-third Olympiad,* after having survived Euripides six years, who was not so old as himself. The latter was born in the first year of the seventy-fifth Olympiad,! at Sa- • lamis, whither his father Menesarchus and his mother Clito had retired, when Xerxes was preparing for his great expedition against Greece. He applied himself at first to philosophy, and among others, had the celebrated Anaxago- ras for his master. But the danger incurred by that great man, who was very near being made the victim of his philosophical tenets, inclined him to the study of poetry. He discovered in himself a genius for the drama, unknown to him at first ; and employed it with such success, that he entered the lists with the greatest masters, of whom we have been speaking. His works srf- (iciently denote his profound application to philosophy. J They abound with excellent maxims of morality ; and it is in that view, Socrates in his time, and Cicero long after him, set so high a value upon Euripides. § One cannot sufiiciently admire the extreme delicacy expressed by the Athe- nian audience on certain occasions, and their solicitude to preserve the reve* rence due to morality, virtue, decency, and justice. It is surprising to observe i>he warmth with which they unanimously reproved whatever seemed incon- sistent with the.m, and called the poet to an account for it, notwithstanding his having the best founded excuse, giving such sentiments only to persons noto- riously vicious, and actuated by the most unjust passions. Euripides had put into the mouth of Beilerophon a pompous panegyric upon riches, which concluded with this thought : Riches are the supreme good of the human race, .rnd with reason excite the admiration of the gods and men. The whole theatre cried out against these expressions, and he would have been banished directly, if he had not desired the sentence to be respited till the conclusion of the piece, in which the advocate for riches perished miserably. He was in danger of incurring serious inconveniences from an answer he puts into the mouth of Hippolytus. Phraedra's nurse represented to him, that he bad engaged himself under an inviolable oath to keep her secret. My tongue^ it is true pronounced that oath, replied he, hut my heart gave no consent to it. This frivolous distinction appeared to the whole people, as an express contempt cl* religion and the sanctity of an oath, that tended to banish all sincerity and good faith from society and the commerce of life. Another maxim advanced by Eteocles in a tragedy called the Phoenicians-, and which Caesar had always in his mouth, is no less pernicious. If justice tnay be violated at all, it is when a throne is m question; in other respects let it * A. M. S599. Ant. J. C. 405. t A. M. 3524. Ant. J. C. 480. 1 JUntentiis densuB, et id lis quas a «apientibus sunt, pcne ipsis c«t par. — Q,ulntil. lib. x. c. 1. I Cui (Euripidi) quantam <»«cda8 oescio; eg'o cei-te •mg'ula testimonia puto. — Fpis* 'it. 1 14. Ii<)l Faaifk LNTICODCC J'lUN. »• duly revered.* It is Lighly criminal in Eleocles, or rather in Eurrpidci, says CLcero, to make an exception in that very point, wherein such violation iS the highest crime that can be committed. Eteocles is a tyrant, and speaks like a tyrant, who vindicates his unjust conduct by a false maxim ; and it is not strange, that Caesar-^ who was a tyrant by nature, and equally unjust, should lay great stress upon the sent'Liients of a prince whom he so much resembled. But what is remarkable in Cicero, is his falling upon the poet himself, and im- puting to him as a crime, the Laving advanced so pernicious a principle upon the stage. Lycui^us, the orator, who lived in the time of Philip and Alexander the Great, to reanimate the spirit of the tragic poets, caused three statues of bras* *o be erected in the name of the people to ^schylus, Sophocles, and Euripi^ des ; and having ordered their works to be transcribed, he appointed them tc be carefully preserved among the public archives, from whence they were taker from time to time to be read ; the players not being permitted to represent them on the stage. The reader expects, no doubt, after what has been said relating to the three poets who invented, improved and carried tragedy to its perfection, that I should discourse upon the peculiar excellencies of their style and character. For that 1 must refer to Father Brumoi, who will do it much better than it is in niy power. After having laid down, as an undoubted principle, that the epic poet, that is to say. Homer, pointed out the way for the tragic poets, and having demonstrated, by reflections drawn from h-uman nature, upon what prin- ciples, and by what degrees, this happy imitation was conducted to its end, he goes on to describe the three poets above-mentioned, in the most lively and shining colours. Tragedy took at first, from iEschylus its inventor, a much more lofty style thai: the ll.'iad ; that is, the magnum loqui mentioned by Horace. Perhaps iEschylus, who was its author, was too pompous, and carried the tragic style too high. It is not Homer's trumpet, but something more. His pompous, fiwellmg, gigantic diction, resembles rather the beating of drums and the shouts of brittle, than the nobler harmony and silver sound of the trumpet. The elevation and grandeur of his genius would not permit him to speak the lan- guage of other men, so that his muse seemed rather to w^alk on stilts, than in the buskins of his own invention. Sophocles understood much better the true excellence of the dramatic style : he therefore^ copies Homer more closely, and blends in his diction that honeye-d sweetness, from whence he was denominated the bee^ with a gravity that gives his tragedy the modest air of a matron, compelled to appear in public with dignity, as Horace expresses it. The style of Euripides, though noble, is less removed from the familiar; and he seems to have affected rather the pathetic and the elegant, than the ner- vous and the lofty. As Corneille, says M. Brumoi in another place, af^er having opened to him self a path entirely new and unknown to the ancients, seems like an eagle tow- ering in the clouds, from the sublimity, force, unbroken progress, and rapidity of his flight; and as Racine, in copying the ancients, in a manner entirely his owTj, imitates the swan, that sometimes floats upon the air, sometimes rises, then falls again with an eleorance of motion, and a grace peculiar to herself; so iEschylus, Sophocles, and Euiipides, have each of them a particular and cha- racteiistic method. The first, as the inventor and father of tragedy, is like a torrent rolli ^ impetuously over rocks, forests, and precipices ; the second * Ipie a-jtem .ocer (C^^sar) in ore semper G razees versus Eiiripidis de Poenlssis habebat, qnos dicara ii< potero, incondite fortasie, sed tamen iit res ]icssit intelli^^i : Nam, si viohindnm est jus, re^nandi i^ralia Violandum est- aliis rebus ])ietatem colas. Capitalis Eteocl-s, vel potiiis F.urij^ides qui id iinum, qpod omnium scelcratissi rPum fuerat. eae«p*' »♦«.— Offic I. lii. Q.ni. Vol. I. 66 LNTRODUirriOiN. resembles a canal,which flows gently through delicious gardens and the third a river, that does not follow its course in a continual line, but loves to turn and wind its silver wave through flowery meads and rural scenes. This is the character M. Brumoi gives of the three poets to whom the Athenian stage was indebted for its perfection in tragedy. iEschylus drew it out of its original chaos and confusion, and made it appear in some degree of lustre ; but it still retained the rude unfinished air of things in their beginning, which are generally defective in point of art or method.j Sophocles and Eu- ripides added infinitely tc the dignity of tragedy. The style of the first, as has been observed, is nnore noble and majestic ; of the latter, more tender and pathetic ; each perfect in its way. In this diversity of character, it is diffi- cult to decide which is most excellent. The learned have always been di\ ided upon this head; as we are at this day, in regard to the two poets of our own nation, whose tragedies have made our stage illustrious, and not inferior to that of Athens.^ I have observed, that tenderness and pathos distinguish the compositions of Euripides, of which Alexander of Pherae, the mxst cruel of tyrants, gave a striking proof. That barbarous man, upon seeing the Troades of Euripides acted, found himself so moved with it, that he quitted the theatre before the conclusion of the play, professing that he was ashamed to be seen in teirs foi the distress of Hecuba and Andromache, when he had never shown the ieasf compassion for his own citizens, of whom he had butchered such numbers. When I speak of tenderness and pathos, I would not be understood to mean a passion that softens the heart into effeminacy, and which, to our reproach, is almost solely confined to our stage, though rejected by the ancients, and con- demned by the nations around us of greatest reputation for their genius, and faste in science and polite learning. The two great principles for moving the passions among the ancients, were terror and pity.§ And indeed, as we na- turally determine every thing from its relation to ourselves, or our particular interest, when we see persons of exalted rank or virtue sinking under great evils, the fear of the like misfortunes, with v/hich we know that human life is on all sides invested, seizes upon us, and, from a secret impulse of s?lf-love, we find ourselves sensibly affected with the distresses of others : besides which, the sharing a common nature with the rest of our species, makes us sensible to whatever befals them.li Upon a close and attentive inquiry into those two passions, they will be found the most deeply inherent, active, ex- tensive, and general affections of the soul ; including all orders of men, grea*i and small, rich and poor, of whatever age or condition. Hence the ancieirts, accustomed to consult nature, and to take her for their guide in all things, con- ceived terror and compassion to be the soul of tragedy ; and for this reason, that those affections ought to prevail in it. The passion of love was in no es- timation among them, and had seldom any share in their dramatic pieces ; though with us it is a received opinion, that they cannot be supported with- out it. It is worth our trouble to examine briefly in what manner this passion, which has always been deemed a weakness and a blemish in the greatest cha- racters, got such footing upon our stage. Corneille, who was the first wh© brought the French tragedy to any perfection, and whom all the rest have fol« lowed, found the whole nation enamoured to madness with the perusal of ro- mances, and little disposed to admire any thing not resembling them. From the desire of pleasing his audience, who were at the same time his judges, he endeavoured to move them in the same manner as they had been accus- * I know not whether the idea of a canal, that flows gently through delicious gardens, may properlj ilcscribe the .character of Sophocles, which is peculijirly dislin2;uished by nobleness, {grandeur, and eleva- tion. That of an impetuous and rapid streann, whose waves, from the violence of iheir motion, are loud, and to be heard afar off, serms to me a more suitable image of that poet. I Tragedias ])rimus in lucem jl^'schylus protulit : subliniis, ct cTi.vis, el grandiloquus sa;pe usque ad data ; »ed rudig in plerisquc et incompositus.— Q,ulntil. rorMillo and Racine. { o€oJ $ 'iA,fo<. f lon.o s'ji i : H».«u .ni ulhil a ine alienum puto INTRODUCTION. 67 tomed to be affected ; aid by introducing love in his scenes, to bring them the nearer to the predominant taste of the age for romance. From the same source arose that multiplicity of incidents, episodes, and adventures, with which our tragic pieces are crowded and obscured, so contrary to probability, which will not admit such a number of extraordinary and surprising events in the short space of four-and-twenty hours ; so contrary to the simplicity of ancient tragedy, and so adapted to conceal, in the assemblage of so many dif- ferent objects, the sterility of the genius of a poet, more intent upon the mar- velous, than upon the probable and natural. Both the Greeks and Romans have preferred the iambic to the heroic verse in their tragedies ; not only because the first has a kind of dignity better adapted to the stage, but while it approaches nearer to prose, retains suffi- riently the air of poetry to please the ear ; and yet has too little of it to put the audience in mind of the poet, who ought not to appear at all in representa- tions, v/here other Persons are supposed to speak and act. Monsieur Dacier makes a very just reilection on this subject. He says, that it is the misfor- tune of our tragedy to have almost no other verse than what it has in com- mon with epic poetry, elegy, pastoral, satire, and comedy ; whereas the learned langu^fes have a great variety of versification. This inconvenience is highly obvious in the French tragedy ; which neces- sarily loses sight of nature and probability, as it obliges heroes, princes, kings, and queens, to express themselves in a pompous strain in their familiar conversation, which it would be ridiculous to attempt in real life. Thf giving utterance to the most impetuous passions in a uniform cadence, and by hem- istichs and rhymes, would undoubtedly be tedious and offensive to the ear, if the charms of poetry, the elegance of expression, the spirit of the sentiments, and, perhaps, more than all, the res'stless force of custom, had not in a man- ner subjected our reason, and spread a veil before our judgement. It was not chance, therefore, which suggested to the Greeks the use oS iam- bics in their tragedy. Nature itself seems to have dictated that kind of verse to them. Instructed by the same unerring guide, they made choice of a dif- ferent versification for the chorus, better adapted to the motions of the dance, and the variations of the song ; because it was necessary for poetry to shine out in all its lustre, while the mere conversation between the real actors was suspended. The chorus was an embellishment of the representation, and a relaxation to the audience, and therefore required more exalted poetry and numbers to support it, when united with music and dancing. OF THE ANCIENT, MIEDLE, AND NEW COMEDY. While tragedy was thus rising in perfection at Athens, comedy, the second species of dramatic poetry, and which, till then, had been much neglected, began to be cultivated with more attention. Nature was the common parent of Doth. We are sensibly affected with the dangers, distresses, misfortunes, and, in a word, with whatever relates to the lives and conduct of illustrious persons ; and this gave birth to tragedy. We are as curious to know the ad- ventures, conduct, and defects of our equals, which supply us with occasions of laughing, and being merry at the expense of others. Hence originated comedy, which is properly an image of private life. Its design is to expose d?fects and \ice upon the stage, and by ridiculing them, to make them con- temptible ; and consequently to instruct by diverting. Ridicule, therefore, (or, to express the same word by another, pleasantry,) ought to prevail in comedy. This species of entertainment took, at different times, three different forms it Athens, as well from the genius of the poets, as from the influence of the ^^overnment ; which occasioned various alterations in it. ^ The ancient comedy, so called by Horace, and which h^ dates after the ime of ^schylus, retained something of its original rudenes.^, and tne liber W it had been used to take of coarse jesting and reviling spectators, from th« 68 fNIROOUCtlON. cart of Thespis.* Though it was become regular in its plan, and worthy oi a great theatre, it had not learnt to be more reserved. It represented reai transactions, with the names, habits, gestures, and likeness in masks, of whom* soever it thought fit to sacrifice to the public diversion. In a state where ii was held good policy to unmask whatever carried the air of ambition, singu- larity or knavery, comedy assumed the privilege to harangue, reform, and ad vise the people, upon the most important occasions and interests. No om was spared in a city of so much liberty, or rather license, as Athens was at that time. Generals, magistrates, government, the very gods, were aban- doned to the poet's satirical vein ; and all was well received, provided the comedy was diverting, and the Attic salt not wanting. In one of these comedies, not only the priest i>f Jupiter determines to quit his service, because no more sacrifices are offered to the god ; but Mercury himself comes in a starving condition, to seek his fortune among mankind, and offers to serve as a porter, sutler, bailiff, guide, door-keeper ; in short, in any capacity, rather than to return to heaven. t In another,! the samiC gods, re- duced to the extremity of famine, from the birds having built a city in the air, whereby their provisions are cut off, and the smoke of incense and sacrifices prevented from ascending to heaven, depute three ambassadors in the name of Jupiter to conclude a treaty of accommodation with the birds, upon such conditions as they shall approve. The chamber of audience, where the three famished gods are received, is a kitchen well stored with excellent game of all sorts. Here Hercules, deeply smitten with the smell of roast meat, which he apprehends to be more exquisite and nutri-tious than that of incense, begs leave to make his abode, and to turn the spit, and assist the cook upon occa- sions. The other pieces of Aristophanes abound with strokes still more sati- rical and severe upon the principal divinities, I am not much surprised at the poet's insulting the gods, and treating thenj with the utmost contempt, from whom he had nothing to fear ; but I cannot help wondering at his having brought the miOst illustrious and powerfiil per- sons of Athens upon the stage, and that he presumed to attack the govern- ment itself, without any manner of respect or reserve. Cleon, having returned triumphant, contrary to the general expectation, from the expedition against Sphacteria, was looked upon by the people as the greatest captain of that age. Aristophanes, to set that bad man in a true lights who was the son of a currier, and a currier himself, and whose rise was owing solely to his temerity and imprudence, was so bold as to make him the subject of a comedy ,§ without being awed by his power and influence : but he was obliged to play the part of Cleon himself, and appeared, for the first time upon the stage, in that character ; not ones of the commedians daring to represent him, or to expose himself to the resentment of so formidable an ene- my. His face was smeared over with wine-lees ; because no workman could be found that would venture to make a mask resembling Cleon, as was usual when persons were brought upon the stage. In this piece he reproaches him with embezzling the public treasures, with a violent passion for bribes and presents, with craft in seducing the people, and denies him the glory of the action at Sphacteria, which he attributes chiefly to the share his colleague had in it. In the Achamians^ he accuses Lamachus of having been made general rather by bribery than merit. He imputes to him his youth, inexperience, and idleness ; at the same time that he, and many others, whom k^, rcvertiy designates, convert to their own use the rewards due only to valour rnd real services. He reproaches the republic with their preference of th«* yoi.w*;r Citizens to the elcler in the government of the state, and the cominanuti* Vheuf * Successit velus his Cornoedia non sine multa ijni;d a Socrates, declared by Apollo the wisest of mankind,) is brou2:ht upon the stage to be laughed at by the public, it is as if our Plautus, oi Naevius, had attacked the Scipios, or Csecilius had dared to revile Marcuf Cato in his writmgs.t * The Peaces. t ilia Ban attig^it, ^tiui quew «on yexavit ? £«t^ popalarei iMnuaet. uspoi^at, ii TO INTRODUCTION. That liberty is still more offensive to us, who are torn in, and live under, & monarchical government, which is far from beinff favourable to licentiousness. But without intending to justify the conduct oi Ariftcphanes, which is cer- tainly inexcusable, I think, to judge properly of it, it would be necessary to lay aside the prejudices of nations, and times, and to imagine we live in those remote ages in a state purely democratical. We must not fancy Aristophanes to have been a person of little consequence in his republic, as the comic wri- ters generally are in our days. The 'King of Persia had a very diffeient idea of him. It is a known story, that in an audience of the Greet ambassadors, his first inquiry was after a certain comic poet (meaning Aristophanes) that put ail Greece in motion, and gave such effectual counsels against him.* Aristo- phanes did ihat upon the stage, which Demosthenes did afterwards in tli^ public ."isseniblies. The poet's reproaches were no less animated than the orator's. In his comedies he uttered the same sentiments as he had a right to deliver from the public rostrum. They were addressed to the same people, upon the same occasions of the state, the same means of success, and the same obstacles to their measures. In Athens the whole people were the sovereign, and each of them had an equal share in the supreme authority. Upon this they were continually intent, were fond of discoursing upon it themselves, and 4)f hearing the sentiments of others. The public affairs were the business of eveiy individual ; in which they were desirous of being fully informed, that they might know how to conduct themselves on every occasion of war or peace, which frequently offered, and to decide upon their own, as well as upon the destiny of iheir allies or enemies. Hence arose the liberty taken by the comic poets, of discussing the affairs of the state in their performances. The people were so far from being offended at it, or at the manner in which those writers treated the principal persons of the state, that they conceived their liberty in some measure to consist in it. Three poets particularly excelled in the ancient comedy ; Eupolis, Crati* nus, and Aristophanes.j The last is the only one of them whose pieces have come down to us entire, and out of the great number of those, eleven are all that remain. He flourished in an age when Greece abounded with great men and was contemporaiy with Socrates and Euripides, whom he survived. Du- ring the Peloponnesian war, he made his greatest figure ; less as a writer tc amuse the people with his comedies, than as a censor of the government, re- tained to reform the state, and to be almost the arbiter of his country. He is admired for an elegance, poignancy, and happiness of expression, or, in a word, that Attic salt and spirit, to which the Roman language couW never attain, and for which Aristophanes is m.cre remarkable than any other of the Greek authors.J His particular excellence was raillery. None ever touched what was ridiculous in the characters whom he wished to expose with such seditiosos, Cleoncm, Cleophontem, Iiyperbolum Isesit ; patiamur — Sed Periclem, cum jam suae civ itati maxima auctoritate plurinics anncs donii et bclii prasfuisset, violari versibus, et eos ag-i in scena, non p'ta iccuit, quam si Plautus noster voluisset, aut Najvius P. et Cn. Scipioni, aut Caecilius M. Catoni onale^^ l*fe.— Ex. fragm. Cic. de Rep. lib. iv. * Aristoph. In Acharn. t Eupolis* atque Cratinus, Aristophanesque poetse, Atque alii, quorum Comcedia prisca virorum «8t, i?i quis erat dignus describi, quod malus aut fur, Quod mcechu* foret, aut sicarius aut aliot^ui Famosus ; multa cum libertate notabaut Hor. Sat L i With Aristophanes* satiric mg-e. When ancient comedy amus'd the fcgc. Or Eupolis', or Cratinus*s wit. And others that all-licensM poem writ ; ^one, worthy to be shown, escapM the scene. No public knave, or thief of lofty mien; The loose adultVer was drawn forth to sight; The secret murd'rer trembling lurk'd the night ; Vice play'd itself and eacli ambitious spark, All boldly branded with the poet's mark. i Aatklua comocdia sinceram illam scrmonis Attici j^ratiam prop< sola retUMt— ^olfltil. INTRODUCTION. 7j Burcess, or knew better how to convey it in all its force to others. But it would be necessary to have lived in his times to judge with taste of his works. The subtle salt and spirit of the ancient raillery, according to M. Brumoi, is evaporated through length of time, and what remains of it is become flat and insipid to us ; though the sharpest part will retain its vigour throughout all ages. Two considerable defects are justly imputed to this poet, which very much obscure, if not entirely efface his glory. These are, low buffoonery and gross obscenity ; which defects have been excused to no purpose, from the charac- ter of his audience ; the bulk of which generally consisted of the poor, the Ignorant, and dregs of the people, whom however it was as necessary to please as the. learned and the rich. The depravity of taste in the lower order of people, which once banished Cratinus and his company, because his scenes were not grossly comic enough for them, is no excuse for Aristophanes, as Menander could find out the art of changing that grovelling taste, by intro- ducing a species of comedy, not altogether so modest as Plutarch seems to in- sinuate, yet much less licentious than any before his time. The gross obscenities with which all Aristophanes's comedies abound, have no excuse ; they only denote an excessive libertinism in the spectators, and depravity in the poet. Had his works been remarkable for the utmost wit, which however is not the case, the privilege of laughing himself, or of making others laugh, would have been too dearly purchased at the expense of decency and good manners.* And in this case it may well be said, that it were better to have no wit at all, than to make so ill a use of it."]' M. Brumoi is very much to be commended for having taken care, in giving a general idea of Aristophanes's writings, to throw a veil over those parts of them that might have given offence to modesty. Though such behaviour be the indispensable rule of religion, it is not always observed by those who pique themselves most on their erudition, and sometimes prefer the title of scholar to that of Ciiristian. The old comedy subsisted till Lysander's time, who, upon having made him- self master of Athens, changed the form of the government, and put it into the hands of thirty of the principal citizens. The satirical liberty of the theatre was offensive to them, and therefore they thought fit to put a stop to it. The reason of this alteration is evident, and confirms the reflection made before, upon the privilege of the poets to criticise with impunity the persons at the head of the state. The whole authority of Athens was then invested m tyrants. The democracy was abolished. The people had no longer any share in the government. They were no more the prince ; their sovereignty had expired. The right of giving their opinions and suffrages upon affairs of state was at an end ; nor dared they, either in their own persons or by the poets, presume \o censure the sentiments or conduct of their masters. The calling persons by their names upon the stage was prohibited ; but the poetical ill nature soon I found the secret of eluding the intention of the law, and of making itnelf ; amends for the restraint which was imposed upon it by the necessity of using \ feigned nanies. It then applied itself to discover the ridiculous in known cha- racters, which it copied to the life, and froir, thence acquired the double ad- vantage of gratifying the vanity of the poets, and the malice of the audience, in a more refined manner ; the one had the delicate pleasure of putting the spectators upon guessing their meaning, and the other of not being mistaken in their suppositions, and of affixing the right name to the characters repre- sented. Such was the comedy since called the middk comedy^ of which there -^re some instances in Aristophanes. It continued till the time of Alexander the Great, who, having entirely as- sured himself of the empire of Greece, by the defeat of the Thebans, caused a check to be put upon the license of the poets j which increased daily. From • Nfmium rUus pretiutn est, siProbitatisimpendio constat. — <chylus was the first founder of a fixed and durable theatre, adorned with suitable decorations. It was at first, as well as the amphitheatres, composed of wooden planks, the seats of which rose one abcve another ; but those breaking down, by having too great a weight upon them, the Athenians, excessively enamoured with dramatic representation, were induced by that accident to erect those superb structures, w^hich were imitated afterwards with so much splendour by the Roman magnificence. What I shall ^ay of them has almost as much relation to the Roman as the Athenian thea- tres; and is extracted entirely from M. Boindin's learned dissertation upon the theatre of the ancients, who has treated the subject in its fullest extent.^ The theatre of the ancients Vv as divided into three principal parts ; each of which had its peculiar appellation. The division for the actors was called in general the scene, or stoge ; that for the spectators v/as particularly termed the theatre, which must have been of vast extent, ll as at Athens it was capable of containing above thirty thousand persons ; and the orchestra, which am.ong the Greeks was the place assigned for the pantomimes and dancers, though at Home it was appropriated to the senators and vestal virgins. The theatre w^as of a semicircular form on one side, and square on the other. 1 he space contained within the semicircle was allotted to the spectators, ami had seats placed one above another to the top of the building. The square part, in the front of it, was appropriated to the actors ; and in the interval, between both, was the orchestra. The ^reat theatres had three rows of porticoes, raised one upon another, which formed the body of the edifice, and at the same time three different stories for the seats. From the highest of these porticoes the women saw the * Bolleau Art. Poet. Chant, iii. Atque ille quidem omnibus ejusdem operis auctoribus abstulit nomen, et fulgore quodam suae clAritaui iBBebraa obduxit. — Q,uintil. lib. x. c. 1. % Q,aidiun, sicut Menander, justiora posterorum, quam suas setatis, judicia sunt consecuti.-— Q,uintil. Hbw iUc. 6. ^ Memoirs of the Academy of Inscript. &c. vol. 1. p. 136, &c. II Strab. lib. ix. p. 395. Herod, lib. viii. c. 65 INTROOUCTfON. 73 r«presentalion, corered from the weather. The rest of the theatre vrag uftr covered, and ail the business of the stage was performed in the open air. Each of these siories consisted of nine rows of seats, including the landing- place, which divided them from each other, and served as a passage from side to side. But as this landing-place and passage took up the space of iwu benches, there were only seven to sit upon, and consequently in each story • there were seven rows of seats. They were from fifteen to eighteen inches it height, and twice as much in breadth ; so that the spectators had room to si' with their legs extended, and without being incommoded by those of the peo- ple above them, no foot boards being provided for them. Each of these stories of benches was divided in two different manners ; *;> their height by the landing-places, called by the Romans prcecindiones^ and hi. their circumferences by several stair cases, peculiar to each story, which inter- secting them in right lines, tending towards the centre of the theatre, gave the form of wedges to the ranges of seats between them, from whence they were called cunei. Behind these storirs of sea*s were covered galleries, through which the peo- ple thronged into the theatre by great square openings, contrived for that pur- pose in the walls next the seats. Those openings were called vomitoria^ from the multitude of the people crowding through them into their places. As the actors could not be heard to the extremity of the theatre, the Greeks contrived a means to supply that defect, and to augment the force of the voice, and make it more distinct and articulate. For that purpose they invented a kind of large vessels of copper, which were disposed under the seats of the tlieatre in such a manner, as made all sounds strike upon the ear with more force and distinctness. The orchestra being situated, as I have observed, between the two other parts of the theatre, of which one was circular and the other square, it partici- pated of the form of each, and occupied the space between both. It was divided into three parts. The first and most considerable was more particularly called the orchestra, from a Greek word that signifies to dance.* It was appropriated to the pan- tomimes and dancers, and to all such subaltern actors as played between the acts, and at the end of the representations. The second was named ^uu^xn, from its being square, in the form of an altar, Here the chorus was generally placed. And in the third, the Greeks generally disposed their symphony or b?»nd ol music. They called it uttotxtivi^v, from its being situated at the bottom of the principal part of the theatre, which they stylea the scene. I shall describe here this third part of the theatre, called the scene ; which was also subdivided into three different parts. The first and most considerable was properly called the scene, and gave name to this division. It occupied the whole front of the building jfrom side to side, and was the place allotted for the decorations. This front had two small wings at its extremity, from which hung a large curtain, that was let ■Cxmn to open the scene, and drawn up between the acts, when any thing sfi the representation made it necessary. The second, called by the Greeks indifferently Tr^oo-xrivt-v, and ^o7?rov, and by the Romans j9ro5CcmM77i, and pulpitum^ was a large open space in front of tiie scene, in which the actors performed their parts, and which, by the help of the decorations, represented either the public place or forum, a common street, or ..he country ; but the place so represented w^as always in the open air. The third division was a part reserved behind the scenes, and called by the Greeks jra^acrxnviov. Here the actors dressed themselves, and the deco- rations were locked up. In the same place were also kept tho machines of irhich the ancients had abundance in their theatres. 4 74 ^ iMl'RODUCTlClf. As only the porticoes rjid the building of iLe scene were iwfed, It was necessai^" to draw sails, fastened with cords to masts over the rest of tiie theatre, to screen the audience from the heat of the sun. But, as this CDn- trivance did not prevent the heat occasioned by the perspiration and breath of so numerous an assembly, the ancients took care to allay it by a kind of rain, * conveying the water for that use above the porticoes, which falling again in form of dew through an infinity of small pores, concealed in the statues with which the theatre abounded, did nut only diffuse a grateful coolness all around, but the most fragrant exhalations along with it ; for this dew was always per- fumed. Whenever the rc^presentations were interrupted by storms, the sper la tors retired into the porticoes behind the seats of the theatre. The passion of the Athenians for representations of this kind, is inconceira- ble. Their eyes, their ears, their imagination, their understanding, all shared in the satisfaction. Nothing gave them so sensible a pleasure in dramatic {Performances, either tragic or comic, as the strokes which were aimed at the affairs of the public, whether pure chance occasioned the application, or the address of the poets, who knew how to reconcile the most remote subjects with the transactions of the republic. They entered by that means into the interests of the people, took occasion to soothe their passions, authorize their pretensions, justify and sometimes condemn their conduct, entertain them with agreeable hopes, instruct them in their duty, in certain nice conjunctures; the effect of which was, that they often not only acquired the applauses of the spectators, but credit and influence in the public affairs and councils ; hence .he theatre became so grateful, and so much the concern of the people. It was in thi^ manner, according to some authors, that Euripides artfully adapted nis tragedy of Palamedes* with the sentence passed against Socrates, and explained, by an illustrious example of antiquity, the innocence of a philoso- pher, oppressed by a vile malignity supported against him by power and faction. Accident was often the occasion of sudden and unforeseen applicationSj which, from their appositeness were very agreeable to the people. Upon this verse of ^^^schylus in praise of Amphiaraus, — — — *Tia his desire Not to appear, but be the great and good. the whole audience rose up, and unanimously applied it to Aristides.t The game thing happened to Philopoemen at the Nemaen games. At the instant he entered the theatre, these verses were singing upon the stage, He comes, to whom we owe Our l.berty, the noblest ^ood below. All die Greeks cast their eyes upon Philopoemen,^ and with clapping of hands, and acclamations of joy, expressed their veneration for the hero. In the same manner, at Rome during the banishment of Cicero,§ when some \ erses of Accius,|| which reproached the Greeks with their ingratitude in suf- fei ing the banishment of Telamon, were repeated by -^sop, the best actor of his time, they drew tears from the eyes of the whole assembly. Upon another, though very diiferent occasion, the Roman people applied te F^ciijpey the Great some verses to this effect : 'Til our unhappiness has msde thee great and then addressing ihe people, TY^ tim« shall come when you sh?ll late deplore So ^rcat a power confided to such hands ; . the spectators obliged the actor to repeat these verses several times* • It is not certain whether this piece was px'ior or posterior to the death of Socratet. f Plar. in Aristid. p. 330. X Plut. in Philopoem. p. 362. ^ Cic. in Orat. pro Sext n. 130, ISH H O ingratifici Argivi, inanes Graii, immemores beneficii. Fjiularc sivistis, sivistis pclli, vnlsiim patimini. H Cic. ad Attic. 1. ii. Eplst 19 Val. Max. 1. vi. c «. INTRODUCTION. rONDNGSS FOR THEATRICAL REPRESENTATIONS, ONE OF THE PRINCIPAI CAUSES OF THE DECLINE, DEGERERACY, AND CORRUPTION OF THE ATHEN- IAN STATE. When we compare the happy times of Greece, in which Europe and Asia resounded with nothing but the fame of the Athenian victories, with the latter Ages, when the power of Philip and Alexander the Great had in a manner subjected it, we shall be surprised at the strange alteration in the affairs of that republic. But what is most material is the investigation of the causes and progress of this declension ; and these M. de Tourreil has discussed in an admirable manner, in th^ elegant preface to his translation of Demosthenes's orations. There were no longer at Athens any traces of that manly and vigorous policy equally capable of planning good, and retrieving bad success. Instead of that, there remained only an inconsistent loftiness, apt to evaporate in pompous decrees. They were no more*those Athenians, who, when menaced by a deluge of barbarians, demolished their houses to build ships with the timber, and whose women stoned the abject wretch to death, that proposed to appease the grand monarch by tribute or homage. The love of ease and pleasure had almost extinguished that of glory, liberty, and independence. Pericles, that great man, so absolute that those who envied him treated him as a second Pisistratus, was the first author of this degeneracy and corruption. With the design of conciliating the favour of the people, he ordained, that upon such days as games or sacrifices w^re celebrated, a certain number of oboli should be distributed among them ; and that, in the assemblies in which affairs of state were to be discussed, every individual should receive a certain pecuniary gratification in right of being present. Thus the members of the republic were seen for the first time to sell their care in the administration of the government, and to rank among servile employments the most noble functions of the sove-reign power. It was not difficult to foresee where so excessive an abuse would end ; and to remedy it, it was proposed to establish a fund for the support of the war, and to ma4ce it capital to advise upon any account whatsoever, the application of it to other uses; but notwithstanding, the abuse always subsisted. At first it seemed tolerable, while the citizen, who was supported at the public expense, endeavoured to deserve its liberality, by doing his duty in the field for nine months together. Every one was to serve in his turn, and whoever failed was treated as a deserter, without distinction ; but at length the num- ber of the transgressors carried it against the law, and impunity, as it commonly happens, multiplied their number. People accustomed to the delightful abode of a city where feasts and games ran in a perpetual circle, conceived an in- vincible repugnance for labour and fatigue, which they looked upon as un- worthy of freeborn men. It was therefore necessary to find amusement for this indolent people, to fill up the great void of an inactive, useless life. Hence arose principally their passion, or rather frenzy, for public shows. The death of Epaminon- das. which seemed to promise them the greatest advantage, gave the final stroke to their ruin and destruction. " Their courage," says Justin,* "did not survive that illustrious Theban. Free from a rival, who kept their emu- lation alive, they sunk into a lethargic sloth and effeminacy. The funds for annaments by land and sea, were soon lavished upon games and feasts. The pay of the seaman and soldier was distributed to the idle citizen, enervated by Bf)h and luxurious habits of life. The representations of the theatre were preferred to the exercises of the camp. Valour and military knowledge were entirely disregarded. Great captains were in no estimation, while good poets and excellent comedians engrossed universal applause." 76 INTRODUCTION. Extravagance of this kind makes it easy to comprehend in what multituckf the people thronged to dramatic performances. As no expense was spai^d in embellishing them, exorbitant sums were sunk in the service of the theatre. " If," says Plutarch,* " an accurate calculation were to be made, what each representation of the dramatic pieces, cost the Athenians, it would appear, that their expenses in playing the Bacchanalians, the Phoenicians^ Oedipus, Antigone, Medea, and Electra, (tragedies written either by Sophocles or Eu- ripides,) were greater than those which had been employed against the Bar- barians, in defence of the liberty, and for the preservation of Greece. "t Thi5 gave a Spartan just reason to exclaim, on seeing an estimate of the enormous sums laid out in these efforts of the tragic poets, and the extraordinaiT pains taken by the magistrates who presided in them, " That a people must ne void of sense, to apply themselves in so warm and serious a manner to things so frivolous. For," added he, "games should be only games ; and nothing is more unreasonable than to purchase a short and trivial amusement at so great a price. Pleasures of this kind agree only with public rejoicings and seasons of festivity, and were designed to divert people at their leisure hours, but should by no means interfere with the affairs of the public, nor the necessary expenses of the government." "After all," says Plutarch, in a passage which I have already cited, " of what utility have these tragedies been to Athens, though so much boasted by the people, and admired by the rest of the world? We find, that the pru- dence of Themistocles inclosed the city with strong walls ; that the fine taste and magnificence of Pericles improved and adorned it ; that the noble forti- tude of Miltiades preserved its liberty ; and that the moderate conduct of Ci- mon acquired it the empire and government of all Greece." If the wise and learned poetry of Euripides, the sublime diction of Sophocles, the lofty bus- kin of jEschylus, have obtained equal advantages for the city of Athens, by delivering it from impending calamities, or by adding to its glory, I a'm wil- ling, (he adds,) that " dramatic pieces should be placed in competition with trophies of victory, the poetic theatre with the field of battle, and the compo- sitions of the poets with the great exploits of the generals." But what a com- parison would this be ? On the one side would be seen a few writers, crowned with wreaths of ivy, and dragging a goat or an ox after them, the rewards and victims assigned them for excelling in tragic poetry ; on the other, a train of illustrious captains, surrounded with colonies which they founded, the cities which they captured, and the nations which they subjected. It is not to per- petuate the victories of iEschylus and Sophocles, but in remembrance of the glorious battles of Marathon, Salamis, Euiymedon, and many others, that so many feasts are celebrated every month with such pomp by the Grecians. The conclusion which is hence drawn by Plutarch, in which we ought to join him, is, that it was the highest imprudence in the Athenians thus to pre- fer pleasure to duty, the passion for the theatre to the love of their country ,J. trivial representations to application to public business, and to consume, in useless expenses and dramatic entertainments, the funds intended for the sup- port of fleets and armies. Macedon, till then obscure and inconsiderable, well knew how to take advantage of the Athenian indolence and effeminacy ;§ and Philip, instructed by the Greeks themselves, among whom he had for several years applied himself successfully to the art of war, was not long before he gave Greece a master, and subjected it to the yoke, as we shall see in the seauel. 1 am now to open an entirely new scene to the reader's view, not unworthy * Plut. de G lor. Athen. p. 349. t Sytnpos, lib. vii. quest, vii. p. 710. t * A)iajT6Lv«(7)v ^AfinvaToi ixsy^-Ka, rr)v avH5i\v els ihv v-ai5a\av xaravaKivnovrss, r&Tkcri ixe'y&kwt Airoa'r6K(*^v dairavas ka\ CTTjaTfu^drajv tipySia xaraxojTi^ouvTEJ iis to S-farjov- } Q,ulbus rebus effectuin est, ut inter olia Griecorum, sordidum et obscurum antea Mactedonum nomea •mcrjeret; ct Philippus, obses triennio Thebis habltut, Epaminondss et Pelopidas virtutibus eruditus, reg' Mjt3«domaB Graec;» et Asia cervicibus, velut jujum icrvitutis, impoQereL-"Ju8t I. vi. c 9 INTRODUCTION. 77 tiis curiosity and attention. We shall see two states of no great consideration, Media and Persia, extend themselves far and wide, under the conduct of (^y- rus, like a torrent or a conflagration, and with amazing rapidity, conquer and subdue many provinces and kingdoms. We shall see that vast empire setting the nations under its dominion in motion, the Persians, Medes, Phixnicians, Eg;y'ptians, Babylonians, Indians, and many others, and falling, with all the forces of Asia and the East, upon a country of very small extent, and destitute of all foreign assistance, I mean Greece. When, on the one hand, we behold so many nations united together, such preparations for war, made for several years, with so much diligence, innumerable armies by sea and land, and such fleets as the sea could hardly contain; and, on the other hand, two weak cities, Athens and Lacedaemon, abandoned by all their allies, and left almost entirely to themselves, have we not reason to believe, that these two little cities are going to be utterly destroyed and swallowed up by so formida- ble an enemy ; and that no vestages of them will be left remaining ? And yel we shall find that they prove victorious, and, by their invincible courage and the several battles they gained, both by sea and land, will make the Per sian empire lay aside all thoughts of ever again turning their arms agains Greece. The history of the war between the Persians and the Greeks will illustrate the truth of this maxim, that it is hot the number, but the valour of the troops, and the conduct of the generals, on which depends the success of military ex- peditions. The reader will admire the surprising courage and intrepidity of the great men at the head of the Grecian affairs, whom neither all the world in motion against them could deject, nor the greatest misfortunes disconcert ; who undertook, with a handful oif men, to make head against innumerable ar- mies ; who, notwithstanding such a prodigious inequality in forces, durst hope for success ; who even compelled victory to declare on the side of merit and virtue, and taught all succeeding gei>e rations what infinite resources and ex- pedients are to be found in prudence, valour, and experience ; in a zeal for liberty and our country, in the love of our duty, and in all the sentiments of noble and generous souls. This war of the Persians against the Grecians will be followed by another among the latter themselves, but of a very different kind from the former. In the latter, there will scarce be any actions, but what in appearance are of little consequence, and seemingly unworthy of a reader's curiosity, who is fond of great events; in this he will meet with little besides private quarrels between certain cities, or some small commonwealths ; some inconsiderable sieges, (ex- cepting that of Syracuse, one of the most important related in ancient histo- ry,) though several of these sieges were of considerable duration ; some bat- tles between armies, where the numbers were small, and but little blood shed What is it, then, that has rendered these wars so fam.ous in history ? Sallust informs us in these words ; " The actions of the Athenians doubtless were great, and yet I believe they were somewhat less than fame reports them. But because Athens abounded in noble writers, the acts of that republic are celebrated throughout the whole world as the most glorious ; and the gallan- try of those heroes who performed them, has had the good fortune to be thought as transcendant as the eloquence of those who have described them."* Sallust, though jealous enough of the glory the Romans had acquired by a series of distinguished actioas, with which their history abounds ; yet he does justice in this passage to the Grecians, by acknowledging, that their exploits were truly great and illustrious, though somewhat in^rior, in his opinion, to their fanpe. What is, then, this foreign and borrowed lustre, which the Athe- nian actions have derived from the eloquence of their historians ? It is, that ♦ Atheniensium res ^estJe, siciiti e<^o existimo, satis ampljB mag^niScjeque fueruBt ; verum aliquanto mi- Bores, tamen, quam f^ma ft-ri'ntur. Sed quia provenere ibi scriptorum mag-:ia ing-enia, perterrarum orbero Atheniensium facta pro maxirnis celebrantur. Ita eorum, qus fecere, virtas tanU^ habetnr, quantum earn verbis potuere extollere pr»iclara Ingenia. — Sallust. in Bell. Catilia 78 LNTRODUCTIOW. the whole universe agrees in looking upon them as the greatest and most glo- rious that ever were performed. Per terrarum orbem Atheniensium facta pro rnaximis cehhrantur. All nations, seduced and enchanted as it were with the beauties of the Greek authors, think the exploits of that people superior to any other thing that was ever done by any other nation. This, according to Sallust, is the advantage the Athenians have derived from the Greek au- thors, who have thus excellently described their actions ; and very unhappy it is for us, that our history, for want of the like assistance, has left a thousand bright actions and fine sayings unrecorded, which would have been put in the strongest light by the ancient writers, and would have done great honour to our country. But, however this may be, it must be confessed, that we are not always to *udge of the value of an action, or the merit of the persons who shared in it, y the importance of the event. It is rather in such little sieges and engage- ments as we find recorded in the history of the Peloponnesian war, that the conduct and abilities of a general are truly conspicuous. Accordingly it is observed, that it was chiefly at the head of small armies, and in countries of no great extent, that our best generals of the last age displayed their great capacity, and showed themselves not inferior to the most celebrated captains of antiquity. In actions of this sort, chance has no share, and does not cover any oversights that are committed. Every thing is conducted and tarried on by the prudence of the general. He is truly the soul of the army, which nei- ther acts nor moves but by his direction. He sees every thing, and is present every where. Nothing escapes his vigilance and attention. Orders are sea-^ sonably given and seasonably executed. Finesse, stratagems, false marches, real or feigned attacks, encampments, decampments, in a word, every thing, depends upon him alone. On this account, the reading of the Greek historians, such as Thucydides, Xenophon, and Polybius, is of infinite service to young officers ; because those historians, w^ho were also excellent commanders, enter into all the particu- lars of the military art, and lead the readers, as it were by the hand, through all the sieges and battles they describe ; .show'ing them, by the example of the greatest generals of antiquity, and by a kind of anticipated experience, in what manner war is to be carried on. Nor is it only with regard to military exploits, that ttie Grecian history af- fords us such excellent models. We shall there find celebrated legislators, able politicians, magistrates born for government, men who have excelled in all arts and sciences, philosophers that carried their inquiries as far as possible in those early ages, and who have left us such maxims of morality as might put many christians to the blush. If the virtues of those who are celebrated in history may serve us for mo- dels in the conduct of our lives, their vices and failings, on the other hand, are . no less proper to caution and instruct us ; and the strict regard which a his- torian is obliged to pay to truth, will not allow him to dissemble the latter Ihrough fear of eclipsing the lustre of the former. Nor does wiiat I here ad \ ance contradict the rule laid down by Plutarch, on the same subject, in hij * preface to the life of Cimon.* He requires that the illustrious actions of great men be represented in their full light : but as to the faults, which may somc^ times escape them through passion or surprise, or into which they may be drawn by the necessity of affairs,! considering them rather as a certain de- gree of perfection wanting to their virtue, than as vices or crimes that pro- ceed from any corruption of the heart; such imperfections as these, he would have the historian, out of compassion to the w^eakness of human nature, which produces nothing entirely perfect, content himself with touching vei^ lightly ; in ^iie same manner as an able painter, when he has a fine face U * In Cim. p. 479, 480. INTKORUCriO«. 79 iraw, in which he finds some little blemish or defect, does neither entirely suppress it, nor think himself obliged to represent it with a strict exactness because the one would spoil the beauty of the picture, and the other would des^-oy the likeness. The very comparison Plutarch uses, sho\\'s that he speaKf only of slight and excusable faults. But as to actions of injustice, violence, and brutality, they ought not to be concealed or disguised on any account , nor can we suppose that the same privilege should be allowed in history as in painting, which invented the profile to represent the side-face of a prince who had lost an eye, and by that means ingeniously concealed so disagreeable a deformity.* History, the most essential rule of which is sin- cerity, will by no means admit of such indulgences, as indeed would deprive it of its greatest advantage. Shame, reproach, infamy, hatred, and the execrations of the pvblic, which are the inseparable attendants on criminal and brutal actions, are no less proper to excite a horror for vice, than the glory, which perpetually attends good actions, is to inspire- us with the love of virtue. And these, according to Tacitus, are the two ends which every historian ought to propose to him- self, by making a judicious choice of what is most extraordinary both in good and evil, in order to occasion that public homage to be paid to virtue, which is justly due to it ; and to create the greater abhorrence for vice, on account of the eternal infamy that attends it.t The history which I am writing furnishes but too many examples of the latter sort. With respect to the Persians, it will appear by what is said of their kings, that those princes whose power has no viher bounds than those of their will, often abandon themselves to all their passions ; that nothing is more diificult than to resist the delusions of a man's own greatness, and the flatte- ries of those that surround him ; that the liberty of gratifying all one's desires, and of doing evil with impunity, is a dangerous situation ; that the best diposi- tions can hardly withstand such a temptation ; that even after having begun their career favourably, they are insensibly corrupted by softness and effeminacy, by pride, and their aversion to sincere counsels ; and that it rarely happens they are wise enough to consider that, when they find themselves exalted above all laws and restraints, they stand then most in need of moderation and wisdom, both in regard to themselves and others ; and that in such a situation they ought to be doubly wise, and doubly strong, in order to set bounds within, by their reason, to a power that has none without. With respect to the Grecians, the Peloponnesian war will show the misera- ble effects of their intestine divisions, and the fatal excesses into which they were led by their thirst of dominion, scenes of injustice, ingratitude, and per- fidy, together with the open violation of treaties, or mean artifices and un- worthy tricks to elude their execution. It will show, how scandalously the Lacedaemonians and Athenians debased themselves to the barbarians, in order to beg aids of money from them ; how shamefully the great deliverers of Greece renounced the glory of all their past labours and exploits, by stouping and making their court to certain haughty and insolent satraps, and by going successively, with a kind of emulation, to implore the protection of the com- mon enemy, whom they had so often conquered ; and in what manner they employed the succours they obtained from them, in oppressing their ancient allies, and extending their own territories by unjust and violent methods. On both sides, and sometimes in the same person, we shall find a surprising mixture of good and bad, of virtues and vices, of glorious actions and niean sentiments ; and sometimes, perhaps, we shall be ready to ask ourselves, whether these can be the same persons and the same people, of whom such * Habet in pictura speriem tota facies. Apelles tainen imaginem Antigoni latere tantara altero osteo- i\t, ut amissi ociili deforinit&s lateret. — Q,ulntil. 1. ii. c. 13. t Exfiqul senlentias haiul astitui. nisi insig-nes per honesti'm nut notabill dederorc ; qiiod prapcipuirio munus annalaim reor, hp virtutee aiW'*atur, utque pravis dir.ils factisque ex posterilate et iafainia in«U« fct -TLcit. Annul. 1 lU 80 rNTRODUCTION, different thing's are related ; and whether it be possible that such a bright and ?hining light, and such thick clouds of smoke and darkness, can proceed from the same source ? The Persian history includes the space of one hundred and seventeen years, during the reigns of six kings of Persia ; Darius, the first of the name, the son of Hystaspes ; Xerxes the first Artaxerxes, surnamed Longimanus Xerxes, the second ; Sogdianus ; (the two last reigned but a short time ;) and Darius the second, commonly called Darius Nothus. This history begini at the year of the world 3483, and extends to the year 3600. As this wholu period naturally divides itself into two parts, I shall also divide it into two dis- tinct books. The first part, which consists of ninety years, extends from the beginning of the reign of Darius the first to the forty-second year of Artaxerxes, the same year in which the Peloponnesian war began ; that is, from the year of the world 3483 to the year 3573. This part chiefly contains the different en- terprises and expeditions of the Persians against Greece, which never produ- ced more great men or greater events, nor ever displayed more conspicuous or more solid virtues. Here will be seen the famous battles of Marathon Thermopylae, Artemisium, Salamis, Platoea, Mycale, Eurymedon, &lc Here the most eminent commanders of Greece signalized their courage ; Mil- tiades, Leonidas, Themistocles, Aristides, Cimon, Pausanias, Pericies, Thu- cydides, &c. To enable the reader the more easily to recollect what passed within this space of time among the Jews, and also amorg the Romans, the history of both which nations is entirely foreign to that of the Persians and Greets, 1 shall here set down in few words the principal epochs relating to them EPOCHS OF THE JEWISH HISTORY. The people of God were at this time returned from their Babylonish cap tivity to Jerusalem, under the conduct of Zorobabel. Usher is of opinion, that the history of Esther ought to be placed in the reign of Darius. The Israelites, under the shadow of this prince's protection, and animated by the warm exhortations of the prophets Haggai and Zechariah, did at last finish the building of the temple, which had been interrupted for many years by the cabals of their enemies. Artaxerxes v» as i o less favourable to the Jews than Darius ; he first of all sent Ezra to Jerusa lem, who restored the public worship, and the observation of the law ; then Nehemiah, who caused walls to be built round the city, and fortified it against the attacks of their neigh- bours, who were jealous of its reviving gretitr.ess. It is thought that Mala- chi, the last of the prophets, was contemporary with Nehemiah, or that he prophesied not long after him. This interval of the sacred history extends from the reign of Darius I. to the beginning of the reign of Darius Nothus ; that is to say, from the year of the world 3485 to the year 3581. After which the Scripture is entirely silent, till the time of the Maccabees. EPOCHS OF the ROMAN history. The first year of Darius 1. was the 233d of the building of Rome. Tar- ^u'm the Proud was then on the throne, and about ten years afterwards was expelled, when the consular government was substituted for that of the kings. In the succeeding part of this period, happened the war against Porsenna ; the creation of the tribunes of the people ; Coriolanus's retreat among the Volsci, and the war that ensued thereupon ; the wars of the Romans against the Latins, the Vejentes, the Volsci, and other neighbouring nations ; the death of Virginia under the Decemvirate ; the disputes between the people and senate about marriages and the consulship, which occasioned the creating of military tribunes instead of consuls. This period of ime terminates in the S83d 3''ear from the foundation of Rome, iNTRODUCTlON. The second part, whicn consists of twenty-seven years, extends from the forty-third year of Artaxenres Longiinanus to the death of Darius Nothus that is from the year of the world 3573 to the year 3600. It contains the first nineteen years of the Peloponnesian war, which continued twenty-seven, of which Greece and Sicily were the seat, and wherein the Greeks, who had be- fore triumphed over the barbarians, turned their arms against each other. Among the Athenians, Pericles, Nicias, and Alcibiades ; among the Lacedae- monians, Brasidas, GyUppus, and Lysander, eminently distinguished them* selves. Rome continued 1c be agitated by different disputes between the senate and people. Towards the end of this period, and about the 350th year of Rome, the Romans formed the siege of Veji, which lasted ten years. I have already observed, that eighty years after the taking of Troy,* the Heraclidse, that is, the descendants of Hercules, returned into the Peloponne- sus, and made themselves masters of Lacedaemon, where two of them, who were brothers, Euristhenes and Procles, sons of Aristodemus, reigned jointly fogether.f Herodotus observes, that these two brothers were during their vj^hole lives at variance, and that almost all their descendants inherited the like disposition of mutual hatred and antipathy ; so true it is, that the sove- reign power will admit of no partnership, and that two kings will always be loo many for one kingdom ! However, after the death of these two, the de- scendants of both still continued to sway the sceptre jointly ; and what is very remarkable, these two branches subsisted for near nine hundred years, from the return of the Heraclidae into the Peloponnesus to the death of Cleo- menes, and supplied Sparta with kings without interruption, and that gene- rally in a regular succession from father to son, especially in the elder branch of the family. THE ORIGIN AND CONDITION OF THE ELOTiE, OR HELOTS. When tlie Lacedsemonians first began to settle in Peloponnesus, they met with gieat opposition from the iniiabitants of the country, whom they were obliged to subdue one after another by force of arms, or receive into their alli- ance on easy and equitable terms, with the imposition of a small tribute. Strabo speaks of a city, called Elos, not far from Sparta, which, after having submitted to the yoke, as others had done, revolted openly, and refused to pay the tribute.J Agis, the son of Euristhenes, newly settled on the throne, was sensible of the dangerous tendency of this first revolt, and therefore im- mediately marched v/ith an army against them, together with Soiis, his col- league. They laid siege to the city, which, after a pretty long resistance was forced to -surrender at discretion. This prince thought ft proper to makt sacli an example of them, as should intimidate all their neighbours, and detei them from the like attempts, and yet not alienate their minds by too cruel 2 treatment ; for which reason he put none to death. He spared the lives of all the inhabitants, but at the same time deprived them of their liberty, anc reduced them all to a state of slavery. From thencefonvard they were em ployed in all mean and servile offices, and treated with extreme rigour. These were the people who were called Elotae or Helots. The number of them ex- ceedingly increased in process of time, the Lacedaemonians giving undoubt edly the same name to all the people whom they reduced to the same condi- tion of servitude. As they themselves were averse to labour, and entirely addicted to war, they left the cultivation of their lands to these slaves, assign- ing every one of them a certain portion of ground, the produce of which they were obliged to carry every year to their respective masters, who endea voured, by all sorts of ill usage, to make their yoke more grievous and insup- portable. This was certainly very bad policy, and could only tend to breed R vast number of dangerous enemies in the very heart of the state, who were • A.M. 2900. Ant J. C. 1104. t Lib. vi. c. 5* J Lib. riii. p. 8«6. Plut. in Lvcurg. p. 40. Vol.. L IKTEODUCTION. always ready to take arms and revolt on eveiy occasion. The ^Romans acted more prudently in this respect ; for they incorporated the conquerea nations into their state, by admitting them 'o the freedom of their city, and thereJ^y converted them from enemies into brethren and fellow citizen^. LYCURGUS, THE LACEDAEMONIAN LAWGIVER. EuRYTioN, or Eurypon, as he is named by others, succeeded Soiis. In order to gain the affections of the people, ana render his government agreea- ble, he thought fit to recede, in some points, from the absolute power exer- cised by the kings, his predecessors ; this rendered his name so dear to his sub- jects, that all his descendants were from him called Eurytionidae.* But this relaxation gave birth to horrible confusion and an unbounded licentiousness in Sparta, which for a long time occasioned infinite mischiefs. The people became so insolent, that nothing could restrain them. If Eurytion's succes- sors attempted to recover their authority by force, they became odious ; and, if, through complaisance or weakness, they chose to dissemble, their mildness served only to render them contemptible ; so that order was in a manner abolished, and the laws no longer regarded. These confusions hastened the death of Lycurgus's father, whose name was Eunomus, and who was killed in an insurrection. Polydectes, his eldest son and successor, dying soon after without children, every body expected Lycurgus would have been king. And indeed he was so in effect, as long as the pregnancy of his brother's wife was uncertain ; but as soon as that was manifest, he declared that the king- dom belonged to her child, in case it proved a son ; and from that moment he V)ok upon himself the administration of the government, as guardian to his unborn nephew, under the title of prodicos, which was the name given by the Lacedaimonians to the guardians of their kings. When the child was born, Lycurgus took him up in his arms, and criei out to the company that were present, behold, my lords of Sparta, this new-born child is your king : and at the same time he put the infant in the king's seat, and named him Charilaus, because of the joy the people expressed upon occasion of his birth. The reader will find in the first volume of this history, all that relates to the history of Lycurgus, the reformation he made, and the excellent laws he established in Sparta. Agesilaus was at this time king in the elder branch of the family. WAR BETWEEN THE ARGIVES AND THE LACEDiEMONIANS. Some time after this, in the reign of Theopompus, a war broke out betw^een the Argives and Lacedcemonians, on account of a little country, called Thyrea, that lay upon the confines of the two states, and to which each of them pre- 2ended a right. When the two armies were ready to engage, it was agreed on both sides, in order to spare the effusion of blood, that the quarrel should be decided by three hundred of the bravest men on both sides; and that the land in question should become the property of the victorious party. To leave the combatants more room to engage, the two armies retired to some distance. Those generous champions, then, who had all the co irage of two mighty armies, boldly advanced towards each other, and fought with so much resolution and fury, that the whole number, except three men, two on the Argives, and one on that of the Lacedaemonians, lay dead upon tLe spot, and only the night parted them. The two Argives looking upon themselves as the conquerors, made what haste they could to Argos to carry the news : the single Lacedaemonian, Othryades by name, instead of retirmg, stripped the dead bodies of the Argives, and carrying their arms into the Lacedaemonian camp, continued in his post. The next day the two armies returned to the field of battle. Both sides laid equal claim to the victory ; the Argives, be- cause they had more of their champions left alive than the enemy had ; the * PlaU la L^curg. p. 40, f Herod. 1. 1. o. 9L tNTRODUOTION. Bd Lacedaemonians, because the two Argives that remained alive had fled ; who real their single soldier had remained master of the field of battle, and had car- ried oif the spoils of the enemy ; in short, they could not determirvi the dis- pute without coming to another engagement. Here fortune declared in fa- vour of the Lacedtemonians, and the little territoiy of Thyrea was the prize of their victory. But Othryades, not able to bear the thought of surriving his brave companions, or of enduring the sight of Sparta' after their death, killed himself on the same field of battle where they had fought, resolving tc fwive one fate and tomb with them. WARS BETWEEN THE MESSENIANS AND LACED JIMONIANS. There were no less than three several wars between the Messenians and he Lacedaemonians, all of them very fierce and bloody. Messenia was t country in Peloponnesus, not far westward from Sparta ; it was of considera- ble strength, and was governed by its own kings. THE FIRST MESSENIAN WAR* The first Messenian war lasted twenty years, and broke out in the second year of the ninth Olympiad.* The Lacedaemonians pretended to have re- ceived several consiaerable injuries from the Messenians, and among others, that of having had their daughters ravished by the inhabitants of Messeniai •rhen they went according to custom, to a temple that stood on the borders oi the two nations ; as also that of the murder of Telecles, their king, which was a consequence of the former outrage. Probably a desire of extending their dominion, and of seizing a territory which lay so convenient for them, might be the true cause of the war. But, be that as it will, the war broke out in the reign of Polydorus and Theopompus, kings of Sparta, at the time ^yhen the office of archon at Athens was still decennial. Euphaes, the thirteenth descendant from Hercules, was then king of Mes- senia. j He gave the command of his army to Cleonnis. The Lacedaemoni- ans opened the campaign with the siege of Amphea, an inconsiderable city, which, however, they thought, would be a very convenient depot for arms. The town was taken by storm, and all the inhabitants put to the sword. This first blow served only to animate the Messenians, by showing them what ^ they were to expect from the enemy, if they did not defend themselves with vigour. The Lacedaemonians, on their part, bound themselves by an oath, not to lay down their arms, or return to Sparta, till they had made themselves masters of all the cities and lands belonging to the Messenians ; so much did they rely upon their strength and valour. Two battles were fought, wherein the loss was nearly equal on both sidps. But after the second, the Messenians suffered extremely through the want (»f revisions, which occasioned a great desertion in their troops, and at last rought pestilence among them. J Hereupon they consulted the oracle at Delphos, which directed them, in order to appease the wrath of the gods, to offer up a virgin of the royal blood in sacrifice. Aristomenes, who was of the race of the Epytides, offered his own daughter. The Messenians then considering, that if they left garrisons in all their towns, they should extremely weaken their army, resolved to abandon them all except Ithoma, a little place situated on the top of a hill of the same name, about which they encamped and fortified themselves. In this situation were seven years spent, during which nothing passed but slight skirmishes on both sides, the Lacedaemonians not daring, in all that time, to force the enemy to a battle. Indeed, they almost despaired of being able to reduce them ; nor was there •ny thing but the obligation of the oath, by which they had bound themselves, ♦ A. M. 3261. Ant. J. C. 743. Pausan, \. iv. p. Q16— 242. Juttin. 1. m. 4> t Pftusan. 1. iv. p. 225—226. J Ibid. 227—134. • 84 INTRODUCTION. that made tliem continue so burdensome a war. What gave them the great est uneasiness, was their apprehension lest their absence and distance from 'heir wives for so many years, and which might still continue man}^ more, should destroy their families at home, and leave Sparta destitute of citizens.* To prevent this misfortune, they sent home such of their soldiers as were come to the army since the fore-mentioned oath had been taken, and made no scru- ple of prostituting their wives to their embraces. The children that sprung from these unlawful connexions, were called Parthenice^ a name given to them to denote the infamy of their birth. As soon as they were grown up, not be- ing able to endure such an opprobrious distinction, they banished themselves from Sparta with one consent, and under ihe conduct of Phalanthus,t went and settled at Tarentum in Italy, after driving out the ancient inhabitants. At last, in the eighth year of the war, which was the thirteenth of Euphaes's reign, a fierce and bloody battle was fought near Ithoma.J Euphaes pierced through the battalions of Theopompus with too much heat and precipitation for a king. He there received a multitude of wounds, several of which were mortal. He fell, and seemed to have expired. Whereupon wonderful efforts of courage were exerted on both sides; by the one, to carry off the king; by the other, to save him. Cleonnis killed eight Spartans, wno were drag- ging him along, and spoiled them of their arms, which he committed to the custody of some of his soldiers. He himself received several wounds, all in the fore-part of his body, which was a certain proof that he had never turned his back upon his enemies. Aristomenes, fighting on the same occasion, and for the same end, killed five Lacedaemonians, whose spoils he likewise carried off, without receiving any wound. In short, the king was saved and carried off by the Messenians ; and all mangled and bloody as he was, he expressed great joy that they had not been worsted. Aristomenes, after the battle was over, met Cleonnis, who, by reason of his wounds, could neither walk by himself, nor with the assistance of those that lent him their hands. He there- fore took him upon his shoulders without quitting his arms, and carried him to the camp. As soon as they had applied the first dressing to the wounds of the king of Messenia and of his officers, there arose a new contention among the Messe- nians, that was pursued with as much warmth as the former, but was of a very different kind, and yet the consequence of the other. The affair in question was the adjudging the prize of glory to him that had signalized his valour most in the late engagement. For it was a custom among them, publicly to proclaim after a battle the name of the man that had shown the greatest cou- rage. Nothing could be more proper to animate the officers and soldiers, to inspire them with resolution and intrepidity, and to stifle the natural appre- hension of death and danger. Two illustrious champions entered the lists on this occasion, namely, Cleonnis and Aristomenes. The king, notwithstanding his weak condition, being attended with the principal officers of his army, presided in the council, where this important dispute was to be decided. Each competitor pleaded his own cause. Cleonnis oegan and founded his pretensions upon the great number of the enemies he had slain, and upon the multitude of wounds he had received in the action. H'hich were so many undoubted testimonies of the courage with which he haa faced both death and danger ; whereas the condition in which Aristomenes came out of the engagement, without hurt and without wound, seemed to show that he had been very careful of his own person, or at most, could only prove that he had been more fortunate, but not more brave or courageous than himself. And as to his having carried the king on his shoulders into the camp, that action indeed might serve to prove the strength of his body, but * Diod. 1. XV. p. 378. I Et regnata petam Laconi rura Phalanto. Hor Od. ri I. 9 I Pauian. L iv. p. 234. 235. V'tog. ia Frag;. IXTRODUCTION. nothing farther ; and the thing in dispute at this time, says he, is ncl strengtii, but va\our. The only thing Aristomenes was reproached for, was his not being wounded ; therefore he confined himself to that point, and answered in the follow! njf manner: " I am," says he, " called fortunate, because I have escaped from the battle without wounds. If that were owing to my cowardice, I should deserve another epithet than that of fortunate ; and instead of being admit- ted to dispute the prize, ought to undergo the rigour of the laws that punish towards. But what is objected to me as a crime, is in truth my greatest glory. For, if my enemies, astonished at my valour, durst not venture to attack or oppose me, it is no small degree of merit, that I made them fear me ; or if while they engaged me, 1 had at the same time strength to cut them in pieces, and skill to guard against their attacks, 1 must then have been at once both valiant ani prudent. For whoever, in the midst of an engagement, can expose himself to danger with caution and security, shows that he excels at the same time both in the virtues of the mind and the body. As for courage, no man living can reproach Cleonnis with any want of it ; but, for his honour's sake, I am sorry that he should appear to want gratitude." After the conclusion of these harangues, the question was put to the vote. The whole army was in suspense, and impatiently waited for the decision. No dispute couid be so warm and interesting as this. It is not a competition for gold or silver, but solely for honour. The proper reward of virtue is pure disinterested glory. Here the judges are unsuspected. The actions of the competitors still speak for them.^ It is the king himself, surrounded with his officers, who presides and adjudges. A whole army are the wit- nesses. The field of battle is a tribunal without partiality and cabal. In short, all the votes concurred in favour of Aristomenes, and adjudged him the prize. Euphaes, the king, died not many days after the decision of this affair.* He had reigned thirteen years, and during all that time had been engaged in war with the Lacedaemonians. As he died without children, he left the Mes- senians at liberty to choose his successor. Cleonnis and Damis were candi- dates in opposition to Aristomenes ; but he was elected king in preference to them. When he was on the throne, he did not scruple to confer on his two rivals the principal offices of the state. AU strongly attached to the public good, even more than to their own glory ; competitrrs. but not enemies, these great men were actuated by a zeal for their country, and were i.aither friends nor adversaries to one another, but for its preservation. In this relation, I have followed the opinion of the late Monsieur Boivin, the elder, and have made use of his learned dissertation upon a fragment of Drodorus Siculus, which the world was little acquainted with. He supposes, and proves in it, that the king spoken of in that fragmerit is Euphaes, and that Aristomenes is the same that Pausanias called Aristodemus, according to th« custom of the ancients, who are called by two dilferent names. t Aristomenes, otherwise called Aristodemus, reigned near seven years, and was equally esteemed and beloved by his subjects. The war still continued all this time.J Towards the end of his reign he beat ihe Lacedaemonians, took their king Theopompus, and, in honour of Jupiter and Ithoma, sacniiced three hundred of them, among whom the king was the principal victim. Shortly after, Aristodemus sacrificed himself upon the tomb of his daughter, in con- formity to the answer of an oracle. Damis was his successor, but without taking upon him the title of king. After his death, the Messenians had never any success in their affairs, but found themselves in a very wretched and hopeless condition.§ Being reduced • Pautan. I. iv. p. 235, 241. f Memoirs of the Academy of Inscriptions, ' V p S4 — HS. t Cl«n. Alex, in protrep. p. 20. FAneb. in prjiep. 1. iv. c. 16. i Pausan. 1. . 9^1. 243. 36 IWTKODUCTIOW. to the last extremity, and utterly destitute of provisions, they abandoned Ithoma, and fled to such of their allies as were nearest to them. The city was immediately razed, and all the people that remained submitted. They were made to engage by oath never to forsake the party of the Lacedaemoni- ans, and never to revolt from them ; a very useless precaution, only proper to make them add the guilt of perjury to their rebellion. Their new masters imposed no tribute upon them, but contented themselves with obliging them to bring to the Spartan market, one half of the corn they should reap every harvest. It was likewise stipulated, that the Messenians, both men and wo men, should attend in mourning the funerals of the kings, the chief citizeris of Sparta ; which the Lacedaemonians probably looked upon as a mark of de- endence, and as a kind of homage paid to their nation. Thus ended.the rst Messenian war, after having lasted twenty years.* THE SECOND MESSENIAN WAR. The lenity with which the Lacedaemonians treated the Messenians at first, was of no long duration.! When once they found the whole country had sub- mitted, and thought the people incapable of giving them any further trouble, they returned to their natural character of insolence and haughtiness, that often degenerated into cruelty, and sometimes even into ferocity. Instead of treating the vanquished with kindness, as friends and allies, ana endeavouring by gentle methods to win those whom they had subdued by force, they seemed intent upon nothing but aggravating their yoke, and making them feel the whole weight of subjection. They laid heavy taxes upon them, delivered them up to the avarice of the collectors of those taxes, gave no ear to their complaints, rendered them no justice, treated them like vile slaves, and com- mitted the most heinous outrages against them. Man, who is born for liberty, can never reconcile himself to servitude ; the most gentle slavery exasperates, and provokes him to rebel. What could be expected, then, from so cruel a one as that under which the Messenians groaned? After having endured it with great uneasiness near forty years, they resolved to throw off the yoke, and to recover their ancient liberty. f This was in the fourth year of the twenty-third Olympiad ;§ the office of archon at Athens was then made annual ; and Anaxander and Anaxidamus reigned at Sparta. The Messenians' first care was, to strengthen themselves with the alliance of the neighbouring nations. These they found well inclined to enter into their views, as very agreeable to their own interests. For it was not without jealousy and apprehension, that they saw so powerful a city rising up in the midst of them, which manifestly seemed to aim at extending her dominion over all the rest. The people, therefore, of Elis, the Argives and Sicyonians, declared for the Messenians. But before their forces were joined, a battle was fought between the Lacedaemonians and Messenians. Aristomenes,|| the second of that name, was at the head of the latter. He was a commander ot mtrepid courage, and of great abilities in war. The Lacedaemonians were beaten in this engagement. Aristomenes, to give the enemy at first an ad- t^antageous opinion of his bravery, knowing what influence it has on the suc- cess of future enterprises, boldly ventured to enter into Sparta by night, and upon the gate of the temple of Minerva, who was surnamed Chalcioecos to hang up a shield, on which was an inscription, signifying that it was a present offered by Aristomenes to the goddess, out of the spoils of the Lacedaemonians This bravado did in reality astonish the Lacedaemonians. But they wer^ jitill more alarmed at the foraiidable league that was formed against ihem » A. M. 3281. Anf . J. C. 723. t Pausan. 1. iv. p. 'i42— 261. Justin. 1. iii. c. 5. Cum per cornplurcs annosgravia servitutis verbera, plerur/ique ac vincula, caeteraque captivitatis malv perpeMi essent, post loneam poenarum patientiam bellum instaurant. — Justin. 1. iii. c. 5. } A. M . 3320. Ant. J. C. 684. Q Afsc^filug to leyeral hiitorlaai, there wa> another ArUtomenei in the first MeiseniaB war.-»Dio4 1 p. 91>t> NTRODUCnOW. The Delphic oracle, which tney consulted, in order to know by what meoi^ they should be successful in this war, directed them to send to Athens for * commander, and to submit to his counsel and conduct. This was a very morli- {ying step to so haughty a city as Sparta. But the fear of incurring the god't displeasure by a direct disobedience, prevailed over all other considerations. They sent an embassy, therefore, to the Athenians. The people of Athens were somewhat perplexed at this request. On the one hand, they were not sorry it see the Lacedaemonians at war with their neighbours, and were far from desir» ing to furnish them with a good general ; on the other, they were afraid also of disobeying the god. To extricate themselves out of this difficulty, they offered the Lacedaemonians a person called Tyrtaeus. He was a poet by pro- fession, and had something original in the turn of his mind, and disagreeable in his person, for he was lame. Notwithstanding these defects, the Lacedae- monians received him as a general sent them by heaven itself. Their suc- cesses did not at first answer their expectation, fof they lost three battles suc- cessively. The kings of Sparta, discouraged by so many tiisappointments, and out of all hopes of better success for the future, w^ere absolutely bent upon returning to Sparta, and marching home again with their forces. Tyrtaeus opposed this design very warmly, and at length brought them over to his opinion. He ad- dressed the troops, and repeated to them some verses he had made on the occasion, and on which he had bestowed great pains and application. He first endeavoured to comfort them for their past losses, which he imputed to no fault of theirs, but only to ill fortune, or to fate, which no human wisdom can surmount. He then represented to them, what a shame it would be for Spartans to fly from an enemy, and how glorious it would be for them rather to perish sword in hand in fighting for their country, if it was so decreed by fate. Then, as if all lianger was vanished, and the gods, fully satisfied and appeased with their late calamities, were entirely turned to their side, he set victory before their eyes as present and certain, and as if she herself was invit- ing them to battle. All the ancient authors who have made any mention of the style and character of Tyrtseus's poetry,^ observe, that it was full of a certain fire, ardour, and enthusiasm, that animated the minds of men, that ex- alted them above themselves, that inspired them with something generous and martial, that extinguished all fear and apprehension of danger or death, and made them wholly intent upon the preservation of their country and their own glory.t Tyrtaeus's verses had really this effect on the soldiei^s upon this occasion. They desired with one voice to march against the enemy. Being wholly indifferent as to their lives, they had ho thoughts but to secure to themselves the honour of a burial. To this end they all tied bands round their right amis, on which were inscribed their own and their fathers' names, that if they chanced to be killed in the battle, and to have their faces so altered through time or accidents, as not to be distinguishable, it might certainly be knowr who each of them was by these marks. Soldiers determined to die are veiy valiant. This appeared in the battle that ensued. It was very bloody, tht victory being a long time disputed on boih sides ; but at last the Messenians gave way. When Tyrtaeus went afterwards to Sparta, he was received wife me greatest marks of distinction, and incorporated into the body of citizens The gaining of this battle did not put an end to the war, which had alreadj lasted three years. Aristomenes, having assembled the remains of his army^ retired to the top of a mountain of difficult access, which was called Ira. Fhi conquerors attempted to carry the place by assault ; but that brave prince de« fended himself there for the space of eleven years, and performed the mo«t ♦ Plat, h i. de Le^ib. p. 629. Plut. in Agid. et Cleom. p. 805. t Tyrtaeusquc mares aniroos id martia bella Versibus «exacuit. Hor 'in Art Poet. 88 NTRODUCTION. extraordinary actions of bravery. He was at last obliged to quit it only by surprise and treachery, after having defended it like a lion. Such of the Mes- senians as fell into the hands of the Lacedaemonians on this occasion, were reduced to the condition of the Helots, or slaves. The rest, seeing their coun- try ruined, went and settled at Zancle, a city in Sicily, which afterwards took its name from this people, and was called Messana ; the same place called al this day Messina. Aristomenes, after having conducted one of his daughters to Rhodes, whom he had given in marriage to the tyrant of that place, thought of passing on to Sardis, and to remain with Ardys, king of the Lydians, or to Ecbatana, with Phraortes, king of the Medes ; but death prevented the ex* ecution of all his designs. The second Messenian war was of fourteen years' duration, and ended the first year of the twenty-seventh Olympiad.* There was a third war betv/een these people and the Lacedaemonians, which began both at the time, and on the occasion, of a great earthquake that hap* pened at Sparta. We shall speak of this war in its place. The history, of which it remains for me to treat in this work, is that of the successors of Alexander, and comprehends the space of two hundred and ninety-three years ; from the death of that monarch, and the commencement of the reign of Ptolemy, the son of Lagus, in Egypt, to the death of Cleopatra, when that kingdom became a Roman province, under the emperor Augustus. This history will present to our view a series of all the crimes which usually arise from inordinate ambition; scenes of jealousy and perfidious conduct, treason, ingratitude, and cr}"ing abuses of sovereign power, cruelty, impiety, an utter oblivion of the natural sentiments of probity and honour, with the violation of all laws human and divine, will rise before us. We shall behold nothing but fatal dissensions, destructive wars, and dreadful revolutions. Men originally friends, brought up together, and natives of the same country, com- panions in the same dangers, and instrun.ents in the accomplishment of the same exploits and victories, will conspire tc tear in pieces the empire they had ail concurred to form at the expense of .heir blood. We shall see the captains of Alexander sacrifice the mother, the wives, the brother, the sisters of that prince, to their ambition ; and without sparing even those to whum they either owed or gave life. We shall no longer behold those glorious times of Greece, that were once so productive of great men, and great exam- ples ; or if we should happen to discover some traces and remains of them, they will only resemble the gleams of lightning that shoot along in a rapid track, and are only remarkabje from the profound darkness that precedes and follows them. I acknowledge myself to be sufficiently sensible how much a writer is to be pitied, who is obliged to represent human nature in such colours and linea- ments as dishonour her, and which cannot fail of inspiring disgust and a secret affliction in the minds of those who are made spectators of such a picture. History loses whatever is most interesting and most capable of conveying pleasure and instruction, when she can only produce those effects, by inspir- ing the mind with horror for criminal actions and by a representation of the calamities which usually succeed them, anda e to be considered as their just punishment. It is difficult to engage the attention of a reader for any con- siderable time, on objects which only raise his indignation and it would be affronting him, to seem desirous of dissuading him from the excess of inordi- nate passions of which he conceives himself incapable. How is it possible to diffuse any interest through a narration, which has nothing to offer but a uniform series of vices and great crimes, and which makes it necessary to enter into a particular detail of the actions and charac- ters of men, born for the calamity of the human race, and whose very names should not be transmitted to posterity ? It may even be thought dangerous ^ * A- M. 3334. Ant J C. 670. LNTR0DUCT10:V. iamil^anze the minds of the generality of mankind to uninterrupted scenes of too successful inquity ; and to be particular in describing the unjust success which waited on those illustrious criminals, the long duration of whose pros- perity being frequently attended with the privileges and rewards of virtue, may be thought an imputation on Providence by persons of weak understand- ings. This history, which seems likely to prove very disagreeable from the rea- sons I have just mentioned, will become more so from^the obscurity and con- tusion in which the several transactions will be involved, and which it will be difficult, if not impossible, to remedy. Ten or twelve of Alexander's captains were engaged in a course of hostilities against each other, for the partition of his empire after his death, and to secure themselves some portion, greater or less, of that vast body. Sometimes feigned friends, sometimes declared ene- mies, they are continually forming different parties and leagues, which are to subsist no longer than is consistent with the interest of each individual. Mace- donia changed its masters five or six times in a very short space ; by what means then can order and perspicuity be preserved, in a prodigious variety of events that are perpetually crossing and breaking in upon each other ? Besides which, I am no longer supported by any ancient authors capable of conducting me through this darkness and confusion. Diodorus will entirely abandon me, after having been my guide for some time ; and no other histo- rian will appear to take his place. No proper series of affairs will remain ; the several events are not to be disposed into any regular connexion with each other ; nor will it be possible to point out, either the motives to the rf^so- lutions formed, or the proper character of the principal actors in this scene of obscurity. I think myself happy when Polybius, or Plutarch, lend me their • assistance. In my account of Alexander's successors, whose transactions are perhaps the most complicated and perplexed part of ancient history. Usher, Prideaux, and Vaillant, will be my usual guides ; and, on many occasions, I shall only transcribe from Prideaux ; but with all these aids, I shall not pro- mise to throw so much light on this history as I could desire. After a war of more than twenty years, the number of the principal competi- tors was reduced to four : Ptolemy, Cassander, Seleucus, and Lysimachus : the empire of Alexander was divided into four fixed kingdoms, agreeably to the prediction of Daniel, by a solemn treaty concluded between the parties. Three of these kingdoms, Egypt, Macedonia, Syria or Asia, will have a regu- lar succession of monarchs, sull&ciently clear and distinct ; but the fourth, which comprehended Thrace, with part of the Lesser Asia, and some neigh- bouring provinces, will suffer a number of variations. As the kingdom of Egypt was subject to the fewest changes, because Pto- lemy, who was established there as a governor at the death of Alexander, retained the possession of it ever after, and left it to his posterity ; we shall therefore consider this prince as the basis of our chronology, and our several epochs shall be fixed from him. The third volitoe contains the events for the space of one hundred and twenty years, under the first four kings of Egypt, viz. Ptolemy, the son of Lagus, who leigned thirty-eight years ; Ptolemy Philadelphus, who reigned forty ; Ptolemy Euergetes, who reigned twenty-five ; and Ptolemy Philopator, whose reign continued seventeen. In order to throw some light upon the history contained therein, I shall, in the first place, give the principal events of it in a chronological abridge- ment. Introductr .y to which, I must desire the reader to accompany me in some reflections, ^hich have not escaped Monsieur Bossuet, with relation to Alexan- der. This prince, who was the most reno^^^led and illustrious conqueror in all history, was the last monarch of his race. Macedonia, his ancient kingdom, which his ancestors had governed (ov so many ages, was invaded from all •quarters as a vacant succession; nnd aft»- it had long been a prey to the 9(1 INTRODUCTION. strongest, it was at last transferred to another family. If Alexander had con tinued peaceably in Macedonia, the grandeur of his empire would not have excited the ambition of his captains, and he might have transmitted the scep- tre of his progenitors to his own descendants ; but, as he had not prescribed any bounds to his power, he was instrumental in the destruction of his house ; and we shall behold the extermination of his family, w^ithout the least remain- ing traces of them in history. His conquests occasioned a vast effusion of blood, and furnished his captains w^ith a pretext for murdering one another. These were the effects that flowed from the boasted bravery of Alexander', ot rather from that brutality, which, under the glittering names of ambition aiy\ glory, spread and carried desolation, fire and sword through whole provinces without the least provocation, and shed the blood of multitudes who had neves injured him. We are not to imagine, however, that Providence abandoned these events to chance, but, as it was then preparing all things for the approaching appear^ ance of the Messiah, it was vigilant to unite all the nations that were to be fin^t enlightened with the gospel, by the use of one and the same language, which was that of Greece : and the same Providence rendered it necessary for them to learn this foreign tongue, by subjecting them to such masters as spoke no other. The Deity, therefore, by the agency of this language, which became more common and universal than any other, facilitated the preaching of the N apostles, and rendered it more uniform. The partition of the empire of Alexander the Great among the generals ol that prince, immediately after his death, did not subsist for any length of time, and hardly took place, if w e except Egypt, where Ptolemy had first estab- lished himself, and on the throne of w^hich he always maintained himself, with- out acknowledging any superior. This partition was not fully regulated and fixed, till after the battle of Ipsus in Phrygia,* wherein Antigones and his son Demetrius, surnamed Poliorcetes, were defeated, and the former lost his life. The empire of Alexander was then divided into four kingdoms by a solemn treaty, as had been foretold by Daniel. Ptolemy had Egypt, Libya, Arabia, Ccslosyria, and Palestine. Cas- Sander, the son of Antipater, obtained Macedonia and Greece. Lysimachus acquired Thrace, Bithynia, and some other provinces on the other side of the Hellespont and the Bosphorus ; and Seleucus had Syria and all that part of Asia Major which extended to the other side of the Euphrates,. and as far as the river Indus. Of these four kingdoms, those of Egypt and Syria subsisted almost with- out any interruption, in the same families, and through a long succession of princes. The kingdom of Macedonia had several masters of different fami- lies successively. That of Thrace w^as at last divided into several branches, and no longer constituted one entire body, by which means all traces of regu- lar succession ceased to subsist. I. THE KINGDOM OF EGYPT. # The kingdom of Egypt had fourteen monarchs, including Cleopatra, after whose death those dominions became a province of the Roman empire. Aii these princes had the common name of Ptolemy, but each of them was like- wise distinguished by a surname. They had also the appellation of Lagides, from Lagus, the father of that Ptolemy who reigned the first in Egypt. The histories of six of these kings w^ill be found in the third and fourth volume of this work, and I shall give their names a place here, with the duration of their reigns, the first of which commenced immediately upon the death of .Alexander the Great. Ptolemy Soter. He reigned thirty-:^ight years and some months.! • 'A. M. 3704 Ant J. C 200. f A. M. 3^80. Am J. C 324. l!fTRODUCTIOJI. 91 Ptolemy Philadelphus. He reigned forty years, including the two jetn of his reign in the lifetime of his fatlier.* Ptolemy Euergetes, twenty-five years.t Ptolemy Philopator, seventeen.J Ptolemy Epiphanes, tvventy-four.§ Ptolemy Philometer, thirty-four. 11 II. THE KINGDOM OF SYRIA. The kingdom of Syria had twenty-seven kings ; which makes it evident, their reigns were often very short ; and, indeed, several of these princefl ivaded to the throne through the blood of their predecessors. They are usually called Seleu^^ides, from Seleucus, who reigned the first in Syria. History reckons up su kings of this name, and thirteen who are called by that of Antiochus ; but they are all distinguished by different sur- names. Others of them assumed different names, and the last was called An- tiochus XIII. with the surnames of Epiphanes, Asiaticus, and Commagenus. In his reign, Pompey reduced Syria into a Roman province, after it had been governed by kings for the space of two hundred and fifty years, according lo Eusebius. The kings of Syria, the transactions of whose reigns are contained in the 'bird and fourth volumes, are eight in number. Seleucus Nicator. He reigned twenty years. 1[r Antiochus Soter, nineteen.** Antiochus Theos, fifteen.jt Seleucus Callimcus, twenty .JJ Seleucus Ceraunus, three. §§ Antiochus the Great, thirty-six. HH Seleucus Philopator, twelve. Antiochus Epiphanes, brother of Seleucus Philopator, eleven.*! III. THE KINGDOM OF MACEDONIA. Macedonia frequently changed its masters, after the solemn partition had been made between the foiT princes.^J Cassander died three or four year? ifter that partition, and left three sons. Philip, the eldest, died shortly after his father. The other two contended for the crown without enjoying it, both dying soon after without issue. Demetrius Poliorcetes, Pyrrhus, and Lysimachus, made themselves mas ters of all, or the greatest part of Macedonia ; sometimes in conjunction, and at other times separately .*§ After the death of Lysimachus, Seleucus possessed himself of Macedonia, but did not long enjoy it.*il Ptolemy Ceraunus, having slain the preceding prince, seized the kingdom and possessed it alone but a very short time, having lost his life in a battle with the Gauls, who nad made an irruption into that country.*^ Sosthenes, who defeated the Gauls, reigned but a short time in Macedonia. tj Antigonus Gonatus, the son of Demetrius Poliorcetes, obtained the peace- able possession of the kingdom of MacedoDia, and transmitted those dominions to his descendants, after he had reigned thirty-four years. t§ He was succeeded by his son Demetrius, III who reigned ten years, and then iied, leaving a son named Philip, who was but two years old. Antigonus Doson reigned tv/elve years in the quality of guardian to the roung prince.! 1i Philip, after the death of Antigonus, ascended the throne, at the age of four- ten years, and reigned something more than forty.j:§ • A. M. 3718. i 3758. % 3783. J 3800. fj 38M. TT 3704. ** 3724. ft S743. tX 3758. 3778. jUi 3781. IT^T ?-fil7. -n 38-2Q. *+ 37r,7. 3710. 37^ 3724 f[ 3726, 3728. fU 3'!'62. Hf 3772. U 3784. 99 INTRODUCTION. His son Perseus succeeded him, and reigned about eleven years.* He was defeated and taken prisoner by Paulus Emilius ; and Macedonia, in con- sequence of that victory, was added^to the provinces of the Roman empire. IV. THE KINGDOM OF THRACE AND BITHYNIA, &C. This fourth kingdom, composed of several separate provinces, very remote from one another, had not any succession of princes, and did not long subsist in its first condition ; Lysimachus, w^ho first obtained it, having been killed in a battle, after a reign of twenty years, and all his family bemg exterminated by assassinations, his dominions were dismembered, and no longer constituted one kingdom. Besides the provinces which were divided among the captains of Alex ander. there were others which had been either formed before, or were then trecteq into different and independent Grecian states, whose power greatly increased in process of time. KINGS OF BITHYNIA. While Alexander was extending his conquests in the East, Zypethes had laid the foundation of the kingdom of Bithynia.t It is not certain who this Zypethes was, unless we may conjecture with Pausanias, that he was a Thra cian.J His successors, however, are better know^n. Nicomedes I.§ This prince invited the Gauls to assist him against his brother, with whom he was engaged in a war. Prusias I. Prusias II. surnamed the Hunter, in whose court Hannibal took refuge, and assisted him with his counsels in his war against Eumenes II. king of Per- gamus.ll Nicomedes II. was killed by his son Socrates. Nicomedes III. was assisted by the Romans in his wars with Mithridates, and bequeathed to them at his death the kingdom of Bithynia, as a testimo- nial of his gratitude to them ; by which means these territories became a Roman province. KINGS OF PERGAMUS. This kingdom at first comprehended only one of the smallest provinces of Mysia, on the coast of the iEgian sea, over against the island of Lesbos. It was founded by Philatera,1[ a eunuch, who had been a servant to Doci mus, a commander of the troops of Antigonus. Lysimachus confided to him the treasures he had deposited in the castle of the city of Pergamus, and he became master both of these and the city after the death cf that prince. He governed this little sovereignty for the space of twenty years, and then left it to Eumenes his nephew. Eumenes L enlarged his principality, by the addition of several cities, which he took from the kings of Syria, having defeated Antiochus, the son of ^ Seleucus, in a battle.** He reigned twelve years. He was succeeded by Attains 1. his cousin-german, who assumed the title t>f king, after he had conquered the Galatians ;tt and transmitted it to his pos- terity, who enjoyed it to the third generation. He assisted the Romans in their war with rhilip, and died after a reign of forty-three years. He left four son.«. His successor was Eumenes U-H his eldest son, w^lio founded the famous library of Pergamus. He reigned thirty-nine years, and left the crown to his brother Attalus, in the quality of guard ipn to one of his sons, whom he had by Stratonice, the sister of Ariarathes, king of Cappadocia. The Romans * A. M. 3824. t A. M. 3r.?i. \ Piinsan. 1 y. p. 3t0. { yi. M. 371(1 || A. M. 3820 VA. M. 3721 Ant. 1 C '2'ki ** A. M. Ant. J. C. '>'33. .'t A I\r 37(13. AnLJ. C.a4l tt A. M. 3807. Ant. J. C. 197 INTRODUCTION. enlar^d his domkiions considerably, after the victoiy he obtained over Anii ochus the Great. Attalus II.* espoused Stratonice his brother's widow, and took extraordi nary care of his nephew, to whom he left the crown after he had worn it twenty -one years. Attalus Ill.t ?urnamed Philometer, distinguished himself by his barbarous and extravagant conduct. He died after he had reigned five years, and be- queathed his riches and dominions to the Romans. AristonicuSjJ who claimed the succession, endeavoured to defend his pre tensions against the Romans ; but the kingdom of Pergamus was reduced, af ter a war of four years, into a Roman province. KINGS OF PONTUS. The kingdom of Pontus in Asia Minor was anciently dismembered from the monarchy of Persia, by Darius the son of Hystaspes, in favour of Arta* bazus, who is said, by some historians, to have been the son of one of thos€ Persian lords who conspired against the magi.§ Pontus is a region of Asia Minor, and is situated partly along the coast of the Euxine sea {Pontus Euxinus,) from which it derives its name. It extends from the river Halys, as far as Colchis. Several princes reigned in that country since Artabazus. The sixth monarch was Mithridates I.|l who is properly considered as the founder of the kingdom of Pontus, and his name was assumed by the gene- rality of his successors. He was succeeded by his son Ariobarzanes,1F who had governed Phiygia under Art.axerxes Mnemon, who reigned twenty-six years. His successor was Mithridates II.** Antigones suspecting, in consequence of a dream, that he favoured Cassander, had determined to destroy him, but * he eluded the danger by flight. This prince was called Knaihst or The Foun- der^ and reigned thirty-five years. Mithridates III. succeeded him, added Cappadocia and Paphlagonia to his dominions, and reigned thirty-six years. tt After the reigns of two other kings, Mithridates, the great grandfather of Mithridates the Great, ascended the throne, and espoused the daughter cf Beleucus Callinicus, the king of Syria, by whom he had Laodice, who was Tiarried to Antiochus the Great. He was succeeded by his son Pharnaces who had some disagreement jvith the kings of Pergamus. He made himself master of Sinope, which af- ierwards became the capital of the kingdom of Pontus. After him reigned Mithridates V. surnamed Euergetes, the first who was called the friend of the Romans, because he had assisted them against the Carthaginians in the third Punic war He was succeeded by his son Mithridates VI. surnamed Eupator.§§ This is the great Mithridates, who sustained so long a war with the Romans, and reigned sixty-six years. KINGS OF CAPPADOCIA. Strabo informs us, that Cappadocia was divided into two satrapies, i)r go- vernments, under the Persians, as it also was under the Macedonians. The maritime part of Cappadocia formed the kingdom of Pontus; the other tracts constituted Cappadocia, properly so called, or the Cappadocia Major, which extends along Mount Taurus, and to a great distance beyond it.|ii| When Alexander's captains divided the provinces of his empire among tliemselves, Cappadocia was governed by a prince named Ariarathes.lFIT Per diccas attacked and defeated him, after which he caused him to be slain. * A. M. 3845. Ant. J. C, 159. f A. M. 3866. Ant. J. C. 133. t A. M. 3871. Ant J. C. 133 j A. M. 3490. Ant. J. C. 514. || A. M. 3600. Ant. J. C. 404. IT A. M. 3641. Ant J. C. 363 ♦* A. M. 3667. Ant J. C. 337. ff A. M. 3702. Ant J. C. 302. +j A. M. 3819. Ant J. C. i:»5 H A. M. 3860 Ant J. C. 124. ||U Stxab. 1. xii. p. 534. tTT A. M. 3682. Ant. J C. 329 94 INTRODUCTION. His sen Ariarathes re-entered the kingdom of his father, sometime aftei tiu i event, and established himself so effectually, that he left it to his posterity. The generality of his successors assumed the same name, and will ha v. i their place in the series of this history. Cappadocia, after the death of Archelaus, the last of its kings, became ,1 province of the Roman empire, as the rest of Asia also did, much about thn same time. KINGS OF ARMENIA. AfiMENiA, a vast country of Asia, extending on each side of the Euphrates , was conquered by the Persians ; after which it was transferred, with the res i of the empire, to the Macedonians, and at last fell to the share of the Ro mans. It was governed for a great length of time by its own kings, the moa considerable of whom was Tigranes, who espoused the daughter of ihe greai Mithridates king of Pontus, and was also engaged in a long war with the Ro mans. The kingdom supported itself many years, between the Roman and Parthian empires, sometimes depending on the one, and sometimes on the other, till at last the Romans became its masters. KINGS OF EPIRUS. Epirus is a province of Greece, separated from Thessaly and Macedonia by mount Pindus. The most powerful people of this country were the Mo lossians. The kings of Epirus pretended to derive their descent from Pyrrhus the soi of xA.chilles, who established himself in that country, and called then:?elvei iEaciJes, from iEacus the grandfather of Achilles. The genealogy of the latter kings, who were the only sovereigns of this * country of whom any accounts remain, is variously related by authors, and consequently must be doubtful and obscure.* Arymbas ascended the throne, after a long succession of kings ; and as he was then very young, the states of Epirus, who were sensible that the welfare of the people depended on the proper education of their princes, sent him to Athens, which was the residence and centre of all the arts and sciences, in order to cultivate, in that excellent school, such knowledge as was necessary to form the mind of a king. He there learned the art of reigning, and as he surpassed all his ancestors in ability and knowledge, he was in consequence infinitely more esteemed and beloved by his people than they had been."* When he returned from Athens, he made laws, established a senate and a ma- gistracy, and regulated the form of the government. Neoptolemus, whose daughter Olympias had espoused Philip king of Ma- cedon, attained an equal share m the regal government with AiTinbas, his elder brother, by the credit of his son-in-law. After the death of Arymbas, ^Eaci- des, his son, ought to have been his successor ; but Philip had still sufficient influence to procure his expulsion from the kingdom by the Molossians, who established Alexander the son of Neoptolemus sole monarch of Epirus. Alexander espoused Cleopatra the daughter of Philip, and marched with aa amiy into Italy, where he lost his life in the country of the Brutians. iEacides then ascended the throne, and reigned without any associate in Epirus. He espoused Phthia, the daughter of Menon the Thessalian, by whom he had two daughters, Deidamia, andTroias, and one son, the celebra- ted Pyrrhus. As he was marching to the assistance of Olympias, his troops mutinied against him, condemned him to exile, and slaughtered most of his friends. Pyrrhus, who was then an infant, happily escaped this massacre. Neoptolemus, a prince of the blood, but whose particular extraction is lit- tle known, was placed on the throne by the people of Epirus. ♦ Diod. 1. xvi. p. 465. Justin. 1. viii. c. 6. Plut. in Pjjrrrho. T Q-w.vnto doctior majoribuii Unto et ffratior popolo fuit. — JusUn. 1. xril. «. 9u INTRODUCTIOK. 95 Pyrrhus, bein^ recalled by his subjects at the age cf twclre yeaw. first iharedthe sovereignty with Neoptolemus, but having afterwards diiestea him of his dignity, he reigned alone. This history will treat of the various adventures of this prince. He died in the city of Argos, in an attempt to make himself master of it.* Helenus his son reigned after him for some time in Epirus, which was after- wards united to the Roman empire. TYRANTS OF HERACLEA. Heraclea is a city of Pontus, anciently founded by the Boeotians, who sent a colony into that country by 'the order of an oracle. When the Athenians, having conquered the Persians, had imposed a tri- bute on the cities of Greece and Asia Minor, for the fitting out and support of a fleet, intended for the defence of the common liberty, the inhabitants of Heraclea, in consequence of their attachment to the Persians, were the only people who refused to acquiesce in so just a contribution.! Lamachus was therefore sent against them, and he ravaged their territories ; but a violent tempest having destroj^ed his whole fleet, he beheld himself abandoned to the mercy of that people, whose natural ferocity might well have been increased by the severe treatment they had lately received. But they had recourse to no other vengeance but benefactions ; they furnished him with troops and revisions for his return, and were willing to consider the depredations which ad been committed in their country as advantageous to them, if they acqui- red the friendship of the Athenians at that price. J Some time after this event,§ the populace of Heraclea excited a violent commotion against the rich citizens and senators, who having implored assist' ance to no effect, first from Timotheus the Athenian, and afterwards from Epaminondas, the Theban, were necessitated to recal Clearchus, a senator, to their defence, whom themselves had banished ; but his exile had neither improved his morals, nor rendered him a better citizen than he was before. ^ He therefore made the troubles in which he found the city involved, subser- vient to his design of subjecting it to his own power. With this view he openly declared for the people, caused himself to be invested with the highest office in the magistracy, and assumed a sovereign authority in a short time. Being thus become a professed tyrant, there were no kinds of violence to vvhich he had not recourse against the rich and the senators, to satiate his ava- rice and cruelty. He proposed for his model Dionysius the Tyrant, who had established his power over the Syracusans at the same time. After a hard and inhuman servitude of twelve years, two young citizens, who were Plato's disciples, and had been instructed in his maxims, formed a conspiracy against Clearchus, and slew him ; but though they delivered their country from the tyrant, the tyranny still subsisted. Timotheus, the son of Clearchus, assumed his place, and pursued the same conduct for the space of fifteen years. I| He was succeeded by his brother Dionysius,^ who was in danger of bejng dispossessed of his authority by Perdiccas ; but as this last was soon de- stroyed, Dionysius contracted a friendship with Antigonus, whom he assisted against Ptolemy in the Cyprian war. He espoused Amastris, the widow of Craterus, and daughter of Oxiathres, the brother of Darius. This alliance inspired him with so much courage, that he assumed the title of king, and enlarged his dominions by the addition of several places which he seized on the confines of Heraclea. ♦ A. M. 3733. Ant. J. C. 271. f Justin. 1. xvi. c. 3—5. Diod. 1. xv. p. 390. I Heraclienses honestiorem beneficii, qiiam ultionis occasionem rati, instructos comnieatibus auxiliiiquc ^mittunt : bene agrorum suorum populationem impensam existiriantcs, si, quos hostcs habuerant, a«ico< •vMidiMent. — J ustin. j A. M. Ant. J. C. 364. |! A. M. 3«62. Ant. J. C. 353. DM. 1. ir. p. H A. M. 36G7. Aot. J. C 337 Diod. 1. x>i p. 478. Hg INTRODUCTION He died two or three years before the battle of Ipsus, aiter a reign of thli ♦y-three years, leaving two sons and a daughter under the tutelage and re jfjency^ of Amastris.* This princess was rendered happy in her administr-^tion by the affecti<^ \ntigonus entertained for her. She founded a city, and called it by her lame ; after which she transplanted *hL*.V/^r *he inhabitants of hree othet :ities, and espoused Lysimachus, alter the death oi A,±:^tTi£'^ \ KINGS OF SYRACUSE. HiEROjj; and his son Hieronymus, reigned at Syracuse ; the first fifty-four fears, the second but one year. Syracuse recovered its liberty by the death of the last, but continued in the interest of the Carthaginians, which Hieronymus had caused it to espouse. § His conduct obliged Marcellus to form the siege of that city, which he took the following year.ll I shall enlarge upon the history of these two kings in another place. OTHER KINGS. Several kings likewise reigned in the Cimmerian Bosphorus, as also in Thrace, Cyrene in Africa, Paphlagonia, Colchis, Iberia, Albania, and a vari- ety of other places ; but their history is veiy uncertain, and their successions have but little regularity. These circumstances are very different with respect to the kingdom of the Parthians, who formed themselves, as we shall see in the sequel, into such » powerful monarchy, as became formidable even to the Roman empire. That of the Bactrians also took its rise about the same period ; I shall treat of »ach in their proper places. CATALOGUE OF THE EDITIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL GREEK AUTHORS CITED IN THIS WORK. Herodotus. — Francof. An. 1608. THucYDiDES.--Apud HenHcum Stephanum, An. 1588. Xenophon. — Lutetise Parisiorum, apud Societatem Grajcarum Editionum, An. 1625. PoLYBius. — Parisiis, An. 1609. Diodorus Siculus. — Hanoviae, Typis Wechelianis, An. 1604. Plutarchus. — Lutetiae Parisiorum, apud Societatem Graecarum Editionum, An. 1624. Strabo. — Lutetise Parisiorum, Typis Regiis, An. 1620. ATHENiEus. — Lugduni. An. 1612. Pausanias. — Hanoviae, Typis Wechelianis, An. 1613. Appianus Alexander. — Apud Henric. Stephan. An. 1592. Plato. — Ex nova Joannis Serrani interpretatione. Apud Henricum Stephih num. An. 1678. Aristoteles. — Lutetiae Parisiorum, apud Societatem Graecarum Editionum, An. 1619. Isocrates. — Apud Paulum Stephanun\ An. 1604. Diogenes Laertius. — Apud Henricum Stephanum, An. 1594. Demosthenes. — Francof. An. 1604. Arrianus,— Ludgd. Batav. An. 1704. • A.M. 5700. Ant. J. C. 304. t D^od. 1 xx. p. 833. % A. M. 3735. Ant. J. C. 9fiil jA. M. 8789 Ant.J. C. 215. jj A M. 3791. Ant J C. 213. BOOK FIRST. THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE ECIYPTIB.MS. PLAN. 1 •ball divide wht . I have to say upon the Egyptians into three parts. The first contains f. ^oncl!5c desrrip lion of the differ mt parts of Egypt, and oi what is most remarkable in it ; in the second, I treat ot' th» customs, laws, a^d religion of the Egyptians ; and in the third, I give the history of tlieir kiiijs PART FIRST. DESCRIPTION OF EGYPT ; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF WHATEVER IS MOST Cimi- OUS AND REMARKABLE IN THAT COUNTRY. Egypt comprehended anciently, within limits of no very great extent, a pro- digious number of cities, and an incredible number of inhabitants.* It is bounded on the east by the Red Sea and the Isthmus of Suez, on the «outh by Ethiopia, on the west by Libya, and on the north by the Mediterra- nean. The Nile runs from south to north, through the whole countr}% about two hundred leagues in length. This country is enclosed on each side with a ridge of mountains, which very often leave, between the foot of the hills and tiie river Nile, a tract of ground of not above half a day's journey in length,1 md sometimes less. On the west side, the plain grows wider in some places, and extends to twenty-five or thirty leagues. The greatest breadth of Egypt is from Alexan dria to Damietta, being about fifty leagues. Ancient Egypt may be divided into three principal parts ; Upper Egj^pt, othf^rwise called Thebais, which was the most southern part ; Middle Egypt, or Heptanomis, so called from the seven Nomi or districts it contained ; Lower Egypt, which included what the Greeks call Delta, and all the country as far as the Red Sea, and along the Mediterranean to Rhinocolura, or Mount Casius. Under Sesostris, all Egypt became one kingdom, and was divided into thirty- six governments or Nomi ; ten in Thebais, ten in Delta., and sixteen in the country between both.J The cities of Syene and Elephantina divided Egypt from Ethiopia, and, ia the days of Augustus, were the boundaries of the Roman empire ; daukn olim nomanii'nweru^ Tacit. Annal. lib. ii. cap. 61. CHAPTER I. THEBAIS. rHEBEu, from whence Thebais had its name, miffht vie with tlie noblest ci- ries in the universe. Its hundred gates, celebrated by Homer, are universally • It it relatrd, that under Amaiis, there were twenty thousand inhabited cities in Egypt. — Herod. 1. ii • t A day's journey is Q4 eastern, or 33 I^njlish nules and a quarter. J 8trab. 1. xrli. p- 19^. Vol. f. 5 I ■ • * 99 DEHCIIIFTIOW known,* and acquired it the surname of Hecatonpylos, to distinguish it from the other Thebes in BcKotia. Its population was proportionate to its extent ;t and, according to history, it could send out at once two hundred chariots, and ten thousand fighting ii;en, at each of its gates. The Greeks and Roman* have celebrated its magnincence and grandeur, though they saw it only in its ruins ; so august were the remains of this city.J In the Thebaid, now called Said, have been discovered temples and palaces, which are still almost entire, adorned with innumerable columns and statues.6 One palace especially is admired, the remains of which seem to have existed purely to eclipse the glory of the most pompous edifices. Four walks, ex- tend mg farther than the eye can see, and bounded on each side with sphinxes, composed of materials as rare and extraordinary as their size is remarkable, serve as avenues to four porticoes, whose height is amazing to behold. And even they who have given us the description of this wonderful edifice, had not time to go round it, and are not sure that they saw above half ; however, what they had a sight of was astonishing. A hall, which to all appearance stood in the middle of this stately palace, was supported by a hundred and twenty pillars, six fathoms round, of a proportionable height, and intermixed with obelisks, which so many ages have not been able to demolish. Painting had displayed all her art and magnificence in this edifice. The colours them- selves, which soonest feel the injury of time, still remain amid the ruins of this ♦Tonderful structure, and preserve their beauty and lustre ; so happily could the Egyptians imprint a character of immortality on all their works. Strabo, who was on the spot, describes a temple he saw in Egypt, very much resem- bling that of which 1 have been speaking.il The same author,1I describing the curiosities of Thebais, speaks of a veiy famous statue of Memnon, the remains of which he had seen. It is said that this statue, when the beams of the rising sun first shone upon it in the morn- ing, uttered an articulate sound.** And indeed Strabo himself was an ear-wit- ness of this ; but then he doubts whether the sound came from the statue. CHAPTER II MIDDIiS EGYPT^ OR KSPTANOIMEZS. Memphis was the capital of this part of Egypt. In this city were to be seci. many stately temples, especially that of the god Apis, who was honoured here in a particular manner. I shall speak of it hereafter, as well as of the pyra- mids, which stood in the neighbourhood of this place, and rendered it so famous Memphis was situated on the west side of the Nile. Grand Cairo, which seems to have succeeded Memphis, was built on the other side of thatriver.jt The castle of Cairo is one of the greatest curiosities H) Egypt. It stands on a hill, without the city has a rock for its foundation, and is surrounded with walls of a vast height and solidity. You go up to the castle by a way hewn out of the rock, and which is so easy of ascent, that loaded horses and camels get up without difficulty. The greatest rarity in this castle is Joseph's well, so called, either because the Egyptians are pleased with ascribing what is most remarkable among them to that great man, or be- cause there is realiy such a tradition in the country. This is a proof at least, that the work in question is very ancienf ; and it is certainly worthy the mag- nificence of the most powerful kings of Egypt. This well has, afs it were, two stories, cut out of the solid rock to a prodigious depth. The descent to th« ♦ HoBL. II. 1. vcr. 381. t Strab. 1. xvii. p. 816. t Tacit. Ann. 1. ii. c. 60. 5 Thevenot'g Travels. || Lib. xvix. p. 805. IT P. 816. Oennanicus aliis quoque miraculis intendit animum, quornnn praecipua fuere Memnonis saxea effigi«i^ nbc ndiis solis icta est vei[;alcni sonum reddens, &x — Tacit Aan&l. 1. ii. c. 61. ft Th^veaot. OF EG^PT. 99 reservoir of wat?'', between the two wells, is by a stair case seven or eight feet broad, consisting of two hundred and tv/enty steps, and so contrived, that the oxen employed to throw up the water, go down with all imaginable ease, \he descent being scarcely perceptible. The well is supplied from a spring, which is almost the only one in the whole country. The oxen are continually turning a wheel with a rope, to which a number of buckets are fastened. The water thus drawn from the first and lowermost well is conveyed, by a little canal, into a reservoir, which forms the second well, from whence it is drawn to the top, in the same manner, and then conveyed by pipes to all parts of the castle. As this well is supposed by the inhabitants of the country to be of great antiquity, and has indeed much of the antique manner of the Eyptians, I thought it mi^'ht deserve a place among the curiosities of ancient Egypt. Strabo speaks of «unilar engine, which, by wheels and pulleys, threw up the water of the Nile to the top of a very high hill ; with this difference, that instead of oxen, a hundred and fifty slaves were employed to turn these wheels.* The part of Egypt of which we now speak is famous for several rarities, each of which deserves a particular examination. I shall mention only the principal, such as the obelisks, the pyramids, the labyrinth, the lake of Moeris, and the Nile. SECT. I. THE OBELISKS Egypt seemed to place its chief glory in raising monuments for posterity. Its obelisks form at this day, on account of their beauty as well as height, the principal ornament of Rome ; and the Roman power, despairing to equal the Egyptians, thought it honour enough to borrow the monuments of their kings. An obelisk is a quadrangular, taper, high spire or pyramid, raised perpen- dicularly, and terminating in a point, to serve as an ornament to some open square ; and is very often covered with inscriptions or hieroglyphics, that is, with mystical characters or symbols used by the Egyptians to conceal and dis guise their sacred things, and the mysteries of their theology. Sesostris erected in the city of Heliopolis two obelisks of extreme hard stone, brought from the quarries of Syene, at the extremity of Egypt. t They were each one hundred and twenty cubits high, that is, thirty fathoms, or one hundred and eighty feet. J The emperor Augustus, having made Egypt a province of the empire, caused these two obelisks to be transported to Rome, one of which was afterwards broken to pieces. He da^'ed not venture upon a third, which was of a monstrous size.§ It was made in the reign of Ramises ; it is said that twenty thousand men were employed in the cutting of it. Con- stantius, more daring than Augustus, caused it to be removed to Rome. Two of these obelisks are still to be seen there, as well as another a hundred cubits, or twenty-five fathoms high, and eight cubits, or two fathoms in diameter. Caius Caesar had it brought from Egypt, in a ship of so odd a form, that, ac- cording to Pliny, the like had never been seen.ll Every part of Egypt abounded with this kind of obelisks ; they were for the most part cut in the quarries of Upper E^pt, where some are now to be seen half finished. But the most wonderful circumstance is, that the ancient Egyptians should have had the art and contrivance to dig, even in the very quarry, a canal, through which the water of the Nile ran in the time of its inundation ; from whence they afterwards raised up the columns, obelisks, ind statues, on raftsIT proportioned to their weight, in order to convey ^hem mto Lowe*- Egypt. And as tlie country was intersected every where with sanals, there were few places tf which those huge bodies might not be carried ivith ease, although their weight ivould have broken eveiy other kind of engine. * Lib. xvii. p. 807. f I>iod. lib. i. p. 37. X I t is propftr to obsr.rve, once for all, that an Egyptian cubit, according to Mr. Greavei, was one foot inc ';nche8 and about three-fourths of our measure. { Plin. 1. xxxvi. c. 8, 9. i| Plin. 1. xxxvi. c. 9. T Kaftji ar« pieces of flat timber put together, to carry jooJs on rirers. jQQ DE8CRIPT10IV SECT. II.— THE PYRAMIDS. A PTRAMjfD IS a solid or hollow body, having a large, and generally a squara base, and terminating in a point.* There were three pyramids in E^ypt more famous than the rest, one where- of was justly ranked among the seven wonders of the world ; they did not stand very far from the city of Memphis. t 1 shall take notice here only of the largest of the three. This pyramid, like the rest, was built on a rock, having a square base, cut on the outside as so many steps, and decreasing gradually, quite to the summit. It was built with stones of a prodigious size, the least of which were thirty feet, wrought with wonderful art, and covered with hie- roglyphics. According to several ancient authors, each side was eight hun- dred feet broad, and as many high. The suinmit of the pyramid, which to those who viewed it from below seemed a point, was a fine platform, com- posed of ten or twelve massy stones, with each side of that platform sixteen or eighteen feet long. M. de Chazelles, cf the Academy of Sciences, who went purposely to the ' spot in 1693, gives us the following dimensions : The side of the square base ... 110 fathoms. The fronts are equilateral triangles, and there-) 12,100 square fore the superfices of the base is J fathoms. The perpendicular height . . - 77i fathoms. The solid contents - - - - 313,590 cubical fathoms. A hundred thousand men were constantly employed about this work, and were relieved every three months by the same number. Ten complete years were spent in hewing out the stones, either in Arabia or Ethiopia, and in con- veying them to Egypt ; and twenty years more in building this immense edi- fice, the inside of which contained numberless rooms and apartments. There were expressed on the pyramid, in Egyptian characters, the sums it cost only for garlic, leeks, onions, and other vegetables, for the workmen ; and the whole amounted to sixteen hundred talents of silver, that is, four millions five hundred thousand French livres ;J from whence it was easy to conjecture what a vast sum the whole expense must have amounted to. Such were the famous Egyptian pyramids, which by their figure, as well as size, have triumphed over the injuries of time and the barbarians. But what efforts soever men may make, their nothingness will always appear. These pyramids were tombs ; and there is still to be seen, in the middle of the largest, ^ an empty sarcophagus, cut out of one entire stone, about three feet deep and broad, and a little above six feet long.§ Thus, all this bustle, all this expense, and all the labours of so many thousand men, ended in procuring for a prince, in this vast and almost boundless pile of building, a little vault six feet in length. Besides, the kings who built these pyramids, had it not in their power to be buried in them, and so did not enjoy the sepulchre they had built. The public hatred^ which they incurred, by reason of their un- heard-of cruelties to their subjects, in laying such heavy tasks upon them, occasioned their being interred in some obscure place, to prevent their bodies from being exposed to the fuiy and vengeance of the populace. | This last circumstance, || which historians have taken particular notice of, teaches us what judgment we ought to pass on these edifices, so much boasted of by the ancients. It is but just to remark and esteem the noble genius which the Egyptians had for architecture ; a genius that prompted them from the earliest times, and before they could have any models to imitate, lo aim in all things at the grand and magnificent ; and to be intent on real beauties, without deviating in the least from a noble simplicity, in which the highest perfection of the art consists. But what idea ought we to form of those princes^* who considered as something grand, the raising by a multitude of hands ♦ Herod. 1. ii. c. 124, &c. Diod. 1. i. p. 39—41. Plin. lib. xxxvi. c. 12. f Vide Diod. Sic. t About ^-883,000. { Strabo mentions this sarcopha^tM, lib. xvii. p. SOS. {[ Died, lib ] p. 40 OF EGYPT. 101 aiid by the help of money, immense structures, with the ^le view of rend('r. ing their names immortal ; and who did not scruple to destroy thousands of their subjects to satisfy their vain glory ? They differed very much from the Romans, who sought to immortalize themselves by works of a magnificent kind, but, at the same time, of public utility. Pliny gives us, in a few words, a just idea of these pyramids, when he calls them a foolish and useless ostentation of the wealth of the Egyptian kings ; Regum pecuniae otiosa ac stulta ostentiho. And adds, that by a just punish- ment their memory is buried in oblivion; the historians not agreeing among themselves about the names of those who first raised those vain monuments. hiter eos non constat a quihus f acted sint, justissima casu ohliteratis tantce van i- tatis auctoribus.^ In a word, according to the judicious remark of Diodorus, the industry of the architects of those pyramids is no less valuable and praise- worthy than the design of the Egyptian kings contemptible and ridiculous. But what we should most admire in these ancient monuments, is, the true and standing evidence they give of the skill of the Egyptians in astronomy ; that is, in a science which seems incapable of being brought to perfection, bu/ by a long series of years, and a great number of observations. M. de Cha- zelles, when he measured the great pyramid in question, found that the four sides of it were turned exactly to the four quarters of the world ; and conse- quently showed the true meridian of that place. Now, as so exact a situa- tion was in all probability purposely pitched upon by those who piled up this huge mass of stones, above three thousand years ago ; it follows, that during so long a space of time, there has been no alteration in the heavens in that respect, or, which amounts to the same thing, in the poles of the earth or the meridians This is M. de Fontenelle's remark, in his eulogy of M. de Chazelles. SECT. nr. — THE LABYRINTH. Wha.t has been said, concerning the judgment we ought to form of the pyramids, may also be applied to the labyrinth, which Herodotus, who saw * it, assures us was still more surprising than the pyramids.! It was built at the southern extremity of the lake of Mceris, whereof mention will be made presently, near the town of Crocodiles, the same with Arsinoe. It was not so much one single palace, as a magnificent pile composed of twelve palaces, re- ularly disposed, which had a communication with each other. Fifteen hun- red rooms, interspersed with terraces, were ranged round twelve halls, and discovered no outlet to such as went to see them. There was the like num- ber of buildings under ground. These subterraneous structures were designed for the burying-place of the kings, and also, (who can speak this without con- fusion, and without deploring the blindness of man!) for keeping the sacred crocodile which a nation, so wise in other respects, worshipped as gods. In order to visit the rooms and halls of the labyrinth, it was necessary, as the reader will naturally suppose, for people to take the same precaution as Ariadne made Theseus use, when he was obliged to go and fight the Minotaur in the labyrinth of Crete. Vii^il describes it in this manner : Ut quondam Greta fertur labyrinthus in alta Parietibus textum cajcis iter ancipitemque Mille viis habuisse dolum, qufl signa sequendi Falleret indeprensus et irremeabilis error J Hie labor ille domus, et inextricabilis error. Dasdalus, ipse dolos tecti ambagesque resolvit. Caeca regens filo vestig-ia. J And as the Cretan labyrinth of old, With wandering ways, and many a winding fold, InvolvM the weary feet without redress, lo a round error, which deny'd recess: Not far from thence he grav'd the wondrous majie | A thousand d'^ors, a thousand winding wayi. * Lib. xxjvi. o«p. 12. t Herod. 1. ii. c 148. Diod. 1. i. p. 4% Plin. 1. xxxvi. c. 13. Strab. ivii. p. 811. t /Kueid. I. V. 50.1. &o j .^Ino-d. 1 v, vi- ■21, ice 70^ DESCRIPTIOI* SECT. IV. — THE LAKE OF MCERIS. The noblest and most wonderful of all the structures or works, of the KingB of Egypt, was the lake of Moeris ; accordingly, Herodotus considers it as vastly superior to the pyramids and labyrinth.* As Egypt was more or less fruitful in proportion to the inundations of the Nile ; and as in these lloods, the tco great or too little rise of the waters was equally fatal to the lands ; king Mceris, to prevent these two inconveniences, and correct, as far as lay m his power, the irregularities of the Nile, thought proper to call art to the as- sistance of nature ; and so caused the lake to be dug, which afterwards went by his name. This lake was in circumference about three thousand six bun- ded stadia, that is, about one hundred and eighty French leagues, and three hundred feet deep.t Two pyramids, on each of which was placed a colos- sal statue, seated, on a throne, raised their heads to the height of three hun- dred feet, in the midst of the lake, while their foundations took up the same space under the water ; a proof that they were erected before the cavity was filled, and a demonstration that a lake of such vast extent was the work of man's hands, in one prince's reign. This is what several historians have re- lated concerning the lake Moeris, on the testimony of the inhabitants of the country. And M. Bossuet, the bishop of Meaux, in his discourse on Uni- versal History, relates the whole as fact. For my part, I will confess that I do not see the least probability in it. Is it possible to conceive, that a lake of a hundred and eighty leagues in circumference, could have been dug in the reign of one prince ? In ^vhat manner, and whc~e could the earth taken from it be conveyed ? What should prompt the Egyptians to lose the surface of so much land? By what arts could they fill this vast tract with the super- fluous waters of the Nile ? Many other objections might be made. In my opinion, therefore, we ought to follow Pomponius Mela, an ancient geogra- pher ; especially as his account is confirmed by several modern travellers. According: to that author, this lake is about twenty thousand paces, that is, seven or ei2:ht French leagues in circumference. Mcsris aliquando campus, * nunc lacus^ viginti millia passuum in circuitu patens,^ This lake had a communication with the Nile, by a great canal more than four leagues long,§ and fifty feet broad. Great sluices either opened or shut the canal and lake, as occasion required. The charge of opening or shutting them amounted to fifty talents, that is, fifty thousand French crowns. || The fishing of this lake brought to the rno narch immense sums; but its chief use related to the overflowing of the Nile. When it arose too high, and was like to be attended with fatal consequences, the sluices were opened ; and the waters, having a free passage into the lake, covered the lands no longer than was necessary to enrich them. On the con- contrary, when the inundation was too low, and threatened a famine, a suffi- cient quantity of water, by the helf) of drains, was let out of the kke, to wa- ter the lands. In this manner, the irregularities of the "^ile were corrected ; and Strabo remarks, that, in his time, under Petronius, a governor of Egypt, when the inundation of the Nile was twelve cubits, a very great plenty en- Bued ; and even when it rose but to eight cubits, the dearth was scarce felt in the countiy ; doubtless, because the waters of the lake made up for those of the inundation, by the help of canals and drains. SECT. V. — THE INUNDATIONS OF THE NILE The Nile is the greatest wonder of Egypt. As it seldom rains there, this fiver, which waters the whole country by its regular inundations, supplies that defect, by bringing, as a yearly tribute, the rains of other countries ; which ♦ He«cd I. ii. c. 140. Strab. 1. xvii. p. 787. Diod. 1. i. p. 47. Plin. 1. v. c. 9. Pomp. Mel», 1. ) t Vide Herod, and Diod. Pliny Kgreet almosi with them. X Mela. 1. i. i Eiyhty-five »udia. y $65,000. OF EGYPT. 103 made a poet say ingeniously, The Egyptian pastures^ fww great ioever the drought may be, never implore Jupiter for rain* «• Te propter nuUos lellus tua postulat imbres, Arida nec pluvio supplicat herba Jovi."* To multiply so beneficent a river, Effypt was cut inio numberless canals, of a length and breadth proportioned to the different situations and wants of the lands. The Nile brought fertility every where with its salutary streams ; united cities one with another, and the Mediterranean with the Red Sea ; maintained trade at home and abroad, and fortified the kingdom against the enemy ; so that it was at once the nourisher and protector of Egypt. The fields were delivered up to it ; but the cities, that were raised with immense labour, and stood like islands in the midst of the waters, looked down with joy on the plains which were overflowed, and at the same time enriched, by the Nile. This is a general idea of the nature and effects of this river, so famous among the ancients. But a wonder so astonishing in itself, and which has been the object of the curiosity and admiration of the learned in all ages, seems to re quire a more particular description, in which I shall be as concise as possible. I. THE SOURCES OF THE NILE. The ancients placed the sources of the Nile in the mountains of the moon (as they are commonly called,) in the 10th degree of south latitude. But our modern travellers have discovered that they lie in the 12th degree of north latitude : and by that means they cut off about four or five hundred leagues of the course which the ancients gave that river. It rises at the foot of a ^reat mountain in the kingdom of Gojam in Abyssinia, from two springs, or eyes, to speak in the language of the country, the same word in Arabic signitying eye and fountain. These springs are thirty paces from one another, each as *arge as one of our wells or a coach wheel. The Nile is increased with many fivulets which run into it ; and after passing through Ethiopia in a very wind- ing course, flows at last into Egypt. ^ II. THE CATARACTS OF THE NILE. This name is given to some parts of the Nile, where the water falls down ^om the steep rocks. t This river, which at first glided smoothly along the rast deserts of Ethiopia, before it enters Egypt, passes by the cataracts. Then growing on a sudden, contrary to its nature, raging and violent in those places where it is pent up and restrained ; after having at last broke through all ob- stacles in its way, it precipitates itself^rom the top of some rocks to the bot- tom, with so loud a noise that it is heard three leagues off. The inhabitants of the country, accustomed by long practice to this sport, exhibit here a spectacle to travellers that is more terrifying than diverting. Two of them go into a little boat ; the one to guide it, the other to throw out (he water. After having long sustained the violence of the raging waves, by managing their little boat very dexterously, they suffer themselves to be car- ried away with the impetuous torrent as swift as an arrow. The affi-ighted gpectator imagines they are going to be swallowed up in the precipice down which they fall ; when the Nile, restored to its natural course, discovers them * Seneca (Nat. Q^uaest. 1. iv. c. 2.) ascribes these verses to Ovid, but they are Tibullus's. f Excipiunt eum (Nilum) cataractas, nobilis icsigni spectaculo locus. 1 lie excitatis primilm aqois, i{uas sine tumultu leni alveo duxerat, violenlus et torrens per malignos transitus prosilit, dissimilis sibi tandemque elu'-.tatus obstantia, in vastam altitudinem subito destilutus cadil» cum ingenti circumjacentiiui regionuni strepitu ; quem perferre gens ibi \ Persis collocata non potuit, obtusis assiduo fragore auribus, et cb hoc sedibus ad quietiora translatis. Inter miracula fluminis incredibil'»m incolarum audaciam accept Itiai parvula navigia conscendunt, quorum alter navem regit, alter exhaurit. Deinde multum inter rapidaa iAS»j:iam Niii et reciprocos fluctus volutati, tandem tenuissimos canales tenent, per quos angusta rupioin •ITufitint' et cum toto rtumine effusi a-^vi^ium ruens manu temperant, magnoque spectantium metu in caput Ittxi, cum jam adploraveris mersosqu atque obrutos tanta. mole credideris, longd ab eo in quern ceciderMH k>R«. navipaot, tormeuti inodo missi. Nec meruit cadens unda «ed planis aquis tradlt — Seoec Nat. (^uftit DESCRIPTION sigfain, at a considerable distance, on its smooth and calm waters Thi% m Seneca's account, which is confirmed by our modem travellers. III. CAUSES OF THE INUNDATIONS OF THE NILE. The ancients have invented many subtle reasons for tha Nil^'s great in crease, as may be seen in Herodotus, Diodorus Siculus, and Seneca,* But i\ is now no longer a matter of dispute, it being almost universally allowed, thai the inundations of the Nile are owing to the great rains which fall in Ethiopia, from whence this river flows. These rains swell it to such a degree, that Ethiopia first, and then Egypt, are overflowed ; and that which at first was but a large river, rises like a sea, and overspreads the whole country. Strabo observes, that the ancients only guessed that the inundations of the Nile were owing to the rains which fall in great abundance in Ethiopia : but adds, that several travellers have since been eye-witnesses of it ;t Ptolemy Philadelphus, who was veiy curious in all things relating to the arts and sci- ences, having sent thither able persons, purposely to examine this matter, and to ascertain the cause of so uncommon and remarkable an efiiect. IV. THE TIME AND CONTINUANCE OF THE INUNDATIONS. Herodotus, t and after him Diodorus Siculus, and several other authors, declare that the Nile begins to flow in Egypt at the summer solstice, that is, about the end of June, and continues to rise till the end of September, and then decreases gradually during the months of October and November ; aflei which it returns to its channel, and resumes its wonted course. This account agrees very nearly with the relations of all the moderns, and is founded in reality on the natural cause of the inundation, viz. the rains \yh\ch fall in Ethiopia. Now, according to the constant testimony of those who have beei< on the spot, these rains begin to fall in the month of April, and continue, during five months, till the end of August and beginning of September. The Nile's increase in Egypt must consequently begin three weeks or a month af- ter the rains have begun to fall in Abyssinia ; and, accordingly, travellers ob serve, that the Nile begins to rise in the month of May, but so slowly at the first, that it probably does not yet overflow its banks. The inundation hap- pens not till about the end of June, and lasts the three following months, ac- cording to Herodotus. . . *. 1 must point out to such as consult the originals, a contradiction in this place between Herodotus and Diodorus on one side ; and between Strabo, rliny, and Solinus, on the other. These last shorten very much the continuance of the inundation ; and suppose the Nile'lo retire from the lands in three months, or a hundred days. And what adds to the difficulty is, that Pliny seems to ground his opinion on the testimony of Herodotus : fn totum autem revocatur Nilus intra ripas in libra, ut tradit Herodotus^ centesimo die. I leave to the learned the reconciling of this contradiction V. THE height OF THE INUNDATION. The just height of the inundation, according to Pliny, is sixteen cubits.§ \\ hen it rises but twelve or thirteen, a famine is threatened ; and when it ex- rrcds sixteen, there is danger. It must be remembered, that a cubit is a toot iFid a half. The emperor Julian takes notice, in a letter to Ecdicius, prefect ( r Egypt, that the height of the Nile's overflowing was fifteen cubits, the 20th of September, in 362.|| The ancients do not agree entirely with one another, tior with the modems, with regard to the height of the inundation; but thi ♦ Herod. 1. ii. c. 19—27. Diod. 1. i. p. 35—39. Senec. Nat. Qutest. 1. iv. c. 1. ct 2. t Lib. xvii. p. 789. ; Herod. 1. ii. c. 19. Diod. 1. i. p. 32. } Justiim iocrementum est cubitorum xvi. Minores aqure non omnia rigant : ampliores detinenl, tardifii rccedendo. Hrj serendi tempora absumunt solo madenle : ilia; non dant sitiente. Utrumque reputal pr©- vincia. In duodecim cubitis famem sentit, in tredecirn etianinum esllr<^ quatuorieclm cubit« bilvritatev aileruit, qniode'rim securilalem, se-Kdec'.n dclicias. — Plin. 1. v. c. 9. II Jul. rpist. 5a OF EGYPT. 105 difference is not very considerable, and may proceed, 1. from the disparity between the ancient and modern measures, which it is hard to estimate on a fixed and certain foot ; 2. from the carelessness of the observers and histo- rians; 3. from the real difference of the Nile's increase, which was not so g;reat the nearer it approached the sea. As the riches of Egypt depended on the inundation of the Nile, all the cir- cumstances and different degrees of its increase were carefully considered ; and by a long series of regular observations, made during many years, the inundation itself discovered what kind of harvest the ensuing year was likely to produce.* The kings had placed at Memphis a measure on which these different increases were marked; and from thence notice was given to all the rest of Egypt, the inhabitants of which knew, by that means, beforehand, what they might fear or promise themselves from the harvest. Strabo speaks of a well on the banks of the Nile, near the town of Syene, made for that purpose.! The same custom is observed to this day at Grand Cairo. In the court of a mosque there stands a pillar, on which are marked the degrees of the Nile's increase ; and common criers every day proclaim in all parts of the city, how high it is risen. The tribute paid to the grand signior lor the lands, is regu- lated by the inundation. The day on which it rises to a certain height, is kept as a grand festival, and solemnized with fire-works, feasting, and all the demonstrations of public rejoicing ; and in the remotest ages, the overflowing of the Nile was always attended with an universal joy throughout all Egypt, that being the fountain of its happiness. The heathens ascribed the inundation of the Nile to their god Serapis ; and the pillar on which was marked the increase, was preserved religiously in the temple of that idol.J The emperor Constantine having ordered it to be re- moved into the church of Alexandria, the Egyptians spread a report, that the Nile would rise no more by reason of the wrath of Serapis ; but the river overflowed and increased as usual the following years. Julian, the apostate, a zealous protector of idolatry, caused this pillar to be replaced in the same temple, out of which it was again removed by the command of Theodosius. VI. THE CANALS OF THE NILE, AND SPIRAL PUMPS. Divine Providence, in giving so benefxent a river to Egypt, did not thereby intend that the inhabitants of it should be idle, and enjoy so great a blessing, without taking any pains. One may naturally suppose, that as the Nile could not of itself cover the whole country, great labour was to be used to facilitate the overflowing of the lands ; and numberless canals cut, in order to convey the waters to all parts. The villages, which stood very thick on the banks of the Nile, on eminences, had each their canals, which were opened at pro- per times, to let the water into the country. The more distant villages had theirs also, even to the extremities of the kingdom. Thus the waters were successively conveyed to the most remote places. Persons are not permitted to cut the trenches to receive the waters, till the river is at a certain height, nor to open them altogether ; because otherwise some lands would be too much overflowed, and others not covered enough. They begin with opening them in Upper, and afterwards in Lower Egypt, accord.ing to the rules prescribed m a roll or book, in which all the measures are exactly set down. By this means the water is husbanded with such care, that it spreads itself over all the lands. The countries overflowed by the Nile are so extensive, and lie so low, and the number of canals is so great, that of all the waters which ^ov into Egypt during the months of June, July, and August, it is believed thake notice of, a kind of contradiction. This circumstance is owing, either to the difference of countries and nations which did not always follow the same •isages, or to the different way of thinking of the historians whom I copy. • CHAPTER I. CONCERNXNa THE KINGS AHB GOVEHNMEIf T. The Egyptians were the first people who rightly understood the lules of go rernment. A nation so grave and serious, immediately perceived, that thp irue end of politics is to make life easy, and a people happy. ♦ De Scribend. Hist. p. 706. f Ne A lexandriuis qui .'em perrnittenda deliciia. — ^ Plut. in Caes. p. 731. Seneoa de tranquil, nniin. c. ix. \ A quarter or division of th« city of Al^f xjndria. |{ AcU vii 22. Quiati} OF THE EGYPTIANS. Ill The kingdom was hereditary ; but, according to Diodonis, the Egyptian princes conducted themselves in a different manner from what is usually seen in other monarchies, where the prince acknowledges no other rule of his ac tions but his own arbitrary will and pleasure.* But here, kings were undef gre-^ter restraint than their subjects. They had some particular ones, digested by a former monarch, that composed part of those books which the Egyptians called Sdcred. Thus, every thing being settled by ancient custom, they never so'^ght to live in a different way from their ancestors. Is 0 slave nor foreigner was admitted into the immediate service of the prince ; such a post was too important to be entrusted to any persons, except those who were the most distinguished by their birth, and had received the most excellent education ; to the end that, as they had the liberty of approach- ing the king's person day and night, he might, from men so qualified, heal nothing which was unbecoming the royal majesty ; or have any sentiments instilled into him, but such as were of a noble and generous kind. For, adds Diodorus, it is very rarely seen, that kings fly out into any vicious excess un- less those who approach them approve their irregularities, or serve as instru- ments to their passions. The kings of Egypt freely permitted, not only the quality and proportion of their eatables and liquids to be prescribed them, (a thing customary in Egypt, the inhabitants of which were all sober, and whose air inspired frugal- ity ;) but even that all their hours, and almost every action, should be under the regulation of the laws. In the morning at day-break, when the head is clearest, and the thoughts most unperplexed, they read the several letters they received, to form a more just and distinct idea of the affairs which were to come under their considera- tion that day. As soon as they were dressed, they went to the da^ly sacrifice performed in the temple ; w^here, surrounded with their whole court, and the victims placed before the altar, they assisted at the prayer pronounced aloud by the high- riest, in which he asked of the gods health and all other blessings for the ing, because he governed hjfi people with clemency and justice, and made the laws of hi€ kingdom the rule and standard of his actions. The high-priest entered into a long detail of his royal virtues ; observing that he was religious to the gods, affable to men, moderate, just, magnanimous, sincere ; an enemy to falsehood, liberal, master of his passions, punishing crimes with the utmost lenity, but boundless in rewarding merit. He never spoke of the faults which kings might be guilty of, but supposed at the same time, that they never com- mitted any, except by surprise or ignorance ; and loaded with impreoations such of their ministers as gave them ill counsel, and suppressed or disguised the truth. Such were the methods of conveying instruction to their kings. It was thought that reproaches would only sour their tempers ; and that the moit effectual method to inspire them with virtue, would be to point out to them their duty in praises conformable to the sense of the laws, and pronounced in a solemn manner before the gods. After the prayers and sacrifice were ended, the counsels and actions of great men were read to the king out of the sacred books, in order that he might govern his dominions according to their maxims, and maintain the laws which had made his predecessors and their subjects 80 happy. I have already observed, that the quantity as well as quality of both eatables and liquids were prescribed by the laws to the king ; his table was covered with nothing but the most common food, because eating in Egypt was design- ed not tc please the palate, but to satisfy the cravings of nature. One would have concluded, (observes the historian,) that these rules had been laid down by some able physician, who was attentive only to the health of the prince, father than by a legislator. The same simplicity was seen in all other things • Dmi. 1. i. |w 6S, Jee. 112 MAI^NEItS AND CUISTOMa and we read in Plutarch, of a temple in Thebes, which had one of its pillar* inscribed with imprecations against that king who first introduced profusion and luxury into Egypt.* The principal duty of kings, and their most essential function, is the admini- stering of justice to their subjects. Accordingly, the kings of Egypt cultivated more immediately this duty ; convinced that on this depended not only the ease and comfort of individuals, but the happiness of the state ; which would be a herd of robbers, rather than a kingdom, should the weak be unprotect- ed, and the powerful enabled by their riches and influence, to commit crimes with impunity. Thirty judges were selected out of the principal cities, to form a body for dispensing justice through the whole kingdom. The prince, in filling these vacancies, chose such as were most renowned for their honesty, and put at their head him who was most distinguished for his knowledge and love of the laws, and was had in the most universal esteem. By his bounty, they had revenues assigned them, to the end that, being freed from domestic cares, they might devote their whole time to the execution of the laws. Thus, honour- ably maintained by the generosity of the prince, they administered gratui- tously to the people, that justice to which they have a natural right, and which ought to be equally open to all ; and, in some sense, to the poor more than the rich, because the latter find a support within themselves; whereas the very condition of the former exposes them more to injuries, and therefore calls louder for the protection of the laws. To guard against surprise, affairs were transacted by writing in the assemblies of these judges. That false elo- quence was dreaded, which dazzles the mind, and moves the passions. Truth could not be expressed with too much plainness, as it was to have the only sway in judgments ; because in that alone the rich and poor, the powerful and weak, the learned and the ignorant, were to find relief and security. The resident of this senate wore a collar of gold set with precious stones, at which ung a figure represented blind, this being called the emblem of truth. When the president put this collar on, it was understood as a signal to enter upo;^ business. He touched the party with it who \^as to gain his cause, and this was the form of passing sentence. The most excellent circumstance in the laws of the Egyptians, was, tba every individual, from his infancy was nurtured in the strictest observance oJ them. A new custom in Egypt was a kind of miracle.! All things there ran in the old channel ; and the exactness with which little matters were ad- hered io, preserved those of more importance ; consequently no nation evei preserved their laws and customs longer than the Egyptians. Wilful murder was punished with death, whatever might be the condition of the murdered person, whether he was free-born or otherwise.^ In this the humanity and equity of the Egyptians was superior to that of the Romans who gave the master an absolute power as to life and death oyer his shve The emperor Adrian, indeed, abolished this law, from an opfnion,'that an abuse of this nature ought to be reformed, let its antiquity or authority be eves io great. Perjury was also punished with death, because that crime attacks both the gods, whose majesty is trampled upon by invoking their name to a false oath, and men, by breaking the strongest tie of human society, viz. sincerity and hf>nesty.§ The false accuser was condemned to undergo the punishment which the person accused was to suffer, had the accusation been proved.|| He who had neglected or refused to save a man's life when attacked, if it was in his power to assist him, was punished as rigorously as the assassin j but if the unfortunate person could not be succoured, the offender was at least to be impeached, and penalties were decreed for any neglect of thif * Dc Isid. etOsir. p. 3M. f Plut. iu Tim. p. «3.'-0. t Vf'iod. ]. i. p. 70. { Pas;e 69. p OV THE EGVn iANa US kind.* Thus the subjects were a guard and })rotection lo one another ; ;>iid the whole body of the community unitea against the designs of the bad. No man was allowed to be useless to the rtate ; but every man was obliged to enter his name and place of abode in a public register, that remained in tlie hands of the magistrate, and to stale his profession, and means of sup- port.t If he gave a false account of himself, he was immediately put to death. To prevent the borrowing of money, the parent of sloth, frauds, and chi- cane, king Asychus made a very judicious law.J The wisest and best njau- lated states, as Athens and Rome, ever found insuperable difficulties, in con- triving a just medium to restrain, on the one hand, the cruelty of the creditoi in the exaction of his loan ; and, on the other, the knavery of the debtor, who refused or neglected to pay his debts. Now, Egypt took a wise course on this occasion ; and without doing an injury to the personal liberty of its in- habitants, or ruining their families, pursued the delj^or with incessant fears oi infamy in case he were dishonest. No man was permitted to borrow money without pawning to the creditor the body of his father, which every Eg3'p- tian embalmed with great care ; and kept reverentially in his house, (as will be observed in the sequel,) and therefore might easily be moved from one place to another. But it was equally impious and infamous not to redeem soon so precious a pledge ; and he who died without having discharged this duty, was deprived of the customaiy honour paid to the dead.§ Oiodorus remarks an error committed by some of the Grecian legisIators.il They forbid, for instance, the taking away (to satisfy debts) the horses, ploughs, and other implements of husbandry employed by peasants ; judging it inhuman to reduce, by this security, these poor men to an impossibility of dischai^ing their debts, and getting their bread : but at the same time they permitted the creditor to imprison the peasants themselves, who alone were capable cf using these implements ; which exposed them to the same incon- veniences, and at the same time deprived the government of persons who be- long, and are necessary to it; who labour for the public emolument, and over whose person no private man has any right. .Polygamy was allowed in Egypt, except to priests, who could marry but one woman. ^ Whatever was the condition of the woman, whether she was free or a slave, her children were deemed free and legitimate. One custom that was practised in Egypt, shows the profound darkness into which such nations as were most celebrated for their wisdom have been plunged ; and this is the marriage of brothers with their sisters, which was not only authorized by the lay*^s, but even, in some measure, was a part of their religion, from the example and practice of such of their gods as had been the most anciently and universally adored in Egypt, that is, Osiris and Isis.** A very great respect was there paid to old age. The young were obliged to rise up for the old, and on every occasion to resign to them the most ho- nourable seat. The Spartans borrowed this law from the Egyptians. It The virtue in the highest esteem among the Egyptians, was gratitude.* The glory which has been given them of being the most grateful of all men, shov. s that they were the best formed of any nation for social life. Benefits are the band ot concord, both public and private. He who acknowledges favours, loves to do good to others ; and in banishing ingratitude, the pleasure of doing good remains so pure and engaging, that it is impossible for a man to be in- sensible to il • but no kind of gratitude gave the Egyptians a more pleasing * D" d 1. i. p. 69. r I.Iern. - M \ ]]. r. t> . f This law put the whole sepulchre of the debtor into the poTver of the crrditor, who removed to h« own house the body of llse fatJier: the debtor refusing- to discharg-e his obligation, was to be deprived q{ onrial, either in l:is f.ither's sepulchre or any other; imd while he lived, he was not perrr;itted to buiy any person descended froin him. Miv3{ aurw {xti'vw Tf XfuTTiaavTi tTvai 7a(pnf xuPncrai— pint' dUov Lin5{va y \ icLvr^ arro 7;.vojl£v-v i-a\i/>'ii — Herod. H Diod. 1. i. p. 11. V Diod. 1. i. p. ~,Z. ** Idem. 2'2. ff Herod I e. 94i 114 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS satisfaction, than that which was paid to their kings. Princes, while living, were by them honoured as so many visible representations of the Deity ; aira after their death were mourned a^ the fathers of their country. These senti- •nents of respect and tenderness, proceeded from a strong persuasion, that ihe Divinity himself had placed them upon the throne, as he distinguished ^hem so greatly from all other mortals ; and that kings bore the most ncble characteristics of the Supreme Being, as the power and will of doing good others are united in their persons. CHAPTER 11. OONCEHNZNa TKZ3 FRXSSTS AND HBZiIGZON OP THZ2 ZSGYPTIASfS. Priests, in Egypt, helS the second rank to kings. They had great privi- leges and revenues; their lands were exempted from all imposts; of which some traces are seen in Genesis, where it is said, Joseph made it a laz2) over the land of Egypt ^ that Pharaoh should have the fifth party except the land of the priests only, which became not Pharaoh'' s»^ • The prince usually honoured them with a large share in his confidence and government, because they, ol all his subjects, had received the best educa- tion, had acquired the greatest knowledge, and were most strongly attached to the king's person and the good of the public. They were at the same time the depositaries of religion and of the sciences ; and to this circum- stance was owing the great respect which was paid them by the natives as well as foreigners, by whom they were alike consulted upon the most sacred things relating to the mysteries of religion, and the most profound subjects in the several sciences. The Egyptians pretend to be the first institutors of festivals and proces- sions in honour of the gods. One festival was celebrated in the city of Bu- bastus, whither persons resorted from all parts of Egypt, and upwards of seventy thousand, besides children, were seen at it. Another, surnamed the Feast of the Lights, was solemnized at Sais. All persons, throughout Egypt, who did not go to Sais, were obliged to illuminate their windows.t Different animals were sacrificed in different countries ; but one common and general ceremony was observed in all sacrifices, viz, the laying of hands upon the head of the victim, loading it at the same time with imprecations, and praying the gods to divert upon that victim, all the calamities which mjpfht threaten Egypt.J it is to Egypt that Pythagoras owed his favourite doctrine of the metemp- sychosis, or transmigration of souls. The Egyptians believed, that at the death of men, their souls transmigrated into other human bodies ; and that, if they had been vicious, they were imprisoned in the bodies of unclean or ill conditioned beasts, to expiate in them their past transgressions : and thataftpy a revolution of some centuries, they again animated other human bodies.§ The priests had the possession of the sacred books, which contained^ at large, the principles of governmer^t, as well as the mysteries of divine wor- ship. Both were commonly involved in symbols and enigmas, which under these veiiS made truth more venerable, and excited more strongly the curiositjr of men. II The figure of Harpocrater>, in the Egyptian sanctuaries, with his finger upon his mouth, seemed to intimate, that mysteries were there inclosed, the knowledge of which, was revealed but to very few. The sphinxes, placed at the entrance of all temples, implied the same. It is very well known, that pyramids, obelisks, pillars, statues, in a word, all public monuments, were • Prcji. xlvii. 2d t Herot!. 1. ii. c. 60. i Herod. 1. \\. c. 39. h Uiod. 1. i. p. M IJ Plut. de I A. »♦ '^-ir p. 354 ^ OF THE EGVPTLANS. lib usually adorned with hieroglyphics, that is, with symbolical writings ^ Vfhether these were characters unknown to the vulgar, or figures of animals, under which was couched a hidden and parabolical meaning. Thus, by a hare was signified a lively and piercing attention, because this creature has a very delicate sense of hearing.* The statue of a judge without hands, and with eyes fixed upon the ground, symbolized the duties of those who were to exer- cise the judiciary functions.! It would require a volume to treat fully of the religion of the Egyptians. But I shall confine myself to two articles, which form the principal part of it ; and these are, the worship of the different deities, and the ceremonies relating lo funerals SECT. I. — THE WORSHIP OF THE VARIOUS DEITIES. Never were any people more superstitious than the Egyptians. They had a great number of gods, of different orders and degrees, w^hich I shall omit, because they belong more to fable than to history. Among the rest, two were universally adored in that country, and these were Osiris and Isis, which are thought to be the sun and moon ; and, indeed, the worship of those planets gave rise to idolatry. Besides these gods, the Egyptians wwshipped a great number of beasts ; as the ox, the dog, the wolf, the hawd<, the crocodile, the ibis,J: the cat, &c. Many of these beasts were the objects of the superstition only of some parti cular cities ; and while one people worshipped one species of animals as gods, their neighbours had the sam.e animal gods In abomination. This was the source of the continual wars which were carried on between one city and another ; and this was owing to the false policy of one of their kings, who to deprive them of the opportunity and means of conspiring against the state, endeavoured to amuse them, by engaging them in religious contests. I call this a false and mistaken policy, because it directly thwarts the true spirit of government, the aim of w^iich is, to unite all its members in the strictest ties, and to make all its strength consist in the perfect harmony of its several parts. Every nation had a great zeal for their gods. "Among us," says Cicero, "it is very common to see temples robbed, and statues carried of!'; but it was never known, that any person in Egypt ever abused a crocodile, an ibis, a cat ; for its inhabitants w^ould have suffered the most extreme torments, rather than be guilty of such sacrilege. "§ It was death for any person to kill one of these animals voluntarily; and even a punishment was decreed against him who should have killed an ibis, or a cat, with or without design. || Diodorus relates an incident, to w^ich he himself was an eye-w'itness, during his stay in Egypt. A Roman having inadvertently, and without design, killed a cat, the exasperated populace ran to his house, and neither the authority of the king, w^ho immediately detached a body of his guards, nor the terror of the Roman name, could rescue the unfortunate criminal. 1l And such was the reve- rence which the Egyptians had for these animals, that in an extreme famine they chose to eat one another, rather than feed upon their imagined deities. Of all these animals, the bull Apis, called Epapttus by the Greeks, was the fciost famous.** Magnificent temples were erected lo him ; extraordinary ho- nours were paid him, while he lived, and still greater after his death. Egypt went then into a general mourning. His obsequies were solemnized with mch pomp as is hardly credible, in the reign of Ptolemy Lagus, the bull \pi? dying of old age,tt the funeral pomp, besides the ordinary expenses, miounted to upwards of fifty thousand French crowns.JJ After the last honours ♦ Plut. Sympos. 1. iv. p. 670. f Id. de Isld. p. 355. * Or ihe F.<^yplir.n stork. J De Nat. l)io^- 1- »• P- 47 II About |6J0. { Herod. 1. u. c tS, fee. OF T»E EGYPTIAN a. Many hands v/ere employed in this cereinonv.* Some drew th« fcraSa Uirougi) the nostrils, by an instrument made for that purpose. Others emp- tied the bowels and intestines, by cutting a hole in the side, with an Ethiopian stone that was as sharp as a razor; after which the cavities were filled with perfumes and various odoriferous drugs. As this evacuation, (which was ne* cessarily attended with some dissections,) seemed ir. some measure cruel and inhuman, the persons employed fled as soon as the operation was over, and were pursued with stones by the spectators. . But those w^ho embalmed the body were honourably treated. They filled it with myrrh, cinnamon, and nil sorts of spices. After a certain time, the body was swathed in lawn fil- lets, which were glued together with a kind of very thin gum, and then crusted over with the most exquisite perfumes. By this means, it is said, that theentire figure of the body, the very lineaments of the face, and the hair on the lids ?nd eye-brov/s, were preserved in their natural perfection. The body thus embalm- ed, was delivered to the relations, who shut it up in a kind of open chest, fitted exactly to the size of the corpse ; then they placed it upright against the wall, either in sepulchres, if they had any, or in their houses. These embalmed bo dies are now what we call mummies, which are still brought from Egypt, and are found in the cabinets of the curious. This shows the care which the Eg^/p- tians took of their dead. Their gratitude to their deceased relations was im- mortal. Children, by seeing the bodies of their ancestors thus preserved, recalled to mind those virtues for which the public had honoured tnem ; and were excited to a love of those laws which such excellent persons had left for their security. We find that part of these ceremonies were performed in the funeral honours paid to Joseph in Egypt. I have said that the public recognised the virtues of deceased persons, be- cause that, before they could be admitted into the sacred asylum of the tomb, they underwent a solemn trial. And this circumstance in the Egyptian funerals, is one of the most remarkable to be found in ancient history. It was a consolation, among the heathens, to a dying man, to leave a good name behind him, imagining that this is the only human blessing of which death cannot deprive us. But the Egyptians would not suffer praises to be bestowed indiscriminately on all deceased persons. This honour was to be obtained only from the public voice. The assembly of the judges met on the other side of a lake, which they crossed in a boat. He who sat at the helm was called Charon, in the Egyptian language ; and this first gave the hint to Orpheus, who had been in Egypt, and after him to the other Greeks, to invent the fiction of Charon's boat. As soon as a man was dead, he was brought to his trial. The public accuser was heard. If he proved tliat the deceased had led a bad life, his memory w^as condemned, and he was depri- ved of burial. The people admired the power of the laws, w-hich extended even beyond the grave ; and every one, struck with the disgrace inflicted on the dead person, was afraid to reflect dishonour on his own memory, and his family. Bui if the deceased person was not convicted of any crime, he wag interred in an honourable manner. A still more astonishing circumstance in this public inquest upon the dead, was, that the throne itself was no protection from it. Kings were spared du- ring their lives, because the public peace was concerned in this forbearance ; nut their quality did not exempt them from the judgment passed upon the 'lead, and even some of them were deprived of sepulture. This custom w^as imitated by the Israelites. We see in Scripture, that bad kings were not in- tf'n ed in the monuments of their ancestors. This practice suggested to princes, that if their majesty placed them out of the reach of men's judgment while they were alive, they would at last be liable to it, when should reduce Ihei/. : 1 "rr^L- jx^.f When, tbereiore, a favourable judgment was pronounced on a deceased »crson, the next thing was to proceed to the ceremonies of interment. In has * Dlod 1 :. r 8i- 120 MANiVERS AND CUnOMIS panegyric, no mention was made of his birth, because every Egyptian wai deemed noble. No praises were considered as just or true, but such as rrla- ted to the personal merit of the deceased. He was applauded for having re* ceived an excellent education in his younger yv^ars ; and in his more advan- ced age, for having cultivated piety towards the gods, justice towards men, gentleness, modesty, moderation, and all other virtues which constitute the good man. Then all the people shouted, and bestowed the highest eulogie? on the deceased, as one who would be received for ever into the society of the virtuous in Pluto's kingdom. To conclude this article of the ceremonies of funerab, U may not be amiss to observe to young pupils, the different manners in which the bodies of tht dead were treated by the ancients. Some, as we observed of the Egyptians, exposed them to view after they had been embalmed, and thus preserved them to after ages. Others, as the Romans, burnt them on a funeral pile • and others, again, laid them in the earth. The care to preserve bodies without lodging them m tombs, appears inju- rious to human nature in general, and to those persons in particular for whom this respect is designed ; because it exposes too visibly their wretched state and deformity, since, whatever care may be taken, spectators see nothing but the melancholy and frightful remains of what they once were. The custom of burning dead bodies has something in it cruel and barbarous, in destroying so hastily the remains of persons once dear to us. That of interment is cer- tainly the most ancient and religious. It restores to the earth what had been taken from it ; and prepares our belief of a second restitution of our bodies, from that dust of which they were at first formed. CHAPTER HI. or TKE Ea?PTZAH SDIaBZEH g AND WAH. The profession of arms was in great repute among the Egyptians. Aftei the sacerdotal families, the most illustrious, as with us, were those devoted to a militaiy life. They were not only distinguished by honours, but by ample liberalities. Every soldier was allowed twelve arourae, that is, a piece of arable land, very nearly answering to half a French acre,* exempt from all tax or tribute. Besides this privilege, each soldier received a daily allowance of five pounds of bread, two of flesh, and a quart of wine.t This allowance was sufficient to support part of their family. Such an indulgence made them more affectionate to the person of their prince, and the interests of their coun- try, and more resolute in the defence of both ; and, as Diodorus observes, it was thought inconsistent with good policy, and even common sense, to coi?i- mit the defence* of a country to men who had no interest in its preservation.! Four hundrcvl thousand soldiers, were kept in continual pay, all natives oi Egypt, and trained up in the exactest discipline. § They were inured to the fatigues of war, by a severe and rigorous education. There is an art of form- ing the body as well as the mind. This art, lost by our sloth, was w^ell known to the ancients, and especially to the Egyptians. Foot, horse, and chariot ^ races, were perfonned in Egypt with wonderful agility, and the world could not show better horsemen than the Egyptians. The Scripture in several places speaks advantageously of their cavalry. || ♦ Twelve arourae. An E^^yptian aroura was 10,000 square cubits, equal to three roods, two p^fchea, 65 l-4th square feet of our measnrft. I The Greek lioivou r'iaaa^es (kou^^^es, which some have made to signify a determinate qviantitj of wine, or any other liquid ; others, regardin^f the etymology of the word dPuaTrif , have translated it bj hausirum, a bucket, as I^iicretius, lib. v. 1. 51 ; others, by hmistus, a draught or sup Herodotus says this •Howaoce was given onlv to the two thousand guards who attended annually r>n the kiofi. — Lib. ii. c. 1^8 I Lib. i. p. 67. { Herod. 1, v. c. 164, 168. || Cant. i. 8. Isa. xxxvi. f. OF THE EGYPTIAiNS. 121 Military laws were easily preserved in Egypt, because sons received thftn from their fathers ; the profession of war, as all others, being transmiUed from fa-ther to son. Those who fled in battle, or discovered any signs of coward- ice, were only distinguished by some particular mark of ignominy ; it being thought more adviseable to restrain them by motives of honour, than by the terrors of punishment. But notwithstanding this, I will not pretend to say that the Egyptians were a warlike people.* it is of little advantage to have regular and well-paid troops ; to have armies exercised in peace, and employed only in mock-fighta ; it is war alone, and real combats, which form the soldier. Egypt loved peace, because it loved justice, and maintained soldiers only for its security. Its in* habitants, content with a country which abounded in all things, haa no anibi* tious dreams of conquest. The Egyptians extended their reputation in a very different manner, by sendine colonies into all parts of the world, and wiXn them laws and politeness. They triumphed by the wisdom of their counsels, and the superiority of their knowledge ; and this empire of thre mind appear- ed more noble and glorious to them, than that which is achieved by arms an!-nonie Ihroughoi't Earvpt, as they haJ the care of so impure an animal Hf'ro<1otii«, 1. ii. c. 47, irlls 11.=. t'';;t fhcy were not permitted to ente Ihe Egyptian temples- %9t w%uld any mnn tfiv; lliejn Jii.- d.T.ii-ht»;r i 1 iiirtrrlas:e. 134 MANNERS AM) CUSTOMS to the husbandman. ; and with many people a wealthy citizen, enervated with sloth, useless to the public, and void of all merit, b^s the preference, merely because he has more money, and lives a more easy and delightful life. " But let us imagine to ourselves a country where so great a difference is not made between the several conditions ; where the life of a nobleman is not made to consist in idleness and doing nothing, but in a careful preservatiori of his liberty, that is, in a due subjection to the laws and the constitution ; hy a man's subsisting upon his estate without dependence on any one, and being contented to enjoy a little with liberty, rather than a great deal at the price of mean and base compliances : a country, where sloth, effeminacy, and the ignorance of things necessary for life, are held in just contempt, and where pleasure is less valued than health and bodily strength : in such a country, k wnll be much more for a man's reputation to plough, and keep flocks, than to waste all his hours in sauntering from place to place, in gaming, and expen- sive diversic ns." But we need not have recourse to Plato's commonwealth for instances of men who have led these useful lives. It was thus that the greatest part of mankind lived during near four thousand years ; and that not only the Israelites, but the Egyptians, the Greeks, and the Romans, that is to say , nations the most civilized, and most renowned for arms and wisdom. They all inculcate the regard which ought to be paid to agriculture and the breed- ing of cattle ; one of which, (without saying any thing of hemp and flax, so necessary for our clothing,) supplies us, by corn, fruits, and pulse, with not ' only a plentiful but a delicious nourishment ; and the other, besides its supply of exquisite meats to cover our tables, almost.alone gives life to manufactures and trade, by the skins and stuffs it furnishes. Princes are commonly desirous, and their interest certainly requires it, that the peasant, who, in a literal sense, sustains the heat and burden of the day, and pays so great a portion of the national taxes, should meet with favour and encouragement. But the kind and good intentions of princes are too often de- feated by the insatiable and merciless avarice of those who are appointed to collect their revenues. History has transmitted to us a fine saying of Tibe- rius on this head. A prefect of Egypt, having augmented the annual tribute of the province, and doubtless with the view of making his court to the em- peror, remitted to him a sum much larger than was customary ;* that prince, who in the beginning of his reign thought, or at least spoke justly, answered. That it was his design not to flay, hut to shear his sheep,] CHAPTER VI. OP THE PEIITSI.2TY OP E^YPT. Under this head I shall treat only of some plants peculiar to Egypt, andol the abundance of corn which it produced. Papyrus. This is a plant, from the root of which shoot out a great many triar^ular stalks, to the height of six or seven cubits,. The ancients wrote at ^ first upon palm leaves ; next, on the inside of the bark of trees, from whence the word liber, or book, is derived ; after that, upon tables covered over with ivax, on which the characters were impressed with an instrument called sty- lus, sharp-pointed atone end to write with, and flit at the other to efface what had been written ;J which gave occasion to the following expression of Horace : Safipe stylum verlas, itftrum quae dlgna leg^i sint Scripturus. Sat, lib. i. x ver. 72. Oft turn your style, if you desire to write Things that will bear a second reading. DM. I. Ivii. p. 608. t Kf. ?£o-0ai /lou ra nQ6^ara hW ouh fiwoK-PEcrfiai flooXou«i.— !• Mi' I Plin. 1. rvu c. n. or THE EGYPTIANS. | ^5 The meaning of which is, that a good performance is not to be expected without many erasures and corrections. At last the use of paper* was intro- duced, and this was made of the bark of papyrus, divided into thin Hakes or leaves, which were very proper for writing ; and this papyjus was likewise called byblus. Nondum flumineas Memphis contexerc byblos Noverat. Lucan. Memphu as yet knew not to form In leaves The wat'ry Byblus. Pliny calls it a w^onderful invention, so useful to life, that it preserves the memory of great actions, and immortalizes thoce who achieved them.j Varro ascribes this invention to Alexander the Great, when he built Alexandria ; but he had only the merit of making paper more common, for the invention was of much greater antiquity. The same Pliny adds, that Eumenes, king of Pergamus, substituted parchment instead of paper ; in emulation of Ptolemy, king of Egypt, whose library he was ambitious to excel by this invention, which had the advantage over paper. Parchment is the skin of a sheep, dressed and made fit to write upon. It was called Pergamenum from Perga- mus, whose kings had the honour of the invention. All the ancient manu- sccipts are either upon parchment or vellum, which is calf-skin, and a great deal finer than the common parchment. It is very curious to see white fine paper, wrought out of filthy rags picked up in the streets. The plant papy- rus was useful likewise for sails, tackling, clothes, coverlets, &c.J LmuxM. Flax is a plant w^hose bark, full of fibres or strings, is useful in making fine linen. The method of making this linen in Egypt was wonder- ful, and carried to such perfection, that the threads wliich w^ere drawn out of them, w^ere almost too small for the observation of the sharpest eye. Priests were alwa^^s habited in linen, and never in woollen ; and not only the priests, but all persons of distinction, generally wore linen clothes. This flax formed a considerable branch of the Egyptian trade, and great quantities of it wei-e exported into foreign countries. The manufacture of flax employed a great number of hands in Eg}^pt, especially of the women, as appears from that passage in Isaiah, in which the prophet menaces Egypt with a drought of so terrible a kind, that it should interrupt every kind of labour. Moreover, they that work in Jine Jiax^ and they that weave net-work, shall be confounded A We likewise find in Scripture, that one effect of the plague of hail, called down by Moses upon Egypt,|l was the destruction of all the flax which w as iien boiled. This storm was in March. Byssus. This was another kind of flax extremely fine and small, which often received a purple dye. IT It was veiy dear; and none but rich and wealthy persons could afford to w^ear it. Pliny, w^ho gives the first place to the iisbe«;toii or asbestinum, i, e, the incombustible flax, places the byssus in the next vank ; and says, that it served as an ornament to the ladies.** It appears from the Holy Scriptures, that it was chiefly from Egypt cloth made from this fine fax was brought. Fine linen with hroidered work from Egypt,]] I ts:ke no notice of the lotus or lote-tree, a common plant, and in great re- quest with the Egyptians, of whose berries, in former times, they made bread There was another lotus in Africa, which gave its name to the eotophagi ci' * The papyrus was divided into thin flakes, into which it naturally parted, which beins: laid on a tabl^ "Sind moistened with the glutlncus waters of the Nile, were afterwards pressed together, and dried in th« sun. t Postea promiscud patiiit usus rel, qua constat immortalitas hominum — Chartas usu maximS humanitaf constat in memoria. J Plin. 1. xix c. 1. 5 Isa. xix. 9. || Exod. ix. 31. ^ Plin. 1. xix. c. 1. ** Proximus byssino mulieriim maxlme deliciis g-enito : inventum Jam est eliam (scilicet Irimim) quod itlfnibus non absumetur; vivuni id vocant, ardentesque in focis conviviorum ex eo vidimus mnppas, sordibus exustis splendescentes ig'ni maj^is qnani possent aqvils. — ?. e. A flax is now found out, which is proof agairjit the riolence of fire ; it is called livins^ flax, and we have seen table-napkins of it glowing' in the fires ef om JiniAc »m8 anJ 'ng a lustre and a cleanness frorr^ flames, which no water could have riTes it. tt Ezck. IV."*. 7. 126 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS lotus-eaters because they lived upon the fruit of this tree, which had so deli= clous a taste, if Honier may be credited, that it made the eaters of it forj^et all the sweets of their native country,* as Ulysses found to his cost on his re- turn from Troy. In general, it may be said, that the Egyptian pulse and fruits were excel- lent ; and might, as Pliny observes, have sufficed singly for the nourishment of the inhabitants, such was their excellent quality, and so great their plenty.t And, indeed, working men lived then almost upon nothing else, as appears from those who were employed in building the pyramids. Besides these rural riches, the Nile, from its fish, and the fatness it gave to the soil for the feeding of cattle, furnished the tables of the Egyptians with the most exquisite fish of every kind, and the most succulent flesh. This it wa* which made the Israelites so deeply regret the loss of Egypt, when they found themselves in the wilderness : Who. say they, in a plaintive, and at the same time seditious tone, shall give us Jiesh to eat? We remember the flesh which tsl-c did eat in Egypt freely, the cucumbers and melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the garlic.^ We sat by the Jiesh potSy and we did eat bread to the fulL^ But the great and matchless wealth of Egypt arose from its corn, which, even in an almost universal famine, enabled it to support all the neighbouring nations, as it particularly did under Joseph's administration. In later ages it was the resource and most certain granary of Rome and Constantinople. It is a well-known^story, how a calumny raised against St. Athanasius, viz, of his having menaced Constantinople, that for the future no more corn should be imported to it from Alexandria, incensed the emperor Constantine against that holy bishop, because he knew that his capital city could not subsist without the corn which was brought to it from Egypt. The same reason induced all the emperors of Rome to take so great a care of Egypt, which they consider- ed as the nursing mother of the world's metropolis. Nevertheless, the same river which enabled this province to subsist the two most populous cities in the world, sometimes reduced even E^pt itself to ihe most terrible famine ; and it is astonishing that Joseph's wise foresight, wh^ ;h, in fruitful years, had made provision for seasons of sterility,' should not h ive taught these sc much boasted politicians, a like care against the changes and inconstancy of the Nile. Pliny, in his panegyric upon Trajan, paints, V'ith wonderful strength, the extremity to which that country was reduced by a famine, under that prince's reign, and his generous relief of it. The reader will not be displeased to read here an extract of it, in which a greater re- gard will be had to Pliny's thoughts, than to his expressions. The Egyptians, says Pliny, who gloried that they needed neither rain nor sun to produce their corn, and who believed they might confidently co«iitest the prize of plenty with the most fruitful countries of the world, were con- demned to unexpected drought and a fatal sterility ; from the greatest pa rt of their territories being deserted and left unwatered by the Nile, whose inunda- tion is the source and sure standard of their abundance. They then implored im\. assistance from their prince, which they used to expect only from t\ieir nver.ll The delay of their relief was no longer than that which employed a courier to bring the melancholy news to Rome ; and one would have imagined, that this misfortune had befallen them only to distinguish with greater lustr< the generosity and goodness of Caesar. It was an ancient and general opinion * Tu)v 5' ocTTis \coToro (^h.'ydx )i£\iTi(5{a xa$>rrov, Ouk *t' cLTras/jETKai ircikiv -hOeXev, cu5f Vi£(j9ai. Odvss. ix. ver. 94, 95 Mn TTco TtJ \coToro fpaywv, vocttoio XaO-nTaj. ' ver. 102 I JK^ypiVb frvgum quidem fertilissima, sed ut prope sola ils carere possit, tanta est ciborum ei bei^ ftHa««H&iiUa. —Plin. 1. xxi. c. 13. + IS umb. xi. 4, b. J Kiod. xvi. j?. ]} luttitdatiorie id est, ub€ tate regio fruuJata, sic opein Caisariii Invoc: v it, ut lolet amnem tu«»> OP THE EGYPTIANS. \2y that our city could not subsist without provisions drawn from Egypt.* This vain and proud nation boasted, that though it vyas conquered, it nevertheless fed its conquerors ; that, by means of its river, either abundance or scarcity were en* tirely at its disposal. But we have now returned to the Nile his own harvests, and given him back the provisions he sent us. Let the Egyptians be then con- vinced by their own experience, that they are not necessary to us, and are only our vassals. Let them know that their ships do not so much bring us the provision we stand in need of, as the tribute which they owe us. And let them never forget, that we can do without them, but that they can never do without us. This most fruitful province had been ruined, had it not worn iht Roman chains. The Egyptians, in their sovereign, found a deliverer, and a father. Astonished at the sight of their granaries, filled without any labour of their own, they were at a loss to know to whom they owed this foreign and gratuitous plenty. The famine of a people, though at such a distance from us, yet so speedily stopped, served only to let them feel the advantage of liv- ing under our empire. The Nile may, in other times, have diffused mor - plenty on Egypt, but never more glory upon us.t May Heaven, content with this proof of the people's patience, and the prince's generosity, restore for evor back to Egypt its ancient fertility ! Pliny's reproach to the Egyptians, for their vain and foolish pride, with re - gard to the inundations of the Nile, points out one of their most peculiar cha - racteristics, and recals to my mind a fine passage of Ezekiel, where God th<;.s speaks to Pharaoh, one of their kings ; Behold, I am against thee, Pharaoh kin^ of Egypt, the great dragon that lieth in the midst of his rivers, which haiK mid. My river is my own, and I have made it for myself % God perceived an insupportable pride in the heart of ^his prince, a sense of security and confi- dence in the inundations of the Nile, independent entirely of the influences of Heaven ; as though the happy effects of this inundation had been owing J[o nothing but his own care and labour, or those of his predecessors : the river is mine, and I have made it. Before I conclude this second part, which treats of the manners of the Egyp- tians, I think it incumbent on me to direct the attention of my readers to different passages scattered in the history of Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, and Moses, which confirm and illustrate part of what we meet with in profane au- thors upon this subject. They will there observe the perfect polity which reip-ned in Egypt, both in the court and the rest of the kingdom ; the vigilance of the prince, who was informed of all transactions, had a regular council^a chosen number of ministers, armies ever well maintained and disciplined, atid of every order of soldiery, horse, foot, armed chariots; intendants in all the provinces ; overseers or guardians of the public granaries ; wise and exact dispensers of the corn lodged in them ; a court composed of great officers of the crown, a captain of his guards, a chief cup-bearer, a master of his pantry, in a word, all things that compose a pence's household, and constitute a mag- nificent court. But above all these, the readers will admire the fear in which the threatenings of God were held, the inspector of all actions, and the judge of kings themselves ; and the horror the Egyptians had for adultery, which was ack lowledged to be a crime of so heinous a nature, that it alone was capable of b ringing destruction on a nation. § * Pen-rebuorat antlqnilas urbem nostram nisi opibus jEg-ypti ali sustentanque non posse. Supcrbai rentosa et insolens natio, quod victorcm quidem populum pasceret tamen, quodqne in suo flumine, in suit manibus, vel abundantia nostra rel fames esset. Refudimus Nilo suas copia*. Recepit frumenta qua ierat, deportatasq-ue meises revexit. t Nilus ^gypto quidem sicpe, Bed srlorios nostrae nunquam largior flui't- t Ezek. xxix. S, 9. ^ I Gen. xii. 10—20. lis HIBTORY OF THE PART THIRD. THE HISTORY OF THE KINGS OF EGYPT No part of ancient history is more obscure or uncertain than ihi t of the firsj kings of Egypt. This proud nation, fondly conceited of its antiquity and no. bility, thought it glorious to lose itself in an abyss of infinite ages, as though it seemed to cariy its pretensions backward to eternity. According to its owti liistorians, first gods, and afterwards demi-gods or heroes, governed it suc- cessively, through a series of more than twenty thousand years.* But the al> surdity of this vain and fabulous claim is easily discovered. To gods and demi-gods, men succeeded as rulers or kings in Egypt, of whom Manetho has left us thirty dynasties or principalities. This Sfanetho was an Egyptian high-priest, and keeper of the sacred archives of Egypt, and had been instructed in the Grecian learning : he wrote a history oi Egypt, which he pretended to have extracted from the writings of Mercurius, and other ancient memoirs preserved in the archives of the Egyptian temples. He drew up this history under the reign, and at the command of Ptolemy Phila- delphus. If his thirty dynasties are allowed to be successive, they make up a series of time, of more than five thousand three hundred years, to the reign of Alexander the Great; but this is a manifest forgery. Besides, we find In Eratosthenes,t who was invited to Alexandria by Ptolemy Euergetes^ a cata- lc)G,ue of thirty-eight kings of Thebes, all different from those of Manetho. TIjc clearing up of these difficulties has put the learned to a great deal of trouble and labour. The most effectual way to reconcile such contradictions, is to suppose, with almost all the modern writers upon this subject, that the kings of these different dynasties did not reign successively after one another but many of them at the same time, and in different countries of Egypt. There weie in Egypt four principal dynasties, that of Thebes, of Thin, of Memphis, and of Tanis. I shall not here give my readers a list of the kings who have reigned in Egypt, most of whom are only known to us by their names. I shall only take notice of what seems to me most proper to give youth the necessary light into this part of histoiy, for whose sake principally I engaged in this un- dertaking ; and I shall confine myself chiefly to the memoirs left us by Hero- dotus amd Diodorus Siculus concerning the Egyptian kings, without even scru- pulously preserving the exactness of succession, at least in the beginnings, which are very obscure ; and without pretending to reconcile these two histo- rians. Their design, especially that of Herodotus, was not to lay before us an exact series of the kings of Egypt, but only to point out those princes, whose history appeared to them most important and instructive. I shall follow the same plan, and hope to be forgiven, for not having involved either mj^self or iny readers, in a labyrinth of almost inextricable difficulties, from which the most able canscarcely disengage themselves, when they pretend to follow the series of history, and reduce it to fixed and certain dates. The curious may r.onsult the learned works, in which this subject is treated in all its extent.^ I am to premise, that Plerodotus, upon the credit of the Egyptian priests ^\hom he had t^onsulted, gives us a great number of oracles, and singular inci- dents, all which, though he relates them as so many facts, the judicious reader will easily discover to be what they really are, I mean fictions. The ancient history of Egypt comprehends 2158 year5, and is naturally divided into three periods. The first begins with the establishment of the Egyptian monarchy, by Me- nes or Misra'im, the son of Cham,§ in the year of^the world 1816 ; ana ends * Diod. 1. i. p. 41. t A historian of Cyrene. X Hir Jobs Marsham's Canon. Chsnnir. Father Pnzron ; the ^dissertations of F. Tournemin«, Abb4 Se- na feo i OrHara. / KINGS OF EGYPT | ffith the destruction of that monarchy by Cambyses, king of Persia, in the year of the world 3479. This first period contains 1663 years. The second period is intermixed with the Persian and Grecian history, and extends to the death of Alexander the Great, which happened in the year 3681, and consequently includes 202 years. The third period is that in which a new monarchy was formed in Egypt by the Lagidse, or Ptolemies, descendants from Lagus, to the death of Cleopatra the last queen of Egypt, in 3974 ; and this last comprehends 293 years. I shall now treat only of the first period, reserving the two others for the erae made fke requisite preparations, levied forces, and headed them with officers of the greatest bravery and reputation, and these were taken chiefly from among the j^ouths who had been educated with him He had seventeen hundred of these officers, who were all capable of inspiring his troops with resolution, a love of discipline, and a zeal lor the service of their prince. His army consisted of six hundred thousand foot, and twenty- four thousand horse, besides twenty-seven thousand armed chariots. He began his expedition by invading Ethiopia, situated to the south of Egypt. He made it tributary, and obliged the nations of it to furnish him annually with a certain quantity of ebony, ivory, and gold. He had fitted out a fleet of four hundred sail, and ordering it to sail to the Red Sea, made himself master of the isles and cities tying on the coasts of that sea. He himself heading his land-army, over-ran and subdued Asia with amazing rapidity, and advanced farther into India than Hercules, Bacchus, and, in after times, Alexander himself had ever done ; for he subdued the countries beyond the Ganges, and advanced as far as the Ocean. One may I'udge from hence, how unable the more neighbouring countries were to resist him. The Scythians, as far as the river Tanais, Armenia, and Cappadocia, were conquered. He left a colony in the ancient kingdom of Colchos, situa- ted to the east of the Black Sea, where the Egyptian customs and nianners have been ever since retained. Herodotus saw in Asia Minor, from one sea to the other, monuments of his victories. In several countries was read the following inscription, engraven on pillars : Sesostris, king of kings, and lord of lords ^ subdued this country by the power of his arms. Such pillars are found even in Thrace, and his empire extended from the Ganges to the Danube. In his expeditions, some nations bravely defended their liberties, and others yielded them up without making the least resistance. This disparity was denoted by him in hieroglyphical figures, on the monuments erected to per- petuate the remembrance of his victories, agreeably to the Egyptian practice- The^carcity of provisions in Thrace stopped the progress of his conquests and prevented his advancing farther in Europe. One remarkable circum stance is observed in this conqueror, who never once thought, as others had done, of preserving his acquisitions ; but contenting himself with the gloiy ol • A. ?5)». Airt. J. r. 1491. KINGS OF EGYPT. 133 having subdued and despoiled so many nations, after having spread desola- tion through the world for nine years, he confined himseii almost withir tJie ancient limits of Egypt, a few neighbouring provinces excepted ; for wt do not find any traces or footsteps of this new empire, either under himself or his successors. He returned, therefore, laden with the spoils of the vanquished nations ; dragging after him a numberless multitude of captives, and covered with greater glory than his predecessors ; that glory, 1 mean, which employs many tongues and pens in its praise, which consists in invading a great num* ber of provinces in a hostile way, and is often productive of numberless ca- lamities. He rewarded his officers and soldiers with a truly royal magnifi- cence, in proportion to their rank and merit. He made it both his pleasure ind duty, to put the companions of his victory in such a condition as n.ighl enal^le them^ to enjoy, during the remainder of their days, a calm and easy repose, the just reward of their past toils. With regard to himself, for ever careful of his own reputation, and still more of making his power advantageous to his subjects, he employed the repose which peace allowed him, in raising works that might contribute more to the enriching of Egypt, than the immortalizing of his name ; works in which the art and industry of the workmen were more admired, than the immense sums which had been expended on them. A hundred famous temples, raised as so many monuments of gratitude tc the tutelar gods of all the cities, were the first, as well as the most illustrious testimonies of his victories ; and he took care to publish in the inscriptions on them, that these mighty works had been completed without burdening any of his subjects. He made it his glory to be tender of them, and to employ only captives in these monuments of his conquests. The Scriptures take no- tice of something like this, where thev* speak of fne buildings of Solomon.* But he was especially studious of adorning and enrichirg the temple of Vul- can at Pelusium, in acknowledgm.ent of that god's imaginary protection of him, when, on his return from his expeditions, his brother had a design of de- stroying him in that city, with his wife and children, by setting fire to the apartment where he then lay. His great work was, the raising, in every part of Egypt, a considerable number of high banks or moles, on which new cities weie built, in order that these might be a security for men and beasts, during the inundations of the Nile. From Memphis, as far as the sea, he cut, on both sides of the river, a great number of canals, for the conveniency of trade, and the conveying of provi- sions, for the settling an easy correspondence between such cities as were most distant from one another. Besides the advantages of traffic, Egypt was, by these canals, made inaccessible to the cavalry of its enemies, which before had so often harassed it by repeated incursions. He did still more : to secure Egypt from the inroads of its nearer neigh- bours, the Syrians and Arabians, he fortified all the eastern coast from Pelu- sium to Heliopolis, that is, for upwards of seven leagues.! Sesostris might have been considered as one of the most illustrious and most boasted heroes of antiquity had not the lustre of his warlike actions, as well as his pacific virtues, been tarnished by a thirst of glory, and a blind fondness for his own grandeur, which made him forget that he was a man. The kings and chiefs of the conquered nations came, at stated times, to do homage to their victor, and pay him the appointed tribute. On every other occasion, he treated them with some humanity and generosity. But when he went to the temple, or entered his capital, he caused these princes, four abreast, to be harnessed to his car, instead of horses ; and valued himself upon his being thus drawn by the lords and sovereigns of other nations. What I am most sur- • 2 Chrott. viii. 9 "But of tbe chilclren of Israel did Solomon mal:e no servants for his work.'* t 150 stadia, ahout 18 railes English. 134 HISTORY OF TnE prised at is, (hat Diodorus should rank this foolish and inhur.aan vanity amon| the most shining actions of this prince. Becoming blind in his old age, he despatched himself, after having reigned thirty-three years, and left his kingdom immensely rich.* His empire never- theless did not reach beyond the fourth generation. But there still remained, ?o jateas the reign of Tiberius, magnificent monuments, which showed the extent of Egypt under Sesostris,! and the immense tributes which were paid to it.J I now return to some facts which should have been mentioned before, 'as they occurred in this period, but were omitted, in order that I might not break the thread of the history, and therefore will now barely mention them. About the era in question, the Egyptians settled themselves in divers parts the earth. The colony which Cecrops led out of Egypt, built twelve cities^ or rather so many towns, of which he composed the kingdom of Athens. § We observed, that the brother of Sesostris, called by the Greeks Da'naus, had formed a design to murder him on his return to Egypt after his conquests. But being defeated in his horrid project, he was obliged to fly.ll He there- upon retired to Peloponnesus, where he seized upon the k ingdom of Argos, which had been founded about four hundred years before by Inachus. BusiRis, brother of Amenophis, so infamous among the ancients for his cru- elties, exercised his tyranny at diat time on the banks of the Nile, and barba- rously cut the throats of all foreigners who landed in his country : this wa* probably during the absence of Sesostris.^ About the same t'me Cadmus brought from Syria, into Greece, the inven- tion of letters."^* Some pretend, that these characters, or letters, were Egyp- tian, and that Cadmus himself was a native of Egypt, and not of Phcenicia ; and the Egyptians, who ascribe to themselves the invention of every art, and boast a greater antiquity than any other nation, asciibed to their Mercury the honour of inventing letters. Most of*- the learned agree, that Cadmus carried the Phoenician, or Syrian letters into Greece, and that those letters were the same as the Hebraic ; the Hebrews who formed but a small nation, being comprehended under the general name of Syrians. tt Joseph Scaliger, in his notes on the Chronicon of Eusebius, proves that the Greek letterS3 and those of the Latin alphabet formed from them, derive theiroriginal frcm the ancient Phoenician letters, which are the same with the Samaritan, anc^ were used by the Jews before the Babylonish captivity. Cadmus carried on^ sixteen let- ters into'Greece, eight others being added afterwards.JJ I return to the history of the Egyptian kings, whom 1 shall hereafter rank in the same order with Herodotus. Pheron succeeded Sesostris in his kingdom, but not in his glory. §§ Hero- dotus relates but one action of his, which shows how greatly he had degene- rated from the religious sentiments of his father.il || In an extraordinary inun- dation of the Nile, which exceeded eighteen cubits, this prince, e^-jraged at the devastation which was made by it, threw a javelin at the river, as if he intended thereby to chastise its insolence ; but was himself immediately pun- ished for his impiety, if the historian may be credited, with the loss oi sight. Proteus. ITU He was the son of Memphis, where, in Herodotus' time, hia temple was still standing, in which was a chapel dedicated to Venus the Stran- * Tacit. Ann. 1. ii. c. 60. j Tacit. Ann. 1. ii. { Legebantur indicta gentibus tributa — baud minus magnifica quam nunc vi Parthorum aut potentla Ro- ■Mna jubentur. Inscribed on pillars, were read the tributes imposed on ranquished nations, which were not inferior to those now paid to the Parthian and Roman powers. j A. M. 2448. II A. M. 2530. IF A. M. 2533. ** A. M. 2549. fl The reader may consult on this subject tw© learned dissertations of Abbd Renaudot. inserted in the •econd volume of Tne History of the Academy of Inscriptions. XX The sixteen letters, brought by Cadmus into Greece, are, a, 7, 5i f, i» x, A» IL, v, o» ir, (Ti T. «b PoJamedss, at the siege ©f Troy, t. e. upwards of two hundred and fifty years lower than Cadmus, added th« f»«tr folio wioff, r< 6, Z)i Xi Simonides, a long time after, invented the four others, namely, Dt (>)• >|r (2 A. M. 2547. Ant. J. C. 1457. |||| Herod 1. ii. c. 111. Diod. 1. i. p. 54. TIT A. M 2800 Ant. J C. 1204 Herod. 1. ii. c. 112. 120. Ku-^aS OF EGYPT. 135 •xer.* It is conject jred tViat this Venus was Helen. For, hi the reign of thia a.oririrch, Paris the Trojan, returning home with Helen, whom he had stolen, was driven by a storm into one of the mouths of the Nile, called the Canopic; and from thence was conducted to Proteus at Memphis, who reproached him in the strongest terms for his base perfidy and guilt, in stealing the wife of his host, and with her all the effects in his house. He added, that the only rea- •on why he did not punish him with death (as his crime deserved) was, be- cause the Egyptians were careful not to imbrue their hands in the blood of strangers : that he would keep Helen, with all the riches that were brought with her, in order to restore them to their lawful owner: that as for himself (Paris,) he must either quit his dominions in three days, or expect to be treated as an enemy. The king's order was obeyed. Paris continued his voyage, and arrived at Troy, whither he was closely pursued by the Grecian fermj. The Greeks summoned the Trojans to surrender Helen, and with her all the treasures of which her husband had been plundered. The Trojans an- swered, that neither Helen nor her treasures were in their city. And indeed, ivas it at all likely, says Herodotus, that Priam, who was so wise an old prince, should choose to see his children and country destroyed before his eyes, rather than give the Greeks the just and reasonable satisfaction they desired? But it was to no purpose for them to affirm with an oath, that Helen was not in their city ; the Greeks, being firmly persuaded that they were trifled with, persist- ed obstinately in their unbelief. The Deity, continues the same historian, being resolved that the Trojans, by the total destruction of their city and em- pire, should teach the affrighted world this lesson. That great crimes are ATTENDED WITH EQUALLY GREAT AND SIGNAL PUNISHMENTS FROM THE OF- FENDED GODS.t Menelaus, in his return from Troy, called at the court of king Proteus, who restored him Helen with all her treasure. Herodotus proves from some passages in Homer, that the voyage of Paris to Egypt was not uii- knov/n to this poet. Rhampsinitus. The treasury built by this king, who was richer than any of his predecessors, and his descent into hell, as they are related by Herodo- tus,I have so much tne air of romance and fiction, that they deserve no men- tion here. Till the reign of this king, there had been some shadow at least of justice and moderation in Egypt ; but, in the two following reigns, violence and cru- elty usurped their place. Cheops and Cephrenus.§ These two princes, who were truly brothers by the similitude of their manners, seem to have strove which of them should dis- tinguish himself most, by a barefaced impiety towards the gods, and a barba- rous inhumanity to men. Cheops reigned fifty years, and his brother Cephrenus fifty-six years after him. They kept the temples shut during the whole time of their long reigns ; and forbid the offerings of sacrifice under the severest penalties. On the other hand, they oppressed their subjects, by employing them in the most grievous and useless works ; and sacrificed the lives of num- berless multitudes of men, merely to gratify a senseless ambition, of immor- talizing their names by edifices of an enormous magnitude and a boundless * I do not think myselr obliged to enter here into a discussion, which would be attended with very per- plexing difficulties, should I pretend to reconcile the series, or succession of the kings, as given by Hero- dotu«, with the opinion of archbishop Usher. This last supposes, with a great many other learned mea, that Sssostris is the son of that Egyptian king who was drowned in the Red Sea, whose reign must conse- quently have begun in the year of the world 2513, and continued till the year 2547» since it lasted thirty three years. Should we allow fifty years to the reign of Pheron his son, there would still be an interval of above two hundred years between Pheron and Proteus, who, according to Herodotus, succeeded imme diately the first : since Proteus lived at the time of the siege of Troy, which, according to Usher, was taken A«. Mun. 5820. I know not whether his almost total silence on the Egyptian kings after Sesoitrii, WM owing to his sense of this difficulty. I suppose a long interval to have occured between Pheron and PfO' fedi; acccrJingly Diodorus (lib. liv.) fills it up with a great many kings: and the same must be said U •omc of the following kings. J o ^ t 'Cii Tu)v ji£7cLA.a3v d5»XT)/iaLTC0v \Ltya,\a\ cfcrl xal a' ri^iwp.'aj trapi tiLt ^efiv. X l*ib. ii. a. 121, 123 \ Herod. 1. ii. c. 124. 128. Diod. 1. i. p 67- 136 HISTORY OF THE expense. It is remarkable, that those stately pyramids, which have so ions been the admiration of the whole world, were the effect) of the irrengion ana merciless crueHy of those princes. Mycerinus.* He was the son of Cheops, but of a character opposite tc that of his father. So far from walking in his steps, he detested his conduct, and pursued quite different measures. He again opened the temples of the gods, restored the sacrifices, did all that lay in his power to comfort his subjects, and make them forget their past miseries ; and believed himself set over them for no other purpose than to exercise justice, and to make them taste all the blessings of an equitable and peaceful administration. He heard their com- " plair.':3, dried their tears, eased their misery, and thought himself not so much the master, as the father of his people. This procured him the love of them all. Egypt resounded with his praises, and his name commanded veneration in al! places. One would naturally conclude, that so prudent and humane a conduct must have drawn down on Mycerinus the protection of the gods. But it happened far otherwise. His misfortunes began from the death of a darling and only daugh- ter, in whom his whole felicity consisted. He ordered extraordinary honours to be paid to her memory, which were still continued in Herodotus's time. This historian informs us, that in the city of Sais, exquisite odours were burnt, in the day-time, at the tomb of this princess, and that it was illuminated with a lamp by night. He was told by an oracle, that his reign would continue but seven years. And as he complained of this to the gods, and inquired the reason why so long and prosperous a reign had been granted to his father and uncle, who were equally cruel and impious, while his own, which he had endeavoured so carefully to render as equitable and mild as it was possible for him to do, should be so short and unhappy ; he was answered, that these were the very causes of it, it being the will of^the gods to oppress and afflict Egypt, during the space of 150 years, as a punishment for its crimes ; and that his reign, which was appoint- ed, like those of the preceding monarchs, to be of fifty years continuance, was shortened on account of his too great lenity. Mycerinus likewise built a pyra- mid, but much inferior in dimensions to that of his father. AsYCHis.j He enacted the law relating to loans, which forbids a son to borrow money, without giving the dead body of his father by way of security for it. The law added, that in case the son took no care to redeem his father ? body by restoring the loan, both himself and his children should be deprived for ever of the rights of sepulture. He valued himself for having surpassed all his predecessors, by building s pyramid of brick, more magnificent, if this king was to be credited, than any Iiitherto seen. The following inscription by its founder's order, was engraved upon it : Compare me not with pyramids built of stone, which I as MUCH EXCEL AS JuPITER DOES ALL THE OTHER GODS.J If we suppose the six preceding reigns (the exact duration of some of which m not fixed by Herodotus) to have continued one hundred and seventy years, there will remain an interval of near three liundred years to the reign of Sa • bachus the Ethiopian. In this interval I shall place a few circumstances re lated in Holy Scripture. Pharaoh, king of Egypt, gave his daughter in marriage to Solomon, kinr of Israel ; who received her in that part of Jerusalem called the ,city of Davil till he had built her a palace.§ Sesach, or Shishak, otherwise called Sesonchis. It was to him that Jeroboam fled, to avoid the wrath of Solomon, who ii> * Herod. L ii. p. 139, 140. f Herod. 1. ii. c. 136. ^ The remainder of the inscription, as we find it in Herodotus, is, " For men, plunging long- polei dowt to tlie botteti of the lake, drew bricks {rrKlv^ous t'Qvaav) out of the mud whicb stuck to them, and gaTt M«thiifom.V' I A. M. 9091. Ant J. C. 1013. 1 Kinp. Ul 1. KINGS OF EGYPT. 137 tended to kill him.* He abode in Egypt till Solomon's death, and then return- ed to Jerusalem, when putting himselfat the head of the rebels, he won from Rehoboam the son of Solomon, ten tribes, over whom he declared himself king. This Sesach, in the fifth year of the reign of Rehoboam, marched against Jerusalem, because the Jews had transgressed against the Lord. He came with twelve hundred chariots of war and sixty thousand horse.j He had brought numberless multitudes of people, who were all Libyans, Troglodytes, and Ethiopians. J He seized upon all the strongest cities of Judah, and ad- vanced as far as Jerusalem. Then the king and the princes of Israel, having humbled themselves, and implored the protection of the God of Israel, he told them, by his prophet Shemaiah, that, because they humbled themselves, he would not utterly destroy them, as they had deserved ; but that they should be the servants of Sesach ; in order that they might know the difference of his service, and the service of the kingdoms of the country.^ Sesach retired from Jerusalem, after having plundered the treasures of the house of the Lord, and of the king's house ; he carried off every thing with him, a7id even also the three h undred shields of gold which Solomon had made. Zerah, king of Ethiopia, and doubtless of Egypt at the same time, made war upon Asa king of Judah. |1 His army consisted of a million of men, and three hundred chariots of war. Asa marched against him, and drawing up his army in order of battle, in full reliance on the God whom he served, " Lord, says he, " it is nothing for thee to help, whether with many, or with them that have no power. Help us, O Lord our God, for we rest on thee, and in thy name we go against this multitude ; O Lord thou art our God, let not man prevail against thee." A prayer offered up with such strong faith was heard. God struck the Ethiopians with terror ; they fled, and all were irre« coverably defeated, being destroyed before the Lord, and before his host, Anysis.^ He was blind, and under his reign Sabachus, king of Ethiopia, being encouraged by an oracle, entered Egypt with a numerous army, and possessed himself of it. He reigned with great clemency and justice. Instead of putting to death such criminals as had been sentenced to die by the judges, he made them repair the cause3^s, on which the respective cities to which they belonged were situated. He built several magnificent temples, and among the rest, one in the city of Bubastus, of which Herodotus gives a long and elegant description. After a reign of fifty years, which was the time appointed by the oracle, he retired voluntarily to his old kingdom of Ethiopia, and left the throne of Egypt to Anysis, who during this time had concealed himLelf in the fens. It is believed that this Sabachus was the same with So, whose aid was implored by Hosea king of Israel, against Salmanaser king of Assyria.** Sethon. He reigned fourteen years. He is the same with Sevechus, the son of Sabacon or Sual the Ethiopian, who reigned so long over Egypt. tt This prince, so far from discharging the functions of a king, was ambitious of those of a priest ; causing himself to be consecrated high-priest of Vulcan. Abandoning himself entirely to supersti- tion, he neglected to defend his kingdom by force of arms ; paying no regard to military men, from a firm persuasion that he should never have occasion for their assistance ; he therefore was so far from endeavouring to gain their affections, that he deprived them of their privileges, and even dispossessed tliem of such lands as his predecessors had given them. He was soon made sensible of their resentment in a war that broke out sud- denly, and frf Ji which he delivered himself solely by a miraculous protection, ♦ A. M. 30-26. Ant. J. C. 978. 1 Kins:, sxl. 40. and chap. xii. t A. M. 3033. Ant. .1. C. 971. 2 Chron. xll. 1—9. i The Koglish version of the Bible says, the Lubims, the Sakkims, and the Ethiopians. ^ Or, of the kins^doins of the enrth. < A. M. Ant. J C. 741. 2 Chron. xiv. 9—13- IT Herod. 1. ii. c. 157. Died. 1. p. S% A. M. 3i7S Ant. J. C. 725. 2 Klog^. x*u. 4 tt A. M. 22C5. Ant. .J. C. 719 .38 HISTORY OF THE if Herodot'js mav be credited, who intermixes his account of this war with a freat many fabulous particulars. Sennacherib, (so Herodotus calls this prince,) ing of the Arabians and Assyrians, having entered Egypt with a numerous army, the Egyptian officers and soldiers refused to march against him. The high-priest of Vulcan, being thus reduced to the greatest extremity, had re- course to his god, who bid him not despond, but march courageously agains* the enemy with the few soldiers he could raise. Sethon obeyed A small number of merchants, artificers, and others, who were the dregs of the popu- lace, joined him ; and with this handful of men he marched to Pelnsiumj where Sennacherib had pitched his camp. The night following a prodigious number of rats entered the enemy's camp, and gnawing to pieces all their bow-strings and the thongs of their shields, rendered them incapable of making the least defence. Being disarmed in thii-' manner, they were obliged to fly ; and they retreated with the loss of a great part of their forces. Sethon, when he returned home, ordered a statue of himself to be set up in the temple of Vulcan, holding in his right hand a rat, and these words inscribed thereon : Let the man w^ho beholds me learn to reverence the gods.* It is very obvious that this story, as related here from Herodotus, is an alter- ation of that w^hich is told in the second book of Kings.j We there see, that Sennacherib, king of the Assyrians, having subdued all the neighbouring na- tions, and seized upon all the cities of Judah, resolved to besiege Hezekiah in Jerusalem, his capital city. The ministers of this holy king, in spite of this opposition and the remonstrances of the prophet Isaiah, who promised them, in God's name, a sure and certain protection, provided they would trust in him only, sent secretly to the Egyptians and Ethiopians for succour. Their armies, being united, marched to the relief of Jerusalem at the time appoint- ed, and were met and vanquished by the Assyrians in a pitched battle. He pursued them into Egypt, and entirely laid waste the country. At his return from thence, the veiy night before he was to have given a general assault to Jerusalem, which then seemed lost to all hopes, the destroying angel made dreadful havoc in the camp of the Assyrians, destroyed a hundred fourscore and f thousand men by fire and sword, and proved evidently, that they had great reasoii to rely, as Hezekiah had done, on the promise of the God of Israel. This is the real fact. But as it was no ways honourable to the Egyptians, they endeavoured to turn it to their own advantage, by disguising and corrupt- ing the circumstances of it. Nevertheless, the account of this history, though so much defaced, ought yet to be highly valued, as coming from a historian of so great antiquity and authority as Herodotus. The prophet Isaiah had foretold, at several times, that this expedition of the Egyptians, v/hich had been concerted seemingly with much prudence, con- ducted with the greatest skill, and in which the forces of two powerful empires were united, in order to relieve the Jews, would not only be of no service to Jerusalem, but even destructive to Egypt itself, whose strongest cities would be taken, its territories plundered, and its inhabitants of all ages and sexes led into cai)tivity. See the 18th, 19th, 20th, 30th, 31st, &c. chapters of the second book of^ Kings. Archbishop Usher and dean Prideaux suppose that it was at this period that the ruin of the famous city No-Amon,J spoken of by the pro- phet Nahum, happened. That proj)het says, that she was carried away — that her young children were dashed in pieces at the top of all the streets — that the enemy cast lots for her honourable men, and that all her great men were hr^und in chains,^ He observes, that all these misfortunes befel that city, when * *E$ ijil Til of ITDV, COCTE^riJ "(TTW. . j Chap. Xvii. X The Vulgate calls that city Alexandria, to which the Hebrew gives the namf of No-Ainon ; because Alexandria was afterwards built in the place were this stood. Dean Prideaux, after Bochart, thinks thai it was Thebes, sumamed Diospolis. Indeed, the Ej^tian Amon is the same Avlth Jupiter. But Thebst a not the place where AlexaDdria ^ai since built. Perhaps Jhere was another city there, t^nich alw war '•alla4 > Hiaoo ( Cbap. m. 8, la KINGS OF EGrrr. 139 Egypt and Ethiopia were her strength ; which seems to refer clearly ekiough to the time of which we are here speaking, when Tharaca and Sethon had (mited ttieir forces. However, this opinion is not without some diiBculties, and rs contradicted by some learned men. It is sufficient for me to have hinted it to the reader. Till the reign of Sethon, the Egyptian priests computed three hundred and forty-one generations of men ; which make eleven thousand three hun- dred and forty years, allowing three generations to a hundred years.* They counted the like number of priests and kings. The latter, whether gods or men, had succeeded one another without interruption, under the name of pi* romis, an Egyptian word signifying good and virtuous. The Egyptian priests showed Herodotus three hundred and forty-one wooden colossal statues of these piromis, all ranged in order in a great hall. Such was the folly of the Egyptians, to lose themselves, as it were, in a remote antiquity, to which no other people pretended. Tharaca. t He it was who joined Sethon, with an Ethiopian army, to re- lieve Jerusalem. After the death of Sethon, who had sat fourteen years on the Ihi'one, Tharaca ascended it, and reigned eighteen years. He was the last Flthiopian king who reigned in Egypt. After his death, the Egyptians, not being able to agree about the succession, were two years in a state of anarchy, during which there were great disorders ;ind confusions among them. TWELVE KINGS. At last, twelve of the principal noblemen, conspiring together, seized upon his kingdom, and divided it among themselves into so many parts.J It was agreed by them, that each should govern his own district with equal power and authority, and that no one should attempt to invade or seize the dominions of aiiother. They thought it necessary to make this agreement, and to bind it with the most dreadful oaths, to elude the prediction of an oracle, which had foretold, that he among them w^ho should offer his libation to Vulcan out of a brazen bowl, should gain the sovereignty of Egypt. They reigned to- gether fifteen years in the utmost harmony : and to leave a famous monument of their concord to posterity, they jointly, and at a common expense, built the famous labyrinth, which was a pile oi building consisting of twelve large palaces, wnth as many edifices under ground as appeared above H. I have spoken elsewhere of this labyrinth. ^ One day, as the twelve kings v^ere assisting at a solemn and periodical sac- rifice offered in the temple of Vulcan, the priests, having presented each of them a golden bowl for the libation, one was wanting ; wnen Psammetichps,§ without any design, supplied the want of this bowl with his brazen heiaiet, 5br each wore one, and with it performed the ceremony of the libation. This accident struck the rest of the kings, and recalled to their memoiy the predic- tion of the oracle above mentioned. They thought it therefore necessary to f*cure themselves from his attempts, and therefore with one consent banished b'nri into the fenny parts of Egypt. After Psammetichus had passed some years there, waiting a favourable op- portunity to revenge himself for the affront which had been put upon him, a courier brought him advice, that brazen men were landed in Egypt. These frere Grecian soldiers, Carians and lonians, who had been cast upon the coasis of Egypt by a storm, and were completely covered with helmets, cuirasses, and other arms of brass. Psammetichus immediately called to mind the ora- cle, which had answered him, that he should be succoured by brazen men from the sea-coast. He did not doubt that the prediction was now fulfilled. He therefore made a league with these strangers ; engaged them with great * H«rod. 1. ii. cap. 142. f A. M. 3299. Ant. J. C. 795. Afric. apud SynceL p. 74. t -A. M. 3319. Ant. J. C. (585. Herod. 1. ii. cap. 147, 152. Diod. I. i. p. b9 J He WM OB« ef the iwtlve 140 HISTORY OF THE promises to stay with him ; prWqtely levied other forces, and put these Grecki at their head ; when, giving battle to the eleven kings, he defeated them, and remained sole possessor of Egypt. PsArriMEncHUS. As this prince owed his preservation to the lonians and Carians, he settled them in Egypt, from which all foreigners hitherto had been excluded ; and, by assigning them sufficient lands and fixed revenues, he mad^ them forget their native country.* By his order, Egyptian children were put under their care to learn the Greek tongue ; and on this occasion, and by thir? means, the Egyptians began to have a correspondence with the Greeks', and from that era, the Egyptian history, which till then had been intermixed with pompous fables, by the artifice of the priests, begins, according tc Herodotu*, to speak w ith greater truth and certainty. As soon as Psammetichus was settled on the throne, he engaged in a w a against the king of Assyria, on account of the limits of the two empires. Th war was of long continuance. Ever since Syria had been conquered by tl e Assyrians, Palestine, being the only country that separated the two kingdoms, was the subject of continual discord : as afterwards it was between the Ptole* mies and the Seleucidae. They w^ere perpetually contending for it, and it was alternately won by the stronger. Psammetichus, seeing himself the peaceable possessor of all Egypt, and having restored the ancient form of government,! thought it high time for him to look to his frontiers, and to secure them against the Assyrian, his neighbour, whose power increased daily. For this purpose he entered Palestine at the head of an army. Perhaps we are to refer to the beginning of this war, an incident related by Diodorus ;l that the Egyptians, provoked to see the Greeks posted on the right wing by the king himself in preference to them, quitted the service, being up- wards of two hundred thousand men, and retirea into Ethiopia, where they met with an advantageous settlement. Be this as it will, Psammetichus entered Palestine, where his career was stopped by Azotus, one of the principal cities of the country, which gave hin) so much trouble, that he was forced to besiege it twenty-nine years before be could take it.§ This is the longest siege mentioned in ancient history. This was anciently one of the five capital cities of the Philistines. The Egyptians, having seized it some time before, had fortified it with such care, [hat it was their strongest bulwark on that side. Nor could Sennacherib entei Egypt, till he had first made himself master of this city, which was taken by Tartan, one of his generals. The Assyrians had possessed it hitherto ; and ij was not till after the long siege just now mentioned, that Egypt recovered it. II In this period the Scythians, leaving the banks of the Palus Maeotis, made an inroad into Media, defeated Cyaxares, the king of that country, and laid waste all Upper Asia, of which they kept possession during twenty-eighl years. H They pushed their conquests in Syria, even to the frontiers of E^ypt ; but Psammetichus marching out to meet them, prevailed so far, by his presents and entreaties, that they advanced no farther ; and by that means delivered his kingdom from these dangerous enemies. Till his reign the Egyptians had imagined themselves to be the mo^st ancient nation upon earth.** Psammetichus was desirous to prove this himself, and he employed a very extraordinary experiment for this purpose. He command- ed, if we may creait the relation, two children, newly born of poor parents, to l)e brought up in the country, in a hovel, that was to be kept continually shut. They were committed to the care of a shepherd, others say of nurses whose tongues were cut iiut, who was to feed them with the milk of goats, and w^as commanded not suffer any person to enter this hut, nor himself to speak even a single word in the hearing of these children. At the expiration of two years, * A.M. 3331. Am J. C. 670. Herod. 1. ii. c. 153, 154. t Thip revolution happcnetl about seven years after the captivity of Manasseh, kins: of Ju. 3 Kinfx, xxiii. S9, SC 2 Chros. tur. 9^ ft. 143 HISTORY OF THE Nechao, animated by this victoiy, continued his march, and advanced lo wards the Euphrates. He defeated the Babylonians; took Carchemish, 2 large city in that country ; and securinji^ to himself the possession of it by a strong garrison, returned to his own kingdom, after having been absent threiod. 1. i. p. C2. { Ezek. xxix. 3. U Ez'k xvii. 1^ 7 Chap xsxi i 3 144 HISTORY OF THE Lord God, BehoM, 1 am against thee, Pharaoh king of Egypt, the great dragoB that lieth in the midst of his rivers, which hath said. My river is mine own^ arid I have made it for myself. But I will put hooks in thy jaws," &c.* God, after comparing him to a reed, which breaks under the man who leans upon it, and wounds his hand, adds,t " Behold, I will bring a sword upon thee, and cut off man and beast out of thee : and the land of Egypt shall be desolate, and they shall know that I am the Lord ; because he hath said, The river is mine, and I have made it." The same prophet, in several succeeding chap- ters, continues to foretel the calamities with which Egypt was going to b< oyerwhelraed.+ Zedekiah was far from giving credit to these predictions. When he heard of the approach of the Egyptian array, and saw Nebuchodonosor raise thfl siege of Jerusalem, he fancied that his deliverance was completed, and anti- cipated a triumph. His joy, however, was but of short duration, for theEgyp< tians, seeing the Chaldeans advancing, did not dare to encounter so numerous and well-disciplined an army. They therefore marched back into their own country, and left the unfortunate Zedekiah exposed to all the dangers of a wai in which they themselves had involved him.§ Nebuchodonosor again sai down before Jerusalem, took acd burnt it, as Jeremiah had prophesied. Many years after, the chastisements with which God had threatened Apries (Pharaoh-Hophra) began to fall upon him :|| for the Cyrenians, a Greek co- lony which had settled in Africa between Libya and Egypt, having seized upon, and divided among themselves, a great part of the country belonging to the Libyans, forced these nations, who were thus dispossessed by violence, to throw themselves into the arms of this prince, and implore his protection. Immediately Apries sent a mighty army into Libya, to oppose the Cyrenian Greeks ; but this army being entirely defeated and almost cut to pieces, the Egyptians imagined that Apries had sent it into Libya only to get it destroy- ed, and by that means to attain the power of governing his subjects without check or control. This reflection prompted the Egyptians to throw off the yoke which had been laid on them by their prince, whom they now consider- ed as their enemy. Apries, hearing of the rebellion, despatched Amasis, one of his officers, to suppress it, and force the rebels to return to their alle- giance; but the moment Amasis began to address them, they fixed a helmet upon his head, in token of the exalted dignity to which they intended to raise him, and proclaimed him king. Amasis, having accepted the crown, staid with the mutineers, and confirmed them in their rebellion. Apries, more exasperated than ever at this news, sent Paterberais, anotlier of his great officers, and one of the principal lords of his court, to put Amasis under an arrest, and bring him before him ; but Paterbemis, not being able to execute his commands, and bring away the rebel, as he was surrounded with the instruments of his treachery, was treated by Apries at his return in the most ignominious and inhuman manner ; for his nose and ears were cut off by ^he command of that prince, who never considered, that only his want of pow- er had prevented his executing his commission. So barbarous an outrage, committed upon a person of such high distinction, exasperated the Egyptiang «o much, that the greatest part of them joined the rebels, and the insurrec- tion became general. Apries was now forced to retire into Upper Egypt, where he supported himself some years, during which Amasis enjoyed the rest of his dominions. The troubles which thus distracted Egypt, affi^rded Nebuchodonosor a fa- vourable opportunity to invade that kingilom ; and it was God himself who mspired him with the rcsolutior This prince, who was the instrument of God's wrath, (though he did iiv t know himself to be so) against a people whom he had resolved to chastis( , had just before taken Tyre, where himself ♦ Ezelr. ixIy. 2, 8, 4. f Ezc ix'ix. 3, 9. J Chap, xxix, xxx, xxxi, xxiil } A. M. 3416. Ant. J. C. 588. Jcr. xxxvii. 6, 7. II A. M. 3430. A vt. J. C. 574. Herod. 1. ii. c J6i. it*. DU.^ ' ' ^ KfNGS or EGYPT. and his army had laboured under incredible difficulties. To recompense their toils, Gfod abandoned Egypt to their arms. It is wonderful to hear the Creator himself revealing his designs on this subiect. There are few passages in Scripture more remarkable than this, or which give a clearer idea of the su- preme authority which God exercises over all the princes and kingdoms of the earth. " Son ot man, (says the Almighty to his prophet Ezekiel,) Nebuchadnez- zar, king of Babylon, caused his army to serve a great service against Tyrus :* every head was made bald, and every shoulder was peeled :t vet hacl he no wages, nor his army, for the service he had served against it. J Therefore, thus saith the Lord God, behold I will give the land of Egypt unto Nebuchad- nezzar, king of Babylon, and he shall take her multitude, and take her spoil, and take her prey, and it shall be the wages for his army. I have given him the land of Egypt for his labour, wherewith he served against it, because they wrought for me, saith the Lord God." Says another prophet :§ " he shall ar- ray himself with the land of Egypt, as a shepherd putteth on his garment, and he shall go forth from thence in peace." Thus shall he load himself with booty, and thus cover his own shoulders, and those of his fold, with all the spoils of Egypt. Noble expressions ! which show the ease with which all the power and riches of a kingdom are carried away, when God appoint? the revolution ; and shift like a garment to a new owner, who has no more to do but to take it, and clothe himself with it. The king of Babylon, taking advantage therefore of the intestine division.'? which the rebellion of Amasis had occasioned in that kingdom, marched thithei at the head of his army. He subdued Egypt from Migdol or Magdol, a town on the frontiers of the kingdom, as far as Syene, in the opposite extremity where it borders on Ethiopia. He made a horrible devastation wherever he came ; killed a great number of the inhabitants, and made such dreadful havoc in the country, that the damage could not be repaired in forty years. Nebuchodonosor, having loaded his army with spoils, and conquered the whole kingdom, came to an ac- commodation with Amasis ; and leaving him as his viceroy there, returned to Babylon. Apries (Pharaoh-Hophra,)|| now leaving the place where he had concealed himself, advanced towards the sea-coast, probably on the side of Libya ; and, hiring an army of Carians, lonians, and other foreigners, he marched against Amasis, whom he fought near Memphis ; but being overcome, Apries was taken prisoner, carried to the city of Sais, and there strangled in his own palace. The Almighty had given, by the mouth of his prophets, an astonishing rela- tion of the several circumstances of this mighty event. It was he who had broken the power of Apries, which was once so formidable ; and put the svrord into the hand of Nebuchodonosor, in order that he might chastise and humble that haugh- ty prince. " I am (said he) against Pharaoh king of Egypt, and will break liis arms which were strong, but now are broken ; and I will cause the sword lo fall out of his hand.H — But I will strengthen the arms of the king of Babvlon, and put my sword into his hand.** — And they shall know that I am the Lord/'tr He enumerates tjae towns which were to fall a prey to the victors : Pathros,!! Zoan, No, called in the Vulgate, Alexandria, Sin, Avon, Phibeseth, &c.§§ * Ezek. xxix. IC, 19, -20. I The balc^ness of the hear English version. "In the inargin are print- «d agDfinst Zoan, Tanis ; against Sin, Pelusium ; at,^ainst Aven, Heliopolis ; against Phibfsetb, Fubastuw (Bubaste,) and by these last names they are rnentioned in the ori^^inal French of M R'^lliw. Vol I. 146 HISTORY OF TWE He lakes notice particularly of the unhappy end to rvhich the captive king ihould come. " Thus saith the Lord, behold I wiil give Pharaoh-Hophra, the king of Egypt, into the hand of his enemies, and into the hand of them that seek his life."* Lastly, He declares, that during forty years, the Egyptians shall be op- pressed with eveiy species of calamity, and be reduced to so deplorable a state, " that there shall be no more a prince of the land of Egypt."t The event verified this prophecy. Soon after the expiration of these forty years, t]gypt was made a province of the Persian empire, and has been governed ever since by foreigners. For, since the ruin of the Persian monarchy, it has been subject successively to the Macedonians, the Romans, the Saracens, the Mamelukes, and lastly to the Turks who possess it at this day. God was not less punctual in the accom.plishment of his prophecies, with regard to such of his own people as had retired, contrary to his prohibition, into Egypt, after the taking of Jerusalem, and forced Jeremiah along with them. J The instant they had reached Egypt, and were arrived at Taphnis, or Tanis, the prophet, after having hid, in their presence, by God's command, stones in a grotto, which was near the kind's palace ; he declared to thi m, that Nabuchodonosor should soon arrive in Egypt, and that God would estab- lish his throne in that very place ; that this prince would lay waste the whole kingdom, and carry fire and sword into all places ; that themselves should fall into the hand of these cruel enemies, when one part of them would be mas- sacred, and the rest led captive to Babylon ; that only a very small number should escape the common desolation, and be at last restored to their country. All these prophecies had their accomplishment in the appointed time. AMASiri.§ After the death of Apries, Amasis became peaceable possessor of Egypt, and reigned over it forty years. He was, according to Plato,|l a native of the city of Sais. As he was but of mean extraction, he met with no respect, and was con- temned by his subjects in the beginning of his reigndl He was not insensible i}[ this ; but nevertheless thought it his interest to subdue their tempers by bis artful carriage, and to win their affection by gentleness and reason. He had a golden cistern, in which himself, and those persons who were admitted to his table, used to wash their feet ; he melted it down, and had it cast into a statue, and then exposed the new god to public worship. The people hasten- ed in crowds to pay their adoration to the statue. The king, having assem- bled the people, informed them of the vile uses to which this statue had once been put, which nevertheless was now the object of their religious prostra- tions : the application was easy, and had the desired success ; the people thenceforward paid the king all the respect that is due to majesty. He always used to devote the whole morning to public affairs, in order to receive petitions, give audience, pronounce sentence, and hold his councils :** the rest of the day was given to pleasure; and as Amasis, in hours of diver- sion, was extremely gay, and seemed to carry his mirth beyond due bounds, his courtiers took the liberty to represent to him the unsuitableness of such a behaviour ; when he answered, that it was as impossible for the mind to be always serious and intent upon business, as for a bow to continue always bent. It was this king who obliged the inhabitants of every town to erter their names in a book kept by the magistrates for that purpose, with their profes- sion, and manner of living. Solon inserted this custom among his laws. He built manjr magnificent temples, especially at Sais, the place of his birth. Herodotus admired especially a chapel there, formed of one single stone, and which was twenty-one cubitsjt in front, fourteen in depth, and eight in height; its dimensions within were not quite so large : it had been brought from ♦ Jertm.xliv. 30. t Ezek. \xx. 13. t Jercm. xliii. xliv. j A. M. 3435. Ant. J. C itfk t) In Tz.. IT Hero<1. 1. ii. c. 172. ♦* Herod. 1. ii. p. 7?. ft TL< cubit is one foot and almost ten iucbf i — ViJ« siipra. KfN«» BGTPT, Ettphantina, and two thousand men were employed three years in conreyini; It along thr Nile. Amasis had a great esteem for the Greeks. He granted them lai^e privi leges ; and permitted such of them as were desirous of settling in Egypt to live in the city of Naucratis, so famous for its harbour. When the rebuildmg of the temple of Delphi, which had been burnt, was debated on, and the ex- pense was computed at three hundred talents,* Amasis furnished the Delphi- ans with a very considerable sum towards discharging their quota, which was the fourth part of the whole charge. He made an alliance with the Cyrenians, and married a wife from among them. He is the only king of Egypt who conquered the island of Cyprus, and made it tributary. Under his reign Pythagoras came into Egypt, being recommended to that monarch by the famous roly crates, tyrant of Samos, who had contracted a friendship with Amasis, and will be mentioned hereafter. Pythagoras, during his stay in Egypt, was initiated in all the mysteries of the country, and in- structed by the priests in whatever was most abstruse and important in their religion. It was here he imbibed his doctrine of the metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls. In the expedition in which Cyrus conquered so great a part of the world, Egyj)t doubtless was subdued, like the rest of the provinces ; and Xenophon positively declares this in the beginning of his Cyropsedia, or institution of that prince.t Probably, after that the forty years of desolation, which had been foretold by the prophet, were expired, Egypt beginning gradually to recover itself, Amasis shook off the yoke, and recovered nis liberty. Accordingly we find, that one of the first cares of Cambyses, the son of Cyrus, after he had ascended the throne, was to carry his arms into Egypt. On his arrival there, Amasis was just dead, and succeeded by his son Psam- menitus. PsAMMENiTus.t Cambyses. after having gained a battle, pursued the ene- my to Memphis ; besieged the city, and soon took it : however, he treated the king with clemency, granted him his life, and assigned him an honourable pension ; but being informed that he was secretly concerting measures to re- ascend his throne, he put him to death. Psammenitus reigned but six months • all Egypt submitted immediately to the victor. The particulars of the his- tory will be related more at large when I come to that of Cambyses. Here ends the succession of the Egyptian kings. From this era the history of this nation, as was before observed, will be blended with that of the Per- sians and Greeks, till the death of Alexander. At that period, a new mon- archy will arise in Egypt, founded by Ptolemy the son of Lagus,which will con- tinue to Cleopatra, that is, for about three hundred years. I shall treat cacb of these subjects in the several periods to which they beioi^. ♦ Or 4258.075. y k KAkt, HutokiMooi XA U^Hn. AatJ.C.IMk BOOK SECOND, THB HISTORY OF THE CARTHAGINIANS. PLAN. Hi* following- history of th« Carthaginiaos is divided into two parts. Id the first is ^iven a reneral idea of the manners of that people, their character, government, religion, power, and riches. Tn the second, after relating, in few words, by what steps Carthage established and enlarged its power, there is ag account of the wars by which it became so famous. PART FIRST. CHARACTER MANNERS, RELIGION, AND GOVERNMENT, OF THE CARTHAGINIANS. SECTION I. CARTHAGE FORMED AFTER THE MODEL OF TYRE, OF WHICH THAT CITT WAS A COLONY. The Carthaginians were indebted to the Tyrians, not only for their origin, but their manners, language, customs, laws, religion, and the great application to commerce, as will appear from every part of the sequel. They spoke the same language with the Tyrians, and these the same with the Canaanites and Israelites, that is, the Hebrew tongue, or at least a language which was en- tirely derived from it. Their names had commonly some particular meaning : . thus Hanno signified gracious^ hoimtiful ; Dido amiable^ or well beloved; So- phonisba, one who keeps faithfully her husband^ s' secrets,* From a spirU of reli- gion, they likewise joined the name of God to their own, conformably to the genius of the Hebrews. Hannibal, which answers to Ananias, signifies Baal (or the Lord) has been gracious to me. Asdrubal, answering to Azarias, implies the Lord will be our succour. It the same with other names, Adherbal, Ma- harbal, Mastanabal, &c. The tvord Poeni, from which Punic is derived, is the same with Phoeni or Phoenicians, because they came originally from Phoenicia, fn the Poenulus of Plautus is a scene written in the Punic tongue, which has very much exercised the leamed.t I5ut the strict union which always subsisted between the Phoenicians and Car- thaginians is still more remarkable. When Cambyses had resolved to make war upon the latter, the Phneniciant^ who f-^rmed the chief strength of his fleet, told him plainly, that they could not serve him against their countrymen ; and this declaration obliged that prince to lay aside his design.J The Carthaginians, on their side, were never forgetful of the country from whence they came, and to which they owed their origin. They sent regularly every year to Tyre a ship freighted with presents, as a * Bocli.irt. Part. II. I. ii. c. ''G. f Th« first scene of \hm fifth act transluted inlc Latin bv Pctli, in the secona took sf his MiscelUiuM i Henul. 1. iii. c. 1*7—1^ I^Q OF THE quit-rent or acknowledgment paid to their ancient country ; and its tutelar godt had an annual sacrifice oflfered to them by the Carthaginians, who considered them as their protectors.* They never failed to send thither the first fruits of their revenues, nor the tithe of the spoils taken from their enemies, as offerings to Hercuies, one of the principal gods of Tyre and Carthage. The Tyrians, lo secure from Alexander, who was then besieging their city, what they valued above all things, I mean their wives and children, sent them to Carthage, where, at a time that the inhabitants of the latter were involved in a furious war, they were received and entertained with such a kindness and generosity as might be expected from the most tender and opulent parents. Such uninterrupted tes- timonies of a warm and sincere gratitude do a nation more honour than th« greatest conquests and the most glorious victories. SECTION II. THE RELIGION OF IHE CARTHAGINIANS, It appears from several passages of the histoiy of Carthage, that its generals looked upon it as an indispensable duty to begin and end all their enterprises with the worship of the gods. Hamilcar, father of the great Hannibal, before he entered Spain in a hostile manner, offered up a sacrifice to the gods ; and his son, treading in his steps, before he left Spain, and marched against Home, went to Cadiz in order to pay the vows he made to Hercules, and to offer up new ones, in case that god should be propitious to him.f After the battle of Cannae, when he acquainted the Carthaginians with the joyful news, he pecom- mended to them, above all things, the offering up a solemn thanksgiving to the immortal gods, for the several victories he had obtained. Pro his tantis totqut victoriis verum esse gratis diis immortalibus agi haberique.f Nor was this religious honouring of the deity on all occasions the ambition of particular persons only, but it was flie genius and disposition of the whole nation Polvbius§ has transmitted to us a treaty ofj)eace concluded between Philip, son 01 Demetrius king of Macedon, and the Carthaginians, in which the great respect and veneration of the latter for the deity, ind their inherent persuasion that the gods assist and preside over human affdirs, and particularly over the solemn treaties made in their name and presence, are strongly displayed. Men- tion is therein made of five or six different orders of deities ; and this enumera- tion appears veiy extraordinary in a public instrument, such as a treaty of peace concluded between two nations. I will here present my readers with the very words of the historian, as it will give some idea of the Carthaginian theology. This treatywas concluded in the presence of Jupiter, Juno ^ and Apollo ; in the presence of the demon or genius (daiiiovos^ of the Carthaginians, of Hercules and Tolaus ; in the presence of Mars, Triton, and Neptune; in the presence of all the confederate gods of the Carthaginians, and of the sun, the moon, and tKe earth ; in the presence of the rivers, meads, and waters ; in the presence of all those gods who possess Carthage, What would we now say to an instrument of this kind, in which the tutelar angels and saints of a kingdom should be introduced ! The Carthaginians had two deities, to whom they paid a more particular w<^rship, and who desei-ve to have some mention made of them in this place. The fiist was the goddess Coelestis, called likewise Urania, or the moon, who was invoked in great calamities, and particularly in droughts, in order to obtain rain : that very virgin Coelestis, says Tertullian, the promiser of rain, — Ista Ipsa virgo Coslestis, pluviarum pollicitatrixM Terlullian, speaking of this god- dess, and of iEscuIapius, gives the heathens of that age a challenge, which is bold indeed, but at the same time very glorious to the cause of Christianity : and declares, that any Christian, who first comes, shall oblige these false gddf Polyb. W4. Q,. Curt. 1 ir. c. 2, 3. t Liv. 1. xxi. n. 1. 4 liib. vM. 9. 699. edit. Gronov. Ibid. n. 21. j Liv. 1. xxiii. n. II. H Apology, c. xx'ui to confess publicly that they are but devils; and consents that this Cbristian ihall be immediately ki)Ied, if he does not extort such a confession from the mouth of these gods. jVisi se dcpviones confessifuerint Christiano mentiri non audentes^ ibidem illius Chrisham procacissimi sanguinem fundite; St. Austin likewise makes frequent mention of this deity. What is now, says he,* become of Coslestis, whose empire was once so great in Carthage ? This was doubtless the sam£ deity whom J eremiBh calls the queen of heaven;] and who was held in so much reverence by the Jewish women, that they addressed their vows, burnt in- rense, poured out drink-offerings, and made cakes for her with their own hands, utfaciant placentas regince cceli : and from whom they boasted their having re- ceived all manner of blessings, w^hile they paid her a regular worshijp ; where- as, since they had failed in it, they had been oppressed with misfortunes of eveiy kind. The second deity particularly adored by the Carthaginians, and in whose hon- our human sacrifices were offered, was Saturn, known in Scripture by the name of Moloch ; and this w^orship passed from Tyre to Carthage. Philo quotes a passage from Sanchoniathon, which shows, that the kings of Tyre, in great dan- gers, used to sacrifice their sons to appease the anger of the gods ; and that one of them, by this action, procured himself divine honours, and was worshipped as a god, under the name of the planet Saturn : to this doubtless was owing the fable of Saturn devouring his own children. Private persons, when they were desirous of averting any great calamity, took the same method ; and, in imitation of their princes, were so very superstitious, that such as had no chil (Iren purchased those of the poor, in order that they might not be deprived of tlie merit of such a sacrifice. This custom prevailed long among the Phoeni- cians and Canaanites, from whom the Israelites borrowed it, though forbidden expressly by Heaven. At first children were inhumanly burned, either in a fiery furnace, like those in the valley of Hinnom, so often mentioned in Scrip- ture, or enclosed in a flaming statue of Saturn. The cries of these unhapp}^ vic- tims were drowned by the uninterrupted noise of drums and trumpets.J Mothers made it a merit, and a part of their religion, to view this barbarous spectacle with dry eyes, and without so much as a groan ; and if a tear or a sigh stole from them, the sacrifice was less acceptable to the deity, and all the effects of it were entirely lost.§ This strength of mind, or rather savage barbarity was carried to such excess, that even mothers would endeavour, with embraces and kisses, to hush the cries of their children ; lest, had the victim been offered with an unbecoming grace, and in the midst of tears, it should anger the god ill blanditiis et osculis comprimebant vagitum, ne Jiebilis hostia immolaretur,'^^ They afterwards^ contented themselves wath making their children pass through the fire, in which they frequently perished, as appears from several passages of Scripture.** The Carthaginians retained the barbarous custom of offering human sac- rifices to their gods, till the ruin of their city :tt an action which ought to have been called a sacrilege rather than a sacrifice,-— >Sam76^iMm verius quam sa^ ♦ In Psalm xcvlii. f Jer. vii. 18. xWv. 17—55. \ Pint, de Superstit. p. l""!. } riapf icTT^itfl 5{ f ^TiTup (5TS7t|TOf xai dcTTtvanTOJ. &c. The cruel and pitiless mother stood ky ks an Mnconcerned spectator ; a groan or a tear fallinj^ from her, would nave been punished by a fme ; and stiU the child must have been sacrificed. — Plut. de Superstitione. II Tertul. in Apoiog. IT Minut. Felix. ** Q,. Curt. 1. iv. c. 5. ft It appears from Tertullian's Apology, that ihis Darbarons custom prevailed in Africa, long after th« ruin of Carthage. Infantes nenes Africam Saturno immolabantur ralim usque ad proconsulatum Tiberii, qui eosdcm sacerdotes in eisde.m arboribus templi sui obumhratriribus scelerum votivis crucibus exposuit, teste militid patria; nostra, qute id ipsum muniisilli proconsuli functa est. i. e. Children were publicly sa- crificed to Saturn, down to the proconsulship of Tiberius, who hanged the sacrificing priests themselvrt on the trees which shaded their temple, as on so many crosses raised to expiate their crimes, of which the militia of ourcoimtry are witnesses, who were the actors, of this execution, at the command of this pro- consul.— Tertul. Apolog. c. 9. Two learned men arc at variance about the proconsul, and time of his gov •rnment. Salmasius confesses his ignorance of both. But rejects the autnority of Scal'ger, who, for prucon- tulatum, rc&<\s prvconsvlem Tiberii, and thinks Tertullian, when he wrote his Apology, had forrot hit iam«. However this be, it is o^rtain that the mrrnory of the incident here Telalcd by Tertullian wif tll«* %i:cnt *nd probuS'y the witnesses of it had not htfv long- deail. t51 HISTORY c*^ mis erum. It was suspended only for some years, from the fear they were undi i of drawing upon themselves the indignation and a: ms of Darius I. king o * Persia, who forbade them the offering up of human sacrifices, and the eatinjf the flesh of dogs ; but they soon resnmed this horrid practice, since, in th » reign of Xerxes, the successor to Darius, Gelon, the tyrant of Syracuse, )iavin|{ gained a considerable victory over the Carthaginians in Sicily, ordered, anionic other conditions of peace. That no more human sacrifices should be offered to Sa- turn.^ And, doubtless, the practice of the Carthaginians, on this vrry occa sion, made Gelon use this precaution. For during the whole engagement which lasted from morning till night, Hamilcar, the son of Hanno their general, was perpetually offering up to the gods sacrifices of living men, who wer« thrown in great numbers on a flaming pile ; and seeing his troops routed and put to flight, he himself rushed into it, in order that he might not survive hii own disgrace ;t and to extinguish, says St. Ambrose, speaking of this action, with his own blood this sacrilegious fire, when he found that it had not proved of service to him. J In times of pestilence they used to sacrifice a great number of children to their gods, unmoved with pity for a tender age, which excites compassion in the most cruel enemies ; thus seeking a remedy for their evils in guilt itself, and endeavouring to appease the gods by the most shocking barbarity § Diodorus'il relates an instance of this cruelty, which strikes the reader with horror. At the time that Agathocles was just going to besiege Carthage, its inhabitants, seeing the extremity to which they were reduced, imputed all their misfortunes to the just anger of Saturn, because that, instead of oflering up children nobly born, who were usually sacrificed to him, he had been fraudu- lently put off with the children of slaves and foreigners. To atone for this crime, two hundred children of the best families in Carthage were sacrificed Ic Saturn ; besides which, upwards of three hundred citizens, from a sense of their guilt of this pretended crime, voluntarily sacrificed themselves. Diodo- rus adds, that there was a brazen statue of Saturn, the hands of which were turned downwards, so that, wlien a child was laid on them, it dropped imme diately into a hollow, where was a fiery furnace. Can this, says Plutarch,^ be called worshipping the gods ? Can we be said to entertain an honourable idea of them, if we suppose that they are pleased with slaughter, thirsty of human blood, and capable of requiring or accepting such offerings ? Religion, says this judicious autnor, is placed between two rocks, that are equally dangerous to man and injurious to the Deity, 1 mean* impiety and superstition. The one, from an affectation of free-thinking, be- lieves nothing ; and the other, from a blind weakness, believes all things. Im- piety, to rid itself of a terror which galls it, denies the very existence of the gods ; while superstition, to calm its fears, capriciously forces gods, which U makes not only the friends, but protectors and models of crimes.** Had it not been better, say« he farther, for ike Carthaginians to have had a Critias, a Di- agora?-, and such like open and undisguised atheists for their lawgivers, than to have established so frantic and wicked a religion ? Could the Typhous and the giants, (the avowed enemies of the gods,) had they gained a victory over them, have established more abominable sacrifices?tt Such were the sentiments Which a heathen entertained of this part of the Carthaginian worship. But one would hardly believe that mankind were ca- pable of such madness and frenzy. Men do not generally entertain ideas so . * Plut. de Ser. Vindic. Deorum, p. 65'i. f Herod. 1. vii. c. 167. J In ipsos quos adoJebat sese prajcipitavitignes, ut eo» vel cruore suo exling-ueret, quossibi nihil profuisM eo§'n')verat. — St. Anib. { Cum peste laboraient, cruenta sacrorum rcligione et scelere pro remedio usi sunt. Quippe hominei al fictimas iinmolabant, et impuberes, (qi.ae Ktusetiarn hostium misericordlam provocat,) aris admovcbaot, pacem deorum sanguine eorum exposccntes, pro quorum vita dii maximS rog^an soleut. — Justin. 1. xviii. « 6. The Gauls, as well ai Germans, used to sarrifice men, if Dionysius and Tacitus may be credited. 9 Lib. ii. p. 755. If De Stiperstllione, p. 169—171. *♦ Idem, in Camill. p. 199 l)e Supfirstitiomi CARTHAGINIANS. 153 destructive of all those things which nature considers as most sacred, as to sa- crifice, to murder their children with their own hands, and to throw them in cool blood into fieiy furnaces ! Sentiments, so unnatural and barbarous and yet adopted by whole nations, and even by the most civilized, as tlie Ph(eni- cians, Cartliaginians, Gauls, Scythians, and even the Greeks and Romans, and consecrated by custom during a long series of ages, can have been inspired by him only, who was a murderer from the beginning, and who delights in nothinp^ but the humiliation, misery, and perdition of man. SECTION III. FORM. OF THE GOVERNMENT OF CARTHAGE. The government of Carthage was founded upon principles of the mo' 4 • •umniate wisdom, and it is with reason that Aristotle ranks this republic; in th« number of those that were had in the greatest esteem by the ancients, and which were fit to serve as models for others.* He grounds his opinion on a reflection which does great honour to Carthage, by remarking, that from its foundation to his time, that is, upwards of five hundred years, no considerable se- dition had disturbed the peace, nor any tyrant oppressed the liberty, of that state. Indeed, mixed governments, such as that of Carthage, wher* the power was divided between the nobles and the people, are subject to * ^o inconveniences ; either of degenerating into an abuse of liberty by the sed 'itons of the populace, as frequently happened in Athens, and in all the Greci^ii republics ; or into the oppression of the public liberty by the tyranny of the nobles, as in Athens, Syra- cuse, Corinth, Thebes, and Rome itself under Sylla and Caesar. It is therefore giving Carthage the highest praise, to observe, that it had found out the art, by the wisdom of its laws, and the harmony of the different parts of its government, to shun, during so long a series of years, two '•jcks that are so dangerous, and on wh'ch others so often split. It were to b% wished, that some ancient author had left us an accurate and regular description of the customs and laws of this famous republic. For want of such assistance, we can only give our readers a confused and imperfect idea of them, by collecting the several passages which lie scattered up and down in authors. Christopher Hendrich has obliged the learned world in this particular ; and his work has been of great service to me.t The government of Carthage, like that of Sparta and Rome, united three dif- ferent authorities, which counterpoised and gave mutual assistance to one another.! These authorities were, that of the two supreme magistrates called suffetes,§ that of the senate, and that of the people. There afterwards was added the tribunal of one hundred, which had great credit and influence in the republic THE SUFFETES. The power of the suffetes was only annual, and their authority in Carthage answered to that of the consuls at Rome.ll In authors they are frequently call- ed kings, dictators, consuls ; because they exercised the functions of all three. History does not inform us of the manner of their election. They were em- powered to assemble the senate, liF in which they presided, proposed subjects for deliberation, and collected the votes and they likewise presided in all de- bates on matters of importance. Theii authority was not limited to the city, nor confined to civil affairs : they sometimes had the command of the armies. * De Rep. 1. ii. c. II. f It is entitled, Carthago, sire Carthaginensium Respublica, &c. — Francofurti ad Oderam, ann. 1664. t Polvb. 1. iv. p. 493. I This name is derived from a ^rord, which with the Hebrews and Phrenicians, signifies judgfes, Shopheti n. i) Ut Romse consules, sic Carthagine quotannis annui bini reges creabantur.-— Corn. Nep. in Vita A-tiai* belis, c. 7. The great Hannibal was once one of the suffetes. % SeDatum itaqu« suffetes, quod velut consulare imperium apud eos erat, vocarerunt. — Lir 1. xx%. 7 ** CfUa suffetes ad jus dicenduxn cono»ditsont. — Idem. 1. xxx'xr m. 63. |)^^ ' filBTORY OP THE We fiud, lhat when their employment of sufFetes expired, they were made praetors, whose office was considerable, since it empowered them to preside in some causes ; as also, to propose and enact new laws, and call to account the receivers of the public revenues, as appears from what Livy* relates concern* ins Hannibal on this head, and which! shall take notice of in the sequel. THE SENATE. The senate, composed of persons who were venerable on account of their age, their experience, their birth, their riches, and especially their merit, form- ed the council of state ; and were, if I may use that expression, the soul of the public deliberations. Their number is not exactly known ; it must, how- ever, have been very great, since a hundred were selected from it to form a separate assembly, ot which I shall immediately have occasion to speak. In the senate, all affairs of consequence we redebated, the letters from generals read, the complaints of provinces heard, ambassadors admitted to audience, and peace or war determined, as is seen on many occasions. When the sentiments and votes were unanimous, the senate decided su- premely, and there lay no appeal from it.t When there was a division, and the senate could not be brought to an agreement, the alFair was then brought before the people, on whom the power of deciding thereby devolved. The reader will easily perceive the great wisdom of this regulation ; and how hap- pily it is adapted to crush factions, to produce harmony, and to enforce and corroborate good counsel ; such an assembly being extremely jealous of its authority, and not easily prevailed upon to let it pass injo other hands. Of this we have a memorable instance in Polybius.J When, after the loss of the bat- tle fought in Africa at the end of the second Punic war, the conditions of peace offered by the victor were read in the senate ; Hannibal, observing that one of the senators opposed them, represented in the strongest terms, that as the safety of the republic lay at stake, it was of the utmost importance for the senators to be unanimous in their resolutions, to prevent sucn a debate from coming before the people ; and he carried his point. This doubtless laid the foundation, in the infancy of the republic, of the senate's power, and raised its authority to so great a height. And the same author observes in another place, that while the senate had the administration of affairs, the state was governed with great wisdom, and was successful in all its enterprises. § THE PEOPLE. It appears from every thing related hitherto, that even as late as Aristotle s time, who gives so beautiful a picture and bestows so noble an eulogium on the government of Carthage, the people spontaneously left the care of pablic affairs, and the chief administration of them, to the senate ; and this it was which made the republic so powerful. But things changed afterwards : for the people, grown insolent by their wealth and conquests, and forgetting that they owed these blessings to the prudent conduct of the senate, were desirous of having a share in the government, and arrogated to themselves almost the whole power. From that period, the public affairs were transacted wholly by cabals and factions ; and this Polybius assigns as one of the chief causes of the ruin of Carthage. THE TRIBUNAL OF THE HUNDRED. This was a body composed of a hundred and four persons ; though often for brevity's sake, they are called only the hundred. These according to Aristotle, were the same in Carthage as the ephori in Sparta ^ whence it ap* pears, that they were instituted to balance the power of the nobles and senate # but with this difference, that the ephori were but five in number, and elected ♦ Lib. xxTciii. n. 46, 47. f Arist. loc. cit. X Lib. iv. p. 706, 707. 5 Pol/b. 1. vi. i>. 194. A. CurCi- 487- CARTHAGINIANS. 15* innuallj ; whereas these were perpetual, and were upwards of a hukidred. It is believed that these centum virs are the same with the hundred judges mentioned by Justin,* who were taken out of the senate, and appointed to in- quire into the conduct of their generals. The exorbitant power of Mago'S (amily, which, by its engrossing the chief employments I^oth of the state and the army, had therebv the sole direction and management of all affairs, gave occasion to this establishment. It was intended as a curb to the authority ol their generals, which, while the armies were in the field, was almost bound- less and absolute ; but, by this institution, it became subject to the laws, by the obligation their generals wers under of giving an account of their actions before these judges, on their return from the campaign. Ut hoc metu ita in hello imperia cogitarent^ ut domi judicia legesque respicerent,\ Of these hun- dred and four judges, five had a particular jurisdiction superior to that of the rest ; but it is not Known how long their authority lasted. This council of five was like the council of ten in the Venetian senate. A vacancy in their number could be filled by none but themselves. They also had the power of choosing those who composed the council of the hundred. Their authority was very great, and for that reason none were elected into this office but per- sons of uncommon merit, and it was not judged proper to annex any salary or reward to it ; the single motive of the public good being thought a tie suf- ficient to engage honest men to a conscientious and faithful discharge of their duty. Polybius,J in his account of the taking of New Carthage bv Scipio, distii^uishes clearly two orders of magistrates established in Old Carthage; for he says, that among the prisoners taken at New Carthage, were two ma- gistrates belonging to the body or assembly of old men, (u rfis njouo-faj :) so he calls the council of the hundred; and fifteen of the senate (jx Eu7xXr.Tcu.) Livy mentions only the fifteen of the senators ; but, in another place, he names the old men, and tells us, that they formed the most venerable council of the government, and had great authority in the senate. § ^ Carthagmiensts — Orato- res ad pacem petendam rnittunt triginta seniorum principes. Id erat sanctius npud illos, concitfum maximique ad ipsum senatnm regendum vis,\\ Establishments, though constituted with the greatest wisdom and the justest harmonjr of parts, degenerate, however, insensibly into disorder and the most destructive licentiousness. These judges, who, by the lawful execution of their power, were a terror to transgressors, and the great pillars of justice, abusing their almost unlimited authority, became so many petty tyrants. We shall see this verified in the history of the great Hannibal, who, during his praetorship, after his return to Africa, employed all his influence to reform so horrid an abuse ; and made the authority of these judges, which before was perpetual, only annual, about two hundred years from the first founding the tribunal of the one hundred. IT DEFECTS IN THE GOVERNMENT OF CARTHAGE, Aristotle, among other reflections made by him on the government of Carthage, remarks two defects in it, both which, in his opinion, are repugnant to the views of a wise lawgiver, and the maxims of sound policy. The first of these defects was, the investing the same person with diffierent employments, which was considered at Carthage as a proof of uncommon merit. But Aristotle thinks this practice highly prejudicial to a community. ♦ Lib. xix. c. 2. A. M. 3069. A. Garth. 487. t -Tustin. I. xlx. X Lib. X. p. 824. edit. Gronov. § Liv. xxvi. n. 51. Lib. xxx. n. 16. 11 Mr. Rollin might ha/e taken notice of some civil officers who were established at Carthage, with a power like that of the ca nsors of Rome, to inspect the manners of the citizens. The chief of these o&cen took ffom Hpmilcar, the father of Hannibal, a beautiful youth, named Asdrubal, on a report that Hamilcar was more familiar with this youth than was consistent with modestv. Erat pr«terSL cum eo [AmilcarcJ adolescens iliuttris et formosus, Hasdrubal, quern nonnulli diligi turpiiis, quam par erat, ah Amilcarc, loque- bantur. Q,uo faetura eit ot k praslecto morum Hasdrubal cum eo vetar«tur esse. — Corn. iVTep. im Yitk Am f A. M. a'^^^: .A. rarl\. 156 HISTORY or THE F or, says this author, a man possessed but of one emp^s jmcnl is much mom capable of acquitting himself well in the execution of it ; because affairs are then examined mth greater care, and sooner despatched. W e never see, con- tinues our author, either by sea or land, the same officer commanding two dif- ferent bodies, or the same pilot steering two ships. Besides, the welfare of the state requires, that places and preferments should be divided, in order to ex- cite an emulation among n>en of merit : whereas the bestowing of them on one man too often dazzles him by so distinguishing a preference, and always fills others with jealousy, discontent, and murmurs. The second defect taken notice of by Aristotle in the government of Car- thage, was, that in order for a man to attain the first posts, a certain estate was required, besides merit and a conspicuous birth ; by which means poverty might exclude persons of the most exalted merit, which he considers as a great v.vli in a government. For then, says he, as virtue is wholl}^ disregarded, and money is all-jpowerful, because all things are attained by it, the admiration and desire of riches seize and corrupt the whole community. Add to this, that when magistrates and judges are obliged to pay large sums for their em- plovments, they seem to have a right to reimburse themselves. There is not, I believe, one instance in all antiquity, to show that employ- ments, either in the state or the courts of justice, were sold. The expense, - therefore, which Aristode talks of here, to raise men to preferments in Car- thage, must doubtless be understood of the presents that were given, in order to procure the votes of the electors : a practice, as Polybius observes, xery common at Carthage, where no kind of gain was considered a disgrace.* It is therefore no wonder, that Aristotle should condemn a practice, which it is very plain may in its consequences prove fatal to a government. But in case he pretended, that the chief employm^ents of a state ought to be equally accessible to the rich and the poor, as he seems to insinuate, his opin- ion is refuted by the general practice of the wisest republics ; for these, without ill any way demeaning or aspersing poverty, have thought, that on this occasion the preference ought to be given to riches ; because it is to^e presumed, that the wealthy have received a better education, have nobler views, are more out of the reach of corruption, and less liable to commit base actions ; and that t'ven the state of their affairs makes them more affectionate to the government, inclines them to maintain peace and order in it, and to suppress whatever may tend to sedition and rebellion. . Aristotle, in concluding his reflections on the republic of Carthage, is much pleased with a custom practised in it, viz. of sending from time to time colo- nies into different countries, and in this manner procuring its citizens commo- dious settlements. This provided for the necessities of the poor, who, equallv with the rich, are members of the state ; and it discharged Carthage of mul titudes of lazy, indolent people, who were its disgrace, and often proved dan- gerous to it : it prevented commotions and insurrections, by thus removing such persons as commonly occasion them ; and who, being very uneasy under tiieir present circumstances, are always ready for innovations and tumults. g g SECTION IV. TRADE OF CARTHAGE^ THE FIRST SOURCE OF ITS WEALTH AND POWER. Commerce, strictly speaking, was the occupation of Carthage, the particu- lar object of its industry, and its peculiar and predominant characteristic. It formed the greatest strength, and the chief support of that commonwealth. Ii! a word, we may affirm that the power, the conquests, the credit, and the glory uf the Carthaginians, all flowed from their commerce. Situated in the centre of the Mediterranean, and stretching out their arms eastward and westward CARTHAGLMANa. 157 the extent of their commerce took in all the known world ; and wafted it to the coast of Spain, of Mauritania, of Gaul, and beyond the strait and pillars of Hercules. They sailed to all countries, in order to buy, at a cheap rate, »he superfluities of every na.ion, which, by the wants of others, became neces- «aries , and these they sold to them at the dearest rate. From Egypt the Carthaginians brought fine flax, paper, corn, sails, and cables for ships ; from the coast of the Red Sea, spices, frankincense, perfumes, gold, pearl, and pre cious stones ; from Tyre and Phoenicia, purple and scarlet, rich stuffs, tapes- try, costly furniture, and divers curious and exquisite vyorks of art ; in a word, they brought from various countries, ail things that can supply the necessities^ or are capable of contributing to the comfort, luxury, and the delights of life. They brought back from the western parts of the world, in return for the com- modities carried thither, iron, tin, lead, and copper : by the sale of which articles, they enriched themselves at the expense of all nations ; and put them under a kind of contribution, which was so much the surer, as it was spontaneous. In thus becoming the factors and agents of all nations, they had made them- selves lords of the sea ; the band which held the east, the west, and south together, and the necessary channel of their communication ; so that Carthage rose to be the common city, and the centre of the trade of all those nations which the sea separated from one another. The most considerable personages of the city were not ashamed of engaging in trade. They applied themselves to it as industriously as the meanest citi- zens ; and their great wealth did not make them less in love with the dili- gence, patience, and labour, which are necessary for the acquisition of it. To this they owed their empire of the sea ; the splendour of their republic ; their being able to dispute for superiority with Rome itself ; and their elevation of power, which forced the Romans to carry on a bloody and doubtful war for upv/ards of forty years, in order to humble and subdue this haughty rival. In short, Rome, even in its triumphant state, thought Carthage was not to be en- tirely reduced any other way than by depriving that city of the benefit of its *:ommerce, by which it had been so long enabled to resist the whole strength of that mighty republic. However, it is no wonder that, as Carthage .-ame in a manner out of the greatest school of traffic in the world, I mean Tyre, she should have been crowned with such rapid and uninterrupted success. The very vessels in vvhich its founders had been conveyed into Africa, were afterwards employed by thc:n in their trade. They began to make settlements upon the coasts of Spain, in those ports where they unloaded their goods. The ease with which they ha; i founded these settlements, and the conveniences they met with, inspired thc-r; with the design of conquering those vast regions ; and sometime after, A'ava Carthago,or^ew Carthage, gave the Carthaginians an empire in that country, almost equal to that which they enjoyed in Africa SECTION V. THE MINBS OF SPAIN, THE SECOND SOURCE OF THE RICHES AMD POWER Ct CARTHAGE. DioDORUS* justly remarks that the gold and silver mines, found by the Carthaginians^ in Spain, were an inexhaustible fund of wealth, that enabled them to sustain such long wars against the Romans. The natives had long been ignorant of these treasures that lay concealed in the bowels of the eanh, at least of their use and value. The Phcenicians took advantage of this ig- norance, and by bartering some wares of little value for this precious metal, vvhich the natives sufiered them to dig up, they amassed infinite wealth. 158 HirrORY OF TKE When the Carthaginians had made themselves masters of the country, they ^ which were dug to enrich their masters, who treated them with the utmo«t barbarity, forced them by heavy stripes to labour, and gave them no respite either day or night. Polybius,! as quoted by Strabo, sajs, that in his time, upwards of forty-thousand men were employed in the mmes near J^ova Car thago, and furnished the Romans every day with twenty-five thousand drachms, or three thousand eight hundred and fifteen dollars and sixty-three cents. J We must not be surprised to see the Carthaginians, soon after the greatest defeats, sending fresh and numerous armies again into the field ; fitting out mighty fleets, and supporting, at a great expense, for many years, wars car* ried on by them in far distant countries. But it must surprise us to hear of the Romans doing the same ; they whose revenues were very inconsiderable before those great conquests, which subjected to them the most powerful na- tions ; and who had no resources, either from trade, to which they were absolute strangers, or from gold or silver mines, which were very rarely found in Italy, in cose there were any ; and consequently, the expenses of which must have swallowed up all the profit. The Romans, in the frugal and simple life they led, in their zeal for the public welfare and love for their country, possessed * funds which were not less ready or secure than those of Carthage, but, at the same time were far more honourable to their nation. SECTION VI WAR. Jarthage must be considered as a trading, and at the same time a warlike republic. Its genius, and the nature of its government, led it to traffic ; and from the necessity the Carthaginians were under, first of defending themselves against the neighbouring nations, and afterwards liom a desire of extending their commerce and empire, they became warlike This double idea gives us, in my opinion, the true plan and character of the Carthaginian republic. We have already spoken of its commerce. The military power of the Carthaginians consisted in their alliances with kings; in tributary nations, from which they drew both men and money ; ia some troops raised from among their own citizens ; and in mercenary soldiers, purchased of neighbouring states, without their being obliged to levy or exer- cise them, because they were already well disciplined and inured to the fa- tigues of war ; for they made choice, in every country, of such soldiers as had the greatest merit and reputation. They drew from Numidia a nimble, bold, impetuous and indefatigable cavalry, which formed the principal strength of * Lib. ir. p. 312, &c. f Lib. iii- H7. X Twenty-five thousand drachms. — An attic drachm, according to Dr. Bernard = 8;id. Enylish moQ«r e^wqueutljr, 25,000 = «i>9/ Is. td. CARTHAGINIANS. their armies ; from the Balearian isles, the most expert sh'r^ers in the world: from Spain, a steady and invincible infantry ; from the coasts of Genoa ana Gaul, troops of known valour ; and from Greece itself, soldiers fit for all the various operations of war, for the field or the garrison, for besieging or de- fending cities. In this manner, the Carthaginians sent out at once powerful ai-mies com- posed of soldiers which were the flower of all the armies in the universe, without depopulating either their fields or cities by new levies ; without sus- jyendin^ their manufactures, or disturbing the peaceful artificer; without in- lerruptmg their commerce, or weakening their navy. By venal blood they possessed themselves of provinces and kingdoms; and made other nations the rnstruments of their grandeur and glory, with no other expense of their own than their money, and even this furnished from the traffic they carried on with foreign nations. If the Carthaginians, in the course of the war, sustained some losses, these trer** ^ut as so many foreign accidents, which only grazed, as it were, the body of tne state, but did not make a deep wound in the bowels or heart of the re- public. These losses were speedily repaired, by sums arising out of a flou- rishing commerce, as from a perpetual sinew of war, by which the government was furnished with new supplies for the purchase of mercenary forces, who were ready at the first summons. And, from the vast extent of the coasts which the Carthaginians possessed, it was easy for them to levy, in a very lit- tle time, a sufficient number of sailors and rowers for the working of their fleets, and to procure able pilots and experienced captains to conduct them. But, as these parts were fortuitously brought together, they did not adhere by any natural, intimate, or necessary tie. No common' and reciprocal inte- rest united them in such a manner as to form a solid and unalterable body. Not one individual in these mercenary armies wished sincerely the prosperity of the state. They did not act with the same zeal, nor expose themselves to dangers with equal resolution, for a republic which they considered as foreign, and which consequently was indifferent to them, as they would have done for their native country, whose happiness constitutes that of the several members who compose it. 4 In great reverses of fortune, the kings in alliance with the Carthaginiani might easily be detached from their interest, either by that jealousy which the grandeur of a more powerful neighbour naturally gives ; or from the hopes of reaping greater advantages from a new friend ; or from the fear of being involved in the misfortunes of an old ally.* The tributary nations, being impatient under the weight and disgrace of a yoke which had been forced upon their necks, greatly flattered themselves with the hopes of finding one less galHng in changing Iheir masters ; or, in case servitude was unavoidable, the choice was indifferent to them, as will ap- pear from many instances in the course of this history. The mercenary forces, accustomed to measure their fidelity by the lai^e- ness or continuance of their pay, were ever ready, on the least discontent, or the slightest expectation of a more considerable stipend, to desert to the ene- my with whom they had just before fought, and to turn their arms against those who had invited them to their assistance. Thus the grandeur of the Carthaginians, being sustained only by these foreign supports, was shaken to the very foundation when they were taken away. And if, to this, there happened to be added an interruption of their commerce, by which only they subsisted, arising from the loss of a naval engagement, they imagined themselves to be on the brink of ruin, and abandoned themselves to despondency and despair, as was evidently seen at the end of the first Punic war. Aristotle, in the treatise where he shows the advantages and defects of the wernment of Carthage, finds no fault with its keeping up none but foreign • A»Svj>hai 9mi MfttiDisMi. jQQ HWBTORY OF THE forces ; it is therefore probable, that the Carthaginians did not fall into thL practice till a long time after. But the rebQllions which harassed Carthage if Its later years ought to have taught its citizens, that no miseries are comparbl< to those of a government which is supported only by foreigners ; since neithei zeal, security, nor obedience, can be expected from them. But this was not the case with the republic of Rome. As the Romans had neither trade nor money, they were not able to hire forces, in order to push on their conquests with the same rapidity as the Carthaginians: but then, as they procured every thing from within themselves, and as all the ^arts of the state were intimately united, they had surer resources in great misfortunes than the Carthaginians. And for this reason, they never once thought of suing for peace after the battle of Cannae, as the Carthaginians had done in a less imminent danger. The Carthaginians had, besides, a body of troops, which was not very nu- merous, levied from among their own citizens ; and this was a kind of school, in which the flower of their nobility, and those whose talents and ambition prompted them to aspire to the first dignities,] earned the rudiments of the art of war. From among these were selected all the general officers, who were put at the head of the different bodies of their forces, and had the chief com- mand in the armies. This nation was too iealous and suspicious to employ foreign generals. But they were not so distrustful of their own citizens as Rome and Athens ; for the Carthaginians, at the same time that they invested them with great power, did not guard against the abuse they might make of it, in order to oppress their country. The command of armies was neither annual, nor limited to any time, as in the two republics above mentioned. Many gen- erals held their commissions for a great number of years, either till the war or their lives ended ; though they were still accountable to the commonwealth for their conduct, and liable to be recalled, whenever a real oversight, a mis fortune, or the superior interest of a cabal, furnished an opportunity for it. SECTION VII. ARTS AND SCIENCES. It cannot be said that the Carthaginians renounced entirely the glory whicb results from study and knowledge. The sending of Masinissa, son of a power- ful king,* thither for education, gives us room to believe, that Carthage was provided with an excellent school. The great Hannibal, who in all respects was an ornament to that city, was not unacquainted with polite literature, aa will be seen hereafter.! Mago, another very celebrated general, did as much honour to Carthage by his pen as by his victories.J; He wrote twenty-eight volumes upon husbandry, which the Roman senate had in such esteem, that after the taking of Carthage, when they presented the African princes with the libraries founded there, another proof that learning was not entirely ba- nished from Carthage, they gave orders to have these books translated intii Latin, § though Cato had before written books on that subject. There is stiH extant a Greek version of a treatise, drawn up by Hanno in the Punic tongue, relating to a voyage he made, by order of the senate, with a considerable fleet, round Africa, for the settling of different colonies in that part of the world.H This Hanno is believed to be more ancient than that person of the same nam^ who lived in the time of Agathocles. (/litomachus,.called in the Punic language Asdrubal, was a great philosopher.'! He succeeded the famous Carneades, whose disiciple he had been ; and mail * Kin^ of the Massylians in Africa, f Jiepos in viti Amiibalis. X ^'c. de Orat. 1. i. n. 249. Plin. 1. xriii c. 9. } The«« books were written hj Mago in the Punic language, and translated into Greek by Casciuf DW »vBiut of Utica, from whoie version m»y probably suppose the Latin was made VoM d« Hist. Gr. I. IT. V Plut. de Fort. Ale». p 2^8. Piof. Lafirt. in Clltetween one Suniatus, a powerful (""arlhag-inian, and DionjsiJ* t! c tyrant of Sicily; the former, by letters written in Greek, vrhich afterwards fell into the hands of tfe* f nrtha^idians, havlnsj informed the tyrant of the war dasi^Bed against him by his country, ou' of bntfW to Hanno the jceneral, to whum he was an cneriiy. Vol. I 163 HISTORY OF THE cencTof manners, and those sentiments of virtue, which are generally the frulti of a liberal education in all civilized nations. The small number of great men which this nation has produced, must therefore have owed their merit to the felicity of their genius, to the singularity of their talents, and a long experience, without any great assistance from instruction. Hence it was, that the merit of the greatest men of Carthage was sullied by great failings, low vices, and cruel passions ; audit is rare to meet with any conspicuous virtue among them without some blemish ; with any virtue of a noble, generous, and amiable kind, and supported by clear and lasting principles, such as is every where found among the Greeks and Romans. The reader will perceive, that I here speak only of the heathen virtues, and agreeably to the idea which the pagans eruer tained of them. I meet with as few monuments of their skill in arts of a less noble and neces - sary kind, as painting and sculpture. 1 find, indeed, that they had plundered the conquered nations of a great many works in both these kinds, but it does not appear that they themselves had produced many. From what has been said, one cannot help concluding, that traffic was the predominant inclination, and the peculiar characteristic, of the Carthaginians ; that it formed in a manner the basis of the state, the soul of the common- wealth, and the grand spring which gave motion to all their enterprises. The Carthaginians in general were skilful merchants ; employed wholly in traffic ; excited strongly by the desire of gain, and esteeming nothing but riches ; di- recting all their talents, and placing their chief glory, in amassing them, though, at the same *ime, they scarce knew the purpose for which they were designed, or how to Use them in a noble or worthy manner. SECTION VIII. fHE CHARACTER, MANNERS, AND QUALITIES OF THE CARTHAGINIANS. In the enumeration of the various qualities which Cicero* assigns to differ ent nations, as their distinguishing characteristics, he declares that of the Car- thaginians to be craft, skill, address, industry, cunning, calliditas; which doubtless appeared in war, but was still more conspicuous in the rest of their conduct ; and this was joined to another quality, that bears a very near rela- tion to it, and is still less reputable. Craft and cunning lead naturally to lying, Iwpocrisy, and breach of faith ; and these, by accustoming the mind insensi- bly to be less scrupulous with regard to the choice of the means for compass- ing its designs, prepare it for the basest frauds and the most perfidious actions. This was also one of the characteristics of the Carthaginians }\ and it was so notorious, that to signify any remarkable dishonesty ^ it was usual to call it, Punic honour^ Jides Punica ; and to denote a knavish deceitful mind, no expression was thought more proper and emphatical than this, a Carthaginian mind, Punicum ingenium. An excessive thirst for, and an immoderate love of profit, generally gave occasion, in Carthage, to the committing of base and unjust actions. A single example will prove this. In the time of a truce, granted by Scipio to the earnest entreaties of the Carthaginians, some Roman vessels, being driven by a storm on the coast of Carthage, were seized by order of the senate and peo* ple,t who could not suffer so tempting a prey to escape them. They were resolved to get money, though the manner of acquiring it were ever so scan- * Q,H»in volumus licet ipsi nos amemus, tamen nec numero Hispanos, nec. rotore Gallos, nec calliditate VflRDOB, led pietatft acreligione, tfcc. omnes genles nationes^ue superavirnus. — De Arusp. Resp. n. 19. t Carthaglnicnsis fraudulent! et mendaces — multis et varus mercatorum advenarumque sermonibut ail •tudium fallcndi quaestus cupiditate vocabantur - Cic. Or»t. ii. in Rull. n. 94. 1 Magiatntat lenatum rocare, populus in curiie vestibulo fremere, ne tanta ex eculis manibuaqiM asuat Uretur prttda. Consemum est ut, Sec. — Liv. 1. xix. n. 24. GARTHAGINlAltft. dalous. The inhabitants of Carthag^e, even in St. Austin4i time, as that father informs us, showed, on a particular occasion, that they still retained part of this characteristic* But these were not the only blemishes and faults of the Carthaginians.f They had something austere and savage in their disposition and genius, a haughty and imperious air, a sort of ferocity, which in its first starts was deaf to either reason or remonstrances, and plunged brutally into the utmost ex- C'Csses of violence. The people, cowardly and grovelling under apprehen- sions, were proud and cruel in their transports ; at the same time that they trembled under their magistrates, they were dreaded in their turn by their miserable vassals. In this we see the difference which education makes be- tween one nation and another. The Athenians, whose city was always con- sidered as the Centre of learning, were naturally jealous of their authority, and difficult to govern ; but still a fund of good nature and humanity maae them compassionate the misfortunes of others, and be indulgent to the errors of their leaders. Cleon one day desired the assembly in which he presided, to break up, because, as he told them, he had -a sacrifice to offer, and friends to entertain. The people only laughed at the request, and immediately sepa- rated. Such a liberty, says Plutarch, at Carthage, would have cost a man his life. Livy makes a like reflection with regard to Terentius Varro.J That gene ral, on his return to Rome after the battle of Cannae, which had been lost by liis ill conduct, was met by persons of all orders of the state, at some distance from Rome, and thanked by them for his not having despaired of the com- monwealth; who, says the historian, had he been a general of the Carthagi- nians, must have expected the most severe punishment :*Cm2, si Carthaginien- num ductor fuisset, nihil recusandum supplicii foret. Indeed, a court was established at Carthage, where the generals were obliged to give an account of their conduct ; and they were all made responsible for the events of the war. Ill success was punished there as a crime against the state ; and when- ever a general lost a battle, he was almost sure at his return of ending his life upon a gibbet. Such was the furious, cruel, and barbarous disposition of the Cfarthaginians, who were always ready to shed the blood of their citizens as Well as of foreigners. The unheard-of tortures, which they made Regulus luffer, are a manifest proof of this assertion ; and their history will furnish us with such instances of it, as are not to be read without horror. PART SECOND. THE HISTORY OF THE CARTHAGINIANS. 'JThe interval of time between the foundation of Carthage and its ruin, inclu- ded seven hundred years, and may be divided into two chapters. The fir?t, which is much the longest, and is least known, as is ordinary with the begin- nings of all states, extends to the first Punic war, and takes up five hundreJ and eighty-two years. The second, which ends at the destruction of Car- thage, contains but a hundred and eighteen years. * A mountebank had promised the citizens of Carthage, to discover to them their most secret thoughts, in case they would come, on a day appointed, to hear him. Being- all met, he told them they were desi- rous to buy cheap and sell dear. Every man's conscience pleaded guilty to the charge ; and the mounte- bank was dismissed with applause and laughter. — Vili vultis emere, et care vendere ; in quo dicto levi»- •imi icenici omnes tamen conscientias invenerunt suaf, eiquo vera et tamen improvisa disccnti adminbili favore plauierunt. — S. August. 1. xiii. de Trinit. c. * ♦ Pint de Gen. Rep. p. 7»»». ♦ Lib. xxiJ. n «1. 1^4 HISTORY Of THE CHAPTER I. THE FOUNDATION OF CARTHAGE, AND ITS PROGRESS TZZiI. THE TZ2MCE OF THE FIRST FUNIC WAR. Carthage, in Africa, was a colony from Tyre, the most renovvTied city at. that time for commerce in the world. Tyre had long before transplantedf an- other colony into that country, which built Utica,* made famous by the death of the second Cato, who for this reason is generally called Cato Uticensis. Authors disagree very much with regard to the era of the foundation of Carthage. t It is a difficult matter, and not very material, to reconcile them ; at least, agreeably to the plan laid down by me, it is sufficient to know, within a few years, the time in which that city was built. Carthage existed a little above seven hundred years. J It was destroyed un* der the consulate of Cn. Lentulus and L. Mummius, the 603d year of Rome, 3«59th of the world, and 145 before Christ. The foundation of it may there- fore be fixed at the year of the world 3158, when Joash was king of Judah, 98 years before the building of Rome, and 846 before our Saviour. The foundation of Carthage is ascribed to Elisa, a Tyrian princess, better known by the name of Dido.§ Ithobal, king of Tyre, and father of the fa- mous Jezebel, called in Scripture Ethbaal, was her great-grandfather. She married her near relation Acerbas, called otherwise Sicharbas and Sichaeus, an extremeJy rich prince, and Pygmalion, king of Tyre, was her brother This prince having put Sichseus to death, in order that he might have an oppor (unity of seizing his immense treasures. Dido eluded the cruel avarice of her brother, by withdrawing secretly with all her dead husband's possessions. After having long wandered, she at last landed on the coast of the Mediterra- nean, in the gulf where Utica stood, and in the country of Africa, properly so called, distant almost fifteen miles from Tunis,|| so famous, at this time, for its corsairs ; and there settled with her few followers, after having purchased some lands from the inhabitants of the country. IF Many of the neighbouring people, invited by the prospect of lucre, repaired thither to sell to these foreigners the necessaries of life, and shortly after in- corporated themselves with them. These inhabitants, who had been thus gathered from different places, soon grew very numerous. The citizens of Utica, considering them as their countrymen, and as descended from the same common stock, deputed envoys with very considerable presents, and exhorted them to build a city in the place where they had first settled. The natives of the country, from the esteem and respect frequently shown to strangers, made them the like offers. Thus all things conspiring with Dido's views, she builn her city, which was appointed to pay an annual tribute to the Africans for the * Utica et Carthago ambae inclytae, ambae a Phoenicibus conditae ; ilia fato Catonis insignis, haec suo.— Pompon. Mel, c. 67. Utica and Carthage both famous, and both built by Phosnicians ; the first renowned by Cato's fate, the last by its own. I Our countryman Howel endeavoured to reconcile the three different accounts of the foundation of Car thage in the following manner. He says, that the town consisted of three parts, viz. Cothon, or the port •od buildings adjoining to it, which he supposes to have been first built ; Megara, built next, and in respect •f Cothon called the New Town, or Karthada ; and Byrsa, or the citadel, built last of all, and probably by Dido. Cothon, to agree with Appian, was built fifty years before the taking of Troy ; Megara, to correspond with Eusfibius, was built a hundred and ninety-four years later; Byrsa, to agree' with Menandcr, cited by Josephus, was built a hundred and sixty-six years after Megara. t Liv. Epit. 1. li. 5 Justin 1. xviii. c. 4, 5, 6. App. de Bello Pun. p. I. gtrab. 1. xvii. p. 832. Paterc. 1. i c. 6. I) One hundred and twenty stadia. — Strab. 1. xiv. p. &07. Some authors say, that Dido put a trick on the natives, by desiring to purchase of them, for her ia tended settlement, only so much land as an ox's hide would encompass. The request was thought too mo derate to be denied. She then cut the hile into the smallest thongs; and with them encompassed a large tract ot ground, on which she built a citadel, called Byrsa, from the hide. But this talc of the hide is geu«- rally exploded by the learned ; who obsei-ve, that the Hebrew word Bosra, which signlfiej a fortificatioi^ f%v rite to the Greek word Byrsa, which is the name of fne citadel of Cart^:a^2. CARTHAGINIANS ground it stood upon, and called it Carthada,* or Carthage, a name that in the Phoenician and Hebrew tongues, which have a great affinity, signifies the New City. It is said that, when the foundations were dug, a h9rse's head wai found, which was thought a good omen, and a presage of the future warlike genius of that people.t This princess was afterwards courted by larbas, king of Getulia, and threat- ened with a war in case of refusal. Dido, who had bound herself by an oath not to consent to a second marriage, being incapable of violating the faith she had sworn to Sichseus, desired time for deliberation, and for appeasing the manes of her first husband by sacrifice. Having, therefore, ordered a pile to be raised, she ascended it ; and drawing out a dagger she had concealed un- der her robe, stabbed herself with it.J Vii^il has made a great alteration in this history, by supposing that -ZEneas, his hero, was contemporary with Dido, though there was an interval of neat three centuries between the one and the other : the era of the building of Carthage being fixed three hundred years later than the destruction of Troy. This liberty is very excusable in a poet, who is not tied to the scrupulous ac- curacy of a historian ; we admire, with great reason, the judgment he has shown in his plan, when, to interest the Romans for whom he wrote, he has the art of introducing the implacable hatred which subsisted between Car- thage and Rome, and ingeniously deduces the original of it from the very re- mote foundation of those two rival cities. Carthage, whose beginnings, as we have observed, were veiy weak, grew larger by insensible degrees, in the country where it was founded. But its dominion was not long confined to Africa. The inhabitants of this ambitious city extended their conquests into Europe, by invading Sardinia, seizing a great part of Sicily, and reducing almost all Spain ; and having sent pow- erful colonies every where, they enjoyed the' empire of the seas for more than six hundred years ; and formed a state which was able to dispute pre-emi- nence with the greatest em.pires of the world, by their wealth, their com- merce, their numerous armies, their formidable fleets, and above all, by the courage and ability of their captains. The dates and circumstances of many of these conquests are little known ; 1 shall take but a transient notice of them, in order to enable my readers to form some idta of the countries, which will be often mentioned in the course of this history. CONQUESTS OF THE CARTHAGINIANS IN AFRICA. The first wars made by the Carthaginians, were to free themselves frora the annua) tribute whi«h they had engaged to piy the Africans, for the terri- * Kartha Hadath, or Hadtha. \ ElTodere loco si^num, quod regia Juno Monstrarat, caput acris eqwi; nam sic fore bello Egregiam, et facilem victu per secula, gentem. Virg. Mn. 1. i. 44S. The Tyrians landing near this holy ground, And digging here, a prosperous onrven found: From under earth a courser's head they drew. Their growth and future fortune to foreshew ; This fated sign their foundress Jano gave. Of a soil fruitful, and a people brave. Dry den. 4 The story, as it is told more at large in Justin. 1. xviii. c. 6. is this.— larbas, king ©f the Maur-tanlant, •ending for ten of the principal Carthaginians, demanded Dido in marriage, threatening to declare war Rgainit h«r in case of a refusal. The ambassadors being afraid to deliver .h^ message of larbas, told her, with Punic honesty, that he wanted to have some person sent him, who was capable of civilizino- and pol- ishins: himself and his Africans ; but that there was no possibility of finding any Carthaginian, who would be willing to quit his native place and kindred, for the conversation of barbarians, who were as savage as the wildest beasts. Here the queen, with indignation, interrupting them, and asking if they were not ashamed to refuse living in any manner which might be beneficill to their country, to which they owed even their lives f they then delivered the king's message, and bade her set them a pattern, and sacrifice herself to her country's welfare. Dido being thus ensared, called on Sich»us witk tears and lamentation*, ■ad answered that she would go where the fate of her city called her. At the expiration of thr«e moBtke, •he afcended the faUl pile ; and with her last breath told the soeetatcrs, that she wm f oinr to her hm^ »aad, »• they had ordered her. imrroRY of the toiy which had been ceded to them.* This conduct does them no honour, a the settlement was granted them upon condition of their pajring a tributi One would be ipt to iniagine, that they were desirous of covering the obscu rity of their original by abolishing this proof of it. But they were not sue cessful on this occasion. The Africans had juetice on their side, and thej prospered accordingly, the war being terminated by the payment of the tribute The Carthaginians afterwards carried their arms against the Mocts and Nu- midians, and gained many conquests over both.t Being now emboldened hj these happy successes, they shook off entirely the tribute which gave them sc much uneasiness, and possessed themselves of a great part of Africa.J About this time there arose a great dis-pute between Carthage and Cyrene, on account of their respective limits. § Cyrene was a very powerful city, situ- ated on the Mediterranean, towards the greater Syrtis, and had been built by Battus the Lacedaemonian. It was agreed on each side, that two young men should set out at the same time from each city ; and that the place of their meeting should be the com- mon boundary of both states. The Carthaginians (these were two brothers named Philaeni) made the most haste ; and their antagonists, pretending thai foul play had been used, and that the two brothers above mentioned had set out before the time appointed, refused to stand to the agreement, unless the two brothers, to remove all suspicion of unfair dealing, would consent to be buried alive in the place where they had met. They acquiesced in the propo- sal, and the Carthaginians erected, on that spot, two altars to their memories, and paid them divine honours in their city, and from that time, the place was called the Altars of the Philaeni, Arae Philaenorum,|| and served as the boun- dary of the Carthaginian empire, which extended from thence to the pillars oi Hercules. CONQUESTS OF THE CARTHAGINIANS IN SARDINIA, &C. History does not inform us exactly, either of the time when the Cartha ginians entered Sardinia, or of the manner they got possession of it. Thii island was of great use to them, and during all their wars supplied them abun- dantly with provisions. H It is separated from Corsica by a strait of about three leagues over. The metropolis of the southern and most fertile part ol it, #as Caralis, or Calaris, now called Cagliari. On the arrival of the Car* thaginians, the natives withdrew to the mountains in the northern parts of the island, which are almost inaccessible, and whence the enemy could not dis- lodge them. The Carthaginians seized likewise on the Baleares, now called Majorca and Minorca. Port Magon, in the latter island, was so called from Mago, a Car- thaginian general, who first made use of, and fortified it. It is not known who this Mago was ; but it is very probable that he was flannibal's brother This harbour is, at this day, one of the most considerable in the Mediterranean. These isles furnished the Carthaginians with the most expert slingers in the world, who did them great service in battles and sieges.tt They slung large stones of above a pound weight ; and sometimes threw leaden bullets with so much violence, that they would pierce even the strongest helmets, shields, and cuirasses ; and were so dexterous in their aim, that tbey scarce ever miss- ed the mark. The inhabitants of these islands were accustomed from theif • Junti^ 1. xix. c. 1. f Justin. 1. xix. c. 2. t Afri compjlliatipendiuin urbis conditas Carthac^inienslbus remitterc. — Justin. 1. xix. e. 3. 5 Sallust. de Bello Jugurth. n. 77. Valer. Max. 1. r. c. 6. D These p{i\wn were not standing in Strabo*i time. Some geographers think Arcadia to be the eMy which was ancientlj called Philaea^rum Arae ; but others believe it was Naina or Tain, situated a littit west of Arcadia* in the gulf of Sidra. IT Slrab. 1. p. 224. Diod. 1. v. p. 296. ** Liv. 1. xxviii. n. 37. tt Diod. 1. r. n 298, and 1. xix. p. 742. Liy. loco citato, tt Liquescit excuts* rlans fundat 67. f Bochart derives the name of these islands from two Phoenician words, Baal-jare, or master in the art of slinging. This strengthens the authority of Strabo, viz.that the inhabitantBlearnt their art from the Phos^ iiicians, who were once their masters. S(p£V$ovTiTai a^taroi Kijovrai — i^6rov (polvixes xaricryfiv ras vrjcrBf. And this is still more probable, when we consiiler that both the Hebrews and Phoenicians excelled in thi» art. The Balearian slings would annoy an enemy, either near at hand, or at a distance. Every slinger carried three of them in war. One hung from the neck, a second from the waist, and a third was carried in the hand. To this give me leave to add two more observations, (foreign indeed to the present purpose, but relating to these islands,) which I hope will not be unentcrtainlng to the reader. The first is, that these islands were once so infested with rabbits, that the inhabitants applied to Rome, either for aid against them, or otherwise desired new habitations, ix€dXXf(r9at 7aj vv6 twvJ'wcov TaTWv, those creatures having ejected them out of their old ones. — Vide. Strab. Plin. 1. viii. c. 55. The second observation is, that these islanders were not only expert slingers, but likewise excellent swimmers ; which they are to this day, by the tegtimony of our countryman Biddulph, who, in his Travels, informs us, that being becalmed near th«M wlaadt, a woman swam to a'jn out of one of them, with a basket of fruit to sell. i Chtrw. 1. ii. c. 2. \ Guadalquivir. || Strab. 1. iii. p. 171. IT Ibid. p. »»— l«l> *♦ Seville. If Duero. Xt Guadiana. {5 Tair a g o o a . II BarceUna. VK Ebro. *f Uh. r, p. 3n. U10TORY OF THE were hid in the bowels of their land, first took from therrj these precious trea sures in exchange for commodities of little value. They likewise foresaw, that if they coirfd once subdue this country, it would furnish them abundantly with well disciplined troops for the conquests of other nations, as actually hap- pened. ^ The occasion of the Carthaginians first landing in Spain, was to assist the inhabitants of Cadiz, who were invaded by the Spaniards.* That city, as well as Utica and Carthage, was a colony of Tyre, and even more ancient than either of them. The Tyrians having built it, established there the wor- ship of Hercules ; and erected in his honour a magnificent temple, which be- came famous in after ages. The success of this first expedition of the Car- thaginians, made them desirous of carrying their arms into Spain. It is not exactly known in what period they entered Spain, nor how far they extended their first conquests. It is probable that these were slow in the beginning, as the Carthaginians had to do with very warlike nations, who de- fended themselves with great resolution and courage. Nor could they ever have accomplished their design, as Strabo observes,! had the Spaniards, united in a body, formed but one state, and mutually assisted one another. But as every district, every people, were entirely detached from their neighbours, and had not the least correspondence nor connexion with them, the Carthaginians were forced to subdue them one after another. This circumstance occasioned, on one hand, the loss of Spain ; but on the other, protracted the war, ana made the conquest of the country much more difficult ;J accordingly, it has been observed, that though Spain was the first province which the Romans invaded on the continent, it was the last they subdued ;§ and was not en^'rei)'' subjected to their power, till after having made a vigorous opposition for up- wards of two hundred years. It appears from the accounts given by Polybius and Livy, of the wars of Hamilcar, Asdrubal, and Hannibal in Spain, which will soon ht mentioned, that the arms of the Carthaginians had not made any considerable progies.s \i\ that country before that period, and that the greatest part of Spain was then unconquered. But in twenty years time they completed the conquest of al" most the whole country. At the time that Hannibal set out for Italy, all the coast of Africa, from the Philaenorum Arae, by the great Syrtis, to the pillars of Hercules, was subject to the Carthaginians.il Passing through the strait, they had conquered all the western coast of Spain, along the ocean, as far as the Pyrenean hills. The coast which lies on the Mediterranean had been almost wholly subdued by them ; and it was there they had built Carthagena, and they were masters oT all the country, as far as the river Iberus, which bounded their dominions. Such was at that time the extent of their empire. In the centre of the coun- try, some nations had indeed held out against all their efforts, and could not be subdued by them. CONQUESTS OF THE CARTHAGINIA^:S IN SICILY. The wars which the Carthaginians carried on in Sicily are more known. 1 shall here relate those which were waged from the reign of Xerxes, who first prompted the Carthaginians to carry their arms into Sicily, till the first Punic war. This period includes near two hundred andtw^enty years, viz, from the y ear of the world 3520 to 3738. At the breaking out of these wars, Syra cusc, the most considerable as well as most powerfiil city of Sicily, had in- Testf;d Gelon, Hiero, arid Thrasybulus, three brothel's who succeeded one * Justin. 1. xliv. c. 5. Diod. 1. v. p. 300. t Lib. iii. p. 15^ X Such a division of Britain retarded, and at the »ani3 time facilitated the conquest of it to the Romans. Dum tinguli pugnant, universi vincuntur. — Tacit. I Uisjpania prima Romanis inita Provinciarum quas qis dem contiaent's »\ni, rostrema omnium pei •tt.— Lit. 1. xxv'm, o. 13. ij Polyb. 1. iii, p 192. 1. i. p 9. CART 4 AGIN IAN' 6. ftnother, with a sovereign power. After their deathf^, a democracy, or popular government was established in that city, and subsisted above sixty years. From this time the two Dionysiuses, Timoleon and Agathocles, bore the sway in Syracuse. Pyrrhus was afterwards invited into Sicily, but he kept pos- session of it only a few years. Such was the government of Sicily during the wars of wl\ich I am about to treat. They will give us great light with regard to the pcwer of the Carthaginians at the time that they began to be engaged in war wi til the Romans. . Sicily is the largest and most considerable island in the Mediterranean. It is of a triangular tonn, and for that reason was called Trinacria and Trique- tra. The eastern side, wtiicii faces the Ionian or Grecian sea, extends from Cape Pachynum* to Pelorum.t The most celebrated cities on this coast are Syracuse, Tauromenium, andMessana. The northern coast, which looks to- wards Italy, reaches from Cape Pelorum to Cape Lilybaeum.]; The lllO.^L 111'- ted cities on this coast are Mylae, Hymera, Panormus, Eryx, Motya, Lily- baeum. The southern coast, which lies opposite to Africa, extends from Cape Lilybaeum to Pachynum. The most remarkable cities on this coast are SeJi- nus, Agrigentum, Gela, and Camarina. This island is separated from Italy by a strait, which is not more than a mile and a half over, and called the Faro, or Strait of Messina, from its contiguity to that city. The passage from Lily- baeum to Africa§ is about 1500 furlongs, that is about seventy-five leagues.il The period in which the Carthaginians first carried their arms into Sicily not exactly known.ll All we are certain of is, that they were already pos- sessed of some part of it at the time that they entered into a treaty with the- Romans ; the same year that the kings were expelled, and consuls appointed m their room, viz. twenty-eight years before Xerxes invaded Greece. This treaty, which is the first we find mentioned to have been made between these t\^5o nations, speaks of Africa and Sardinia as possessed by the Carthaginians ; whereas the conventions, with regard to Sicily, relate only to those parts of the island which were subject to them. By this treaty it is expressly sflpn lated, that neither the Romans nor their allies shall sail beyond the Fair Pro- montory,** which was very near Carthage ; and that such merchants as shall resort to this city for traffic, shall pay only certain duties, as are settled in it.tl It appears by the same treaty, that the Carthaginians were particularly careful to exclude the Romans from all the countries subject to them, as well as from the knowledge of what was transacting in them ; as though the Car- thaginians, even at that time, had taken umbrage at the rising power of tlie Romans, and already harboured in their breasts the secret seeds of jealousy and distrust, that were one day to burst out in long and cruel wars, and a mu- tual hatred and animosity, which nothing could extinguish but the ruin of one of the contending powers. Some years after the conclusion of this first treaty, the Carthaginians made an alliance with Xerxes king of Persia.JJ This prince, who aimed at nothing less than the total extirpation of the Greeks, whom he considered as his irre- concileable enemies, thought it would be impossible for him to succeed in \m enterprise without the assistance of Carthage, whose power was formidable even at that time. The Carthaginians, who always kept in view the design they entertained of seizing upon the remainder of Sicily, eagerly embraced th« favourable opportunity which now presented itself ifor completing the re- • Tz-isaro. t II Faro. X Cape Bo^o. 5 Strabo, 1. vi. p. 267. Q Th » is Strabo's calculation: but there must be a.inistake in the numera. characters, and what he Im- ■»e^5£.t«ly subjoins, is a proof of this mistake. He says, that a man, whose eve-sig-ht was g-ood, mighV from th< coast of Sicily, count the vessels that carae out of the port of Carihag-e. Is it possible thaMh* •ye cat. carry so far as 60 or 75 leagues ? This passage of Strabo, therefore, must be thus corrected. Th« passagn from Talybasum to Africa, is only 25 leagues. IT A M. 3501. A. Garth. S43. Rome, 245. Ant. J. C. 503. Polvb. 1. iii. p. 245. et seq. Edit. Gronov. The reason of this restaint, according to Polybius, was, the unwillingness of the Carthaginians to Uf tlie Komans have any knowledge of the countries which lay more to the south, in order that thii enterpriv 'm§ people might not hear of th«ir fertility — Polyb. 1. iii. p. 247. Edit. Grtwiov. tt Polyb. 1. iii. p. 24S. fi A. M 3520. Ant J. C. 484. Diod. 1. xi. p. 1, 16, ot 79 8 170 HISTORY OF TUB duction of it A treaty was therefore concluded, wherein it was agreed that the Carthaginians were to invade, with all their forces, those Greeks who were settled in Sicily and Italy, while Xerxes should march in person against Greece itself. The preparations for this war lasted three years. The land army amounted to no less than three hundred thousand men. The fleet consisted of two thc L> sand ships of war, and upwards of three thousand small vessels of burden. Hamilcar, the most experienced captain of his age, sailed from Carthage with tb's formidable army. He landed at Palermo,* and, after refreshing his troops, he marched against Hymera, a city not far distant from Palermo, and laid siege to it. Theron, who commanded in it, seeing himself very much straitened, sent to Gelon, who had possessed himself of Syracuse. He flew im- mediately to his relief with fifty thousand foot, and five thousand horse. His arrival infused new courage into the besieged, who, from that time, made a very vigorous defence. Gelon was an able warrior, and excelled in stratagems. A courier was brought to him, who had been despatched from Selinuntum, a city of Sicily, with a letter for Hamilcar, to inform him of the day when he might expect the cavaliy, which he had requested. Gelon drew out an equal number of his own troops, and sent them from his camp about the time agreed on. These being admitted into the enemy's camp, as coming from Selinuntum, rushed upon Hamilcar, killed him, and set fire to his ships. In this critical conjuncture, Gelon attacked with all his forces the Carthaginians, who at first nf/ade a gallant resistance. But when the news of their general's death was b/ought them, and they saw all their fleet in a blaze, their courage failed them, and they fled. And now a dreadful slaughter ensued ; upwards of a hundred and fifty thousand being slain. The rest of the army, having retired to a place where they were in want of every thing, could not make a long defence, and were forcea to surrender at discretion. This battle was fought on the very day of the famous action of Thermopylae, in which three hundred Spar- tans,t with the sacrifice of their lives, disputed Xerxes's entrance into Greece. When the sad news was brought to Carthage of the entire defeat of the ar- my, consternation, grief, and despair, threw the whole city into such a confu- sion and alarm as are not to be expressed. It was imagined that the enem}' was already at the gates. The Carthaginians, in great reverses of fortune, always lost their courage, and sunk into the opposite extreme. Immediately they sent a deputation to Gelon, by which they desired peace upon any terms. He heard their envoys with great humanity. The complete victory he had Rained, so far from making him haughty and untractable, had only increased his modesty and clemency even towards the enemy. He therefore granted them a peace without any other condition than their paying two thousand talentsj towards the expense of the war. He likewise required them to build winp^ year Imilcon, being appointed one of the suffetes, returned to Sicily with a tar g^reater army than before.! He landed at Palermo.!, took several cities, and recovered Motya by force of arms. Animated by these successes, he advanced towards Syracuse, with a design to besiege it ; march- ing his infantry by land, while his fleet, under the command of Mago, sailed ftlong the coast. The arrival of Imilcon threw the Syracusans into great consternation. Aotn e two hundred ships laden with the spoils of the enemy, and advancing in good order, entered in a kind of triumph the great harbour, being followed by five hundred barks. At the same time the land army, consisting, accord uig to some authors, of three hundred thousand foot,§ and three thousand horse, was seen marching forward on the other side of the city. Imilcon pitched his tei.t in the very temple of Jupiter, and the rest of the army encamped, at twelve furlongs, or about a mile and a half from the city. Marching up to it, Imilcon offered battle to the inhabitants, who did not care to accept the challenge. Imilcon, satisfied at his having extorted, from the Syracusans, this ronfessior; of their own weakness and his superiority, returned to his camp, not doubting but he should soon be master of the city, considering it already as a certain prey, which cou'd not possibly escape him. For thirty days together, he laid waste the neighbourhood about Syracuse, and ruined the whole country. He possessed himself of the suburb of Acradina, and plundered the temples of Ceres and Proserpine. To fortify his camp, he beat down the tombs which stood round the city ; and among others, that of Gelon, and his w^ife Demarata, which •was exceeding magnificent. But these successes w^et*e not lasting. All the splendour of this anticipated triumph vanished in a moment, and taught mankind, says Diodorus, that the proudest mortal, blasted sooner or later by a superior power, shall be forced to confess his own weakness. While Imilcon, now master of almost all the cities of Sicily, expected to finish his conquests by the reduction of Syracuse, a contagious distemper seized his army, and made dreadful havoc in it. 1 1 was now the midst of summer, and the heat that year was excessive. The in- fection began among the Africans, multitudes of whom died, without any pci- sibiiity of their being relieved. Care was taken at first to inter the dead ; but the number increased daily, and the infection spreading very fast, the dead lay unburied, and the sick could have no assistance. This plague was attended with very uncommon symptoms, such as violent dysenteries, raging fevers, burning entrails, acute pains in every part of the body. ^ The infected wer^ even seized with madness and fury, so that they would fall upon any person that came in their way, and tear them to pieces. Dionysius did not lose this favourable opportunity for attackhig the enemy. Innilcon's army, being more than half conquered by the plague, could make but a fpeble resistance. The Carthaginian ships were almost all either taken or burnt. The inhabitants in general of Syracuse, their old men, women, and children, came pouring out of the city, to behold an event, which to them ap- ♦ Th« curious reader « 'il nnd a rery particular Recount of it in a »ubsequent part of this work. ^ Diod. 1. xiv. p. '279 — 2^5. Justin. 1. xix. c. 2, 3- ± Pane m-r us. ^ Some authors say but thirty ihousonrl foot, which is the more probsbk account, ai the fleat which llockcd up th« town by sea was so forinir^riL e CAKTHAGiNlAJ^S. 174 peared miraculous. With hands lifted up to heaven, they thanked the tutelar gods of their city, for having revenged the sanctity of temples and tombs, which had been so brutally violated by these barbarians. Night coming on, both parties retired, when Imilcon, taking the opportunity of this short suspen- sion of hostilities, sent to Dionysius, fo" leave to carry back with him the small remains of his shattered army, with an offer of three hundred talents,* which was all the specie he had then left. Permission only could be obtained for the Caithaginians, with whom Imilcon stole away in the night, and left the rest to the mercy of the conqueror. In such unhappy circumstances did the Carthaginian general, who a few days before had been so proud and haughty, retire from Syracuse. Bitterly bewailing his own fate, but most of all that of his country, he with the most insolent Tury, accused the gods as the sole authors of his misfortunes. The enemy," continued he, " may indeed rejoice at our misery, but have no rea- son to glory in it. We return victorious over the Syracusans, and are defeat- ed by the plague alone. No part," added he, of the disaster touches me so much as my surviving so many gallant men, and being reserved, not for the comforts ol life, but to be the sport of so dire a calamity ; however, since I brought back the miserable remams of an army which have l3een committed to my care, I now have nothing to do, but to follow the brave soldiers who lie dead before Syracuse, and show my country, that I did not survive them out of a fondness of life, but merely to preserve the troops which had escaped the plague from the fury of the enemy, to which my more early death would have abandoned them." Being now arrived in Carthage, which he found overwhelmed with grief and despair, he entered his house, shut his doors against the citizens, and even his own children ; and then gave himself the fatal stroke, in compliance with a practice to which the heathens falsely gave the name of courage, though it was, in reality, no other than cowardly despair. But the calamities of this unhappy city did not stop here ; for the Africans, who, from time immemorial, had borne an implacable hatred to the Cartha- ginians, being now exasperated to fury, because their countrymen had been left behind, and exposed to the murdering sword of the Syracusans, assemble in the most frantic manner, sound the alarm, take up arms, and, after seizing upon Tunis, march directly to Carthage, to the number of more than two hun- dred thousand men. The citizens now gave themselves up for lost. This new mcident wa« considered by them as the sad effect of the wrath of the gods, which pursued ihe guilty wretches even to Carthage. As its inhabitants, especially in all public calamilie^^, carried their superstition to the greatest ex cess, their first care was to appease ine otfended gods. Ceres and Prosei- pine were deities, who, till that time, had never been heard of in Africa. But now, to atone for the outrage which had been done them, in the plundering of their temples, magnificent statues were erected to their honour; prieHi TTf.re selected from among the most distinguished families of the city; sacri- ti jes and victims, according to the Greek ritual, if I may use the expression, were offered up to them ; in a word, nothing was omitted which could be thoughi conducive in any manner, to appease those angry goddesses, and to merit their favour. After this, the defence of the city was the next object of their care. Happily for the Carthaginians, this numerous army had no leader, but \vas like a body uninformed with a soul ; no provisions or military engines ; no discipline or subordination were seen among theni, eveiy man setting him- self up for a general, or claiming an independence from the rest. Divisions, therefore, arising in this rabble of an army, and the famine increasing daily, the individuals of it withdrew to their respective homes, and delivered Car- thage from a dreadful alarm. I lip Carthaginians were not discouraged by their late disaster, but continued •Jieir enterprises on Sicily. Mago, their general, and one of the suftetes, lost 176 HISTORY OP THE a great battle in which he was slain. The Carthaginian chiefs demanded a peace, which was granted, on condition of their evacuating all Sicily, and de« iraying the expenses of the war. They pretended to accept the terms ; but representing th^t it was not in their power to deliver up the cities, without first obtaining an order from their republic, they obtained so 1 /ng a truce, as gave them time sufficient for sending to Carthar^e. They took advantage of this interval, to raise and discipline new troops, over which Mago, son of him who had been lately killed, was appointed general. He was very young, but of great abilities and reputat.'on. As soon as he arri\ed in Sicily, at the ex- piration of the truce, he gave Dionysius battle ; in which Leptinus,* one of tne generals of the latter, was killed, and upwards of fourteen thousand Sy- racusans left dead on the field. By this victory the Carthaginians obtained an honourable peace, which left them in possession of all they had in Sicily, and even the addition of some strong holds, besides a thousand talents,! which were paid to them for defraying the expenses of the war. About this time a law was enacted at Carthage, by which its inhabitants were forbid to learn to write or speak the Greek language ; in order to deprive them of the means of corresponding with the enemy, either by word of mouth or in writing. J This was occasioned by the treachery of a Carthaginian, who had written in Greek to Dionysius, to give him advice of the departure of the army from Carthage. Carthage had soon after another calamity to struggle with.§ The plague spread in the city, and made terrible havoc. Panic terrors, and violent fits of frenzy, seized on a sudden the heads of the distempered ; who, sallying sword in hand out of their houses, as if the enemy had taken the city, killed or vv^ounded all who unhappily came in their way. The Africans and Sardi- nians would very willingly have taken this opportunity to shake off a yoke which was so hateful to them ; but both were subjected, and reduced to their allegiance. Dionysius formed at this tim^e an enterprise in Sicily, with the same views, which was equally unsuccessful.il He died, some time after, and was succeeded by his son of the same name. We have already taken notice of the first treaty which the Carthaginians concluded with the Romans. There was another, which, according to Oro- sius, was concluded in the 402d year of the foundation of Rome, and conse- quently about the time we are now speaking of. This second treaty was near- ly the same with the first, except that the inhabitants of Tyre and Utica w^ere expressly comprehended in it, and joined with the Carthaginians. After the death of the elder Dionysius, Syracuse was involved in great troubles. IF Dionysius the younger, whohadbeen expelled, restored himself by force of arms, and exercised great cruelties there. One part of the citizens implored the aid of Icetes, tyrant of the Leontines, and by descent a Syracusan. This seemed a very favourable opportunity for the Carthaginians to seize upon all Sicilj^, and ac- cordingly they sent a mighty fleet thither. In this extremity, such of the Syra- cusans as loved their counify best, had recourse to the Corinthians, who often as- sisted them in their dangers, and were, of all the Grecian nations, the most pro- fessed enemies to tyranny, and the most avowed and most generous assertorsof liberty. Accordingly the Corinthians sent over Timoleon, a man of great merit, asfid who had signalized his zeal for the public welfare, by freeing his countiy * Thig Leptinus waa brother to Dionysius. t About $914,640. I Justin. 1. XX. c. 5. J Dlod. 1. xv. p. 344. 1} This is the Dionysius who invitf.d Plato to his court ; and who, being afterwards offended with nil freedom, sold him for a slare. Some philosophers came from G reece to Syracuse, in ordei to redeem thcil trother, which having- done, they sent him home with this useful lesson — that philosophers ought very rarely or very obligingly to converse with tyrants. This prince had learning, and affected to pass for a poet •, but cccild not gain that name at the Olympic games, whither he had sent his verses, to be repeated by his brother Thearides. It had been happy for Dionysius, had the Athenians entertained no b*itter la opinion of his poetry ; for on their pronouncing him victor, when his poems were repeated in their citr* h« was raised to such a transport of joy and intemperance, that both together killed him; and thus, perhaps, waa verified the prediction of the oracle, viz. that he should die when he had overcome jis betters. IT A.. M. 3656. A. Carth. 408. A. Rome, 400. Ant J. C. 348. Diod. 1. xvi. p. 252. Polyh \. iu, 9< i^WI. riiit. inTimel. CARTHAGINIANS. 177 from tyranny, at the expense of his own family. He set sail with only ten ships, and arriving at Rhegium, he eluded, by a nappy stratagem, the vigil anc«5 of the Carthaginians; who, having been informed, by Icetes, of his voyage and design, wanted to intercept him in his passage to Sicily. Timoleqn had scarce above a thousand soldiers under his command ; and yet, with this handful of men, he marched boldly to the relief Syracuse. His small army increased in proportion as he advanced. The Syrac».sans were now in a desperate condition, and quite hopeless. They saw the Car- thaginians masters of the port ; Icetes of the city, and Dionysius of the cita- del. Happily, on Timoleon's arrival, Dionysius having no refuge left, put the citadel into his hands, with all the forces, arms, and ammunition in it, and es- caped by his assistance to Corinth.* Timoleon had, by his emissaries, art- fully represented to the foreign forces in Mago's army, (which, by an error in the constitution of Carthage, before taken notice of, was chiefly composeii of •uch, and even the greatest part of whom were Greeks,) that it was astonish-* ing to see Greeks using their endeavours to make barbarians masters of Sicily, from whence they, in a very little time, would pass over into Greece. For, could they imagine, that the Carthaginians were come so far, with no other view than to establish Icetes tyrant of Syracuse ? Such discourses being spread among Mago's soldiers, gave this general very great uneasiness : and, as he wanted only a pretence to retire, he was glad to have it believed that his forces were going to betray and desert him, and upon this he sailed with his fleet out of the harbour, and steered for Carthage. Icetes, after his de- parture, could not hold out long against the Corinthians ; so that they now got entire possession of the whole city. Mago, on his arrival at Carthage, was impeached ; but he prevented the ex- ecution of the sentence passed upon him, by a voluntary death. His bodj' was hung upon a gallows, and exposed as a public spectacle to the people. New forces, were levied at Carthage, and a greater and more powerful fleet than the former was sent to Sicily. t It consisted of two hundred ships of war, besides a thousand transports ; and the army amounted to upwards of seventy thousand men. They landed at Lilybaeum, under the command of Hamilcar and Hannibal, and resolved to attack the Corinthians first. Timoleon did not wait for, but marched out to meet them. But, such was the consternation of Syracuse, that of all the forces which were in that city, only three thousand Syracusans, and four thousand mercenaries, followed him ; and a thousand of the latter deserted upon the march, through fear of the danger they were go ing to encounter. Timoleon, however, was, not discouraged, but exhorting the remainder of his forces to exert themselves courageously for the safety and liberties of Ineir allies, he led them against the enemy, Avhose rendezvous he had been informed was on the banks of the little river Crimisa. It appear- ed at the first reflection inexcusable folly to attack an army so numerous as that of the enemy, with only tour or five thousand foot, and a thousand horse ; but Timoleon, who knew that bravery, conducted by prudence, is superior to num.bers, relied on the courage of his soldiers, who seemed resolved to i^'ie rather than yield, and with ardour demanded to be led against the enemy. The event justified his views and hopes. A battle was fought ; the Cartha- ginians were routed, and upwards of ten thousand of them skin, full three thousand of whom were Carthaginian citizens, which filled their city with mourning and the greatest consternation. Their camp was taken, and with it immense riches, and a great number of prisoners. ♦ Here he preserred some resemblance of his former tyranny, by turning schoolmaster, and exercisirg a discipline over boys, when he could no longer tyrannise overmen. He had learning, and was oncf a •ckolar to Plato, whom he caused to come again into Sicily, notwithstanding the unworthy treatment ha limii met with from Dionysius' father. Philip king of Macedon, meeting him in the streets at CorL^th, and asking him how he came to lose so considerable a principality as had been left him by his father; h« •mwered, that his father had indeed left him the inheritance, but not the fortune which had prcwrretf ^th himself and that. — However, fortuna did him no g^reat injury, in r*splacing him on the dunifhill, fv«i» which ih« had ratted bis father. t Fki p. HAS — 230. Vol.. I 178 HISTORY OP THE Timoleon * at the same time that he despatched the news of this ricloiy lo : Corinth, sent thither the finest arms found among the plunder. For he was pas- sionately desirous of ha> ing this city applauded and admired by all men, when they should see that Corinth alone, among all the Grecian cities, adorn- ed its finest temples, not with the spoils of Greece, and offerings died in the blood of its citizens, the sight of which could tend only to preserve the fad remembrance of their losses ; but with those of barbarians, which by fine in- scriptions, displayed at once the courage and religious gratitude of those who had won them. For these inscriptions imported. That the Corinthians^ and Timoleon their general^ after having freed the Greeks^ settled in Sicily, from tht Carthaginian yoke^ had hung up these arms in their temples y as an eternal ac- knowledgment of the favour and goodness of the gods. After this, Timoleon, leaving the mercenary troops in the Carthaginian ter- litories, to waste and destroy them, returned to Syracuse. On his arrival there, he banished the thousand soldiers who had deserted him ; and took no other revenge, than commanding them to leave Syracuse before sunset. This victory gained by the Corinthians, was followed by the capture of many cities, which obliged the Carthaginians to sue for peace. In proportion as the appearance of success made the Carthaginians vigorous- ly exert themselves to raise powerful armies both by land and sea, and pros- perity led them to make an insolent and cruel use of victoiy ; so their courage would sink in unforeseen adversities, their hopes of new resources vanish, and their grovelling souls condescend to ask quarter of the most inconsiderable enemy, and without sense of shame, accept the hardest and most mortifying conditions. Those now imposed were, that they should possess only the lands lying beyond the river Halycus ;t that they should give all the natives liberty to retire to Syracuse with their families and effects ; and that they shoula neither continue in the alliance, nor hold any correspondence with the tyrants of that city. About this time, in all probability, there happened at Carthage a memora- ble incident, related by Justin.J Hanno, one of its most powerful citizens, formed a design of seizing upon the republic, by destroying the whole senate. He chose, for the execution of this bloody plan, the day on which his daugh- ter was to be married, on which occasion he designed to invite the senators to an entertainment, and there poison them all. The conspiracy was discov- ered, but Hanno had such influence, that the government did not dare to pun- ish so execrable a crime : the magistrates contented themselves with only pre- venting it, by an order, which forbade, in general, too great a magnificence at weddings, and limited the expense on those occasions. Hanno, seeing his stratagem defeated, resolved to employ open force, and for tnat purpose ann- ed all the slaves. However, he was again discovered ; and, to escape pun- ishment, retired, with twenty thousand armed slaves, to a castle that was very strongly fortified ; and there endeavoured, but without success, to engage in his rebellion the Africans, and the king of Mauritania. He afterwards was ta!:en prisoner, and carried to Carthage, where, after being whipped, his eyes were put out, his arms and thighs broken, he was put to death in presence of the people, and his body, all torn with stripes, was hung on a gibbet. Hjs children, and all his relations, though they had not joined in his guilt, shared in his punishment. They w^ere all sentenced to die, in order that not a single person of his family might be left, either to imitate his crime or revenge his death. Such was the temper of the Carthaginians ; ever severe and violent in their punishments, they carried them to the extremes of rigour, and made them extend even to the innocent, without showing the least regard to ecjuity, moderation, or gratitude. * Plut. 248—250. t This river is aot far from Ag rigentum. It is called Lycus brDiodomu aod P'uUrch, but thu»tli««cfci X Justin, lib. xsi. e. 4» CARTHAGINIAIW. 179 f now come to the wars sustained by the Carthaginians in Africa itaelf, ai well as in Sicily, against Agathocles, which exercised their arms during seve- ralyears.* This Agathocles was a Sicilian, of obscure birth and low fortune.! Sup- ported at first by the forces of the Carthaginians, he had invaded the sove- reignty of Syracuse, and made himself tyrant over it. In the infancy of his power, the Carthaginians kept him within bounds, and Hamilcar, their chiefs forced him to agree to a peace, which restored tranquillity to Sicily. But he goon infringed the articles of it, and declared war against the CarthaginiatK themselves, who, under the conduct of Hamilcar, obtained a signal victory over him,J and forced him to shut himself up in Syracuse. The Carthagi- nians pursued him. thither, and laid siege to that important city, the capture of which would have given them possession of all Sicily. Agathocles, whose forces were greatly inferior to theirs, and who saw him- 6elf deserted by all his allies, from their detestation of his horrid cruelties, meditated a design of so daring, and, to all appearance, of so impracticable a nature, that even after success, it yet appears almost incredible. This de- sign was no less than to make Africa the seat of war, and to besiege Carthage, at a time when he could neither defend himself in Sicily, nor sustain the siege of Syracuse. His profound secrecy in the execution is as astonishing as the de sign itself. He communicated his thoughts on this affair to no person whatso- ever, but contented himself with declaring, that he had found out an infallible way to free the Syracusans from the dangers that surrounded them ; that they had only to endure with patience, for a short time, the inconveniences of a siege ; lout that those who could not bring themselves to this resolution, might freely depart the city. Only sixteen hundred persons quitted it. He left his brother Antander there with forces and provisions sufficient for him to make a stout defence. He set at liberty all slaves who were of age to bear arms, and, after obliging them to take an oath, joined them to his forces. He carried with him only fifty talents § to supply his present wants ; well assured that he should find in the enemy's country, whatever was necessary to his subsistence. He therefore set sail with two of his sons, Archagathus and Heraclides. with- out letting any one person know whither he intended his course. All who were on board his fleet believed that they were to be conducted either to Italy or Sardinia, in order to plunder those countries, or to lay waste those coasts of Sicily which belonged to the enemy. The Carthaginians, surprised at so unexpected a departure, endeavoured to prevent it ; but Agathocles eluded their pursuit, and made for the main ocean. He did not discover his design till he had landed in Africa. There assem- bling his troops, he told them, in few words, the motives which had prompted him to this expedition. He represented, that the only way to free their coun- try, was to carry the war into the territories of their enemies : that he led them, who were inured to war and of intrepid dispositions, against a parcel of ene- mies who Avere softened and enervated by ease and luxury : that the natives of the country, oppressed with the yoke of servitude, equally cruel and igno- minious, would run in crowds to join them on the first news of their arrival : that the boldness of their attempt would alone disconcert the Carthaginians, who had no expectation of seeii^ an enemy at their gates : in short, that no * A. M. 3685. A. Carth. 527. A. Rome, 429. Ant. J. C. 319. Diod. 1. xix. p. 651— 6i^. 710—712. 737—743. 760. Justin. 1. ii. c. 1—6. t He was, according to- most historians, the son of a potter, but all allow him to hare worked at the trade. From the obscurity of his birth and condition, Polybius uses an argument to prove his capacity and talent*, In opposition to the slanders of Timasus. But his greatest eulogium was the praise of Scipio. That illiji»- nous Roman being asked, who, in his opinion, were the most prudent in the conduct of their aflain, ajMi ■>st judiciously bold in the execution of their designs; answered, Agathocles and Dionysius. Polyb. 1. »», ]j^l003. Edit. Gronov. However, let his capacity have been ever so great, it was exceeded bj X The battle was fought rear the river and city of Hymen. J 50,000 French crowns, or |55,OOa riliSTUKY OF THfc enterprise could possibly be moi* ^drantageous or honourable than this, since the whole wealth of Carthage would become the prey of the victors, whose courage would be praised and admired by the latest posterity. The soldiers fancied themselves already masters of Carthage, and received his spec ch with applause and acclamations. One circumstance alone gave them uneasiness, and that was, an eclipse of the sun happening just a.s they were setting sail. In these ages, even the most civilized nations understood very little the reason of these^extraordinary phenomena of nature ; and used to draw from them, (by their soothsayers,) superstitious and arbitrary conjectures, which frequently would either suspend or hasten the most important enterprises. However, Agathocles revived the drooping courage of his soldiers, by assuring them that fhese eclipses always foretold some instant change: that, therefore, good for- tune was taking its leave of Carthage, and coming over to them. Finding his soldiers in the good disposition he Vvished them, he executed, almost at the same time, a second enterprise, which was even more daring and hazardous than his first, of carrying them over into Africa ; and this w^as, the burning every ship in his fleet. Many reasons determined him to so desperate an action. He had not one good harbour in Africa where his ships could lie in safety. As the Carthaginians were masters of the sea, they would not have failed to possess themselves immediately of his fleet, which was incapable of making the least resistance. In case he had left as many hands as were neces- sary to defend it, he would have weakened his army, which was inconsiderable at the best, and put it out of his power to gain any advantage by this unex- pected diversion, the success of which depended entirely on the swiftness and vigour of the execution. Lastly, he was desirous of putting his soldiers under a necessity of conquering, by leaving them no other refuge than victory Much courage was necessary to adopt such a resolution. He had already pre- pared all his officers, who were entirely devoted to his service, and received every impression he gave them. He then came suddenly into the assembly, with a crown upon his head, dressed in a magnificent habit, and, with the air and behaviour of a man who was going to perform some religious ceremony, and addressing himself to the assembly, " When we," says he, " left Syracuse, and were warmly pursued by the enemy, m this fatal necessity, I aadressed myself to Ceres and Proserpine, the tutelar divinities of Sicily ; and promised, that if they would free us from this imminent danger, I would burn all our ships in their honour, at our first landing here. Aid me, therefore, O soldiers, to dischai^e my vow ; for the goddesses can easily make us amends for this sacrifice." At the same time, taking a flambeau in his hand, he hastily led hhe way on board his own ship, and set it on fire. All the officers did the like, and were cheerfully followed by the soldiers. The trum.pets sounded from every quarter, and the whole army echoed with joyful shouts and acclama- tions. The fleet was soon consumed. The soldiers had not been allowed time to reflect on the proposal made to them. They had all been hurried on by a Hind and impetuous ardour : but when they had a little recovered their reason^ and, surveying in their minds the vast extent of ocean which separated them from their own country, saw themselves in tnat of the enemy, without (he least resource, or any means of escaping out of it, a sad and melancholy silence succeeded the transport of joy and acclamations, which, but a moment before, had been so general in the army. Here again Agathocles left no time for reflection. He marched his army towards a place called the Great City, which was part of the domain of Car- thage. The country through which they marched to this place afforded the most delicious and agreeable prospect in the world. On each side were seen large meads watered by beautiful streams, and covered with innumerable flocks of all kinds of cattle ; country seats built with extraordinary magnificence ; delightful avenues planted with olire and all sorts of fruit-trees ; wardens of a prodigious extent, and kept with a cam ^nd elegance which delighted the eye. Thi« liDnnnftct reanimated the soldiers^ They marched full of courage to the Gmd CARTIIACINlAi^B. 181 City, which they took, sword in hand, and enriched ^hen^selves with the plun- der of it, which was entirely abandoned to them. Tunis, which was not f^r distant from Carthage, made as little resistance. The Carthaginians were in prodigious alarm, when it was known that the enemy was in the country, advancing by hasty marches. This arrival of Aga- thocles made the Carthaginians conclude, that their army before Syracuse had been defeated, and their fleet lost. The people ran in disorder to ihe great square of the city, while the senate assembled in haste, and in a tumultuous manner. Immediately they deliberated on the means for preserving the city They had no army in readiness to oppose the enemy, and their imminent dan- ger did not permit them to wait the arrival of those forces which might be raised in the countrj?-, and among the allies. It was therefore resolved, after several different opinions had been heard, to arm the citizens. The number of the forces thus levied amounted to forty thousand foot, a thousand horse, and two thousnnd armed chariots. Hanno and Bomilcar, though divided be- tween themselves by some family quarrels, were, however, joined in the com- mand of these troops. They marched immediately to meet the enemy, and on sight of them, drew up their forces in order of battle. Agathocles had, at most," but thirteen or fourteen thousand men.* The signal was given, and an obstinate fight ensued. Hanno, with his sacred cohort, the flower of the Car- thaginian forces, long sustained the fury of the Greeks, and sometimes even broke their ranks ; but at last, overwnelmed with a shower of stones, and covered with wounds, he fell dead on the field. Bomilcar might have changed the face of things, but he had private and personal reasons not to obtain a vic- toiy for his country. He therefore thought proper to retire with the forces under his command, and was followed by the whole army, which by that means was forced to leave the field to Agathocles. After pursuing the enemy some time, he returned and plundered the Carthaginian camp. Twenty thousand pair of manacles were found in it, with which the Carthaginians bad furnished themselves, in the firm persuasion of their taking many prisoners. The result of this victory was the capture of a great number of strong-holds, and the de- fection of many of the natives of the countiy, who joined the victor. This descent of Agathocles into Africa, doubtless gave birth to Scipio's de- sign of making a like attempt upon the same republic, and from the same place.t Wherefore, in his answer to Fabius, who ascribed to temerity his design of making Africa the seat of the war, he forgot not to mention the ex- ample of Agathocles, as an instance in favour of his enterprise, and to show, that frequently there is no other way to get rid of an enemy, who presses too closely upon us, than by carrying the war into his own country ; and that men are much more courageous when they act upon the offensive, than when they stand only upon the defensive. While the Carthaginians were thus warmly attac':ed by their enemies, am- bassadors came to them from Tyre. J They came to implore their succour against Alexander the Great, who was upon the point of taking their city, which he had long besieged. The extremity to which their countrymen, for •o they called them, were reduced, touched the Carthaginians as sensibly as their ovm danger. Though they were unable to relieve them, they at least fiiought it their duty to comfort them ; and deputed thirty of their principal Eitizens^ to express their grief that they could not spare them any troops, be- cause ci the present melancholy situation of their own afiairs. 1 he Tyri^ns, though disappointed of the only hope they had left, did not however despond. 1 ]?ey committed their v^ives, children,§ and '^Id men, to the care; of those deputtV? ; and, being delivered from all inquietude with regard to persons who ♦ -Ag-filhocles, wanting' arms for many of his soldiers, provided them with such as were counterfeit, whick ksoked well at a distance. And perceiving' the discouragement his forces were under on sight of the «t»- ■v*» horse, he let fly a great manv owls, privately procured for that purpose, which his soldien iiiter|H«% M ac aa c-men and assurance of victory. — Died, ad Ann. 3 Olymp. p. 117. t Lir. 1. xxviii. n. 43. J Diod. 1. xvii. p. 519. Q,uint C >*t. 1. ir. c. S i Tu)V T|>iv->D« Vitft Beata, c. 19. i D'iod. p. 7T7— 779. 791—802. Justin. 1. xxii. c. 7. 8. 184 HISTORY OF T1I£ and he could not hope f^r either peace or treaty with the barbarians, since he »iad insulted them in so outrageous a mariner, by his being the first who had dared to naake a descent on their country. In this extremity, he thought only jf providing for his own safety. After many adventures, this base deserter of his army, and perfidious betray- er of his own children, who were left by him to the wild fui-y of his disap- pointed soldiers, stole away from the dangers w^hich threatened him, and arrived at Syracuse with very few followers. His soldiers, seeing themselves thus betrayed, murdered his sons, and surrendered to the enemy. Himself died miserably soon after, and ended, by a cruel death, * a life that had been pol- luted with the blackest crimes. In this period may be placed another incident related by Justin.j The fame of Alexander's conquests made the Carthaginians fear that he might think of turning his arms towards Africa. The disastrous fate of Tyre, whence they drew their origin, and which he had so lately destroyed ; the building of Alexandria upon the confines of Africa and Egypt, as if he intended it as a rival city to Carthage ; the uninterrupted successes of that prince, whose ambition and good fortune were boundless ; all this justly alarmed the Carthaginians. To sound his inclinations, Hamil- car, surnamed Rhodanus, pretending to have been driven fr'.»m his country by the cabals of his enemies, went over to the camp of Alexander, to whom he was in- troduced by Parmenio, and offered him his services. The king received him graciously, and had several conferences with him. Hamilcar did not fail to transmit to his country whatever discoveries he made from time to time of Alexander's designs. Nevertheless, on his return to Carthage, after Alexan- der's death, he was considered as a betrayer of his country to that prince, and accordingly was put to death by a sentence, which displayed equally the in- gratitude and cruelty of his countrymen. I am now to speak of the wars oi the Carthaginians in Sicily, in the time of Pyrrhus, king of Epirus. The Romans, to whom the designs of ihat ambi- tious prince were not unknow^n, to strengthen themselves against any attempts he might make upon Italy, had renew^ed their treaties with the Carthaginians, who, on their side, were no less afraid of his crossing into Sicily. To the ar. tides of the preceding treaties, there was added an engagement of mutual assistance, in case either of the contracting powers should be attacked by Pyrrhus. J The foresight of the Romans was well founded : Pyrrhus turned his arms against Italy, and gained many victories. The Carthaginians, in consequence of the last treaty, thgught themselves obliged to assist the Romans, and ac- cordingly sent tnem a fleet of six-score sail, under the command of Mago. This general, in an audience before the senate, signified to them the concern his superiors took in the war w^hich they heard was carrying on against the Romans, and offered them their .assistance. The senate returned thanks for the obliging offer of the Carthaginians, but at present thought fit to decline it § Mago, som.e days after, repaired to Pyrrhus, upon pretence of offering the mediation of Carthage for terminating his quarrel with the Romans, but in re- ality to sound him, and discover, if possible, his designs with regard to Sicily, which common fame reported he was going to invade. || The Carthaginians w^eie afraid that either Pyrrhus or the Romans would interfere in the affairs of that island, and transport forces thither for the conquest of it. And indeed the Syracusans, who had been besieged for some time by the Carthaginians, had sent pressingly for succour to Pyrrhus This prince had a particular * He was poisoned by one Mjenon, whom he had unnaturally abused. His teeth were putrefied by th<» violence of the poison, and his body tortured all over vrith the most racking pains. Ma?non wcs exciterf to this deed by Archngathns, grandson of Ag-athocles. whom ho desig-ned to defeat of the succeiS'on, i« farour of his other son Agathocles. Before his death, he res hiteiy necessary. Nor was it less so in Sicily, which, on his departure, re turned to the obedience of its former masters. Thus he lost this island with the same rapidity that he had won it. As he was embarking, turning his eyes back to Sicily. What a Jine field of battUj* said he to those about him, do we leave the Carthaginians and Romans !\ His prediction was soon veriiied. After his departure, the chief magistracy of Syracuse was conferred on I Iiero, who afterwards obtained the name and dignity of king, by the united sutfrages of the citizens, so greatly had his government pleased. He was ap- pointed to carry on the war against the Carthaginians, and obtained several advantages'over them. But now a common interest reunited them against a new enemy, who began to appear in Sicily, and justly alarmed both; these were the Romans, who having crushed all the enemies who had hitherto exer- cised their arms in Italy itself, were now powerful enough to carry them out of it ; and to lay the foundation of that vast power there, to which they after- wards attained, and of which it was probable they had even then formed the design. Sicily lay too commodious for them, not to form a resolution of es- tablishir^ themselves in it. They therefore eagerly snatched this opportunity tor crossing into it, which caused the rupture between them and the Carthagi- nians, and gave rise to the first Punic war. This I shall treat of more at large by relating the causes of that war. CHAPTER IL THIS HISTORY OF CAHTHAGXS, FROM THE FIRST PUNIC WAR TO ITS DSSTRUCTION. The plan which I have laid down, does not allow me to enter into an exact detail of the wars between Rome and Carthage, since that relates rather to the Roman history, which I shall only transiently and occasionally touch upon. My business is to relate such facts only as may give the reader a just idea of the republic, whose history lies before me ; by confining myself to those pc*r- ticulars which relate chiefly to the Carthaginians, such as their transactions in Sicily, Spain, and Africa, which are sufficiently extensive. I have already observed, that from the first Punic war to the ruin of Car thage, a hundred and eighteen years elapsed. This whole time may be divi ded into five parts or intervals. I. The first Punic war lasted twenty-four years. 24 II. The interval between the first and second Punic war is also twen- ) ty-four years. \ III. The second Punic w^ar took up seventeen years. ' 17 IV. The interval between the second and third, is forty nine rears. 4f V, The th/rd Punic war, terminated by the destruction of Carthage, I con* !nued but four years and some months. 2 / 118 * Plut. in P_yrrh. p. 398. t Oiav &iTo\2{iro]Xiv u (ipikouKao%r,'6o\"o\s xai *Pco/iai'oiJ TraXaftrr^av* The Greek expression is bean- |fu\ Indeed Sicily ^ras a kind of Palfsstra. where the Carthajrinians and Romans exercised theniselvei n war ind for many years seemed to play the part of wrestlers with each othtr. Th* English laiijfuafr* M well as the Freoch. bai no word to express the Greclr 186 HJS1\)HY CdF THK ARTICLE I — THE FIRST PUNIC WAR. The first Punic war arose fi-om the following cause. Some Campanian sol diers in the service of Agathocles, the Sicilian tyrant, having entered a« friends into Messina, they soon after murdered part of the townsmen, drove out the rest, married their wives, seized their effects, and remained sole mas ters of that important city.* They then assumed the name of Mamertincft^ In imitation of them, and by their assistance, a Reman legion treated in the same cruel manner the city of Rhegium, lying directly opposite to Messina, on the other side of the strait. These two perfidious cities, supporting one another, became at last formidable to their neighbours ; and especially Mes- sina, which, being very powerful, gave great jmbrage and uneasiness both to the Syracusans and Carthaginians, who possessed one part of Sicily. After the Romans had got rid of the enemies they had so long contended with, and particularly of Pyrrhus, they began to think it time to call their citizens to account, who had settled themselves, near two years, at Rhegium, in so cruel and treacherous a manner. Accordingly they took the city, and killed, in the attack, the greatest part of the inhabitants, who, armed with despair, Had fought to the last gasp : three hundred only were left, who w^ere carried to Rome, wliij'ped, and then publicly beheaded in the forum. The view which the Romans had in making this bloody execution, was, to prove to their al- lies their own sincerity and innocence. Rhegium was immediately restored to its lawful possessors. The Mamertines, who were considerably weakened, as well by the ruin of their confederate city, as by the losses sustained from the Syracusans, w^io had lately placed Hiero at their head, thought it time to provide for their own safety. But divisions arising among them, one part sur- rendered the citadel to the Carthaginians, while the other called in the Ro- mans to their assistance, and resolved to put them in possession of their city. The affair was debated in the Ronian senate, where, being considered in all its lights, it appeared to have some difficulties.! On one hand, it was thought base, and altogether unworthy of the Roman virtue, for them to un- dertake openly the defence of traitors, whose perfidy was exactly the same with that of the Rhegians, whom the Romans had recently punisho i with so exemplaiy a severity. On the other hand, it was of the utmost consequence to stop the progress of the Carthaginians, who, not satisfied with their con- quests in Africa and Spain, had also made themselves masters of almost all the islands of the Sardinian and Hetrurian seas ; and would certamly get al'. Sicily into their hands, if they should be suffered to possess themselves ot Messina. From thence into Italy the passage was very short ; and it was in some manner to invite an enemy to come over, to leave the entrance open. These reasons, though so strong, could not prevail with the senate to declare In favour of the Mamertines ; and accordingly, motives of honour and justice prevailed over those of interest and policy. But the people were not so scru- pulous ; for, in an assembly held on this subject, it was resolved that the Ma- mertines should be assisted.^ The consul Appius Claudius immediately set forward with his army, and boldly crossed the strait, after he had, by an in- genious stratagem, eluded the vigilance of the Carthaginian general. Thf, Carthaginians, partly by art and paitly by force, were driven out of the cita- del ; and the city w^as surrendered immediately to the consul. The Cartha- ginians hanged their general, for having given up the citadel in so cowardly a manner, and prepared to besiege the town with all their forces. Hiero joined them with his own. But the consul having defeated them separately, raised the siege, and laid waste at pleasure the neighbouring country, Ihr enemy not * A. M 3724. A. Garth. 666. A. Rome, 468. Ant. J. C. 280. Polyb. 1. i. p. 8. Edit. Givaor. t Polyb. 1. i. p. 12—15. iCdit. Gronov. i A. M. 3741- A. Carlh. 583. A. Rome, 485. Ant. J. C. ^23. Frsntin. CARTHAGLNIANS. li is doubled, w^hether the motives which prompted the Romans to under- lake this expedition were very upright, and exactly conformable to the rulet of strict justice.* Be this as it may, their passage into Sicily, and the suc- cour thsy gave to the inhabitants of Messina, may be said to have been the first steps by which they ascended to that height of glory and grandeur they ^ftervvan^s attained. Hiero having recorKiiled himself to the Romans, and entered into an allia ce with them, the Carthaginia.^s bent all their thoughts on Sicily, and sent nume- rous armies into that island.! Agrigentum was their depot of arms, whic'j, being attacked by the Romans, was won by them, after tney had besieged ii «cveM months, and grained one battle. J Notwithstanding the advantage of this victory, and the conquest of so im- portant a city, the Romans were sensii>.*\ *hat while the Carthaginians should continue masters at sea, the maritir^e places in the island would always side with them, and put it out of thf ir power ever to drive them out of oiciIy.<^ Besides, they saw with reluctance Africa enjoy a profound tranquillity, at a time that Italy was iiifested hy the frequent incursions of its enemies. They now first formed the design of having a fleet, and of disputing the empire of the sea with the Carthaginiims. The undertaking was bold, and in outward appearance rash, but evinces the courage and grandeur of the Roman genius. The Romans were not then possessed of a single vessel, which they could call their own; and the ships which had transported their forces into Sicily iiad been borrowed of their neighbours. They were unexperienced in sea affairs, had no carpenters acquainted with the building of ships, and knew nothing of the shape of the quinqueremes, or galleys, with five benches ol uars, in which the chief strength of fleets at that time consisted ; but happily, the year before, one had been taken upon the coasts of Italy, which served them as a model. They therefore applied themselves with ardour and incredible in- dustry to the building of ships in the same form ; and in the mean time they got together a set of rowers, who were taught an exercise and discipline ut- terly unknown to them before, in the following manner. Benches were made, on the shore, in the same order and fashion with those of galleys. The row- ers were seated on these benches, and taught, as if they had been furnished with oars, to throw themselves backwards with their arms drawn to their breasts ; and then to throw their bodies and arms forward in one regular mo- tion, the instant their commanding officer gave the signal. In two months, one hundred galkys of five benches of oars, and twenty galleys of three benches were built; and after some time had been spent in exercising the rowers on ship-board, the fleet put to sea, and went in quest of the enemy. The con- sul Duillius had the command of it. The Romans coming up with the Carthaginians near the coast of Myle, they prepared for an engagement.il As the Roman galleys, by their being clumsily and hastily built, were neither very nimble nor easy to work, this in- convenience was supplied by a machine invented for this occasion, and af- If'rwards known by the name of the Corvus,1[ crow or crane, by help of which they grappler^ the enemy's ships, boarded them, and immediately came to ^.lose engagement. The signaJ. for fighting was given. The Carthaginian fleet consisted of a hundred and thirty sail, under the command of Hannibal fie himself was on board a galley of seven benches of Oars, which had once belonged to Pyrrhus. The Carthaginians, highly despising enemies wl o y/ere utterly unacquainted with sea affairs, imagined that their very appear- ance would put them to flight, and therefore came 1 mvard boldly, with little expectatfon of fighting, but firmly imagining they should reap the spoils, which they had already devoured with tlieir eyes. They were nevertheletf ♦ The Chevalier Folard examines this question in his remarks upon Polybius, 1. i. p. 16. ♦ Polyb. 1. i. p. 15—19. i A. M. 3743. A. Rome, 437. 6 Polyb. I. i. p. m, d A. M. 3745. A. Rome, 489. Polyb. 1. \. p. 22. f Polyb. 1. u p. SL ♦* A different person from the great Hannibal- 188 HISTORT OF THE a little surprised at (he sight of the above-mentioned engines, raised on thi prow of every one of the enemy's ships, and which was entirely new to them. But their astonishment increased, when they saw those engines drop down at once ; and being thrown forcibly into their vessels, grapple them in spite of all resistance. This changed the form of the action, and obliged the Cartha- ginians to come to close engagement with their enemies, as though they had iought them on land. They soon were unable to sustain the attack of the Roman vessels, upon which a horrible slaughter ensued ; and the Carthagi- nians lost fourscore vessels, among which was the admiral's galley, he himself escaping with difliculty in a small boat. So considerable and unexpected a victory raised the courage of the Romans, and seemed to redouble their vigour for the continuance of the war. Extra- ordinary honours were bestowed on the consul Duillius, who was the first Ro- man that had a naval triumph decreed him. Besides which, a rostral pillar was erected in his honour, with a noble inscription ; which pillar is yet stand- ing in Rome.* During the two following years, the Romans grew insensibly stronger at sea, by their gaining several naval victories.! But these were considered by them only as essays preparatory to the great design they meditated of carrying the war into Africa, and of combating the Carthaginians in their own country. There was nothing the latter dreaded more ; and to divert so dangerous a blow, they resolved to fight the enemy, whatever iin'ght be the consequence. The Romans had elected M. Atilius Regulus, and L. Manlius, consuls for this year.J; Their fleet consisted of three hundred and thirty vessels, on board of which were one hundred and forty thousand men, each vessel having three hundred rowers, and a hundred and twenty soldiers. That of the Carthagi- nians, commanded by Hanno and Hamilcar, had twenty vessels more than the Romans, and a greater number of men in proportion. The two fleets came in sight of each other near Ecnomus in Sicily. No man could behold t^vo such formidable navies, or be a spectator of the extraordinary preparations they made for fighting, without being under some concern, on seeing the dan- ger which menaced two of the most powerful states in the world. As the courage on both sides was equal, and no great disparity in the forces, the fight was obstinate, and the victory long doubtful ; but at last the Carthaginians were overcome. More than sixty of their ships were taken by the enemy, and thirty sunk. The Romans lost twenty-four, not one of which was taken The fruit of this victory, as the Romans had designed it, was their sailing (o Africa, after having refitted their ships, and provided them with all neces- saries for carrying on a long war in a foreign country. § They landed happily in Africa, and began the war by taking a town called Clypea, which had a commodious haven. From thence, after having sent an express to Rome, to give advice of their landing, and to receive orders from the senate, they over ran the open countrj^ in which they made terrible havoc ; bringing away whole flocks of cattle, and twenty thousand prisoners. The express returned in the mean time with the orders of the senate ; which were, that Regulus should continue to command the armies in Africa, with the title of proconsul ; and that his colleague should return with a great part of Sie fleet and the forces ; leaving Regulus only forty vessels, fifteen thousand foot, and five hundred horse. || Their leaving the latter with so few ships and troops, was a visible renunciation of the advantages which might have been expected from the descent upon Africa. The people at Rome depended greatly on the courage and abilities of Regu- iuf; and their joy was universal, when it was known that he was continued ia • Theie pillars were called rostratae, fiom the beaks of ships with which they were adorned ; roftl9 t Polyb. 1. i. p. 24. t A. IVi. 3749. A. Rome. 494. Polyb. 1. i. p. 34. i Folyb. 1. i p. 30. 11 A M. 376b. A. Rome, 494. CARTHACINlAx-Va. jg^ ^ command in Africa ; but je alone was afflicted on that account.* Whee news was brought him of it, he wrote to Rome, and requested, in the strongest terms, that he might be allowed to resign. His chief reason was, that the death of the farmer who rented his grounds, having given one of his hirelings an opportunity of carrying off all the implements of tillage, his presence was necessaiy for taking care of his little spot of ground, but seven acres, which was all the property his family possessed. But the senate undertook to have fells lands cultivated at the public expense ; to maintain his wife and children; an.i to indemnify him for the loss he had sustained by the robbery of his hire- ling. Thrice happy age I in which poverty was thus had in honour, and v/aa united with the most rare and uncommon merit, and the highest employments of the state! Regulus, thus freed from his domestic cares, bent his whole thoughts on discharging the duty of a general. After taking several castles, he laid siege to Adis, one of the strongest for- tresses of the country.t The Carthaginians, exasperated at seeing their ene- mies thus laying waste their lands at pleasure, at last took the field, and march- ed against them, to force them to raise the siege. With this view, they posted themselves on a hill, which overlooked the Roman camp, and was convenient for annoying the enemy ; but at the same time, by its situation, useless to one part of their army ; for the strength of the Carthaginians lay chiefly in their horses and elephants, which are of no service but in plains. Regulus did not give them an opportunity of descending from the hill, but taking advantage of this essential mistake of the Carthaginian generals, he fell upon them in this ■ post ; and after meeting with a feeble resistance, put the enemy to flight, plundered their camp, and laid waste the adjacent countries. Then, having taken Tunis,! im.portant city, and which brought him near Carthage, he naade his army encamp there. The enemy were in the utmost alarm. All things had succeeded ill with them ; their forces had been defeated by sea and land, and upwards of two aundred towns had surrendered to the conqueror. Besides, the Numidians made greater havoc in their territories than even the Romans. They expected every moment to see their capital besieged. And their affliction was increased by the concourse of peasants, with their wives and children, vvho flocked from all parts to Carthage for safety ; which gave them melancholy apprehensions '>( a famine in case of a siege. Regulus, afraid of having the glory of his vic- tories torn from him by a successor, made some proposal of an accommoda- tion to the vanquished enemy ; but the conditions appeared so hard, that they fvould not listen to them. As he did not doubt his being soon master of Car- 'hage,. he would not abate any thing in his demands ; but, by an infatuation jvhich is almost inseparable from great and unexpected success, he treated them with haughtiness, and pretended, that every thing he suffered them to possess ought to be esteemed a favour, with this farther insult. That they ought either to overcome like brave men^ or learn to submit to the victor,^ So harsh and disdainful a treatment only fired their resentment, and made them resolve rather to die sword in hand, than to do any thing which might derogate how the dignity of Carthage. * Va\ Max. 1. iv. c. 4. f Polyb. 1. i. p. 31—36. X In the interval between the departure of Manlijis and the taking of Tunis, we are to place the memo- nbie combat of Regulus apd his whole army, with a serpent of so prodigious a size, that th<5 fabulous out •f Cadmus is hardly comparable to it. The story of this serpent was elegantly written by Livy, but it if BOW lost Valerius Maximus, hoA^ever, partly repairs that loss; and, in the last chapter of his first book, fire* us this account of this monster from Livy himself. He (Livy) says, that on the banks of Bagrada, an African river, lay a serpent, of so enormous a size, that it kept the whole Roman army from coming to the river. Several soldiers had been buried in the wide caverns of its belly, and many pressed to death in the spiral volumes of its tail. Its skin was impenetrable to darts ; and it was with repeated endeavours that stones, siung from military engines, at last killed it. The serpent then exhibited a sight that was mor« terrible to the Roman cohorts and legions, than even Carthagie itsnf. The streams of the river were djed with its blood, and the stench of its putrified carcase infecting the adjacent country, the Romac army was Ibrced to decamp. Its skin, one hundred and twenty feet long, was sent to Rome ; and, if Pliny may b% credited, was to be seen, together with the jaw-bone of the same monster, in the temple whei« ihey wei« •nrt deposited, as late as the Numantine war. I AfT rif dya^Ht t\ vjxgiv gTjtgiv To'f uTTfptxacriv — Diod. Eclog.l. xxm. • J (^0 msi OKY OF THE Reduced to this fatal extremity, they t-eceived, in the happiest junc^Lne, t reinforcement of auxiliary troops out of Greece, with Xsn^hijDpus the Lace^ daemonian at their head, who had been educated in the discipline of Sparta, and learned the art of war in that renowned and excellent school. When he had heard the circumstances of the last battle, which were told him at his request ; had clearly discerned the occasion of its being lost, and perfectly informed himself of the strength of Carthage, he declared publicly, and repeat- ed t often in the hearing of the rest of the officers, that the misfortunes of the Cart\iaginians were owing entirely to the incapacity of their generals. These discourses came at last to the ear of the public council : the members cf it were struck with them, and they requested the favour of seeing and talking with him. He then corroborated his opinion with such strong and convincing reas< ns, that the oversights committed by the generals were visible to every one ; and he proved as clearly to the council, that, by a conduct opposite to to the former, they would not only secure their dominions, but drive the ene- my out of them. This speech revived the courage and hopes of the Cartha- ginians ; and Xanthippus was entreated, and in some measure forced, to ac- cept the command of the army. When the Carthaginians saw, in his exercis- ing of theii forces near the city, the manner in v/hich he drew them up in ordei 01 battle, made them advance or retreat on the first signal, file off with order and expedition ; in a word, perform all the evolutions and movements of the militaiT art ; they were struck with astonishment, and owned, that the ablest generals which Carthage had hitherto produced knew nothing in comparison ^f Xanthippus. The officers, soldiers, and every one, were lost in admiration ; and, what is very uncommon, jealousy gave no alloy to it ; the fear of the present danger, and the love of their country, stifling, without doubt, all other sentiments. The gloomy consternation, which had before seized the whole army, was suc- ceeded by joy and alacrity. The soldiers were urgent to be led against the enemy, in the firm assurance, as they said, of being victorious under their neM leader, and of obliterating the disgrace of former defeats. Xanthippus did not suffer their ardour to cool, and the sight of the enemy only inflamed it When he had approached within a little more than twelve hundred paces of them, he thought proper to call a council of war, in order to show a respeci to the Carthaginian generals by consulting them. All unanimously joined ir opinion with him, upon which they resolved to give the enemy battle the fol- lowing day. The Carthaginian army was composed of twelve thousand foot, four thou- sand horse, and about a hundred elephants. That of the Romans, as near as may be guessed from what goes before, for Polybius gives no determinate num- ber, consisted of fifteen thousand foot, and three hundred horse. It must have been a noble sight to see two armies, not overcharged with numbers, but composed of brave soldiers, and commanded by very aole gene- rals, engaged in battle. In those tumultuous fights, where two or three hun- dred thousand are engaged on both sides, confusion is inevitable ; and it is dif- ficult, amidst a thousand events, where chance generally seems to have great- er share than counsel to discover the true merit of commanders, and the real causes of victory. But in such engagements as this before us, nothing escapes the curiosity of the reader, for he clearly sees the disposition of the two ar- mies, imagines he almost hears the orders given out by the generals, follows all the movements of the army, discovers plainly the faults on both sides, and is thereby qualified to determine, with certainty, the causes to which the victory or defeat is owing. The success of this battle, hawever inconsiderable it may appear, from the small number of the combatants, was nevertheless to decide the fate of Carthage. The disposition of both armies was as follows. Xanthippus drew all his ele- phants in front. Behind these, at some distance, he placed the Carthaginiai miantiy in one body or phalanx. The foreign troops in the Carthaginian ser rARTIlAGIMANa 191 Tice were posted, one part of them on the right, between the phalani and the horse ; ana the other, composed of light-armed soldiers^ jn platoons, at the head of the two wings of the cavalry. On the side of the Romans, as they apprehended the elephants most, Re- pilus. to provide against them, posted his light-armed soldiers, on a line, in the front of the legions. In the rear of these he placed the cohorts, one be- hind another, and the horse on the wings. In thus straitening the front of hi? main battle, to give it more depth, he indeed took a just precaution, says^Po- lybius, against the elephants, but he did not provide for the inequality of his cavalry, which was much inferior in numbers to that of the enemy. The two armies being thus drawn up, waited only for the signal. Xanthip- pus ordered the elephants to advance, to break the ranks of the enemy ; and commanded the two wings of the cavalry to charge the Romans in flank. At the same time, the latter, clashing their arms, and shouting after the manner of their country, advanced against the enemy. Their cavalry did not stand the onset long, it being so much inferior to that of the Carthaginians. The in- fantry of the left wing, to avoid the attacks of the elephants, and show how h'ttle they feared the mercenaries who formed the enemy's right wing, attacks % puts it to flight, and pursues it to the camp. Those in the first ranks, who were opposed to the elephants, were broken and trodden under foot, after fight- ing valiantly ; and the rest of the main body stood firm for sometime, by rea- son of its great depth. But the rear, being attacked in flank by the enemy's cavalry, and obliged to face about and receive it, and thos? who had broken through the elephants, met the phalanx of the Carthaginians, which had not yet engaged, and which received them in good order, the Romans were routed on all sides, and entirely defeated. The greatest part of them were crushed to death by the enormous weight of the elephants ; and the remain- der, standing in their ranks, were shot through and through with arrows from the enemy's horse. Only a small number fled, and as the}' v>ere in an open country, the horse and elephants killed a great part of them. Five hundred, or thereabouts, who went off* with Regulus, were taken prisoners with him. The Carthaginians lost, in this baftle,eighthundredmercenaries, who were op- posed to the left wing of the Romans ; and of the latter only two thousand escaped, who, by their pursuing the enemy's right wing, had drawn themselves out of the engagement. All the rest, Regulus and those who were taken with him excepted, were left dead in the field. The two thousand who had es- caped the slaughter retired to Clypea, and were saved in an almost nviraculous manner. The Carthaginians, after having stripped the dead, entered Carthage in tri- umph, dragging a^fter them the unfortunate Regulus, and five hundred prison- ers. Their joy was so much the greater, as, but a very few days before, they had seen themselves upon the brink of ruin. The men and women, old and young, crowded the temples, to return thanks to the gods ; and several days Were devoted wholly to festivities and rejoicings. Xanthippus, who had contributed so much to this happy change, had the wisdom to withdraw shortly after, from the apprehension lest his glory, which had hitherto been unsullied, might, after this first blaze, insensibly faae away, and leave him exposed to the darts of envy and calumny, which are always dangerous, but most in a foreign country, when a man etands alone, unsup- ported by friends, relations, or any other succour. Polybius tells us, that Xanthippus' departure was related in a different man- ner, and he promises to take notice of it in another place, but that part of his history has not come down to us. We read in Appian,* that the Carthaginians, excited by a mean and detestable jealousy of Xanthippus' glory, and unable to bear the thoughts that they should stand indebted to Sparta for their safety, •poll pretence of conducting him and his attendants back with honour to hit De Bell. Phd. p. 90 m HISTORY OF THE DWS countiy, with a numerous convoy of ships, gave private orders to hart them all put to death in their passage : as if, with him, thej could have buried in the waves for ever the memory of his services, and ihejr horrid ingratitude to him.* This battle, says Polybius,t though not so considerable as many others, may yet furnish very salutary instructions ; which, adds that author, is the grcalesi benefit that can be reaped from the study of hi-story. First, should any man promise himself permanent good fortune, after he has considered the fate of Regulus ? That general, insolent with victory, inexora- ble to the conquered, and deaf to all their remonstrances, saw himself a lew days after vanquished by them, and made their prisoner. Hannibal suggested the same reflection to Scipio, when he exhorted him not to be dazzled with the success of his arms. Regulus, said he, would have been recorded among the few instances of valour and felicity, had he, after the victory obtained in this very country, granted our fathers the peace which they su^ for. But, putting no bounds to his ambition and the insolence of success, tbe greater his prosperity, the more ingnominious was his fall. J In the second place, the truth of the saying of Euripides is here seen in its full extent, That one wise head is worth a great many hands. ^ A single man here changes the whole face of affairs. On one hand, he defeats troops which were thought invincible ; on the other, he revives the courage of a city and an army, whom he had found in consternation and despair. Such, as Polybi js observes, is the use which ought to be made of the study of history. For there being two ways of acquiring improvement and instiuction, first, by one's own experiencxi, and, secondly, by that of other men ; it is much more wise and useful to improve by other men's miscarriages than by our own. I return to Regulus, that I may here finish what relates to him ; Polybius, to our great disappointment, taking no farther notice of that general.ll *^ This perfidious action, as it is related by Appian, may possibly be true, when "we consider the charac> ier of the Carthag-inians, who were certainly a cruel and treacherous peoi;!^. But if it be fact, "ne would •render why Polybius should reserve for another occasion, Ih*? relation of an incident, which comes in most properly here, as it finishes at once the character and life of Xanthippus. Hie silence tVierefore in thia place, makes me think that he intended to brin^ Xanthippus again upon the stage, and to exhibit him to the reader in a different light from that in which he is placed by Appian. To this let me add, that it showed no great*depth of policy in the Carthaginians, to take this method of despatching him, when so many other* offered, which were less liable to censure. In thin scheme formed for his destruction, not only himself, bu> all his followers, were to be murdered, without the pretence of even a storm, or loss of one single Cartha ^inian, to cover or excuse the perpetration of so horrid a crime. t Lib. i. p. 36, 37. • X Inter pauca felicitatis virtutisque exempla, M. Atilius quondam in h|.c eadem terra, fuisset, si victo<_ paccm petentibus dedisset patribus nostris. Sed non statuendo tandem felicitati modum, nec cohibendr ifferentem se fortunam, quanto altids elatus erat, eo fcedifis corruit. — Liv. 1. xxx. n. 30. 5 *Qr IV (T0(p6v ^ovKeviia tolj rroKKas xfTf ay vixa. Itroay not be improper to tswe notice in this place, as it was forgotten before, of a mistake of the learned Cssaubon, in his translation of a passage of Poly- bius, concerning Xanthippus. The passage is this, *Ev oXs xa{ ScivhvTr6v Tiva AaxcJaifK^viov &vdfa tt)< Aaxcovixriy &yi>3jT\s |ifT£xnx6Ta. xat tJi^tiv iv roTs iroKefXixoXs Ixo^Ta (ru|Li|ifTf ov- which is thus rendered by Casaubon : In queis [militibus sc. Graecia allatis] Xanthippus quidam fuit Lacedxmoniuf, vir disciplinS LaconicSl imbutus, et qui rei mililaris usum mediocrem habebat. Whereas, agreeably with the whole cha- racter and conduct ot Xanthippus, I take the sense of the passage to be, a man formed by the Spartan di»- cipl ne, and proportionably [not moderately] skilled in military affaii*. 11 This silence of Polybius has prejudiced a great many learned men against many of the stories told of Regulus' barbarous treatL lent, after he was taken by the Carthaginians. Mr. Rollin speaks no farther^ this matter, and therefore I shall give my reader the substance of what is brought against the general b»- lief of the Roman writers, (as well historians as poets,) and of Appian, on this subject. First, it is urged that Polybius was very sensible that the story of these cruelties was false ; and therefore, that he migH not disoblige the Romans, by contradicting so general a belief, he chose rather to be silent concerning Re- gulus after he was taken prisoner, than to violate the truth of history, of which he was so strict an obsenret. This opinion is farther strengthened, say the adversaries of this belief, by a fragment of Diodorus, which »ays, that the wife of Regulus, exasperated at the death of her husband at Carthage, occasioned, ai th« iftiHgined, by barbarous usage, persuaded her sons to reveng*. the fate of their father, by the cruel treatment of two Carthaginian captives, (thought to be Bostar and Hamilcar,) taken in the sea-fight against Sicily, a^- ter the misfortune of Regulus, and put into her hands for the redemption of her husband. One of these died by the severity of his imprisonment; and the other, by the care of the senate, who detested the cruelty, survived, and was restored to health. This treatment of the captives, and the resentment of the senate OQ that account, form a third argument or presumption against the truth of this story of Regulus, which is thus argued • — Regulus dying in his captivity, by the usual course of nature, his wife, thus frustrated of hftf kopM of redttcmiog him by the exchange of her captives, treated them with the u'-' *• barbarity, in cr**** CARTHAGINIANI!. 19.1 After being kept some years in prison, he was sent to Rome, to propose an exchange of prisoners.* He had been obliged to take an oath, that he would return in case he proved unsuccessful. He then acquainted the senate with the subject of his voyage ; and being invited by them to give his opinion freely, he answered that he could no longer do it as a senator, having lost both this quality, and that of a Roman citizen, from the time that he had fallen into tlie hands of his enemies ; but he did not refuse to offer his thoughts as a private person. This was a very delicate affair. Every one was touched with the misfortunes of so great a man. He needed only, says Cicero, to have spoker, one word, and it would have restored him to his liberty, his estate, h's di^. nity, his wife, his children, and his country ; but that word appeared to nnn contrary to the honour and welfare of the state. He therefore plainly de- clared that an exchange of prisoners ought not to be so much as thought of ; that such an example would be of fatal consequence to the republic ; that citizens, wl^^had so basely surrendered their arms and persons to the enemy, were unworthy of the least compassion, and incapable of serving their coun- try ; that with regard to himself, as he was so far advanced in years, his death ought to be considered as nothing, whereas they had in their hands several Carthaginian generals, in the flower of their age, and capable of doing their country great services for many years. It was with difficulty that the senate complied with so generous and unexampled a counsel. The illustrious exile therefore left Rome, in order to return to Carthage, unmoved either with the deep affliction of his friends, or the tears of his wife and children, although he knew but too well the grievous torments which were prepared for him.j And, indeed, the moment his enemies saw him returned without having obtained the exchange of prisoners, they put him to every kind of torture their barbarous cruelty could invent. They imprisoned him for a long time in a dismal dungeon, whence, after cutting off his eye- lids, they drew him at once into the sun, when its beams darted the strongest heat. They next put him into a kind of chest stuck full of nails, whose points wounding him, did not allow him a moment's ease either day or night. Lastly, aftar having been long tormented by being kept for ever awake in this dread- ful torture, his merciless enemies nailed him to a cross, their usual punish- ment, and left him to expire on it. Such was the end of this great maji. His enemies, by depriving him of some days, perhaps years of life, brought eter- nal infamy on themselves. The blow which the Romans had received in Africa did not discourage them. They made greater preparations than before to recover their loss ; and sent to sea, the following campaign, three hundred and sixty vessels.J The Carthaginians sailed out to meet tliem with two hundred, but were beat in an engagement fought on the coast of Sicily, and a hundred and fourteen of their ships were taken by the Romans. These sailed into Africa, to take in the few soldiers who had escaped the pursuit of the enemy, after the defeat of Regulus, and had defended themselves vigorously in Clupeaj§ where thej had been unsuccessfully besieged. Here again we are astonished that the Romans, after so considerable a vic- tory, and with solai^e a fleet, should sail into Africa, only to bring from thenc* small garrison ; whereas they might have attempted the conquest of •incc Regulus with much fewer forces, had almost completed it. The Romans were overtaken by a storm in their return, which almost de- quence of her belief of the ill usa^e which Re^ulushad received. The senate being ang"T with herfoi H, to give tcme colour to her cruelties, she gave out among her acquaintance and kindred, that her husbari ^ied in the way generally related. This, like all other reports, increased gradually ; and, from the national hatred between the Carthaginians and Romans, was easily and generally belie v^.d by the latter. How far this is conclusive against the testimonies of two such weighty authors as Cicero and Seneca, (to my •othing of the poets,) is left to the judgment of the reader. * A. M. 3755. A. Rome. 499. Appian de Bello Pun. p. 2, 3. Cic. de Off. I. iii. n. 99, 100. Aid. M I ri. c. 4. Senec. Ep. 99. t Horat. \. iii Od.3. ♦ P©!yb. 1. riii. p. ?7. { Of C)ype«, Vol. h i94 HISTORY OF THE Btroyed their whole fleet.* The like nii;;fortune be fell them aI«othe followfnj year.t However, they consoled themselves for this doubl'j loss, by a victory which they gained over Asdrubal, from whom they took near a hundred and forty elephants. This news being brought to Rome, it filled the whole c ity with joy, not only because the strength of the enemy's army was considera- bly diminished by the loss of their elephants, but chiefly because this victory had inspired the land forces with fresh courage, who since the defeat of Rp- gulus, had not dared to \enture upon an engagement, so great was the terror with which those formidable animals had filled the minds of all the soldiers. It was therefore judged proper to make a greater effort than ever, in order to (jnish, if possible, a war which had continued fourteen years. The two con- suls set sail with a fleet of two hundred ships, and arriving in Sicily, formed the bold design of besieging Lilybaeum. This was the strongest town which the Carthaginians possessed in Sicily ; and the loss of it would be attended with that of every part of the island, and open to the Romans a tke passage into Africa. The reader will suppose that the utmost ardour was shown both in the as- sault and defence of the place.J Imilcon was governor there, with ten thou- sand regular forces, exclusive of the inhabitants ; and Hannibal, son of HamJI- cai, soon brought him as many more frcm Carthage, he having, with the m.ost intrepid courage, forced his way through the enemy's fleet, and arrived hap- pily in the port. The Romans had not lost any time. Having brought for ward their engines, they beat down several towers with their battering rams, and gaining ground daily, they made such progress as gave the besieged, who were now closely pressed, some fears. The governor saw plainly that there was no other way left to save the city, but by firing the engines of the besiegers. Having therefore prepared his forces for this enterprise, he sent them out at day -break, with torches in their hands, tow, and all kinds of com- bustible matters, and at the same time attacked all the engines. The Ro- mans strove, with unparalleled bravery, to repel them, and the engagement was very bloody. Every man, assailant as well as defendant, stood to his post, and chose to die rather than to quit it. At last, after a long resistance, and dreadful slaughter, the besieged sounded a retreat, and left the Rom.ans in possession of their works. This scene being over, Hannibal, embarking in the night, and concealing his departure from the enemy, sailed for Drepa- num, where Adherbal commanded for the Carthaginians. Drepanum was advantageously situated, having a commodious port, and lying about a hun- dred and twenty furlongs from Lilybseum ; and was of so much consequence- to the Carthaginians, that they had been always very desirousof preserving it. The Romans, animated by their late success, renewed the attack with greater vigour than ever, the besieged not daring to venture a second time to burn th-eir machines, because of the ill success they had met with, in their first at- tempt. But a furious wind rising suddenly, some mercenary soldiers repre- sented to the governor, that now was the favourable opportunity for them to fire the engines of the besiegers, especially as the wind blew full against them, and they offered themselves for the enterprise. The offer tvhs accepted, and accordingly they were furnished with every thing necessary. In a moment the fire catcned on all the engines, and the iSomans could not possibly extinguish 3i, because the flames being instantly spread cveiy where, the wind carried the sparks and smoke full into their eyes, so that they could not see where to apply relief, whereas their enemies saw clearly where to aim their strokes, and throw their fire. This accident made the Romans lose all hopes of bein^ ever able to carry the place by force. They therefore turned the siege into a blockade, raised a line of contravallation round the town, and dispersing their army in every pail of the neighbourhood, resolved to effect by time, what they tbund themselves absolutely unable to perform in any other way. Polyb. I. rii. p. 38 -4 CARTHAGINIANS. 11^, by the way, the simple, exact, and clear terms in which this treaiy is expressed : that, in so short a compass, adjusts the interests, both by sea and land, of two powerful republics and their allies. When these conditions were brought to Rome, the people, not approving of them, sent ten commissioners to Sicily, to terminate the affair. These made no alteration as to the substance of the treaty ; only shortening the time appointed for the payment, reducing it to ten years : a thousand talents were added to the sum that had been stipulated, which was to be paid immediately : and the Carthaginians were required to depart from all the islands situated between Italy and Sicily.* Sardinia was not comprehended in this treaty, but they gave it up by another treaty some years after. Such was the conclusion of this war, the longest mentioned in history, since it continued twenty-four years withojit intermission.! The obstinacy, in dis- puting for empire, was equal on either side ; the same resolution, the same greatness of soul, in forming as well as in executing projects, being conspicu- ous on both sides. The Carthaginians had the superiority with regard to ex- perience in naval affairs ; in the strength and swiftness of their vessels ; the working of them; the skill and capacity of the pilots; the knowledge (^i coasts, shallows, roads, and winds; and in the inexhaustible fund of wealth, which furnished all the expenses of so long and obstinate a war. The Rom i» s had none of these advantages ; but their courage, zeal for the public go( h love of their country, and a noble emulation of glory, supplied all other < •< - ficiencies. We are astonished to see a nation, so raw and inexperience- 1 • . naval affairs, not only disputing the sea with a people who w^ere oest skilic 1 in them, and more powerful than any that had ever been before ; but e\ en gaining several victories over them at sea. No difficulties or calamities couM discourage them. They certainly would not have thought of peace, in t);'^' circumst mces under which the Carthaginians demanded h. One unfortunnie campaig I dispirits the next; whereas the Romans were not shaken by a suc- cession c f them. As to the soldiers there was no comparison between those of Rome and oi Carthage, the former being infinitely supeibr in point of courage ; among the Generals who commanded in this war, Hamilcar, surnamed Barcha, was doubt- less the most conspicuous for his braveiy and prudence. THE LIBYAN W^AR, OR WAR AGAINST THE MERCENARIES. The war which the Carthaginians waged against the Romans was succeeded immediately by another. J The very same year,§ which, though of much shorter continuance, was infinitely more dangerous ; as it was carried on in the very heart of the republic, and attended with such cruelty and barbarity, 3s scarcely to be paralleled in history ; I mean the war which the Carthagi- nians were oblrg:e.d to sustain against their mercenary troops, who had ser\ ed jnder them in Sicily, and commonly called the African or Libyan war.ll It continued only three years and a half, but was a veiy bloody one. The only occasion of it was this : As soon as the treaty was concluded with the Romans, Hamilcar haviisir carried to Lilybaeum the forces which were in Eryx, resigned his commissioji. and left to Gisco, governor of the place, the care of transporting these forcfs into Africa.H Gisco, as though he had foreseen what would happen, did \)r,[ ship them all off' at once, but in small and separate parties ; in order th;i^ those who came first might be paid off", and sent home, before the arrival of the '-est. This conduct evinced great forecast and wisdom, but was not seconded equally at Carthage. As the republic had been exhausted by the expen«;e of a long war, and the payment of nearly three millions French livres to the Ro^ ♦ Poljb. 1. ni. p. 182. I A. M. 373{3. A. Carfh. (m. A. Rome, 507. Ant. J. C. S4L X Polrb. 1. p. 6S— 89. 5 The same year that the drst Punic war eoit^ 9 And gometimes fcvmiv. or Uie war wUh the inerRen-rir-s, IT Polyb 1. i. o. 65> 193 MinORY OF THE mails on signi ig the peace, the forces were not paid off in propoition as ibey arrived ; hut it was thought proper to wait for the rest, in the hopes of obtain ing from them, when they should be all together, a remission of some part of their arrears. This was the first oversight. Here we discover the genius of a state composed of merchants, who knoiv the full value of money, but do not estimate suniciently the merit of sol- diers ; who b^argain for blood as if it were an article of trade, and always go to the cheapest market. In such a republic, when an exigency is once an- swered, the merit of services is no longer remembered. These ,«oldiers, most of whom came to Carthage, being long accustomed to a licentious life, caused great disturbances in the city; to remedy which, it K%'as proposed to their officers, to march them all to a little neighbouring tomi called Sicca, and there supply them with whatever was necessary for their subsistence, till the arrival of the rcot of their comcanions ; and that then the}' should all be paid off, and sent home. This was a second m'ei sight. A third was, the refusing to let them leave their baggage > their wives and children, in Carthage, as they desired, and the forcing them to remove, these to Sicca ; whereas, had they staid in Carthage, they would have been in a manner so many hostages. Being all met together at Sicca, they began, having little else to do, to compute the arrears of their pay, which they made much more than was really due to them. To this computation they added the mighty promises which had been made them, at different times, as an encouragement for them to do their duty ; and pretended that these likewise ought to be placed to ac- count. Hanno, who was then governor of Africa, and had been sent to thern from the magistrates of Carthage, proposed to these soldiers some remission of their arrears ; and desired that they would content themselves with re- ceiving a part in consideration of the great distress to v^hich the common- wealth was reduced, and its present unhapp]^ circumstances. The reader will easily guess how such a proposal was received. Complaints, murmurs, seditious and insolent clamours, were every where heard. These troops b^ing composed of different nations, who were strangers to one another's language, were incapable of hearing reason when they once muti-nied. Spaniards, Gauls, Ligurians, inhabitants of the Balearic isles, Greeks, the greatest pari of them slaves or deserters, and a very great number of Africans, composed these mercenary forces. Transported with rage, they immediately break up, march towards Carthage, being upwards of twenty thousand, and encamp at Tunis, not far from that metropolis. The Carthaginians too late discovered their error. There was no compli- ance, how grovelling soever, to which they did not stoop, to sooth these exas- erated soldiers ; who on their side practised eveiy knavish art which could e thought of, in order to extort money from them. When one point was gained, they immediately had recourse to a new artifice, on which to ground gome new demand. Was their pay settled beyond the agreement made with them, they still would be reimbursed for the losses w^hich they pretended tc have sustained, either by the death of horses, or by the excessive price which at certain times they had paid for bread-corn ; and still insisted on the recom- pense whiclvhad been promised them. As nothing could be fixed, the Car- thaginians, with great difficulty, prevailed on them to refer themselves to the opinion of some gereral who had commanded in Sicily. Accordingly, they pitched upon Gisco, who had always been very acceptable to them. This gen- eral harangued them in a mild and insinuating manner ; recalled to their memo- ries the long time they had been in the Carthaginian service ; the consider- able sums they had received from the republic ; and granted almost all theif demands. The treaty was upon the point of being concluded, when two mutineers oc^ casioned a ^iimult in eveiy part of the camp. One of these was Spendius, a Capuari, who had been a slave at Rome, and fled to the Carthaginians. 0 A IITII AG IN I AN »- ] ^ tall, stout, and bold. The fear he was under of falling into the hands of his old master, by whom he was sure to be hanged, as was the custom, prompt- ed him to break off the accommodation. He was seconded by one Matho,* who had been very active in forming the conspiracy. These two represenleri .0 the Africans, that the instant after their companions should be discharged .ind sent home, they, being thus left alone in their own country, would fall a sacrifice to the rage of t'le Carthaginians, who would take vengeance upon them for the common rebellion. This v/as sufficient to raise them to fury. They iinmediately made choice of Spendius and Matho for their chiefs. Jso remori- strances were heard ; and whoever offered to make any, was immediately put to death. They ran to Gisco's tent, plundered it of the money designed for the payment of the forces ; dragged even that general himself to prison, witb all his attendants, after having treated them with the utmost indignities. Ai! the cities of Africa to whom they had sent deputies, to exhort them to recover their liberty, came over to them, Utica and Hippacra excepted, which they thoirefore besieged. Carthage had never before been exposed to such imminent danger. The citizens of it, to a man, drew their particular subsistence from the rents and revenues of their lands, and the public expenses from the tribute paid from Af- rica. But all this was stopped at once, and, a much worse circumstance, was turned against them. They found themselves destitute of arms and forces either for sea or land ; of all necessary preparations either for the sustaining of a siege or the equipping of a fleet ; and, to complete their misfortunes, without any nopes of foreign assistance, either from their friends or allies. They might in some sense accuse themselves for the distress to which they were reduced. During the last war, they had treated the African nations with the utmost rigour, by imposing excessive tributes on them, in the exaction of which, no allowance was made forpoverty and extreme misery ; and governors, !uch as Hanno, were treated with the greater respect, the more severe they had been in levying those tributes. So that these Africans were easily prcvai.- 5d upon to engage in this rebellion. At the very first signal that was made, it broke out, and in a moment became general. The women, who had often, with the deepest affliction, seen their husbands and fathers dragged to prison for non-payment, were more exasperated than the men, auvl with pleasure gave up all their ornaments towards the expenses of the war ; so that the chiefs ol the rebels, after paying all they had promised the soldiers, found themselves, still in the midst of plenty. An instructive lesson, says Polybius, to ministers ; as it teaches them to look, not only to the present occasion, but to extend theii views to futurity. The Carthaginians, notwithstanding their present distress, did not despond, but made the most extraordinary efforts for their defence. The command of the army was given to Hanno. Troops were levied by land and sea, horse as well as foot. All citizens, capable of bearing arms, were mustered, mercenaries were invited from all parts, and all the ships which the republic had left were refitted. The rebels discovered no less ardour. We related before, that they had besieged two cities which refused to join them. Their army was now in- creased to seventy thousand men. After detachments had been drawn from it to cany on these sieges, they pitched their camp at Tunis, and thereby held Carthage in a kind of blockade, filling it with perpetual alarms, and frequent- ly advancing up to its very walls, by day as well as by night. Hanno had marched to the relief of*^ Utica, and gained a considerable ad- vantage^ which, had he made a proper use of it, might have proved decisive » * Matho was an African, and free-born ; but ns he had been active in raising the rebellion, an accoM^ ■lodation would have ruined him. He therefore, despairing; of a pardon, embraced the interest of SpeoduH rith more zeal than any of the rebels ; and first insinuated to the Africans the dang-er of concluding a Mace, a« thia would leave them alone, and exposed to the rage of their old masters.- -Polyb. p. 93. KdW 500 HISTORY OF THIS but entering the ciiy, and only diverting himself there, the nicrcenaries, whe were posted on a neighbouring hill covered with trees, hearing how careless the enemy were, poured down upon them, found the soldiers every where off their duty, took and plundered the camp, and seized upon all their provisions, &c. brougfit from Carthage to succour the besieged. Nor was this the only eiror committed by Hanno ; and errors, on such occasions, are by much thV most fatal. Hamilcar, surnamed Earcha, was therefore appointed to succeed him. This general answered the idea which had been entertained of him * and his first success was in obliging the rebels to raise the siege of Utica. He then marched against their army, which was encamped near Carthag«, defeated part of it, and seized almost all their advantageous posts. These successes revived the courage of the Carthaginians. The arrivtJ of a young Numidian nobleman, Naravasus by name, who, out of his esteem for the person and merit of Barcha, joined him with two thou- sand Numidians, and was of great service to that general. Animated by this rein- forcement, he fell upon the rebels, who had enclosed him in a valJey, killed ten thousand of them, and took four thousand prisoners. The young Numidian distinguished himself greatlyin his battle. Barcha received among his troops as many of the prisoners as were desirous of being enlisted, and gave the rest liberty to go wherpver they pleased, on condition that they should never take up arms again against the Carthaginians : otherwise, that every man of them who was taken should be put to death. This conduct proves the wisdom of liiat general. He thought this a better expedient than extreme severity. And indeed, where a multitude of mutineers are concerned, the greatest part of whom were drawn in by the persuasion of the most hot-headed, or through fear of the most furious, clemency seldom fails of being successful. Spendius, the chief of the rebels, fearing that this affected lenity of Barcha might occasion a defection among his troops, thought the only expedient left him to prevent it would be, to put them upon some signal action, in order to deprive them of all hopes of being ever reconciled to the enemy. With this view, after having read to them some fictitious letters, by which advice was given him of a secret design, concerted between some of their comrades and Gisco, for the rescuing him out of prison, where he had been so long detained, he brought them to the barbarous resolution of murdering him and all the rest of the prisoners ; and any man who durst offer any milder counsel was imme- diately sacrificed to their fury. Accordingly, this unfortunate general, and seven' hundred prisoners, who were confined with him, were brought out to the head of the camp, where Gisco fell the first sacrifice, and afterwards all the rest. Their hands were cut off, their thighs broke, and their bodies, still breathing, were thrown into a hole. The Carthaginians sent a herald to de- mand their remains, in order to pay them the last sad office, but were refu- sed ; and the herald was further told, that whoever presumed to come upon the like errand, should meet with Gisco's fate. And indeed the rebels imme- diately came to this unanimous resolution, viz. to treat all such Carthaginians as should fall into their hands in the same barbarous manner ; and decreed further, that if any of their allies were taken, they should, after their hands were cut off, be sent back to Carthage. This bloody resolution was but too strictly executed. The Carthaginians were now just beginning to breathe, as it were, and re- cover their spirits, when a number of unlucky accidents plunged them again into fresh dangers. A division arose among their generals : and the provi- sions, of which they were in extreme necessity, coming to them by sea, were all cast away in a storm. But their most grievous misfortune was, the sud- den defection of the two only cities which till then had preserved their alle- g:iance, and in all times adhered inviolably to the commonwealth. These were Utica and Hippacra. These cities, without the least reason, or even to much as a pretence, went over at once to the rebels, and, transported witk the like rage and fury, murdered the governor, with the garrison sent to theif CAKTIIAGINIAJTS 201 Itiipf; and carried their inhumanity so far, as to refuse their dead bodies t« ^e Cirtnaginians, Avho demanded them for burial. The rebels, animated hy so much success, laid sieg'e to Carthage, but were ftbliged immediately to raise it. They nevertheless continued the war. Ha- ving drawn together into one body all their own troops and those of the allies, making upwards of fifty thousand men in all, they watched the motions ol Hamilcar's army, but carefully kept their ow^n on the hills, and avoided com- ing down into the plains, because the enemy would there have been so much superior to them, on account of their elephants and horses. Hamilcar, more skilful in the art of w^ar than they, nevef e^i^posed himself to any of their at- tacks ; but, taking advantage of their oversight, often dispossessed them of their posts, if their soldiers straggled ever so little, and harassed them a thou- sand ways. Such of them as fell into his hands were thrown to wild beasts. At last, he surprised them at a time when they least expected it, and shut them up in a post, which was so situated that it was impossible for them to ^ei out of it. Not daring to venture a battle, and being unable to get off, iiey began to fortify their .camp, and surrounded it with ditches and en- trenchments. But an enemy within themselves, and which v/as much more formidable, had reduced them to the greatest extremity ; this was hunger, which was so raging, that they at last ate one another; Divine Providence, says Polybius, thus revenging upon themselves the barbarous cruelty they had exercisea on others. They now had no resource left, and knew but too well the punishments wnich would be inflicted on them, in case they should fall alive into the hands of the enemy. After such bloody scenes as had been acted by them, thev did not so much as think of peace, or of coming to an accommodaiion. i hey had sent to their forces, encamped at Tunis, for as sistance, but with no success. In the mean time the famine increased daily. They had first eaten their prisoners, then their slaves, and now, their fellow- citizens only were left to be devoured. Their chiefs, no longer able to resist the complaints and cries of the multitude, who threatened to cut all their throats if they did not surrender, w^ent themselves to Hamilcar, after having obtained a safe conduct from him. The conditions of the treaty were, that die Carthaginians should select any ten of the rebels, to treat them as they should think fit, and that the rest should be dismissed with only one suit of clothes for each. When the treaty was signed, the chiefs themselves were arrested, and detained by the Carthaginians, who plainly show^ed, on this ec- casion, that they were not over-scrupulous in point of honesty. The rebels, hearing that their chiefs w^ere seized, and knowing nothing of the convention, suspected that they were betrayed, and thereupon immediately took up arms. But Hamilcar, having surrounded them, brought forward his ele- phants, and either trod them all under foot, or cut them to pieces, they being upwards of forty thousand. The consequence of this victory w^as, the reduction of almost all the cities of Africa, w^hich immediately returned to their allegiance. Hamilcar, without loss of time, marched against Tunis, which, ever since the beginning of the war, had been the asylum of the rebels, and their deposit of arms. He invested it on one side, while Hannibal, who was joined in the command with him, besieged it on the other. Then advancing near the w^al!s, and ordering crosses to be set up, he hung Spendius on one of them, and his companions who had been seized with him on the rest, where they all expired. Matho, the other chief, who commanded in the city, saw plainly by this what he himself might expect, and for that reason was much more attentive to his own defence. Per' ce:ving that Hannibal, as being confident of success, was very negligent in ?/! things, he made a sally, attacked his quarters, killed many of his n:en, to ik •everal prisoners, among whom w^as Hannibal himself, and plundered his camp Then taking Spendius from the cross, he put Hannibal in his place, aftei having made him suffer inexpressible torments, and sacrificed round the body of Spendius thirty citizens of the first rank in Carthage, as so many victims 202 HISTORY OF THE of his vengeance. One wouM conclude that there had been a mutual enuia- f ion between the contenuing parties, which of them should outdo the otlier io acts of the most barbarous cruelty. Barcha being at a distance from his colleague, it was som.e time before his misfortune reached him ; and, besides, the road lying between the two camps being impracticable, it was impossible for him to advance hastily to his assist- ance. This unlucky accident caused a great consternation in Carthage. The reader may have observed, in the course of this war, a continual vicissitude )f prosperity and adversity, of security and fear, of joy and grief; so various nd inconstant were the events on either side. In Carthage it was thought adviseable to make one bold effort. Accordingly, U the youth capable of bearing arms were pressed into the service. Hanno "as sent to join Hamilcar, and thirty senators were deputed to conjure those ^ nerals, in the name of the republic, to forget past quarrels, and sacrifice t. >ir resentments to their country's welfare. This was immediately complied u Ih ; they mutually embraced, and were reconciled sincerely to one another, r^Vom this time the Carthaginians were uniformly successful ; and Matho, Wi in every succeeding attempt, came off with disadvantage, at last thought biiiV>elf obliged to hazard a battle ; this was just what the Carthaginians wajilod. The leaders on both sides animated their troops, as going to fight a battlo which would for ever decide their fate. An engagement ensued. Vic- tory was not long in suspense, for the rebels every where giving ground, nearly all the Africans were slain, and the rest surrendered. Matho was taken alive, and carried to Carthage. All Africa returned immediately to its alle- giance, except the two perfidious cities .which had lately revolted ; they were however soon forced to surrender at di&cretion. The victorious army now returned to Carthage, and was there received with shouts of joy, and*the congratulations of the whole city. Matho and his soldiers, after having adorned the public triumph, were led. to execution, and finished, by a painful and ignominious death, a life that had been polluted with the blackest treasons, and unparalleled barbarities. Such was the conclusion of the war against the mercenaries, after having lasted three years and four months. ItTurnished, says Polybius, an ever-memorable lesson to all nations not to employ in their armies a greater num.ber of mercenaries than citizens : nor to rely, for the defence of their state, on a body of men who are not at- tached to it, either by interest or affection. I have hitherto purposely deferred taking notice of such transactions in Sar- dinia, as passed at the time I have been speaking of, and whfl5h were, in some ^ measure, dependent on, and resulting from, the war waged in Africa against the mercenaries. They exhibit the same violent methods to promote rebel- lion, the same excesses of cruelty, as if the wind had carried the same s*)irit of discord and fury from Africa into Sardinia. When the news was brought there of what Spendius and Matho were doing in Africa, the mercenaries in that island also shook off the yoke, in imitation of those incendiaries. They began by the murder of Bostar their general, and of all the Carthaginians under him. A successor was sent, but all the forces which he carried with him went over to the rebels, hung the general on a cross, and, throughout the whole island, put all the Carthaginians to the sword, after having made them suffer inexpressible torments. They then besieged all the cities one after another, and soon got possession of the whole country. But feuds arising between them and the natives, the mercenaries were driven en- tirely out of the island, and took refuge in Italy. Thus the Carthaginians lost Sardinia, an island of great importance to them, on account of its extent, ita fertility, and the great number of its inhabitants. The Komdns, ever since their treaty with the Carthaginians, had behaved towards them with great justice and moderation. A slight quarrel, on account of some Roman merchants who were seized at Carthage for their having sup- plied the enemy with provisions, had embroiled them a little. But these mer- ch&nts being" restored on the first complaint made to the senate of Carthage, the Romans, who prided themselves upon their juciiice and generosity on all occasions, made the Carthaginians a return of their former friendship ; served them to the utmost of their power, forbade their merchants to furnish any other nation with provisions, and even refused to listen to proposals made by the Sar- dinian rebels, when invited by them to take possession of the island. But these scruples and delicacy wore off by degrees, and Caesar's advantage- ous testimony, in Sallust, of their honesty and plain dealing, could not, with any propriety, be applied here : although" says he, "in all the Punic wars, the Carthaginians, both in peace and during truces, had committed a numbei of detestable actions, the Romans could never (however inviting the oppcj-tM- nity might be,) be prevailed upon to retaliate such usage, being more atten- tive to their own glory, than to the revenge they might have justly taken on such perfidious enemies."* The mercenaries, who, as was observed, had retired into Italy, brought the Romans at last to the resolution of sailing over into Sardinia, to render them- selves masters of it.t The Carthaginians were deeply afflicted at the news, under the idea that they had a more just title to Sardinia than the Romans ; they therefore put themselves in a posture to take a speedy and just revenge on those who had excited the people of that island to take up arms against them. But the Romans, pretending that these preparartions were made, not against Sardinia, but their state, declared war against the Carthaginians. The latter, quite exhausted in every respect, and scarcely beginning to breathe, were in no condition to sustain a war. The necessity of the times was therefore to be complied with, and they were forced to yield to a more pow^erful rival. A fresh treaty was thereupon made, by which they gave up Sardinia to the Romans, and obliged themselves to a new payment of twelve hundred talents, to avoid the war with which they were menaced. This injustice of the Romans was the true cause of the second Punic war, as will appear in the sequel. ARTICLE II. — THE SECOND PUNIC WAR. The second Punic war, which I am about to relate, is one of the most memo rable recorded in history, and most worthy of the attention of an inquisitive, reader : whether we consider the boldness of the enterprises ; the wisdom em- ployed in the execution ; the obstinate efforts of two rival nations, and the ready resources they found in tfieir lowest ebb of fortune ; the variety of un- common events, and the uncertain issue of so long and bloody a war ; or lastly.^ the assemblage of the most perfect exam.ples of every kind of merit, and the most instructive lessons that occur in history, either with regard to war, policy, or government,}: Never did two more powerful, or at least more w^arlike states or nations, make war against each other, and never had these in question seen tiiemselves raised to a more exalted pitch of power and glory. Rome and Carthage were, doubtless, at that time, th j two first states of the world. Hav- ing already tried their strength in the fi^ st Punic war, and thereby made an essay of each other's power, they knew perfectly well what either could do. In this second war, the fate of arms was so equally balanced, and the success so intermixed with vicissitudes and varieties, that that party triumphed which had been most in danger of ruin. Great as the forces of these two nationa Were, it may almost be said, that their mutual hatred was still greater. The Romans, on one side, could not without indignation sq^ the vanquished presum- ing to attack them ; and the Carthaginians, on the other, were exasperated at the equally rapacious and harsh treatment which they pretended to have re- ceived from the victor. * Bellls Punicis omnibufl, cum sajpe Garth aginienses et in pace et per inducias multa nefanda facioon eclsseut, numquam ipsi per occasionem talia fecere : mag'ts quod se digfnum feret, quam quod in illof jort eri potset, quaerebanL — Sallust. in Bell. Galilin. t A M. 8767. A. Carth. 609. A. Rome, ill. Ant. J. C. 33T J Lir. 1. ui. ft. I. 204 (lijf'lORV OF THE The plan which I have laid down does not permit me to enter into a minute detail of this war, whereof Italy, Sicily, Spain, and Africa, were the several S(3ats, and which has a still closer connexion with the Roman histoiy than with that 1 am now writing. I shall confine myself, therefore, principally to such transactions as relate to the Carthaginians, and endeavour, as far as I am able, to give my reader an idea of the genius and character of Hannibal, who per- haps was the greatest warrior of antiquity. THE REMOTE AND MORE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE SECOND PUNIC WAR. Before 1 come to speak of the declaration of war between the Romans and Carthaginians, 1 think it necessary to explain the true causes of it, and to point out by what steps the rupture between these two nations was so long prepar ing, before it openly broke out. That man would be grossly mistaken, says Polybius,* who should look upon the taking of Saguntum by Hannibal as the true cause of the second Punic v/ai*. The regret of the Carthaginians, for having so tamely given up Sicily, by the treaty which terminated the first Punic war, the injustice and violence of the Romans, who took advantage of the troubles excited in Africa, to dispossess the Carthaginians of Sardinia, and to impose a new tribute on them, and the success and conquests of the latter in Spain, were the true causes of the viola- tion of the treaty, as Livy, agreeing herein with Polybius, insinuates in few words, in the beginning of his history of t^e second Punic war.j And indeed Hamilcar, sumamed Barcha, was highly exasperated on account of the last treaty which the necessity of the times had compelled the Cartha- ginians to submit to, and therefore meditated the design of taking just, though distant measures, for breaking it, the first favourable opportunity that should offer.J When the troubles of Africa were appeased, he was sent upon an expedition against the Numidians ; in whichj giving fresh proofs of his courage and abili- ties, his merit raised him to the command of the army which was to act in Spain. Hannibal his son, at that time but nine years of age, begged with the utmost importunity to attend him on this occasion ; and for that purpose em- ployed all the soothir^ arts so common to children of his age, and which have so much power over a tender father.§ Hamilcar could not refuse him ; and after having made him swear upon the altars, that he would declare himself an enemy to the Romans as soon as his age would allow him to do it, took his son with him. Hamilcar possessed all the qualities which constitute the great general. To an invincible courage, and the most consummate prudence, he added a most popular and insinuating behaviour. He subdued, in a very short time, the greatest part of the nations of Spain, either by the terror of his arms, or his engaging conduct ; and, after enjoying the command there nine years, came to an end worthy of his exalted character, by dying gloriously in arms for the cause of his country. The Carthaginians appointed Asdrubal, his son-in-law, to succeed him.l! This general, to secure the country, built a city, which, by the advantage of its situation, the commodiousness of its harbour, its fortifications, and opulence occasioned by its great commerce, became one of the most considerable cities jn the world. It was called New Carthage, and to this day is known by the Bame of Carthagena. ^ From the icTcral steps of these two great generals, it was easy to {)erceive that they were meditating some mighty design, which they had always in view, * Lib. iii. p. 162—168. I Anj^ebant in^entei tpiritOs yiruirt Sicilia Sardioia^ue amissee : Nam et Sicli'mm n^mis celeri despera* tioM reruHl coac«Main ; et Sardinian, inter raotum Afncse fraude Romanorum, stipeodio etiam lupertmp* •itOt iaierceptam. — Liv. 1. xxi. a. 1. 1 P»lrb. 1. ii. p. 90. | Polyb. 1. iii. p. 127 Liy. 1. b. 1. I 4. M. 3T76. A. Rome. 550. Polyb J. ii. p |0l. CAIM liAfJlMAiNg and laid their schemes at a great liistance for putting it in execution. The Romans were sensible of this, and reproached themselves for their indolence and sloth, which had thrown them into a kind of lethargy, at a time when the enemy were rapidly pursuing their victories in Spain, which might oue clay be turned against them.'' They would have been very well pleased to attack them by open force, and to wrest their conquests out of their hands ; but the fear of "another not less formidable enemy, the Gauls kept theni from showing their resentments. They therefore had recourse to negotiation ; and con- cluded a treaty with Asdrubal, in which, >v1thout taking any notice of the rcsv of Spain, they contented themselves with introducing an article, by which the Carthaginians w^ere not allowed to make any conquests beyond the Iberus. Asdrubal, in the mean time, still pushed on his conquests, but took care nv.i lo pass beyond the limits stipulated by the treaty ; and sparing no endeavoui s to win the chiefs of the several nations by a courteous and engaging^ behaviour, he brought them over to the interest of Carthage, more by persuasive methods than force of arms.* But unhappily, after having governed Spain eight yea-'s, he was treacherously murdered by a Gaul, who took so barbarous a revenge for a private enmity he bore him.t Three years be-fore his death, he had written to Carthage, to desire that Hannibal, then twenty-two years of age, might be sent to him. J The propo- sal met with some difficulty, as the senate was divided between two powerful factions, which, from Hamilcar's time, had begun to follow opposite views in the administration and affairs of the state. One faction was headed by Hanno, whose birth, merit, and zeal for the public welfare, gave him great influence in the public deliberations. This faction proposed, on every occasion, the cor- eluding of a safe peace, and the preserving the conquests in Spain, as being preferable to the uncertain events of an expensive war, which they foresa\T would one day occasion the ruin of Carthage. The other, called the Barci #iian faction, because it supported the interests of Barcha and his family, had, to it§ ancient merit and credit in the city, added the reputati^^n which the sig- nal exploits of Hamilcar and Asdrubal had given it, and declared openly loi war. When, therefore, Asdrubal's demand came to be debated in the senate, Hanno represented the danger of sending so early into the field a young man, who had all the haughtiness and imperious temper of his father ; and who ought, therefore, rather to be kept a long time, and very carefully, under the eye of the magistrates, and the power of the laws, that he might learn obedi- ence, and a modesty which should teach him not to think himself superior to all other men. He concluded with saying, that he feared this spark, which was then kindling, would one day rise to a conflagration. His remonstrances were not heard, so that the Barcinian faction had the superiority, and Hanni- bal set out for Spain. The moment of his arrival there, he drew upon himself the eyes of the whole army, who fancied they saw his father Hamilcar revive in him. He seemed to dart the same fire from his eyes; the same martial vigour displayed itsell in the air of his countenance, with the same features and engaging deportment. But his personal qualities endeared him still more. He possessed almost every talent that constitutes the great man. His patience in labour was invin- cible, his temperance w^as surprising, his courage in the greatest dangers in- trepid, and his presence of L ind in the heat of battle admirable ; and, a still niore wonderful circumstance, his disposition and cast of mind w^ere so flexible, that nature had formed him equally for commanding or obeying ; so that it was doubtful whether he w^as dearer to the soldiers or the generals. He •erved three campaigns under Asdrubal. ' * Polyb. 1. ii. p. 123. Liv. 1. xxi. n. 2. t The Tiurdier was an effect of the extraordinary fidelity of this G?,ul, whose master had fallen by the hand of Asdrubal. It ^ras perpetrated in public ; and the murderer being seized by the guards, and put to the lorture, expressed so strong a satisfaction in the thoughts of his having executed his revenge 9o suc- ce»ffuUy»that he seeme<5 to laugh at the pain of his tormentf. Eo fuit habitu oris, ut suparante laititiR i» lortn, ridfcntis etiam speciem prrebuerit. — Liv. 1. xxi. n. 1. J; A. M .173=?. A. lioms, 590. Lir. I ixi. n. 5, 4. HISTORY OF THE Upon the death of that general, the suffrages of both the army aiul peo|;le. concurred in raising Flannibal to the supreme command.* I know not whether it was not even then, or about that time, that the republic, to heighten his in- fluence and aulhurity, appointed him one of its sutfetes, the first dignity of the Btate, which was sometimes conferred on generals. It is from Corneiius Ne- post that we have borrowed this circumstance of his life, wiio, speaking of the praetorship bestowed on Hannibal, upon his return to Carthage, and the conclusion of the peace, says, that this was twenty-two years after he had beer nominated king.| The moment he was created general, Hannibal, as if Italy had been allotted to him, and he was even then appointed to make war upon ihe Romans, se- cretl}^ turned his whole views on that side and lost no time, for fear of being pre vented by death, as his father and brother-in-law had been. In Spain he took several strong towns, and conquered many nations : and although the Spaniards greatly exceeded him in the number of forces, their army amounting to up- wards of one hundred thousand men, yet he chose his time and posts so judi- ciously, that he entirely defeated them. After this victory every thing sub- mitted to his arms. j3ut he still forbore laying siege to Saguntum,§ care- fully avoiding every occasion of a rupture with the Romans, till he should be furnished with all things necessary for so important an enterprise, pursuant to the advice given by his father. He applied himself particularly to engage the affections of the citizens and allies, and to gain their confidence, by gene- rously allotting them a large share of the plunder taken from the enemy, and by scrupulously payir^ them all their arrears :!1 a wise step, which never fails of producing its advantage at a proper season. The Saguntines, on their side, sensible of the danger with which they were threatened, informed the Romans of the progress of Hannibal's conquests.^ Upon this, deputies were nominated by the latter, and ordered to go and ex- amine the state of affairs upon the spot ; they were also to lay their com- plaints before Hannibal, if it should be thought proper ; and in case he should refuse to do justice, they should then go directly to Carthage, and make the same complaints. In the mean time Hannibal laid siege to Saguntum, promising himself great advantages from the taking of this city. He was persuaded, that this would deprive the Romans of all hopes of carrying their war into Spain ; that thi i new conquest would secure those he had already made ; that as no enemy \rou.M be left behind him, his march wouid be more secure and unmolested ; that he should find money enough in it for the execution of his designs ; that the plun- der of the city would inspire his soldiers with greater ardour, and m.ake them follow him more cheerfully ; that, lastly, the spoils which he st^ould send to Carthage, would gain him the favour of the citizens. Animated by these motives, he carried on the siep;e with the utmost vigour. He himself set an example to his troops, was present at all the works, and exposed him- s<'If to the greatest dangers. News was soon carried to Rome that Saguntum was besieged. But the Romans, instead of flying to its relief, lost their time in fruitless debates, and equally insignificant deputations. Hannibal sent word to the Roman deputies^ that he was not at leisure to hear them ; they therefore repaired to Carthage, but met with no better reception, the Barcinian faction having prevailed over tiie complaints of the Romans, and all the remonstrances of Hanno. During all these voyages and negotiations, the siege was carried on with great vigour. The Saguntines were now reduced to the last extremitj, and * A M. 3784. A. Garth. 626. A. Rome, 5'28. Polyb. 1. iii. p. 178, 179. Liv. 1. xxi. n. 3—6, * In Vit. Anoib. c. li X Hie utredill praetor factus est, postquam rex fuerat anno 7;ecundo et vigesimo. { This city Isty on the Carthaginian side of the Iberus, very near the mouth of that river, and in a ceoo- try whp.re the Carthaginians were allowed to make war; but Saguntum, as an ally of the Romans, wai excepted from all hostilities, by virtue of the late treaty. n Ibi largd partiendo praedam, stipendia praateritn cum fide exsolvendo, cnnctot civium socionuoque ar \bio» i» <« firfrtavW. — I.iv. I xkj. n Ft. ^ V>olyh. 1. iii p. 170. iTl. JJr. 1. »ri. u- 6—15 CARTHAGINIANS. 907 In want of all things. An accommodation was thereupon proposed ; but th« conditions on which it was offered appeared so harsh, that the Saguntines could not prevail upon themselves to accept them. Before they gave their final an- swer, the principal senators, bringing their gold and silver, and that cf the •rjblic treasury, into the market-place, threw both into a fire lighted for that purpose, and afterwards rushed headlong into it themselves. At the same time a tower, which had been long assaulted by the battering rams, falling with a dreadful noise, the Carthaginians entered the city by the breach, soon made themselves masters of it, and cut to pieces all the inhabitants who were ot pge to bear arm?. But, notwithstanding the fire, the Carthaginians got a very great booty. Hannibal did not reserve to himself any part of the spoils gained by his victories, but applied them solely to carrying on his enter- prises. ^ Accordingly Polybius remarks, that the taking of Saguntum was of service to him, a«s it awakened the ardour of his soldiers, by the sight of the rich booty which they had just obtained, and by the hopes of more ; and it reconciled all the principal persons of Carthage to Hannibal, by the large presents he made to them out of the spoils. Words could never express the grief and consternation with which the me- lancholy news of the capture and the cruel fate of Saguntum was received at Rome.* Compassion for this unfortunate city ; shame for having failed to suc- cour such faithful allies ; a just indignation against the Carthaginians, the au- thors of all these calamities ; a strong alarm raised by the successes of Han- nibal, whom the Romans fancied they saw already at theiv gates ; all these sentiments caused so violent an emotion, that, during the first moments of their agitation, the Romans were unable to come to any resolution, or do any thing, but give way to the torrent of their passion, and sacrificed floods ot tears to the memory of a city, which fell the victim of its inviolable fidelity ! to the Romans, and had been betrayed by their unaccountable indolence and imprudent delays. When they were a little recovered, an assembly of the people was called, and war was unanimously decreed against the Carthaginians. WAR PROCLAIMED. That no ceremony might be wanting, deputies were sent to Carthage, to inquire whether Saguntum had been besieged by order of the republic, and if so, to declare war ;t or, in case this siege haa been undertaken solely hy the authority of Hannibal, to require that he should be delivered up to the Romans. The deputies perceiving that the senate gave no direct answer to their demands, one of them taking up the fold of his robe, / bring here, says he, in a haughty tone, either peace or war ; the choice is left to yourselves. The senate answering, that they left the choice to him, I give you war then, says he, unfolding his robe : and we, replied the Carthaginians, with the same hai*^hti- ness, as heartily accept it, and are resolved to prosecute it with the same cheer' fulness. Such was the beginning of the second Funic war. If the cause of this war should be ascribed to the taking of Saguntum, § the whole blame, says Polybius, lies upon the Carthaginians, who could not, with any colourable pretence, besiege a city that w^as in alliance with Rome, and as such, comprehended in the treaty, which forbade either party to make war u\'*oxi the allies of the other. But, should the origin of this war be traced higher, and carried back to the time when the Carthaginians were dispossess- ^ ed of Sardinia by the Romans, and a new tribute was so unreasonably impo- j sed on them ; it must be confessed, continues Polybius, that the co^iduct of [ lue Romans is entirely unjustifiable on these two points, as being founded merely on violence and injustice ; and that, had the Carthaginians, without havir^ recourse to ambiguous and frivolous pretences, plainly demanded • Polyb. p. 174, 175. Lir. 1. xxi. n. 16, 17. \ Sanctitate discIplinaB, qua fidem socialem usque acl peraiciem »uam coluerunt Liv. 1. xii. T t Polyb. X I2r Liy. 1. xjci. n. 18, 19. | Pol^b. 1. iii. p. 184, 185. TllS i ORY OF THE satisfaction upon these two grievances, and upon their beine refused it, had declared war against Rome, in that case reason and justice had been entirely on their side. The interval between the conclusion of the first, and the beginning of th^ second Punic war, was tvv^enty-four years. THE BEGINNING OF THE SECOND PUNIC WAR. When war was resolved upon and proclaimed on both sides, Hannibal, who was then twenty-six or twentv-seven years of a^e, before he discovered his grand design, thought it incumbent on him to provide for the security of Spain and Africa.* With this view, he marched the forces out of the one into the other, so that the Africans served in Spain, and the Spaniards in Africa. He was prompted to this from a persuasitn, that these soldiers, being thus at a dis* tance from their respective countries, would be fitter for service, and more firmly attached to him, as they would be a kind of hostages for each other'i fidelity. The forces which he left in Africa amounted to about forty inousand men, twelve hundred whereof were cavalry : those of Spain were somewhat more than fifteen thousand, of which two thousand five hundred and fiftv were cavalry. He left the command of the Spanish forces to his brother As3rubal, With a fleet of about sixty ships to guard the coast ; and at the same time gave liim the wisest counsel for his conduct, both with regard to the Spaniards or the Romans, in case they should attack him. Livy observes, that Hannibal, before he set forward on this expedition, went to Cadiz to discharge his vows made to Hercules ; and that he engaged him- self by new ones, in order to obtain success in the war he was entering upon. Polybius gives us, in few words, a very clear idea of the distance of the seve- ral places through which Hannibal was to march in his way to Italy.j From New Carthage,^ whence he set out to the Iberus, was computed two thousand two hundred furlongs. § From the Iberus to Emporium, a small maritime town, which separates Spfjm from the Gauls, according to StraboH was six- teen hundred furlongs.^ From Emporium to the pass of the Rhone, the like distance of sixteen hundred furlongs.** From the pass of the Rhone to the Alps fourteen hundred furlongs.jt From the Alps to the plains of Italy, twelve hundred furlongs.JJ Thus, from New Carthage to the plains of Italy, were eight thousand furlongs. §5 Hannibal had, long before, taken all proper measures to discover the na ture and situation of the places through which he was to pass to know how the Gauls were affected to the Romans ; to win over their chiefs, whom he knew to be very greedy of gold, by his bounty to them ;iriF and to secure to himself the affection and fidelity of a part of the nations through whose country he w^as to mar^.h. He was not ignorant, that the passage of the Alps would be attended with great difficulties, but he knew they were not insur- mountable, and that was enough for his purpose. Hannibal began his march early in the spring, from New Carthage, where he had wintered.!* His army then consisted of more than a hundred thousand men, of which twelve thousand were cavalry, and he had nearly forty elephants. Ha* ring crossed the Iberus, he soon subdued the several nations which opposed him in his march, but lost \ considerable part of his army in this expedition. He left Hanno to command all the country lying between the Iberus and the Pyrenean hills, with eleven thousand men, who were appointed to guard the baggage of • A. M. 3787. A. Carth. 629. A. Rome, 531. Ant. J. C. 217. Polyb. 1. iii. p. 187. Liv. 1. xxi. n. 21,22. j f Polyb. I. iii. p. 192, 193. % Two hundred and seventy-five miles. 1 ^ Polybius makes the distance from New Carthage to be 2600 furlongs ; consequently the whole number . furlongs will be 8400, or, allowing 625 feet to the furlong, 994 English miles, and almost one third.— Set Myb. Edit. Gronov. p. 267. U Polyb. 1. iii. p. 199. ITSOOmiles. **2G0miles. tt 1'''5 miles. J+iSOmiles. lOOOmiltf. ||)| Polyb. 1. iii. p. 188, 189. ^IT Polyb. 1. iii. p. 190. Liv. 1. xxi. n. 22—24. t* Audicrunt praeoccupatos jam ab Annlbale Gallorum animos esse ; sed ne illi quidem ipsi satii mitM 1 fenteiu fore, d' subinde auro, cujus avidissirna gciis est, principum animi concUientur — Liv. 1. jri a. 90 | CAKTHAGINIANS. (h(>9Q who were to follow liiin. He dismissed the like numljer, sending tfesa back fo their respective countries ; thus securing to himself their affection when he should want recruits, and assuring the rest that ihey should be allowed to re- turn whenever they should desire it. He passed the Pyrenean hills and ad- vanced as far as the banks of the Rhone, at the head of fifty thousand foot, and nine thousand horse ; a formidable army, but less so from the number, than from the valour of the troops that composed it ; troops who had served several years in Spain, and learned the art of war, under the ablest captains that Car- thage could ever boast. PASSAGE OF THE RHONE. Hannibal* being arrived within about four days march from the mouth of the Rhone.t attempted to cross it, because the river, in this place, took up only tlie breadth of its channel. He brought up all the ship boats and small vessels he could meet with, of which the inhabitants had a great number, because of their commerce. He likewise built with great diligence a prodigious number of boats, small vessels, and rafts. On his arrival, he found the Gauls encamped on the opposite bank, and prepared to dispute the passage. There was no possibility of his attacking them in front. He therefore ordered a considerable detachment of his forces, under the command of Hanno, the son of Bomilcar, to pass the river higher up ; and, in order to conceal his march, and the design he had in view, from the enemy, he obliged them to set out in the night. All things succeeded as he desired ; and the river was passed the next day without the least opposition.]: They passed the rest of the day in refreshing themselves, and in the night they advanced silently towards the enemy. In the morning, when the signals agreed upon had been given, Hannibal prepared to attempt the passage. Part of his horses, completely harnessed, were put into boats, that their riders might, on their landing, immediately charge the enemy. The rest of the horses swam ever on both sides of the boats, from which one single man held the bridles of three or four. The infantry crossed the river, either on rafts, or in small boats, and in a kind of gondolas, which were only the trunks of trees they tliemselves had made hollow. The large boats were drawn up in a line at the top of the channel, in order to break the force of the waves, and facilitate the passage to the rest of the fleet. When the Gauls saw it advancing on the river, they, according to their custom, broke into dreadful cries and bowlings, and, clashing their bucklers over their heads, one against the other, let fly a shower of darts. But they were prodigiously astonished, when they heard a great noise behind them, saw their tents on fire, and themselves attacked both in front and rear. They now had no way left to save themselves but by flight, and accordingly retreated to their respective villages. After this, the rest of the troops crossed the river quietly, and without any opposition. The elephants were still behind, and occasioned a great deal of trouble. They were wafted over the next day in the following manner : From the bank of the river was thrown a raft, two hundred feet in length, and fifty in breadth this was strongly fixed to the banks by large ropes, and quite covered over with earth, so that the elephants, deceived by its appearance, thought them- selves upon firm ground. From this first raft they proceeded to a second, which was built in the same form, but only a hundred feet long, and fastened to the former by chains that were easily^ loosened. The female elephants were put upf n the first raft, and the males followed after ; and, when they were got upon thr second raft, it was loosened from the first, and by the help of small boats .owed to the opposite shore. After this, it was sent back to letch those whicti were behind. Some fell into the v/ater, but they at last got safe shore, and not a single elephant was drowned. * Poiyb. 1. iii. p. 270— -271. Erlit. Gronov. Liv. 1 xxi. n. 26 — 9S. \ lUtl« abcve Avignon. 1 II is thont:'"* ♦his wasbetweeu Roqup-naure aod Pont St. Cipric Vol. I. trio HISTORY OF THE THE MARCH AFTER THE BATTLE OF THE RHONE. The two Roman consuls had, in the beginning of the spring, set out for th€ii respective provinces; P. Scipio for Spain with sixty ships, two Roman legions, fourteen thousand foot, an d twelve hundred horse of the allies ; Tiberius Sem- pronius for Sicily, with a hundred and sixty ships, two legions, sixteen thou- sand foot, and eighteen hundred horse of the allies.* The Roman legion con- Bisted, at that time, of four thousand foot, and three hundred horse. Sempro- nius had made extraordinary preparations at Lilybaeum, a seaport town in Si- cily, with the design of crossing over directly into Africa. Scipio was equally confident that he should find Hannibal still in Spain, and make that country the seat of war. But he was greatly astonished, when, on his arrival at Mar- seilles, advice was brought hira that Hannibal was upon the banks of the Rhone, and preparing to cross it. He then detached three hundred horse, to view the posture of the enemy ; and Hannibal detached five hundred Numidian horse for the same purpose, during which some of his soldiers were employed in transporting the elephants. At the same time he gave audience, in the presence of his whole arm}^ to ne of the princes of that part of Gaul which is situated near the Po, who !tssured hirn, by an interpreter, in the name of his subjects, that his arrival was impatiently expected , that the Gauls were ready to join him, and march against the Romans ; that he himself would conduct his army through places where they should meet with a plertiful supply of provisions. vVhen the prince was withdrawn, Hannibal, in a speech to his troops, magnified ex- tremely this deputation from the Gauls ; extolled with just praises, the braveiy which his forces had shown hitherto, and exhorted them to sustain to the last their reputation and glory. The soldiers, inspired with fresh ardour and cou rage, declared, with uplifted hands, their readiness to follow^ wherever he should lead the way. Accordingly he appointed the next day for his march ; and after offering up vows, and making supplications to the gods for the safety of his troops, he dismissed them, desiring, at the same time, that they would take necessary refreshments. While this was doing the Numidians returned. They had met with and chained the Roman detachment ; the conflict was very obstinate, and the slaughter great, considering the small number of combatants. A hundred and sixty of the Romans were left dead upon the spot, and more than two hundred of their enemies. But the honour of this skirmish fell to the Romans, the Numidians having retired, and left them the field of battle. This first action was interpreted as an omen of the fate of the whole war, and seemed to promise success to the Romans, but which, at tbe same time, would be dearly bought, and strongly contested.! On both sides, those who had sur- vived this engagement, and who had been engaged in reconnoitering, returned to inform their respective generals of what they had discovered. Hannibal, as he had declared, decamped the next day, and crossing through the midst of Gaul, advanced northward ; not that this was the shortest way to the Alps, but only as it led him from the sea, it prevented his meeting Scipio,* and, by that means favoured the design he had of marching all his forces into Italy, without lessening them by fighting Though Scipio marched with the utmost expedition, he did not reach the place where Hannibal had passed the Rhone, till three days after he had set out from it. Despairing therefore to overtake him, he returned to his fleet, and reimbarked, fully resolved to wait for Hannibal at the foot of the Alps. But, in order that he might not leave Spain defenceless, he sent his brothel Cneiut thither, with the greatest part of his army, to make head against At* * Polyb. 1. iii. p. 2C0— 202, &c. lAv. 1. xxi. n. 1, 32. t Roc principium simulque omen hrlli, ut sumnia rerum prosperua -jvenluin, ita hand sand inCRtSDl.^' v^\^\\Hx\}i<& oertaminis victoriajac Roinanis portendil.— L*' xxi. a. 'i. CAaTJJAGlAlA.\». 211 (tftibal ; and himself set forvvaids immediately for Genoa, with the intention of opposing the army which was in Gaul, near the Po, to that of Hannibal. The latter, after four days march, arrived at a kind of island, formed by the conflux of two rivers, which unite their streams at this place.^ Here he was choser umpire between two brothers, who disputed their right to the kingdom. He to whom Hannibal decreed it, furnished his whole army with provisions, clothes and arms. This was the country of the Allobroges, the people who inhabited the present districts of Geneva, Vienne,t and Grenoble. His march was not much interrupted till he arrived at the Durance, and from thence he reached the foot of the Alps without any opposition. THE PASSAGE OVER THE ALPS. The sight of these mountains, whose tops seemed to touch the skies, and were covered with snow, and where nothing appeared to the eye but a few pitiful cottages, scattered here and there, on the sharp tops of inaccessible rocks ; nothing but meagre flocks, almost perishing with cold, and hairy men of a savage and fierce aspect; this spectacle renewed the terror which tlie distant prospect had raised, and chilled with fear the hearts of the soldiers. J When they began to climb up, they perceived the mountaineers, who had seized upon the highest cliffs, and prepared to oppose their passage. They therefore were forced to halt. Had the moun^? Sneers, says Polybius, only lain in ambuscade, and suffered Hannibal's troops to 4rike into some narrow passage, and then charged them on a sudden, the Carthaginian army would have been irrecoverably lost. Hannibal, being informed that they kept those posts only in the day time, and quitted them in the evening, pos- sessed himself of them by night. The Gauls, returning early in the morning, were very much surprised to find their posts in the enemy's hands ; but still they were not disheartened. Being used to climb up those rocks, they at- tacked the Carthaginians who were upon their march, and harassed them on all sides. The latter were obliged, at the same time, to engage with the enemy, and struggle with the ruggedness of the paths of the mountains, where they could hardly stand. But the greatest disorder was caused by the horses and beasts of burden laden with the baggage, that were frighted by the cries and howling of the Gauls, w^hich echoed dreadfully among the moun- tains ; and being sometimes wounded by the mountaineers, came tumbling on the soldiers, and dragged them headlong with them down the preci- ices which skirted the road. Hannibal, being sensible that the loss of his aggage alone w^as enough to destroy his army, ran to the assistance of his troops who were thus embarrassed, and having put the enemy to flight, con- tinued his march without molestation or danger, and came to a castle, which was the most important fortress in the whole country. He possessed himself of U, and of all the neighbouring villages, in which '^he found a lai^e quantity of corn, and sufficient cattle to subsist his army for three days. Although their march was for a short time uninterrupted, the Carthaginians were to encounter a new danger. The Gauls, feigning to take advantage of the misfortunes of their neighbours, who had suffered for opposing the passage of Hannibal's troops, came to pay their respects to that general, brought him provisions, offered to be his guides, and left him hostages, as pledges of their fidelity. Hannibal, however, placed no great confidence in them. The elephants and horses marched in the front, while himself followed with the main body of his foot, keeping a vigilant eye over all. They came at length * The text of Polybius. as it has been transmitted to us. and that of Livy, place this island at the meet- in? of the Saone and the Rhone, that is, in that part where the city of Lyons stands. But this is a maJtt^ fest error. It was Sxco^ay in the Greek, instead of which 6 "A^a^oi has besn substituted. J. GroBorias •ays, that he had read, in a manuscript of Livy, Bisarar, which shows that we are to read Isara Rhoda^' osque amnes, instead of Arar Rhodanusque ; and thai the island in question is formed bv the con3ux of th^ 2ra*aaod the Rhone. The situation of the Allobroges, here spdken of, proves this evidently. In Danphui6 t Polyb. 1. iii. p. 203- 90« Liv. 1. xxi. n. 32—3^. «||^ HISTORY OF THE to a very steep and narrow pass, which was commanded by an eminence, where the Gauls had placed an ambuscade. These rushing out on a sudden^ assailed the Carthaginians on every side, rolling down stones upon them of a prodigious size. The army would have been entirely routed, nad not Han« nibal exerted himself, in an extraordinary manner, to extricate them out of this difficulty. At last, on the ninth day, they reached the summit of the Alps. Here the army halted two days, to rest and refresh themselves after their fatigue, aftei which they continued their march. As it was now autumn, a great quantity ol' snow had lately fallen, and covered all the roads, which caused a consternation among the troops, and disheartened them very much. Hannibal perceived it and halting on a hill, from v/hence there was a prospect of all Italy, he showec- them the fruitful plains of Piedmont, watered by the river Po, which ihey had nearly reached, adding that they had but one more effort to make, before they an'ived at them. He represented to them, that a battle or two would put a glorious period to their toils, and enrich them forever, by giving them pos- session of the capital of the Roman empire. This speech, full of such pleas- ing hopes, and enforced by the sight of Italy, inspired the dejected soldiers with fresh vigour and alacrity. They therefore pursued their march. But still the road was more craggy and troublesome than ever, and as they were now on a descent, the difficulty and danger increased. For the ways were nar- row, steep, and slippery, in most places ; so that the soldiers could neither keep their feet as they marched, nor recover themselves when they made a false step, but stumbled, and beat down one another. They were now come to a place worse than any they had yet met with. This was a path naturally very steep and craggy, which being made more so by the late falling in of the earth, terminated in a frightlul precipice more than a thousand feet deep. Here the cavalry stopped short. Hannibal, wondering at this sudden halt, ran to the place, and saw that it would really be impossible for the troops to advance. He therefore was for making a circuitous route* but this also was found impracticable. As upon the old snow, which was growing hard by lying, there was some lately fallen that was of no great depth, the feet, at first, by their sinking into it, found a firm support ; but this snov? being soon dissolved by the treading of the foren.ost troops and beasts of bur- den, the soldiers marched on nothing but ice, which was so slippery that they had no firm footing ; and where, if they made the least false step, or endea- voured to save themselves with their hands or knees, there were no boughs or roots to catch hold of. Besides this difficulty, the horses, striking their feet forcibly into the ice to keep themselves from falling, could not draw them out again, but were caught as in a gin. They therefore were forced to seek some other expedient. Hannibal resolved to pitch his camp, and to give his troops some days rest, on the summit of this hill, which was of a considerable extent, after they should have cleared the ground, and removed all the old as well as the new fallen snow^, which was a work of immense labour. He afterwards ordered a path to be cut into the rock itself,' and this was carried on with amazing patience and labour. To open and enlarge this path, all the trees thtireabout were cut down, and piled round the rock, and there set on fire. The wind, fortunately blowing hard, a fierce flame soon broke out, so that the rock glowed like the very coals with which it was surrounded. Then Hannibal, i? Livy may be creaited, for Polybius says nothing of this matter, caused a great quantity of vinegar to be poured on the rock,* which piercing into the veins of it, that were now cracked by the intense heat of the fire, calcined and softened it. * Many reject this incident as fictitious. Pliny takes notice of a remarkable quality in vineg-ar, viz. its being able to break rocks and stones. — Saxa rumpit infusum, quas noQ ruperit ig-nis antecedens, 1. xxiii.c. t He therefore calls it, Succus rerum domitor, 1. xxxiii, c. 2. Dion, speaking- of the siege of Eleuthra, says, that the walls of it were made to fall by the force of vinegar, 1. xxxvi. p. 8. Probably the circumfttuie* tant seems improbable on this occasion, is the difficulty of Hannibal's procuring:, in thoie mountainf* a quav lity ftf vinegar sufficient for this purpose. CARTIIAGIMAM*. 213 In tfiii manner, making a large circjit, in oider that the descent might he eapier, they cut a way along the rock, which opened a free passage to tiie forces, the baggage, and even to the elephants. Four days were employ c'd in this work, during which the beasts of burden had no provender, theie [ being no food for them on mountains buried under eternal snows. At last they , came into cultivated and fruitful spotn, which yielded plenty of forage for the hor:»es, and all kinds of food for the soldiers. HANNIBAL ENTERS ITALY. Whkn Hannibal marched into Italy, his army was far less numerous than when he left Spain, where we find it amounted to nearly sixty thousand men.* He had sustained great losses during the march, either in the battles he was forced to fight, or in the passage of rivers. At his departure from the Rhone, it ci)nsisted of thirty-eight thousand foot, and above eight thousand horse. The march over the Alps destroyed nearly half this number, so that Hannil»a] had now remaining only twelve thousand Africans, eight thousand Spanisi) (oot, and six thousand horse. This account he himsel«f caused to be engraved on a pillar near the promontory called Licinium. It was five months and a half since his first setting out from New Carthage, including the forlnigbt he pmployed in marching over the Alps, when he set up his standard in the plains of the Po, at the entrance of Piedmont. It might then have been September. His first care was to give his troops some rest, which they very much want- ed. When he perceived that they were fit for action, the inhabitants of all the territories of Turint refusing to conclude an alliance with him, he marched Rnd encamped before their chief city, carried it in three days, and put all who had opposed him to the sword. This expedition struck the barbarians with so much dread, that they all came voluntarily and surrendered at discretion. The rest of the Gauls would have done the same, had they not been awed by [he terror of the Roman arms, which were now approaching. Hannibal thought, therefore, that he had no time to lose ; that it was his interest to march up into the country, and attempt some great exploit, such as might in- duce those who should have an inclination to join him to rely on his valour. The rapid progress which Hannibal h?d made greatly alarmed Rome, and caused the utmost consternation throughout the city. Sempronius was ordered to leave Sicily, and hasten to the relief of his country ; and P. Scipio, the other consul advanced with the utmost diligence towards the enemy, crossed th*» Po, and pitched his camp near the Ticinus.J BATTLE OF THE CAVALRY NEAR THE TICINUS. The armies being now in sight, the generals on each side made a speech to their soldiers, before they engaged in battle.§ Scipio, after having represent- ed to .lis forces the glory of their country, and the noble achievements of their ancestors, observed to them, that victory was in their hands, since they were to combat only with Carthaginians, a people who had been so often defeated by them, as well as forced to be their tributaries for twenty years, and long accustomed to be almost their slaves : that the advantage they had gained over the flower of the Carthaginian horse, was a sure omen of their success during the rest of the war : that Hannibal, in marching over the Alps, had just oetore lost the best part of his army, and that those who survived were ex- hausted with hunger, cold, and fatigue : that the bare sight of the Romans was suthcieut to put to flight a parcel of soldiers, who had the aspect of ghosts rather than of men : m a word, that victory was become necessary, not only to secure Italjr, but to save Rome itself, whose fate the present battle would decide, that city havmg no other army wherewith to oppose the enemy. Hannibal, that his words might make the stronger impression on the rude mmds ol his soldiers, addressed himself to their eyes, before he addressed * Polyb. 1. iii. p. 209 & 212-214. Liv. 1 xxi. n. 39. t Taurini. I A imall nrer. now called Tesiuo. in Lorahardy J Polyb. 1. iii, p. 214—218. Lir. 1. xx\. d. 3§— 47 9\A HISTORY OF THE their cars ; and did not attempt to persuade them by aii^ments, till he had first moved them by the following spectacle. He armed some of the prison- ers he had taken in the mountains, and obliged them to fight, two and two, in sight of his army, promising to rew^ard the conquerors with their libeny and rich presents. The alacrity and vigour w^herewilh these barbarians engaged upon these mo,Mves, gave Hannibal an occasion of exhibiting to his soldiers s lively image of their present condition ; which, by depriving them of all meani ©f returning back, put them under an absolute necessity either of conquering or dying, in order to avoid the endless evils prepared for those that should be so base and cowardly as to submit to the Romans. He displayed to them the ffreatness of their reward, viz. the conquest of all Itai^ ; the plunder of the rich and wealthy city of Rome ; an illustrious victory, and immortal glory. He spoke contemptibly of the Roman power, the false lustre of which he ob- served, ought not to dazzle such warriors as themselves, who had marched from the pillars of Hercules, through the fiercest nations into the very centre of Italy. As for his own part, he scorned to compare himself with Scipio, a gene- ral of but six months standing : himself, who was almost born, at least brought up, in the tent of Hamilcar his father ; the conqueror of Spain, of Gaul, of the inhabitants of the Alps, and, what was still more remarkable, of the Alps them- selves. He roused their indignation against the insolence of the Romans, who had dared to demand that himself, and the rest who had taken Saguntum, should be delivered up to them ; and excited their jealousy against the intolerable pride of those imperious masters, w ho imagined that" all things ought to obey them, and that they had a right to give laws to the w^orld. After these speeches, both sides prepared for battle. Scipio, having thrown a bridge across the Ticinus, marched his troops over it. Two ill omens had filled his army with consternation and dread.* As for the Carthaginians, they w^e re inspired with the boldest courage. Hannibal animated them with fresh promises ; and cleaving with a stone the skull of the lamb he was sacrificing, he prayed to Jupiter to dash his head in pieces in like manner, in case he did not give his soldiers the rewards be had promised them. Scipio posted in the first line, the troops armed with missile weapons, and the Gaulish horse ; and forming his second line of the flower of the confederate cavalry, he advanced slowly. Hannibal advanced with his whole cavaliy, irj the centre of which he had posted the troopers who rode with bridles, ana the Numidian horse on the wings, in order to surround the enemy .j The offi* cers and cavalry, being eager to engage, the battle commenced. At the first onseL Scipio's light-armed soldiers discharged their darts, but frightened at the Carthaginian cavalry, which came pouring upon them, and fearing lest they should be trampled under the horses' feel, Xhej gave w^ay, and retired through the intervals of the squadrons. The fi.ght continued a long time with equal success. Many troopers on both sides dismounted ; so that the battle was carried on between infantry as well as cavalry. In the mean time, the Numidians surrounded the enemy, and charged the rear of the light-armed troops, who at first had escaped the attack of the cavalry, and trod them under their horses' feet. The centre of the Roman forces had hitherto fought with great bravery. Many were killed on both sides, and even more on that of the Carthaginians. But the Roman troops were thrown into disorder by the Numi- dians, v'ho attacked them in the rear : and especially by a wound the consul received, which disabled him. This general, however, was rescued out of the enemy's hands by the bravery of his son, then but seventeen years old, and who afterw^ards was honoured with the surname of Africanus, for having put a gloxious period to this war. The consul, though dangerously wounded, retreated in good order, and waa conveyed to his camp by a body of horse who covered him with their arms * These two ill omens were, first, a wolf had stole into the camp of the Romans, and cruelly mangled •one x>i the soldiers, without receiving the least harm from those who endeavoured to kill it ; and, secondij. • 9«rann of bees bad pitched upon a tree near the prstorium, or general's tent. — Liv. I. xxi. c. 46 t The Numidians used to ride without saddle or bridle. rARTIIAGINIANi. wk! bodies : the rest of t^e army followed lum llnther. He hasteoed to tt>f Po, which he crossed with his army, and then broke down the bridge, whercbj he prevented Hannibal tVom overtaking him. It was agreed, that Hannibal owed this first victory to his cavalry ; and it was judged from thenceforth, that the main strength of his army consisted in his horse ; and therefore, that it would be proper for the Romans to avoid large open plains like those between the Po and the Alps. Immediately after the battle of the Ticinus, all the neighbouring Gauls seem- ed to contend who should submit themselves first to llannibal, furnish him with ammunition, and enlist in his army. And this, as Polybius has observed, was what chiefly induced that wise and skilful general, notwithstanding the small number and weakness of his troops, to hazard a battle ; which he indeed was now obliged to venture, from the impossibility of marching back whenever he should desire to do it, because nothing but a battle would oblige the Gauls to declare for him : their assistance being the only refuge he then had left. BATTLE OF TREBIA. Semprovius the consul, upon the orders he had received from the senate, was returned from Sicily to Ariminum.* From thence he marched towards Trebia, a small river of Lombardy, which falls into the Po a little above Pia- centia, where he joined his forces to those of Scipio. Hannibal advanced to- wards the camp of the Romans, from which he was separated only by that small river. The armies lying so near one another, gave occasion to frequent skirmishes, in one of which Sempronius, at the head of a body of horse, gained lut a very small advantage over a party of Carthaginians, which neverthejess /ery much increased the good opinion this general naturally entertained ol^'his own merit. This inconsiderable success seemed to him a complete victory. He boasted his having vanquished the enemy in the same kind of fight in which his colleague had been defeated, and that he thereby had revived the courage of the dejected Romans. Being now resolutely bent to come, as soon as possible, to a decisive battle, he thought it proper, for decency sake, to consult Scipio, whom he found to be of a quite different opinion from himself. Scipio represented, that in case time should be allowed for disciplining the new levies during the win- ter, they would be much more fit for service in the ensuing campaign ; that the Gauls, who were naturally fickle and inconstant, would disengage them- selves insensibly from Hannibal ; that as soon as his wounds should be healed, his presence might be of some use in an affair of such general concern ; in a word, he besought him earnestly not to proceed any farther. These reasons, though so just, made no impression upon Sempronius. He saw himself at the head of sixteen thousand Romans, and twenty thousand allies, exclusive of cavalry, which number, in those ages, formed a complete anny, when both consuls joined their forces. The troops of the enemy amounted to near the same number. He thought the juncture extremely favourable for hini. He declared publicly, that all the officers and soldiei-s were desirous of a battle, except his colleague, whose mind, he observed, being more affected by his wound than his body, could not for that reason bear to hear of an en- gagement. But still, continued Sempronius, is it just to let the whole army droop and languish with him ? What could Scipio expect more ? Did he flatter himself with the hopes that a third consul, and a new army, would come to his assistance ? Such were the expressions he employed, both among the sol- diers, and even about Scipio's tent. The time for the election of new generals drawing near, Sempronius was afraid a successor would be sent before he had nut an end to the war ; and therefore it was his opinion, that he ought V) take advantage of his colleague's illness to secure the whole honour of the rictory to himself. As he had no regard, says Polybius, to the time proper for action, Polyb I. xxiii. f, ?20— 227. Liv. 1. xii. n. 51— 56w 216 HISTORY L^F THE and oniy to that which he thought suited his ovm interest, he could not fail of taking wrong measures. He therefore ordered his army to prepare for hattle, This was the very thing Hannibal desired, holding it for a maxim, that when a general has entered a foreign country, or one possessed by the enemy, and has formed some great design, that such an one has no other refuge left, but continually to raise the expectation of his allies by sonie fresh exploits. Be- sides, knowing that he should have to deal only with new-levied and inexperi- enced troops, he was desirous of taking eveiy advantage possible of the ardour of the Gauls, who were extremely desirous of fighting ; and of Scipio's ab- sence, who, by reason of his wound, could not be present in the battle. Mago was therefore ordered to lie in ambush with two thousand men, consisting of horse and foot, on the steep banks of a small rivulet, which ran between the two camps, and to conceal himself among the bushes, that were yery thick tliere» An ambuscade is often safer in a smooth open country, but full of thickets, ai this was, than in woods, because such a spot is less apt to be suspected. He afterwards caused a detachment of Numidian cavalry to cross the Trebia, with orders to advance at break of day as far as the very barriers of the enemy's camp, in order to provoke them to fight ; and then to retreat and repass the river, in order to draw the Romans after them. What he had foreseen, came exactly to pass. The fiery Sempronius immediately detached his whole ca- valry against the Numidians, and then six thousand light-armed troops, who were soon followed by the rest of the army. The Numidians fled designedly ; upon which the Romans pursued them with great eagerness, and crossed the Trebia without resistance, but not without gieat difficulty, being forced to wade up to their very arm-pits through the rivulet, which was swollen with the tor- rents that had fallen in the night from the neighbouring mountains. It was then about the winter-solstice, that is, in December. It happened to snow that day, and the cold was excessively piercing. The Romans had left their camp fasting, and' without taking the least precaution ; whereas the Carthaginians had, by Hannibal's order, eat and drank plentifully in their tents ; had got their horses in readiness, rubbed themselves with oil, and put on their armour by the fire-side. They were thus prepared when the fight began. The Romans defended themselves valiantly for a considerable time, though they were half spent with hunger, fatigue, and cold ; but their cavalry was at last broken and put to flight by that of the Carthaginians, which much exceeded theirs in numbers an(f strength. The infantry also were soon in great disorder. The soldiers in ambus- cade sallying out at a proper time, rushed suddenly upon their rear, and com- pleted the overthrow. A body of about ten thousand men fought their way resolutely through the Gauls and Africans, of whom they made a dreadful slaugh- ter ; but as they could neither assist their friends, nor return to their camp» the way to it being cut off by the Numidian horse, the river and the rain, they retreated in good order to Placentia. Most of the rest lost their lives on the banks of the river, being trampled to pieces by the elephants and horses. Those who escaped, joined the body above mentioned. The next night Scipio also retired to Placentia. The Carthaginians gained a complete victory, and Iheir loss was inconsiderable, except that a great number of their horses were destroyed by the cold, the rain, and the snow ; and that, of all their elephants, they saved but one. In Spain, the Romans had better success, in this and the following campaign,* for Cn. Scipio extended his conquests as far as the river Iberus,t defeated Han* no, and made him prisoner. Hannibal took the opportunity, while he was in winter quarters, to refresh his troops, and gain the affection of the natives. For this purpose, after ha- ving declared to the prisoners he had taken from the Roman allies, that he wai n»t come with the view of making war upon them, but to restore the Italiani to • f 6lyb. \. Ml. p. 228, '>29. Liv. 1, xxi. n. 61). 61. t Or Ebro CARfHAGIMANS. 2P Iheir liberty, anti protect them against the Romans, he sent them all hone H their own countries, without requiring the least ransom.* The winter was no sooner over, than he set off towards Tuscany, vvhithei he hastened his march for two important reasons.t First, to avoid the ill ef- fects which would arise from the ill-will of the Gauls, w^ho were tired with the long stay of the Carthaginian army in their territories ; and impatient of bearing the whole burden of a war, in which they had engaged with no other view^, than to carry it into the country of their common enemy. Secondly, that he might increase, by some bold exploit, the reputation of his arms in the minds of all the inhabitants of Italy, by carrying the war to the very gated of Rome, and at the same time, reanimate his troops, and the Gauls his allies, by the plunder of the enemy's territories. But in his march over the Appe- iiines, he was overtaken with a dreadful storm, which destroyed great num- bers of his men. The cold, the rain, the wind, and hail, seemed to conspire his ruin ; so that the fatigues which the Carthagini.-xns had undergone in cross- ing the Alps, seemed less dreadful than these they now suffered. He there- fore marched back to Placentia, where he again fought Sempronius, who had returned from Rome. The loss on both sides was very nearly equal. While Hannibal was in these winter quarters, he hit upon a stratagem truly Carthaginian.t He was surrounded with fickle and inconstant nations ; the friendship he had contracted w^ith them was but of recent date. He had rea- son to apprehend a change in their disposition, and consequently that atteni])ts would be made upon his life. To secure himself, therefore, he got perukes made, and clothes suited to every age. Of these he sometimes wore one, sometimes another; and disguised himself so often, that not only those who saw him transiently, but even his intimate acquaintance, cculd scarcely know him. At Rome, Cn. Servilius and C. Flaminius had been appointed consuls. § Hannibal, having advice that the latter was advanced alreadv as far Arretium, a town of Tuscany, resolved to go and engage him as soon as possible. Two ways being shown him, he chose the shortest, though the most troublesome, nay, almost impassable, by reason of a fen which he w^as forced to go through. Here the army suffered incredible hardships. During four days and three nights, they marched half leg deep in water, and consequently could not get a moment s sleep. Hannibal himself, who rode upon the only elephant he had left, could hardly get through. His long want of sleep, and the thfck va- pours which exhaled from that marshy place, together with the unhealthful- ness cf the season, cost him one of his eyes. BATTLE OF THRASYMENE. Hannibal thus extricated, almost unexpectedly, out of this dangerous situa- tion, refreshed his troops, and then marched and pitched his cainp between Arretium and Fesulse, in the richest and most fruitful part of Tuscany.'! His first endeavours were, to discover the genius and character of Flaminius, in order that he might take advantage of his errors, which, according to Foly- bius, ought to be the chief study of a general. He was told, that "Flaminius was very self-conceited, bold, enterprising, rash, and fond of glory. T« plunge him the deeper into these excesses, to which he was naturally prone,ir be inflamed his impetuous spirit, by laying waste and burning the whole coun- try in his sight. Flaminius was not of a disposition to remain inactive in his camp, though Hannibal should have lain still. But when he saw the territories oi his allies laid waste before his eyes, he thought it would reflect dishonour upon him should he suffer Hannibal to ravage Italy without controul, and even advance * Polyb. 1. iii. p. 229. f Lir. 1. xxi. n. 68. X Polyb. 1. xxi. Liv. 1. xxii. n. 1. Appian. in Bell. Annib. p. 316. I A. M. 3783. A. Rome, 532. Polyb. p. 230, 231. Liv. I. xxii. n. 2. || Polyb. 1. Wi. p. 251— 2St. % Apparebat ferociter omnia ac pncprofcrfi actiiri:m. Q,iJoquc pronior esset in sua Titia, agitart •«§ It^ii irritarc Pncnus pariit. — Liv. 1. xxii. n 3. mSTORYOFTMB to the very y^^]h of Rome, without meeting any resistance. He rejected witk fcom the prudent counsels of those who advised him to wait the arrival of his colleague ; and to be sati«iied for the present with putting a stop to the devastation of the enemy. In the mean time Hannibal was still advancing towards Rome, having Cor- lona on the left hand, and the lake Thrasymene on his right. When he sa\^ that the consul followed close after him, with the design to give him battle, bj stopping him in his march ; having observed that the ground was ccnve niont for that purpose, he also began to prepare himself for battle. The lake Thrasymene and the mountains of Cortona form a narrow defile, which leadg into a lai^e valley, lined on both sides with- hills of considerable height, and closed at the outlet by a steep hill of difficult access. On this hill, Hannibal, tfter having crossed the valley, came and encamped with the main body of his army ; posting his light-armed infantry in ambuscade upon the hills on the right, and part of his cavalry behind those on the left, as far almost as the en- trance of the defile, through which Flaminius was obliged to pass. Accord- ingly, this general, who followed him very eagerly, with the resolution to fight him, having reached the defile near the lake, was forced to halt, because night was coming on ; but he entered it the next morning at day-break. Hannibal having permitted him to advance with all his forces more than half ivay through tha valley, and seeing the Roman van-guard pi etty near him, he founded the chaise, and commanded his troops to come out of their ambus- cade, that he might attack the enemy, at the same time, from all quarters. The reader may guess at the consternation with which the Romans were seized. They were not yet drawn up jn order of battle, neither had they got their arms ^n readiness, when they found themselves attacked in front, in rear, and in flank. In a moment, all the ranks were put in disorder. Flaminius, alone undaunted in so universal a consternation, animated his soldiers both wi*:h his hand and voice ; and exhorted them to cut themselves a passage, with their swords, through the midst of the enemy. But the tumult which reigned every where, the dreadful shouts of the enemy, and a heavy fog prevented his being seen or heard. When the Romans, however, saw themselves surrounded on all sides, either by the enemy or the lake, and the impossibility of saving their lives by flight, it roused their courage, and both parties began the fight^ with astonishing animosity. Their fury was so great, that not a soldier in either army perceived an earthquake which happened in that country, and buried whole c ies in ruins. In this confusion, Flaminius being slain by one of the Insubrian Gauls, the Romans began to give ground, and at last turned and fled. Great numbers, to save themselves, leaped into the lake ; while others, directing their course to the mountains, fell into the enemy's hands whom they strove to avoid. Only six thousand cut their way through the con- querors, and retreated to a place of safety ; but the noxt day they were taken prisoners. In this battle fifteen thousand Romans were killed, and about ten thousand escaped to Rome, by different roads. Hannibal sent back the Latins, who were allies of the Romans, into their own country, without demanding the ifeast ransom.^ He commanded search to be made for the body of Flaminius, in order to give it burial, but it could not be found. He afterwards put his troops into quarters of refreshment, and solemnized the funerals of thirty of his chief officers, who were killed in the battle. He lost in all but fifteen hundred men, most of whom were Gauls. Immediately after, Hannibal despatched a courier to Carthage, with the news of his success in Italy. This caused the greatest joy for the present, raised the most promising hopes with regard to the future, and revived the courage of all the citizens. They now prepared, with incredible ardour, to send into Italy and Spain all necessary succours. Rome, on the contrary, was filled with universal grief and alarm, as soop JUi the praetor had pronounced from the rostra the following words. We hav kmiagreat battle. The senate, studious of nothing but the public welfare, CARTHAGINIANS. SIS tfaouf^t that ill so great a calamity, and so imminent a da^er, recourse must be had to extraordinary remedies. They therefore appoii ted Quintus Fabius dictator, a person as conspicuous for his wisdom as his birth. It was the cus- tom at Rome, that the moment a dictator was nominated, all authority ceased, that of the tribunes of the people excepted. M. Minucius was appointed his g^eneral of hor^e. We are now in the second year of the war. HANNIBAI^'S CONDUCT WITH RESPECT TO FABIUS. . Hannibal, after th< battle of Thrasymene, not thinking it yet proper to march directly to Rome, contented himself, in the mean time, with laying waste the country.* He crossed Umbria and Picenum ; and after ten days march, arrived in the territory of Adria.j He got a very considerable booty in this march. Out of his implacable enmity to the Romans, he commanded, that all who were able to bear arms should be put to the sword ; and meeting no obstacle any where, he advanced as far as Apulia, plundering the countries which lay in his way, and carrying desolation wherever he came, in order to compel the nations to disengage themselves from their alliance with the Ro- mans, and to show all Italy, that Rome itself, now quite dispirited, yielded him the victory. Fabius, followed by Minucius and four legions, had marched from Rome in quest of the enemy, but with a firm resolution not to let him take the least advantage, nor to advance one step, till he had first reconnoitered every place ; nor hazard a battle, till he should be sure of success. As soon as both armies were in sight, Hannibal, to terrify the Roman forces, offered them battle, by advancing almost to the intrenchments of their camp. But finding every thing quiet there, he retired ; blaming in appearance the outward cowardice of the enemy, whom he upbraided with having at last lost tliat valour so natural to their ancestors ; but fretting inwardly, to find he had to act with a general of so different a genius from Sempronius and Flaminius ; and that the Romans, instructed by their defeat, had at last made choice of a commander capable of opposing Hannibal. From this moment he perceived that the dictator would not be formidable to him by the boldness of his attacks, but by the prudence and regularity of his conduct, which might perplex and embarrass him very much. The only circumstance he now wanted to know was, whether the new general had reso- lution enough to pursue steadily the plan he seemed to have laid down. He endeavoured, therefore, to rouse him, by his frequent removals from place to place, by laying waste the lands, plundering the cities, and burning the vil- lages and towns. He, at one time, would raise his camp with the utmost pre- cipitation ; and at another, stop short in some valley out of the common route, to try whether he could not surprise him in the plain. However, Fabius still kept his troops on the hills, but without losing sight of Hannibal ; never ap- pioaching near enough to come to an engagement, nor yet keeping at such a distance, as might give him an opportunity of escaping him. He never suf- fered his soldiers to stir out of the camp, except to forage, and not even on those occasions without a numerous convoy. If ever he engaged, it was only in slight skirmishes, and so very cautiously, that his troops had always the ad. vantage. This conduct revived, by insensible degrees, the courage of the sol- diers, which the loss of three battles had entirely damped ; and enabled ihem to rely, as they had formerly done, on their valour and success. Hannibal, having got immensely rich spoils in Campania, where he had re lided a considerable time, left there with his army, that he might not consume Ihe provisions he had laid up, and which he reserved for the winter season. Besides he could no longer continue in a country of gardens and vineyards, which were more agreeaole to the eye, than useful for the subsistence of an army ; a country where he would have been forced to take up his winter-quarters * Pciyb. I. xxiii. p. 239 — ^255. Li v. 1. xxii. n. f —30. t A small town, which ^avc nwnr to the Adriatic se«. 220 HISTORY OF THE among qiar&hes, rocks, and sands ; whereas the Romans would have drawn pleift* iiful supplies from Capua, and the richest parts of Italy. He therefore resolved to settle elsev/hcre. Fabius naturally supposed that Hannibal would he obliged to return the same way he came, and that he might easily annoy him during his march. He began by throAving a considerable body of troops into Casilinum, thereby se curing that'SSnall town, situated on the Vulturnus, which separated the territorie? of Falernum. Item those of Capua ; he afterwards detached four thousand men, to seize the only narrow pass through which Hannibal could come out ; and then, according to his usual custom, posted himself with the remainder of the army on the hills adjoining the road. The Carthaginiaufs arrived, and encamped in the plain at the foot of the moun- tains. And now, the crafty Carthaginian fell into the same snare he had laid for Flaminius at the defile of Thrasymene ; and it seemed impossible for him e^er to extricate himself out of this difficulty, there being but one outlet, of which the Romans were possessed. Fabius, fancying himself sure of his prey, was only contriving how to seize it. He flattered himself with the probable hopes of putting an end to the w^ar by this single battle. Nevertheless, he Ihought fit to defer the attack till the next day. Hannibal perceived that his own artifices were now employed against him.* h is in such junctures as these, that a general has need of great presence of mind, and unusual fortitude, to view danger in its utmost extent, without being struck with the least dread ; and to find out sure and instant expedients, with- out deliberating. The Carthaginian general immediately caused two thousand oxen to be collected, and ordered small bundles of vine branches to be tied to their horns; He then commanded the branches to beset on fire in the dead of night, and the oxen to be driven with violence to the top of the hills, where the Romans were encamped. As soon as those creatures felt the flame, the pain putting them in a rage, they flew up and down on all sides, and set fire to the shrubs and bushes they met in their way. This squadron, of a new kind, was sustained by a good number of light-armed soldiers, who had orders to seize upon the summit of the mountain, and to charge the enemy in case they should meet them. All things happened which Hannibal had foreseen. The^ Romans, who guarded the defile, seeing the fires spread over the hills which were above them, and imagining that it was Hannibal making his escape by torch-light, quit their posts and run to the mountains to oppose his passage. The main body of the army not knowing what to think of all this tumult, and Fabius himself not daring to stir, as it was excessively dark, for fear of a sur- prise, waited for the return of the day. Hannibal seized this opportunity- marched his troops and the spoils through the defile, which was now unguarded, arid rescued his army out of a snare, in which, had Fabius been but a little more vigorous, it would either have been destroyed, or at least very much weaken- ed. It is glorious for a man to turn his very errors to his advantage, and make them subservient to his reputation. The Carthaginian army returned to Apulia, still pursued and harassed by the Romans. The dictator being obliged to take a journey to Rome, on ac- count of some religious ceremonies, earnestly entreated his general of horse, before his departure, not to fight during his absence. Minucius however did not regard either his advice or his entreaties, but the very first opportunity he had, while part of Hannibal's troops were foraging, charged the rest, and gained some advantage. He iir.mediately sent advice of this to Rome, as if he had obtained a considerable victory. The news of this, with what had just before happened at the passage of the defile, raised complaints and murmurs against the slow and timorous circumspection of Fabius. In a word, matters were carried so far, that the Roman people gave his general of horse an equal authority with him ; a thing unheard of before. The dictator was upon the road when he received advice of this, for he had left Rome, that he might noi N»c nn-bal^rn fef«'Hit sui? sc artibus poti. — I/iv. ^ CARTHAGINIANS. 221 be an eye-witness of wha rwas contriving against him. His constancy, hovveTer, was not shaken. He was very sensible, that though his authority in tiie com mind was divided, yet his skill in the art of war was not so.* This soon be c;.me manifest. Minucius, grown arrc^ant with the advantage he had gained over his col- league, proposed that each should command a day alternately, or even a longer time. But Fabius rejected this proposal, as it would have exposed the whole army to danger while under the command of Minucius. He therefore chose to divide the troops, in order that it 'might be in his power to preserve, at least, (hat part which should fall to his share. Hannibal, fully iniormed of all that passed in the Roman camp, was over- joyed to hear of this dissention oi the two comm.anders. He therefore laid a snare for the rash Minucius, who accordingly plunged headlong into it, and engaged the enemy on an eminence, in which an ambuscade was concealed. But his troops, being soon put into disorder, were just on the point of being cut to pieces, when Fabius, alarmed by the sudden outcries of the wounded, called aloud to his soldiers, Let us hasten to the assistance of Minucius ; let us fly and snatch the victory from the enemy, and extort from our fellow-citi- zens a confession of their fault." This succour was very seasonable, and com- pelled Hannibal to sound a retreat. The latter, as he was retiring, said, *'That the cloud which had been long hovering on the summit of the moun- tains, had at last burst with a loud crack, and caused a mighty storm." So important and seasonable a service rendered by the dictator, opened the eyes of Minucius. He accordingly acknowledged his error, returned immediately to his duty and obedience, and showed that it is sometimes more glorious to know how to atone for a fault, than to have committed it. THE STATE OF AFFAIRS IN SPAIN. In the beginning of this campaign, Cn. Scipio havmg suddenly attacked the Carthaginian fleet, commanded by Hamilcar, defeated it, and took twenty- five ships, with a great quantity of rich spoils.! This victory made the Romans sensible that they ought to be particularly attentive to the a^airs of Spain, because Hannibal could draw considerable supplies both of men and money from that countiy. Accordingly they sent a fleet thither^ the command of which was given to r. Scipio, who, after his arrival in Spain, having joined his brother, did the commonwealth very great service. Till that time the Romans had never ventured beyond the Ebro. They then were satisfied with having; gained the friendship of the nations situated between that river and Italy, and confirming it by alliances ; but under Publius, they crossed the Ebro, and carried their arms much farther up into the country. The circumstance which contributed most to promote their affairs, was the f?T.acliery of a Spaniard in Saguntum. Hannibal had left there the children o( the most distinguished families in Spain, whom he had taken as hostages. Abolox, (for so this Spaniard was called,) persuaded Bostar, the governor of (lie city, to send back these young men into their country, in order, by that means, to attach the inhabitants more firmly to the Carthaginian interest. He himself was charged with this commission ; but he carried them to the Rch mans, who afterwards delivered them to their relations, and by so acceptable a present, acquired their amity. THE BATTLE OF CANNiE. The next spring, C. Terentius Varro, and L. jEmilius Paulas, were chosen n nsuls at Rome.J: In this campaign, which was the third of the second Pu- Mic war, the Romans did what had never been practised before, viz. t/iey imposed the army of eight legions, each consisting of five thousand men, • S^tlis iidens haiidqnaqUnm cum imperii jure artem imperandi aequatam. — Liv. 1. xxii. n. 26 t Polyb. 1. iii. p. 24.5 — 250. Liv. 1. xxii. n. 19—22. I A ^r. 3~99. A. Rome. 53.1. Polyb- I. n5 p. 055—268. Liv. 1. xiii. n. 34—54. HISTORY OF THE exclusive of the allies. For, as we have already observed, the Romans nevef raised but four legions, each of which consisted of about four thousand foot, and three hundred horse.* They never, except on the most important occa- sions, made them consist of five thousand of the one, and four hundred of the other. As for the troops of the allies, the number of their infantiy, was equal to that of the legions, but they had three times as many horse. Each of the consuls had commonly half the troops of the allies, with two legions, that they might act separately ; and all these forces were very seldom used at the same time, and in the same expedition. Here the Romans had not only four, but eight legions, so important did the affair appear to them. The senate even thought proper that the two consuls of the foregoing year, Servilius and At- tilius, should serve in the army as proconsuls ; but the latter could not go into the field, in consequence of his great age. Varro, at his setting out from Rome, had declared openly that he would fall upon the enemy the very first opportunity, and put an end to the war ; adding, that it would never be terminated, as long as men of the character of Fabiuf should be at the head of the Roman armies. An advantage which he gained over the Carthaginians, of whom near seventeen hundred were killed, greatly increased his boldness and arrogance. As for Hannibal, he considered this loss as a real advantage, being persuaded that it would serve as a bait to the con- sul's rashness, and urge him on to a battle, which he anxiously desired. It was afterwards known, that Hannibal was reduced to such a scarcity of pro- ^.visions, that he could not possibly have subsisted ten days longer. The Spa- niards were already meditating to leave him. So that there would have been an end of Hannibal and his army, if his good fortune had not thrown a Varro in his way. Roth armies, having often removed from place to place, came in sight of each other near Cannae, a little town in Apulia, situated on the river Aufidus. As Hannibal was encamped in a level, open country, and his cavalry much su- perior to that of the Romans, ^milius did not think proper to engage in such a place. He was for drawing the enemy into an irregular spot, where the in- fantry might have the greatest share in the action. But his colleague, who was wholly inexperienced, was of a contrary opinion. Such is the disadvantage of a divided command ; jealousy, a difference of disposition, or a diversity of views, seldom failing to create a dissention between the two generals. The troops on either side were, for some time, contented with slight skir- mishes. But at last, one day when Varro had the command, for the two con- suls took it by turns, preparations were made on both sides for battle. jEmi- lius had not been consulted ; yet, though he extremely disapproved the con- duct of his colleague, as it was not in his power to prevent it, he seconded him to the utmost. Hannibal, after having pointed out to his soldiers that being superior in ca» valry, they could not possibly have pitched upon a better spot for fighting, had it been left to their choice, thus addressed them : *' Return thanks to the gods for having brought the enemy hither, that you may triumph over them; and thank me also for having reduced the Romans to the necessity of coming to an engagement. After three great victories, won successively, is not the remembrance of your own actions sufficient to inspire you with courage ? By lu^mer :attles, you are become masters of the open country, but this will put you in possession of all the cities, and, I presume to say it, of all the richef. and power of the Romans. It is not words that we want, but actions. I trust in the gods that you shall soon see my promises verified." The two armies were very unequal in number. That of the Romans, in- cluding the allies, amounted to fourscore thousand foot, and a little more than six thousand horse, and -that of the Carthaginians consisted but of forty thou* land foot, all well disciplined, and of ten thousand horse. iEmilius com- ♦ Polvbiut »uppose!i only two hundr«d bow» in «ach ; but J. Lipsius tliinki that tbit U a raiatake, •it]|«r M the autnor or transcribe* CARTHAGINIANS. 223 f) jr. led the right wing of th€ Romans, Varro the left, and Servilius, one of the c>, nsuls of the last year, wat posted in the centre. Hannibal, who had the ait of taking all advantages, had posted himself so that the wind Vultumus,* which rises at certain stated times, should blow directly in the faces of the Romans during the fight, and cover them with dust ; then keeping the river Aufidus on his left, and posting his cavalry in the wings, he formed his main b(>dy of the Spanish and Gallic infantry, which he posted in the centre, with halt the African heavy armed foot on their right, and half on the left, on the ^ame line with the cavalry. His army being thus drawn up, he put himself it the head of the Spanish and Gallic infantry ; and having drawn them out of he line, advanced to begin the battle, rounding his front as he advanced nearer he enemy ; and extending his flanks in the shape of a half-moon, in order that he might leave no interval between his main body and the rest of the line, which consisted of the heavy-armed infantry, who had not moved from their posts. The fight soon began, and the Roman legions that were in the wings, seeing their centre warmly attacked, advanced to charge the enemy in flank. Han- nibal's main body, after a brave resistance, finding themselves furiously at- tacked on all sides, gave way, being overpowered by numbers, and retired through the interval they had left in the centre of the line. The Romans having pursued them thither with eager confusion, the two wings of the Afri- can infantry, w^hich were fresh, well armed, and in good order, wheeled about on a sudden towards that void space in which the Romans, who were already fatigued, had thrown themselves in disorder, and attacked them vigorously on both sides, without leaving them time to recover themselves, or leaving them ground to form. In the mean time, the two wings of the cavalry, having de- bated those of the Romans, which were much inferior to them, and, in order to pursue the broken and scattered squadrons, having left only as many forces is were necessary to keep them from rallying, advanced and charged the rear )f the Roman infantry, which, being surrounded at once on every side by the anemy's horse and foot, w^as all cut to pieces, after having fought with unpar- alleled bravery. iEmilius, being covered with the wounds he had received in the fight, was afterwards killed by a body of the enemy, to whom he was not known; and with him two quaestors, one and twenty military tribunes, many who had been either consuls or praetors ; Servilius, one of the last year's consuls, Minucius, the late general of horse to Fabius, and fourscore senators. Above seventy thousand men fell in this battle ;t and the Carthaginians, so great was their fury,J did not give over the slaughter, till Hannibal, in the very heat of it, called out to them several times, Stop, soldiers ; spare the van- quished. Ten thousand men, who had been left to guard the camp, surren- dered themselves prisoners of war after the battle, varro, the consul, retired to Venusia, with only seventy horse ; and about four thousand men escaped into the neighbouring cities. Thus Hanntbal remained master of the field, h^. being chicfl}^ indebted for this, as well as for his former vie tories, to thp SI periority of his cavalry over that of the Romans. He lost four thousani Gauls, fifteen hundred Spaniards and Africans, and two hundred horse. Maharbal, one of the Carthaginian generals, advised Hannibal to marcr directly to Rome, promising him, that within five days they should sup in the capitol. Hannibal answering, that it was an affair which required mature ex- amination, " I see," replied, Maharbal, " that the gods have not endowed the same man with every talent. You, Hannibal, know how to conquer, but not to make the best use of a victory."§ * A violent burning wind, blowing south ?uuth-east, which, in this flat and sandy country, raised cloud» »f hot dust, and blinded and choked the Romans. t Livy lessens very much the number of the slain, making them amouet but to about foiwy three tbouMsd. But Polybius ought rather to be believed. I Duo maximi exercilus caesi ad hostium satietatem, donee Annlbal diccretmiliti sue, Parce ferro.— -Fh«. 1 !. c. 6. J Turn Maharbal : Nod omia nimirum eidem Dii dedcre- Vinccra tcit, Annibal. rictorii nti netCM.-*- f . 1. ziiT. n. 51. 524 HISTORY OF THE It is pretended that this delay saved Rome and the empire. ^ Many authors, and among them Livy, charge Hannibal, on this occasion, with bemg guWty of a capital error. But others, more reserved, are not for condemning, with* out evident proofs, so renowned a general, who, in the rest of his conduct, was never wanting, either in prudence to make choice of the best expedients, or in readiness to put his designs in execution. They are, moreover, inclined to judge favourably of him, from the authority, or at least the silence of Po- lybius, who, speaking of the memorable consequences of this celebrated bat tie, says, that the Carthaginians were firmly persuaded, that they should pos- sess themselves of Rome at the first assault ; but, then, he does not mention how this could possibly have been effected, as that city w^as very populous, warlike, strongly fortified, and defended with a garrison of two legions; nor does he any where give the least hint that such a project was feasible, or that f lannibal did wrong in not attempting to put it in execution. And, indeed, if we examine matters more narrowly, we shall find, that, ac- cording to the common maxims of war, it could not be undertaken. It is cer- tain that Hannibal's whole infantry, before the battle, amounted but to forty thousand men ; and as six thousand of these had been slain in the action, and doubtless many more either wounded or disabled, there could remain but six or seven-and-twenty thousand foot for service. Now this number was not suffi- cient to invest so large a city as Rome, which had a river running through it ; nor to attack it in form, because they had neither engines, ammunition, nor any other things necessary for cairyingon a siege.* For want of these, Hannibal, even after nis victory at Thrasvmene, miscarried in his attempt upon Spoletum ; and, soon after the battle of Cannae, was forced to raise the siege of Casili- num, though a city of little note or strength. It cannot be denied, that, had he miscarried on the present occasion, nothing less could have been expected, than that he must have been irrecoverably lost. However, to form a judg- ment of this matter, a man ought to be a soldier, and should perhaps have been upon the spot. This is an old dispute, on which none but those who are perfectly well skilled in the art of war should pretend to give their opinion. Soon after the battle of Cannse, Hannibal despatched his brother Magq, to Carthage, with the news of his victory ;t and at the same time to demand suc- cours, in order that he might be enabled to put an end to the war. Mago, on his arrival, made, in full senate, a lofty speech, in which he extolled his brother's exploits, and displayed the great advantages he had gained ever the Romans. And, to give a more lively idea of the greatness of the victory, by speaking in some measure to the eye, he poured out in the middle of the se- nate a bushel of gold rings,J which had been taken from the fingers of such of the Roman nobility as had fallen in the battle of Cannae. He concluded with demanding money, provisions, and fresh troops. All the spectators were struck with an extraordinary joy, upon which Imilcon, a w^arm advocate for Hannibal, fancying he now had a fair opportunity to insult Hanno, the chief of the opposite faction, nsked him, whether he was still dissatisfied with the war they were carrying on against the Romans, and was for having Hannibal de- livered up to them ? Hanno, without discovering the least emotion, replied, that he was still of the same mind, and that the victories they so much boast- f d, supposing them real, could not give him joy, but only in proportion as they should be made subservient to an advantageous peace ; he then under tr)ok to prove, that the mighty exploits, on which they insisted so much, were vyholly chimerical and imaginary. "I have cut to pieces," says he, con tinuing Mago's speech, " the Roman armies ; send me some troops. What more couJd you ask, had you been conquered ? I have twice seized upon the enemy's camp, full, no doubt, of provisions of every kind. — Send me provi • Liv. 1. xxii. n. 9. IbiJ. 1. xxiii. n. 18. | Liv. 1. xxiii. n. 11 — 14. X Pliny, 1. xxxiii. c. 1, says, that there were three bushels sent to Carthage. Livy observes, th«t lOlM Mtkjrt make th«m amount *.o three bushels and a half, but he thinks it most probkble that ther« Ixst •ai« i ixxUl. n. Vi. — Florui, I. ii. c. IG, makes it two biMbals. CAETWAGINIANB. 226 lions and money. Gould you have talked otherwise, had you lost your camp" He then asked Mago, whether any of the Latin nations were come over to Hannibal, and whether the Romans had made him any proposals of peace ? To this, Mage answering in the negative ; " I then perceive," replied Hanno, "that we are no farther advanced than when Hannibal first landed in Italy." The inference he drew from hence was, that neither men nor money ought to be sent. But Hannibal's faction prevailing at that time, no regard was paid toHanno's remonstrances, which were considered merely as the effect of pie - judice and jealousy ; and accordingly, orders were given for levying the sup- ph'es of men and money which Hannibal required. Mago set out immediately fijT Spain, to raise twenty-four thousand foot, and four thousand horse, in that country ; but these levies were afterwards stopped, and sent another way, so eager was the opposite faction to counteract the designs of a general whcm they utterly abhorred. In Rome, a consul who had fled was thanked because he had not despaired of the commonwealth ; but at Carthage, people were almost angry with Hannibal for being victorious.* Hanno could never forgive him the advantages he had gained in this war, because he had undertaken it in opposition to his counsel. Thus, being more jealous for the honour of his own opinions than for the good of his country, and a greater enemy to the Cartha- ginian general than to the Romans, he did all that lay in his power to prevent tuture successes, and to frustrate those already acquired. HANNIBAL TAKES UP HIS WINTER-QUARTERS IN CAPUA. The battle of Cannae subjected the most powerful nations of Italy to Han- nibaljt drew over to his interest Graecia Magna,! ^"^^^^ the city of Tarentum ; and so wrested from the Romans their most ancient allies, among whom the Capuans held the first rank. This city, by the fertility of its soil, its advan- tageous situation, and the blessings of a long peace, had risen to great wealth and power. Luxury, and a flow of pleasures, the usual attendants on wealth, had corrupted the minds of all its citizens, who, from their natural disposition, were but too much inclined to voluptuousness and all excesses. Hannibal made choice of this city for his winter-quarters. § Here it was that his soldiers, who had sustained the most grievous toils, and braved the most formidable dangers, were overthrown by delights and a profusion of all things, into which they plunged with the greater eagerness, as they, till then, had been strangers to them. Their courage was so greatly enervated in this bewitching retirement, that all their after efforts were owing rather to the fame and splendour of their former victories, than to theii present strength. When Hannibal marched his forces out of the city, they would have been taken for other men, and the reverse of those who had so lately marched into it. Ac- customed, during the v/inter season, to commodious lodgings, to ease and plenty, they were no longer able to bear hunger, thirst, long marches, watchings, and the other toils of war ; not to mention, that all obedience, all discipline, were entire)}^ laid aside. I only transcribe on this occasion from Livy, who, if he may be credited, thinks Hannibal's stay at Capua a reproach to his conduct ; and pretends th^t there he was guilty of an infinitely greater error, than when he neglected to march directly to Rome after the battle of Cannae. For this delay, says Livy, might seem only to have retarded his victory ; whereas this last misconduct rendered him absolutely incapable of ever defeating the enemy. || In a word, * De St. Evremond. t Liv. 1. iiiii. n. 4—18. % Casterum quiim Grasci omnem fere oram maritimam coloniis suis e Grascia deductis, obsiderent, Sc i. But after the Greeks had, by their colonies, possessed themselves of almost all the maritime coast, t/ il rery country, to'^cther with Sicily, was called Graecia Magna, &c. — Cluver. Geo^raph. 1. iii. c. 30. \ Ihi partem majorem hiemis exercitum in testis habuit; adversus omnia humana mala saepe ac diu d» iantem, bonis incxpertum atque insuetum. Itaque quos nulla mali vicerat vis, perdidere nimia bcua ac re- luctates immodicse, et co impensidus, quo avidius ex insolcotia in eas se mcrserant. — Liv. 1. xxiii. n. XI. I Ilia cnim cunctatio distulisse Cko^ victoriam videri potuit* kic error vires ademive ad TUiceBdtt8&.^ LHr. I. xxiii. Q. le. Vol. I. 336 HISTORY OP THE as Marcellus afterwards judiciously observed Capua tvas to the Carthaj^inum and their general, what Cannae had been to the Komans.* There their mar- tial genius, their love of discipline, *were lost: there their former fame, atMl their almost certain hopes of future glory, vanished at once. And, indeed, from thenceiorth the affairs of Hannibal rapidly advanced to their decline ; fortune declared in fa\ our of prudence, and victory seemed now reconciled to the Romans. I know not whether Livy has reason to impute all these fatal consequences to the delicious abode of Capua. If we examine carefully all the circumstances of this history, we shall be hardly able to persuade ourselves, that the little progress which was afterwards made by the arms of Hannibal ought to be as- cribed to Capua. It might, indeed, have been one cause, but this would be a very inconsiderable one : and the bravery with which the forces of Hannibal afterwards defeated the armies of consuls and praetors ; the towns they took , even in sight of the Romans ; their maintaining their conquests so vigorously, and staying fourteen yearsafter this in Italy, in spite of the Romans ; all these circumstances may induce us tc believe, that Livy lays too great a stress on the delights of Capua. ] The real cause of the decay of Hannibal's affairs was owing to his want of ' necessary recruits and succours from Carthage. After Mago's speech, the Carthaginian senate had judged it necessaiy, in order to carry on the conquests ' in Italy, to send thither a considerable reinforcement of Numidian horse, forty ' elephants, and a thousand talents ; and to hire, in Spain, twenty thousand foot, and four thousand horse, to reinforce their armies in Spain and Italy, t Mago however, could obtain an order but for twelve thousand foot, and two thousand five hundred horse : and even when he was just going to march to Italy with an army so much inferior to that which had been promised him, he was coun- termanded and sent to Spain. J So that Hannibal, after these mighty promises, had neither infantry, cavalry, elephants, nor money sent him, but was ^eft to his ov^^n resources. His army was now reduced to twenty-six thousand foot, and nine thousand horse. How could it be possible for him, with so inconsid erable an army, to seize, in an enemy's country, on all the advantageous posts; to awe his new allies, to preserve his old conquests, and form new ones ; and to keep the field with advantage against two armies of the Romans, which were recruited every year ? This was the true cause of the declension of Hannibal's affairs, and of the ruin of those of Carthage. Were the part where Polybius treats of this subject extant, we doubtless should find, that he \^ys a greater stress on this cause, than on the luxurious delights of Capua. THE TRANSACTIONS RELATING TO SPAIN AND SARDINIA. The two Scipios continued in the command of Spain, and their arms were making a considerable progress there, when Asdrubal, who alone seemed able to cope with them, received orders from Carthage to march into Italy to the relief of his brother.§ Before he left Spain, he wrote to the senate to con- vince them of the absolute necessity of their sending a general in his stead, H'ho possessed abilities adequate to oppose the Romans. Imilcon was there- fore sent thither with an army ; and Asdrubal commenced his march ir order to join his brother. The news of his departure was no sooner known than the greatest part of Spain was subdued by the Scipios. These two generals ani- mated by such signal success, resolved to prevent him, if possible, from leav- ing Spain. They considered the danger to which the Romans would be ex- posed, if, being scarce able to resist Hannibal only, they should be attacked by the two brothers at the head of two powerful armies. They therefore pursued Asdrubal, and coming up with him forced him to fight against his in- clination. Asdrubal was overcome ; and so lar from being able to continue • Capuam Annibali Cannas fuisse ; ibi virtulein bellicaxn, ibi milit ii riii iliiii ijiliiiiiiii. ilii frritrrifii ffHlfr tig fomam 6i sp9i. lAt »«ui. n. 96— fO. 9% 40, 41 ^ CARTHAGINIANS. 227 bis march for Italy, he found that it would be iinpossible for him to continue with any safety in Spain. The Carthaginians had no better success in Sardinia. Designing to take advantage of some rebellions they had fomented in that country, they lost twelve thousand men in a battle fought with the Romans, who took a still greater number of prisoners, among whom were Asdrubal, surnamed Calvus, fIanno,and Mago,* who were distinguished by their birth as well as military exploits. THE ILL SUCCESS OF HANNIBAL. THE SIEGES OF CAPUA AND ROME. From Hannibal's abode in Capua, the Carthaginian affairs in Italy no long:er supported their reputation.! M. Marcellus, first as praetor, and afterwards consul, had contributed very much to this revolution. He harassed HannibaTs army on every occasion, seized upon his quarters, forced him to raise sieg>;s, and even defeated him in several engagements ; so that he was called the sword of Rome., as Fabius had before been called its buckler. But what-most affected the Carthaginian general, was to see Capua besieged by the Romans.J In order, therefore, to preserve his reputation among his al- lies, by a vigorous support of those who held the chief rank as such, he flew to the relief of that city, brought forward his forces, attacked the Romans, and fought several battles to oblige them to raise the siege. At last, seeing all his measures defeated, he marched hastily towards Rome, in order to make a powerful diversion.§ He had some hopes, in case he could have an op- portunity, in the first consternation, to storm some part of the city, of draw- ing the Roman generals, with all their forces, from the siege of Capua, to the relief of their capital ; he flattered himself, at least, that if for the sake of continuing the siege, they should divide their forces, their weakness might then offer an occasion, either to the Capuans or himself, of engaging and defeating them.^ Rome was struck, but not confounded. A proposal being • made by one of the senators, to recall all the armies to succour Rome ; Fa- bias declared that it would be a disgrace for them to be terrified, and forced to change their measures, upon every motion of Hannibal. || They therefore contented themselves with only recalling part of the army, and one of the • generals, Q,. Fulvius, the proconsul, from the siege. Hannibal, after making some devastations, drew up his army in order of battle before the city, and the consul did the same. Both sides were preparing to signalize themselves in a battle, of which Rome was to be the recompense, when a violent storm obliged them to separate. They were no sooner returned to their respective camps, than the face of the heavens grew calm and serene. The same hap- pened frequently afterwards, insomuch that Hannibal, believing that there was something supernatural in the event, said, according to Livy, that sometimes nis own will, and sometimes fortune, would not suffer him to take Rome.H But the circumstance which most surprised and intimidated him, was the news that while he lay encamped at one of the gates of Rome, the Romans had sent out recruits for the army in Spain at another gate ; and at the same time disposed of the gronnd whereon he was encamped, notwithstanding which it had been sold for its full value, such open co itempt stung Hannibat to the quick : he, therefore, on the other hand, exposed to sale the shops of the gold- smiths round the forum. After this bravado he retired, and, in his march, plundered the rich temple of the goddess Feronia.** * Not HannibaPs brother, t A. M. 3791. A. Rome, 535. Liv. 1. xxiii. n. 41 — 46. 1. xxv. n. 5^2. 1. xxvi. n. 5—16. X A. M. 3793, A. Rome, 537. { A. M. 3794. A. Rome, 538. I) Flag^itiosum esse terreri ac circumagi ad omnes Aonibalis comminationes. — Liv. 1. xxvi. n. 8. IT Audita vox Annibalis fertur, potiundas tibi urbis Romae, modo mentem nondari, modo fortunam.— LiT« U xxvi. n. 11. Feronia was the t^oddess of g^roves. and there was one with a temple in it dedicated to her* at thm foot of the mountain Soracte, Strabo, speaking of the grove where this c^oddcss was worshipped, laj^ that a sacrifice was offered annnally to her in it ; and that her votaries, inspired by this goddess, wiJkW •nhurt over bnrning coals. There are still cstaat some medals of Au)fustiit, in which ^is (oddaii U fftm^ 228 HISTORY OF TnE Capua, thus left to itself, held out but very little ion«^cr. After such of its senators as had been principals in the revolt, and consequently could not ex- pect any quarter from the Romans, had put themselves to a truly tragical death,* the city surrendered at discretion. The success of this siege, which, by the happy consequences attending it, proved decisive, and gave the Ro- mans a visible superiority over the Carthaginians, displayed at the same time, how formidable the power of the Romans was,t when they undertook to punish their perfidious allies ; and the feeble protection which Hannibal could afford his friends, at a time when they most wanted it. THE DEFEAT AND DEATH OF THE TWO SCIPIOS IN SPAIN. The face of affairs was very much changed in Spain.J The Carthaginians had three armies in that country; one commanded by Asdrubal, the son of Gisco ; the second by Asdrubal, son of Hamilcar ; and a third under Mago, who had joined the first Asdrubal. The two Scipios, Cneus and Publius, were for dividing their forces, and attacking the enemy separately, which was the cause of their ruin: it accordingly was agreed that Cneus, with a small number of Romans, and thirty thousand Celtiberians, should march against Asdrubal the son of Hamilcar ; while Publius, with the remainder of the forces, composed of Romans and the allies of Italy, should advance against the other two generals. Publius was vanquished first. ^ Masinissa, elated with the victories he had lately obtained over Syphax, had joined the two leaders whom Publius was to oppose ; and was to be soon followed by Indibilis, a powerful Spanish prince. The armies came to an engagement. The Romans, being thus attacked on all sides at once, made a brave resistance as long as they had their general at their head ; but the moment he fell, the few troops which had escaped the slaughter, secured themselves by flight. The three victorious armies marched immediately in quest of Cneus, In order to put an end to the war by his defeat. He was already more than half vanquished, by the desertion of his allies, who all forsook him, and left to the Roman generals this important instruction, viz. never to let their own forces be exceeded in number by those of foreigners.§ He had reason to believe that his brother was slain, and his army defeated, on seeing such great bodies of the enemy arrive. He survived him but a short time, being killed in the en gagement. These two great men were equally lamented by their citizens and allies; and the Spaniards bewailed their memory on account of the jus- tice and moderation of their conduct. These extensive countries seemed now inevitably lost , but the valour of L. Marcius,|| a private officer of the equestrian order, preserved them to the Romans. Shortly after this, the younger Scipio was sent thither, who fully avenged the death of his father and uncle, and restored the affairs of the '^-O- mans in Spain to their former flourishing condition. THE DEFEAT AND DEATH OF ASDRUBAL. One unforeseen defeat ruined all the measures, and blasted all the hopes U Hannibal with regard to Italy. IT The consuls of this year, which was tte * Villius Virius, the chief of this conspiracy, mfter having represented to the Capuan senate, the screw treatment which his country might expect from the Aomans, prevailed upon tvrenty-seven senators to g< with him to his own house, where, after eating- a plentiful »I jaoer, and heating themselves with wine, thej all drank poison. Then, taking their last farewell, some withdrew to their own houses, others staid will. Virius; and all expired before the gates were opened to the Romans. — L.'.v 1. xxvi. n. IS, 14. I Confessio expressa hosti, quanta vis in Romanis ad expetendas poenas ab i.i£^«libus sociis, et quen nihil in Annibale auxilii ad receptos in iidem tuendos asset. — Liv. 1. xxvi. n. 16. X A. M. 3793. A. Rome, 537. Liv. 1. xxv. n. 32—39. } Id quidem cavendum semper Romanis ducibus erit, exemplaque hasc vere pro documentlshabenda. N" Ita cxternis credant auxiHii3,ut non plus sui roboris suarumque proprie virium in castris habeant. — Liv. n. 3r II He attacked the Carthaginians, who had divided themselves into two camps, and were secure, ai th« ♦ thought, from any immediate attempt of the Romans; killed thirty-seven thousand of them; took lb*iM&Dd eight hundred prisoners, and brought off immense plunder. — Lir. 1. xxv. n. 39. T A. M. 37W A. R»me. 542. Polyb. 1. »i. p. 65«— f>25. tW. ]. xxvii. p. 35—39, ."il CARTHAGINIANS. elerenlh of the second Punic war, (for I pass over several events for brevity's sake,) were C. Claudius Nero and M. Livius. The latter haa for his province Cisalpine Gaul, where he was to oppose Asdrubal, who, it was reported, was preparing to pass the Alps. The fornner commanded in the country of the Brutians and in Lucania, that is, in the opposite extremity of Italy, and was there making head against Hannibal. The passage of the Alps gave Asdrubal very little trouble, because his bro- ther had cleared the way for him, and all the nations were disposed to receive him. Some time after this he despatched couriers to Hannibal, but they^vere intercepted. Nero found by their letters, that Asdrubal was hastening to join his brother in Umbria. In a conjuncture of so delicate and important a nature as this, when the safety of Rome lay at stake, he thought himself at liberty (o dispense with the established rules of his duty, for the welfare of h].« countiy.* In consequence of this, it was his opinion, that such a bold and un* expected blow ought to be struck, as might be capable of terrifying the enemy, by marching to the relief of his colleague, in order to charge Asdrubal unex- pectedly with their united forces. This design, if the several circumstances of it be thoroughly examined, will appear exceedingly remote from imprudence. To prevent the two brothers from joining their armies, was to save the state. Veiy little would be hazarded, even though Hannibal should be informed of the absence of the consul. From his army, which consisted of forty-two thou- sand men, he drew out but seven thousand for his own detachment, which indeed w^ere the flower of his troops, but at the same time, a very inconsider- able part of them. The rest remained in the camp, which was advantageously situated, and strongly fortified. Now, could it be supposed that Hannibal would attack, and force a camp, defended by thirty-five thousand men ? Nero set out, without giving his soldiers the least notice of his design. When he advanced so far, that it might be communicated without any danger, he told them, that he was leading theni to certain victory ; that in war all things de- pended upon reputation ; that the bare rumour of their arrival would discon- cert all the measures of the Carthaginians ; and that the whole honour of this battle would fall to them. They marched with extraordinary diligence, and joined the other consul in the night, but did not encamp separately the better to impose upon the enemy. The troops on their arrival joined those of Livius. The army of Fortius the praetor was encamped near that of the consul, and in the morning a council of war was held. Livius was of opinion, that it might be proper to allow the troops some days to refresh themselves, but Nero besought him not to ruin, by delay, an enterprise to which despatch only could give success ; and to take advantage of the error of the enemy, absent as well as present. This advice was com- plied with, and accordingly the signal for battle was given. Asdrubal, ad- vancing to his foremost ranks, discovered by several circumstances, that fresh troops were arrived ; and he did not doubt but that they belonged to the other consul. This made him conjecture that his brother had sustained a consider- able loss, and, at the same time, fear that he was come too late to his assistance. After making these reflections, he caused a retreat to be sounded and his army began to march in great disorder. Night overtaking him, and his guides deserting, he was uncertain which way to go. He marched at random alone; the banks of the river Metaurus,! and was preparing to cross it, when the three armies of the enemy came up with him. In this extremity, he saw it would be impossible for him to avoid coming to an engagement ; and therefore did every thing which could be expected from the presence of mind and valour of a great captain. He seized an advantageous post, and drew up his forces on a narrow spot, which gave him an opportunity of posting his left wing, the ireakest part of his army, in such a manner, that it could neither be atudud general was allowed to leave his own province, to ga ieto that of a—lfcUu3 lia»,c corpore. vuiruque ila 1 ■ to. ut vii iSit jair ciederes. dicobal. — I/iv. 1 xxx. n. 3-2. 234 HISTORV OP THE place appointed, and sued for peace in the most submissive term?;. He then caJled a council, the majority of which was for razing Carthage, and treating the imiabitants with the utmost severity. But the consideration of the time which must necessarily be employed before a city so strongly fortified could be taken, and Scipio's fear that a successor to him might be appointed while he should be employed in the «?iege, made him incline to clemency. A PEACl CONCLUDED BETWEEN THE CARTHAGINIANS AND THE ROMANS. THE END OF THE SECOND PUNIC WAR. The conditions of the peace dictated by Scipio to the Carthaginians were, " that the Carthaginians were to continue free, and preserve their ^aws, their territories, and the cities they possessed in Africa before the war ;^ that they should deliver up to the Romans all deserters, slaves, and captives belonging to them ; all their ships, except ten triremes ; all their tame elephants, and that they should not train up any more for war ; that they should not mhke war ' out of Africa, nor even in that countr^^ without first obtaining leave for that purpose from the Roman people ; should restore to Masinissa all they had ' taken from him or his ancestors; should furnisii money and corn to the Roman i auxiliaries, till their ambassadors should be returned from Rome ; should pay j to the Romans ten thousand Euboic talentsj of silver, in fifty annual payments ; and give a hundred hostages, who should be nominated by Scipio. And in , order that they might have time to send to IJome, it was agreed to grant them , a truce, upon condition that they should restore the ships taken during the for- , mer war, without which they were not to expect either a truce or a peace.'* When the deputies returned to Carthage, they laid before the senate the conditions dictated by Scipio. But they appeared so intolerable to Gisco, ' that rising up, he made a speech, in order to dissuade the citizens from accept- ; ing a peace on such shameful terms. Hannibal, provoked at the calmness ' with which such an orator was heard, took Gisco by the arm, and dragged | him from his seat. A behaviour so outrageous, and so remote from the man- | ners of a free city, like Carthage, raised an universal murmur. Hannibal was j vexed with himself when he reflected on what he had done, and immediately [ made an apology for it. " As 1 left," says he, "your city at nineyears of age, | and did not return to it till after thirty-six years absence, I had lull leisure to ! learn the arts of war, and flatter myself that I have made some improvement in them. As for your laws and customs, it is no wonder I am ignorant of them, and I therefore desire you to instruct me in them." He then expatiated on the necessity they were under of concluding a peace. He added, that they ought to thank the gods for having prompted the Romans to grant them a peace even on these conditions. He urged on them the importance of their uniting in opinion, and of not giving an opportunity, by their divisions, for the people to take an alfair of this nature under their cognizance. The v»^hole city came over to his opinion, and accordingly the peace was accepted. The senate made Scipio satisfaction with regard to the ships demanded by him, and after obtaining a truce for three months, sent ambassadors to Rome. These Carthag'nians, who were all venerable for their years and dignity, were admitted immediately to an audience. Asdrubal, surnamed Hcedus, who was still an irreconcileable enemy to Hannibal and his faction, spoke first : ai>d * Polyb. 1. xr. p. 704—707. Liv. 1. xxx. n. 36—44. t Ten thousand Attic talents make thirty millions French money. Ten thousand Euboic talents make something more than twenty-eight millions, thirty-three thousand livrei ; because, acording; to Budaeus, the Euboic talent is e(iuivalent but to fifty-six Minae and something more, whereat the Attic talent is wortli sixty Minae. • Or otherwise thus calculated in English money: According to Budaeus, the Euboic talent is 56 Minas. 66 Min^ reduced to English money L. 175, or $777. Consequently 10,000 Euboic talents make » L. 1,750,000, or ^7,770,000. So that the Carthaginians paid annually L. 35,000, or $155,400. This calculation is as near the truth as it can we.l be brought, the Euboic talent being something mmm tkac&6Min«B. CARTHAGINIANS. 95* after harmg excused, to the best his power, the people of Carthage, by im- puting the rupture to the ambition of some particular persons, he added, that had the Carthaginians listened to his counsels and those of Hanno, they would have been able to grant the Romans the peace for which they now were obliged to sue. " But," continued he, "wisdom and prosperity are very rarely found together. The Romans are invincible, because they never suffer themsplfes to be blinded by good fortune. And it would be surprising should the} act otherwise. Success dazzles those only to whom it is new and unusual, whereas the Romans are so much accustomed to conquer, that they are almost msensible to the charms of victory ; and it may be said for their glory, that they have ex- tended their empire, in some measure, more by the humanity they have shown to the conquered, than by conquest itself."* The other ambassadors spoke with a more plaintive tone of voice, and represented the calamitous state to which Carthage was about to be reduced, and the grandeur and power from which she had fallen. The senate and people, being equally inclined to peace, sent full powers to Scipio to conclude it, left the conditions to that general, and permitted him to march back his army, after the treaty should be ratified. The ambassadors desired leave to enter the city to redeem some of their prisoners, and they found about two hundred whom they desired to ransom. But the senate sent them to Scipio, with orders that they should bo restored without any pecuniary consideration, in case a peace should be concluded. The Carthaginians, on the return of the ambassadors, concluded a peace with Scipio on the terms he himself had prescribed. They then delivered up to him more than five hundred ships, all which he burnt in sight of Carthage ; a lamentable sight to the inhabitants of that ill-fated city ! He struck off the heads of the allies of the Latin name, and hanged all the citizens who were surrendered tohim^ as deserters. When the time for the payment of the first tax imposed by the treaty was expired, as the funds of the government were exhausted "by this long and ex- pensive war, the difficulty which would be found in levying so great a sum, threw the senate into a melancholy silence, and many could not refrain even from tears. It is said, that at this Hannibal laughed, and when reproached by Asdrubal Hoedus, for thus insulting his country in the affliction which he had brought upon it, "were it possible," says Hannibal, " for my heart to be seen, and that as clearly as my countenance, you would then find that this laughter, which offends so much, flows not from an intemperate joy, but from a mind almost distracted with the public calamities. But is this laughter more unseasonable than your unbecoming tears ? Then, ought you to have wept, when your arms were in- gloriously taken fromj^ou, your ships burned, and you were forbidden to en- gage in any foreign wars. This was the mortal blow which laid us prostrate. We are sensible of the public calamity so far only as we have a personal con- cern in it, and the loss of our money gives us the most poignant sorrow. Hence it was, that when our city was made the spoil of the victor ; when it was left disarmed and defenceless amidst so many powerful nations of Africa, who had at that time taken the field, not a groan, not a sigh was heard. But now, when Tou are called on for a poll-tax you weep and lament, as if all were lost. Alas I only wish that the subject of this day's fear do not soon appear to you the « least of your misfortunes." Scipio, after all things were concluded, embarked to return to Italy. He arrived at Rome through crowds of people, whom curiosity had drawn toge- ther to behold his march. The most magnificent triumph that Rome had eve? seen was decreed him, and the surname of Africanus was bestowed upon that * Raro simiil hominibiis bonam fortunam bonamque mentem dari. Populum Romanum ec invictum esse quod in secundls rebus sapere et consulere meminerit. Et hercle mirandum fuii^se si aliter facerent. Ex it, folentia, quibus nova bona fortnna sit, impotenles laetilias insanire-, populo Romano usitata ac rpope obw. leta cx victoria gaudia esse ; ac plu pene parcendo viclls, quam vincendo, imperium auxisse. — Liv. 1. xxit o 936 HISTORY OF THE great man ; an honour till then unknown, no person before him havii^ assumed the name of a vanquished nation. Such was the conclusion of the second Pu- nic war, after having" lasted seventeen years.* A. SHORT REFLECTION ON THE GOVERNMENT OF CARTHAGE, IN THE TIME * OF THE SECOND PUNIC WAR, I SH4LL concludu ♦he particulars which relate to the second Punic war, with a reflection of Polybius, which will show the difference between the two com- monwealths.! It may be affirmed, in some measure, that at the beginning of the second Punic war, and in Hannibal's time, Carthage was in its decline. The flower of its youth, and its sprightly vigour, were already diminished, (t had begun to fall from its exalted pitch of power, and was inclining towards its ruin ; whereas Rome was then, as it were, in its bloom and strength of life, and rapidly advancing to the conquest of the universe. The reason of the declension of the one, and the rise of the other, is taken by Polybius from the different form of government established in these commonwealths, at the time we are ilow speaking of. At Carthage, the common people had seized upon the sovereign authority with regard to public affairs, and the advice of their ancient men, or magistrates, was no longer listened to ; all affairs w^ere trans- acted by intrigue and cabal. Not to mention the artifices which the faction opposea to Hannibal employed, during the whole time of his command, to perplex him ; the single instance of burning the Roman vessels during a truce, a perfidious action to which the common people compelled the senate to lend their name and assistance, is a proof of Polybius' assertion. On the contraiy, at this very time, the Romans paid the highest regard to their senate, that is, to a body composed of the greatest sages ; and their old men -were listened to and revered as oracles. It is well known that the Roman people were ex- ceedingly jealous of their authority, and especially in that part of it which related to the election of magistrates.^; A century of young men, who by lot were to give the first vote, which generally directed all the rest, had nomi- nated two consuls. On the bare remonstrance of Fabius,§ who represented to the people, that in a tempest, like that with which Rome was then strug gling, the most able pilots ought to be chosen to steer their common ship, the re-^ public ; the century returned to their suffrages, and nominated other consuls. Polybius, from this disparity of government, infers that a people, thus guided by the prudence of old men, could not fail of prevailing over a state which was governed wholly by the giddy multitude. And indeed, the Romans un- der the guidance of the wise counsels of their senate gained at last the supe- riority with regard to the war considered in general, though they were defeated in several particular engagements, and established their power and grandeur on the ruin of their rivals. THE INTERVAL BETWEEN THE SECOND AND THIRD PUNIC WAR. The events relating to Carthage during this period, are not very remarka- *:[e, although it includes more than fifty years. They may be reduced to two beads, one of which relates to the person of Hannibal, and the other to some particular differences between the Carthaginians and Masinissa, king of the . fumidians. We shall treat both separately, but not extensively. section I. — CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF HANNIBAL. When the second Punic war was ended, by the treaty of peace concluded urith Scipio, Hannibal, as he himself observed in the Carthaginian senate, waf * A. M. 3804. A. Garth. 646. A. Rome, 548. Ant. J. C. 200. t Lib. vi. p. 493, 494. _ + Liv. 1. xxiv. n. 8, 9. \ (iuilibet nautarum rectorumquc tranquillo mari g-ubernare potest; ubi saeva orta tempestas est, ac tUf bato mari rapitur vento navis, turn viro et gubernatore opus est. Non tranquilJo navigamuR, sed jam ali l[uot proccllis submersi pene sumtis. Itaque quis ad gubernacula esdeat summa cura provideDdum ac pni fesvanduro nobis eit. CARTHAGINIANS. 237 ^3rty-five years of age. What we have further tc sa}' of this great man, in- cluaes the space of twenty-five years. HANNIBAL UNDERTAKES AND COMPLETES THE REFORMATION OF THE CCURTIk OF JUSTICE, AND THE TREASURY OF CARTHAGE. After the conclusion of the peace, Hannibal, at least in the beginning, was yreatly respected in Carthage, where he filled the first employnients of the itate with honour and applause. He headed the Carthaginian forces in some vars against the Africans : but the Romans, to whom the very name of Han- aibalgave uneasiness, discontented at seeing him in arms, made complaints on hat account, and accordingly he was recalled to Carthage.* On his return he was appointed praetor, which seems to have been a very considerable employment, as well as of great authority.! Carthage is there- ore, witli regard to him, becoming a new theatre, as it were, on which he wiL vlisplay virtues and qualities of a quite different nature from those we have l.itherto admired in him, and which will finish the picture of this illustrious man. Eagerly desirous of restoring the affairs of his afflicted country to their for- mer happy condition, he was persuaded, that the two most powerful methods to make a state flourish were, an exact and equal distribution of justice to the people in general, and a faithful management of the publ'c finances. The former, by preserving an equality among the citizens, and making them enjoy such a delightful, undisturbed liberty, under the protection of the laws, as fully secures their honour, their lives and properties, unites the individuals of the commonwealth more closely together, and attaches them more firmly to the state, to which they owe the preservation of all that is most dear and valu- able to them. The latter, by a faithful administration of the public revenues, supplies punctually the several wants and necessities of the state, keeps in reserve a never-failing resource for sudden emergencies, and prevents the peo- ple from being burdened with new taxes, which are rendered necessary by extravagant profusion, and which chiefly contribute to make men harbour afs aversion for government. Hannibal saw with great concern, the irregularities which had crept equally into the administration of justice and the management of the finances. Upon his being nominated proetor, as his love for regularity and order made him un- easy at every deviation from it, and prompted him to use his utmost endea- vours for its restoration ; he had the courage to attempt the reformation of this double abuse, which drew after it a numberless multitude of others, wilh- dut dreading either the animosity of the old faction that opposed him, or the new enmity which his zeal for the republic must necessarily create. The judges exercised the most cruel rapine with impunity. J They were so many petty tyrants, who disposed, in an arbitrary manner, of the lives and fortunes of the citizens, without there being the least possibility of putting a stop to their injustice. Because they held their commissions for life, and mu- tually supported one another. Hannibal, as praetor, summoned before his tri* bunal an officer belonging to the bench of judges, who openly abused his power, Livy tells us that he was a quaestor. This officer, who was in the opposite faction to Hannibal, and had already assumed all the pride and haughtiness of the judges among whom he was to be admitted at the expiration of his pre «ent office, insolently refused to obey the summons. Hannibal was not of h disposition to suffer an affront of this nature tamely. Accordingly, he caused ^im to be seized by a lictor, and brought him before the assembly of the peo- ple. There, not satisfied with levelling his resentment against this single of- ficer, he impeached the whole bench of judges : whose insupportable and tj'iannicai pride v/as not restrained, either by the fear of the laws, or a reve- r«;nce for the magistrates. And, as Hannibal perceived that he was heard with pleasure, and that the lowest and most inconsiderable of the people duh * Corn. Nep. in Annib. c 7. f A. M. 3810. A. Rome, 564, J Liv. 1. xxxiii. d 46. 538 HISTORY OF THE oovered on this occasion that they were no longer able to bear the insofei* pride of these judges, who seemed to have a design upon their liberties ; he proposed a law, which accordingly passed, by which it was enacted, that new judges should be chosen annually ; with a clause that none should continue in office beyond that term. This law, at the same time that it acquired him the friendship and esteem of the people, drew upon him proportionably the hatred of the greatest part of the grandees and nobility. He attempted another reformation, which created him new enemies, but gained him great honour.* The public revenues were either squandered away by the negligence of those who had the management of them, or were plun- dered by the chief men of the city, and the magistrr>tes ; so that money being > wanted to pay the annual tribute due to the Romans, the Carthaginians were going to levy it upon the people in general. Hannibal, entering into a full de- tail of the public revenues, ordered an exact estimate to be laid before him , inquired in what manner they had been applied to the employments and ordi- nary expenses of the state ; and having discovered by this inquiry, that the public funds had been in a great measure embezzled by the fraud of the offi- cers who had the management of them, he declared and promised, in a full assembly of the people, that without laying any new taxes upon individuals, the republic should hereafter be enabled to pay the tribute due to the Romans ; and he was as good as his word. The farmers of the revenues, whose plunder and rapine he had publicly detected, having accustomed themselves hitherto to fatten upon the spoils of their country, exclaimed vehemently against these regulations, as if their own property had been forced out of their hands, and not the sums of which they had defrauded the public. THE RETr^'AT AND DEATH OF HANNIBAL. This double reformation o* abuses raised great clamours against Hannibal. J; His enemies were writing incessantly to the chief men, or their friends, at Rome, to inform them, that he was carrying on a, secret correspondence with Antiochus, king of Syria ; that he frequently received couriers from him ; and that this prince had privately despatched agents to Hannibal, to concert with him measures for carrying on the war he was meditating : that as some ani- mals are so extremely fierce, that it is impossible ever to tame them ; in like manner, this man was of so turbulent and implacable a spirit, that he could not brook ease, and therefore would, sooner or later, break out again. These informations were listened to at Rome ; and as the transactions of the preced- ing war had been begun and carried on almost solely by Hannibal, they ap- peared the more probable. However, Scipio strongly opposed the violent measures which the senate were about to take on their receiving this intelli gence, by representing it as derogatory to the dignity of the Ron^an people, to countenance the hatred and accusations of Hannibal's enemies ; to support, with their authority, their unjust passions ; and obstinately to pursue him even to the very heart of his country ; as though the Romans had not humbled iiim sufficiently, in driving him out of the field, and forcing him to lay down his arms. But, notwithstanding these prudent remonstrances, the senate appointed three commissions to go and make their complaints to Carthage, and to demand that Hannibal should be delivered up to them. On their arrival in that city, though other things were speciously pretended, yet Hannibal was perfectly sensible that he only was the object. The evening being come, he con\eyed himself on board a ship, which he had secretly provided for that purpose ,• on which occasion he bewailed his country's fate more than his own. Sapius patricB quam suos eventus miseratus. This was the eighth year after the con- clusion of the peace. The first place he landed at was Tyre, where he was * Liv. 1. xxxiii. r. 46, 47. I Tain rero itti quos parerat per aliquot annos publlcus peculatus, relut bonis creplis, non furto eonat VM2wbus extorto, incenii ct irati, KomaDos in Annlbalcm, et ipsos causain odii quaerentes, instiyabant •-Liv. I Liv. 1. xxxiii. n. 45 — 49. CARTHAGINIANB. 239 im'eived as in his second countiy, and had all the honours paid him which Were due to his exalted merit. After staying some days here, he set out for Antioch, which the king had lately left, and from thence waited i/pon him at Ephesus.* The arrival of so renowned a general gave great pleasure to the king, and did not a little contribute to determine him to engage in war against Rome ; for hitherto he had appeared wavering and uncertain on that head. In this city, a philosopher, who was looked upon as the greatest orator of Asia, Ibad the imprudence to harangue before Hannibal on the duties of a general^ ind the rules of the military art.t The speech charmed the whole audience. But Hannibal, being asked his opinion of it, " I have seen," says he, "many )ld dotards in my ?ife, but this exceeds them all. "J The Carthaginians, justly fearing that Hannibal's escape would certainly Iraw upon them the arms of the Romans, sent them advice that Hannibal was tvithdrawn to Antiochus.§ The Romans were very much disturbed at this news, and the king jnight have turned it extremely to his advantage, had he known how to make a proper use of it. The first counsel that Hannibal gave him at this time, and which he fre- quently repeated afterwards, was, to make Italy the seat of war.|| He required a hundred ships, eleven or tw^elve thousand land-forces, and offered to take upon himself the command of the fleet ; to cross into Africa, in order to en- gage the Carthaginians in the war ; and afterwards to make a descent upoi> Italy, during which the king himself should be ready to cross over with hif army into Italy, whenever it should be thought convenient. This was the only thing proper to be done, and the king very m^uch approved the proposal at first Hannibal thought it would be expedient to prepare his friends at Carthage in order to engage them the more strongly in his interesl.U The communica tion by letters is not only unsafe, but also gives an imperfect idea of things and is never sufficiently particular He therefore despatched a trusty persoii with ample instructions to Carthage. This man had no sooner arrived in the city, than his business was suspected. Accordingly, he was watched and fol- lowed ; and at last orders were issued for his being seized. He, however, prevented the vigilance of his enemies, and escaped in the night ; after hav- ing fixed, in several public places, papers, which fully declared the occasion of his coming among them. The senate immediately sent advice of this to the Romans. Villius, one of the deputies who had been sent into Asia, to inquire into the state of affairs there, and, if possible, to discover the real designs of Antiochus, found Hannibal in Ephesus.*"* He had many conferences with him, paid him 5everal visits, and speciously affected to show him a particular esteem en all occasions. But his chief aim, by all this artificial behaviour, was to make him be suspected, and to lessen his credit w^ith the king, in which he succeeded but too well. ft Some authors affirm, that Scipio was joined in this embassy : and they even relate the conversation which that general had with Hannibal.jJ They tell us * A. M. 3812. A. Rome, 556. t Cic. de Orat. 1. ii. n. 75, 76. X Hie Posnus libere respondisse fertur, multos se deliros senes ssepe vidisse : sed qui magis quam Phor- mio deliraret vidisse neminem. Stobasus, Serm. lii. gives the following account of this matter: 'Avvi'€o\ Akovcas StoVxS ti'voj iTrixEfjSvTOJ 8n 6 a-o(p6s }i6vos (Tr$arr\'yos larlv, lyiXacri. vo^i^wv d^uvarov fTvou ixr^s rris 5\ "y^cov i^nei^ias Tnv iv toutoij fmo-TripiEv ix^iv- u e. Hannibal, hearing a Stoic philo»ophc'» undertake to prove that the wise man was the only e:eneral, laughed, as thinking it impossible for a man %o have any skill in war, without being long practised in it. j They did more, for they sent two ships to pursue Hannibal, and bring him back ; they sold off hii foods, razed his house, and, by a public decree, declared him an exile. Such was the gratitude the Cm»- thaginiaas showed to the greatest general they ever had.— Com. Nep. in Vita Annib. c. 7. )| Liv. 1. xxxiv. n. 60. IT Ibid. b. 61. **A. M. 3813. A. Rome, 557. Liv. 1. xxxv. n. 14, Polyb. 1. iii. p. 166, 167. ft Polybius represents this application of Villius to Hannibal, as a premeditated design, io order to Mnder him suspected to Antiochus, because of his intimacy with a Roman. Livy owns, that the tJ^mk Mcceeded as if it had been designed ; but, at the same time, he gives, for a very obvious reatoo, aactlier mra to this conversation, and says that no more was intended by it than to sound Hmsaihal, and to remoTt My fears or apprehensions he might be under from the Romans. tt I>«v. 1. xxsr. n. 24. Plutarch, in Vita. Flamin. b.z. 340 HtSTORY OF THE that the Roma i having asked him, who, ic jiiS opinion, was the greatest cap. tain that had ever lived ; he answered, Alexander the Great, oecause, with i handful of Macedonians, he had defeated numberless armies, and carried his conquests into countries so very remote, that it seemed scarcely possible foi any man only to travel so far. Being afterwards asked, to whom he gave the second rank ; he answered, to Pyrrhus, for this king, says Hannibal, first un derstood the art of pitching a camp to advantage ; no commander had ever made a more judicious choice of his posts, was better skilled in drawing up his forces, or was more happy in winning the affection of foreign soldiers ; in- somuch that even the people of Italy were more desirous to have him for their governor than the Romans themselves, though they had S'_ long been subject to them. Scipio proceeding, asked him next, whom he looked upoi i as the third captain ; on which decision Hannibal made no scruple to give the pre- ference to himself. Here Scipio could not forbear laughing : " but what would you have said," continued Scipio, " had you conquered me I would,'* replied HannilDal, " have ranked myself above Alexander, Pyrrhus, and all the generals the world ever produced.*' Scipio was not insensible to so re fined and delicate a flattery, which he by no means expected ; and which, bj giving him no rival, seemed to insinuate, that no captain was worthy of being put in comparison with him. ' The answer, as told by Plutarch,* is less witty, and not so probable. In , this author, Hannibal gives Pyrrhus the first place, Scipio the second, and him self the third. Hannibal, sensible of the coldness with which Antiochus received him ever since his conferences with Villius or Scipio, took no notice of it for some time, and seemed insensible of it. But at last he thought it adviseable to come to an explanation with the king, and to open his mind freely to him, " the hatred," says he, " which I bear to the Romans, is k^jown to the whole world. I bound myself to it by an oath, from my most tender infancy. It was this hatred that made me draw the sword against Rome during thirty-six years. It was that, even in times of peace, which drove me from my native country, and forced \ me to seek an asylum in your dominions. For ever guided and fired by the \ same passion, should my hopes be eluded, I will fly to every part of the globe, j and rouse up all nations against the Romans. 1 hate them, will hate them i eternally ; and know that they bear me no less animosity. So long as you shall < continue in the resolution to take up arms against that people, you may rank ITannibal in the number of your best friends. But if other counsels incline you to peace, I declare to you once for all, address yourself to others for coun- sel, and not to me." Such a speech, which came from his heart, and expressed the greatest sincerity, struck the king, and seemed to remove all his suspicions , so that he now resolved to give Hannibal command of part of his fleet.t Rut, what mischief is beyond the power of flattery to produce in courts, and in the minds of princes? Antiochus was told, "that it was imprudent in him to jjui so much confidence in Hannibal, an exile, a Carthaginian, whose for- tune or genius might suggest, in one day, a thousand different projects to hi n ; that besides, this very fame which Hannibal had acquired in war, and wh Dh he considered as his peculiar inheritance, was too great for a man who fought 4 only under the ensigns of another ; that none but the king ought to be the gene- I ral and conductor of the war ; and that it was incumbent on him to draw upon m himself only the eyes and attention of all men ; whereas, should Hannibal be I emploved, he, a foreigner, would have the glory of all victories ascribed to .|| him. "J Nominds^ says Livy on the occasion, are more susceptible of envy, than those whose merit is below their birth and dignity ; such persons always abhorring virtue and worth in others, for this reason only, because they art strange and foreign in themselves,^ This observation was fully verified on • Plut. IB Pyrrho, p. 687. -f Liv. lib. xxxv. n. 19. X Liv. 1. xxxv. n. 42, 43. I Nulla ing^enia tarn prona ad invidiam lunt, quam eorum qui f enus ac fortunam suaia animis non aequaot^ virtutcm et bonura alienura odcruot. CAKTIIAG1NIAN8. Ihis occasion. Antiochus had been taken on bis weak side : a ow and sordid jealousy^ which is the defect and characteristic of little minds, extino:uished every generous sentiment in that monarch. Hannibal was now slighted and laid aside ; he however, was greatly revenged on Antiochus, by the ill success this prince met with, who showed how unfortunate that king is, whose soul is accessible to envy, and his ears open to the poisonous insinuation of flatterers. In a council held some time after, to which Hannibal, for form's sake, was admitted, he, when it came to his turn to speak, endeavoured chiefly to prove, that Philip of Macedon ought, on any terms, to be invited into the alliance ol Antiochus, which was not so difficult as might be imagined. "With regard," says Hannibal, " to the operations of the war, I adhere immoveably to my 6rst opinion ; and had my counsels been listened to before, Tuscany and Li- guria would now be all in a flame, had Hannibal, a name that strikes terror into the Romans, been in Italy. Though 1 should not be veiy well skilled as to other matters, yet the good and ill success I have met with, must necessarily have taught me sufficiently how to carry on a war against the Romans. I have nothing now in my power, but to give you my counsel, and offer you my service. May the gods give success to all your undertakings." Hannibal s speech was received with applause, but not one of his counsels were put in execution.* Antiochus, imposed upon and lulled to sleep by his flatterers, remained quiet at Ephesus, after the Romans had driven him out of Greece ; not once ima- gining that they would ever invade his dominions.! Hannibal, who was now restored to favour, was for ever assuring him, that the war would soon be re- moved into Asia, and that he would see the enemy at his gates : that he must resolve either to abdicate his throne, or vigorously oppose a people who grasped at the empire of the world. This discourse waked, in some measure, the king out of his lethargy, and prompted him to make some weak efforts. But, as his conduct was unsteady, aiter sustaining a great many considerable losses, he was forced to terminate the war by an ignominious peace ; one of the arti- cles of which was, that he should deliver up Hannibal to the Romans. The latter, however, did not give him an opportunity to put it in execution, re- tiring to the island of Crete, to consider there what course would be best for him to take. The riches he had brought with him, of which the people of the island had got some notice, had like to have proved his ruin.J Hannibal was never want- ing in stratagems, and he had occasion to employ them now, to save both him- self and his treasure. He filled several vessels with molten lead, which he just covered with gold and silver. These he deposited in the temple of Diana, m presence of several Cretans, to whose honesty, he said, he confided all his treasure. A strong guard was then posted on the temple, and Hannibal left at full liberty, from a supposition that his riches were secured. But he had con- cealed them in hollow statues of brass,§ which he always carrir^d along with him. And then, embracing a favourable opportunity he had of making his <»scape, he fled to the court of Prusias, king of Bithynia.|| It appears from history, that he made some stay in the court of this prince. *vho soon engaged in war with Eumenes, king of rergamus, a professed friciw CO the Romans. By the a-id of Hannibal, the troops of king Prusias gained ieveral victories by land and sea. He employed a stratagem of an extraordinary kind, in a sea fight. IT The enemy's fleet consisting of more ships than his, he had recourse to artifice. He put into earthen vessels all kinds of serpents, and ordered these vessels to be thrown into the enemy's ships. His chief aim in this was to destroy Eu- menes, and for that purpose it was necessary for him to find out which ship he • Liv. 1. xxxvi. n. 7. f Liv. 1. xxxvi. n. 41. }: Corn. Nep. in Annib. c. 9, 10. Justin. 1. xxxii. c. ^ I These statues were thrown out by him, in a place of public resort, ag things of little ralue. — Cora. (I A. M. 3820. A. Rome, 564. Corn. Nep. in Annib. c. 10, 11. Justin. 1. xxxiii. c. 4. IT Justin. 1. xxxii. e. 4 Corn. Nep. in VH. Annib. Vol. I a S43 IIISTOKV OF THE was onboard of. This Hannibal discovered, by sendii^ out a boat, upon pre tencc of conveying a letter to him. Having gained his point thus far, he or- dered ']tt rninmanders of the respective vessels to direct the greatest force of their attacks against Eurnenes' ship. They obeyed, and would have taken it. had he not outsailed his pursuers. The ^ rest of the ships of Pergamus sus- tained the fight with great vigour, till the earthen vessels had been thrown into them. At first they only laughed at this, and were very much surprised to find such weapons employed against them. But seeing themselves surrounded with serpents which flew out of these vessels Avhen they broke to pieces, they were seized with dread, retired in disorder, and yielded the victc^ry to the enemy. Services of so important a nature, seemed to secure for ever to Hannioa an undisturbed asylum at that prince's court. The Romans however, would not suffer him to be easy there, but deputed Q,. Flaminius to Prusias, to complain of the protection he gave Hannibal.* The latter readily conjectured the mo- tive of this embassy, and therefore did not wait till his enemies had an oppor- tunity of delivering him up. At first he attempted to secure himself by flight, but perceiving that the seven secret outlets which he had contrived in his pal- ace were all seized by the soldiers of Prusias, who, by this perfidy, was de- sirous of making his court to the Romans, he ordered the poison, which he had long kept for this melancholy occasion, to be brought him ; and, taking it in his hand, let us," said he, " free the Romans from the disquiet with which they have been so long tortured, since they have not patience to wait for an old man's death. The victory which Flaminius gains over a naked, and be- trayed man, will not do him much honour. This single day will be a lasting testimony of the great degeneracy of the Romans. Their fathers sent notice to Pyrrhus, to desire he would beware of a traitor who intended to poison him, - and that at a tmie when tnis prmce was ai war with them in the very centre of Italy ; but their sons have deputed a person of consular dignity to instigate Prusias impiously to murder one who is not on^y his friend, but his guest.'' After calling down curses upon Prusias, and having invoked the gods, the pro- tectois and avengers of the sacred rights of hospitality, he swallowed the poi- son, and died at seventy years of age.t This year was remarkable for the death of three great men, Hannibal, Phi- lopcemen, and Scipio, who it is worthy of notice all died out of their native countries, in a manner far from corresponding to the glory of their actions. The two first died by poison : Hannibal was be rayed by his host ; and Phi- lopcemen being taken prisoner in a battle against the Messinians, and thrown into a dungeon, was forced to swallow a dose of poison. As to Scipio, he ba- nished himself, to avoid an unjust prosecution which was carrying on against him at Rome, and ended his days in a kind of obscurity. THE CHARACTER AND EULOGIUM OF HANNIBAL. This would be the proper place for representing the excellent qualities of Hannibal, who reflected so much glory on Carthage. But, as I have attempted to draw his character elsewhere,! and to give a just idea of him, by making a comparison between him and Scipio, I think it unnecessary to give his eulo- gium at laige in this place. Persons who devote themselves to the profession of arms, cannot spend too much time in the study of this great man, who is looked upon, by the best judges, as the most complete general, in almost every respect, that ever the iTorld produced. * A. M. 3822. A. Rome, 566. Liv. 1. xxxix n. 61. f Plutarch, according to his custom, assigns him three different deaths. Some, says he, relate, that liaving wrapped his cloak about his neck, he ordered his servant to fix his knees against his buttocks, and Bot to leave twisting till he had strangled him. Others say, that in imitation of Themistocles and Mid«i, he drank bullU blood. Livy tells us, that Hannibal drank a poison which lie always earned about him i Mid takini^ the cup into hit hands, cried, " lict us free," &c. — In Vita Flarainii. J Vol. II. Of the method of studying and t»i»f hinr the Belles Lettret. CAKTHAGL\IAW8. 243 During the whole seventeen years, (the time the war lasted,) two errors only are objected to iiim ; first, his not marching, immediately after the battle of Cannae, his victorious army to Rome, in order to besiege that city ; secondly, his suffering their courage to be softened and enervated, during their winter- quarters in Capua ; errors, which only show that great men are not so in all things, summi entmsunt homines tamen;'^ and which, perhaps, may be partly excused. But then, for these two errors, what a multitude of shining qualities appeal in Hannibal ! How extensive were his views and designs, even in his most ten- der years! What greatness of soul! what intrepidity ! what presence ol mii"id must he have possessed, to be able, even in the fire and heat of action, to take all advantages ! With what surprising address must he have managed the minds of men, that amidst so great a variety of nations as composed his army, who often were in want both of money and provisions, his camp was not once dis- turb<='d with an insurrection, either against himself or any of his generals ! With vvi.at equity, what moderation, must he have behaved towards his new^ allies, to have prevailed so far, as to attach them inviolably to l^s service, though he was reduced to the necessity of making them sustain almost the whole burden of the war, by quartering his army upon them, and levying contributions in their several countries ! In fine, how fruitful must he have been in expedients, to be able to cany on, for so many years, the w^ar in a remote country, in spite of the violent opposition made by a pow^erful domestic faction, which refused him supplies of every kind, and thwarted him on all occasions ! It may be af- firmed, that Hannibal, during the whole series of this war, seemed the only prop of the slate, and the soul of every part of the empire of the Carthaginians, who could never believe themselves conquered, till Hannibal confessed that he himself was so. But that man must know the character of Hannibal very imperfectly, who should consider him only at the head of armies. The particulars we learn from history, concerning the secret intelligence he held with Philip of Macedon ; the wise counsels he gave to Antiochus, king of Syria ; the double regulation he introduced in Carthage, with regard to the management of the public reve- nues and the administration of justice, prove that he was a great statesman in every respect. So superior and universal was his genius, that it took in ?M parts of government; and so great w^ere his natural abilities, that he was capa'^le of acquittinghimself in all the various functions of it with glory. Hannibal shone as conspicuously in the cabinet as in the field ; equally able to fill civil or mili- tary employments. In a word, he united in his own person, the different talents and nierits of all professions, the sword, the gown, and the finances. He had some learning ; and though he w^as so much employed in military la- bours, and engaged in so many wars, he, how^ever, found leisure to cultivate the muses.t Several smart repartees of Hannibal, which have been transmit- ted to.us,show^that he had a great fund of natural wit; and this he improved, by the most polite education that could be bestowed at that time, in such a re- public as Carthage. He spoke Greek tolerably well, and WTote several books •n that language. His preceptor was a Lacedaemonian, (Solsius,) who, w ith Philenius, another Lacedaemonian, accompanied him in all his expeditions. Both these undertook to write the history of this renowned warrior. With regard to his religion and moral conduct, he was not so profligate anu ivicked as he is represented by Livy ; " cruel even to inhumanity ; m^ore per- fidious than a Carthaginian; regardless of truth, of probity, of the sacred ties nf oaths ; fearless of the gods, and utterly void of religion." Inhumana cni- delitas, perjidia plusquam Punica : nihil veri, nihil sancti^ nullus devm metus, mllum jus jurandum^ nulla relisio.X According to Polybius, he rejected a barbarous proposal that w^as made to him, before he entered Italy, of eating * Q^uinctil. t Atque hie tantiw vir, tantis-^iw bellis distractus. n>«nihil lempori* tribuit lit'sris, &c. — Corn Ncp. ti Vita Annth. e«v 13. % Lir. 1. ixi. b. 4. UA HISTORY OF THE human flesh, al a time when his army was in absolute want of piovlsions.* Some years after, so far from treating with barbarity, as he was advised to do, the dead body of Sempronius Gracchus, which Mago had sent him, he caused his funeral obsequies to be solemnized in presence of the whole army.t We have seen him, on many occasions, showing the highest reverence for the gods; and Justin, who copied Trogus Pompeius, an author worthy of credit, ob serves that he always showed" uncommon wisdom and continence, with regan to the great number of women taken by him during the course of so long : war ; insomuch, that no one would have imagined he had been born in Africa where incontinence is the predominant vice of the country , Pudicitiamoue eun (antum inter tot capiivas habuisse, ut in Africa natum quivis negaret.f His disregard of wealth at a time when he had so many opportunities it enrich himself, by the plunder of the cities he stormed, and the nations he sub dued, shows, that he knew the true and genuine use which a general ought to make of riches, viz. to gain the affection of his soldiers, and to attach allies to his interest, by diftusing his beneficence on proper occasions, and not being sparing in his rewards ; a very essential quality, but very uncommon in a com mandcr. The only use Hannibal made of money was to purchase success, firmly persuaded, that a man who is at the head of affairs is sufficiently recom pensed by the glory derived from victory. He always led a very regular, austere life ; and even in times of peace, and in iLe midst of Carthage, when he was invested with the first dignity of th^ city, we are told that he never used to recline himself on a bed at meals, a? was the custom in those ages, and drank but very little wine.§ So regular and uniform a life may serve as an illustrious example to our commanders, wh( often include among the privileges of war, and the duty of officers, the keep ing of splendid tables, and luxurious living. But, notwithstanding those eulogiums, 1 do not, however, pretend to justify entirely all the errors and defects with which Hannibal is charged. Though he possessed an assemblage of the most exalted qualities, it cannot be denied that he had some little tincture of the vices of his country : and that it would be difficult to excuse some actions and circumstances of his life. Polybius observes, that Haunibal was accused of avarice in Carthage, and of cruelty in Rome. II He adds, on the same occasion, that people were very n»uch divided m opinion concerning him; and it would be no wonder, as he had made him- self so many enemies in both cities, that they should have drav/n him in dis- advantageous colours. But Polybius is of opinion, that though it should Ije taken for granted, that all the defects, with which he is charged are true, we yet ought to conclude, that they were not so much owing to his nature and dis- i position, as to the difficulties with which he was surrounded in the course of I so long and laborious a war ; and to the complacency he was obliged to show to the general officers, whose assistance he absolutely wanted for the execu- tion of his various enterprises ; and whom he was not always able to restrain, Djiy more than he could the soldiers who fought under them. SECTION IT. — DISSENSIONS BETWEEN THE CARTHAGINIANS AND MASINISSA, KING OF NUMiniA. Among the conditions of the peace granted to the Carthaginians, there waa one which imported, that they should restore to Masinissa all the territories and cities he possessed before the war ; and Scipio, to reward the zeal and 6delit7 which that monarch had shown with regard to the Romans, had also added to his dominions those of Syphax. This presently aftefrwards gave rise t© disputes and quarrels between the Carthaginians and Numidians. * Excerpt, e Vo]yb. p. 3.J. t Excerpt, e Diod. p. 282. Liv. 1. xxv. n. 17. $ Lib. xxxii c. 4. \ Cibi polioniique, desiJerio natur«li, non voluplaite, modus finitus. — Liv. 1. xxi. n. 4. CoMtat Aanibalem nec turn cum Romano tonantem bello Italia contremuit, nec cum reverfui Carthagi- aeiu tumraiim imperium tcnuit, aut cubantem coeoasic, aut plus quam isxtario vim indulsiue.— >Jttttw. k njxi't. «. < y Excerpt, e Poljb p. 34. 87. These two princes, Sy^inax and Masinissa, were both kiri^s in Numidia, but 'signed in different parts of it. The subjects of Syphax were called Masaesuli, and their capital was Cirtha. Those of Masinissa were the Massjli ; but botfc hese nations are better known by the name of Numidlans, which was common o them. Their principal strength consisted in th.^ir cavalry. They always '^de without saddles, and some even without bridles, whence Virgil called hem jYumtdce infrceni,'^ In the beginning of the second Punic war, Syphax adhering to the Romans, Gala, the father of Masinissa, to check the career of so powerful a neighbour, thought it his interest to join* the Carthaginians, and accordingly sent out against Syphax a powerful army, under the conduct of his son, at that time but seventeen years of age.t Syphax being overcome in a battle, in which it is said he lo?t thirty thousand men, escaped into Mauritania. The face of things, however, was afterwards greatly changed. Masinissa, after his father's death, was often reduced to the brink of rjin ; being driven from his kingdom by an usurper ; closely pursued by Syphax ; in danger every instant of falling into the hands of his enemies ; and destitute of forces, money, and almost ever}- thing. j; He was at that time in alliance with the Romans, and the friend of Scipio, with whom he had an interview in Spain. His misfortunes would not permit him to bring great succours to that general. When Laelius arrived in Africa. Masinissa joined him with a few horse, and from that time was inviolably attached to the Roman interest. § Syphax, on the contrary, having married the famous Sophonisba, daughter of Asdrubal, went over to the Carthaginians. The fortune of these two princes now underwent a final change. || Syphax lost a great battle, and was taken alive by the enemy. Masinissa, the victor, besieged Cirtha, his capital, and took it. But he met w^ith a greater dangei in that city than he had faced in the field, in the charms and endearments of Sophonisba, whidi he was unable to resist. To secure this princess to him- self he married her ; but a few days after, he was obliged to send her a dose of pois<3n, as her nuptial present ; this being the only way left him to keep his promise with his queen, and preserve her from the power of the Romans. This was a great fault in itself, and must necessarily have disobliged a na- tion that was so jealous of its authority : but this young prince repaired it glo- riously by the signal services he afterwards rendered Scipio. We observed, that after the defeat and capture of Syphax, the dominions of this prince were bestowed upon him ; and that the Carthaginians were forced to restore all he possessed before.^ This gave rise to the divisions we are now about to relate. A territory situated towards the sea-side, near the Lesser Syrtis, was the subject of those contests.** The country was very rich, and the soil extremely fruitful, a proof of which is, that the city of Leptis only, which belonged to that territory, paid daily a talent to the Carthaginians, by way of tribute. Masi- nissa had seized part of this territory. Each side despatched deputies to Rome; to plead the cause of their superiors before the senate. This assembly ihought proper to send Scipio Africanus, with two other commissioners, to exa- fnine the controversy upon the spot. However, they returned without coming to any resolution, and left the business in the same unce; tain state in which they had found it. Possibly they acted in this manner by order of the senate, and had received private instructions to favour Masinissa, who was then pos- sessed of the district in question. Ten years after, new commissioners having been appointed to examine the same affair, they acted as the former had done, and left the whole undeter mined. tt After the like distance of time, the Carthaginians again brought their com plaint to the senate, but with greater importunity than before.JJ They i-epk-^^ * .V.n. I. iv. vpr. 41. t T^'v- 1- xxiv. n. 48, 49. + Liv. 1. xxix. n. 29.-34. f I.iv. 1. xxix. n. 29 II F/.v. 1. XXX. n. 11. 1?. ^J Liv. 1. XXX. n. 44. ** Liv.' I. yzx'iv. n. R2. '* A. M 3S?3, A.. UopK-. STt- Liv. 1. xl. n. 17. tt A. M. 3823 A. Romr ' HISTORY OF THE jented, that besides the territories at first in dispute, Masinissa \ during iIm two preceding years, dispossessed tliem of upwards of seventy towns and cas- tles : that their hands were bound up by the article of the last treaty, which forbade their making war upon any of the allies of the Romans ; that they couid no longer bear the insolence, the avarice, and cruelty of that prince ; that they were deputed to Rome with three requests, which they desired might be immediately complied with, viz. either to get orders to have the affair exa- mined and decided by the senate ; or, secondly, that they might be permitted to repel force by force, and defend themselves by arms ; or, lastly, that il favour was to prevail over justice, they then entreated the Romans to specify, once for all, which of the Carthaginian lands they were desiious should be vested in Masinissa, that they, by this means, might hereafter know wlial they had to depend on ; and that the Roman people would have some regard to them, at a time when this prince set no other bounds to his pretensions, than his insatiable avarice. The deputies concluded with beseeching the Romans, that if the Carthaginians had been guilty of any crimes with regard to them, since the conclusion of the last peace, that they themselves would punish them for it ; and not give them up to the wild caprice of a prince, by whom their liberties were made precarious, and their lives insupportable. After ending their speech, being pierced with grief, they fell prostrate upon the earth, and burst into tears ; a scene that moved all who were present to compassion, and raised a violent hatred against Masinissa. Gulussa, his son, who was then pre- sent, being asked what he had to reply, answered, that his father had not given him any instructions, not knowing that any thing would be laid to his charge. He only desired the senate to reflect, that the circumstance which drew all this hatred upon him from the Carthaginians, was the inviolable fidelity with which he had always been attached to them. The senate, after hearing both sides, answered, that they were inclined to do justice to that party to whom it was due ; that Gulussa should set out immediately with their orders to his father, who thereby was commanded to send deputies with those of^Carthage ; that ihej w^ould do all that lay in their power to serve him, but not to the prejudice of the Carthaginians ; that it was but just the ancient limits should be pre- served ; and that it was far from being the intention of the Romans, to have the Carthaginians dispossessed, during the peace, of those territories and cities which had been left them by the treaty. The deputies of both powers were then dismissed with the usual presents. All these assurances, however, were but mere words. It is plain that the- Romans did not once endeavour to satisfy the Carthaginians, or do them the least justice ; and that they protracted the business, on purpose to give Masi- nissa an opportunity to establish himself in his usurpation, and weaken his enemies.* A new deputation was sent to examine the affair upon the spot, and Cato was one of the commissioners.! On their arrival, they asked the parties if they were willing to abide by their determination. Masinissa readii}^ com- plied. The Carthaginians answered, that they had a fixed rule to which they adhered, and that this was the treaty which had been concluded with Scipio, and desired that their cause might be examined with all possible rigour. They therefore could not come to any decision. The deputies visited all the coun- try, and found it in a very good condition, especially the city of Carthage ; and they were surprised to see it, after being involved in such a calamity, again raised to so exalted a pitch of power and grandeur. The senate was told of this, immediately on the return of the deputies ; and declared that Rome could never be in safety, so long as Carthage should subsist. From this time, whatever alfair was debated in the senate,. Cato always added the following words to his opinion, / conclude that Carthage ought to be destroyed. This grave senator did not give himself the trouble to prove, that bare jealousy of ^ke givwing powor of a neighbouring state is a sufficient cause for destroyhi^ * Polyb. p. 951. t A. v.. 3243. A. Home. 592. An» dc Bell. Pun. p. 3'' LARTHAGINIANS. 247 i city, contrary to the faith of treaties. But Scipio Nasica was of opinion, that llie ruin of this city would draw after it that of their commonwealth ; because the Romans, having then no rival to fear, would quit the ancient severity of their manners, and abandon themselves to luxury and pleasures, the never- failing subverters of the most Nourishing empires. In the mean time, divisions broke out in Carthage.* The popular faction, having now become superior to that of the grandees and senators, sent forty citizens into banishment ; and bound the people by an oath, never to suffer the least mention to be made of recalling those exiles. They withdrew to the court of Masinissa, who despatched Gukissa and Micipsa, his two sons, to Carthage, to solicit their return. But the gates of the city were shut against them, and one of them was closely pursued by Hamilcar, one of the gene- rals of the republic. This gave rise to a new war, and accordingly armies were levied on both sides. A battle was fought ; and the younger Scipio, who afterwards ruined Carthagcu was spectator of it. He had been sent from Lucuilus in Spain, under whom Scipio then fought, to Masinissa, to desire some elephants from that monarch. During the whole engagement, he stood upon a neighbouring hill, and was surprised to see Masinissa, then eighty-eight years of age, mounted, agreeably to the custom of his country, on a horse without a saddle ; flying from rank to rank, like a young officer, and sustaining the most arduous toils. The fight was very obstinate, and continued all day, but at last the Carthaginians gave way. Scipio used to say afterwards, that he had been present at many battles, but at none with so much pleasure as this ; having never before beheld so formidable an army engage, without any dan- ger or trouble to himself. And being very conversant in the writings of Ho- mer, he added, that till his time, there were but two more who had been spec- tators of such an action, viz. Jupiter from mount Ida, and Neptune from Sa- mothrace, when the Greeks and Trojans fought before Troy. I know not whether the sight of a hundred thousand men, (the number engaged) butcher- ing one another, can administer a real pleasure, or whether such a pleasure is consistent with the sentiments of humanity, so natural to mankind. The Carthaginians after the battle was over, entreated Scipio to terminate their contests with Masinissa. t Accordingly, he heard both parties, and the Carthaginians consented to relinquish the territory of Emporium, J which had been the first cause of their division ; to pay Masinissa two hundred talents of silver down, and eight hundred more at such times as should be agreed on. But Masinissa insisting on the return of the exiles, they did not come to any decision. §cipio, after having paid his compliments, and returned thanks tft IVfasinissa, set out with the elephants for which he had been sent. The king, immediately after the battle was over, had blocked up the ene my's camp, which was pitched upon a hill, where neither troops nor previsions could come to them.§ During this interval, there arrived deputies from Rome, ivith orders from the senate to decide the quarrel, in case the king should be defeated, otherwise to leave it undetermined, and to give the king the strongest issurances of the continuation of their friendship, which they* did. In the aiean time, the famine daily increased in the enemy's camp, which, heiu^ heightened by the plague, occasioned a new calamity, and made dreadful ha- voc. Being rtow reduced to the last extremity, they surrendered to Masinissa, promising to deliver up the deserters, to pay him five thousand talents of sil- rer in fifty years, and restore the exiles, notwithstanding their oaths to the contrary. They all submitted to the ignominious ceremony of passing under * App. p. 38. t App. de Bell. Pun. p. 40. X Kmporiurn, or Emporia, was a country of Africa, on the Lessei Syrtis, in which Leplis stood. Ko 9arl of the Carthaginian dominions wns more fruitful than this. Polybiiis, 1. 1. says, thai the revenue thai u-ose from this place \". as so considerable, that all their hopes wer'j .vlrnost founded on it. Iv a?S, viz. cheir evcnucs frnnj Emporia. ; Txov TccJ fXEj'.crras iKir'Sas. To this owin;? their care and state-iealousy beve mentioned, lest th.; llornans should sail beyond the Fjiir Promontory, that lay befor« Ca.lha«je, ani 'Oo roe acquainted with a country which mit^-ht induce them to attempt the conquest of it. { A^p. de. Bell. Pua. p, iQ^ HISTORY OF THE the yoke,* and were dismissed with only one suit of ciothes for each. GuIusAa. to satiate his vengeance for the ill treatinent which we before observed he baa met with, sent out against them a body of cavalry, whom, from their great weakness, they could neither escape nor resist ; so that, of fifty-eight thousand men, very few returned to Carthage. ARTICLE III. — THE THIRD PUNIC WAR. The third Punic war, which was less considerable than either of the former, with regard to the number and greatness of the battles, and its continuaf)ce, which was only four years, was still more remarkable with respect to the suc- cess and event of it, as it ended in the total ruin and destruction of Carthage.) The inhabitants from their last defeat, knew what they might naturally fear from the Romans, from whom they had always met with the most rigwous treatment, after they had addressed them upon their disputes with Masinissa.^ To prevent the consequences of it, the Carthaginians, by a decree of the senate, impeached Asdrubal, general of the army, and Carthalo, commandf r of the auxiliary forces, as guilty of high treason, for being the authors of the war against the king of Numidia.§ They then sent a deputation to Rome, to inquire w^hat opinion that republic entertained of their late proceedings, and what was desired of them. The depflties w^ere coldly answered, that it was the business of the senate and people of Carthage to know what satistaction was due to the Romans. A second deputation bringing them no clearer an- swer, they fell into the greatest dejection, and being seized with the strongest terrors, upon recollecting their past sufferings, they fancied the enemy was already at their gates, and imagined to themselves all the dismal consequences of along siege, and a city taken by the sword.|| In the mean time, the Senate debated at Rome, on the measures it would be proper for them to take, and the disputes between Cato and Scipio Nasica, who were of quite different opinions on this subject, were renewed. IF The for- mer, on his return from Africa, had declared, in the strongest terms, that he had not found Carthage exhausted of men or money, nor in so weak and hum- ble a state as the Romans supposed it to be ; but on the contrary, that it was crowded with vigorous young men, abounded with immense quantities of geld and silver, and prodigious magazines of arms and all warlike stores ; and was so haughty and confident on account of this force, that their hopes and ambi- tion had no bounds. It is farther said, that after he had ended his speech, he threw out of the fold of his robe into the midst of the senate, some African^ figs, and as the senators admired their beauty and size, Know, says he, that it is but three days since these Jigs were gathered. Such is the distance between the eneiny and us*"^ Cato and Nasica had each of them their reasons for voting as they did. [ f Nasica, observing that the people rose to such a height of insolence, as thn. vv them into excesses of every kind; that their prosperity had swelled them wih a pride which their senate itself was not able to check ; and that their po\^ » r had become so enormous, that they were able to draw the city, by force, iniQ fvery mad design they might undertake, was desirous that they should ci.a- tinue in fear of Carthage, as a curb to restrain their audacious conduct. For it Avas his opinion, that the Carthaginians were too weak to subdue the Romans, and at the same time so powerful, that it was not for the interest of the Romans to consider them in a contemptible light. With regard to Cato, he thought, that as his countrymen were become haughty and insolent by success, and * lis furcnt tous passes sous le. ioug-, — sub jugum missi. A kind of gallows, made by two forked sticki star.ding^ upright, waa erected, and a spear laid across, under which vanquished enemies were obliged to pass. — Festus. (A.M. 3855. A. Carth. 697. A. Rome. 599. Ant. J. C. 149. % Appian, p. 41, 42. \ The foreign forces were commanded by leaders of their respective nations. wh# were all under thj eommund of a Carthaginian of&cer, callei by Appian, BoriGajxoJ. y Pint, in Tila Cat. p. 252. % IhiJ p. 350, ** Plin. 1. xv n 18. ft ^^ot- ^'^^ in rita Cat CARTHA(ilNlAi\S 249 plunged headlong into dissipation of every kind ; nothing could be more dan- gerous than for it to have a rival city, to whom the Romons were odious ; a city that, till now, had been powerful, but was become, even by its misfortunes, more wise and provident than ever ; and therefore, that it would not be safe to remove the fears of the inhabitants entirely with regard to a foreign power, since they had, within their own walls, all the opportunities of indulging them- selves in excesses of every kind. To lay aside, for one instant, the laws of equity, I leave the reader to deter- mine which of these two great men reasoned most justly, according to the maxims of sound policy, and the true interests of a state. One undoubted circumstance is, that all historians have observed that there was a sensible change in the conduct and government of the Romans, immediately after the ruin of Carthage that vice no longer made its way into Rome with a timo- rous pace, and as it were by stealth, but appeared openly, and seized, with astonishing rapidity, all orders of the republic; that senators, plebeians, in a word, all conditions, abandoned themselves to luxury and voluptuousness, with- out having the least regard to, or sense of decency, which occasioned, as it must necessarily, the ruin of the state. " The first Scipio,"t says Paterculus, speaking of the Romans, " had laid the foundations of their future grandeur ; and the last, by his conquests, had opened a door to all manner of luxury and dissoluteness. For after Carthage, which obliged Rome to stand for ever on its guard, by disputuig empire with that city, had been totally destroyed, the depravity of manners was no longer slow in its progress, but swelled at once beyond all conception." Be this as it may, the senate resQlved to declare war against the Carthagi- nians ; and the reasons, or pretences, urged for it, were 'heir keeping up ships, contrary to the tenor of treaties ; their sending anarm}^ out of their territories, against a prince who was in alliance with Rome, and whose son they treatrui il^, at the time he was accompanied by a Roman ambassador. j; An event that by chance occurred very fortunately while the senate of l^ome was debating on the affair of Carthage, contributed, doubtless, very much to makdtthem take that resolution.§ This was the arrival of deputies from Utica, who came to surrender themselves, their effects, their territories, and their city, into the hands of the Romans. Nothing could have happened more seasonably . Utica was the second city of Africa, vastly rich, and had an equally spacious and commodious port; it stood within sixty furlongs of Carthage, so that it might serve as a depot of arms in the attack of that city. The Romans now hesitated no longer, but proclaimed war. M. Manilius, and L. Marcius Cen- sorinus, the two consuls, were desired to set out as soon as possible. They had secret orders from the senate, not to end the war but by the destruction of Car thage. The consuls immediately left Rome, and stopped at Lilyba^um in Si cily. They had a considerable fleet, on board of which were four-score thou sand foot, and about four thousand horse. The Carthaginians were not yet acquainted with the resolutions whicn hat been taken at Rome.ll The answer brought back by their deputies had onij increased their fears, viz. It was thebusiness of the Carthaginians to consider whfj tatisfaction zmsdue to the Romans, This made them not know what course to take. At last they sent new deputies, whom they invested with full powers to act as they should see proper ; and even, what the former wars could nevei make them stoop to, to declare that the Carthaginians gave up themselves, and * Ubi Carthago, et ajmula imperii Romani ab stirpe interiit, Fortuna sasvire ac miscere-. omnia ccepit.— • Sall'ist in Bell. Catilin. Ante Cartha<^inem deletam, populns et senatus Romanus placide modesfeque inter se Remp. tractaba? -t — Metuj hostilis in bonis artibus civitatem retinebat. Sed ubi formido iila mentibus decessit, iilicet iM ^aae secundaj res amant, lascivia atque superbia incessere. — Sallust in Bello Jugiirthino. t PotentiJB Romanorum prior Scipio viam aperuerat, luxuria; posterior aperuit Q,uippe remoto Cartha finis metu, sublataque imperii aenula, non gradu sed prscipiti curiu a virtute descitum, ad vita triuifciir linu. — y«l. Patere. 1. ii. c. 1. I App. p. 42. } A. M. 18S8. A. Rome, 60O, App. bell. Fun. p 42. || Polyb. txcerpt, l^gat p. «72 250 HISTORY OF THE all they possessed, to the will and pleasure of the Remans. This, accordin|t to the invporl of the clause, sesuaque eorum arhitrio permiiter e,wdiS subniitlinjf themselves, without reserve, to the pov^^erof the Romans, and becoming their vassals. Nevertheless, they did not expect any great success from this con- descension, though so very mortifying; as the Uticans had been before -hand with them on that occasion, and had thus deprived them of the merit of a ready and voluntary submission. The deputies, on their arrival at Rome, were informed that war had been proclaimed, and that the army was set out. The Romans had despatched a courier to Carthage, with the decree of the senate, and to inform that city that the Roman fleet had sailed. The deputies had therefore no time for delibera- tion, but delivered up themselves, and all they possessed, to the Romans. In consequence of this behaviour, they were answered, that since they had at last taken a right step, the senate granted them their liberty, the enjoyment of theii laws, and all their territories and other possessions, whether public or private, provided that, within the space of thirty days, they should send as hostages, to Lilybaeum, three hundred young Carthaginians of the first distinction, and com- ply with the orders of the consuls. This last condition filled them with inex- I>ressible anxiety : but the concern they were under would not allow them to make the least reply, or to demand an explication ; nor indeed would it have been to any purpose. They therefore set out for Carthage, and there gave an account of their embassy. All the articles of the treaty were extremely severe with regard to the Car- thaginians ; but the silence of the Romans with respect to the cities, of which no notice was taken in the concessions which that people were wilh'ng to make, perplexed them exceedingly. Al? they had to do was to obey. After the many Ibriner and recent losses the Carthaginians had sustained, they were by no means in a condition to resist such an enemy, since they had not been able to oppose Masinissa. Troops, provisions, ships, allies, in a word, every thing was wan* ling, and hope and vigour more than all the rest.* They did not think proper to wait till the thirty days which had been allow- ed them were expired, but immediately sent their hostages, in order to soften the enemy by the readiness of their obedience, though they could by no means fiattor them.selves with the hopes of meeting with favour on this occasion. These hostages were in a manner the flower, and the only hopes, of the noblest fami- lies of Carthage. Never was there a more moving scene ; nothing was now heard but cries, nothing seen but tears, and all places echoed with groans and lamentations ! But, above all, the unhappy mothers, bathed in tears, tore their dishevelled hair, beat their breasts, and, as grief and despair had distracted them, cried out in such a manner, as might have moved the most savage breasts to compassion. But the scene was much more mournful, when the fatal mo rnentof their separation arrived; when, after having accompanied their dear children to the ship, they bid them a long, last farewell, persuaded that they should never see them more ; they wept a flood of tears over them ; embraced them with the utmost fondness ; clasped them eagerly in their arms ; could not be prevailed upon to part with them till they were forced away, which was more grievous and afflicting than if their hearts had been torn out of their breasts. The hostages being arrived in Sicily, were carried from thence to Rome ; and the consuls told the deputies, that when they should arrive at Utica, they would acquaint them with the orders of the republic.. In such a situation of affairs, nothing can be more grievous than a state of uncertainty, which, without descending'to particulars, presents to the mind the blackest scenes of niisery. As soon as it was known that the fleet was arrived at TJtica, the deputies repaired to the Roman camp, signifying that they were come, in the name of their republic, to receive the commands which they w^er« ready to obey. The consul, after praising their good disposition and compli • Polyb. excerpt, leg-at. p. 971 CAR ni ag: .\ I A NS J tnce, commanded them to deliver up to him, without fraud or delay, all then arms. This they consented to, but besought him to reflect on the sad conditioi> to which he was reducing them, at a time when Asdrubal whose quarrel against them was owing to no other cause than their perfect submission to the orders of tlie Romans, wa niui- titude of darts and javelins, with two thousand engines for shooting uait^ and stones.]: Then followed the deputies of Carthage, accompanied by the most venerable senators and priests, who came purposely to try to move the Romans to compassion in this critical moment, when their sentence was about to be pronounced, and their fate would be irrevocable. Censorinus the consul, for it was he who spoke all this time, rose up for a moment at their coming, ana expressed some kindness and affection for them, but suddenly assuming a grave and severe countenance, "I cannot," says he," but commend the readiness with which you execute the orders of the senate. They have commanded me to ieli you, that it is their absolute will and pleasure that you depart out of Carthagt* which they have resolved to destroy ; and that you remove into any other part of your dominions, as you shall think proper, provided it be at the distance cf ei^ht stadia§ from the sea." The instant the consul had pronounced this fulminating decree, nothing was heard among the Carthaginians but lamentable shrieks and bowlings. Being now in a manner thunderstruck, they neither knew w4iere they w^ere, nor what they did ; but rolled themselves in the dust, tearing their clothes, and unable to vent their grief any otherwise, than in broken sighs and deep groans. Being afterwards a little recovered, they lifted up their hands with the air of suppli- ants, one moment tow^ards the gods, and the next towards the Romans, implo- ring their mercy and justice with regard to a people who would soon be redu- ced to the extremity of despair. But, as both the gods and men were deaf to their fervent prayers, they soon changed them into reproaches and imprecations, bidding the Romans call to mind, that there v/ere such beings as avenging de- ities, whose severe eyes w^re for ever open on guilt and treachery. The Ro- mans themselves could not refrain from tears at so moving a spectacle, but their resolution was fixed. The deputies could not even prevail so far as to get the execution of this order suspended, till they should have an opportunity of pre- . senting themselves again before the senate, to get it revoked if possible. They were forced to set out immediately, and carry the answer to Carthage. || The people waited for their return with such an impatience and terror, as words could ne\ier express. It was scarcely possible for them to break through the crowd, that flocked round them., to hear the answer, w^hich was but too strongly painted in their faces. When they were come into the senate, and had declared the barbarous orders of the Romans, a general shriek informed the people of their too lamentable fate ; and, from that instant, nothing w^as seen nor heard, in every part of the city, but howling and despair, madnes* and fuiy.lF The reader will here give me leave to interrupt the course of the history foi a moment, to reflect jn the cu^A^uct cf the Romans. It is to be regretted thai the fragment of Polybius, where an account is given of this deputation, shculd end exactly in the most affecting part of this event. I should set a much higher value on one short reflection of so judicious an author, than on the long harangues which Appian ascribes to the deputies and the consul. I can never believe thjit so rational, judicious, and just a man as Polybius, could have ap- • Polyb. p. 975. Appian, p. U — 46. t Appian, p. 46. { Baliste, orCaUpuIta. i W»urU*^u9*» 9r twelrti mUtB. f| Appian. p. 40— »3. If A ppiao, p. M, M. IllfSTORY OF THE proved the proceeding of the Romans on the present occasion. Wc do hot neie discov(Lr, in my opinion, any of the characteristics which distinguished (iiem anciently ; that greatness of sod, that rectitude, that utter abhorrence of all mean artifices, frauds, and impostures, which, as is somewhere said, foimed no part of the Roman character; Minime Rornanis ariibus. Why did not the Romans attack the Carthaginians by open force ? Why should they declare expressly in a treaty, a most solemn and sacred thing, that they allowed them the full enjoyment of their liberties and laws ; and understand, at the same time, certain private conditions, which proved the entire ruin of both ? Why should they conceal, under the scandalous omission of the word city in this treaty, the black design of destroying Cartilage ; as if, beneath the covei rt 3uch an equivocation, they might destroy it with justice ? In fine, why did the Romans not make their last declaration, till after they had extorted from the Carthaginians, at different times, their hostages and arms ; that is, till they had absolutely rendered them incapable of disobeying their most arbitnu)' commands? Is it not manifest that Carthage, notwithstanding all its defeats and losses, though it was weakened and almost exhausted, was still a terror tc the Romans, and that they were persuaded they were not able to conquer il by force of arms ? It is very dangerous to be possessed of so much power as may enable one to commit injustice with impunity, and with the prospect of being a gainer by it. The experience of all ages shows, that states seldom scruple to commit injustice, when they think it will conduce to their advantage. The noble character which Polybius gives of the Achaeans, differs widel^^ from what was practised here. These people, says he, far from using artifice and deceit with regard to their allies, in order to enlarge their power, did not think themselves allowed to employ them even against their enemies ; con- sklering only those victories solid and glorious, w'hich were obtained sword in hand, by dint of courage and bravery. He owns, in the same place, that there then remained among the Romans but very faint traces of the former generosity of their ancestors ; and he thinks it incumbent on him, as he de- clares, to make this remark, in opposition to a maxim which had grown very common in his time, among persons in the administration of governments, who imagined that honesty is inconsistent with good policy, and that it is impossi- ble to succeed in the administration of state affairs, either in war or peace, without using fraud and deceit on some occasions.* T now^ return to my subject. The consuls made no great haste to march against Carthage, not suspecting they had reason to be under any apprehen-- sions from that city, as it w^as now disarmed. However, the inhabitants took the opportunity of this delay, to put themselves in a posture of defence, bein^; unanimously resolved not to quit the city. They appointed as general with- out the w'alls, Asdrubal, who was at the head of twenty thousand men, and to whom deputies were sent accordingly, to entreat him to forget, for his country's sake, the injustice which had been done him, from the dread they were under of the Romans. The command of the troops within the walls was given to another Asdrubal, grandson of Masinissa. They then applied themselves to making arms with incredible expedition. The temples, the palaces, the open markets and squares, were all changed into so many arsenals, where men and women worked day and night. A hundred and forty shields, three hundred twords, five hundred pikes or javelins, a thousand arrows, and a great number of engines to discharge them, were made daily ; and, there being a deficiency of materials to make ropes, the women cut off their hair, and abundantly sup- plied their wants on this occasion.! Masinissa was very much disgusted at the Romans, because, after he had extremel}' weakened the Carthaginians, they came and reaped the fruits of his victory, without acquainting him in any manner with their design, which cir cmnstance caused some coldness between them.^ Polyb 1. jrii. p. 671 i>T2. * App^ifui, r.J>5. Strrth*, 1. lYii. p. 882. 25? Durinf this interval, the consuls were advancing towards the city, in order tt besiege it. As they expected nothing* less than a vigorous resistance, the incredi- ble resolution and courage of the besieged filled them with the utmost astonish- ment. The Carthaginians were continually making the boldest sallies, in order to repulse the besiegers, to burn their engines, afid harass their foragers. Censori- nus attacked the city on one side, and Manilius on the other. Scipio, after- wards surnamed Africanus, was then a tribune in tlie army, and distinguished himself above the rest of the officers, no less by his prudence than by his bravery. The consul, under whom he fought, committed many oversights, by refusing to follow his advice. Tliis young officer extricated the troops from leveral dangers into which their imprudent leaders had plunged them. Pha- mseas a celebrated general of the enemy's cavalry, ^vho continually harassed the foragers, did not dare even to keep the field when it was Scipio's turn to support them ; so capable was he of directing his troops, and posting himself to advantage. So great and universal a reputntion excited some envy against him in the beginning ; but, as he behaved in all respects with the utmost modesty and reserve, that envy was soon changed into admiration ; so that, when the senate sent deputies to the camp to inquire into the state of the siege, the whole army gave him unanimously the highest commendations ; the sol- diers, as well as officers, nay, the very generals, extolled the merit of young Scipio ; so necessary is it for a man to soften, if I may be allowed the expres- sion, the splendour of his rising glory, by a mild and modest deportment, and not to excite the jealousy of people by haughty and self-sufficient behaviour, as it naturally awakens pride in others, and makes even virtue itself odious !* About the same time Masinissa, finding his end approach, sent to desire a visit from Scipio, that he might invest him with full powers to dispose, as he should see proper, of his kingdom and estate, in behalf of his children. But. on Scipio's arrival, he found that monarch dead. Masinissa had commanded them, with his dying breath, to follow implicitly the directions of Scipio, whom he appointed to be a kind of father and guardian to them. I shall give no fur- ther account here of the family and posterity of Masinissa, because that would interrupt too much the history of Carthage. t The high esteem which Phamaeas entertained for Scipio, induced him to forsake the Carthaginians, and go over to the Romans. Accordingly, he joined him with above two thousand horse, and did great service at the siege. | Calpurnius Piso the consul, and L. Mancinus his lieutenant, arrived in Africa in the beginning of the spring. Nothing remarkable was transacted during this campaign. The Romans were even defeated on several occasions, and carried on the siege of Carthage but slowly. The besieged, on the contrary, had recovered their spirits. Their troops were considerably increased, they daily got new allies, and even sent an express as far as Macedonia, to the pre- tender Philip,§ who passed for the son of Perseus, and was then engaged in a war with the Romans, to exhort him to carry it on with vigour, .md promising to furnish him with money and ships. || This news occasioned some uneasiness at Rome. People be^an to douM the success of a war which grew daily more uncertain, and was more impra*- taut than had at first been imagined. They were dissatisfied with the dilatori ness of the generals, and exclaimed at their conduct, but unanimously agrceJ in applauding young Scipio, and extolling his rare and uncommon virtues. He had come to Rome, in order to stand candidate for the edileship.lF Tht instant he appeared in the assembly, his name, his countenance, his reputa- tion, a general persuasion that he was designed by the gods to end the third Punic war, as the first Scipio, his grandfather by adoption, had terminated the iecond ; these several circumstances made a very strong impression on the people, and, though it was contrary to law, and therefore opposed by the an- • Appian, p. 53 — 58- t Strabo. 1» xvii. p. 65. t A. M. 3857. A. Rome, 601. Strnlc, 1. xvii. p. ) Andriscu* || Ibid. p. 66. V IbiJ. p. 68. 954 cient men, instead of the edilesliip which jje sued for, disregarding' lor onc« the laws, conferred the consulship upon hint,* and aisigTied hirn Africa for ]m province, without casting lots for the provinces as usual, and as Drusus hii colleague demanded. As soon as Scipio had completed his recruite, he set out for Sicily, and ar- rived soon after in Utica. He came very seasonably for Mancinus, Piso's h'eutenant, who had rashly fixed himself in a post where he was surrounded by the enemy, and would have been cut to pieces that very morning, had not tho new consul, who at his arrival, heard of the danger he was in, re-embarked his troops in the night, and sailed yvith the utmost speed to his assistance.! Scipio's fii-st care, after his arrival, was to restore discipline among the troops, which he found had l3een entirely neglected. There was not the least regularity, subordination, or obedience. Nothing was attended to but rapine, feasting, and diversions. He drove from the camp all useless persons, settled the qua- lity of the provisions he would haye brought in by the sutlers ; and allowed of none but what were plain and fit for soldiers, studiously banishing all dainties and luxuries.]; After he had made these regulations, which cost him. but little time and trouble, because he himself first set the example, he was convinced that those under him were soldiers, and thereupon prepared to carry on the siege with vigour. Hav- ing ordered his troops to provide themselves with axes, levers and scaling-lad ders, he led them, m the dead of the night, and without the least noise, to a district of the city called Megara ; when, ordering them to give a sudden and general shout, he attacked it with great vigour. The enemy, who did not ex- pect to be attacked in the night, were, at first, in the utmost terror; they how- ever, defended themselves so courageously, that Scipio could not scale the walls. But perceiving a tower that was forsaken, and which stood without the city, very near the walls, he detached thither a party of intrepid soldiers, who, by the help of pontons,§ got from the tower on the walls, and from thence into Megara, whose gates they broke down. Scipio entered it immediately after, and drove the enemy out of that post : who, terrified at this unexpected as- sault, and imagining that the whole city was taken, fled into the citadel, where they were followed even by those forces that were encamped without the city who abandoned their camp to the Romans, and thought it necessar}^ for them to fly to a place of security. Before I proceed further, it will be proper to give some account of the situa- tion and dimensions of Carthage, which, in the beginning of the war against the Romans, contained seven hundred thousand inhabitants. It stood at the bot- tom of a gulf surrounded with the sea, and in the form of a peninsula, whose neck, that is, the isthmus which joined it to the continent, was twenty-five stadia, or a league and a quarter in breadth. The peninsula was three hundred and sixty stadia, or eighteen leagues in circumference. On the west side there pro- jected from it a long neck of land, half a stadium, or twelve fathoms broad ; which advancing into the sea, divided it from a morass, and was defended on all sides with rocks and a single wall. On the south side, towards the conti* nent where stood the citadel called Byrsa,the city was surroundtd with a triple wall, thirty cubits high, exclusive of the parapets and towers, with which it was flanked all round at equal distances, each interval being fourscore fathoms. Every tower was four stories high, and the walL« but two; they were arched, and in the lower part were stalls large enough to hold three hundred elephants with their fodder, &c. Over these were stables for four thousand horses, and lofts for their.food. There was likewise room enough to lodge twenty thousand foot, and four thousand horse. In fine, ail these were contained within the walls., Tiie walls were weak and low in one place only ; and that was a neglected an- yle, which began at the neck of land above-mentioned, and extended as fai ♦ A. M. 3858. A. Rome, 602. f A tort of ii>«veBbU hr\^: t Appian, p. ftQ. | Appiao, p. 70. II Appian. p. SO, S7. 9tr»bo. 1. xvii. p. 99%- CARTHAGLNiANS. ks the h?)rboui3, which were on the west side. Two of these cominijnlcated with each other, and had but one entrance, seventy feet broad, shut up with chains. The first was appropriated to the merchant.?, and had several aistmct habitations for the seamen. The second, or inner harbour, was for the slii})3 of war, in the midst of which stood an island, called Cothon, lined, as the har- bour was, with large keys, in which were distinct receptacles* for sheltering from the weather two hundred and twenty ships ; over these were magazines i>r store-houses, containing whatever was necessary for arming and equipping fleets. The entrance into each of these reoeptacles was adorned with two marble pillars cf the Ionic order : so that both the harbour and the island re- presented on each side two magnificent galleries. In this island was the adrvii- ral's palace : and as it stood opposite to the mouth of the haibour, he could from thence discover whatever was doing at sea, though no one from thence could see what was transacting in the inner part of the harbour. The mer - cha/its, in like manner, had no prospect of the men of war, the twopoj ts beiivg separated by a double wall, each having its particular gate that led to the city, without passing through the other harbour. So that Carthage may be divided into three parts : the harbour, which was double, and called sometimes Cothon, from the little island of that name : the citadel, named Byrsa : the city pro perly so called, where the inhabitants dwelt, which lay round the citadel, and wa<5 called Megara.t At day-break,| Asdrubal,§ perceiving the ijgnominious defeat of his troops, in order to be revenged on the Romans, and, at the same time, deprive the in- habitants of all hopes of accommodation and pardon, brought all the Roman prisuiiers he had taken upon the walls, in sight of the whole army. There he put them to the most exquisite torture ; putting out their eyes, cutting off their noses, ears, and fingers ; tearing their skin to pieces with iron rakes or linr- rows, and then throwing them headlong from the top of the battlements. So inhuman a treatment filled the Carthaginians with honor : he did not however spare even them, but murdered many senators who had been so brave as to oppose his tyranny. Scipio, finding himself absolute master of the Isthmus, burned the camp which the enemy had deserted, and built a new one for his troops.lj It was of a square form, surrounded with large and deep entrenchments, and fenced with strong pallisades. On the side which faced the Carthaginians, he built a wall twelve feet high, flanked at proper distances with towers and redoubts ; and, on the middle tower, he erected a very high wooden fort, from whence could be seen whatever was doing in the city. This wall was equal to the whole breadth of the Isthmus, that is, twenty-five stadia.^ The enemy, who were within arrow-shot of it, employed their utmost efforts to put a stop to his work ; but, as the whole army worked at it day and night without inter- mission, it was finished in twenty-four days. Scipio reaped a double advan- tage from this work ; first, his forces were lodged more safely and commodi- ously than before : secondly, he cut off all provisions from the besieged, to whom none could be brought but by land ; which distressed them exceedingly, both because the sea is frequently very tempestuous in that place, and because the Roman fleet kept a strict guard. This proved one of the chief causes of the famine which soon after raged in the city. Besides, Asdrubal distributed the corn that was brought only among the thirty thousand men who served un- der him, without regard to what became of the inhabitants. To distress them still more by the want of provisions, Scipio attempted to stop up the mouth of the haven by a mole, beginning at the above-mentioned neck of land, which was near the harbour.** The besieged at first looked upoD this attempt as ridiculous, and insulted the workmen accordingly ; but at last * NfCJcrofxsj, Strabo. f Boch. in Phal. p. 512. % Appian, p. 72. j It was he who at first commanded without the city, but having caused tha other Atdrubal, MasiaiMa ^andton, to be put lo death, he f ot the command of the troops within the walls. I) Appiao, p. 73. V Four milti a^d threrlil^uartcr*. Appian, p. 74. 256 HISTORY OF THE seeing them make an astonishing progress every day, they began to be afraid and to take such measures as might, if possible, render the attempt unsuccess- ful. Evei^^ one, even to the women and children, fell to work, but so secretly that all Scipio could learn from the prisoners was, that they had heard a great noise in the harbour, but did not know the cause or occasion of it. At last, all things being ready, the Carthaginians opened, on a sudden, a new outlet op the other side of the haven, and appeared at sea with a numerous fleet, which they had then built with the old materials found in their magazines. It is gene ■ rally allowed, tliat had they attacked the Roman fleet directly, they miust in- evitably have taken it ; because, as no such attempt was expected, and e^-ery man was otherwise employed, the Carthaginians would have found it without rowers, soldiers, or officers. But the ruin of Carthage, says the historian, was decreed. Having therefore only offered a kind of insult or bravado to the Romans, they returned into the harbour. Two days after, they brought forward their ships, with a resolution to figU in good earnest, and found the enemy ready for them.* This battle was to determine the fate of both parties. It lasted a long time, each exerting them- selves to the utmost ; the one to save their countr}'', reduced to the last ex- tremity, and the other to complete their victory. During the fight, the Car- thaginian brigantines, running along under the large Roman ships, broke to pieces sometimes their sterns, and at other times their rudders and oars ; and when briskly attacked, retreated with surprising swiftness, and returned imme- diately to the charge. At last, after the two armies had fought with equal success till sunset, the Carthaginians thought proper to retire ; not that they believed themselves overcome, but in order to recoininence the fight on the mor row. Part of their ships not being able to run swiftly enough into the harbour, because the mouth of it was too narrow, took shelter under a very spacious terrace, which had been thrown up against the wall to unload goods, on the side of which a small rampart had been raised during this war, to prevent the enemy from possessing themselves of it. Here the "fight was again renewed with more vigour than ever, and lasted till late at night. The Carthaginians suffered greatly, and the few ships of theirs which got off sailed for refuge to the city. When the morning arrived, Scipio attacked the terrace, and carried it, though with great difficulty ; after which he posted and fortified himself on it, and built a brick wall close to those of the city, and of the same height. When it was finished, he commanded four thousand men to get on the top of it, and to dischai^e from it a constant shower of darts and arrows upon the enemy, which did great execution ; because, as the two w^alls were of equal height, there was scarce one dart without effect. Thus ended this campaign. During the winter-quarters, Scipio endeavoured to overpower the enemy's troops without the city, who very much harassed the troops that brought his provisions, and protected such as were sent to the besieged.f For this pur- pose he attacked a neighbouring fort, called Nepheris, where they used to sh^^.lter theniselves. In the last action, about seventy thousand of the enemy, as well soldiers as peasants who had been enlisted, v/ere cut to pieces, and the fort was carried with great difficulty, after sustaining a siege of two and twenty days. The seizure of this fort was followed by the surrender of almost all the strong-holds in Africa ; and contributed very much to the taking of Car- thage itself, into which, from that time, it was almost impossible to bring any provisions. Early in the spring, Scipio attacked, at one and the same time, the harboui called Cothon and the citadel. Having possessed himself of the wall which surrounded this port, he threw himself into the great square of the city that was near it, from whence was an ascent to the citadel, up three streets, with houses on both sides, from the tops of which a shower of darts was discharged upon the Romans, who were obliged, before they could advance farther, in AppiaOt p. 7&. t Appian, p. 7t. CARTHAGINIANS. 25? force th^ houses they first reached, and post themselves in ihein, in order to dislodge the enemy who fought from the neighbouring houses. The combat which was carried on from the tops, and in every part of the houses, continued six days, during which a dreadful slaughter was made. To clear the streets, and make way for the troops, the Romans dragged aside, with hooks, tiie bodies of such of the inhabitants as had been slain, or precipitated headlong from the houses, and threw them into pits, the greatest part of them being still alive and panting. In this labour, which lasted six days and nights, the sol- diers were reliev'ed from time to time by otl ers, without which they would have been quite spent. Scipio slept none duriitg this time, but was occupied in giving orders in all places, and scarcely allowed himself leisure to take the least refreshment.* There was still reason to believe, that the siege would last much longer, and occasion a great effusion of blood. But on the seventh day, there appeared a company of men in a suppliant posture and habit, who desired no other con- ditions, than that the Romans would please to spare the lives of all those who should be willing to leave the citadel ; which request was granted them, ex- cepting only the deserters. Accordingly, there came out fifty thousand men and women, who were sent into the fields under a strong guard. The deser- ters, who were about nine hundred, finding they would not be allowed quarter, fortified themselves in the temple of iEsculapius, with Asdrubal, his wife, and two children ; where, though their number was but small, they might have held out a long time, because the temple stood on a very high hill, upon rocks, to which the ascent was by sixty steps. But at last, exhausted by hunger and watchings, oppressed with fear, and seeing their destruction at hand, they lost all patience; when, abandoning the lower part of the temple, they retired to the uppermost story, and resolved not to quit it but with their lives.! In the mean time Asdrubal, being desirous of saving his own life, came down rivately to Scipio, carrying an olive branch in his hand, and threw himself at is feet. Scipio showed him immediately to the deserters, who, transported with rage and fury at the sight, vented millions of imprecations against him, and set fire to the ter..ple. While it was kindling, we are told, that AsdrubaPs wife, dressing herself as splendidly as possible, and placing herself with her two children in sight of Scipio, addressed him with a loud voice : " I call not down," said she, " curses upon thy head, O Reman, for thou -^nly takest the privilege allowed by the laws of war : but may the gods of Carth.\ge, and thou m concert with them, punish, according to his deserts, the false wretch who has betrayed his country, his gods, his wife, his children 1" Then directing herself to Asdrubal, " Perfidious wretch," says she, " thou basest of creatures ! this fire will presently consume both me and my children ; but as to thee, too shameful general of Carthage, go, adorn the gay triumph of thy conqueror ; suffer, in the sight of all Rome, the tortures thou so justly deservest !" She nad no sooner pronounced these words, than seizing her children, she cut theii throats, threw them into the flames, and afterwards rushed into them herself; in which she was imitated by all the deserters. With regard to Scipio, when he saw the entire ruin of this famous city, which had flourished seven hundred years, and might have been compared to the g:reatest empires, on account of the extent of its dominions, both by sea and iand j its mighty armies ; its fleets, elephants, and riches ; and that the Car- thaginians were even superior to other nations, by their courage and magna- nimity, as, notwithstanding their being deprived of arms and ships, they had sustained, for three whole years, all the hardships and calamities of a long siege ; histo'-lans relate, that he could not refuse his tears to the unhappy fate of Carthagf j: He reflected, that cities, nations, and empires, are liable to re- volutions, no less than individual men ; that the like sad fate had befallen Troy, anciently so powerful ; and, in later times, the Assyrians, Medes, and * A. M. 3^59. A. Komo, 60a. Api>ian p. 79. f Appian, p. ^ Appinn, p iJ. Vol. I S68 ttl«nt)Kr OF THE Persians, whose dominions were once of so great an extcLt ; and las-Iy, thfi Macedonians, whose empire had been so glorious throughout the world. Ful' of these mournful ideas, he repeated the following verses of Homer ; ''EacrfTai iijia?, orav ttot' ikcloKr\ '.T\ioy ifn, Kal ITji'ajioy Kal Ke. Thereby denouncing the future destiny of Rome, as he himself confesiei ia Polybius, who desired Scipio to explain himself on that occasion. Had the truth enlightened his soul, he would have discovered what we are taught in the Scriptures, that because of unrighteous dealings^ wjuries, and riches got by deceit, a kingdom is translated from one people to another. Car thage is destroyed, because its ?,varice, perfidiousness. and cruelty, have at tained their utmost height. The like fate will attend Rome, when its luxury, ambition, pride, and unjust usurpations, concealed beneath a specious and de- lusive show of justice and virtue, shall have compelled the sovereign Lord, the disposer of empires, to give the universe an important lesson m its fall. Carthage being taken in this manner, Scipio ^ave it up to plunder (the gold, silver, statues, and other offerings which should be found in the temples, ex- cepted) to his soldiers for some days. He afterwards bestowed several piili tary rewards on them, as well as on the officers, two of whom had particularly distinguished themselves, viz. Tib. Gracchus, and Caius Fannius, who firs< scalea the walls. After this, adorning a very small ship (an excellent sailer) with the enemy's spoils, he sent it to Rome with the news of the victory.! At the same time, he ordered the inhabitants of Sicily to come and take possession of the pictures and statues which the Carthaginians had plundered them of in the former wars. When he restored to the citizens of Agrigentum Phalaris' famous bull, J he said that this bull, which was at one and the same time, a monument of the cruelty of their ancient kings, and of the lenity of Iheir present sovereigns, ought to make them sensible which would be most advantageous for them, to live under the yoke of Sicilians, or the government of the Romans.§ Having exposed to sale part of the spoils of Carthage, he commanded his family, under the most severe penalties, not to take, or even buy any of them ; so careful was he to remove from hhnself, and all belonging to him, the leasx aispicion of avarice. When the news of the taking of Carthage was brought to Rome, the people abandoned themselves to the most immoderate transports of joy, as if the pub- lic tranquillity had not been secured till that instant. They revolved in their minds all the calamities which the Carthaginians had brought upon them, in Sicily, in Spain, and even in Italy, for sixteen years together ; during which Hannibal had plundered four hundred towns, destroyed three hundred thou- sand men, and reduced Rome itself to the utmost extremity. Amidst the re- membrance of these past evils, the people in Rome would ask one another, whether it were really true that Carthage w^as in ashes. All ranks and de- grees of men eminently strove who should show the greatest gratitude towards the gods, and the citizens w^ere, for many days, employed wholly in solemn sacrifices, in public prayers, games, and spectacles.il After these religious duties were ended, the senate sent ten commissioners into Africa, to regulate, in conjunction with Scipio, the fate and condition of that country for the future. Their first care was to demolish whatever was * Eccles. X. 8. t A- ^- 3859. A. Garth. 701. A. P.ome. 693. Ant. /. C. 145. Appian. p. 88. X Quern, taurum Scipio cum redderet Agrirentinis, dixisse dicitur, aequum esse illos cogitarc utrum esse/ Kcttlis utilius, suisnc servire, an populo R ->btemperare, cum idem moounaentum et domotica; crudrlittitii •t Bostrz maatuetodioif haberent. — Cice /err. vi. n. "3 ) Appian. p. 33 U Ibi.l. ' AftTMAGliNlANS <^^r^ itfll remaining of Caidiago.'* RonK?,t though mistress of ahnost the whole world, could not believe herself safe as long as erven the name of Carthage was in being : so true it is, that inveterate hatred, fomented by long and bloody wars, lasts even beyond the time when all cause of fear is removed ; and does not cease, till the object that occasions it is no more. Orders were given, in the name of the Romans, that it should never be inhabited again ; and dread- ful imprecations were denounced against those who, contrary to this prohibi- tion, should attempt to rebuild any parts of it, especially those called Byrsa and Megara. In the mean time, every one who desired it, was permitted to see Carthage ; Scipio being well pleased to have people view the sad ruins of a city which had dared to contend with Rome for empire. J The commis- sioners decreed further, that those cities, which, during this war, had joined with the enemy, should all be razed, and their territories be given to tlie Ro- man allies; they particularly made a grant to the citizens of Jtica, of the whole countiy lying between Carthage and Hippo. All' the rest they made tributary, and reduced it into a Roman province, to Tvhich a pragtor was sent annually.§ All matters being thus settled, Scipio returned to Rome, where he made his entry in triumph. So magnificent a one had never been seen before ; the whole exhibiting nothing but statues, rare invaluable pictures, and other curi- osities, which the Carthaginians had for many years been collecting in other countries ; not to mention the money carried into the public treasury, that amounted to immense sums.ll Notwithstanding the great precautions which were taken to hinder Carthage from being ever rebuilt, in less than thirty years after, and even in Scipio's life- time, one of the Gracchi, to ingratiate himself with the people, undertook to found it anew, and conducted thither a colony, consisting of six thousand citi- zens, for that purpose. The senate, hearing that the w^orkinen had been ter- rified by many unlucky omens, at the time they were tracing the limits, and laying the foundations of the new city, would have suspended the attempt ; but the tribune, not being over scrupulous in religious matters, carried on the work, notw^ithstandi ng all these bad presages, and finished it in a few days. This w^as the first Roman colony that w^as ever sent out of Italy. H It is probable, that only huts were built there, since we are told, that when Marius** retired hither, in his flight to Africa, he lived in a mean and poor condition amid the ruins of Carthage, consoling himself by the sight of so as- tonishing a spectacle ; himself serving, in some measure, as a consolation to that ill-fated city. Appian relates, that Julius Caesar, after the death of Pompey, having crossed into Africa, saw, in a dream, an army composed of a prodigious number of soldiers, who, with tears in their eyes, called him ; and that, struck with the vision, he wrote down, in his pocket-book, the design w-hich he formed on tViis occasion, of rebuilding Carthage and Corinth ; but that having been mur- dered soon after by the conspirators, Augustus Caesar, his adopted son, w'ho found this memorandum among his papers, rebuilt Carthage near the spot where it formerly stood, in order that the imprecations which had been vented at the time of its destruction, against those who should presum.e to rebuild it, might not fall upon them.jt * We may g-uess at the dimensions of this famous city, by what Flonus says, viz. that it was spventecn days on fire before it could be all consumed. — Q,uanta urbs deleta sit, ut de casteris taceara, vei ig^nium mora probari potest; quippe per conlinuos decern et septem dies vix potuit incendium exting-ui. — Lib. ii. c. 15. t Neque se Roma, jam terrarum orbe superator, securam speravit fore, si noinen usquani maneret Car- thaginis. Adeo odium certaminibus ortam, ultra metum durat, et ne in victis quidem deponitur, neque mtxi* mvisum esse desinit, quam esse desiit. — Vel. Paterc. 1. i. c. 12. t Ut ips« locus eorum, qui cum hac urbe de imperio certarunt, resli^ia calamitatis ostenderet. — Ci«, /t^jar. ii. n. hO. f Appian, p. 84. || Vel. Paterc. 1. i. c. 12. 1 Appian. p. 85. Plut. in Vit Gracch. p. 389 Marius cursum in Africam diroxit, inopemque vitam in tasrurio ruinarum Cartbaginiensium tolera-'it: turn Mariut aspiciens Carthaginem, ilia intuens Mari'jn, alter alterl possent esse solatio. — Vel. PRterc 1 •I c 19 tt Appian. p. C9. HISTORY OF THE I know not what foundation Appian has for this story ;* but we read in Stra* bo, that Carthage and Corinth were rebuilt at the same time by Csesar, to whom he gives the name of God, by which title, a little before, he had plain- ly mtended Julius Caesar ;t and Plutarch,]: in the life-time of that emperor, ascribes expressly to him the establishment of these two colonies ; and ob- serves, that one remarkable circumstance in these two cities is, that as both had been taken and destroyed together, they likewise were rebuilt and repeo- pled at the same time. However this be, Strabo affirms, that in his time, Car thage was as populous as any city in Africa : and it rose to be the capital of Africa, under the succeeding emperors. It existed for about seven hundred years after in splendour, but at last was so completely destroyed by the Sara- cens, m the beginning of the seventh century, that neither its naujC, nor the least vestige of it, is known at this time in the country. A DIGRESSION ON THE MANNERS AND CHARACTER OF THE SECOND SCIPIO AFRICANUS. SciPio, the destroyer of Carthage, was son to the famous Paulus ^milius, who conquered Perseus, the last king of Macedon ; and consequently grand son to that Paulus, who lost his life in the battle of Cannae. He was adopted by the son of the great Scipio Africanus, and called Scipio ^Emilianus ; the names of the two families being so united, pursuant to the law of adoption. Our Scipio supported, with equal lustre, the honour and dignity of both houses, being possessed of all the exalted qualities of the sword and gown.§ The whole tenor of his life, says a historian, whether with regard to his actions, his thoughts, or his words, was conspicuous for its great beauty and regularity. He distinguished himself particularly, a circumstance seldom found at that time in persons of the military profession, by his exquisite taste for polite litera- ture and all sciences, as well as by the uncommon regard he showed to learned men. It is universally known that he was reported to be the author of Terence's comedies, the most polite and elegant v/ritings of which the Romans- could boast. We are told of Scipio,|| that no man could blend more happily repose and action, nor employ his leisure hours with greater delicacy and taste : thus was he divided between arm^ and books, between the military labours of the camp, and the peaceful employment of the cabinet ; in which he either exercised his body in toils of w^ar, or his mind in the study of the sciences. By this he showed, that nothing does greater honour to a person of distinction, of whatever quality or profession, than the adorning his soul with knowledge.^ Cicero, speaking of Scipio, says, IF that he always had Xenophon's works in his hands, which are so famous tor the solid and excellent instructions they con- tain, both in regard to war and policy. He owed this exquisite taste for polite learning and the sciences, to the ex cellent education which Paulus jEmilius bestowed on his children. He had put them under the ablest masters in every art, and did not spare any expense on that occasion, though his circumstances were very narrow ; Paulus jEmilius himself was present at all their lessons, as often as the affairs of governme/it would permit, becoming, by this means, their chief preceptor.** The strict union between Polybius and Scipio finished the exalted qualities, which, by the superiority of his genius and disposition, and the excellency of his education, were already the subject of admiration.!! Polybius, with a great number of Achaians, whose fidelity the Roipans suspected during the war with * Appian. 1. xvii. p. 833. f Ibid. p. 83. t Ibid. p. 733. \ Scipio jKmilianus, vir avitis P. Africani paternisque L. Pauli virtutibns simlllimus, omnibus brill togas dotibus, inj^eniique ac studiorum eminentissimus seculi sui, qui nihil in vita nisi laudandum aut fcoit, aut dixit, ant sensit. — Vel. Paterc. 1. i. c. 12. II Neque enim quisquam hoc Sciplone ele^^antius intervalla neg-otiornm otio dispiinxit ; semperquc aul belli aut pacis serviit artlbus, semper inter arma ac studia versatus, aut corpus periculis, aut animum disc* plinis exercuit. — Vel. Paterc. c. 13. IT Africanus iomperSocraticum Xenophontcm in manibui habebat. — Tusc. Quaest. l.J n. 62 •* Plut in Vita Mmil. Paul tt Kxcerpt. c Polyb. p. 147—16* CARTHAGINIANS. 261 Perseus, was detained in Rome, where his merit soon attracted notice and made his conversation the desire, of all persons of the highest quality in thai city. Scipio, when scarcely eighteen, devoted himself entirely to Polybiu^j Rnd considered as the greatest felicit}'- of his life, the opportunity he had oi being instructed by so great a master, whose society he preferred to all the vain and idle amusements which are generally so eagerly pursued by young persons. The first care of Polybius was to inspire Scipio with an aversion for those equally dangerous and ignominious pleasures, to which the Roman youth were «o strongl}' addicted ; the greatest part of them being already depraved and cor- rupted, by the luxury and licentiousness which riches and new conquest had .ntroduced into Rome. Scipio, during the first five years that he continued irj 50 excellent a school, made the greatest improvement in it ; and, despi^Jing the levity and wantonness, as well as the pernicious examples of persons of the same age with himself, he was looked upon, even at that time, as a shiiung model of discretion and wisdom. From hence the transition was easy and natural, to generosity, to a noble disregard of riches, and to a laudable use of them ; all virtues so requisite in persons of illustrious birth, and which Scipio carried to the most exalted pitch, ^s appears from some instances of this kind related by Polybius, and highly n^orthy our admiration. -Smiiia,* wife of the first Scipio Africanus, and mother of him who .id adopted the Scipio mentioned here by Polybius, had bequeathed, at her death. rrhich were worn by women of her high rank, possessed a great number of gold and silver vessels used in sacrifices, together with several splendid equipages, and a considerable number of slaves of both sexes ; the whole suited to the august house into which she had married. At her death, Scipio made over all those rich possessions to Papiria, his mother, who, having been divorced a considerable time before by Paulus iEmilius, and not being in circumstances to support the dignity of her birth, lived in great obscurity, and never appear- ed in the assemblies or public ceremonies. But when she again frequented them with a magnificent train, this noble generosity of Scipio did him great honour, especially in the minds of the ladies, who expatiated on it in all their conversations, and in a city whose inhabitants, says Polybius, were not easily prevailed upon to part with their money. Scipio was no less admired on another occasion. He was bound, by a condi- tion in the will, to pay at three different times, to the two daughters of Scipio, his grandfather by adoption, half their portion, which amounted to fifty thou- sand French crowns.t The time for the paj^ment of the first sum having expired, Scipio put all the money into the hands of a banker. Tiberius Gracchus, and Scipio Nasica, who had married the two sisters, imagining that Scipio had Tttade a mistake, went to him and observed, that the laws allowed him three years to pay the sum, and at three difterent times. Young Scipio answered, that he knew very well what the laws directed on this occasion ; that they might indeed be executed in their greatest rigour with strangers, but that friends ana relations ought to treat one another with a more generous simplicity ; and therefore desired them to receive the whole sum. They were struck with such admiral'on at the generosity of their kinsman, that in their return home they reproached themselves for their narrow way Qf thinking, at a time when they made the greatest figure, and had a higher regard paid to them than any family in Rome.J This generous action, says Polybius, was the more admired, be- cause no person in Rome, so far from consenting to pay fifty thousand crowns before they were due, would pay even a thousand before the time for payment had elapsed. It was from the same noble spirit that, two years after, Paulus ^milius his father being dead, he made over to his brother Fabius, who was not so wealthy a great estate diamonds and jewels • Sh« wa« •ister of Paulu« ^milius, father of the second Scipio Africanus. T^i aoTovjiii«»i>Koviai- 262 HISTORY THE as himseli, the part of their father's estate which was Scipio's due, (amouinifig to above three-score thousand crowns,^* that there might not be so greata dis paritj^ between his fortune and that ot his brother. This Fabius being desirous to exhibit a show of gladiators after his father's decease, in honour of his memory, as was the custom in that age, and not being able to defray the expenses on this occasion, which amounted taa very heavy sum, Scipio made him a present of fifteen thousand crowns,t in order to defray at least half the charges of it. The splendid presents which Scipio had made his mother Papiria reverted lo him by law, as well as equity, after her demise ; and his sisters, according to the custom of those times, had not the least claim to them. Nevertheless, Scipio thought it would have been dishonourable in him, had he taken lliem bacK again. He therefore made over to his sisters whatever he had presented to their mother, which amounted to a very considerable sum, and by thisfresli proof of his glorious disregard of wealth, and the tender friendship he had foi his family, acquired the applause of the whole city. These different benefactions, which amounted altogether to a prodigior.s sum, seem to have received a brighter lustre from the age at which he be- stowed them, he being then very young ; and still more, from the circumstancer. of the time when they were presented, as well as the kind and obliging beha- viour he assumed on those occasions. The incidents I have here given are so repugnant to the maxims of this age tliat there might be reason to fear the reader would consider them merely as the rhetorical flourishes of a historian, who was prejudiced in favoyr of hi^ hero, if it was not well known that the predominant characteristic of Polybiiis^ by whom they are related, is a sincere love of truth, and an utter aversion ta adulation of every kind. In the very passage whence this relation is extract ed, he thought it would be necessary for him to be a little guarded, where he expatiates on the virtuous actions and rare qualities of Scipio ; and he ob serves, that as his writings were to be perused by the Romans, who were per fectly well acquainted with all the particulars of this great man's life, he would certainly be animadverted upon by them, should he venture to advance an}' falsehood ; an aflfront, to which it is not probable an author, who has the lecsl regard for his reputation, would expose himself, especially if no advantage was to accrue to him from it. We have already observed, that Scipio had never gone into the fashionable debaucheries and excesses to which the young people at Rome so wantonlj abandoned themselves. But he was sufficiently compensated for this self-de nial of all destructive pleasures, by the vigorous health he enjoyed all the resi of his life, which enabled him to taste pleasures of a much purer and more exalted kind, and to perform the great actions that reflected so much gioiy upon him. Hunting, which was his favourite exercise, contributed also very much to invigorate his constitution, and enabk him to endure the hardest toils. Mace- donia, whither he followed his father, gave him an opportunity of indulging, tc» the utmost of his desire, his passion in this respect ; for the chase, which was the usual diversion of the Macedonian mcmrchs, having been laid aside for some years on account of the wars, Scipio found there an incredible quan City of game of every kind. Paulus -^milius, studious of procuring his son virtuous pleasures of every kind, in order to divert his mind from those which reason prohibits, gave him full liberty to indulge himself in his favourite sporl, during all the time that the Roman forces continued in that country, after the victory he had gained over Perseus. The illustrious youth employed his lei- sure hours in an exercise which so well suited his age and inclination ; and was as successful in this innocent war against the beasts of Macedonia, as his father hai been in that which he had carried on against the inhabitants of the countiy t Or 416,500. CARTHAGINLAN8. 263 ft was at Scipio^s return from Macedon that he met with Polybius in Pome, Ttt ({ All thiahiatorj of Jnn^tirtha it citract^^€ from SaHutl CAR riFAGIMANfl. which gained him universal esteem. Jugiirtha, who was nnely shaped, and very h?nd5ome,of the most delicate wit and the most solid judgment, did not devote himself, as young men commonly do, to a life of luxury and pleasure. He used to exercise himself with persons of his sge, in running, riding a- i throwing the javelin; and though he surpassed ,all-his companions, the^e was not one of them but loved him. / The chase l is only delight, but it was that of lions and other savage be^^Sfts.. To finish hi't character, he excelled in all things, and spoke very little oji^ilrriself ; ^^/tmmwn^/acer^', d nunimum ipse de se loquiJ^ ^ So conspicuous an assemblage of fine talents pnd perfections, began lo ex- cite the jealousy of Micipsa. He was himself in the decline of life, and his children very young, tie knew the prodigious lengths which ambition is ca- pable of going, when a crown is in. view ; and that a man, with talents much inferior to those of Jugurtha, might. be dazzled by so resplendent a temptation, especially when united with such favourable circumstances.! In order, there fore, to remove a competitor, so d^cgerous with regard to his children, he gave Jugurtha the command 4)f Ae forces which he sent to the assistance of the Ro- mans, who, at that tirti^g^erfe b s^ng Numantia, under the conduct of vScipio. Knowing Jugurtha wa^^teijaf .by the most heroic bral^ery, he flattered him- self that he probably woiuo^ :i upon danger, and lose his life. In this, he was mistaken. This young V- mce joined to an undaunted courage, the utnjost cahnness of mind ; preserving a just medium between a timorous foresight and an impetuous rashness, a circumstance very rarely found in persons of his age. J In this campaign, he won the esteem and friendship of the whole army. Scipio 'Sent him back to his uncle with letters of recommendation, and the most advan- tageous testimonials of his conduct, ajter having given him very prudent advice with regard to it; for knowing manlcind so well, he in all probability had dis- covered certain sparks of ambition in that prince^ which he feared one day would break out into a flame. Micipsa, pleased with the great character that was sent him of his nephew, changed his behaviour towards him, and resolved, if possible, to win his affec- tion by kindness. Accordingly adopted him ; • and, by his will, made \\\n\ joint-heir with his two sons. Fh * afterwards his end approaching, he sen for all three, and bid them draw jll *s bed, where, in presence of his whole court, he put Jugurtha in mind m^f^K^ e had been to him^ conjuring him, in the name of the gods, to defJi^^d >rotect his children on all occasions ; who, being before related to hiMjKk' 3 ties of blood, were now become hi^ brethren, by his (Micipsa's) boiMpr^. .e told him, that neither arms noi trea- sure constitute the strength of a KmgJ .n, but friends, who are not won by arms nor gold, but by real services and inviolable fidelity. § Now where, says he, caryv^nd better friends than our brothers ? And how^ can that man, whf> beconlSI^'Sjemy to his relations, repose any confidence in, or dej)end on stran rers ? He exhorted his sons to pay the highest reverence to Jugurtha ; and \\ have no contention with him, but in their endeavours to equal, and, if possible surpass his exalted merit. He concluded with entreating them to observe fo? ever an inviolable attachmerl tc .lie Romans; and to consider them as their benefactors, their patrons, and masters. A few days after this Micipsa expired.!! But Jurgurtha soon threw off the mask, and began by ridding himself of Hiempsal, who had expressed himself to him with great freedom, by instigat- ing his murder. IF This bloody action proved but too evidently to Adherbal, * Appiiin, Val. Max. 1. v. c. 2. t TetTcbat cum natura mortalium avida imperii, et pracceps ad explcndam animi ctipidlnein pr. 1. x. c. 2. t Apipian, p. 66. X Cicero introduces Cato, spesiking as follows of Masinissa^s vigorous constitution : Arbitror te auflire, Scipio, hospcs tuus Masinissa qua; faciat hodie nonaginta annos natus ; cum ingressus iter pedibut sit, ia tquum omnio non ascendere ; cum equo, ex equo non defenderc ; nullo imbre, nullo frig^ore adduci, ut capit* •perto sit ; summam eiie in co corporis siccitatem. Itaque exequi omnia regis officia et munera.— D« Senectute. < An seni (ereada lit Ratf. f« TS) || All thiahistorj of Jufrurtha it extnicti«4 from Sallutt CARTIIAGIMANR which gained him universal esteem. Jugiirtha, who was nnely shaped, and very handsome, of the most delicate wi* and the most solid judgment, did not devote himself, as young men commonly do, to a life of luxury and pleasure, lie used to exercise himself with persons of his a^e, in running, riding a- i throwing the javelin; and though he surpassed ,all'his con^panions, the-? was not one of them but loved him. / The chase l is only delight, but it was that of iions and otlier savage belsrts.. To finish hiM character, he excelled in all things, and spoke very little ojf^irr'iself ; ^:>/?*rVm?m /ricerr, it r.iinimvm ipse de se loqui.* ^ \ So conspicuous an assemblage of fine talents pnd perfections, began lo ex- cite the jealousy of Micipsa. He was himself* in the decline of life, and his children very young. He knew the prodigious lengths which ambition is ca- pable of going, when a crown is in. view ; and that a man, with talents much mferior to those of Jugurtha, mighl be dazzled by so resplendent a temptation, especially when united with such favourable circumstances.! In order, there fore, to remove a competitor, so d^.Bgerous with regard to his children, he gave Jugurtha the command .©f .the forces which he sent to the assistance of the Ro- mans, who, at that time,.-were besiegjng Numantia, under the conduct of vScipio. Knowing Jugurtha was actuated by the most heroic bra^xr}% he flattered him- self that he probably would rush upon danger, and lose his life. In this, he was mistaken. This young prince joined to an undaunted courage, the utnjost cahnness of mind ; preserving a just medium between a timorous foresight and an impetuous rashness, a circumstance very rarely found in persons of his a^e.J In this campaign, he won the esteem and friendship of the whole army. Scipio •sent him back to his uncle with letterS of recommendation, and the most advan- tageous testimonials of his conduct, ajter having given him very prudent advice with regard to it; for knowing manlcind so well, he in all probability had dis- covered certain sparks of ambition in that prin(ie^ which he feared one day would break out into a flame. Micipsa, pleased with the great character that was sent him of his nepiiew, changed his behaviour towards him, and resolved, if possible, to win his affec- tion by kindness. Accordingly he adopted him ; • and, by his will, made \\\\\\ joint-heir with his two sons. Finding afterwards his end approaching, he sen for all three, and bid them draw nea/his bed, w-here, iu presence of his who'e court, he put Jugurtha in mind how>good he had been to him, conjuring him, in the name of the gods, to defend and protect his children on all occasions ; who, being before related to him by the ties of blood, were now become hi^ brethren, by his (Micipsa's) bounty. He told him, that neither arms noi trea- sure constitute the strength of a kingdom, but friends, who are not won by arms nor gold, but by real services and inviolable fidelity. § Now where, says he, can we find better friends than our brothers ? And how^ can that man, wh?> becomes an enemy to his relations, repose any confidence in, or dej)end on stran pers ? He exhorted his sons to pay the highest reverence to Jugurtha ; and \\ have no contention with him, but in their endeavours to equal, and, if possible surpass his exalted merit. He concluded with entreating them to observe fo? ever an inviolable attachmeri tc ,*he Romans; and to consider them as their benefactors, their patrons, and masters. A few days after this Micipsaexpired.il But Jurgurtha soon threw off the mask, and began by ridding himself of Hiempsal, who had expressed himself to him with great freedom, by instigat- ing his murder. IT This bloody action proved but too evidently to Adheroal, * Appiiin, Val. Max. 1. v. c. 2. t Terrebat cum natura mortalium avida imperii, et prajceps ad explcndam anlmi ciipidinein pneterca opporliinitas sii»k liberorumque aitatis, qua? etiam mediocres viros spe prfcda*. transversos agit,— Sallast. I Ac sane, quod difficillimum imprimis est, et praslic strenuus erat, et bonus conjillo ; quorum alteruns •I providentia timorem, allerum ex audar.ia temTitatem adferre plerumque solrt. } Non cxercitus, neque thesauri, praesidia fgni lunt, vernm amiei ; qiios n«que arm;8 cog^ere, a«^u« *im> par«re queas ; officio et fide panuntur. Quis autcm amicior qnam fpater fratri ? aut quem Alicnuat 6 lem invenif. si tuis liostis fu^ris ? I A ' 388"». A. Rome, 531. ^ A. M. 5089 A Home. f>32 266 HJflToRY OF THK what he himself might naturally fear. Numidia was now divided, and severally with the two brothers. Mighty armies were raised by each part3\ Adherbal, after losing the greatest part of his fortresses, was vanquished in battle, and forced to make Rome his asylum. This however gave Jugurtha no very great uneasiness, as he knew that money was all-powerful in that city. He therefore sent deputies thither, with orders for them to bribe the chief senators. In the first audience to which they were introduced, Adherbal re- E resented the unhappy condition to which he was reduced, the injustice and arbarity of Jugurtha, the murder of his brother, the loss of almost all bis fortresses ; but the circumstance on which he laid the greatest stress was, the commands of his dying father, viz. to put his whole confidence in the Romans ; declaring, that the friendship of this people would be a stronger support both to himself and his kingdom, than all the troops and treasures in the universe. His speech was of great length, and extremely pathetic. Jugurtha 's deputies made only the following answer : that Hiempsal had been killed by the Nu- midians, on account of his great cruelty ; that Adherbal was the aggressor, and yet, after having been vanquished, was come to make complaints, because he had not committed all the excesses he desired ; that their sovereign entreat* ed the senate to judge of his behaviour and conduct in Africa, from what he had shown at Numantia ; and to lay a greater stress on his actions, than on the accusations of his enemies. But these ambassadors had secretly employed an eloquence, much more prevalent than that of words, which had not proved ineffectual. The whole assembly was for Jugurtha, a few senators excepted, who were not so void of honour as to be corrupted by money. The senate came to this resolution, that commissioners should be sent from Rome, to divide the provinces equally upon the spot between the two brothers. The readei will naturally suppose, that Jugurtha was not sparing of his treasure on tbisoc casion ; the division was made to his advantage, and yet a specious appear ance of equity was preserved. This first success of Jugurtha augmented his courage and assurance. He accordingly attacked his brother hj open force ; and while the latter lost hii time in sending deputations to the Romans, he stormed several fortresses, car- ried on his conquests, and, after defeating Adherbal, besieged him in Cirtha the capital of his kingdom. During this interval, ambassadors arrived frorr Rome with orders, in the name of the senate and people, to the two kings, to lay down their arms, and cease all hostilities. Jugurtha, after protesting thai he would obey, with the most profound reverence and submission, the com mands of the Roman people, added, that he did not believe it was their inten tion, to hinder him from defending his own life against the treacherous snares which his brother had laid for it. He concluded with saying, that he would send ambassadors forthwith to Rome, to inform the senate of his conduct. By this evasive answer he eluded their orders, and would not even permit the deputies to wait on Adherbal. Though the latter was so closely blocked up in his capital, he yet found means to send to Rome, to implore the assistance of the Romans against his brother, who had besieged him five months, and intended to take away his life.* Some senators were of opinion, that war ought to be proclaimed immedi- ately against Jugurtha ; but still his mfluence prevailed, and the Romans only ordered an embassy to be sent, composed of senators of the highest distinc- " lion, among whom was iEmilius Scanrus, a factious man, who had a great in- fluence over the nobility, and concealed the blackest vices under the specious appearance of virtue. Jugurtha was terrified at first ; but he again found aa opportunity to elude their demands, and accordingly sent them back withojt ♦ He chose two of the nimblest of those who had followed him into Cirtha ; who, induced by the great rewards he promised them, and pitying his unhappy circumstances, undertook to pass througfh the enemy'i camp, in the ni^ht, to the neighbouring shore, and from thence to Rome. — Ex iis qui una Cfrtham profi^ raati du«« maximc impigros delegit; cosmulta pollicendo, ac miserando casum suum, confirmat uti per hc-i tium aaioiti?aei ooctu ad p^vximum mare« deio Romam pen^^erent. -Sallust. 2G7 running to any conclusion. Upcri this Adherbal, who had lost all hopes, sur rendered, upon condition of having his life spared ; nevertheless, he was iiib mediately murdered, with a great number of Nuinidians. Although the greatest part of the people at Rome were struck with horror at this news, Jugurtha's money again obtained him defenders in the senate. But C. Memmius, a tribune of the people, an active man who hated the no- bility, prevailed upon the former not to suffer so horrid a crime to go unpun- ished ; and accordingly war being proclaimed against Jugurtha, Calpurnius Bestia, the consul, was appointed to cany it on. HtB was endued with excel- lent qualities, but they were all destroyed, and rendered useless by his ava- rice.* Scaurus set out with him. They at first took several towns ; but Ju- gurtha's bribes checked the progress of thes^e conquests ; and Scaurusf himself, who, till now, had expressed the strongest animosity against this prince, could not resist so powerful an attack. A treaty was therefore concluded ; Juguitha feigned to submit to the Romans, and thirty elephants, some horses, with a very considerable sum of money, were delivered to the quaestor. J cut now the indignation of the people in general at Rome displayed itself in the strongest manner. Memmius the tribune, fired tliv?m by hi» speeches. He caused Cassius, who was piaetor, to be appointed to attend Jugurtha, and to engage him to come to Rome, under the guarantee of the Romans, in order that an inquiry might be made in his presence who those persons were that had taken bribes. Accordingly, Jugurtha was forced to come to Rome. The sight of him raised the anger of the people still higher, but a tribune having been bribed, he prolonged the session, and at last dissolved it. A Numidian prince, grandson of Masinissa, called Massiva, being at that time in the city, was advised to solicit for Jugurtha's kingdom ; which coming to the ears of the latter, he got him assassinated in the midst of Rome. However, the murderer was seized, and delivered up to the civil magistrate, and Jugurtha was com- manded to depart from Italy. Upon leaving the city, he turned his eyes seve ral times towards it, and said, " Rome wants only a purchaser ; and were one to be found, it were inevitably ruined. "§ The war now recommenced. At first the indolence, or perhaps connivance, of Albinus the consul, caused it to progress very slowly ; but afterwards, when he returned to Rome to hold the public assemblies, || the Roman army, by the unskilfulness of his brother Aulus, having marched into a defile from whence there was no getting out, surrendered ignominiously to the enemy, who forced the Romans to submit to the ceremony of passing under the yoke, and made them engage to leave Numidia in ten days. The reader will naturally suppose, that so shameful a peace, concluded with- out the authority of the people, was considered in a most odious light at Rome. They could not flatter themselves with the hopes of being successful in this war, till the conduct of it was given to L. Metellus the consul. To all the other virtues which constitute the great captain, he added a perfect disregard of wealth; a quality most essentially requisite against such an enemy as Ju- gurtha, who hitherto had always been victorious, rather by money, than by the sword. IF But the African monarch found Metellus as inaccessible in this as io all other respects. He therefore was forced to venture his life, and exert his utmost bravery, through the deficiency of an expedient which now began to fail him. He accordingly signalized himself in a surprising manner ; and showed in this campaign, all that could be expected from the courage, abili- ties, and attention of an illustrious general, to whom despair adds new vigour, and suggests new views : he was, however, unsuccessful, because opposed l)y * Multae bonaeque art«.« animi et corpons erant, quasomnes avarilia prfepedicbat. t Magnitudine pecunias a bono honestoque in pravum abstractus est. t A. M. 3894. A. Rome, 683. Anf. J. C. 110. } Pcslquain Roma e^ressus est, fertur saepe taciius eo respiciens, postremo dixlsse. Urbem vcnalem c\ mature pcriturans, siemptorem invenerit. II For electing man^Istratet.-"Sal V In Numidian profici?citnr, magna s^e civium, cum propter artcs bonas, tma maxim« qwoi uircnvm d» ^tiaj iiwj«''jxn aoimum jerebat. 968 HlliTOIlY OF THE 1 consul who did not suffer the most inconsiderable error to escape him, nor ever let slip an opportunity of taking advantage of the enemy. Jugurtha's greatest concern was, how to secure himself from traitors. From the time he had been told that Bomilcar, in whom he reposed the utmost con fidence, had a design upon his life, he enjoyed no peace. He did not believe himself safe anywhere : but all things, by day, as well as night, the citizen a? well as foreigner, were suspected by him ; and the blackest terrors sat lor ever brooding over his mind. He never got any sleep, except by stealth ; and often changed his bed, in a manner unbecoming his rank. Starting sometime? from his slumbers, he would snatch his sword, and break into loud cries ; s»j strongly was he haunted bv fear, and so strangely did he act the madman. Marius was lieutenant or Metellus. His boundless ambition induced him tc endeavour secretly to lessen this general's character, in the minds of his sol- diers; and becoming soon his professed enemy and slanderer, he at last, by the most grovelling and perfidious arts prevailed so far as to supplant Metei- lus, and get himself nominated in his place, to carry on the war against Jugur- tha. With whatever strength of mind Metellus might be endued on other oc- casions, he was totally dejected by this unforeseen blow, which even forced tears from his eyes, and such expressions as were altogether unworthy so great a man.* There was something very dark and vile in this procedure of Marius ; a circumstance that displays ambition in its native and genuine colours, and shows that it extinguishes, in those who abandon themselves to it, all sense of honour and integrity. Metellus avoided a man whose sight he could not bear, arrived in Rome, and was received there with universal acclamations. A tri- umph was decreed him, and the surname of Numidlcus conferred upon him.f I thought it would be proper to suspend, till I came to the Roman history, an account of the events that happened in Africa under Metellus and Marius, all which are very circumstantially described by Sallust, in his admirable his- tory of Jugurtha. I therefore hasten to the conclusion of this war. Jugurtha being greatly distressed in his affairs, had recourse to Bocchus king of Mauritania, whose daughter he had married. This country extends from Numidia, as far as beyond the shores of the Mediterranean, opposite to Spain. J The Roman name was scarcely known in it, and the people as little known to the Romans. Jugurtha insinuated to his father-in-law, that should he suffer Numidia to be conquered, his kingdom would doubtless be involved in its ruin • especially, as the Romans, who were sworn enemies to monarchy, seemed to nave vowed the destruction of all the thrones in the universe. He therefort prevailed upon Bocchus to enter into a league with him ; and accordingly re- ceived, on different occasions, very considerable succours from the king. This confederacy, which was strengthened on either side by no other tie than that of interest, had never been close, and a late defeat which Jugurtha met with, broke at once all the bands of it. Bocchus now meditated the dark design v)f delivering up his son-in-law to the Romans. For this purpose be had desired Marius to send him a trusty person. Sylla, who was an officer of uncommon merit, and served under him as quaestor, was thought eveiy way qualified for this negotiation. He was not afraid to put himself into the hands \)f the barbarian king ; and accordingly set out for his court. Being arrived, Bocchus, who, like the rest of his countrymen, did not pride himself in sin* terity, was for ever projecting new designs, debated within himself, whether it would not be his interest to deliver up Sylla to Jugurtha. He was a long time fluctuating with uncertainty, and between contrary opinions : and the sudden changes which displayed themselves in his countenance, in his air, and his whole person, showed evidently how strong his mind w^* affected. At length returning to his first design, he made his terms with Sylla, and delivered up Jugurtha into his hands, who was sent immediately to Marius. ♦ Q,aibui tebus supra booum atquc huneslum pcrculsus, neque lacrymas lenere neque inodcrari ]]ng\t*ai nr %greg'u» in aliis artibus, nvmis inollitcr R-igritudinem v-a w. ♦A.M. 38M. A. Rame, 642» t Now coor>prehen^insr Fez MrTcs:rroir< of lb« Academy of Belle* Lettrcs. p 467 BOOK THIRD, rim HISTORY OF THE ASSYRIANS. PLAN. i^kMk will coa*Ain the history of the Assyrian empire, both of NineVch and Bfcbylon, tke hl^tes of the Medes. and tbe kingdom of the Lydians. CHAPTER L THE PIRST EMPIRE OP THE ASSYaiANS. SECTION I. — DURATION OF THAT EMPIRE, The Assyrian empire was undoubtedly one of the most powerful in the vroria. With respect to its duration, two opinions have chiefly prevailed. Some au- thors, as Ctesias, whose opinion is followed by Justin, give it a duration of thirteen hundred years ; others reduce it to five hundred and twenty, of which number is Herodotus. The diminution, or probably the interruplion of power, which happened in this vast empire, might possibly give occasion to this differ- ence of opinion, and may perhaps serve in some measure to reconcile it. T^e history of those early times is so obscure, the monuments which convoy it down to us so contrary to each other, and the systems of the moderns upo?i that matter so different, that it is difficult to lay down any opinion about it, a? certain and incontestable But, where certainly is not to be had, I suppose a reasonable person willbe satisfied with prcibabiiily ; and, in my opinion, a man can hardly be deceived, if he makes the Assyrian empire equal in antiquity with the city of " Babylon, its capital. Now we learn from the Holy Scripture, that this was built by Nimrod, who certainly was a great conqueror, and in all probability, the first and most ancientthat ever aspired after that denomination. The Babylonians, as Callisthenes, a philosopher in Alexander's reljtiue, wrote to Aristotle, reckoned themselves to be at least of 1903 years standing, when that prince entered triumphant into Babylon ; which carries their origin as far hack as the year of the world 1771, that is to say, 115 years after the delude. t This computation comes \\i(hin a fevv years of the time we suppose Nimrod to have founded thatcil.y. Indeed this testimony of Callisthenes, as it does m-t agree with any other accounts of that maUer, is not esteeme I authentic by the learned; but the conform iiy we find between it and the Holy Scripture should make us regard it. Upon these grounds, I think we may allow Nimrod to have been the founder of the first Assyrian empire, which subsisted, with more or less extent and * They that are curious to mak<^ deeper researches into thi> matter, may read the dij^ertations of tbhi l^aonier, and Mr. Frevet, ujion the Assyrian empin-, in iha jVIerr.oirs . f the Academv of Be!le« L*itr«», fcr the first, see Y d. 111. and for the other. Vol. V. as also what f<;ther ToumeraiDe ha« trrttten upos subject, in his edition of Menochiffs. t rf>rpHyr. apod S-jMp.'^c. ie lib, ij. de C»is. 272 ttBSTORY 01- THE eloiy, upwards of 1450 yeans, from the lime of Nimrod to that of Sardaiiap? Fus, the last king ; that is to say, from the year of the world 1800 to the year Nimrod.t He is the same with Be]us,| who was afterwards worshipped as a g:od, under that appellation. He was the son of Chus, grandson of Cham, and great-grandson of Noah. He was, says the Scripture, a mighty hunter before the Lord,^ In applyinrus does not speak of the magnitude of Nineveh with some exa}C£rerm Hon : therefore, some learr td men have reduced the stadium to little more than one half, and reckon A them to the Roman mill iaaC^.ad of eifht. ABSYRlAWa. 274 >.o her entreaties, and all the provinces of the empire were commanded to obey •:^miriirnis. These orders were executed but too exactly for the unfortunate Ninus, who was put to death, either immediately, or after some years impri- sonmeixt.''' SfMiRAMis. This princess applied all her thoughts to immortalize her name, and to cover the meanness of her extraction by the greatness of her deeds and enterprises .t She proposed to herself to surpass all her predecessors in magnificence, and to that end she undertook the building of the mighty Baby- \on,l in which work she employed two millions of men, who were collected out of all the provinces of her vast empire. Some of her successors endea- voured to adorn that city with new works and emlellishments. I shall here speak of them altogether, in order to give the reader a more cl^ar and dis- tinct idea of^ that stupendous city. The prmcipal works, which rendered Babylon so famous, were the walls ot the city ; the quays and the bridge ; the lake, banks, and canals made for the draining of the river ; the palaces, hanging gardens, and the temple of Belus ; works of such surprising magnificence, as is scarcely to be comprehended Dr. Prideaux having treated this matter with great extent and learning, I have only to copy, or rather abridge them. I. THE WALLS. Babylon stood on a large flat or plain, in a very rich and deep soil.§ The walls were every way prodigious. They were eighty-seven feet thick, three hundred and fifty feet high, and four hundred and eighty furlongs, or sixty of our miles in circumference. These walls were drawn round the city in the form of an exact square, each side of which was one hundred and twenty fur longSjII or fifteen miles, in length, and all built of large bricks cemented toge- ther with bitumen, a glutinous slime arising out of the earth in that country, which binds in building much stronger and firmer than lime, and soon grows much harder than the bricks or stones themselves, which it cements together. These walls were surrounded on the outside with a vast ditch, full of water, and lined with bricks on both sides. The earth that was dug out of it, was made into the bricks wherewith the walls were built ; and therefoi-e, from the vast height and breadth of the walls, may be inferred the greatness of the ditch. On every side of this great square were twenty-five gates, that is, a hundred in all, which were all made of solid brass ; and hence it is, that when God promised to Cyrus the conquest of Babylon, he tells him, That he would break in pieces before him the gates of brass. ^ Between every two of these gates were three towers, and four more at the four corners of this great square, and three between each of these corners and the next gate on either side ; every one of these towers was ten feet higher than the walls. But this is to be un- derstood only of those parts of the wall where there was need of towers. From the twenty-five gates in each side of this great square extended twenty-five streets, in straight lines to the gates, which were directly over against them, in the opposite side ; so that the whole number of the streets were fifty, each fifteen miles long, twenty-five of which passed one way, and twenty-five the other, crossing each other at right angies. And besides these, there were also four half streets, which had houses only on one side, and the wall on the other ; these went round the four sides of the city next the walls, and were each of them two hundred feet broad ; the rest were about a hun- dred and fifty. By these streets thus crossing each other, the whole city was * Plut. in Mor. p. 753. f Diod. 1. li. p. 95. t We are not to wonder, if we find the founding of a city ascribed to different person*. It is comnoa. tteatinong profane writers, to say, suc'ha prince built such a city, whether be was the persoB that ir^t ftwdcdit, or that only embellished or enlarged it. §■ Her. 1. i. c. 178, 180. Diod. 1. ii. p. 95, 96, Q,. Curt. 1. r. c. 1. )( I relate things as I find them in the ancient authors, \yhich Dean Prideaux has also done ; bat I ca» fe«t iMlp beUeving that great abatements are to be made in what they say at to the immense txt«Ot«f ^76 HJSTORY OF TUB divided into six hundred aiid seventy-six squares, c/icli of which wa» four hl^ ^ long-s and a half on every side, that is, two milts and a quarter in circumfe- rence. Round these squares, on every side towards the streets, stood the houses, which were not contiguous, but had void spaces between them, ail built three or four stories high, and embellished with all manner of ornamenU towards the streets. The space within, in the middle of each square, was likewise all vacant ground, employed for yards, gardens, and other such uses ; so that Babylon was greater m appearance than reality, nearly one half of the city being taken up in gardens and other cultivated lands, as we are told by Q. Curtiu^.* II. THE QUAYS AND BRIDGE. A BRANCH of the river Euphrates ran quite across the city, from the north to the south side.; on each side of the river w^as a quay, and a high wall, built of brick and bitumen, of the same thickness as the walls that went round the city. In these walls, opposite to every street that led to the river, w ere gates of brass^ and from them descents by steps to the river, for the convenience of the inhaoitants, who used to pass over from one side to the other in boats, having nc other way of crossing the river before the building of the bridge. These brazen gates were always open in the day-time, and shut in the night.t The bridge was not inferior to any of the other buildings either in beautv or magnificence ; it was a furlong in length, and thirty feet in breadth, bui\. with wonderful art, to supply the defect of a foundation in the bottom of the river, which was sandy .J The arches w ere made of huge ston€<«, fastened to- gether with chams of iron and melted lead. Before they began to build the bridge, they turned the course of the river, and laid its channel dry, having another view in so doing besides that of laying the foundations more commo- dioiisly, as I shall hereafter explain. And as every thing was prepared be- forehand, both the bridge and the quays, which I have already described, were built in that interval. III. THE LAKE, DITCHES, AND CANALS MADE FOR THE DRAINING OF THE RIVER. These works, objects of admiration for the skilful in all ages, were still more useful than magnificent. In the beginning of the summer, the melting of the snow upon the mountains of Armenia, causes a vast increase of waters which running into the Euphrates in the months of June, Ju\j^ and August, ^ Riakes it overflow its banks, and occasions such another inundation as the Nile does in Egypt.S To prevent the damage which both the city and country received from these inundations, at a very considerable distance above the town, two artificial ca- nals were cut, which turned the course of these waters into the Tigris before they reached Babylon.jl And to secure the country yet more from the dan- ger of inundations, and to keep the river within its channel, they raised pro- digious as tificial banks on both sides the river, built with brick, cemented with bituijien, which began at the head of the artificial canals, and extended below vhe citv.*il To facilitate the making of these w^orks, it was necessary to turn the course of the river another way ; for which purpose, to the w^est of Babylon, wa« du?g a prodigious artificial lake, forty miles square,** one hundred and sixty ra compass, and thirty-five feet deep according to Herodotus, and seventy-fire feet according to Megasthenes. Into this lake the whole river was turned by an artificial canal, cut from the west side of it, till the whole work was finished, * Quint. Curt/1. v. c. 1. f Her. 1. i. c. 180. 186. Diod. i ii. p. 96. X Diodorus says this bridg-e vi is five furlongs in length, which can hardly be true, since the Euphratei fras but one furlong broad. — Strab. 1. xvi. p. 758. I Strab. 1. xvi. p. 740. Plin. 1. v. c. 26. |I Abyd. ap. Ens. Prsep. Evar^. 1. ix IT Abyd. ib. Her. 1. i. c. 185. The author follows Herodotus, who makes it four hundred and twenty furlongs, or fifty-two miles tquar* ^tl choose to follow Dean Pi ideaux, who in that prefers the account of Megaath^Des' AK«YRIAN». 277 when il vFas made to flow in its former channel. But that the Euphrates, in the time of its increase, might not overflow the city through the gates on ita sides, this lake, with the canal from the river, was still preserved. The wa ter received into the lake at the time of these overflowings, was kept then^ all tlic y^ar, as in a common reservoir, for the benefit of the country, to be let out by Sluices at convenient times for watering the lands below it. The lake, ih.erefore, was equally useful in securing the country from inundations, and rendering it fertile. I relate the wonders of Babylon as they are deliv(Med down to us by the ancients, but there are some of them which are scarcely to be comprehended or believed, of which number is the lake I have desriibed. I mean with respect to its* vast extent. Berosus, Megasthenes, and Abydenus, quoted by Josephus and Eusebius made Nebuchadnezzar the author of most of these works ; but Herodotus as cribes the bridge, the two qua^^s of the river, and the lake, to Nitocris, the daughter-in-law of that monarch. Perhaps Njtocris might only finish what 6er father left imperfect at his death, on which account that historian might ^ive her the honour of the whole undertaking. IV. THE PALACES AND THE HANGING GARDENS. At the two ends of the bridges were two palaces, which had a communica- tion w^ith each other by a vault, built under the channel of the river at the time of its being dry.* The old palace, which stood on the east side of the river, was thirty furlongs, or three miles and three quarters, in compass ; near which stood the temple of Belus, of which we shall soon speak. The new palace, w^hich stood on the west side of the river, opposite to the other, was sixty furlongs, or seven miiles and a half, in compass. It was surrounded witb three walls, one within another, with considerable spaces between them. These w^aUs, as also those of the other palace, were embellished with an infi- nite variety of sculptures, representing all kinds of animals to the life. Among them was a curious hunting-piece, in which Semiramis, on horseback, v»'as throwing her javelin at a leopard, and her husband Ninus piercing a lien. In this last, or new palace, were the hanging gardens, so celebrated amor:g the Greeks. TJhey contained a square of four plethra, that is, of four hundred teet, on every side, and were carried aloft into the air, in the manner of seve- ral large terraces, one above another, till the height equalled that of the wai'«- of the city. The ascent was from terrace to terrace, by stairs ten feet wide . The whole pile was sustained by vast arches, raised upon other arches, one ftbove another, and strengthened by a wall twenty two feet thick, surrounding it on every side. On the top of the arches were first laid large flat stones, sixtet-n feet long, and four broad ; over these was a layer of reeds, mixed with a great quantity of bitumen, upon which were two rows of bricks, closely cemented together with plaister. The whole was covered with thick sheets of lead, upon which lay the mould of the garden. And all this flooring was contrived to keep the moisture of the mould from running through the arches. The mould, or earth, laid here, was so deep, that the greatest trees might take root in it: and with such the terraces were covered, as well as with all other plants and flowers that were proper for a garden of pleasure. In the upper terrace ther? was an engine, or kind of pump, by which water was drawn up out of the river, and from thence the whole garden was watered. In the spaces between thf •everal arches, upon which this who^e structure rested, were lai^e and magni ficent apartments, that were very light, and had the advantage of a heautifui prospecl.t Amytis, the wife of Nebuchadnezzar, having been bred in Media, (for she was the daughter of Astyages, the kizig of that country,) was highly pleased with the mountains and woody parts of that country. And as she desired to have something like it in Babylon, Nebuchodonosor, to gratify her, caused * Diod 1. ii 9e, 97. f Diod. p. 98, 90 St»abf.. I. x\ i. p. Qiiinl. Curt. 1. r r. 1. HIJS'nmY OF TT!E this prodigious edifice to be erected.* Diodorus gives rr.udi the same sorount of the matter, but without naming the persons. V. THE TEMPLE OF BELUS. Another of the great works at Babylon was the temple of Beius, winch stood, as I have mentioned already, near the old palace. t U was most re- markable for a prodigious tower that stood in the middle of it. At the foun dation, according to Herodotus, it was a square of a furlong on each side, thai 18, half a mile in the whole compass ; and, according to Strabo, it was also a furlong in height. It consisted of eight towers, built one above the other ; and because it decreased gradually to the top, Strabo calls the whole a pyramid. It is not only asserted, but proved, that this tower far exceeded the greatest of the pyramids of Egypt \n height. Therefore we have good reason to believe, a3 Bochartus asserts, that this is the very same tower which was built there at the confusion of languages ; and the rath< *, because it is attested by several profane authors, that this tower was entirely built of bricks and bitumen, as the Scripture says the tower of Babel was. The ascent to the top was by stairs round the outsicie of it ; that is, perhaps, there was an easy sloping ascent In the side of the outer wall, which turning by very slow degrees in a spiral line eight times round the tow^er from the bottom to the top, had the same appear- ance as if there had been eight towers placed upon one another. In these different stories were many large rooms, with arched roofs supported by pil- lars. Over the whole, on the top of the tower, was an observatory, by means of which the Babylonians became more expert in astronomy than all other nations, and made in a short time the great progress in it ascribed to them in history.J But the chief use to which this tower was designed, was the worship of the god Belus, or Baal, as also that of several other deities : for which reason there was a multitude of chapels in the different parts of the tower. The riches of this temple in statues, tables, censers ,%cups, and other sacred vessels, all of massy gold, were immense. Among other images, there was one of forty leet high, which weighed a thousand Babylonish talents. The Babylonish talent, according to Pollux, in his Onomasticon, contained seven thousand Attic drachmas, and consequently was a sixth part more than the Attic talent, which contains but six thousand drachmas. According to the calculation which Diodorus makes of the riches contained in this temple, the sum total amounts to six thousand three hundred Babylo- nish talents of gold. The sixth part of six thousand three hundred, is one thousand and fifty : consequently, six thousand three hundred Babylonish talents of gold, are equi valent to seven thousand three hundred and fifty Attic talents of gold. Now, seven thousand three hundred and fifty Attic talents of silver, are worth upwards of two millions and one hundred thousand pounds sterling. The proportion between gold and silver among the ancients, we reckon as ten to one ; therefore, seven thousand three hundred and fifty Attic talents of goU) aiiiount to above one-and- twenty millions sterling.§ This temple stood till the time of Xerxes ; but he on nis return from his Grecian expedition, demolished it entirely, after having first plundered it of all its immense riches. Alexander, on his return to Babylon from his Indian expedition, purposed to have rebuilt it ; and, in order thereto set ten ihou- saiKl men to work, to rid the place of its rubbish ; but after ihej niad laboured herein two months, Alexander died, and that put an end to the undertaking.!! Such were the chief works which rendered Babylon so famous. Some ot them are ascribed by profane authors to Semiramis, to whose history it is now time to return. When she had finished all these great undertakings, she thought proper to make a tou : t\irough the several parts of her empire ; and. wherever she came, ♦ Beroj. ap. Jo*, con. App. 1. i. c. 6. | Herod. 1. i. c. 181. Dlod. 1. ii. p. 98. Strabo, 1. Kvi. p 19$ X Phal. part I.Li. c. 9. { |93,240,000. il ffenid. 1. i. c. H3. Strabo. I. xr- #. 738. Arr5an. 1. vil. p. 4«0 279 ied monuments of her magnificence, by majy noble structures which she erect- ed, either for the convenience or ornament o^ her cities ; she applied herself particularly to have water brought by aqueducts to such places as wanted it, and to make the highways easy, by cutting through mountains, and filling up val- itys. In the time of Diodorus, there were still monuments to be seen in many places, with her name inscribed upon them.* The authority this queen had over her people seems very extraordinary, 5ince we find her presence alone capable of appeasing a sedition.! One day, as she was dressing herself, word was brought her of a tumult in the city. ► Whereupon she went out immediately, with her head half dressed, and did not return till the disturbance was entirely appeased. A statue was erected in remembrance of this action, representing hei in that very condition and un- diess, which had not hindered her from flying to her duty. Not satisfied with the vast extent of dominions left her by her husband, she enlarged them by the conquest of a great part of Ethiopia. While she was in that country, she had the curiosity to visit the temple of Jupiter Ammon, to inquire of the oracle how long she had to live. According to Diodorus, the answer she received was, that she should not die till her son Ninyas conspired against her ; and that after her death, one part of Asia would pay her divine honours. Her greatest and last expedition was against India. On this occasion she raised an innumerable army out of all the provinces of her empire, and ap- pointed Bactra for the rendezvous. As the strength of the Indians consisted chiefly in their great number of elephants, this artful queen had a multitude of camels accoutred in the form of elephants, in hopes of deceiving the enemy. It is said that Perseus long after used the same stratagem against the Romans, but neitherof them succeeded in this design. The Indian king, having notice of her approach^ sent ambassadors to ask her who she was, and with what right, having never received any injuiy from him, she came wantonly to at- tack his dominions ; adding, that her boldness should soon meet with the punishment it deserved. Tell your master, replied the queen, that in a little time I myself will let him know who I am. She advanced immediately to- wards the riverj: from which the country takes its name ; and having prepared a sufficient number of boats, she attempted to pass it with her army. Their passage was a long time disputed, but after a bloody battle, she put her ene- mies to flight. More than a thousand of their boats were sunk, and above a hundred thousand of their men taken prisoners. Encouraged by this success, she advanced directly into the country, leaving sixty thousand men behind to guard the bridge of boats which she had built over the river. This was just what the king desired, who fled on purpose to bring her to an engagement in the heart of his country. As soon as he thought her far enough advanced, he faced about, and a second engagement ensued, more bloody than the first The disguised camels could not long sustain the shock of the elephants, which routed her army, crushing whatever came in their way. Semiramis did all that could be done to rally and encourage her troops, but in vain. The king, perceiving her engaged in the fight, advanced towards her, and wounded her m two places, but not mortally. The swiftness of her horse soon carried her beyond the reach of her enemies. As her men crowded to the bridge, to re- pass the river, great numbers of them perished, through the disorder and con- fusion unavoidable on such occasions. When those that could save themselves were safely over, she destroyed the bridge, and by that means slopped the •nemy ; and the king likewise, in obedience to an oracle, had given orders to his troops not to pass the river, nor pursue Semiramis any farther. The queen, having made an exchange of prisoners at Bactra, returned to her own doniin- lons with scarcely one third of her army, which, according to Ctesias, consisted of three hundred thousand foot, and fifty thousand horse, besides the camels and chariots armed for war, of which she had a very considerable number. • Dioa X p. 100 ^102. t Val. Max. l.b \x. c S. i Ud-^. 280 rirsTORY or i hs She, and Alexander after her, wf ''e the only persons that ever ventured to CAnnr the war bej^ond the river Indus. I must own I am somewhat puzzled with a difficulty which may be raised against the extraordinary things related of Ninus and Semiramis, as tliey do not seem to agree with the tim.es so near the deluge ; such vast armies, 1 mean, such a numerous cavalry, so many chariots armed with scythes, and such im- mense treasures of gold and silver, all which seem to be of a later date. The same thing may likewise be said of the magnificence of the buildings ascribe*! to them. It is probable the Greek historians, who came so many ages after- wards, deceived by the similarity of names, through their ignorance in chro- nology, and the resemblance of one event to another, may have ascribed to more ancient princes, such acts as belonged to those of a later date ; or may have attributed a number of exploits and enterprises to one, which ought tc be divided among a series of them, succeeding one another. Semiramis, some time after her return, discovered that her son was plotting against her, and one of her principal officers had offered him assistance. She then called to mind the oracle of Jupiter Ammon, and believing that her end approached, without inflicting any punishment on the officer, who was taken into custody, she voluntarily abdicated the. throne, put the government into the hands of her son, and withdrew from the sight of men, hoping speedily to have divine honours paid to her, according to the promise of the oracle. And indeed we are told she was worshipped by the Assyrians under the form of a dove. She lived sixty-two years, of which she reigned forty-two. There are in the Memoirs of the Academy of Belles Lettres, two learnet? dissertations upon the Assyrian empire, and particularly on the reign and ac- tions of Semiramis.* What Justin! says of Semiramis, namely, that after her husband's decease, not daiing either to commit the government to her son, who was then too young, or openly to take it upon herself, she governed under the name and authority of Ninyas ; and that, after having reigned in that manner more than forty ears, falling passionately in love with her own son, she endeavoured to bring im to a criminal compliance, and was slain by him ; all this is so void of every appearance of truth, that to undertake to confute it, would be but losing time. It must, however, be owned, that almost all the authors who have spoken of Semiramis, give us but a disadvantageous idea of her chastity. I do not know but the glorious reign of this queen, might partly induce PlatoJ to maintain in his commonwealth, that w^omen, as well as men, should be admitted into the management of public affiairs, the conducting of armies, and the government of states ; and, by necessary consequence, ought to be trained up in the same exercises as men, as well for the forming of the body as the mind. Nor does he so much as except tho?e exercises, wherein it was customary to fight perfectly naked, alleging, that the virtue of the sex would be a sufficient covering for them.§ t is just matter of astonishment to find a philosopher so judicious in other respects, openly combating the most common and most natural maxims of mo- desty and decency, which virtues are the principal ornament of the sex, and insisting *so strongly upon a principle, sufficiently confuted by the constant practice of all ages, and of almost all nations in the world. Aristotle, wiser in this than his master Plato, without doing the least injus- tice to the real merit and essential qualities of the sex, has with great judg- ment marked out the diffisrent ends to which man and woman are ordained, from the different qualities of body and mind wherewith they are endowed by the Author of Nature, who has given the one strength of body, and intre- pidity of mind, to enable him to undergo the greatest hardships, and face the most imminent dangers ; while the other, on the contrary, is of a weak and delicate constitution, accompanied with a natural softness and modest timidity, • Vol HI. p. 313, &c. t I-'b- i. c. 2. I Lib. v. d^. lUp. p. 4;l--4i7 £^81 f^liich render her more fit for a sedentary life, and dispose her to keep within the precincts of the house, to employ herself in a prudent and industrious economy.* Xenophon is of the same opinion with Aristotle, and in order to set off the occupation of the wife, who confines herself within her house, agreeably com- pares her to the mother-bee, commonly called the queen of the bees, who alone ^overn^ and has the superintendence of the whole hive ; who distributes all Iheir employments, encourages their industry, presides over the building of J^ieir jittle cells, takes care of the nourishment and subsistence of her nume- rous family ; regulates the quantity of honey appointed for that purpose, and at tixed and j>roper seasons sends abroad the new swarms in colonies to relieve and discharge the hive of its superfluous inhabitants. He remarks, with Aris- totle, the difference of constitution and inclinations, designedly given by the Author of Nature to man and woman, to point out to each of them their proper and respective offices and functions.! This allotment, far from degrading or lessening the woman, is really for her advantage and honour, in confiding to her a kind of domestic empire and go- vernment, administered only by gentleness, reason, equity, and good nature ; and in giving her frequent occasions to exert the most valuable and excellent qualities under the inestimable veil of modesty and submission. For it must ingenuously be owned, that at all times, and in all conditions, there have been women who by a real and solid merit, have distinguished themselves above *heir sex ; as there have been innumerable i'^stances of men, who, by their defects have dishonoured theirs. But these are only particular cases, which form no rule, and which ought not to prevail against an establishment founded in nature, and prescribed by the Creator himself. NiNYAS. This prince was in no respect like those from whom he descended, and to whose throne he succeeded. Wholly intent upon his pleasures, he kept himself shut up in his palace, and seldom showed himself to his people. To keep them in their duty, he had always at Nineveh a certain number of regu- lar troops, furnished every year from the several provinces of his empire, at the expiration of which term they were succeeded by the like number of other troops on the same conditions ; the king, placing a commander at the head of them, on wliose fidelity he could depend. He made use of this method, that the officei^ might not have time to gain the affections of the soldiers, and so form any conspiracies against him. J His successors for thirty generations followed his example, and even ex- ceeded him in indolence. Their history is absolutely unknown, no vestige of it remaining. In Abraham's time, the Scripture speaks of Amraphael, king of Sennaar, the country where Babylon was situated, who, with two other princes, followed Chedorlaomer, king of the Elamites, whose tributary he probably w^as, in the war carried on by the latter against five kings of the land of Canaan.^ It was under the government of these inactive princes, that Sesostris, king of Egypt, extended his conquests so far in the East. But as his power was of short duration, and not supported by his successors, the \ssyrian empire soon returned to its former state. 1| Plato, a curious observer of antiquities, makes the kingdom of Troy, in the time of Priam, dependent on the A^ssyrian empire. And Ctesias says that Teutamus, the twentieth king after Ninyas, sent a considerable body of troops to the assistance of the Trojans, under the conduct of Memnon, the son of Tithonus, at ^he c*ime yvhen the Assyrian empire had subsisted above a thou- sand ye^rs ; which agrees exactly with the time wherein I have placed the foundation t f that empire. ^IF But the silence of Homer concerning so mighty a people, and which must necessarily have been well known, renders this fac* ♦ De Cura Rei Fam. 1. i. c. 3. t I>e Administr. "Oom. p. 83S. i Diod. 1. ii. p. 108 i A. M. 209-2. Ant. .1, C. 191?, || A. M. 2513. Ant. J. C. H91 IT A. M. nil). Ant. .1. C. 11S4 r>e Le^. I. - i. p. finS HISTORY OP THE exceedingly doubtful. And it must be owned, that whatever relates to th« times of the ancient history of the Assyrians is attended with great difficulties, into which my plan does not permit me to enter. PuL. The Scripture informs us, that Pul, king of Assyria, being come into the land of Israel, had a thousand talents of silver given him by Menahem» king of the ten tribes, to engage him to lend him.assistance, and secure him on his throne.* This Pul is supposed to be the king of Nineveh, who repented, with all people^ at the preaching of Jonah. He is also thought to be the father of Sardanapalus, the last kingo^ the As- syrians, called, according to the custom of the eastern nations, Sardan-pul ; that is to say, Sardan the son of Pul. Sardanapalus. t This prince surpassed all his predecessors in effeminacy, luxury, and cowardice. He never went out of his palace, but spent all of his time among a company of women, dressed and painted like them, and em- ployed like them at the distaff. He placed all his happiness and glory in the possession of immense treasures, in feasting and rioting, and indulging himself in all the most infamous and criminal pleasures. He ordered two verses to be put upon his tomb when he died, which imported, that he carried away with him all that he had eaten, and all the pleasures he had enjoyed, but left ail the rest behind him. Haec habeo quae edi, quaeque cxsaturata libido Hausit : at ilia jacent multa et praeclara relicta4 An epitaph, says Aristotle, fit for a hog. Arbaces, governor of Media, having found means to get into the palace, and with his own eyes to see Sardanapalus in the midst of an infamous seraglio, enraged at such a scene, and not able to endure that so many brave men should be subject to a prince more soft and effeminate than the women themselves, immediately formed a conspiracy against him. Belesis governor of Babylon, and several others, entered into it. On the first rumour of this revolt, the king hid himself in the inmost part of his palace. Being obliged afterwards to tako the field with some forces which he had assembled, he was overcome and pui- sued to the gates of Nineveh ; wherein he shut himself, in hopes the rebels would never be able to take a city so well fortified, and stored with provisions for a considerable time : the siege proved indeed of very great length. It had been declared by an ancient oracle, that Nineveh could never be taken, unless the river became an enemy to the city. These words buoyed up Sardanapa- lus, because he looked upon the thing as impossible. But when he saw that the Tigris by a violent inundation, had thrown down twenty stadia§ of the city wall, and, by that means opened a passage to the enemy, he understood the meaning of the oracle, and thought himself lost. He resolved, however, to die in such a manner, as, according to his opinion, should cover the infamy of his scandalous and effeminate life. He ordered a pile of wood to be made in his palace, and setting fire to it, burnt himself, his eunuchs, his women, and his treasures. II Athenseus makes these treasures amount to a thousand myriads of talents of gold,1[ and ten times as many talents of silver, wnich, without reckoning any thing else, is a sum that exceeds all credibility. A myriad contains ten thousand ; and one single myriad of talents of silver t§ worth thirty millions of French money, or about six millions two lijndred and six- teen thousand dollars. A man is lost if he attempts to sum up the whole value ; which induces me to believe that Athenasus must have very much ex aggerated in his computation ; we may, however, be assured from his accounJ that the treasures were immensely great. • A. M. 3233. Ant. J. C. 771. 2 Kin^s xv. 19. t Diod. 1. ii. p. 109—115. Ath. 1. xii. p. 529, 530. Just. 1. i. c. 3. t Kcrv* Ix" "oflTO-* Jq^ayov, xal l(p6€ji(Ta, vat ^£t' Jjcotoj TtfTrv' 'nrahv T(i(5f' roKKa. xal 6K^^a vavrt. kt'kEivrai Ctoid aliud, inquit Aristotele*, in bovis, non in regis sepulchro, inscriberes ? Haec habere ft »9rtiium Aicit. quae ne vivis quidem diutius habenat, quam frgcbattir. — Cic. Tusc. Q,ua!st. lib. v. n. 10| I TwQ wilet »7d a b^lf. j? A- M. 3-357- Apt. J. C. 747. Ahnvi $ 6.216.000,000 ASSYRIAN!! PluUrch, :n nis second treatise, dedicated to the praise of Alexander the Great, wherein he exaniines in what the true greatness of princes consists, a^ ter having shown that it can arise from nothing but their own personal merit, confinns it by two different examples, taken from the history of the Assyrians/ Semiramis and Saidanapalus, says he, both governed the same kingdom; both had the same people, the same extent of country, the same revenues, the same forces and number of troops ; but they had not the same dispositions, ror the same views. Semiramis raising herself above her sex, built magniticent cities, equipped fleets, armed legions, subdued neighbouring nations, penetrated inio Arabia and Ethiopia, and carried her victorious arms to the extremities of Asia, spreading consternation and terror every where ; whereas Sardanapalus, as if ie had entirely renounced his sex, spent all his time in the heart of his palace, perpetually surrounded with a company of women, whose habit, and even manners he had taken, applying himself with them to the spindle and the dis- taff, neither understanding nor doing any thing else than spinning, eating, and drinking, and revelling in all manner of infamous pleasure. Accordingly,- a statue was erected to him after his death, which represented him in the pos- ture of a danc^, with an inscription upon it, in which he addiessed himself to the spectator in these words: Eat^drink^ and he merry; every thing else is nothing.^ An inscription very suitable to the epitaph he hiraselif had ordered to be put upon his monument. Plutarch in this place judges of Semiramis, as almost all the profane histo- rians do of the glory of conquerors. But to judge correctly, it would be proper for us to ask, was the unbounded ambition of that queen much less cul- pable than the dissolute effeminacy of Sardanapalus ? which of the two vices was most injurious to mankind ? We are not to wonder that the Assyrian empire should fall under such a prince ; but undoubtedly it was not till after having passed through various augmentations, diminutions, and revolutions, common to all states, even to the greatest, during the course of several ages. This empire had subsisted about 1450 years. Of the ruins of this vast empire, were formed three considerable kingdoms ; that of the Medes, which Arbaces, the principal head of the conspiracy, re- stored to its liberty ; that of the Assyrians of Babylon, which was given to Belesis, governor of that city; and that of the Assyrians of Nineveh, whose first king took the name of Ninus the i^ounger. In order to understand the history of the second Assyrian empire, which is very obscure, and of which little is said by historians, it is proper, and even absolutely necessary, to compare what is said of it by profane authors with what we find of it in holy Scripture ; that by the help of that double light we may have the clearer idea of the two empires of Nineveh and Babylon, which for some time were separate and distinct, but afterwards united and con* founded together, I shall first treat of the secoad Assyrian empire, and then return io the kingdom of the Medes. CHAPTER II. THE SECOND ASSlrRiAt? EMPIRE, BOTH OF NIHSVEH AI^B BABYIiON. This second Assyrian empire continued two hundred and ten years, reckon ing to the year in which Cyrus, who was become absolute master of the East, by the death of his father Cambyses. and his father-in-law Cyaxares, published ihe famous edict whereby the Jews were permitted to return into their own Ciumtiy, after a captivity of seventy years at Babylon. * P^jfe 335, 336. ) 'EcO.j. Tr»f. h-^fodi jlx'li' T5Ua 3i m&TORY OF THE f8l KIJfGS OF BABYLON. I Hezekiah, to^^o^g^ftir himTh^ Babylon, ^vith XsVsrojt^re^Sl^S^^^^^^^^^ I shall thereLe proceed to the Lings of iSineveh. | KINGS OF NINEVEH. Uire who .s !"PP°f i ° ^f,^^^^^^^^^^^ Thilgamus by ^lian. He °H S t,ave taf en th^e name of Ninus the Younger, in order to honour and ,s said to have taken «e "^i ^ ^^^^ illustrious a prince. , distinguish his reign tne name oi i„,piety could not be reclaimed, f WIS slESr;^^^^^^ by the k>ng^ of Syrm aM israe^^^^^^ F.^ fiiendship and assistance ; longed to the kingdom J«>^f * .^/Jf ""^ f^^^^^^^ such exorbitant Salmanasar.11 c^aoacu^, uik: i^iin^^ , Somaria entered into an alii- ^. made himself master ot FCTt, J'K.X StS^^ Tothij i ''f,lmlr,ard£ after ba.ing reig.ed fourteen years, and w„ s.ceeeded by his son» . *fiK:^:l'^^o,,\.S. ^A.M.S2-,6. AD..J.C.7-3S. 2Ki»r.x"i. «Tv. 1. 2 Kings, xviii, andxix. t 2 Kings xix. ' t 2 Kings, xx. 3 Chron. xxxii. 24—31. 28G HtSrORY OF THE mght a hundred and eighty-five thousand men of his army perished by tiiQ »word of the destroying angel.* After so terrible a blow, this pretended king of kings, for so he called himself, this triumpher over nations, and conqueroi of gods, was obliged to return to his own country, with the miserable remnant of his army, covered with shame and confusion ; he survived his defeat only a few months, as a just retribution to an offended Gud, whose supreme majesty he had presumed to insult, and who now, to use the Scripture terms, having put a ringintohie nose, and a bit into his mouth, as a wild beast, made him re- turn in that humble afflicted condition, through those very countries which & little before had beheld him so haughty and imperious. Upon his return to JSineveh, being enraged at his disgrace, ne treated . his subjects in a most cruel and tyrannical manner. The effects of his fury fell more heavily upon the Jews and Israelites, of whom he caused great numbers to be massacred every day, ordering their bodies lO be left exposed in the streets, and suffering no man to give them burial.t Tobit, to avoid his cru- elty, was obliged to conceal himself for some time, and suffer all his effects to be confiscated. In short, the king's savage temper rendered him so Insupport- able to his own family, that his two eldest sons conspired against him, and killed him in the temple, in Ihe presence of his god Nisroch, as he lajr prostrate before him.J But these two princes, being obliged, after this parricide, to fly into Armenia, left the kingdom to Esar-haddon, their youngest brother. EsAR-HADD0N.§ We have already observed, that after Merodach-Baladan. there was a succession of kings at Babylon, of whom history has transmitted nothing but the names. The royal family becoming extinct, there was ar interregnum of eight years, full of troubles and commotions. Esar-haddon taking advantage of this juncture, made himself master of Babylon, and an- nexing it to his former dominions, reigned over the two united empires thir- teen years. After having reunited Syria and Palestine to the Assyrian empire, which .^ad; been rent from it in the preceding reign, he entered the land of Israel, where he took captive as many as were left there, and carried them into Assyria, except an inconsiderable number that escaped his pursuit. And that the coun-j try might not become a desert, he sent colonies of idolatrous people, taken ouf 01 the countries beyond the Euphrates, to dwell in the cities of Samaria. The prediction of Isaiah was then fulfilled ; within three score and five years shall Ephraim he broken, that it be no more a people J\ This was exactly the spacei of time that elapsed between the prediction and the event ; and the people of Israel did then truly cease to be a visible nation, what was left to them being altogether mixed and confounded with other nations. This prince, having possessed himself of the land of Israel, sent some of his generals with a part of his army into Judea, to reduce that country likewise under his subjection. These generals defeated Manasseh, and having taken him prisoner, brought him to Esar-haddon, who put him in chains, and car- ried him to Babylon. But Manasseh, having afterwards appeased tht wrath of God by a sincere and lively repentance, obtained his liberty, and returned to Jerusalem. IF Meantime, the colonies that had been sent into Samaria, in the room of \\s .^ficient inhabitants, were grievously infested with lions. The king of Baby- Ion, being told that the cause of this calami-ty was their not worshiping the God of the country, ordered an Israelitish priest to be sent to them, from among the captives taken in that countiy,to teach them the worship of the God of Israel. But these idolaters, contented with admitting the true God among their an- cient divinities, worshipped him jointly with their false gods. This comipf worship continued afterwards, and was the source of the aversion entertained bj the Jews against the Samaritans.** • 2 Kings, xix. 35—37. t Tobit, i. 13—34. % 2 Kings, xk«. 47 j A. M. 3294. Ant. J. C. 710. Cant. PtoL || lsa.rii. a t «Ch»04B, Mxiii. 11, 13. •* 2 Kiji«s, xvii. 25.^-41. AS6VRIANS. • 281 Esar-haddon, after a prosperous reign of thirty-nine years, over the Assyrians. And thirteen over the Babylonians, was succeeded by his son, Saosduc;hinus.* This prince is called in Scripture, Nebuchodonosor, which name was common to the kings of Babylon. To distinguish this from the otl ers, he is called Nebuchodonosor 1. Tobit was still alive at this time, and dwelt among other captives at Nine- veh. Perceiving his end approaching, he foretold to his children the sudden destruction of that city, of which there ^vas not then the least appearance, fie advised them to quit the city before its ruin came on, and to depart as soon as fhey had buried him and his wife.j The ruin of Nineveh is at hand, says the ^ood old man, abide no longer here, for I perceive the wickedness of the city will occasion its destruction. These last words are very remarkable, the wickedness of the city will occasion its destruc- tion. Men will be apt to impute the ruin of Nineveh to any other reason, but we are taught by the Holy Ghost, that her unrighteousness was the true cause of it, as it will be with other states that imitate her crimes. Nebuchodonosor defeated the king of the Medes in a pitched battle, fough/ the twelfth year of his reign, upon the plain of Ragau ; he took Ecbatana, the capital of his kingdom, and returned triumphant to Nineveh.J When we come to treat of the history of the Medes, we shall give a more particular account oi this victory. It was immediately after this expedition, that Bethulia was besieged by Holofernes, one of Nebuchodonosor's generals ; and that the famous enterprise of Judith was accomplished. Saracus otherwise called Ghyna-Ladanus.§ This prince succeeded Sa- osduchinus, and having rendered himself contemptible to his subjects by his effeminacy, and the little care he took of his dominions, Nabopolassar, a Ba- bylonian by birth, and general of his army, usurped that part of the Assyrian empire, and reigned over it one and twenty years. Nabopolassar. II This prince, the better to maintain his usiirpc(i sove- reignty, made an alliance with C>y axares, king of the Medes. With their joint forces they besieged and took Nineveh, killed Saracus, and utterly destroyc i that great city. We shall treat more extensively of this great event when wf come to the history of the Medes. From this time forward the city of Baby Ion became the only capital of the Assyrian empire. The Babylonians and the Medes, having destroyed Nineveh, became so for rnidable, that they drew upon themselves the jealousy of all their neighbouae Necho, king of Egypt, was so alarmed at their pov^^er, that to stop their pro- gress, he marched towards the Euphrates, at the head of a powerful army, and made several considerable conquests. See the history of the Egyptians for what concerns this expedition, and the consequences that attended it. Nabopolassar finding, that, after the taking of Carchemish, by Necho, all Syria and Palestine had revolted from him, and neither his age nor infirmities permitting him to go in person to recover them, he made his son Nebuchodo- nosor partner with him in the empire, and sent him away with an army, to re duce those countries to their former subjection. If From this time the Jews began to reckon the years of Nebuchodonosor, viz. from the end of the third year of Jehoiakim, king of Judah, or rather froui the beginning of the fourth. But the Babylonians compute the reign of this prince only from the death of his father, which happened two years later.** Nebuchodonosor II. or Nebuchadnezzar, tt This prince defeated Necho's army near the Euphrates, and retook Carchemish. From thence he marched towards Syria and Palestine, and reunited those provinces to his dominions. ♦ a. M. S335. Ant. J. C. 669. t Tobit, xiv. 5—13. ♦ Judith, i. 5, 6. { A. M. S356. Aot. J. C. 648. Alex. Polyhist. i| A. M. 3578. Ant. J. C. 626. T Bcr»s. apudl Jottok AkU^. 1. x. c. 11. et con. Ap. 1. i. A. M. 3398. Act. J. C 69S ft J«r- 2. 9 Kiny «, xxiv 7. HISTORY OF THK He likewise entered Judea, besieged Jerusalem, and took it ; be caus*»d Jeboiakim to be put in chains, with a design to have him carried to Babylon; but being moved with his repentance, and affliction, he restored him to Tii?» Uirone. Great numbers of the Jews, and among them some children of the royal family, were carried captive to Babylon, whither all the treasures of the king's palace and a part of the sacred vessels of the temple, were likewise transported.* Thus was the judgment which God had dt tiounced by the propheV. Isaiah to King Hezekiah accomplished. From this famous epoch^ which was the fourth year of Jehoiakim king of Judah, we are to date the captivity of the Jews at Babylon, so often foretold by Jeremiah. Daniel, then but eighteen years old, was carried captive among the rest, and Ezekiel some time after^vards. Towards the end of the fifth year of Jehoiakim, Nabopolassar, king of Baby- fon died, after having reigned one and twenty years.j As soon as his son Ne buchodonosor was informed of his death, he set out with all 'expedition ihi Babylon, taking the nearest w^ay through the desert, attended only b}'' a small retinue, leaving the main body of his army with his generals, to be conducted to Babylon with the captives and spoils. On his arrival he received the go- vernment from the hands of those who had carefully preserved it for him, and $0 succeeded to all the dominions of his father, which comprehended Chaldea, Assyria, Arabia, Syria, and Palestine, over which, according to Ptolemy, he reigned forty-three years. In the fourth year of his reign he had a dream, at which he was greatly terrified, though he could not call it again to mind. J He thereupon consulted the wise men and diviners of his kingdom, requiring of them to make known to him the substance of his dream. They all answered, that it was beyond the reach of their art to divine the thing itself, and that the utmost they could do was to give the interpretation of his dream, when he had made it known to them. As absolute princes are not accustomed to mee't with opposition, but ^vill be obej^ed^ in all things, Nebuchodonosor, imagining tnai tbey dealt in- sincerely with him, fell into a violent rage, and condemned them all to death. Daniel and his three companions were included in the sentence, as being ranked among the wise men. But Daniel, having first invoked his God, desired to be jntroduced to the king, to whom he revealed the whole substance of his dream. '* The thing thou sawest," said he, " was an image of an enorm.ous size, and a terrible countenance. The head thereof was of ^^old, the breast and arms of silver, the belly and thighs of brass, and the feet part of iron and part oi clay. And, as the king was attentively looking upon that vision, behold a stone was cut out of a mountain, without hands, and the stone smote the image upon his feet, and brake them to pieces ; the whole image was ground as smal as dust, and the stone became a great mountain, and filled the whole earth.'' When Daniel had related the dream, he also gave the king the interpretation thereof, showing him that it signified the three great empires which were to Brcceed that of the Assyrians, namely, the Persian, the Grecian, and the Ro- man, or, according to some, that of the successors of Alexander the Great " After these kingdoms," continued Daniel, " shall the God of heaven set ud a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed; and this kingdom shall not be left other people, but shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and shall stand for ever." By which Daniel plainly foretold the kingdom oi Jesus Christ. The king, ravished with admiration and astonishment, after ha- ving acknowledged and loudly declared, that the God of the Israelites was re- ally the God of gods, advanced Daniel to the highest offices in the kingdom, made him chief of the governors over all the wise men, ruler of the whole province of Babylon, and one of the principal lords of the council, that al * Dan. i. 1—7 2 Chron. xxxvi. 6, 7. t Can. Ptol. Beros. apud Joseph. Antiq. 1. x. c. 11. el con. Ap. 1. *. X A. M.3401. Ant. J. C. 603. Pan. ©i ii. ASSYRIANS. 28y vvijs Mp.ndi^A the court. His three friends were also promoted to honours and At this time Jehoiakim revolted from the kingdom of Babylon, whose gene- Tils that were still in Judea, marched against him, and committed all kinds of lostiiitie? upon his country.'^ He slept with fas fathers^ is all the Scripture Kiy< of his death. Jeremiah had prophesied that he should neither be regret- ted nor lamented ; but should be buried with the burial of an ass^ drawn and cast forth beyond the gates of Jerusalem : this was no doubt fulfilled, though il [S not known in what manner. Jechoniast succeeded both to the throne and iniquity of his father. Nebu- :hadnezzar's lieutenants continuing the blockade of Jerusalem, in three months dme he, himself, came at tlie head of his «irmy and made himself master of ^he city. He plundered both the temple and the king's palace of all their treasures, and sent them away to Babylon, together with all the golden vessels remaining, which Solomon had made for the use of the temple ; he carried away, likewise, a vast number of captives, among whom were king Jeclionias, his mother, his wives, with all the chief officers and great men of his king- dom. In the room of Jechonias, he set upon the throne his uncle Mattaniah, who was otherwise called Zedekiah. This prince had as little religion and prosperity as his forefathers.^ Having made an alliance with Pharaoh, king oi Egypt, he broke the oath of fidelity he had taken to the king of Babylon. The latter soon chastised him for it, and immediately laid siege to Jerusalem. The king of Egypt's arrival at the head of an army, gave the besieged some hopes ; but their joy was of very short duration ; the Egyptians were defeated, and the conqueror returned tc Jerusalem, and renewed the siege, which lasted nearly twelve months. At las' the city was taken bv storm, and a terrible slaughter ensued. § Zedekiah'.* two sons, were, by Nebuchadnezzar's orders, killed before their father's face with all the nobles and principal men of Judea : Zedekiah himself had bott his eyes put out, was loaded widi fetters, and carried to Babylon, where he- was confined in prison as long as he lived. The city and temple were pillaged and burned and all their fortifications demolished. Upon Nebuchadnezzar's return to Babylon, after his successful war against ludea, he ordered a golden statue to be made sixty cubits high,[l assemblea all the great men of the kingdom to celebrate the dedication of it, and com- manded all his subjects to worship it, threatening to cast those that should re- fuse into the midst of a burning fiery furnace. It was upon this occasion, that the three young Hebrews, Ananias, Misael, and Azarias, who, with an invin cible courage refused to comply with the king's impious ordinance, were pre served, after a miraculous manner, in the midst of the flames. The king, him self, a witness of this astonishing miracle, published an edict whereby all per sons whatever were forbid, upon pain of death, to speak any thing against the god of Ananias, M'sael, and Azarias. He likewise promoted these three young men to the highest honours and employments. IT Nebuchadnezzar, in the twenty-first year of his reign, and the fourth after the destruction of Jerusalem, marched again into Syria, and besieged Tyre, under the reign of Ithobal. Tyre was a strong and opulent city, which hstd never been subject to any foreign power, and was then in great repute lor its commerce, by which many of its citizens were become like so many princes in wealth, and magnificence.** It was built by the Sidcnians, two hundred and forty years before the temple of Jerusalem. For Sidon being taken by the Philistines of Ascalon, many of its inhabitants- made their escape in ships, and founded the city of Tyre. And for this reason we find it called in Isaiah, iA« * 2 Kinjs, xxiv. 1, 2. t Alias^ Jehoiachin. 2 Kinjs, rxiv. 6 — 18. + 2 King-s, xxiv. 17—20, and xxr. 1— la {A.M. 3415. Ant. J. C. 589. |j Ninety feet. ir Dan. iii. *♦ Ezek. xxvi. and xxvi, Ua. xxiii. 8. Just 1. xviii. c. 3. ToL. I. 13 i90 lilJi'TURY OF TilE daughter of Sidon,'^ But the daughter soon surpassed the mother in grandein riches, ana power. Accordingly, at the time we are speaking of, she was in * condition to resist, thirteen years together, a monarch, to whose yoke all the res! of the East had submitted. It was not till after so many years, that Nebuchadnezzar made himself mai- ler of Tyre.t His troops suffered incredible hardships before it ; so that, ac- cording to the prophet's expression, every head was made bald, and e^^ery shoulder was peeled. X Before the city was reduced to the last extremity, it* inhabitants retired, with the greatest part of their effects, mto a neighbouring isle, half a mile from the shore, where they built a new city ; the name and glory of which extinguished the remembrance of the old one, which from thencefor ward became a mere village, retaining the name of ancient Tyre. Nebuchadnezzar and his army having undergone the utmost fatigues du- ring so long and difficult a siege, and having found nothing in the place to re- quite them for the service they had rendered Almighty God, (it is the expres- sion of the prophet,) in executing his vengeance upon that city, God was pleased to promise by the mouth ofEzekiel, that he would give them the spoils of Egypt as a recompense. & And indeed Nebuchadnezzar conquered Egypt soon after, as I have more fully related in the histoiy of the Egyptians. When this prince happily finished all his wars, and was in a state of perfect peace and tran- quillity, he put the last hand to the building, or rather to tVe embellishing of Babylon. The reader may see in Josephus,|l an account uf the magnificent structures ascribed to this monarch by several writers. I have mentioned a great part of them in the description already given of that stately city.^ While nothing seemed wanting to complete Nebuchadnezzar's happiness, a frightful dream disturbed his repose, and filled him with great anxiety. He dreamed " he saw a tree in the midst of the earth, whose height was great : the tree grew and w^as strong, and the height of it reached unto heaven, and the sight thereof to the end of the earth. "The leaves were fair, and the fruit much ; and in it was meat for all : the beasts of the field had shadov/ under it, and the fowls of the heaven dwelt in the boughs thereof; and all flesh was fed of it. Then a watcher and a holy one came down from heaven and cried, hew down the tree, and cut off its branches, shake off its leaves, and scatter its fruit ; ^et the beasts get away from under it, and the fowls from its branches. Nevertheless, leave the stump of its roots in the earth, even with a band of iron and brass, in the tender grass of the field; and let it be wet with the dew of heaven, and let its portion be with the beasts in the grass of the earth. Lei his heart be changed from man's, and let a beast's heart be gi' cn unto him , and let seven times pass over him. This matter is by the decree of the watch crs, and the demand by the word of the holy ones, to the intent that the living may know, that the Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, and giveth it to whomsoever he will, and setteth up over it the basest of inen."^ The king, justly alarmed at this terrible dream, consulted all his wise men and magicians, but to no purpose. He was obliged to have recourse to Daniel, who expounded the dream, and applied it to the king's own person, plainly declarii^g to him, " That he should be driven from the company of men for ieven years, should be reduced to the condition and fellowship of the beasts of the field, and feed upon grass like a bullock : that his kingdom nevertheless ihould be preserved for him, and he should repossess his throne, when he should have learned to know and acknowledge, that all power is from above, and Cometh from heaven. After this, he exhorteth him to break off his sins by righteousness, and his iniquities by showing mercy to the poor." All these things came to pass upon Nebuchadnezzar, as the prophet had foretold. At the end of twelve months, as he was walking in his palace, and ftdoiiring the beauty and magnificence of his buildings, he said, " h noa this ♦ Im. xxiii. 12. t Jo«' ^nt 1. x.c. 11. et con. Ap. 1. i. | Exek xxix. 18, l» I JEsek. xxix. |8--?^. •J,Antiq. 1. x. c. 11 IT Dan. ir AS»\"RIANS 291 Babylon, which I have built for the house of the kingdom, by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty?" Would a secret impulse of complacenc}^ and vanity in a prince, at the sight of such noble structures erected by himself, appear to us so veiy criminal? and yet, hardly were the woids out of his mouth, when a voict came down from heaven, and pronounced his sentence: In the same hour, his understanding went fjom him; he was viriven from men, and did eat grass like oxen, and his body was v/el with the dew of heaven, till his hairs were grown like eagles' feathers, and his nails like birds' claws." After the expiration of the appointed time, he recovered his senses, and the use of his understanding : " He lifted up his eyes unto heaven," says the Scrip- ture, " and blessed the Most High; he praised and honoured him that liveth for ever, whose dominion, and whosie kingdom is from generation to generation :' ' confessing, "that all the inhabitants of the earth are as nothing before him, and that he doeth according to his will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth ; and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, what dost thou ?" Now he recovered his former countenance and form. His cour- tiers went out to seek him ; he was restored to his throne, and became greater and more powerful than ever. Being affected with the most sincere gratitude, he caused, by a solemn edict, to be published through the whole extent of his dominions, what astonishing and miraculous things God had wrought in his person. One year after this, Nebuchadnezzar died, having reigned forty-three years, reckoning from the death of his father. He was one of the greatest monarchs thrt ever reigned in the East. He was succeeded by his son, Evil-Merodach.* As soon as he was settled on the throne, he released Jechonias, king of Judah, out of prison, where he had been confined near seven and thirty years. In the reign of this Evil-Merodach, which lasted but two years, the learned place Daniers detection of the fraud practised by the priests of Bei ; the inno- cent artifice, by which he contrived to kill the aragon which was worshipped as a god ; and the miraculous deliverance of the same prophet out of the den of lions, where he had victuals brought him by the prophet Habakkuk. Evil-Merodach rendered himself so odious by his debauchery, and other ex- travagancies, that his own relations conspired against him, and put him to death. t Neriglissar, his sister's husband, and one of the chief conspirators, leigned in his stead.f Immediately on his accession to the crown, he made great preparations for war against the Medes, which made Cyaxares send for Cyrus out of Persia to his assistance. This story will be more particularly related by and by, where we shall find that this prince was slain in battle, in the fourth year of his reign. Laborosoarchod,§ his son, succeeded to the throne. This was a veiy wicked pritice. Being naturally of the most vicious inclinations, he indulged them without restraint when he came to the crown ; as if he had been invested with sovereign power, only to have the privilege of committing with impunity the most infamous and barbarous actions. He reigned but nine months ; his own subjects, conspiring against him, put him to death. His successor was Labynit, or Nabonid.II This prince had likewise other names, and in Scripture that of Belshazzar. It is reasonably supposed that he was the son of Evil-Merodach, by his wife Nitocris, arid consequently grandson to Nebu- chadnezzar, to whoni, according to Jeremiah's prophepy, the nations of the East were to be subject, as also to his son, and his grandson after him : all mttions shall serve him, and his son, and his son's son, until the very time of ha land shall c^mc.lF ♦ A. M. 3441. Ant. J. C. 563. 2 Kings, xxr. 27-~30. t Beros. Mepasthen. X A.yL. 3444. Ant. J C. 560. Cyrop. 1. i. } A. M. 3448. Ant. J. C. 566- I) A. M. 3449 4nl. J. C 555 V Jer. xxrii. 7. S92 HISTORY OF Nitocris raised many noble edifices in Babylon ; she caused her own monu ment to be placed over one of the most remarkable gates of the city, w^ith an inscription, dissuading her successors from touching the treasures laid up in it, without the most urgent and indispensable necessity. The tomb remained unopened till the reign of Darius, who, upon his breaking it open, instead of those immense treasures with which he had flattered himself, found nothing but the following inscription : ^ If thou hadst not an insatinhle thirst after money ^ and a most sordid, avari- cious soul, thou wouldst never have broken open the monuments of the dead^^ In the first year of Belshazzar's reign, Daniel had the vision of the four beasts, which represented the four great monarchies, and the kingdom of the Messiah, which was to succeed them.t In the third year of the same reign, he had the vision of the ram and the he-goat, which prefigured the destructfon of the Persian empire by Alexander the Great, and the persecution which An- tiochus Epiphanes, king of Syria, should bring upon the Jews.J I shall here- after make some reflections upon these prophecies, and give a more particular account of them. Belshazzar, while his enemies were besieging Babylon, gave a great enter- tainment to his whole court, upon a certain festival, which was annually cele- brated with great rejoicing. § The joy of this feast was greatly disturbed by a vision, and still more so by the explication which Daniel gave of it to the king. The sentence written upon the wall imported, that his kingdom was taken from him, and given to the Modes and Persians. That very night, the city was taken, and Belshazzar killed. Thus ended the Babylonish empire, after having subsisted two hundred ^nd tenyears, from the destruction of the great Assyrian empire. || The particular circumstances of the siege, and the taking of Babylon, 9^ \ be related in the history of Cyrus. CHAPTER III. TH£ KXSTOHY OF THIS HIZTGD02MC OF THE mis DBS. I OBSERVED, in speaking of the destruction of the ancient Assyrian empire, H oat Arbaces, general of the Medes, was one of the chief authors of the con- spiracy against Sardanapalus ; and several writers believed that he then im- mediately became sovereign master of Media, and many other provinces, and a^^sumed the title of king. Herodotus is not of this opinion. I shall relate what that celebrated historian says upon the subject. The Assyrians, who had for many ages held the empire of Asia, began to decline in their power by the revolt of several nations. The Medes first threw off their yoke, and maintained for some time the liberty they had acquired by their valour ; but that liberty degenerating into licentiousness, and their go- vernment not being well established, they fell into a kind of anarchy, worse than their former subjection. Injustice, violence and rapine, prevailed every where, because there was nobody that had either power enough to restrain them, or sufficient authority to punish ^he offenders. But all these disorders induced the people to settle a form of government, which rendered the state more flourishing than iUever was jefore.** The nation of the Medes was then divided into tribes. Almost all the people dwelt in vilkges, when Dejoces, the sonof Phraortes, a Mede by birth, erected the state into a monarchy. This person, seeinp* the great disorders that pre- * Her. 1. i. cap. ]85, &c. f Dan. vii. % Chap. viii. 5 Xhap. v. H A. M. 3468. Ant. J. C. 536. TT A. M. 3257. Ant. J. C. 747. Herod ). ». c. 9& THE MEDES vailed throjgfhout all Media, resolved to take advantage of tliose troubles, and make them serve to exalt him to the royal dignity. He enjoyed great repu- tation in his own countr}^ and passed for a man, not only regular in his con- duct, but possessed of all the prudence and equity necessary for a governor. As soon as he had formed the design of obtaining the throne, he labourerl to make the good qualities that had been observed in him moie conspicuous than ever ; he succeeded so well, that the inhabitants of the village where he lived made him their judge. In this office he acquitted himself with great pioidence, and his cares were attended with all the success expected from theni, for he brought the people of that village to a sober and regular life. The inhabit- ants of other villages, who were perpetually in disorder, observing the regu- l^ity Dejoces had introduced in the place where he presided as judge, began to address themselves to him, and make him arbitrator of their differences. The fame of his equity daily increasing, all such as had any affair of conse- quence, brought it before him, expecting to find that equity in Dejoces, which they could meet with no where else. When he found himself thus far advanced in his designs, he judged it a proper time vO set his last engines to work for the accomplishment of his ob- ject. He therefore retired from business, pretending to be over-fatigued with the multitude of people that resorted to him from all quarters, and would not exercise the office of judge any longer, notwithstanding all the importunity of such as wished well to the public tranquillity. Whenever any persons addressed themselves to him, he told them that his own domestic affairs w^ould not allow him to attend to those of other people. The licentiousness which had been for some time restrained by the manag(,* ment of Dejoces, began to prevail more than ever, as soon as he had w ith- drawn himself from the administration of affairs, and the evil increased to such a degree, that the Medes were obliged to assemble, and deliberate upon the means of curing so dangerous a disorder. There are different sorts of ambition; some persons, violent and impetuous, carrying every thing as it were by storm, restrained by no kind of cruelty or murder ; another sort, more gentle, like those w^e are speaking of, put on an appearance of moderation and justice, and yet by clandestine means, arrive at their point as surely as the other. Dejoces, who saw things succeeding ac- cording to his wish, sent his emissaries to the assembly, after having instructed them in the part they were to act. When expedients for stopping the course of the public evils came to be proposed, these emissaries, speaking in theii turn, represented, that unless the state of the republic was entirely changed, their country would become uninhabitable ; that the only m.eans to remedy the present disorders was to elect a king, who should have authority to re- strain violence, and make laws for the government of the nation. Then every man could prosecute his own affairs in peace and safety ; w^hereas the injustice that now reigned in all parts, would quickly force the people to abandon the country. This opinion w^as generally approved, and the whole company was convinced that no expedient could be devised more effectual for curing the present evil, than that of converting the state into a monarchy. The only thing then to be done, was to choose a king, w^hich did not take long for de- liberation. Thej^ all agreed there was not a man in Media so capable of governing as Dejoces, so that he w^as immediately, with common consent, elected king. If we reflect in the least on the first establishment of kingdoms, in any age f)r country whatever, we shall find that the maintenance of order, and the care of the public good, was the original design of monarchy. Indeed, there would bo no possibility of establishing order and peace, if all men were resolved to be independent, and would not submit to an authority which takes from them a part of their liberty, in order to preserve the rest. Mankind must be per- petually at war, if they will alvvays be striving for dominion over others, or refuse to submit to the strongest. For the sake of their own peace and safety^ HISTORY CF itkff *^jSt have a master, and must consent to obey bim. This is the huiriaR origin of government. And the Scriptures teach us, thai Divine Providence has not oiily allowed the project, and the execution of it, but consecrated il likewise by an immediate communication of his own power."* Tnere is nothing certainly more noble and great than to see^ private person, eminent for his merit and virtue, and fitted by his excellent talents for the high- est employment, and yet, through inclination and modesty, preferring a life of obscurity and retirement ; than to see ?uch a man sincerely refuse the offer made to him of reigning over a whole nation, and at last consent to undergo the toil of government, from no other motive than that of being serviceable tc his fellow-citizens. Ilis first disposition, by which he declares that he is ac- quainted with the duties, and consequently with the dangers annexed to sove- reign power, shows him to have a soul more elevated and great than greatness itself; or, to speak more justly, a soul superior to all ambition ; nothing can show him so perfectly worthy of that important charge, as the opinion he has of his not being so, and his fears of being unequal to it. ^ But when he gene- rously sacrifices his own quiet and satisfaction to the welfare and tranquillity of the public, it is plain he understands what that sovereign pcwer has in it really good, or truly valuable ; which is, that it puts a man in a condition of becoming the defender of his country, of procuring it many advantages, and of redressing various evils; of causing law and justice to flourish, of bringing virtue and probity into reputation, and of establishing peace and plenty ; and he comforts himself for the cares and troubles to which he is exposed, by the pi ospect of the many benefits resulting from them to the public. Such a go- vernor was ]Numa at Rome, and such have been some other emperors whom the people have constrained to accept the supreme power. , It must be owned I cannot help repeating it, that there is nothing more noble or great than such a disposition. But to put on the mask of modesty and vir- tue, in order to satisfy one's ambition, as Dejoces did; to affect to appear out- wardly, what a man is not inwardly, to refuse for a time, and then accept with a seeming repugnancy, what a man earnestly desires, and what he has been labouring by secret underhand practices to obtain ; has so much meanness in il, that it necessarily lessens our opinion of the person, and greatly eclipses his merit, be his talents at the same time ever so extraordinaiy. Dejoces reigned fifty-three years.t When Dejoces had ascended the throne, he endeavoured to convince the people that they were not mistaken in the choice they had made of him, for restoring order. At first, he resolved to have his dignity of king attended with all the marks that could inspire awe and respect for his person. He obliged his subjects to build him a magnificent palace in the place he appointed. This palace he strongly fortified, and chose Jut from among his people such persons as he judged most fit to be his guards. After having thus provided for his own security, he applied himself to polish and civilize nis subjects, who, having been accustomed to live in the country, and in villages, almost without laws and without polity, had contracted a sa- vage disposition. To this end, he commanded them to build a city, himself marking out the place and circumference of the walls. This city was sur- rounded with seven distinct walls, all disposed in such a manner, that the outermost did not hinder the parapet of the second from being seen, nor the second that of tne third, and so of all the rest. The situation of the place was extremely favourable for such a design, for it was a regular hill, whose ascent was equal on every side. Within the last and smallest enclosure stoos • the king's palace, with all his treasures ; in the sixth, which was next to that, there were seveiol apartments for lodging the officers of his household ; and the intermediate spaces, between the other walls, were appointed for the ha- bitation of ihe people; the first and largest enclosure was about the size of Athens. The name of the city was Ecbatana. • Rom jin. 1. % t A.M. 3294. Ant. J. C. 710. Her. 1 i THE MEDEfi. 0<)^ The prospect of it was magnificent and beautiful , for, besides the disposi ion of the walls, which formed a kind of amphitheatre, the different colours '^herewith the several parapets were painted, formed a delightful variety. After the c'^y was finished, and Dejoces had obliged part of the Medes to lettlein it, hi turned all his attention to composing laws for the good of the Uafe But being persuaded that the majesty of kings is most respected afar Dif, major ex loiiginquo reverentia^^ he began to keep himself at a distance from his people, was almost inaccessible and invisible to his suljjects, not suf- fering them to speak, or communicate their affaiis to him but only by peliiions, and the interposition of his officers. And even those that had tbe privilege of approaching him, might neither laugh nor spit in his presence. This great statesman acted in this manner, in order the better to secure to him- self the possession of the crown. For, having to deal with men yet uncivi* lized, and not very capable judges of true merit, he was afraid that too great a familiarity with him might induce contempt, and occasion plots and conspira- cies against a growing power, which is generally looked upon with envy and discontent. But by keejiing himself thus concealed from the eyes of the peo- ple, and making hiroiu«, Chroti. Grvc. :in about to over- run all Asia. The two armies engaged, and the Medes wvr,^, vanquished. The barbarians finding no other obstacle in their way, overspread not only Media, bu'. almost all Asia. After that, they marched to- w^Vih Egypt, from whence Psammeticus diverted their course by presents. They then returned into Palestine, where some of them plundered the temple of Venus at Ascalon, the most ancient temple dedicated to that goddess. Some of these Scythians settled at Bethshean, a city in the tribe of Manasseh,on this side Jordan, which from them was afterwards called Scythopolis. The Scythians for the space of twenty-eight years, were masters of Upper Asia ; namely, the two Armenias, Cappadocia, Pontus, Colchis, and Iberia ; during which time they spread desolation wherever they came. The Medes had no way of getting rid of them, but by a treacherous stratagem. Under pretence of cultivating and strengthening the alliance they had made together, they invited the greatest part of them to a general feast, which was made in every family Each master of the feast made his guests drunk, and in that condition the Scythians were massacred. The Medes then repossessed them- selves of the provinces they had lost, and once more extended their empire to the banks of the Halys, which was their ancient western boundary. The remaining Scythians, who were not at the banquet, having heard of the massacre of their countrymen, fled into Lydia to king Halyttes, who received them with great humanity.* This occasioned a war between those two princes. Cyaxares immediately led his troops to the frontiers of Lydia. Many battles were fought during the space of five years, with almost equal advantage on both sides. The battle fought in the sixth year was very remarkable, on ac- count of an eclipse of the sun, which happened during the engagement, when on a sudden the day was turned into a dark night. Thales, the Milesian, had foretold this eclipse. The Medes and Lydians, who were then in the heat of »he battle, equally terrified with this unforeseen event, which they looked upon is a sign of the anger of the gods, immediately retreated on both sides, and nade peace. Siennesis, king of Cilicia, and Nebuchodonosor,! king of Baby- lon, were the mediators. To render the friendship more firm and inviolable, the two princes agreed to strengthen it by the tie of marriage, and agreed, that Halyttes should give his daughter Aryenis to Astyages^ eldest son of Cyaxares. The manner those people had of contracting alliance with one another, is rery remarkable. Besides other ceremonies, which the}^ had in common with the Greeks, the following was peculiar to themselves, namely, the two contract- ng parties made incisions in their own arms, and licked one another's blood. The first care of Cyaxares, as soon as he found himself again in peace, was tc resume the siege of Nineveh, which the irruptions of the Scythians had obliged hifu to raise. Nabopolassar, king of Bcfbylon, with whom he had lately con- tracted a particular alliance, joined with him in the league against the As^- would bring vengeance upon that impious city for the blood of his servant;, 9vi\h which the kings thereof had gorged themselves, like ravenous liou i , ♦ Herod. 1. i. c. 74. -f In Herodotus he ir called Labyaetu*. i A.M. 3378. Ant. J. C. 6QS. Herod. 1. c. 206 293 HISTORY OF that he himself would march at the head of the troops iiat should come !• besiege it ; that he would cause consternation and terror to go before them*, that he would deliver the old men, the mothers, and their children, into the merciless hands of the soldiers ; that all the treasures of the city should fall into the hands of rapacious and insatiable plunderers ; and that the city itself . should be so totally and utterly destroyed, that not so much as a trace of it should be left ; and that the people should ask hereafter, where did the proud city of Nineveh stand ? But let us hear the language of the prophets themselves ; " woe to the bloody city, cries Nahum ; it is all full of lies and robbery ;* he that dasheth in pieces is come up before thy face. The Lord cometh to avenge the cruel- ties done to Jacob and Israel.! I hear already the noise of the whip, and the noise of the rattling of the wheels, and of the prancing horses, and of the bound ing chariots. The horseman lifteth up both the bright sword and the glitter inc; ^ij L i * The shield of his mighty men is made red ; the valiant men are in scarlet. They shall seem like torches, they shall run like the lightning.§ God is jealous ; the Lord revengeth, and is furious. The mountains quake at him. and the hills melt, and the earth is burnt at his presence : who can stand beio] e his indignation ? And who can abide in the fierceness of his anger ?i| Deliold 1 am with thee, saith the Lord of hosts ; I will strip thee of all thy or naments.^ Take ye the spoil of silver, take the spoil of gold ; for there is no end of the store and glory out of all the pleasant furniture. She is empty, and void, and waste. Nineveh is destroyed ; she is overthrown, she is deso- late.*''^ The gates of the rivers shall be opened, and the palace shall be dis- solved, jj And Huzzab shall be led away captive ; she shall be brought up, and her maids shall lead her as with the voice of doves tabouring upon their breasts. I see a multitude of slain, and a great number of carcases ;§§ and (here is no end of their corpses ; they stumble upon their corpses. || 11 Where is the dwelling of lions, and the feeding place of the young lions, where the lion, even the old lion, walked, and the lion's whelp, and none made them afraid : wheie the lion did tear in pieces enough for his whelps, and strangled for hia lionesses : and filled his holes with prey, and his dens with rapine ?irir The Loi d shall destroy Assur. He shall depopulate that city, which was so beau- tiful, and turn it into a land where no man cometh, and into a desert. It shall be a duelling place for wild beasts, and the birds of night shall lurk therein^ Behold, it shall be said, see that proud city, which was so stately, and so ex- alted ; which said in her heart, I am the only city, and besides me there is no o'her. All they that pass by her, shall scolf at her, and shall insult her with hissings and contemptuous gestures."*! The two armies enriched themselves with the spoils of Nineveh ; and Cv- axares prosecuting his victories, made himself master of all the cities of th** kingdom of Assyria, except Babylon and Chaldea, which belonged to Nabo- polassar. After this expedition, Cyaxares died, and left his dominions to his son As- tyages. AsTYAGES reigned thirty-five years.*^ This prince is called in Scripture Ahasuerus. Though his reign continued no less than thirty-five years, yet we have no particulars recorded of it in histoiy. He had two children, whose names are famous, namely, Cyaxares, by his wife Aryenis, and Mandana by a former marriage. In his father's lifetime, he married Mandana to Cambyses, * Nahum, iii. 1. t Chap. ii. 1, 2. | Chap. iii. 2, 3. } Chap. H S, 4. {| Nahum, i. 2, 5, 6. IT Chap. iii. 6. ** Chap. ii. 9, 10. The author in this place renders it, her temple is destroyed to the foundation. But I have chosea !• Mlovr our Eng'lish Bible, thoiifrh in the Latin it is templvm. \X Nahum, ii. 6. Chap. iii. S. ■jj^j This is a noble image of the cruel avarice of the i^ssyrian kinga, who pillaged and plundered Mieir neij^^hbouring nations, eipecially Judea, and carried away the spoils of them to Nineveh. Nahum. li. 11. J3 *t Zephan. ii. 13—15. *X A. M. 3409. Aat. J C. S9i. 2% Uhj of Achemenefj, king of Persia ; from this mamago sprung Cyrus, who vva^ born but one year after the birth of his uncle Cyaxares. The latter sue cecded his father in the kingdom of the Medes. Cyaxares II. This prince is in Scripture called Darius the Mede. Cyrus, having taken Babylon, in conjunction with his uncle Cyaxares, left it under his government. After the death of his uncle, and his father Cambyses, he united the kingdoms of the Medes and Persians into one ; in the sequel, therefore, of this discourse, they will be considered only as one empire. I shall begin the history of that empire with the reign of Cyrus ; which will include also what is known of the reigns of his two predecessors, Cyaxares and Asty- ages. But I shall previously give some account of the kingdom of Lydia, be- cause Croesus, its king, has a considerable share in the events of which I am to apeak CHAPTER IV. THE HISTORY OF THE I.YDZANS. The kings who first reigned over the Lydians, are by Herodotus, called Atyades ; that is, descendants from Atys.* These he tells us, derived their origin from Lydus, the son of Atys ; and Lydus gave the name of Lydians to that people, who, before his time, were called Mceonians. These Atyades were succeeded by the Heraclidae, or descendants of Her- cules, who possessed this kingdom for the space of five hundred and five years. Argo, great-grandson of Alcaeus, son of Hercules, was the first of the Hera- :Iidae who reigned in Lydia.t The last was Candaules. This prince was married to a lady of exquisite beauty, and being infatuated by his passion for her, was perpetually boasting of her charms to others. Nothing would serve him but thatGyges, one of his chief officers, should see and judge of them by his own eyes,J as if the husband's own know- ledge of them was not sufficient for his happiness, or the beauty of his wife would have been impaired by his silence. For this purpose, the king placed Gyges secretly in a convenient place ; but notwithstanding that precaution, the (jueen perceived him when he retired, yet took no manner of notice of it : judging, as the historian represents it, that the most valuable treasure of a woman is her modesty ; she studied a signal revenge for the injury she had received, and to punish the fault of her husband, committed a still greater crime. Possibly a secret passion for Gyges had as great a share in that action as her resentment for the dishonour done her. Be that as it will, she sent for Gyges, and obliged him to expiate his crime either by his own death or the king's, at his own option. After some remonstrances to no purpose, he resolved upon the latter, and by the murder of Candaules, became master of his queen and his throne. By this means the kingdom passed from the family of the Heraclidae into that of the Mermnades.§ Archilochus, the poet, lived at this time, and, as Herodotus informs u&, spoke of this adventure of Gyges in his poems. I cannot forbear mentioning, in this place, what is related by Herodotus, that among the Lydians, and almost all other barbarians, it was considered shameful and infamous even for a man to appear naked. These instances of modesty, which are met with among pagans, ought to be greatly admired. We are assured, that among the Romans, a son, who was come to the age of maturity, never went into the baths with his father, nor even a son-in-law with his father- Jti-Saw ; and this modesty and decency were looked upon by them as a law of ♦ Herod. 1. i. c. 7— 13. t>-M. 2781. Ant J. C. 122S. X Non contentus voluptatam suarurn tacila consclentia — prorsus quasi sUentium d tmnum pal«hiltiiAiiu« IMet.—^uftin. 1. i. c. 7. I A.M. 0386 Ant. J. C. 7ia. soo niSTOllV OF nature, the violation of which was criminal;* It is astonishing, that auiong'irt our magistrates take no care to preveiit this disorder, which in the mid^^t of Pans, at the season of bathing, is openly committed witli impunity ; a disordei so visibly contrary to the ruks of common decency, so dangerous to young persons of both sexes, and so severely CQndemned by paganism itself. Plato relates the story of Gyges in a different manner from Herodotus. He tells us that Gyges wore a ring, the stone of which, when turned towards him rendered him invisible ; so that he had the advantage of seeing others, without being seen himself; and that by means of that ring, with the concurrence of the queen, he deprived Candaules of his life and throne. This probably sig- nifies, that in order to compass his criminal design, he used all the tricks and stratagem.s the world calls subtle and refined policy, which penetrates into the most secret purposes of others, without making the least discovery of its own The story, thus explained, carries in it a greater appearance of truth, than what we read in Herodotus.j Cicero, after having related this fable of Gyges's famous ring, adds, that if a wise man had such a ring, he would not use it to any wicked purpose ; be cause virtue considers what is honourable and just, and has no occasion foi darkness.! Gyges§ reigred thirty-eight years. The murder of Candaules raised a se- dition among the Lydians. The two parties, instead of coming tO blows, agreed to refer the matter to the decision of the Delphic oracle, who declared in favour of Gyges. The king made large presents to the temple at Delphos, which undoubtedly preceded, and had no little influence upon the oracle's answer. Among other things of value, Herodotus mentions six golden cups, weighing thirty talents, amounting to near a million of French money. || As soon as he was in peaceable possession of the throne, he 'made war against Miletus, Smyrna, and Colophon, three powerful cities belonging to the neigh- bouring states. After he had reigned thirty-eight years he died, and was succeeded by his son, Ardys,1[ who reigned forty-nine years. It was in the reign of this prince that the Cimmerians, driven out of their country by the Scythian Nomades, went into Asia, and took the city of Sardis, but not the citadel. Sadyattes*"^ reigned twelve years. This prince declared war against the Milesians, and laid siege to their city. In those days the sieges, which were generally nothing more than blockades, were carried on very slowly, and lasted many years. This king died before he had finished that of Miletus, and wa? succeeded by his son. HALYTTEstt reigned fifty-seven years. This prince made Avar against Cy- axares, king of Media. He likewise drove the Cimmerians out of Asia. He attacked and took the cities of Smyrna and Clazomense. He vigorously pro- secuted the war against the Milesians, begun by his father, and continued the siege of their city, which had lasted six years under his father, and continued as many under him. It ended at length in the following manner: Halyttes, upon an answer he received from the Delphic oracle, had sent- an ambassador into the city, to propose a truce for some months. Thrasybulus, tjn-ant of Mi- letus, having notice of his coming, ordered all the corn, and other provisions, collected by him and his subjects for their support, to be brought into the pub* ic market, and commanded the citizens, that at the appearance of a gives signal, there should be general feasting and jollity. The thing was executed according to his orders. The Lydian ambassador, at his arrival, was in the ut- Nostro quidem more cum parentlbus i)uberes filii, cum soceris generi, non lavantur. Retinenc'a est iji- lur huius g-eneris verecundia, prarisertim natura ipsamajislra et duce. — Cic. 1. i. de Olfic. n. 129 Nudare se nefasesse credebalur. — Val. Max. I. ii. cap. 1. t Plato de Rep. 1. ii. p. 359. } Hunc ipsum annulum si habeat sapiens, nihilo plus sibi licere putet peccare, quam si non habere!. Ho- oeyta enim bonis virls, non occulta, quaeruntur. — Lib. iii. de OflBc. n. 38. S A. M. 3^36. Ant. J. C. 718. Hei-od. 1. i. c. 13, 44. /| About ^213,120. % X. U. 3324 Aut. J. C. 680. Herod. 1. i. c. 15. ** A. M. 3373. Ant J. C. 631. Herod. I l.o 16.2^ tt A. M.S885. Ant. J. C. 6:9. Herod, c. 21 22- THE lA'mAXi^ 501 TAOSt surprise to see such a plenty in the market, and Kwcn cheerfulness in lh« city. His master, to whom he gave an account of what he nad seen, con- cluding that his project of reducing the place hy farnine would never suc- ceed, T3referred peace to so fruitless a w^ar, and immediately raised the siege. Crcesus.* His veiy name, which is become a proverb, carries in it an iilea of immense riches. The wealth of this prince, to judge of it only by the pje ^ents he made to the temple of Delphos, must have been excessively great. Most of those presents were still to be seen in the time of Herodotus, and we t- north several millions. We may partly account for the treasures of this prnx r . from certain mines that he had, situated, according to Strabo, between Fei|i,a- mus and Atarnes ; as also from the little river Pactolus, the sand of which Wc»s g-old. But in Strabo's time this river had not the same advantage.! It is worthy of notice that this uncommon affluence, did not enervate or sof- ten the courage of Croesus. He thought it unworthy of a prince to spend his time in idleness arid pleasure. On the contrary he was constantly engaged in war, made several conquests, and enlarged his dominions by the addition of all the contiguous provinces, as Phrygia, Mysia, Paphlagonia, Bithynia, Pam- phylia, and all the country of the Carians, lonians, Dorians, and ^Eolians. He- rodotus observes, that he was the first conqueror of the Greeks, who till then had never been subject to a foreign power. Doubtless he must mean the Greeks settled in Asia Minor.J But what is slill more extraordinary in this prince, though he w^as so im- mensely rich, and so great a warrior, yet his chief delight was in literature and the sciences. His court was the ordinary residence of those famous learned men, so revered by antiquity, distinguished by the name of the seven wise men of Greece. Solon, one of the most celebrated among them, after having established new laws at Athens, thought he might absent himself for some years, and improve that time by travelling. He w^ent to Sardis, where he was received in a matj ner suitable to the reputation of so great a man. The king, attended with a numerous court, appeared in all his regal pom.p and splendour, dressed in the most magnificent apparel, enriched with gold, and glittering with diamonds. Notwithstanding the novelty of this spectacle to Solon, it did not appear that he was the least moved at it, or that he uttered a word w^hich discovered the least surprise or admiration. On the contrary, people of sense might sufficient- ly discern from his behaviour, that he looked upon all this outward pomp as an liidication of a little mind,w4iich knows not in what true greatness and dignity consist. This coldness and indifference in Solon's first approach, gave (lie kin^ no favourable opinion of his new guest.§ He afterwards ordered that all his treasures, his magnificent apartments, and costly furniture, should be exhibited to him ; as if he expected, by the miil- t'tude of his fine vessels, diamonds, statues, and paintings, to conquer the phi- losopher's indifference. But these things were not the king; and it was the king that Solon had come to visit, and not the walls or chambers of his palace. He had no notionof making a judgment of the king, or an estimate of his worth j by these outward appendages, but by himself, and his ow^n personal qualities. Were' we to judge at present by the same rule, we should find many of oui great men wretchedly naked and destitute. When Solon had seen all, he was brought back to the king. Crcesus then asked him, w^hich of mankind, in all his travels, he had found the most truly happy ? " One Tellus," replied Solon, " a citizen of Athens, a very honest and good man, who lived all his days without indigence, had always seen hu country in a flourishing condition, had children that were universally esteemed, with the satisfaction of seeing those children's children, and at last died gloriously in fighting for his country." ♦ A. M. 3442. Ant. J. C. 562. t Str&b. 1. xlil. p. 025. and 1. xiv. p .6ML I lUrod. 1 i. c. 36—23. j Hci^d. 1. c. 29—53. Plut. in Soiene. y. 9t, H, Such an answer as this, in which gold and silver were accounted as nothing; seemed to Croesus to argue a strange ignorance and stupidity. However, as he flattered himself of being ranked in the second degree of happiness, he asked him, " who of all those he had seen, was the next in felicity to Tellus ?" Solon answered, Cleobis and Biton, of Argos, two brothers,* who had left behind them a perfect pattern of fraternal afieclion, and of the respect due from chil- dren to their parents. Upon a solemn festival, when their mother, a priestess of Juno, was to go to the temple, the oxen that were to draw her not being ready, the two sons put themselves to the yoke, and drew their mother's chariot thither, which was above fiv^e miles distant. All the mothers of the place filled with admiration, congratulated the priestess on the piety of her sons She, in the transports of her joy and thankfulness, earnestly entreated the go(i dess to reward her children with the best thing that heaven can give to mai^. Her prayers were heard. When the sacrifice was over, her two sons fell asleep in the very temple, and there died in a soft and peaceful slumber.j In honoui of their piety, the people of Ai^os consecrated statues to them in the temple of Delphos.'^ " What then," says Croesus, in a tone that showed his discontent, " you do not reckon me in the number of the happy ?" Solon, who was not willing either to flatter, or exasperate him any farther, replied calmly: "King of Lydia, besides many other advantages, the gods have given us Grecians a spii it of moderation and reserve, which has produced among us a plain, popular kind of philosophy, accompanied with a certain generous freedom, void of pride or ostentation, and therefore not well suited to the courts of kings ; this philo- sophy, considering what an infinite number of vicissitudes and accidents the life of man is liable to, does not allow us either to glory in any prosperity we ourselves enjoy, or to admire happiness in others, which perhaps may prove only transient or superficial." From hence he took occasion to represent to him farther, " that the life of man seldom exceeds seventy years, which make up in all six thousand two hundred and fifty days, of which no two are exactly alike ; so that the time to come is nothing but a series of various accidents which cannot be foreseen. Therefore, in our opinion," continued he, ' no man can be esteemed happy, but he whose happiness God continues to the end of his life ; as for others, who are perpetuall}' exposed to a thousand dag- gers, we account their happiness as uncertain as the crown is to a person that is still engaged in battle, and has not yet obtained the victory." Solon re- tired, when he had spoken these words, which served only to mortify Crcesus, but not to reform him.J ^^sop, the author of the fables, was then at the court of this prince, by whom he was very kindly entertained. He was concerned at the unhandsome treat- ment Solon received, and said to him by way of advice,§ " Solon, we must either not come near princes at all, or speak things that are agreeable to them." Say rather," replied Solon, " that we should either never come near them a( all, or else speak such things as may be for their good." In Plutarch's time, some of the learned were of opinion, that this interviev/ between Solon and Croesus did not agree with the dates of chronology. But as those dates are very uncertain, that judicious author did not think this ob- jection ought to prevail against the authority of several creditable writei-s, by whom this story is attested. What we have now related of Croesus is a very natural picture of the be- bavioifr of kings and great men, who for the most part are seduced by flattery j and shows us, at the same time, the two sources from whence that blindness ] The fatigue of drawing the chariot might be the cause of it. t Avn-haai ^tv, a vshrhcras 5i tov Kforcrov. } *n XdXcov (i(pn ToU ^aaikevai deT tos hm^afi us hdisa 'oixiKeTv- Kai o Eo'Xwv. Mi A» (f rjr£»ciJUL' * tis ^Krra h u)S ifa* The jingle of the words us r\ni7a ri C»s r\5'Sa, which is a bcautj in the nr%MHw. feeeause it it foundadi 3 the sense, cannot b« randered into anjr other languaga THE LYDIATvS. SOS ^flw^rally proceeds. The one is, a secret inclination which all men have, but eipecially the great, of receiving praise without any precaution, and judging favourably of all tjiat admire them, or show an unlimited submission and com pbisance to their humours. The other is, the great resemblance there is be tween flattery and a sincere affection, or a reasonable respect ; which is some limes counterfeited so exactly, that the wisest may be deceived, if they are not rery much upon their guard. Croesus, if we judge of him by the character he bears in history > was a very gvn'd prince, and worthy of esteem in many respects. He had a great deal of good nature, affability, and humanity. His palace was a resort for men of wit and learning, which shows, that he himself was a person of learning, and had a taste for sciences. His weakness was, that he laid a great stress upon ' iches and magnificence, thought himself great and happy in proportion to his pos- sessions, mistook regal pomp and splendour for true and solid greatness, and fed his vanity with the excessive submissions of those that stood in a kind of adoration before him. ' Those learned men, those wits, and other courtiers, who surrounded this prince, eat at his table, partook of his pleasures, shared his confidence, and enriched themselves by his bounty and liberality, took care not to differ from the prince's taste, and never thought of undeceiving him with respect to his errors or false ideas. On the contrary, they made it their business to cherish and strengthen them in him, extolling him perpetually as the most opulent prince of his age, and never speaking of his wealth, or the magnificence of his palace, but in terms of admiration and rapture ; because they knew this was the s'ire way to please him, and to secure his favour. For flattery is nothing else than a commerce of falsehood and lying, founded upon interest on one side, and vanity on the other. The flatterer desires to advance himself, and make his fortune ; the prince to be praised and admired, because he is his own first flatterer, and carries within himself a more subtile and better prepared poison than any adulation can give him. That saying of ^sop, who had formerly been a slave, and still retained somewhat of the spirit and character of slavery, though he had varnished it over with the address of an artful courtier ; " that we should either not come near kings, or say what is agreeable to them," shows us with what kind of men Crcesus had filled his court, and by what means he had banished all sin- cerity, integrity, and duty from his presence. Therefore we see he could not bear that noble and generous freedom in the philosopher, upon which he ought to have set an infinite value, as he would have done, had he but understood the worth of a friend, who, attaching himself to the person, and not to the fortune of a prince, has the courage to tell him disagreeable truths ; truths unpalatable, and bitter to self-love at the present, but that may prove very salutary and serviceable for the future Die ilUs, non quod volunt audire^ sea quod audisse temper volent. These are Seneca's own words, where he is endeavouring to show, of what great use a faithful and sincere friend may be to a prince ; and what he adds farther seems to be written on purpose for Croesus : Give him," gays he, " wholesome advice. Let a word of truth once reach those ears, which are perpetually fed and entertained with flattery. You'll ask me, what service can be done to a person arrived at the highest pitch of felicity ? It will teach him not to trust in his prosperity ; it will remove that vain confidence he has in his power and greatness, as if they were to endure for ever ; make him un- derstand, that every thing which belongs to and depends upon fortune, is as unstable as herself; and that there is often but the space of a moment between the highest elevation and the most unhappy downfall."* * Plenas aures adnlatiombus aliquando vera vox intret ; da consilium utile. Q,uaeris, quid felici pnBstar« possis f Effice, nc felicitati sua? credat. Parum in ilium contuleris, si illi semel stultam fiduciam pr.raatj^ •arae fempcr potentiae excusseris, docuerisque mobilia esse quas deditcafus* ac isepe inter fortiiBMi lai&m at ultimam nihil interesse. — Sen. de Benef. 1. vi. c. 93, 304 HISTORY or It was not long before Crcesus experienced me truth of what Solon had U c him. He had two sons ; one of whom being dumb, was a perpetual subject of affliction to him ; the other, named Atys, was distinguished by '^very goud quality, and his great consolation and delight. The father dreamed one night, which made a great impression upon his mind, that this beloved son of his was to perish by iron. This became a new source of anxiety and trouble, and care was taken to remove cut of the young prince's way every thing made o^iron, as partisans, lances, javelins, &c. No mention was made of armies, wars, or sieges, before him. But one day there was to be an extraordinary himting-match, for the killing of a wild boar, which had committed great ravage m the neighbourhood. All the young lords of the court were to be at this hunting. Atys very earnestly importuned his father, that he would give him * leave to be present, at least as a spectator. The king could not refuse him that request, but let him go under the care of a discreet young prince, who had taken refuge in his court, and was named Adrastus. And this very Adras* tus, as he was aiming to throw his javelin at the boar, unfortunately killed Atys. It is impossible to express either the affliction of the father, when he heard of this fatal accident, or of the unhappy prince, the innocent author of the murder, who expiated his fault with his blood, stabbing hir^iself in the breast with his own sword, upon the funeral-pile of the unfortunate Atys.* Two years were spent on this occasion in deep mourning, the afflicted fa- ther's thoughts being wholly taken up with the loss he had sustained. But the growing reputation, and great qualities of Cyrus, who began to make him- self known, roused him out of his lethargy. He thought it behoved him to put a stop to the power of the Persians, which was enlarging itself eyery day As he was very religious in his way, he would never enter upon any enter- orise, without consulting -he gods. But, that he might not act blindly, and to t)e able to form a certain judgment on the answers he should receive, he was willing to assure' himself beforehand of the truth of the oracles : For which purpose, he sent messengers to all the most celebrated oracles both of Greece and Africa, with orders to inquire, every one at his respective oracle, what CrcBSus was doing on such a day, and such an hour, before agreed on. His orders were punctually observed, and of all the oracles, none gave a true an- swer but that of Delphos. The answer was given in Greek hexameter verses, and was in substance as follows : / know the number of the grains of sand on the sea-shore^ arid fue measure of the ocean' s vast extent. I can hear the dumb, and him that has not yet learned to speak, A strong smell of a tortoise boiled in brass, together with sheep^s flesh, has reached my nostrils, brass beneath^ brass above. And indeed, the king, lhinki!i|5^ to invent something that could not possibly be guessed at, had employed himself, on the day and hour set down, in boiling a tortoise and a lamb in a brass pot, which had a brass cover. St. Austin observes in several places, that God to punish the blindness of the pa- gans, sometimes permitted the devils to give answers conformably to the truth. t Croesus, thus assured of the god's veracity, whom he designed to consult, offered three thousand victims to his honour, and ordered an infinite number of vessels, tripods, and golden tables, to be melted down, and converted into mgots of gold, to the number of a hundred and seventeen, to augment the trea- sure sof the Delphic temple. Each of these ingots weighed at least two ta- lents ; besides which, he made several other presenls : among them Herodo- tus mentions a golden lion, weighing ten talents, and two vessels of an extra- ordinary size, one of gold, which weighed eight talents and a half, and tAvelve minae ; the other of silver, which contained six hundred of the measures cal- led amphoras. All these presents, and many more, which, for brevity's sake, I omit, were to be seen in the time of Herodotus. The messengers were ordered to consult the god upon two pomts ; first, whether Croesus should undertake a war against the Persians ; secondly, if he * HoFod. I. i.e. 31 35. f Ilerod. 1. i. c. 46—50 dirl, whether he should require the succour of any auxiliary tx"(xjps. The ora- cle ansv/ered upon the first article, that if he carried his arms against the Per- sians, he would subvert a great empire; upon the second, he would do well to in:ike alliances with the most powerful states of Greece. He consulted tlie oracle again to know how long the duration of his empire would be. The answer was, it should subsist till a mule came to possess the throne of Me dia ; \vhich he construed to signify the perpetual duration of his kingdom. Pursuant to the direction of the oracle, Croesus entered into an alliance witk the Atiienians, who at that time had Pisistralus at their head, and with the La cedamonians, who were indisputa[)ly the two most powerful states of Greece A certain Lydian, much esteemed for his prudence, gave Croesus on this occasion very judicious advice. "O prince," says he to him, "why do you fliink of turning j^our arms against such a people as the Persians, who, being l^orn in a wild, rugged country, are inured from their infancy to every kind of hardship and fatigue ; wiio being coarsely clad, and coarsely fed, can content themselves with bread and water ; who are absolute strangers to all the deli- cacies and conveniences of life ; who, in a word, have nothing to lose if you conquer them, and every thing to gain if they conquer you ; and whom it would be very difficult to drive out of our country, if they should once come to taste the sweets and advantages of it ? So far, therefore, from thinking of commencing a wnv against them, it is my opinion we ought to thank the gods, that they have never put it into the heads of the Persians to come and attack the I ydi ai:s,'' But Crcesus had taken his resolution, and would not be diverted trom it.* What rema ins of the history of Croesus wdll be found in that of Cynjs, which 1 5-l::i!l now commence BOOK FOURTH. THE FOUNDATION OF THE EMFIRE OF THE MEDIiS AND PERSIANS, BY CYRUS. CONTAINING THE REIGNS OF CFRUS, CAMBYSES AND SMERDIS THE MAGIAN. PLAN. rhcM three reigns will be the subject matter of the Fourth Book. But as the two latter are rery tbort and contarin few importaiit facts, this book, properly speaking, may be called the History of Cynit. CHAPTER 1. THIS HISTORY OF CYRUS. ■ Che history of this prince is differently related by Herodotus and Xenophon. I follow the latter, as infinitely more worthy of credit in this respect than the former. As to those facts wherein they differ, I shall briefly relate what Hero- dotus says of them. It is well known, that Xenoohon served a long time un- der Cyrus the younger, who had in his troops a great number of Persian no- blemen, with whom undoubtedly this writer, who was of an inquisitive miud often conversed, that he might acquaint himself by these means with the man- ners and customs of the Persians, with their conquests in general, but more particularly with those of the prince who had founded their monarchy, and whose history he proposed to write. This he tells us himself, in the beginning vf his Cyropaedia : " Having always looked upon this great man as worthy oi •\dmiration, I took a pleasure in informing myself of his birth, his natural tern per, and education, that I might know by what means he became so great a prince : and herein I advance nothing but what has been related to me." As to what Cicero says, in his first letter to his brother Quintus, "that Xeno- phon's design, in writing the history of Cyrus, was not so much to follow truth, as to give a model of a just governm.ent this )ught not to lessen the au- Ihority of that judicious historian, or make us give the less credit to what he relates. All that can be inferred from thence is, that the design of Xenophon, who was a great philosopher, as w^ell as a great captain, was not merely to write the history of Cyrus, but to represent him as a model and example to princes, for their instruction in the art of governing, and of gaining the love of their subjects, notwithstanding the pomp and elevation of their stations. With this view he may possibly have lent his hero some thoughts, some sentiments, or discourses of his own. But the substance of the facts and events he relate* are to be deemed true : and of this their conformity with the holy Scripture * Cyruf iMe a Xeuophonte, non ad historie gdem scriptui, sed ad eiBp^iem justi imperii , SOS HtSTOIlY OF CYitU**. iscf itself a sufficient proof. The reader may see the dissertauoi. . the Ab- Banier upon this subject, in the Memoirs of the Academy of Polite Lite- rature.* For greater perspicuity I have divided the history of Cyrus into three parts. The fcl will reach from his birth to the siege of Babylon ; the second i will comprehend the description of the siege, and the taking of that city, with I every thing else tha-t relates to that great event ; the third will contain 'hat prince's history, from the taking of Babylon to his death. ARTICLE L THE HISTORY OF CYRUS FROM HIS INFANCY TO THE SIEGE OF BABYLON. This interA^al, besides his education, and the journey he made to his grand- father Astyages in Media, includes the first campaigns of Cyrus, and tir^e im- portant expeditions subsequent to them. SECTION I. — EDUCATION OF CYRUS. Cyrus was the son of Cambyses. king of Persia, and of Mandana, daoghtei of Astyages, king of the Medes.j He was born one year after his uncle Cy- axares, the brother of Mandana.J The Persians consisted at this time of twelve tribes, who inhabited only one province of that vast country which has since borne the name of Persia, and did not amount to more than one hundred and twenty thousand men. But this people having afterwards, through the wisdom and valour of Cyrus, ac- quired the empire of the East, the name of Persia extended itself with their conquests and fortune, and comprehended all that vast tract of land, which reaches from east to west, from the river Indus to the Tigris ; and from north | to south, from the Caspian sea to the ocean.§ Cyrus was beautiful in his person, and still more lovely for the qualities of his mind ; was of a very sweet disposition, full of good-nature and humanity, and had a great desire to learn, and a noble ardour for glory. He was nevef afraid of any danger, or discouraged by any hardship- or difficulty, where hon- our was to be acquired. He was brought up according to the laws and customs of the Persians, which were excellent in those days with respect to education. The public good, the common benefit of the nation, was the only principle and end of all their laws. The education of children was looked upon as the most important duty, and the most essential part of government : it was not ^ left to the care of fathers and mothers, whose blind affection and fondness often render them incapable of that office ; but the state took it upon themselves. Boys were all brought up in common, after one uniform manner ; where every thing was regulated, the place and length of their exercises, the times of eating, the quality of their meat and drink, and their different kinds of punishment. The only food allowed either the children or the young men, was bread, cresses, and water ; for their design was to accustom them early to temperance and sobriety : besides, they considered, that a plain frugal diet, without any mixture of sauces or ragouts, would strengthen the body, and lay such a founda- tion of health, as would enable them to undergo the hardships and fatigues of war to a good old age.H Here boys went to school to learn justice and virtue, as they do in other piace.o to learn arts and sciences ; and the crime most severely punished among them, was ingratitude. The design of the Persians, in all these wise regulations, was to prevent evil, being convinced how much better it is to prevent faults than to punish them : and whereas, in other states, the legislators are satisfied with establishing punish- * Vol. vi. p. 400. t Xen. Cyrop. I. i. p. 3. | A. M. 3405. Ant. J. C. \ Persia continued to occupy the same extent of territory, until the kingdom of Cabul was ree«ltj|^ erected, froir- the eastern part. j] Cyrop. 1. i. p 3 — 8. HISTORY OF CrKUS. S09 ments for criminal?, the Persians endeavoured so^to order it, as to have no crimi lals among them. Till sixteen or seventeen years of age, the boys remained in the class of child- ren, in which they learned to draw the bow, and to throw the dart or javelin ; aUer which, they were received into the class of young men. In this class they were more narrowly watched, and kept in stricter subjection than before, because that a^e requires the closest inspection, and has the greatest need of restraint. Hei!.- the}'' remained ten years ; during which time ihey passed all their nights in Keeping guard, as well for the safety of the city, as to inure themselves to fatigue. In the day-time they waited upon their governors, tc receive their orders, attended the kingjn his huntmg, or improved themselves fh their exercises. The third class consisted of men grown up, and Ibrmed; and in this they remained live and twenty years. Out of these, all the officers that were to command in the troops, and all such as were to fill the different posts and em- ployments in the state, were chosen. When fifty years of age, they were not obliged to carry arms out of their own country. Besides these, there was a fourth or last class, from whence men of the great- est wisdom and experience were chosen, for forming the public council, and presiding in the courts of judicature. By these means every citizen might aspire to the chief posts in the govern- ment ; but no one could arrive at them, till he had passed through all these several classes, and made himself capable of them by all these exercises. The classes were open to all ; but generally such only as were rich enough to main- tain their children without working, sent them thither. Cyrus himself was educated in this manner, and surpassed all of his age, not only in aptness to learn, but in courage and address in executing whatever he undertook.* JOURNEY OF CYRUS TO HIS GRANDRATHER ASTYAGES, AND HIS RETURN INTO PERSIA. When Cyrus was twelve years old, his mother Mandana took him with her into Media, to his grandfather Astyages, who from the many things he had heard in favour of the young prince, had a great desire to see him. In this court young Cyrus found very different manners from those of his own country. Pride, luxury, and magnificence, reigned here universally. Astyages himself was richly clothed, had his eyes coloured,t his face painted, and his hair em- bellished with artificial locks. For the Modes affected an effeminate life ; to be dressed in scarlet, and to wear necklaces and bracelets; whereas the ha- bits of the Persians were very plain and coarse. All this finery had no effect upon Cyrus, who, without criticising or condemning what he saw, was content to live as he had been brought up, and adhered to the principles he had im- bibed from his infancy. He charmed his grandfather with his spriteliness and wit, and gained the favour of all by his noble and engaging behaviour. I shall only mention one instance, whereby we may judge of the rest. Astyages, to make his grandson unwilling to return home, made a sumptu- (yjs entertainment, in which there was a vast plenty and profusion of every thing that was nice and delicate. Cyrus looked upon all this exquisite cheei md magnificent preparation, with great indifference, and observing that it ex- cited the surprise of Astyages, " The Persians," says he to the king, " instead of going such a round-about way to appease their hunger, have a much shorter * Cyrop. 1. i. p. 8—22. j The ancients, in order to set off the beauty of the face, and to give more life to their complexion, used to fomrj their eye-brows into perfect arches, and to colour them with black. To give the greater lustre to llieir eyes, they made their eye-lashes of the same blackness. This artifice was much in use among the Hebrews. It is said of Jezebel, Depinxil oculos suos stibio," 2 Kings, ix. 30. This drug had an astrio- fcM quality which shrunk up the eye-lids, and made the eyes appear the larger, which at that lima wa« nckoned a beauty. — Plin. 1. xxxiii. c. 6. From hence comes that epithet, which Homer so often giiet t» kit f:ofuage with the same beautjr. t A. M..344T. Ar^i ^ Cyror 1. ii. 58— 61, and 1. lii. j>. 62— ^O- HISTORY or CYRUS, 315 narm should be done them if they staid in their houses; but that as many a*? virp'rp taken runnin;^ away should be treated as enemies. This made them all retire to their habitations, excepting a few that follovved the king. On the other hand they that were conducting the princesses to the mountains, fell into the ambush Chrysanthes liad laid for them, and were most of them taken prisoners. The queen, tlie king's son, his daughters, his eldest son's wife, and his treasures, all fell into the hands of the Persians. The king, hearing this melancholy news, and not knowing wliat w^ould be- come of him, rc'ired to a little eminence, where he was presently invested by the Persian army, and obliged to surrender. CyriTs ordered him, with all his family, to be brought to the midst of the army. At that veiy instant arrived Tigranes, the king's eldest son, who w^as just returned from a journey. At so moving a scene, he could not forbear weeping. Cyrus addressing himself to him, said, " Prince, you are come very seasonably to be present at the trial of 3'our lather." And immediately he assembled the captains of tlie Persians and Medes, and called in also the great men of Armenia. Nor did he so much as exclude the ladies from this assembly, who were there in their chariots, but gave them full liberty to hear and see all that passed. When all was ready, and Cyrus had commanded silence, he began with re- quiring of the king, that in all the questions he was going to propose to him, he would answer sincerely, because nothing could be more unworthy a person of his rank, than to use dissimulation or falsehood. The king promised he would. Then Cyrus asked him, but at different times, proposing each arti- cle separately, and in order, whether it was not true, that he had made wai upon Astyages, king of the Medes, his grandfather ; whether he had not been overcome in that war, and in consequence of his defeat had concluded a treaty with Astyages; whether by virtue of that treaty he was not obliged to pay a certain tribute, to furnish a certain number of troops, and not to keep any fortified place in his country ? It was impossible for the king to deny any of these facts, which w'ere all public and notorious. " For what reason, then,'* continued Cyrus, ''have you violated the treaty in every article ?" " For no other," replied the king, " than because I thought it a glorious thing to shake Dif the yoke, to live free, and to leave my children in the same condition." " It is really glorious," answered Cyrus, " to fight in defence of liberty ; but if any one, after he is reduced to servitude, should attempt to run away from his master, w^hat would you do with him?" " I must confess," says the king, " I would punish him." "And if you had given a government to one of your subjects, and he should be found to misbehave, would you continue him in his post." " No, certainly : I would put another in his place." " And il he had amassed great riches by his unjust practices?" " I w^ould strip him of them ?" *' But which is still worbC, if he had held intelligence with your enemies, how would you treat him?" " Though I should pass sentence upon myself," re- plied the king^" I must declare the truth : I would put him to death." At these words, Tigranes tore his tiara from his head, and rent his garments : the women burst out into lamentations and outcries, as if sentence had actually passed upon him. Cyrus having again commanded silence, Tigranes addressed himself tu the prince to this effect : "Great prince, can you think it consistent with your wis- dom, to put my father to death, even against your own interest ?" " How against my interest?" replied Cyrus. "Because he was never so capable of doing you service. " " How do you make that appear ? Do the faults we com- mit enhance our merit, and give us a new title to consideration and favour?" " They certainly do, provided they serve to make us wiser. For wisdom is of inestimable value : are either riches, courage, -or address, to be compared to it ? Now, it is evident, this single day's experience has infinitely improved my father's wisdom. He knows how dear the violation of his word has cost bin). He has proved and felt how much you are superior to him, in all res- r^.cts H« has not been abk to succeed in any of his designs ; but you have 316 HISTORY OF CYRUS. happily accomplished all yours ; and with such expedition and secrecy, iha!< he has found himself surrounded and taken, before he expected to be attacked and the very place of his retreat has served only to ensnare him.'* " But youi father," replied Cyrus, " has yet undergone no sufferings that can have taughf him wisdom." " The fear of evils," answered Tigranes, " when it is so well founded as this is, has a much sharper sting, and is more capable of piercing the soul, than the evil itself. Besides, permit me to say, that gratitude k a stronger and more prevailing motive than any whatever : and there can be no obligations in the world of a higher nature, than those you will lay upon my father. His fortune, liberty, sceptre, life, wives, and children, all, restored to him with such a generosity : where can you find, illustrious prince, in one sin-^ ^le person, so many strong and powerful ties to attach him to your service ?" Well, then," replied Cyrus, turning to the king, " if I should yield tc youi son's entreaties, with what number of men, and what sum of money, will you assist us in the war against the Babylonians?" "My troops and treasures," says the Armenian king, " are no longer mine ; they are entirely yours : 1 can raise forty thousand foot and eight thousand horse ; and as to money, I reckon, including the treasure which my father left me, there are about three thousand talents ready money. All these are wholly at your disposal." Cyrus ac- cepted half the number of the troops, and left the king the other half, for the defence of the country against the Chaldeans,* with whom he was at war. The annual tribute which was due to the Medes, he doubled, and instead of fifty talents exacted a hundred, and borrowed the like sum over and above in his own name. "But what would you give me," added Cyrus, " for the ran- som of your wives ?" " All that I have in the world," replied the king "And for the ransom of your children?" "The same thing." "From this time, then, you are indebted to me tlie double of all your possessions." " And you, Tigranes, at what price would you redeem the liberty of your lady ?" Now he had but lately married her, and was passionately fond of her. " At the price," says he, "of a thousand lives, if 1 had them." Cyrus then con- ducted them all to his tent, and entertained them at supper. It is easy to ima- gine what transports of joy there must have been upon this occasion. After supper, as they were discoursing upon various subjects, Cyrus asked Tigranes, what was become of a governor he had often seen hunting with him, and for whom he had a particular esteem. " Alas !" says Tigranes, " he is no more ; and I dare not tell you by what accident I lost him." Cyrus pressing him to tell him, " My father," continued Tigranes, " seeing I had a very tender affection for this governor, and that 1 was extremely attached to him, suspected it might be of some ill consequence, and put him to death. But he was so honest a man, that as he was ready to expire, he sent for me, and spoke to me in these words : " Tigranes, let not my death occasion any disq^ection in you towards the king your father. What he has done to me did not proceed from malice, but only from prejudices, and a false notion wherewith he was unhap- pily blinded y — " O the excellent man cried Cyrus, " never forget the last iidvice he gave you." When the conversation was ended, C3^rus, before tbey parted, embraced Ihem all, as in token of a perfect reconciliation. This done, they got into their chariots, with their wives, and went home full of gratitude and admi- ration. Nothing but Cyrus was mentioned the whole way ; some extolling bis wisdom, others his valour; some admiring the sweetness* of his temper, others praising the beauty of his person, and the majesty of his mien. "And jrou," says Tigranes, addressing himself to his lady, " what do you think of Cyrus's aspect and deportment ?" — " I do not know," replied the lady, " I did not observe him." — " Upon what object, then, did you fix your eyes ?" — " Upon him that said he would give a thousand lives to ransom my lilierty." • Xenophon never calls the peopL of Babylonia Chaldeans. But Herodotus,!, vii. c. 63, and Strab*, k ktI. p. 7S9, ttjrle th«m so. TnIS) Chaldeans meant in this place were a people adjsinins^ to Armenia, The next day, the king of Armenia sent presents to Cyru % and refreshinenti fo^ his whole army, and brought him double the sum of money he was required to furnish. But Cyrus took only what had been stipulated, and restored him the rest. The Armenian troops were ordered to be ready in three days time, and Tigranes desired to command them. 1 have thought proper, for several reasons, to give so circumstantial an ac* count of this affair ; though I have so far abridged it, that it is not above a v|uarter of what we find in Xenophon. In the first place, it may serve to give the reader an idea of the style of tha excellent historian, and excite his curiosity to consult the original, v/hose ns- tui'al and unaffected beauties are sufficient to justify the singular esteem, whi-ck persons of good taste have ever had for the noble simplicity of that author To mention but one instance : what an idea of chastity and modesty, and at the same time, what a wonderful simplicity and delicacy of thought, are there, in the answer of Tigranes's wife, who has no eyes but for her husband 1 In the second place, those short, close, and pressing interrogations, each of which demanded a direct, precise answer from the king of Armenia, discover the disciple and scholar of Socrates, and show in what manner he retained the taste of his mrster. Besides, this relation will give us some idea of the judgment that ought tc be formed of Xenophon's Cyropedia ; the substance of which is true, though it is embellished with several circumstances, added by the author, and intro duced expressly to grace his instructive lessons, and the excellent rules he lays down upon government. This much, therefore, in the event we are treating of, is real. The king of Armenia having refused to pay the Medes the tribute he owed them, Cyrus attacked him suddenly, and before he suspected any designs were formed against him, made himself master of the only fortress he had, and took his family prisoners ; obliged him to pay the usual tribute, and to furnish his quota of troops ; and, after all, so won upon him by his humanity and courteous behaviour, that he rendered him one of the most faithful and affectionate allies the Medes ever had. The rest is inserted only by way of embellishment, and i? rather to be ascribed to the historian than tu the history. I should never myself have found out what the story of the governor's being put to death by the father of Tigranes signified, though I was very sensible it was a kind of enigma, and figurative of something else. *A person of quality, one of the greatest wits and finest speakers of the last age, who was perfectly well acquainted with the Greek authors, explained it to me many years ago, which 1 have not forgotten, and which I take to be the true meaning of that enigma. He supposed Xenophon intended it as a picture of the death of his master Socrates, of whom the state of Athens became jealous on account of the extraordinary attachment all the youth of the city bad to him ; which at last gave occasion to that philosopher's condemnation and death, which he suf- fered without murmur or complaint. [.1 the last place, I thought it proper not to miss this opportunity of mani^ Jesting such qualities in my hero, as are not always to be met in persons of his rank ; such as. oy rendering them infinitelv more valuable than all their military virtues, would mosi coniriDuce x .r:^ success of their designs. Tp most conquerors we fina courasre. resolution. :iicreDiaiiv. a capacity for martia« exploits, and all such taicms as'anaKe a noise in cne worid, and are apt to dazzle people by their glaring uutsiae : dui an mwara stock of sroodness, compassion and gentleness towards the unhappy, an air of moderation and reserve, evei» m prosperity and victory, an insinuating and persuasive behaviour, the art of gaining people's hearts, and attaching them to him more by affection than in- terest ; a constant and unalterable care always to huve right on his side, and to imprint such a character of justice and equity upon all his conduct, as his Kcry enemies are forced to revere ; and, lastly, such a clemency, as to dis- ♦ M. Ic Couitp tie Trcsvilles. HISTORY or CYRL'S. tingiiish those that offend through imprudence rather than malice, and o leav« room for their repentance ^ by giving them opportunity to return to their duty, these are qualities rarely found in the mo?t celebrated conquerors of antiquity, but shone out most conspicuously in Cyrus. To return to my subject. Cyrus, before he quitted the king of Armc:::a, was willing to do him some signal service This king was then at war with the Chaldeans, a neighbouring warlike people, who continually harassed his country by their inroads, and by that means hindered a great part of his lands from being cultivated. Cyrus, after having exactly Miformed himself ol tneir character, strength, ^nd the situation of their strong-holds, marched against them. On the first intelligence of his approach, the Chaldeans possessed themselves of the eminences to w^hich they were accustomed to retreat. Cyrut left them no time to assemble all their forces there, but marched to attack them directly. The Armenians, whom he had made his advanced guard, were immediately put to flight. C^^rus expected no other from them, and had only placed them there, to bring th^ enemy the sooner to an engagement. And, indeed, when the Chaldeans came to blows with the Persians, they were not able to stand their ground, but were entirely defeated. A great number were taken prisoners, and the rest were scattered and dispersed. Cyrus himself spoke to the prisoners, assuring them he was not come to inju-re them, or ravage their country, but to grant them peace upon reasonable terms, and to set them at liberty. Deputies were immediately sent to him, and a peace w^as con- cluded. For the better security of both nations, and with their common con- sent, Cyrus^aused a fortress to be built upon an eminence, which commanded the whole country ; and left a good garrison in it, w^hich was to declare against either of the two nations that should violate the treaty.'^' Cyrus, understanding that there was frequent intercourse and communicat. n between the Indians and Chaldeans, desired that the latter would send pers^jna to accompany and conduct his ambassador, whom he was preparing to send to the king of India. The purport of this embassy w^as, to desire some succours in money from that prince, in behalf of Cyrus, who wanted it for the levying of troops in Persia, and promised that, if the gods crowned his designs with success, that potentate should have no reason to repent of having assisted him. He was glad to find the Chaldeans ready to second his request, which they could do the more advantageously, by enlarging upon the character and ex- ploits of Cyrus. The ambassador set out the next day, accompanied with some of the most considerable persons of Chaldea, who w^ere directed by their master to act w^ith the greatest dexterity, and to do all possible justice to the merit of Cj^rus. The expedition against the Armenians being happily ended, Cyrus left that country, to rejoin Cyaxares. Four thousand Chaldeans, the bravest of the nation, attended him ; and the king of Armenia, who was now delivereO from his enemies, Augmented the number of troops he had promised him : so that he arrived in Media with a great deal of money, and a much more numerous arisny than he had when he left it. SECTION IV — THE. EXPEDITION OF CYAXARES AND CYRUS AGAINST THE BABYLONIANS. THE FIRST BATTLE, Both parties had been employed during three years in forming their alii ances, arid making preparations for war.t Cyrus, finding their troops full of ardour, and ready for action, proposed to Cyaxares fo lead them against Assyria* His reasons for it were, that he thought it his duty to relieve him, as soon as possible, from the care and expense of maintaining two armies ; that it «vaj better they should eat up the enemy's countiy , than Media : that so bold a step as that of going to meet the Assyrians, might be capable of spreading a terror among the enemy, and at the same time inspire their own army with thegieai- • Cyrep I iii. p. 7'V~7€. t A. M 3448. Ant. J. C. fyr.e Cymp. 1. ili y. 7n~-fi7. er confidence ; that, lastly, it was a maxim with him, as it had always been ;\':th Cambyses his father, that victory did not so much depend upon the num- oer, as the valour of troops. Cj^axares agreed to his proposal. As soon, therefore, as the customary sacrifices were offered, they began their march. Cyrus, in the name of the whole army, invoked the tutelary gods of ihe empire, beseeching them to be favourable to them in the expedition they had undertaken,, to accompany them, conduct them, fight for them, inspire them with such a measure of courage and prudence as w^as necessary, and, in short, to bless their arms^'with prosperity and success. In acting thus, Cjyuh put in practice that excellent advice his father had given him, of beginning; aiid ending all his actions, and all his enterprises, wdth prayer ; and indeed he never foiled, either before or after an engagement, to acquit himself, in the presence of tlie whole army, of this religious duty. When they were arrived on the frontiers of Assyria, it was still their first care to pay their homage to the gods of the country, and to implore their protection and succour ; after which they began to make incursions into the country, and carried off a great deal of spoil. Cyrus, understanding that the enemy's army was about ten days journey from them, prevailed upon Cyaxares to advance and march up to them. When the armies came within sight, both sides prepared for battle. The Assyrians were encamped in the open country, and according to their custom, w^hich the Romans iiiiitated afterwards, had encompassed and fortified their camp with a large ditch. Cyrus, on the contrary, who wished to deprive the enemy, as much as possible, of the sight and knowledge of the sraallness of his army, covered * his troops with several little hills and villages. For several days nothing was done on either side, but looking at and observing one another. At length a nu- merous body of the Assyrians moving first out of their camp, Cyrus advanced with his troops to meet them. But before they came within reach of the enemy, lie gave the word for rallying the men, which wdLS^ Jupiter, protector and am- ductor.'^ He then .caused the ordinary hymn to be sounded, in honour of Castor and Pollux, to w^hich the soldiers, full of religious ardour, (.^f:crf^wj,) answered with a loud voice. There was nothing in Cyrus's army but cheerfulness, emulation, courage, mutual exhortations to braveir, and a universal zeal to execute whatever their leader should command. ' For it is observable," says the historian, ''in this place, that on these occasions, those who fear the Deity rnosrare the least afraid of men." On the side of the Assyrians, the troops, armed with bows, slings, and darts, made their discharges, before their enemies vv^ere within reach. But the Persians, animated by the presence and example of Cyrus, came immediately to close fight with the enemy, and broke through their first battalions. The Assyrians, notwithstanding all the efforts used by Crcesus, and their own king, to encourage them, were .not able to sustain so ijnpetuous a shock, but immediately fled. At the same time the cavalry of the Medes advanced to attack the enemy's horse, w^hich was likewise presently routed. The fprmer warmly pursued them to the very camp, made a terrible slaughter, and Neriglissor, the king of the Babylonians, was killed in the ac- tion. Cyrus, not thinking himself in a condition to force their btrenchmentSj sounded a retreat. The Assyrians, in the mean time, having lost their king, and the flower of their army, were in a dreadful consternation.f As soon as Crcesus found them in so geat disorder, he fled, and left them to shift for themselves. The other allies likewise, seeing their affairs in so hopeless a condition, thought of no- thing but taking advantage of the night to make their escape.^ Cyrus, who had foreseen this, prepared to pursue them ( iosely. But this could not be effected wdthout cavalry; and^as we have already observed, the Persians had none. He therefore went to Cyaxares, and acquainted him with * I do not kn«w whether Xenophon, in this p!ftc<*, does not call the Persiun gods by the namet el tht grodi •*( own country. f C/rop. I iv p. 87, 104. ^ Cyr»p. 1. vi. p. IJiSTOitV OF CYitrJ^. his design. Cyaxares was extremely averse to it, and represented to him lio*t danj^erous it was to drive so, powerful an enemy to extremities, whom despair would probably inspire with courage ; that it was a part of wisdom to usn e:ood fortune with moderation, and not to lose the fruits of victory by too much eagerness ; moreover, that he did not wish to compel the Medes, or to refuse them .hat repose to which their behaviour had justly entitled them. Cyius, upon this, desired his permission only to take as many of the horse as weie willing to follow him. Cyaxares readily consented to this, and thought of nothing else now, but of passing his iijxie with his officers in feasting and mil ih, and enjoying the fruits of the victory he had just obtained. Cyrus marched away in pursuit of the enemy, and was followed by tlie greatest part of the Median soldiers. Upon the way he met some couriers that were coming to him from the Hyrcanians,* who served in the enemy s army, to assure him, that as soon as he appeared, those Hyrcanians would come over to him ; which in eflfect they did. Cyrus made the best use of his time ; and, having marched all night, came up with the Assyrians. Crccsus had sent away his wives in the night-time, for coolness, for it was the summer season, and followed them himself with a body of cavalry. When the Assyrians saw the enemy so near them, they were in the utmost confusion and consternation. Many of those that ran away, being warmly pursued, were killed ; all that staid in the camp surrendered ; the victory was complete, and the spoil immense. Cyrus reserved all the horses they took in the camp foi himself, resolving now to form a body of cavalry for the Persian army, which hitherto had none. The richest and most valuable part of the booty he set apart for Cyaxares ; and for the prisoners, he gave them all their liberty to go home to their own country, without imposing any other condition upon them, than that they and theirxountrymen should deliver up their arms, and engage no more in war ; Cyrus taking it upon himself to defend them against their enemies, and to put them in a condition for cultivating their lands with entire security. While the Medes and the Hyrcanians were still pursuing the remainder of the-enemy, Cyrus took care to have a repast, and even baths prepared for them, that, at their return, they might have nothing to do but to sit down and refresh themselves. He likewise thought fit to defer the distribution of the spoil till then. It was on this occasion this general, whose thoughts nothing escaped, exhorted his Persian soldiers to distinguish themselves by their generosity, in regard to their allies, from whom they had already received great services, and of whom they might expect still greater. He desired they would wait their return, both for the refreshments, and the division of the spoil ; and tL>at they would show a preference of their interests and conveniencies before their own ; giving them to understand, that this would be a sure means of attaching the allies to them for ever, and of securing a new harvest of victories to them over the enemy, which would procure them all the advantages they could wish, and make them an ample compensation for the voluntary losses they might sustain, for the sake of winning the affection of the allies. They all ac ceded to his opinion. When the Medes and Hyrcanians were returned from pursuing the enemy, Cyrus made them sit down to the repast he had prepared for them, desiring them to send nothing but bread to the Persians, who were sufficiently provided, he said, with all they wanted, either for their ragouts, or their drinking. Hunger was their only ragout, and water from the rivei their only drink ; for that was the way of living to which they had been ac- customed from their infancy. The next morning came on the division of the spoils. Cyrus, in the first place, ordered the magi to be called, and commanded them to choose out oi * These are not the Hyrcarlans by the Caspian sea. From observing the encampments of Cyrus ia Babylonia, one would be apt tv "^onjecliire, that the Hyrcanians here meant were about four or five iarf ioirrsey south of" Babybn. HISTORY or CVRUB. 321 the booty which was most proper to be offered to the ^ods on such an occa- sion. Then he gave the Medes and Hyrcanians tlie honour of dividirig all rhat remained among the whole army. They earnestly desired that the Per - sians might preside in the distribution, but the Persians absohitely refused ; so that they were obhged to accept of the office, as Cyrus had ordered ; arid the distrib ition was made to the general satisfaction of all parties. The veiy night that Cyrus marched to pursue the enemy, Cyaxares liad passed in feasting and jollity, and had made himself drunk with his principal officers. The next morning, w^hen he awaked, he was strangely surprised to find himself almost alone, and without troops. Immediately, full of reser-t- nient and rage, he despatched an express to the army, with orders to reproach Cyrus severely, and to bring back the Medes without any dela}'. This un- reasonable proceeding did not dismay Cyrus, who, in return, wrote him a re- spec ful letter, in which, however, he expressed himse. with a generous and noble freedom, justified his own conduct, and pui him in mind of the permis- sion he had given him of taking as many Medes with him as were willing to follow him. At the same time Cyrus sent mto Persia, for a reniforcement of his troops, designing to push his conquests still farther.* Among the prisoners of war they had taken, there was a young princess, of most exquisite beauty, whom they leserved for Cyrus. Her name was Pan- ?hea, the wife of Abradates, king of Susiana. Upon the report m.ade to Cy- rus of her extraordinary beauty, he refused to see her ; for fear, as he said, such an object might engage his affection more than he desired, and divert him from the prosecution of the great designs he had in view.t This singular moderation in Cyrus was undoubtedly an effect of the excellent education he had received : for it was a principle among the Persians, never to speak be- fore young people of any thing that tended or related to love, lest their natu- ral inclination to pleasure, which is so strong and violent at that age of levity and indiscretion, should be awakened and excited by such discourses, and should hurry them into follies and debaucheries. Araspes, a young nobleman of Media, who had the lady in his custody, had not the same distrust of his own weakness, but pretenaed that a man may be always master of himself. Cyrus committed the princess to his care, and at the same time gave him a very prudent admonition : " I have seen a great many persons," says he, " who have thought themselves very strong, wretchedly overcome by that violer.t passion, in spite of all their resolution, who have afterwards owned, uith shame and grief, that their passion was a bondage and slavery, from which they had not the power to redeem themselves; an incurable distemper, out of the reach of all remedies and human efforts ; a kind of bond or necessity, more difficult to force than the strongest chains or iron. "J " Fear nothing," ie plied Araspes, " I am sure of ^ayself, and I will answer with my life, I shall do nothing contrary to my duty." Nevertheless, his passion for this young princess increased, and by degrees grew to such a height, that finding her in-, vincibly averse to his desires, he was upon the point of using violence with her. The princess at length made Cyrus acquainted with his conduct, v.ho imme- diately sent Artabazus to Araspes, with orders to admonish and reprove .him in his name. This officer executed his orders in the harshest manner, upbraid ing him with his fault in the most bitter terms, and with such a rigorous severity, as was enough to throw him into despair. Araspes, struck to the soul with grief and anguish, burst into a flood of tears ; and being overwhelmed with shame and fear, thinking himself undone, had not a word to say for himselt'. Some days afterwards, Cyrus sent for him. He went to the prince, fearful and trembling. Cyrus took him aside, and instead of reproaching him with seventy as he expected, spoke gently to him ; acknowledging, that he himself wa^ :o blame for having imprudently exposed him- to so formidable an enenij. i.>y ♦ Cyrop. 1. ir. p. 104—108. t Cyrop. 1. v. p. 114, 117. et 1. vi. p. 153, 1%. Vol. I fllBTOIlY OF CYrwUft. such an unexpected kindness, the young nobleman recovered both life and speech. But his confusion, joy, and gratitude, expressed themselves first in a torrent of tears. " Alas!" sa^^s he. *' now I am come to the knowledge of myself, and find most plainly, that I nave two souls ; one that inclines me to good, another that excites me to evil. The former prevails, when yon speak to me, and comt to my relief: when I an alone, and left to m3^self, I give way to, and am overpowered by the lattir." Araspes made advantageous amends for his fault, and rendered Cyrus considerable service, by retiring a- m.ong the Assyrians, under the pretence of discontent, and by giving intelligence of tlieir measures and designs.* The loss of so brave an officer, who, through discontent, was supposed to have gone over to the enemy, greatly affected the whole army. Panthea,who had occasioned it, promised Cyrus to supply his place with an officer of equal merit, meaning her husband Abradates. Accordingly, upon her writing to him he repaired to the camp of the Persians, and was directh' carried to Pa> thea's tent, who told him, with a flood of tears, how kindly and handsomely she had been treated by the generous conqueror. "And how," cried out Abradates, "shall I be able to acknowledge so important a service ?" " By behaving towards him," replied Panthea, " as he hath done towards me. Whereupon he waited immediately upon Cyrus, and paying his respects to so great a benefactor, "you see before you," said he " the tenderest friend, the most devoted servant, and the most faithful ally, you ever had ; who, not being able otherwise to acknow^ledge your favours, comes and devotes himself en- tirely to your service." Cyrus received him whh such a* noble and generous air, accompanied with so much tenderness and humanity, as fully convinced him, that whatever Panthea had said of the wonderful character of that great prince, w^as greatly short of the truth.t Two Assyrian noblemen, likewise, who designed, as Cyrus was informed, to put themselves under his protection, rendered him extraordinary service. The one was called Gobryas, an old man, venerable both on account of his age and his virtue. The late king of Assyria, who was well acquainted w ith his merit, and had a very particular regard for him, had resolved to give his daughter in marriage to his son, and for that reason had sent for him to court. Thiii young nobleman, at a match of hunting, to which he had been invited, hap- pened to pierce a wild beast with his dart, which the king's son had missed. The latter, who was of a passionate and savage temper, immediately struck the gentleman with his lance, through rage and vexation, and laid him dead upon the spot. Gobryas besought Cyrus to avenge so unfortunate a father, and to take his family under his protection ; and the rather because he had no chil- dren left now but an only daughter, who had long been designed for a wife to the young king, but could not bear the thought of marrying the murderer of lier brother.^ This young king was called Laborosoaicbod ; he reigned only nine months, and was succeeded by Nabonid, called also Labynit and Bal- thasar, who reigned seventeen years. § The other Assyrian nobleman was called Gadates. He was prince of a nu- m.erous and powerful people. The king then reigning had treated him in a very cruel manner, after he came to the throne, because one of his co.ncubines had mentioned him as a handsome man, and spoken advantageously of the happiness of that worn an whom he should choose for a wife.H I'he expectation of this double succour was a strong inducement to Cjtus, snd made him determined to penetrate into the heart of the enemy's country As Bab>;lori, the capital city of the empire he designed to conquer, was the chief object of his expedition, he turned his views and his march that way, not intending to attack that city immediately in form, but. only to take a view of it, and make himself acquainted with it ; to draw ofif as many allies as he ♦ Cyrrop i. p. 34. j Cyrop. 1. vi. p. 155^ 166. t Cyrop. 1. ir p. Ill, IIS } A M. 3449. Ai6t J. C. 655. (j Cyrop. 1. v. p. 123, 124- RI«TC)UV OK CYRUS. ^93 could from that prince's party, and to make previous dispositions nnd pre parations for the siege he meditated. He set out, therefore, with his troops, and first marched to the territories of Gobryas. The fortress he lived in seemed to be an impregnable place, so advantageously was it situated, and so strongly fortified on all sides. This prince came out to meet him, and ordered re- »reshments to be brought for his whole army. He then conducted Cyrus to his palace, and there laid an infinite number of silver and gold cups, and other vessels, at his feet, together with a multitude of purses, full of the golden coin of the countiy ; then sending for his daughter, who was of a majestic shape and exquisite beauty, which the mourning habit she wore for her brother's death seemed greatly' to enhance, he presented her to Cyrus, desiring him to take her under his protection, and to accept those marks of his acknowledgment, which he took the liberty to offer him. " I willingly accept your gold and silver," says Cyrus, " and I make a present of it to your daughter, to augment her portion. Doubt not, but among the nobles of m;^ court, you will find a match suitable for her. It will neither be their own riches nor yours, which they will set their esteem upon. I can assure you, there are many among them, who would make no account of all the treasures of Babylon, if they were un- attended with merit and virtue. It is their only gloiy, I dare a/Tirm it of them, as it is mine, to approve themselves faithful to their friends, formidable to their enemies, and respectful to the gods." Gobryas pressed him to take a repast with him in his house, but he steadfastly refused, and returned into his camp with Gobryas, who staid and eat with him and his officers. The ground, and the green turf that was upon it, was the only bed or couch they had ; and it is to be supposed the whole entertainment corresponded. Go- bryas, who was a person ot good sense, was convinced how much that noble simplicity was superior to his vain magnificence ; and declared, that the Assy- rians had the art of distinguishing themselves by pride, and the Persians by ;nerit : and above all things he admired the ingenuous vein of humour, and the innocent cheerfulness, that reigned throughout the whole entertainment.* Cyrus, always intent upon his great design, proceeded with Gobryas towards he country of Gadates, which was beyond Babylon. In the neighbourhood of this, there was a strong citadel, which commanded the country of the Sacaet and the Cadusians, where a governor for the king of Babylon resided, to keep those people in awe. Cyrus made a feint of attacking the citadel. Gadates, whose intelligence with the Persians w^as as yet kept secret, by Cyrus's advice, offered himself to the Governor of it, to join with him in the defence of that important place. He was accordingly admitted with all his troops, and im mediately delivered it up to Cyrus. The possession of the citadel made him master of the Sacae and the Cadusians ; and as he treated those people with great kindness and lenity, they remained inviolably attached to his service. The Cadusians raised an army of twenty thousand foot, and four thousand horse ; and the Sacae furnished ten thousand foot, and tw^o thousand horse archers. The king of Assyria took the field, in order to punish Gadates for this rebellion ; but Cyrus engaged and defeated him, making a great slaughter of his troops, and obliging him to retreat to Babylon. After this exploit, the conqueror employed some^ time in ravaging the enemy's countiy. His kind treatment oi the prisoners of war, in giving to all of them liberty to retuni home to their habitations, had spread the fame of his clemency wherever he came. Numbers of people voluntarily surrendered to him, and very much augmented his army. Then, advancing near the city of Babylon, he sent the king of Assyria a per- sonal challenge, to terminate their quarrel by a single combat ; but his chal- lenge was not accepted. In order to secure the peace and tranquillity^ of his allies during his absence, he made a kind of truce, or treaty, with the king of Assyria, by which it was agreed on both sides, that the husbandmen should not be molested, but should have full liberty to cultivate their lands, and reap • Cyrop. 1. V. p. 119» 1=23. t Not the Sacae of Scfthia. 324 HISTORY OF CVRri?. the fruits of their labour. Therefore after having viewed the country, exa. mined the situation of Babylon, acquired considerable number of friends and uliies, and greatly augmented his cavaliy, he marched away on his return to Media* When he came to the frontiers, he sent a messenger to Cyaxares, to acquaint him with his arrival, and to receive his commands. Cyaxares did not think proper to admit so great an army into his countiy , an army that was about to receive a farther augmentation of forty thousand men, just arrived from Persia. He therefore set out the next day with what cavalry he had left, to join (-yrus, who likewise advanced to meet him with his cavalry, which were very fine and numerous. The sight of those troops rekindled the jealousy and dissatisfaction cf Cyaxares. He received his nephew in a very cold manner, turned away his face from him, to avoid the receiving of his salute, and even wept through vexation. Cyrus commanded all the company to retire, and entered into a con- versation with his uncle, for explaining himself with the more freedom. He spoke to him with so much moderation, submission, and reason ; gave him such strong proofs of his integrity, respect, and inviolable attachment to his person and interest, that in a moment he dispelled all his suspicions, and perfectly recovered his favour and good opinion. They embraced each other, and tears were shed on both sides. How great was the joy of the Persians and Medes who waited the event of this interview with anxiety and trembling, is not to be expressed. Cyaxares and Cyrus immediately remounted their horses, and then all the Medes ranged themselves in the train of Cyaxares, according to the sign given them by Cyrus. The Persians followed Cyrus, and the men of the other nations their particular prince. When they arrived at the camp, they conducted Cyaxares to the tent prepared for him. He was presently visited by almost all the Medes, who came to salute him, and to bring him presents ; some of their own accord, and others by the direction of Cyrus. Cyaxares was extremely touched at this proceeding, and began to find that Cyrus had not corrupted his subjects, and that the Medes had the same affection for birr, as be fore, t Such was the success of Cyrus's first expedition against Croesus and the Babylonians. In the council, held the next day, in the presence of Cyaxares and all the officers, it was resolved to continue the war.j Not finding in Xenophon any date that precisely fixes the years wherein the several events he relates happened, I suppose, with Usher, though Xenophon's relation does not seem to favour this conjecture, that between the two battles against Croesus and the Babylonians, several years passed, during which all necessary preparations were made on both sides, for cariying on the important war which was begun ; and within this interval I place the marriage of Cyrus. Cyrus, then, about this time, had thought of making a tour into his own country, about six or seven years after his departure, at the head of the Persian irmy. Cyaxares, on this occasion, gave him a signal testimony of the value he had for his merit. Having no male issue, and but one daughter, he offered her in marriage to Cyrus, with an assurance of the kingdom of Media for her portion.§ Cyrus had a grateful sense of this advantageous offer, and expressed the warmest acknowledgments of it ; but thought himself not at liberty to accept it, till he had the consent of his father and mother ; leaving therein a ^re example to all future ages, of the respectful submission and entire depeii- * Cyrop. 1. V. p. 124—140. t Cyrop. 1. v. p. 141—147. % Cyrop. 1. vi. p. 148—151. » Xenophon places this marriage after the taking of Babylon. But as Cyrus at that time was above nx-y years of age, and the princess not much less, and as it is improbable that either of them should wait Wil that age, before they thought of matrimony, I thought proper to give this fact a more early date. Be- tides, at any rate, Cambyses would have been but seven years old when he came to the throne, and but fourteen or fifteen when he died ; which cannot be reconciled with the expeditions he made into Epypt and Ethiopia, nor with the rest of his history. Perhaps Xenophon might date the taking of Babylon much earlier than we do ; but I follow the chronology of Archbishop Usher. I have also left out what is related in the Cyropoedia, 1. viii. p. 228, that from the time Cyrus was at the court of his grandfather Astyaren, |hc youBf priocets had said she would have no other hi sband than Cyr»*- Her father Cyaxares was tkiwr btA thfartj years old. dence, which all children ought to show to their parents on the like occasioiia^ whatever age they may be, or to whatever degree of power and greatness they may have arrived. Cyrus married this princess on his return from Persia.* When the marriage solemnity was over, Cyrus returned to his camp, and improved the time he had to spare, in securing his new conquests, and taking airproper measures with his allies, for accomplishing the great design he had tbrmed. Foreseeing, says Xenophon, that the preparations for war might take up a great deal of time, he pitched his camp in a convenient and healthy place, and fortified it veiy strongly. He there kept his troops to the same discipline and exercise as if the enemy had been always in sight.! They understood by deserters, and by the prisoners brought every day into the camp, that the king of Babylon was gone into Lydia, and had carried v>'itli him vast sums of gold and silver. The common soldiers immediately con- cluded, that it was fear which made him remove his treasures. But Cyrus judged he had undertaken this journey, only to raise up some new enemy against him ; and therefore laboured vrith indefatigable application in pre- paring for a second battle. Above all things he applied himself to strengthen his Persian cavalry, and ^o have a great number of chailots of war, built a^fter a new form, having found ^reat inconveniences in the old ones, the fashion of which came from Troy, and had continued in use till that time throughout all Asia. In this interval, ambassadors arrived from the king of India, with a large sum of money for Cyrus from the king their master, who had also ordered them ic assure him, that he was very glad he had acquainted him with what he w^anted ; that he was willing to be his friend and ally ; and, if he still wanted more mone}^ he had nothing to do but to let him know ; and that, in short, he had ordered his ambassadors to pay him the same absolute obedience as to himself. Cy- rus received these obliging offers with all possible dignity and gratitude. He treated the ambassadors with the utmost respect, and made them noble pre- sents ; and taking advantage of their good disposition, desired them to depute three of their own body to the enemy, as envoys from the king of India, on pretence of proposing an alliance w'ith the king of Assyria, but in effect to dis- cover his designs, and give Cyrus an account of them. The Indians undertook this employment with joy, and acquitted themselves in it with 2-reat ability. ;[ I do not recognise, in this last circumstance, the upright conduct and usual sincerity of Cyrus. Could he be ignorant, that it was an open violation of the law of nations to send spies to an enemy's court, under the title of a-mbas- sadors ; w^hich is a character that will not suffer those invested with it, to act so mean a part, or to be guilty of such treachery ? Cyrus prepared for the approaching battle, like a man who had nothing but great objects in view. He not only took care of eveiy thing that had been re- solved in council, but took pleasure in exciting a noble emulation among his officers, who should have the finest arms, be the best mounted, Ihrow^ a dart or shoot an arrow the most dexterously, or w^ho should undergo toil and fatigue with the greatest patience. This he brought about by taking them with hino in hunting, and by constantly rew^arding those that distinguished themselves most. Wherever he perceived that, the captains took particular care of their men, he praised them publicly, and showed them all possible favour. When he made them any feast, he never proposed any other diversions than militarj' exercises, and always gave considerable prizes to the conquerors, by which means he excited a universal ardour throughout his army. In a word, he was a general, who, in repose as well as action, nay, even in his pleasures, his meals, conversations, and walks, had his thoughts entirely bent on promoting the service. It is by such methods a man becomes an able and complete framor.§ • Cyrop. I. v'ii. p. Q^S^S^ f Cyrop 1. vi. p 51. J Cyrop. p. 156, 157. { Cyrop. 1. vi. 157 52G l i^^ . o\:\ or cvf^i f^ In the mean time, the Indian ambassadors, having returned ironri the eneir^y . camp, brought word, that Crcesus was chosen generalissimo ol' their ami} , that all the kings and princes in their alliance had agreed to furnish the nece>,. sary sums of money tor raising the troops ; that the Thracians had already engaged themselves ; that from Egyp! a great succour was marching, con- sisting of a hundred and twenty thousand men ; that another arm}^ was ex- pected from Cyprus j that the Cilicians, the people of the two Phrygias, the Lycaonians, Paphlagonians, Cappadocians, Arab>ans, af dl Phoenicians, were already arrived ; that the Assyrians were likewise com.e up with the king o( Babyion ; that the lonians, i^-lolians, aadl most of the Greeks living in Asia, had been obliged to join them ; that Croesus had likewise sent to the Lacede- monians, to bring them into a treaty of alliance ; that the army was assembled near the river Pactolus, from whence it w^as to advance to Thymbria, which wa? the place of rendezvous for all the troops. This relation was confirmed by the accounts brought in, both by the prisoners and the spies.* Cyrus's army was discouraged by this news. But that prince, having as- sembled his oilicers, and represented to them the infinite difference between the enemy's troops and theirs, soon dispelled their fears, and revived their courage.! Cyrus had taken proper measures for providing his army with all necessa- ries, and had given orders, as well for their march as for the battle he was preparing to fight ; in doing which, he descended to an astonishing detail, which Xenophon relates at length, and which reached from the chi^ef com- manders down to the very lowest subaltern officers ; for he knew very well, that upon such precautions the success of enterprises depends, which often miscarry through the neglect of the smallest circumstances : in the same man- ner, as it frequently happens, that the playing or movement of the greatest ma- chines is stopped through the disorder of a single wheel, however small. J This prince knew all the officers of his army by their names ; and making use of a common, bat significant comparison, he used to say, " He thought it strange that an artificer should know the names of all his tpols, and a general should be so indifferent, as not to know the names of all his captains, which are the instruments he must make use of in all his enterprises and operations." Besides, he was persuaded, that such an attention had something in it more honourable for the officers, more engaging, and more proper to excite them to do their duty, as it naturaUy leads them to believe they are both known and esteemed by their general. § When all the preparations were finished, Cyrus took leave of Cyaxares, who staid in Media, with a third p^irt of his troops, that the country might not be left entirely defence-less. 1| Cyrus, who. understood how advantageous it is always to make the enem^y's country the s^at of war, did not wait for the Babylonians coming to attack him m Media, but marched forward to meet them in their territories, that he might both consume their forage by his troops, and disconcert their measures by his expedition, and the boldness of his undertaking. After a very long march, be- came up with the enemy at Thym.bria, a city of Lydia, not far from Sardis, the capital of the country. They did not imagine this prince, with half the number of forces they had, could think of coming to attack them in their own country ; and they were strangely surprised to see him come, before they had time to lay up the provisions necessary for the subsistence of their nume rous army, or to assemble all the forces they intended to bring into the field against him. SECTIOi*^ V. THE BATTLE OF THYMBRIA, BETWEEN CYRUS AND CRCESUS This battle is one of the most considerable events in antiquity, since it de r,ided upon the empire of Asia between the Assyrians of Babylon and the Per* • Cjrop. p. 158. t Cyrop. 1. yi. p. 159. X Cyrop. p. 168—163. i Cri-op. 1. r. p. 131. 11?. H Cyrop. 1. ri. p 160» 161 i;i^TOKV {.MIL A. 327 iians. It was this consideration that induced M. Freret, one of my brethren in the Academy of Polite Literature, to examine it with particular care and exactness ; and the rather, as he observes, because it is the first pitched battle of which we have any full or particular account.* I have assumed the privi- I'egi of making use of the labours and learning of ot'.ier persons, but without robbing them of the glory, or denying myself the liberty of making such al- terations as I might judge necessary. 1 shall give a more ample and particular description of this battle than I usually do of such matters, because Cyrus being ooked upon as one of the greatest captains of antiquity, those of the profes- sion may be glad to trace him in all his steps through this important action ; moreover, the manner in which the ancients made war, and fought battles, is an essential part of their histor}^ In Cyrus's army, the companies of foot consisted of a hundred men each, exclusive of the captain. Each company was subdivided into four parts or platoons, which consisted of four-and- twenty men each, not including the person who commanded. These subdivisions were again divided into two files, con- sisting of twelve men each. Ever^^ ten companies had a particular superior officer to command them, corresponding with the present rank of colonel ; and ten of these bodies were under another superior commander, whom we may call a brigadier.! 1 have already observed, that Cyrus, when he first came at the head of the thirty thousand rersiaus, to the aid of his uncle Cyaxares, made a considerable change in the arms of his troops. Two-thirds of them, till then, only made use of javelins, or bov/s, and consequently could onty fight at a distance from the enemy. Instead of these, Cyrus armed the greatest part of them with cuiras*«*'S, bucklers, and swords, or battle-axes, and left few of his soldiers in light armour. J The Persians did not know at that time what it was to fight on horseback Cyrus, who was convinced that nothing was of so great importance towards the gaining: of a battle as cavalry, was sensible of the great disadvantage he la- boured under in that respect, and therefore took wise and early precautions to remedy that evil. He succeeded in his design, and by degrees formed a body of Persian cavalry, which amounted to ten thousand men, and were the best troops of his army.§ I shall speak elsewhere of the other change he introduced, with respect to the chariots of war. It is now time for us to give the number of the troops of both armies, which cannot be fixed but by conjecture, and by putting together several scattered passages of Xenophon ; that author having omitted the ma- terial circumstance of acquainting us precisely with their numbers, which ap- pears surprising in a man so expert in military affairs as that historian was. Cyrus's army amounted, in the whole, to one hundred and ninety-six thou- sand, men, horse and foot. Of these there were seventy thousand native Per- sians, viz. ten thousand cuirassiers of horse, twenty thousand cuirassiers of foot, twenty thousand pikemen, and twenty thousand light-armed soldiers. The rest of the army, to the number of one hundred and twenty-six thousand men, consisted of twenty-six thousand Median, Armenian, and Arabian horse, and one hundred thousand foot of the same nation. B(i!sides these troops, Cyrus had three hundred chariots of w^ar, armed with scythes, each chariot drawn by four horses abreast, covered with trappings that were shot-proof ; as were also the horses of the Persian cuirassiers.H He had likewise ordered a great number of chariots 'o be made of a lare^er size, on each of which was placed a tower, of about eighteen or twenty ^et high, in which were lodged twenty archers. Each chariot was drawn upon wheels by sixteen oxen yoked abreast. U * Vol. VI of the Memoirs of the Academy of Belles Lettres, p. 532. f Cyrop. 1. vi. p. 167. t Cyrop. 1. li. p. 39, 40 i Cyrop. 1. iv. p. W, 100 «t I. t. p. 131 y Cyrop. 1. yi p. 152, 153, 157. f Cyrop. p. 157. 328 Hir3'ro»lY OF CYKUS. There was, moreover, a considerable number of camels, upon each of vrhkh were two Arabian archers, back to back, so that one looked towards the head, and the other towards the tail of the camel.*" The army of Croesus was more than twice as numerous as that of Cyrus, amounting in all to four hundred and twenty thousand men, sixty thousand of which were cavalry. The troops consisted chiefly of Babylonians. Lydians, Phrygians, Cappadocians, of the nations about the Hellespont, and of Egyptians, lo the number of three hundred and sixty thousand men. The Egyptians alone made a bod^^ of one hundred and twenty thousand. They had bucklers (hat covered them from head to foot, very long pikes, and skort but very broad swords. The rest of the army was made up of Cyprians, Cilicians, Lycaoni ans, Paphlagonians, Thracians, and lonians.t Croesus had arranged his army in order of battle in one Jine, the infantry in the centre, and the cavalry on the two wings. All his troopp, both foot and horse, were thirty men deep ; but the Egyptians, who,ae we have noticed, were one hundred and twenty thousand in number, and who were the principal strength of his infantry, in the centre of which they were posted, were divided into twelve large bodies, or square battalions, of ten thousand men each, having one hundred men in the front, and as many in depth, with an interval or space between every battalion, that they might act and fight independent of, and without interfering with, one another. Croesus would gladly have persuaded them to range themselves in less depth, that they might make the wider front. The armies were in an extensive plain, which gave room for extending their wings to right and left ; and the design of Croesus, upon which alone he founded his hopes of victory, was to surround and hem in the enemy's army. But he coulvd not prevail upon the Egyptians to change the ordei of battle to which they had been accustomed. His army, being thus drawn out in one line, took up nearly forty stadia, or five miles in length.! Araspes, who, under the pretence of discontent, had retired to Croesur's army, and had particular orders from Cyrus to observe well the manner of that general's ranging his troops, returned to the Persian camp the day before the battle. Cyrus, in drawing up his army, governed himself by the disposi- tion of the enemy, of which that young Median nobleman had given him an exact account. The Persian troops had been generally used to engage four-and-twenty men in depth. But Cyrus thought fi^t to change that disposition. It was necessary to form as wide a front as possible, without too much weakening his phalanx, to prevent his army's being enclosed and hemmed in. His infantry was excel- lent, and most advantageously armed with cuirasses, partizans, Ijattle-axes, and swords ; and, provided they could join the enemy in close fight, there was little reason to believe that the Lydian phalanx, armed with only light buck- lers and javelins, could support the charge. Cyrus, therefore, thinned the files of his infantry one half, and ranged them only twelve men deep. The cavalry was drawn out on the two wings, the right commanded by Chrysan- tlips, and the left by Hystaspe«5. The whole front of the army occupied but thirty-two stadia, or four miles m extent ; and consequently was at each flank nearly four stadia, or half a mile, short of the enemy's front. § Behind the first line, at a little distance,. Cyrus placed the spear-men, and behind them the archers. Both the one and the other, were covered by the soldiers in their front, over whose heads they could throw their javelins, and shoot their arrows at the enemy. Behind all these he formed another line, to serve for the rear, which con- sisted of the flower of his army. Their duty was, to have their e^^es upon those that were placed before them, to encourage those that did their duty, tc sustain and threaten those that gave way, and even to kill as traitors those that • Cyrop. p. 153, 158. f Cyrop. p. 1S9 X Cyrop. p. le*?. j C'yrop. 1. vi. p; It7. HISTORY OF CYRL'rf. 329 fled ; by that means to keep the cowards in awe, and make them have as great d terror of the troops in the rear, as they could possibly have of the enemy. Behind the army were placed those moving towers which I have already described. These formed a line equal and parallel to that of the army, and served not only to annoy the enemy by the constant discharges of the archers that were in them, but also as a kind of moveable forts, or redoubts, under which the Persian troops might rally, in case they were broken and pushed by the enemy. Just behind these towers were two other lines, which also were parallel and equal to the front of the army ; the one was formed of the baggage, and the other of the chariots which carried the women, and such other persons as were unfit for service. To close all these lines, and to secure them from the insults of the enemy, Cyrus placed in the rear of all, two thousand infantry, two thousand horse and the troop of camels, which was pretty numerous.* Cyrus's design in forming two lines of the baggage, &c. was not only to make his army appear more numerous than it really was, but likewise to oblige the enemy, in case they were resolved to surround him, as he knew they in- tended, to make the longer circuit, and consequently to weaken their line by stretching it out so far. We have still the Persian chariots of war armed with scythes to speak of. These were divided into three bodies, of one hundred each. One of the bodies, commanded by Abradates, king of Susiana,! was placed in the front of the bat- tle, and the other two upon the two flanks of the army. Such was the order of battle in the two armies, as they were drawn out and stationed the day before the engagement. The next day, very early in the morning, Cyrus made a sacrifice, during which time his army took a little refreshment ; and the soldiers, after having offered their libations to the gods, put on their armour. Never was there a more beautiful and magnificent sight ; coat-armours, cuirasses, bucklers, hel- mets, one could not tell which to admire most ; men and horses all finely equipped, and glittering in b^^ss and scarlet. J When Abradates was jusi going to put on his cuirass, which was only of quilted linen, according to the fashion of his country, his wife Panthea came and presented him with a helmet, bracers, and bracelets, all of gold, with a coat-armour of his own length, plaited at the bottom, and with a purple-co- loured plume of feathers. She had got all this armour prepared without her husband's knowledge, that her present might be the more agreeable from sur- prise. In spite of all her endeavours to the contrary, when she dressed him in this armour, she shed some tears. But nol^vithstanding her tenderness for him, she exhorted him to die with sword in hand, rather than not signalize himself in a manner suitable to his birth, and the idea she had endeavoured to give Cyrus of his gallantry and worth. "Our obligations," says she, " to thLt prince are infinitely great. I was his prisoner, and as such was set apart for his pleasure ; but when I came into his hands, I was neither used like a captive, nor had any dishonourable conditions in.posed on me for my freedom. He treated me as if I had been his own brother's wife, and in return I assured him, you would -be capable of acknowledging suck extraordinary goodness." " O Jupiter!" cried Abradates, lifting up his eyes towards heaven, " grant that on this occasion I may approve myself a husband worthy of Panthea, and a friend worthy of so generous a benefactor." Having said this, he mounted his cha- riot. Panthe;\ not being able to embrace him any longer,' was ready to kiss the chariot he rr -de in ; and when she had pursued him with her eyes ai far as she possibly cov id, she retired. § As soon as Cyrus had finished his sacrifice, given his officers the necessary orders and instructions lor the battle, and put them in mind of pay 'ng the ho« • Cyrop. I. VI. p. iCa \ Or SuiV.an. t Cyrop. p. Id9. J Cvrop. p. K9, 170 .530 hlSTOKY OF CVKLS mage which is due to the gods, every man went to his post.*^ Some of his offi- cers brought him wine and victuals ; he eat a little without sitting down, and caused the rest to be distributed among those that were about him. He took a little wine likewise, and poured out a part of it as an offering to the gods before he drank ; B.v.d all the company follow^ed his example. After thi«j ht prayed again to the god of his fathers, desiring he would please to be hi? guide, and come to his assistance ; he then mounted his horse, and comm.anded them all to follow him.j As he was considering on which side he would direct his march, he heard a ) clap of thunder on the right, and cried out, " Sovereign Jupiter, v> e follow, thee. "J And that instant he set forwards, having Chiysanthes on his right, who commanded the right wing of the horse, and Arsamas on his left, who commanded the foot. He warned them above all things to take care of the royal standard, and to advance equally in a line. The standard was a golden eagle on the end of a pike, with its wings stretched out. The same was ever afterfused by the kings of Persia. He ordered his army to halt three times before they reached the enemy; and after having marched about twenty stadia, or two miles and a half, they came in view of them. When the two armies were within sight of each other, and the enemy had observed how much the front of theirs exceeded that of Cyrus, they made the centre of their army halt, while the tw^o wings advanced projecting to the right and left, with design to enclose Cyrus's army, and to begin their attack on every side at the same time. This movement did not at all alarm Cyrus, because he expected it. Having given the word for rallying the troops, *' Jupiter leader and protector," he left his right wing, promising to rejoin them imme diately, and help them to conquer, if it w^as the will of the gods. He rode through all the ranks, to give his orders, and to encourage the sol diers ; and he who, on all other occasions, w^as so modest, and so far from the least air of ostentation, was now full of a noble confidence, and spoke as if he was assured of victory ; " Follow me, comrades," said he ; " the victory is certainly ours ; thw gods are for us." He observed that many of his officers, and even Abradates himself, w^ere uneasy at the motion which the tvvo wings of the Lydianarmy made, in order to attack them on the two flanks : " These troops alarm you," says he ; " believe me, these are the very troops that w^ill be the first routed ; and to you, Abradates, I give that as a signal of the time when you are to fall upon the enemy with your chariots." The event hap- pened exactly as Cyrus had foretold. After Cyrus had given such orders as he thought necessary every where, he returned to the right wing of his army.§ When the two detached bodies of the Lydian troops were sufficiently ex- t'^nded, Crcesus gave the signal to the main body of his army, to march up directly to the front of the Persian army, while the two wings, that were wheel- ing round upon their flanks, advanced on each side : so that Cyrus's army was enclosed on three sides, as if it had three great armies to engage with ; and, as Xenophon says, looked like a small square drawn within a great one.|| ^ In an instant, on the first signal Cyrus gave, his troops faced about on every side, keeping a profound silence in expectation of the event. The prince now thought it time to sing the hymn of battle. The whole army answered to it with loud shouts, and invocations of the god of war. Then Cyrus, at the head of some troops of horse, briskly followed by a body of the foot, fell immedi- ately upon the enemy's forces that were marching to attack the right of his army in flank ; and having attacked them in flank, as they intended to do, put them in great disorder. The chariots then driving furiously upon the Ly • dians, completed their defeat. In the same moment the troops on the left flank, knowing, by the noise, thai Cyrus had begun the battle on the right, advanced to the enemy. And imme* * Cyrop. 1. vi. p. 170. t Cyrop. 1. vii. p 172. J He had really a God for his jnide, buf very different from Jupiter. ( iVrop. 1. vii p. 173—176. j} Cyrop. p. 173. rl.'KluKV OF CVPJ^a. 33f diately the squadron of camels was made to advance likewise, Cyms had ordered. The enemy's cavalry did not expect this ; and their horses at a dis- tance, as soon as they were sensible of the approach of those animals, for horses cannot endure the smell of camels, be^an to snort and prance, to run upon and overturn one another, throwing their riders, and treading them under their feet. While they were in this confusion, a small body of horse commanded by Artageses, pushed them veiy warmly, to prevent them from rallying: : and the chariots armed with scythes falling furiously upon them, they were entirely routed, with a dreadful slaughter. This being the signal w^hich Cyrus had given Abradates for attacking the front of the enemy's army, he drove like lightning upon them v/ith all his chariots. Their first ranks were not able to stand so violent a charge, but gave way, and were dispersed. Having broken and overthrown them, Abradates came up to the Egyptian battalions, who being covered with their bucklers, and marching in such close order, that the chariots had not room to pierce among tiiem, gave him much more trouble, and would not have been broken, had ii not been for the violence of the horses that trod upon them. It was a most dreadful spectacle to see the heaps of men and horses, overturned chariots, broken arms, and all the direful effects of the sharp scythes, which cut exery thing in pieces that came in their way. But Abradates's chariot having the misfortune to be overturned, he and his men we^e killed, after they had signa lized their valour in an extraordinary manner. The Egyptians then marching forward in close order, and covered with their bucklers, obliged the Persian infantry to give way, and drove them beyond their fourth line, as far as to their machines. There the Egyptians met with a fresh storm of arrows and javelins, that were poured upon their heads from the moving towers ; and the battalions of the Persian rear-guard advancing sword in hand, hindered their archers and spearmen from retreating any farther, and obliged them to return to th*^ charge.* Cyrus, in the mean time, having put both the horse and foot to flight, on the left of the Egyptians, did not amuse himself in pursuing the fugitives, but, pushing on directly to the centre, had the mortification to find his Persian troops had been forced to give way ; and, rightly judging that the only means to pre- vent the Egyptians from gaining farther ground, would be to attack them be- hind, he did so, and fell upon their rear ; the cavalry came up at the same lime, and the enemy was pushed with great fury. The Egyptians, being attacked on all sides, faced about every way, and defended themselves with wonderful bravery. Cyrus himself was in great danger ; his horse, which a soldier had stabbed in the belly, sinking under him, he fell in the midst of his enemies. Here was an opportunity, says Xenophon, of seeing how important it is for a commander to have the affection of his soldiers. Orficcrs and men, equally ilarmed at the danger in which they saw their leader, ran headlong into the diick forest of pikes, to rescue and save him. He quickly mounted another horse, and the battle became more bloody than e^v^er. At length Cyrus, ad- miring the valour of the Egyptians, and being concerned to see such brave men perish, offered them honourable conditions if they would surrender, letting them knov/ at the same time, that all their allies had abandoned them. The Egyptians accepted the conditions, and, as they were no less eminent in poini of fidelity than in courage, they stipulated, that they should not be obliged to cany arms against Croesus, in whose service they had been engaged. From thenceforward they served in the Persian army with inviolable fidelity. t Xenophon observes, that Cyrus gave them the cities of Larissa and Cyllene, r^ear Cuma, upon the sea-coast, as also other inland places, which were inha bited by their des_,endants even in his time ; and he adds, that these places were called the cities of the Egyptians. This observation of Xenophon, as also many others in several parts of his Cyropjfidia, in order to prove the truth Df Che things he advances, shows plainly, that he meant that work as a true I Cyrop. 1 '> ii. p. 178 332 lll^iTUKV or CVKl'S. history of Cyrus, at least with respect to the main substance of it, and iht greatest part of the facts and transactions. This judicious reflection on the pas- sage in Xenophon belongs to Mons. Freret.* The battle lasted till evening. Croesus retreated as fast as he could with his troops to Sardis. The other nations, in like manner, that very night directed their course each to their own country, and made as long marches as the}'' pos- sibly could. The conquerors, after they had eaten something, and posted the guards, w^ent to rest.j In describing this battle, I have endeavoured exactly to follow the Greek text of Xenophon, the Latin translation of which is not always faithful. Some mili- tary men, to whom I have communicated this description, find a defect in the manner in which Cyrus disposed of his troops in order of battle, as he placed no troops to cover his flanks, to sustain his armed chariots, and to oppose the two bodies of troops which Croesus'had detached to fall upon the flanks of his army. It is possible such a circumstance might es-cape Xenophon in describing this battle. It is allowed, that Cyrus's victory was chiefly owing to his Persian cavalry, which was a new establishment, and entirely the fruit of that prince's care and activity in forming his people, and perfecting ihem in a part of the military art, of which, till his time, they had been entirely ignorant. The chariots armed with scythes did good service, and the use of them was ever afterwards retained among the Persians. The camels, too, were not unserviceable in this battle, thougii Xenophon makes no great account of them ; and observes, that in his time they made no other use of them than for carrying the baggage.J I do not undertake to write a panegyric upon Cyrus, or to magnify his merit. It is sufficient to take notice, that in this affair we see all the qualities of a great general shine out in him. Before the battle, an admirable sagacity and foresight in discovering and disconcerting the enemy's measures : an infinite exactness in the detail cf affairs, in taking care that his army should be pro- vided with every thing necessary, and all his orders punctually executed at the times fixed; a wonderful application to gain the hearts of his soldiers, and to inspire them with confidence and ardour : in the heat of action, what a spirit and activity ; what a presence of mind in giving orders, as occasion requires ; what courage and intrepidity, at the same time what humanity towards the enemy, whose valour he respects, and whose blood he is unwilling to shed ! We shall see by and by, what use he made of his victory. But w^hat appears to me still more remarkable, and more worthy of admira- tion than all the rest, is the constant care he took on all occasions, to pay that homage and worship to the Deity w^hich he thought belonged to him. Doubt- less the reader has been surprised to see, in the relation I have given of this battle, how many times Cyrus, in sight of his army, makes mention of the gods, offers sacrifices and libations to them, addresses himself to them by prayer and invocation, and implores their succour and protection. But in this • I have added nothing to the original text of the historian, who was also a mili- tary person, and who thought it no dishonour to himself or his profession, to relate these particular circumstances. What a shame, then, and a reproach would it be to a Christian officer or general, if, on a day of battle, he should blush to appear as religious and devout as a pagan prince ; and if the Lord of hosts, the God of armies, w^hom he acknowledges as such, should make a less impression upon his mind, than a respect for the false deities of paganism did upon the mind of Cyrus ! As for Croesus he makes no great figure in this action ; not one word is said Df him in the whole engagement. But that profound silence which Xenophon observes in regard to him, seems, in my opinion, to imply a great deal, and ^ives us to understand that a man may be a powerful prince, or a rich poteH- tatc, without being a great warrior. • Cyrop. 1. vii. p 179. ^ Cyrop p 180. + Cyrop. p. ISO HiSrORV OF CVRI S. 333 But let us return to the camp of the Persians. It is easy to imagine, that Fanthea must have been in the utmost affliction and distress, when the news v-as brought to her of the death of Abradates. Having caused his body to be brought to her, and holding it upon her knees, quite out of her senses, witl) her eyes steadfastly fixed upon the melancholy object, she thought of nothing but feeding her grief, and indulging her misery, with the sight of that dismal and bloody spectacle. Cyrus being told what a condition she was in, ran im mediately to her, sympathized with her affliction, and bewailed her unnappy rate with tears of compassion, doing all that he possibly could to give hei comfort, and ordering extraordinary honours to be shown to the brave deceased Abradates. But no sooner was Cyrus retired, than Panlhea, overpowered with grief, stabbed herself with a dagger, and fell dead upoii the body of her hus- band. They were both buried in one common grave upon the very spot, and a nionument was erected for them, which was standing in the time of Xenophon.* SECTION VI. — THE TAKING OF SARDIS AND OF CRCESUS. The next day, in the morning, Cjrrus marched towards Sardis.t If we may believe Herodotus, Croesus did not imagine that Cyrus inten:^ed to shut him up in the city, and therefore marched out w^ith his forces to meet him and tc give him battle. According to that historian, the Lydians were the bravest and most warlike people of Asia. Their principal strength consisted in their cavalry. Cyrus, in order to render that the less serviceable to them., made his camels advance first, of which animals the horse could neither endure the sight nor the smell, and therefore immediately retired on their approach Upon which the riders dismounted, and came to the engagement on foot, which was very obstinately maintained on both sides ; but at length the Lydians gave way, and w^ere forced to retreat into the city; which Cyrus quickly besieged, causing his engines to be levelled against the walls, and his scaling ladders to be prepared, as if he intended to attack it by storm. But while he was amus- ing the besieged with these preparations, the night following he made himself master of the citadel by a private way that led thereto, which he was informed of by a Persian slave, who had been a servant to the governor of that place. At break of day he entered the city, where he met with no resistance. His first care was to preserve it from being plundered ; for he perceived the Chal- deans had quitted their ranks, and already began to disperse themselves. To stop the rapacious hands of foreign soldiers, and tie them as it were, by a single command, in a city abounding with riches as Sardis did, is a thing not to be done but by so singular an authority as Cyrus had over his army. He gave all the citizens to understand that their lives should be spared, and neither their wives nor children touched, provided they brought him all theii gold and silver. This condition they readily complied with ; and Croesus him- self, w^iom Cyrus had ordered to be conducted to him, set them an example, by delivering up all his riches and treasures to the conqueror. j When Cyrus had given all necessary orders concerning the city, he had a particular conversation with the king, of whom he asked, among other things, what lie now thought of the oracle of Delphos, and of the answers given by the god that presided there, for whom, it was said, he had always had a great regard ? Croesus first acknowledged, that he had justly incurred the indigna- tion of that god, for having shown a distrust of the truth of his answers, and /or having put him to the trial by an absurd and ridiculous question ; and then declared, that notwithstanding all this, he still had no reason to complain of him, for that having consulted him, to know what he should do in order to lead a happy life, the oracle had given him an answer, which implied in sub- stance, that ke should enjoy a perfect and lasting happiness, when he once came to the knowledge of himself. "For want of (his knowledge," continued he, ** and believing myself, through the excessive praises that were lavished ♦ Cyrcp. 1 vii. p. 184 — 186. ; Herod I. i. c. 79—84. I Cyrop. 1. viu p IfJO. rnsTORV of ckyls. upon me, to be S4)mething very different from what I am, 1 accepted the titIf 01 generalissimo of the whole aimy, and unadvisedly engaged in a war agains a prince, infinitely my superior in all respects. But now that I am instruct ed by my defeat, and begin to know myself, I believe I am about to com mence being happy ; and if you prove favourable to me, for my fate is ii your hands, I shall certainly be so." Cyrus, touched with compassion a' the misfortune of the king, who was fallen in a moment from so great an ele- vation, and admiring his equanimity under such a reverse of fortune, treated him with a great deal of clemency and kindness, suffering him to enjoy both the title and authority of king, under the restriction of not having the power lo make war; that is to say, he discharged him, as Crcesus acknowledged himself, from all the burdensome part of regal power, and truly enabled him lo lead a happy life, exempted from all care and disquiet. From thencefor- ward he took him with him in all his expeditions, either out of esteem for him, and to have the benefit of his counsel, or out of policy, and to be the more secure of his person.* Herodotus, and other writers after him, relate this story with the addition of some very remarkable circumstances, which I think it incumbent on me to mention, notwithstanding they seem to be much more wonderful tha*n true. I have already observed, that the only son Crcesus had living was dumb. This young prince, seeing a soldier, when the city was taken, ready to give the king, whom he did not know, a stroke upon the .head with his scimitar, made such a violent effort and struggle, out of fear and tenderness for the life of his father, that he broke the strings of his tongue, and cried out, " soldier, spare the life of Croesus."! Croesus being a prisoner, was condemned by the conqueror to be burnt alive. Accordingly, the funeral-pile was prepared, and that unhappy prince being laid thereon, and just upon the point of execution, recollecting the conver- sation he had formerly had with Solon,J was wofully convinced of the truth , of that philosopher's admonition, and in remembrance thereof, cried out aloud | three times, "Solon, Solon, Solon!" Cyrus, who, with the chief officers of i his court, was present at this spectacle, was curious to know why Croesus pro- j nounced that celebrated philosopher's name with so much vehemence in this ; extremity. Being told the reason, and reflecting upon the uncertain state of all sublunary things, he was touched with commiseration at the prince's mis- fortune, caused him to be taken from the pile, and treated him afterwards, as long as he lived, with honour and respect.§ Thus had Solon the gloiy, with ^ a single w^ord, to save the life of one king, and give a wholesome lesson of instruction to another.ll ^ Two answers in particular, given by the Delphic oracle, had induced Crce- sus to engage in the war which proved so fatal to him. The one was, that he, Crcesus, was to believe himself in danger, when the Medes should have a mule to reign over them ; the other, that when he shouM pass the river Halys, to make war against the Medes, he would destroy a mighty empire. From the first of these oracular answers he concluded, considering the impossibility of the thing spoken of, that he had nothing to fear ; and from the second, he conceived hopes of subverting the empire of the Medes. When he founc3 that things had happened quite contrary to his expectations, with Cyrus's leavt he despatched messengers to Delphos, in order to make a prevSent to the god in his name, of a golden chain, and at the same time to reproach him for ha- ving so basely deceived him by his oracles, notwithstanding all the vast pre sents and offerings he had made him. The god was at no great pains to jus- tify his answers. The mule which the oracle meant was Cyrus, who deriyed his extraction from two different nations, being a Persian by the father's side. ♦ Cyrop. 1. vii. p. 181—184. t Herod. 1. i. c. 85. I This conversation is already related in this rolume, p. 301, 302. $ Herod, c. 86 — 91. Plut. ui Solan iJ Kal 56^a» Jax^v 6 "ZSkuv ivl \6y03 t6v ^itv crcocraj, t6v dl TrandiOcaf twv BacXe'cwv. Plat. HISTORY Oi' CYKUS. 336 «k1 a Mede by the mothers ; and as to the great empire which Crcssus was k) overthrow, the oracle did not mean that of the Medes, but his own. It was by such false and deceitful oracles, that the father of lies, the devil, who was the author of them, imposed upon mankind in thoi?e tjmes of ignorance and darkness, always giving his answer to those that consulted him, in such ambiguous and doubtful terms, that, let the event be what it would, they con- tained a relative meaning. When the people of Ionia and iEolia were apprised of Cyrus's having sub- iued the Lydians, they sent ambassadors to him at Sardis, to desire he would receive them as his subjects, upon the same conditions he had granted the Ly- dians. Cyrus, who, before his victory, had solicited them in vain to embrace his party, and was then in a condition to compel them to it by force, answered them only by a fable of a fisherman, who having played upon his pipe, in order to make the fish come to him, in vain, found there was no way to calch them, but by throw^ing his net into the water. Failing in their hopes of suc- ceeding this way, they applied to the Lacedaemonians, and demanded their succour. The Lacedaemonians thereupon sent deputies to Cyrus, to let hin) know, that they would not suffer him to undertake any thing against the Greek*. Cyrus only laughed at such a message, and warned them in his turn to take care, and put themselves into a condition to defend their own territories.* The nations of the isles had nothing to apprehend from Cyrus, because had not yet subdued the Phoenicians, nor had the Persians any shipping. ARTICLE IL THE HISTORY OF THE BESIEGING AND TAKING OF BABYLON BY CYRUS. Cyrus staid in Asia Minor, till he had entirely reduced all the nations thai inhabited it into subjection, from the JEgean sea to the river Euphrates. From thence he proceeded to Syria and Arabia, which he also subdued. After whicn he entered into Assyria, and advanced towards Babylon, the only city of the East that stood out against him.t The siege of this important place was no easy enterprise. The walls of it were of a prodigious height, and appeared to be inaccessible, without mentioning the immense number of people within them for their defence. Besides, the city was stored with all sorts of provisions for twenty years. However, these difficulties did not discourage Cyrus from pursuing his design. But, despairing to take the place by storm or assault, he made the inhabitants believe he de- signed to reduce it hj famine. To which end he caused a line of circumval- lation to be drawn quite round the city, with a large and deep ditch ; and, that his troops might not be over-fatigued, he divided his army into twelve bodies, and assigned each of them its month for guarding the trenches. The besieger thinking themselves out of all danger, by reason of their ramparts and mag? zines, insulted Cyrus from the top of their walls, and laughed at all his attemp and all the trouble he gave himself, as so much unprofitable labour. SECTION I.— -PREDICTIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL CIRCUMSTANCES RELATING Ti THE SIEGE AND THE TAKING OF BABYLON, AS THEY ABE SET DOWN IN DIF* FERENT PLACES OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. As the taking of Babylon is one of the greatest events in ancient history, and as the principal circumstances with which it was attended, were foretold in the holy Scriptures many years before it happened, I think it not improper, before I give an account of what the profane writers say of it, briefly to put together what we find upon the same head in the sacred pages, that the reader may be the more capable of comparing the predictions and the accomplishment of them together. * Hefod. L i. c. 141, 152, 153. 336 HISTORY OF CYRotS. ? THE PREDICTION OF THE JEWISH CAPTIVITY AT BABYLON, aND THK TIKI OF ITS DURATION. God Almighty was pleased, not only to cause the captivity which his poo pie were to suffer at Babylon to be foretold a long time before it came to pass, but likewise to set down the exact number of years it was to last. The terra he fixed for it was seventy years, after which he promised he would delivei them, by bringing a remarkable and an eternal destruction upon the city d Babvlon, the place of their bondage and confinement. " And these nations ^hall serve the king of Babylon seventy years," Jer. xxv. 11. II. THE CAUSES OF GOD's WRATH AGAINST BABYLON. W HAT kindled the wrath of God aga*nst Babylon was, 1. Her insuppc /tabl? pride ; 2. Her inhuman cruelty towards the Jews ; and, 3. The sacrilegiouf impiety ot her king. 1. Her pride. She believed herself to be invincible. She says in her heart, I am the queen of nations, and I shall remain so for ever. There is no powef equal to mine. All other powers are either subject or tributary to me, or in alliance with me. I shall never know either barrenness or widowhood. Eter- nity is written in my destiny, according to the observation of all those that have consulted the stars to know it. 2. Her cruelty. It is God hinrself that complains of it. I was willing, says he, to punish my people in such a manner as a father chastiseth his children. I sent them for a time into banishment at Babylon, with a design to recall them as soon as they were become more thankful and more faithful. But Babylon and her prince have converted my paternal chastisement into such a cruel aiid inhuman treatment, as my clemency abhors. Their design has been to de- stroy : mine was to save. The banishment they have turned into a severe bondage and captivity, and have shown no compassion or regard either to age, or infirmity, or virtue. 3. The sacrilegious impiety of her king. To the pride and cruelty of his predecessors, Belshazzar added an impiety that was peculiar to himself. He did not only prefer his false divinities to the true and only God, but imagined himself likewise to have vanquished his power, because he was possessed ol the vessels which had belonged to his worship ; and, as if he meant to affront him, he affected to apply these holy vessels to profane uses. This was the provoking circumstance that brought down the wrath of God upon him. in. THE DECREE PRONOUNCED AGAINST BABYLON, PREDICTION OF THE CAI.AMI- TIES THAT WERE TO FALL UPON HER, AND OF HER UTTER DESTRUCTION. " Make bright the arrows, gather the shield-s it is the prophet that speaks to the Medes and Persians. " The Lord hath raised up the spirit of the kings of the Medes, for his device is against Babylon to destroy it, because it is the vengeance of the Lord, the vengeance of his temple."'^ " Howl ye, for the day of the Lord is at hand, a day cruel both with WrntL and fierce anger, to lay the land desolate.! — Behold, I will punish the king oi Babylon and his land, as I have punished the king of Assyria.'' J " Shout against her round about. Recompense her according to her w^ork , according to all that she hath done, do unto her; and spare ye not her young; men ; destroy ye utterly all her host.§ — Every one that is found shall be thrust through, and every one that is joined unto them shall fall by the sword. Their children also shall be dashed to pieces before their eyes, their houses shall be spoiled, and their wives ravished. Behold I will stir up the Medes against them, who shall not regard silver ; and as for gold, they shall not delight in it. 1 heir bows also shall dash the young men to pieces, and they shall nave no ♦ Jcr.li. 11. t lia. xiii, 6, 9. ; In the destniction of Nineveh. Jer. 1. li. 5 Jer. 1. 15, 29» and li. 3. |I Isa. xii. 15, 19 HISTORY OF CVRLfc. 337 pity on the fruit of the womb ; their eyes shall not spare children.* O daugh- ter of Babylon, who art to be destroyed, happy shall he be that rewardeth thee as thou hast served us. Happy shall he be, that taketh thy children, and dasheth them against the stones."! *' And Babylon, the glory of kingdoms, and the beauty of the Chaldee^s ex- cellency, shall be as wh(;n God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah. It shall never be inhabited, neither shall it be dwelt in, from generation to generation ; neither shall the Arabian pitch tent there ; neither shall the shepherds make their fold there : but wild beasts of the desert shall lie there, and their houses shall be full of doleful creatures, and owls shall dwell there, and satyrs shall dance there ; and the wild beasts of the island shall ciy in their desolate houses, and dragons in their pleasant palaces. J I shall also make it a possession of the bittern, and pools of water ; and I will sweep it with the besom of destruction., saith the Lord of hosts. The lord of hosts hath sworn, saying, Surely as 1 have thought, so shall it come to pass ; and as I have purposed, so shall it stand. IV. CYRUS CALLED TO DESTROY BABYLO/^, AND TO DELIVER THE JEAVS. Cyrus, whom Divine Providence was to make use of, as an instrument for the executing of his design of goodness and mercy towards his people, was mentioned in the Scripture by his name, above two hundred years before he was born. And, that the world might not be surprised at the prodigious ra- pidity of his conquests, God was pleased to declare in very lofty and remark- able terms, that he himself would be his guide ; and that in all his expeditions he would lead him by the hand, and would subdue all the princes of the earth before him. " Thus saith the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I have holden, to subdue nations before him ; and I will loose the loins of kings, to open before him the two-leaved gates, and the gates shall not be shut. I will go before thee, and make the crooked places straight. I will break in pieces the gates of brass, and cut in sunder the bars of iron. And I will give thee the treasures of darkness, and hidden riches of secret places, that thou mayest know, that I the Lord, which call thee by thy name, am the God of Israel ; for Jacob my servant's sake, and Israel mine elect, I have even called thee by thv name : I have surnamed thee, though thou hast not knovvn mejj V. GOD 0IVE3 THE SIGNAL TO THE COMMANDERS, AND TO THE TROOPS, T'J MARCH AGAINST BABYLON. " Lift ye up a banner," saith the Lord, " upon the high mountain," that it mav be seen afar oiF, and that all they who are to obey me may know my orders. " fixalt the voice unto them" that are able to hear you. ^' Shake the hand," and make a sign to hasten the march of those that are too far off to distinguish another sort of command. Let the officers of the troops " go into the gates of the nobles," into the pavilions of their kings. Let the people of each nation range themselves around their sovereign, and make haste to offer him their service, and to go into his tent, which is already set up.H I have commanded my sanctified ones ;"** I have given my orders to tho^e whom I sanctified for the execution of my designs : and these kings are already marching to obey me, though they know me not. It is I that have placed them upon the throne, that have made several nations subject to them, in order to accomplish my designs by their ministration. "I have called my mighty ones for mine anger."tt I have caused the mighty warriors to come up, to be the ministers and executioners of my wrath and vengeance. From me they derive (heir courage, their martial abilities, their patience, their wisdom, and the success of their enterprises. If they are invincible, it is because they serve me : every thing gives way, and trembles before them, because they are the ministers of my wrath and indignation. They joyfully labour for my g'ory, * Isa. xii. 15, 18. t I'sal. cxxxvii. 8, 9. J Isa. xiii. 19, 22. { Isa. xiv. 23, 2H. II Is«.xlv 1—4. IT Isa. xiii. 2. Isa. xiii 3 tt Lat. vers, in tr« mea. Heb. m iram. tneam. Vol. I. Id 53 n mirroiiY of cyrl». " ihey rejoice m my highness,*' The honour they haTe of being under my command, and of bemg sent to deliver a people that I love, inspires them vvitb ardour and cheerfulness : behold, they triumph already in a certain assurance of victory. The prophet, a witness in spirit of the orders that are just given, is astonished at the rapidity with which they are executed by the princes and the people. I hear already, he cries out, " the noise of a multitude in the mountains, likt as of a great people, a tumultuous noise of the kingdoms of nations gathered together. The Lord of hosts mustereth the host of battle The}'" come from a far country, from the end of heaven,"! where the voice of God, their Maslei and Sovereign, has reached their ears. But it is not with the sight of the formidable army, or of the kings of the earth, that I am now struck ; it is God himself that I behold ; all the rest are but his retinue, and the ministers of his justice. " It is even the Lord, ano the weapons of his indignation, to destroy the whole land " "A grievous vision is declared unto me " The impious Belshazzar, king of Babylon, continues to act impiously ;t "the treacherous dealer dealelb treacherously, and the spoiler spoileth. § To put an end to these excesses, gc up, thou prince of Persia : Go up, O Eiam and thou prince of the Medes, besiege thou Babylon: "Besiege, O Media; all the sighing which she was the cause of, have I made to cease The wicked city is taken and pillaged ' her power is at an end, and my people is delivered. VI. PARTICULAR CIRCUMSTANCES SET DOWN, RELATING TO THE SIEGE ANL THE TAKING OF BABYLON. There is nothing, perhaps, that can be more proper to raise a profound reverence in us for religion, and to give us a great idea of the Deity, than to observe with what exactness he reveals to his prophets the principal circum- stances of the besieging and taking of Babylon, not only many years, but several ages, before it happened. 1. We have already seen, that the army, by which Babylon will be taken, is to consist of Medes and Persians, and to be commanded by Cyrus. 2 The city shall be attacked after a very extraordinary manner, in a way that she did not at all expect: " Therefore shall evil come upon thee ; thou shall not know from whence it riseth."li She shall be all on a sudden and in an instant overwhelmed with calamities, which she did not foresee : " Desola- tion shall come upon thee suddenly, which thou shalt not know.H In a word, ~ she shall be taken, as it were, in a net or a gin, before she perceiveth that any snares have been laid for her: " I have laid a snare for thee, and thou art also taken, O Babylon, and thou wast not aware."** 3. Babylon was confident that the Euphrates alone w^as sufficient to render her impregnable, and triumphed in her being so advantageously situated, and de- fended by so deep a river : " O thou that dwellest upon many waters. "tt ft is God himself who points out Babylon under that description. And yet that very river Euphrates shall be the cause of her ruin. Cyrus, by a stratagem, of which there never had been any example before, nor has there been an}' thing like it since, shall divert the course of that river, shall lay its channel diy, and by that means open himself a passage into the city : " I will dry up her sea, and make her springs dry. A drought is upon her waters, and they shall be dried up. "JJ Cyrus shall take possession of the keys of the river ; and ^he waters, which rendered Babylon inaccessible, shall be dried up, as if they had been consumed by fire ; " the passages are stopped, and the reeds (hey have burnt with fire.§§ 4. She shall be taken in the night time, upon a day of feasting and rejoicir^, even while her inhabitants are at table, and think upon nothing but eatii^ * lia. xiii. 4. Q Im. x\v\i If. t Isa. xiii. 5. X This ibe spns.' of th« Hebrew word. J IT Ibid Jer I. '24. f\ r il. la. It J«r. i. 3S. Vu 36. {j Jer. k. » HISTORY OF CYRUS. 339 jind drinking : *^ In her heat I will make their feasts, and 1 will make them drunken, that they may rejoice, and sleep a perpetual sleep, and not wake, the Lord.''"*^ It is remarkable that it is God who does all this, who lays a snare for Babylon : "1 have laid a snare for thee ;"t who drieth up the wa- ters of the river ; ""4 will dry up her sea;" and who brings that drunkenness and drowsiness upon her princes; "I will make drunk her princes. "J 5. The king shall be seized in an instant with incredible terror and pertur- bation of mind : " my loins arc filled with pain ; pangs have taken hold ci? me, as the pangs of a woman that travaileth : I was bowed down at the hear- 111^ of it ; I was dismayed at the seeing of it; my heart panted, fearfulnes? affrighted me ; the night of my pleasure hath he turned into fear unto me."§ This is the condition Belshazzar was in, when, in the middle of the entertain- ment, he saw a hand come out of the wall, which wrote such characters upon it, as none of his diviners could either explain or read ; but more especially when Daniel declared to him, that those characters imported the sentence ot his death : " Then," says the Scripture, " the king's countenance was changed, and his thoughts troubled him, so that the joints of his loins were loosed, and his knees smote one against another."|| The terror, astonishment, fainting and trembling of Belshazzar, are here described and expressed in the same manner by the prophet who was an eye-witness of them, as they were by the prophet who foretold them two hundred years before. But Isaiah must have had an extraordinary measure of divine illumination, to be able to add, immediately after the description of Belshazzar's consterna- tion, the following words : prepare the table, watch in the watch-tower; eat, drink." IT The prophet foresees, that Belshazzar, though terribly dismayed and confounded at first, shall recover his courage and spirit again, through the ex- hortation of his courtiers ; but more particularly through the persuasion of the queen, his mother, who represented to him the unreasonableness of being af- fected with such unmanly fears, and unnecessary alarms ; " Let not thy thoughts- trouble thee, nor let thy countenance be changed."** They exhorted him, therefore, to make himself easy, to satisfy himself with giving proper orders, and with the assurance of being advertised of every thing by the vigilance of the sentinels; to order the rest of the supper to be served, as if nothing had hap- pened ; and to recall that gayety and joy, which his excessive fears had ba- nished from the table : " Prepare the table, watch in the watch-tower ; eat, drink." 6. But"at the same time that men are giving their orders, God on his part is likewise giving his : *' Arise, ye princes, and anoint the shieId."tT It is God himself that commands the princes to advance, to take their arms, and to enter boldly into a city drowned in wine, and buried in sleep. 7. Isaiah acquaints us with two material and important circumstances con- cerning the taking of Babylon. The first is, that the troops with which it is filled shall not keep their ground or stand firm any where, neither at the palace, nor the citadel, nor any other public place whatever ; that they shall desert and leave one another, without thinking of any thing but making their escape , tliat in running away they shall disperse themselves, and take different roads, just as a flock of deer, or of sheep is dispersed and scattered when they are affrighted: And it shall be as a chased roe, and as a sheep that no man ta keth up. "it The second circumstance is, that the greatest part of those troops, though they were in the Babylonian service and pay, were not Baby- lonians; and that they shall return into the provinces from whence they came, without being pursued hj the conquerors ; because the divine vengeance was chiefly to fall upon the citizens of Babylon : " They shall every man turn to his own people, and flee every one into his own land."§§ * Jer. li. 39. i) Dan. V. 6. ft Iw, «u 14 t Jer. li. 39. IT Isa. XXI it Isa. xlii 14 X Jer. li. 57 ^ Isa. xxi 3, 14. ♦* Dan. T. 10. M Isa. xiii 14 340 HISTORY OP CYRUS 8. Lastly, not to mention the dreadful slaughter which is to be made of the inhabitants of Babylon, where no mercy will be shown either to old men, wo- men, or children, or even to the child that is still within its mother's womb, as has been already taken notice of ; the last circumstance which the prophei foretells, is the death of the king himself, whose body is to have no burial and the entire extinction of the royal family ; both which calamities are de scribed in the Scripture, after a manner equally terrible and instructive to al princes. " B'.it thou art cast out of thy grave, like an abominable branch rhou shalt not be joined with them (thy ancestors) in burial, because thou hast destroyed thy land, and slain thy people."* That king is justly forgot, who has never remembered that he ought to be the protector and father of his people. He that has lived only to ruin and destroy his country, is unworthy of the common privilege of burial. As he has been an enemy to mankind, living or dead, he ought to have no place among them. He was like unto tne wild beasts of the field, and like them he shall be buried : and since he had no humanity himself^ he deserves to meet with no humanity from others. This is the sentence which God himself pronounceth against Belshazzar : and the malediction extends itself to his children, who were looked upon as hii associates in tne throne, and as the source of a long posterity and succes- sion of kings, and were entertained with nothing by the flattering courtierf, but ihe pleasing prospect and ideas of their future grandeur. " Prepare slaugh- terfoi his children, for the iniquity of their fathers; that they do not rise, nor possess the land. For I will rise up against them, saith the Lord of hosts, and cut off from Babylon the name and remnant, and son and nephew, saith the Lord.^t SECTION II. — A DESCRIPTION OF THE TAKING OF BABYLON. After having seen the predictions of every thing that was to happen to im pious Babylon, it is now time to come to the completion and accomplishment of those prophecies ; and in order thereto, we must resume the thread of our history, with respect to the taking of that city. As soon as Cyrus saw that the ditch, which they had long w^orked upon, was finished, he began to think seriously upon the execution of his vast design, which as yet he had communicated to nobody. Providence soon furnished him with as fit an opportunity for this purpose as he could desire. He was informed, that in the city, on a certain day, a great festival was to be celebrated ; and that the Babylonians, -on occasion of that solemnity, were accustomed to pass - the whole night in drinking and debauchery. Belshazzar himself was more concerned in this public rejoicing than any other, and gave a magnificent entertainment to the chief officers of the king- dom, and the ladies of the court. In the heat of his wine he ordered the gold and silver vessels, which had been taken from -the temple of Jerusalem to he brought out ; and, as an insult upon the God of Israel, he, his whole court, and all his concubines, drank out of those sacred vessels. God, who was provoked at such insolence and impiety, in the very action, made him sensible who it was that he offended, by a sudden apparition of a hand, writing certain cha racters upon the wall. The king, terribly surprised and affrighted at this vision, immediately sent for all the wise men, his diviners, and astrologers, that they might read the writing to him, and explain the meaning of it. But they all came in vain, not one of them being able to expound the matter, or even to read the characters.]: It is probably in relation to this occurrence, that Isaiah, after having foretold to Babylon, that she should be overwhelmed with calamities which she did not expect, adds, " stand now with thine en- cnantments, and with the multitude of thy sorceries. Let now the astrologers, the star-gazers, the monthly prognosticators, stand up-, and save thee From * Isa. xiv. 19, 20. + Isa. xiv. 21, 22. % The reaBon whjr they could not read ihW sentence was, that it was written in Hebrew letters, wbteli t.renow o«Ued the Samaritan characters, and which the Babylonians did not understand. HISTORY OF CYRD« 341 these things that shall come upon thee," Isa. xvlii. 12, 13. The queen-mo- ih^r, Nitocris, a princess of great merit, coming upon the noise of this prodigy inio the banqueting-room, endeavoured to compose the spirit of the king, her son, advising him to send for Daniel, with whose abilities in such matters she w^as well acquainted, and whom she had always employed in the government of the state.* Daniel was therefore immediately sent for, and spoke to the king with a freedom and liberty becoming a prophet. He put him in mind of the dreadful manner in which God had punished the pride of his grandfather, Nebuchad- nezzar, and the crying abuse he made of his power, when he acknowledged no law but his own will, and thought himself master to exalt and to abase, to mflict destruction and death wheresoever he would, only because such was his will and pleasure.! " ^nd thou his son," says he to the king, hast not hum- bled thine heart, though thou knewest all this, but hast lifted up thyself againet the Lord of heaven ; and they have brought the vessels of his house before thee ; and thou and thy lords, thy wives and thy concubines, have drunk wine in them ; and thou hast praised the gods of silver and gold, of brass, iron, wood, and stone, which see not, nor hear, nor know: and the God in whose hand thy breath is, and whose are all thy ways, hast thou not glorified. Then was the part of the hand sent from him, and this writing was written. And this is the writing that was written, jMene, Tekel, Upharsin.§ This is the interpreta tionof the thing; Mene, God hath numbered thy kingdom, and finished it; Tekel, thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting ; Peres, thy kingdom is divided, and given to the Medes and Persians." This interpreta- tion, one would think, should have enhanced the king's trouble ; but some way or other, they found means to dispel his fears, and make him easy ; probably upon the persuasion, that the calamity was not denounced as present or im- mediate, and that time might furnish them with expedients to avert it. This, however, is certain, that for fear of disturbing the general joy of the present festival, they put off the discussion of serious matters to another time, and sat down again to their mirth and liquor, and continued their revellings to a very late hour. Cyrus, in the mean time, well informed of the confiision that was generally occasioned by this festival, both in the palace and the city, had posted a pari of his troops on that side where the river entered into the city, and another part on that side where it w^ent out, and had commanded them to enter the city that very night, by marching along the channel of the river, as soon as ever they found it fordable. Having given all necessary orders, and exhorted his officers to follow him, by representing to them that He marched under the conduct of the gods ; in the evening he made them open the great receptacles, or ditches, on both sides of the town, above and below, that the water of the river might run into them. By this means the Euphrates was quickly emptied, and its channel became dry. Then the two fore-mentioned bodies of troops, according to their orders, went into the channel, the one commanded by Gobryas,and the other by Gadates, and advanced towards each other without meeting with any obstacle. The invisible Guide, who had promised to open all the gates to Cyrus, made the general negligence and disorder of that riotous night sub- servient to his design, by leaving open the gates of brass, which were made to shut up the descents from the quays to the river, and which alone, if they had not been left open, were sufficient to have defeated the whole enterprise. Thus did these two bodies of troops penetrate into the very heart of the city without any opposition, and meeting together at the royal palace, according to their agreement, surprised the guards, and cut them to pieces. Some of the company that were within the palace opening the doors, to know what noise * Dan. V. 1—29. t • Whom he would ne slew, and whom he would he kept alive, and whom he would he set up, and vhom he would he pul qow i." Dan. v. 19. J These three words signify nuwAtr, twe/g-A/, divit^on. J Or Pef*. 342 H^rORY OF CYRUS. \t was they heard without, the soldiers rushed in and quickly madu them?eivei masters of it. And meeting the king, who came up to them sword in hand, at tlie head of those that were in the way to succour him, they killed liim and put all those that attended him to the sword. The first thing the conquerors did afterwards, was to thank the gods for having at last punished that impious king. These words are Xenophon's, and are very remarkahle, as they so perfectly agree with what the Scriptures have recorded of the impious Belshazzar.* The taking of Babylon put an end to the Babylonian empi^-e, after a dura tion of two hundred and ten years from the beginning of Nabonassar's reign, r;ho was the founder thereof. Thus was the power of that proud city a bo lished, just fifty years after she had destroyed the city of Jerusalem and hei temple. And herein were accomplished those predictions which the prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Daniel, had denounced against her, and of which we have already given a particular account. There is still one more, the most important and the most incredible of them all, and yet the Scripture has set it down in the strongest terms, and marked it out with the greatest exactness ; a prediction literally fulfilled in all its points, the proof of which still actually subsists, is the most easy to be verified, and indeed of a nature not to be contested. What I mean is, the prediction of so total and absolute a ruin of Babylon, that not the least remains or footsteps should be left of it. I think it may not be improper to give an account of the perfect accomplishment of this famous prophecy, be- fore we proceed to speak of what followed the taking of Babylon.1 SECTION III. — THE COMPLETION OF THE PROPHECY WHICH FORETOLD THE TOTAL RUIN AND DESTRUCTION OF BABYLON. This prediction we find recorded in several of the prophets, but particularly in Isaiah, in the 13th chapter, from the 19th to the 22d verse, and in the 23d and 24th verses of the 14th chapter. I have already inserted it at lai^e, page 336, &c. It is there declared, that Babylon should be utterly destroyed, as the criminal cities of Sodom and Gomorrah formerly were ; that she shall be no more inhabited; that she shall never be rebuilt; that the Arabs shall nat so much as set up their tents there ; that neither herdsman nor shepherd shall come thither even to rest his herd or his flock ; that it shall become a dwelling- place for wild beasts, and a retreat for the birds of the night ; that the place where it stood shall be covered over with a marsh, or fen, so that no mark or footstep shall be left to show where Babylon had been. It was God himself who pronounced this sentence, and it is for the seiTice of religion, to show how exactly every article of it has been successively accomp?*shea. 1. In the Jirst place, Babylon ceased to be a royal citjr, the kings of Persia choosing to reside elsewhere. They delighted more in Shusan, Ecbatana, Persepolis, or any other place, and did tnemselves destroy a great part o Babylon, 2. We are Informed by Strabo and Pliny, that the Macedonians, vho suc- ceeded the Persians, did not only neglect it, and forbear to make any embel- lishments, or even reparations in it, but that moreover they built Seleucia in the neighbourhood, on purpose to draw away its inhabitants, and cause it io be deserted. § Nothing can better explain what the prophet had foretold,** li fhall not be inhabited." Its own masters endeavour to depopulate it. 3. The new kings of Persia, who afterwards became masters of Babylon, completed the ruin of it, by building Ctesiphon,|| which carried away all the remainder of the inhabitants ; so that, from the time the anathema was pro * Cyrop. 1. vii. p. 189—192. t A. M. 3466. Ant. .T. C. 538. J Partorn urbis Persae diruerunt, partem tempus consumpsit, ct Macedonuni neglitrentia ; maxime post quam Selencus Nicator Seleuciam ad I'igrira condidit, stadiis tantJini treccntis a Babylone dissitam. — Strab. I. xvi. p. 738. In ioUtudinemrediitexhausta vicinitate Seleuciae.ob id conditje a Nicatore intra nonagesimum (or q«adr rarcsimum) lapidem — Plin. 1. vi. c. 26. 5 A. M. 3880. Ant.J. C. 124. y Pro ilia Seleuciam st CUiiphontem urbei Persarum inclitas tecerunt. — S. Hieron. in cap. I§a. HISTORY OF CYRUS. iioiinced against that city, it seems as if those very persons that ougi.t to have protected her vi^ere become her enemies : as if they had all thought it theii duty to reduce her to a state of solitude, though by indirect means, and with out using any violence ; that it might the more manifestly appear to be the hand of God,rather than the handot man, which brought about her destruction. 4. She was so totally forsaken, that nothing of her w^as left remaining but the walls. And to this condition was she reduced at the time when Pausanias wrote his remarks upon Greece.* Ilia autem Babylon^ omnium quas unquorn sol aspexit urhlum maxima ^ jam "propter muros nihil habet reliqui. Pans, in Ar- I'dd, p. 509.t 5. The kings of Persia, finding the place deserted, made a park of it, in Hiich they kept wild beasts for hunting. Thus did it become, as the prophet had foretold, a dwelling-place for ravenous beasts, that are enemies to man ; Dr for timorous animals, that flee before him. Instead of citizens, it was now inhabited by wild boars, leopards, be a ^-s, deer, and wild asses. Babylon was now the retreat of fierce, savage, deadly creatures, that hate the light, and de- light in darkness. " WHd beasts of the desert shall lie there, and " dragons shall dwell in their pleasant palaces. St. Jerome has transmitted to us the follomng valuable remark, which he had from a Persian monk, that had himself seen what he related to him ; Didici- mus a quodum fratre Elamita, qui de illis Jinibus egrediens, nunc Hierosolymis vitam exegii monachorum, venationes regias esse in Babylone^ et omnis generis bestias murorum ejus ambitu tantum contineri. — In cap. Isa. xiii. 22. § 6. But it was still too much that the walls of Babylon were standing. At length they fell down in several places, and were never repaired. Various ac- cidents destroyed the remainder. The animals, which served for pleasure to the Persian kings, abandoned the place ; serpents and scorpions remained, so that it became a dreadful place for persons that should have the curiosity Vj visit, or search after its antiquities. The Euphrates, that used to run through the city, having no longer a free channel, took its course another way ; so thaf in Theodoret's time, there was but a very little stream of water left, which ran across the ruins, ahd, not meeting with a descent or free passage, necessarily expanded into a marsh.|| In the time of Alexander the Great, the river had left its ordinary channel, by reason of the outlets and canals which Cyrus had made, and of which we have already given an account ; ttiese outlets, being ill stopped up, had occa- sioned a great inundation in the country. Alexander, designing to fix the seat of his empire at Babylon, projected the bringing back the Euphrates into its natural and former channel, and had actually set his men to work.^ But the Almighty, who watched over the fulfilling of his prophecy, and w^ho declared he would destroy even to the very remains and traces of Babylon, " I will cut olf from Babylon the name and remnant,*'*^ defeate 1 this enterprise by the death of Alexander, which happened soon after. It is e«^5y to comprehend how, after thi«» Babylon being neglected to such a degree as we have seen, its river was converted into an inaccessible pool, which covered the very place where tiiat impious city had stood, as Isaiah had foretold, " I will make it pools of water. ''tt And this was necessary, lest the place where Babylon had stood should be discovered hereafter by the course of the Euphrates. 7. By means of all these changes, Babylon became an utter desert, and all the country round fell into the same state of desolation and horror ; so that the ablest geographers at this day cannot determine the place were it stood.j]: In this manner God's prediction was literally fulfilled ; " I will make it a posses- * He wrote in the rei2:n of Antoninus, successor to Adrian, t A. D. 90. 1 isa. xiii. 21, 22. J A. D. 400. I) Euphrates quondam urbem ipsam mediam divi-iehat ; nunc autem fiuvius conrersus est in aliam v.-am, tt perrudera minimus aquarum meatus fluil. — Theod. in cap. 1. Jerem. 38 et 39. H Arrian. de Kxped. Alex. 1. vlii. *♦ Isa. xvi. 22. ft Iga. xvi. aSi. XX Nuac omnino destructa« itA ut vix sjus suptrsint rudera. — BaMdran- 844 HISTORY OF CYRUS. •?on for the bittern, and pools of water ; and 1 will sweep it with the bea4>o; of destrjction, saith the Lord of hosts/'* I myself, saith the Lord, will ex amine with a jealous eye, to see if there be any remains of that city, which was an enemy to my name and to Jerusalem. 1 will thoroughly sweep the p^ace where it stood, and will clear it so effectually, by defacing every trace of the city, that no person shall be able to preserve the memory of the place chosen b}^ Nimrod, and which I, who am the Lord, have abolished. " 1 will sweep it with the besom of destruction, saith the Lord of hosts." o. (rod was not satisfied with causing all these alterations to be foretold, but, to give the greater assurance of their certainty, thought fit to seal the pre diction of them by an oath. " The Lord of hosts hath sworn, saying, Surely as 1 have thought, so shall it come to pass ; and as I have purposed, so shall stand."! But if we should take this dreadful oath in its full latitude,we must not confine it either to Babylon, or to its inhabitants, or to the princes who reigned therein. The malediction relates to the whole world ; it is the genera) anathema pronounced against the wicked ; it is the terrible decree, by which the two cities of Babylon and Jerusalem shall be separated for ever, and an eternal divorce be put between the good and the wicked. The Scriptures, that have foretold it, shall subsist till the day of its execution. The sentence is written therein, and deposited, as it were, in the public archives of religion. The Lord of hosts hath sworn, saying. Surely, as I have thought, so shall it come to pass ; and as I have purposed, so shall it stand." What I have said of this prophecy concerning Babylon, is almost entirely taken out of an excellent treatise upon Isaiah, which is still in manuscript. SECTION IV. — WHAT FOLLOWED UPON THE TAKING OF BABYLON. Cyrus having entered the city after the manner we have described, put all to the sword that were found in the streets ; then commanded the citizens to Dring him all their arms,' and afterw^ards to shut themselves up in their houses. The next morning, by break of day, the garrison, which kept the citadel, being surprised that the city was taken, and their king killed, surrendered themselves to C^^rus. Thus did this prince, almost without striking a blow, and without any resistance, find himself in peaceable possession of the strongest place in the world.;j; The first thing he did was to thank the gods for the success they had given him. And then, having assembled his principal officers, he publicly ap|)lauded their courage and prudence, their zeal and attachment to his person, and dis- tributed rewards to his whole army. After which he represented to them, that the only means of preserving what they had acquired, >vas to persevere in their ancient virtue ; that the proper end of victory was not to give themselves up to idleness and pleasure ; that after having conquered their enemies by force of arms, it would be shameful to suffer themselves to be overthrown by the allurements of pleasure ; that, in order to maintain their ancient glory, it be- hooved them to keep up among the Persians at Babylon the same discipline they had observed in their own country, and, for that end, to take parti- cular care to give their children education. This, says he, will necessarily engage us daily to make farther advances in virtue, as it will oblige us to be diligent and careful in setting them good examples ; nor will it be easy for them to be corrupted, w hen they shall neither hear nor see any thing among js but what excites them to virtue, and shall be continually employed inhon- "jurable and laudable exercises. § Cyrus committed the different parts and offices of his government to differ- ent persons, according to their various talents and qualifications ; but the care of forming and appointing general officers, governors of provinces, ministers, and ambassadors, he reserved to himself, looking upon that as the proper duty and employment of a king, upon w^hich depended his glory, the success of fais • iMujiv. 23. t Isa. XIV. 24. J Cyro;>. 1. vii. p. 19Q { Cyrop. 1. vii. p. 197-^2^90 HISTORY OF CYRUB. 345 affairs, and the happiness and tranquillity of his kingdom. His great talent was to study the particular character <){ men, in order to place every one in his proper sphere, to give them authority in proportion to their merit, to make their private advancement concur with the puhlic good, and to make tlie whole machine of the state move in so regular a manner, that every part should have a dependence upon, and mutuall}^ contribute to support each other ; and that the strength of one should not exert itself but for the benefit and advantage of the rest. Each person had his district, and his particular sphere of business, of which he gave an account to another above him, and lie again to a third, and so on, till, by these different degrees and regular subordination, the cog- \iizance of affairs came to the king himself, who did not stand idle in the mids* of all this motion, but was, as it were, the soul to the body of the state, which, by this means, he governed with as much ease as a father governs his pri- vate family.* When he afterwards sent governors, called satraps, into the provinces under his subjection, he would not suffer the particular governors of places, or the commanding officers of the troops maintained for the security of the country, to depend upon those provincial governors, or to be subject to any one but him- self ; that if any of the satraps, elated with his power or riches, made an ill use of his authority, there might be found witnesses and censors of his mal- administration within his own government. For there was nothing he so care- fully avoided, as the trusting any one man with an absolute power, knowing that a prince will quickly have reason to repent his having exalted one person so high, that all others are thereby abased and kept under.t Thus Cyrus established a wonderful order with respect to his military affairs, his treasury, and civil government. In all the provinces he had persons of ap- proved integrity, w^ho gave him an account of every thing that passed. He made it his principal care to honour and reward all such as distinguished them- selves by their merit, or were eminent in any respect w'hatever. He preferred clemency far before martial courage, because the latter is often the cause of ruin and desolation to whole nations, w^hereas the former is ahvays beneficent and useful.]; He was sensible, that good laws contribute very much to the forming and preserving of good manners ; but, in his opinion, the prince, by his example, was to be a living law to his people :§ nor did he think a man worthy to reign over others, unless he was more wise and virtuous than those he governed :|1 he w^as also persuaded, that the surest means for a prince to gain the respect of his courtiers, and of such as approached his person, w^as to liave so much regard for them, as never to do or say any thing before them, contrary to the rules of decency and good manners. IF He looked upon liberality as a virtue truly royal ; nor did he think there was any thing great or valuable in riches, but the pleasure of distributing them to others.** " I have prodigious riches," says he to his courtiers, 1 o\vn, a-id I am glad the world knows it; but you may assure yourselves, they are as much yours as mine. ^ For to what end should I heap up wealth? For my own use, and to consume it myself? That w^ould be impossible, if I desired it. No ; the chief end I aim at, is to have it in my powder to reward those who serve /he public faithfully, and to succour and relieve those that will acquaint me with their wants and necessities. "It Crcesus one day represented to him, that by continual giving, he w^ould af last make himself poor ; whereas he might have amassed infinite treasures, and (lave been the richest prince in the wwld. *' And to what sum," replied Cyrus, do you think those treasures might hare amounted?" Croesus named a cer- tain sum, which was immensely great. Cyrus thereupon ordered a short not', ^o be written to the lords of his court, in which it was signified to them, thr.t he had occasion for money. Immediately a much larger sum w^as brought .o him than Crcesus had mentioned. Look iiere," says Cyrus to him, here * Cyrop. p. 20^1. t Cyrop. 1 vlii. p. ^29. t Cvrop. p. 509. ^ Cvrop. y. '.01 It Cyrov. p. Sfe^ IB" Cyrop. p t204. *♦ Cyrop. !. viii. p. -ICO. ft '-'>f^v'- P- 346 HISTORir OF CYRUS, are my treasures : the chests I keep my riches in, are the hearts and affectiom of my subjects."* But as much as he esteemed liberality, he still laid a greater stress upon kindness and condescension, affability and humanity, which are qualities still more engaging, and more apt to acquire the affection of a people, which is pro- perly to reign. For a prince to be more generous than others in giving, when he is infinitely more rich than tlffejs has nothing in it so surprising or extraor dinary, as to descend in a manner from the throne, and to put hinr self upon a level with his subjects. But what Cyrus preferred to all other things, was the worship of the gods, and a reppect for religion. Upon this, therefore, he thought himself obliged to bestow his first and principal care, as soon as he became more at leisure, and more master of his time, by the conquest of Babylon. He began by establish- ing a number of magi, to sing daily a morning-service of praise to the honour of the gods, and to offer sacrifices ; which was always practised among them in succeeding ages.t The prince's disposition quickly became, as is usual, the prevailing dispo- sition among his people ; and his example became the rule of their conduct. The Persians, who saw that Cyrus's reign had been but one continued chain and series of prosperity and success, believed, that by serving the gods as he did, they should be blessed with the like happiness and prosperity : besides, they were sensible that it w^as the surest way to please their prince, and to make their court to him successfully. Cyrus, on the other hand, was extremely glad to find them have such sentiments of religion, being convinced, that who- ever sincerely fears and worships God, will at the same time be faithful to his king, and preserve an inviolable attachment to his person, and to the welfare of the state. All this is excellent, but is only true and real in the true religion. Cyrus being resolved to settle I is chief residence at Babylon, a powerful city, which could not be very well affected to him, thought it necessary to be more cautious than he had been hitherto, in regard to the safety of his person. The most dangerous hours for princes within their palaces, and the most likely for treasonable attempts upon their lives, are those of bathing, eating, and sleeping. He determined, therefore, to suffer nobody to be near him at those times, but those persons on whose fidelity he could absolutely rely ; and on this account he thought eunuchs preferable to all others ; because as they had neither wives, children, nor families, and besides were generally despised on account of the meanness of their birth, and the ignominy of their condition, they were engaged by all sorts of reasons to an entire attachment to their mas- ter, on whose life their whole fortune depended, and on whose account alone it was, that they were of any consideration. Cyrus therefore filled all the ofBces of his household with eunuchs ; and as this had been the practice be- fore his time, from henceforth it became the general custom of all the eastern countries.! It is well known, that in after times this usage prevailed also among the Ro- man emperors, with whom the eunuchs were the reigning, all powerful favour- ites ; nor is it any wonder. It was very natural for the prince, after having confided his person to* their care, and experienced their zeal, fidelity, ana nierit, to intrust them also with the management of affairs, and by degrees to give himself up to them. These expert courtiers knew how to improve those favourable nioments, when sovereigns, delivered fro.n the weight of their dig- nity, which is a burden to them, become men, and familiarize themselves with their officers. And by this policy having got possession of their masters' mindt and confidence, they came to be in great credit at court, to have the adminis- tration of public affairs, and the disposal of employments and honours, and to arrive, themselves, at the highest offices and dignities of the state. But the good emperors, such as Alexander Severus, held the eunuchs in ab- korrence, looking upon them as creatures sold and attached only to their for- Cyrop. f *10. t Cyrop. p. 104. HISTORY OF CVRUfi. 347 c»aie,.ind enemies by principle to the public good ; persons, whose only vicfi was o get possession of the prince's mind, to keep all persons of merit from him, to conceal affairs as much as possible from his knowledge, and to keep him shut up and imprisoned in a manner, within the narrow circle of three or four officers, who had an entire ascendant and dominion over him Clandentes principem suum, et agentes ante omnia ne quid sciat,^ When Cyrus had given orders about every thing relating to the govern- ment, ne resolved to show himself publicly to his people, and to his new-con- quered subjects, in a solemn, august cerem.ony of religion, hy marching in a pompous cavalcade to the places consecrated to the gods, in order to offer sacrifices to them. In this procession Cyrus thought fit to displa}^ all possible splendour and magnificence, to catch and dazzle the eyes of the people. This was the first time that this prince ever aimed at procuring a respect to himself, not only by the attractions of virtue, says the historian, but by such an exter- nal pomp as was proper to attract the multitude, and work like a charm or enchantment upon their imaginations.! He ordered the superior officers of the Persians and allies to attend him, and gave each of them a suit of clothes of the Median fashion, that is to say, long garments which hung down to the feet. These clothes were of various colours, all of the finest and brightest dye, and richly embroidered with gold and silver. Besides those that were for themselves, he gave them others, very splendid also, but less costly, to present to the subaltern officers.^ It was on this occasion the Persians first dressed themselves after the manner of the Medes, and began to imitate them in colouring their eyes, to make them appear more lively, and in painting their faces, in order to beautify their complexions. § When the time appointed for the ceremony was come, the whole company assembled at the king's palace by break of day. Four thousand of the guards, drawn up four deep, placed themselves in front of the palace, and two thou- sand on the two sides of it, ranged in the same order. All the cavalry were also drawn out, the Persians on the right, and that of the allie.« on the left. The chariots of war were* ranged half on one side, and half on the other. As soon as the palace gates were opened, a great number of bulls of exquisite beauty were led out by four and four : these were to be sacrificed to Jupiter and other gods, according to the ceremonies prescribed by the magi. Next followed the horses that were to be sacrificed to the Sun. Immediately aftei them a white chariot, crowned with flowers, the pole of which was gilt : this was to be offered to Jupiter. Then came a second chariot of the same co- lour, and adorned in the same manner, to be offered to the Sun. After these followed a third, the horses of which were caparisoned with scarlet housings. Behind came the men who carried the sacred fire in a large hearth. When all these were on their march, Cyrus himself made his appearance upon his car, with his upright tiara upon his head, encircled with the royal diadem. His under tunic was of purple mixed with white, which was a colour peculiar to kings. Over his other garments he wore a large purple cloak. His hands were uncovered. A little below him sat the master of the horse, who was of a comely stature, but not so tall as Cyrus, for which reason the stature of the latter appeared still more advantageously. As soon as the people perceived the prince, they all fell prostrate before him, and worshipped him: whether it was, that certain persons appomted on purpose, and placed at proper dis- tances, led others by their example, or that the people were moved to do it of their own accord, being struck with the appearance of so much pomp and magnificence, and with so many awful circumstances of majesty and splendour. The Persians had never prostrated themselves in this manner before Cyrus, till on this occasion. * Lamprid. in vita Alex. Sever, t *AXXa xa] KaTayotjTfufiv &£to xP^vai aurSi- t Cyrop. I. tIU. p. 3l». 3M ^ Cyv^. p. 30«. 348 HISTORY OF CYRIS TV hen Cyrus's chariot was come out of the palace, the lour thousand guards began to march ; the other two thousand moved at the same time, and placed themselves on each side of the chariot. The eunuchs, or great officers of the king's household, to the number of three hundred, richly clad, with javelins in their hands, and mounted upon stately horses, marched immediately after the chariot. After them were led two hundred horses of the king's stable, each of them having embroidered furniture and bits of gold. Next came the Persian cavalry, divided into four bodies, each consisting of ten thousand men ; then the Median horse, and after those the cavalry of the allies. The chari- ots of war, four abreast, brought up the rear, and closed the procession. When the}'- came to the fields consecrated to the gods, they offered thcii sacrifices first to Jupiter, and then to the Sun. To the honour of the first, bulJs were burnt, and to the honour of the second, horses. They likewise sacrificed some victims to the Earth, according to the appointment of the Magi ; then to the demi-gods, the patrons and protectors of Syria.* In order to recreate the people after this grave and solemn ceremony, Cyrus thought fit that it should conclude with games, and horse and chariot races. The place where they were was large and spacious. He ordered a certain portion of it to be marked out about the distance of five stadia,! and proposed prizes for the victors of each nation, which were to encounter separately, and among themselves. He himself won the prize in the Persian horse-races, (or nobody was so complete a horseman as he. The chariots ran but two at > fime, one against another. This kind of racing continued a long time afterwards among the Persians except only that it was not always attended with sacrifices. All the ceremo nies being ended, they returned to the city in the same order. Some days after, Cyrus to celebrate the victory he had obtained in the horse races, gave a great entertainment to all his chief officers, as well strangers a.« Medes and Persians. They had never yet seen any thing of the kind so sump- tuous and magnificent. At the conclusion of the feast he made every one a noble present ; so that they all went home with hearts overflowing with joy, admiration, and gratitude ; and all pow^erful as he was, master of all the East, and so many kingdoms, he did not think it descending from his majesty tc conduct the whole company to the door of his apartment. Such were the manners and behaviour of those ancient ttmes, when men understood how tc unHe great simplicity with the highest degree of human grandeur.J ARTICLE III. THE HISTORY OF CYRUS FROM THE TAKING OF BABYLON TO THE TIME OP HIS DEATH. Cyrus, finding himself master of all the East by the taking of Babylon, did not imitate the example of most other conquerors, who sully the glory of theii victories by a voluptuous and effeminate life, to which they fancy they may justly abandon themselves after their past toils, and the long course of hard- ships they have gone through. He thought it incumbent upon him to maintain his reputation by the same methods he had acquired it, that is, by a prudent conduct, by a laborious and active life, and a constant application to the duties of his high station. SKCTION I. CYRUS TAKES A JOURNEY INTO* PERSIA. AT HIS RETURN FROM THENCE TO BABYLON, HE FORMS A PLAN OF GOVERNMENT FOR THE WHOLE EMPIRE. Daniel's credit and power. When Cyrus judged he had sufficiently regulated his affairs at Babylon, he thought proper to take a journey into Persia.§ In his way thither he wen^ * Anion? Ibe ancients, Syria often put for Aitjria. t ^ * X Cyrop. 1. v.J^ p. 220—234. 5 Cyrop. 1. viii, p. 227 niSTOllV OF CYRirs. .'^49 through: Me d\ a, lo visit his uncle Cyaxares, to whom he carried very magnifi- cent preseris, telling him. at the same time, that he would find a noble palace at labylon, ready prepared for him, whenever he should please o ^o thither ; and that he was to look upon that city as his own. Indeed Cyrus, as long as his uncle lived, held the empire only in copartnership with him, though he had entirely conquered and acquired it by his own valour. Nay, so far did he carry his complaisance, that he let his qncle enjoy the first rank. This is t-he Cyaxares, who is called in Scripture Darius the Mode ; and we shall find, that under his reign, which lasted but two years, Daniel had several revelations.*^ U appears, that Cyrus, when he returned from Persia, was accompanied by Cyax- ares to Babylon. When they arrived there, they concerted together a scheme of government for the whole empire. They divided it into a hundred and twenty provinces. 1 And that the prince's orders might be conveyed with the greater expedition, Cyrus caused post-houses to be erected at proper distances, where the couriers, that travelled day and night, found horses always ready, and by that mean*^ performed their journeys with incredible despatch.^ The government of these provinces was given to those persons that had assisted Cyrus most, and ren- dered him the greatest service in the w^ar.§ Over these governors were ap- pointed three superintendents, who were always to reside at court, and to whom the governors were to give an account, from time to time, of every thing that passed in their respective provinces, and from whom they were to receive the prince's orders and instructions ; so that these three principal ministers had the superintendency over, and the chief administration of, the great affairs of the whole empire. Of these three Daniel was made chief.il He highly deserved such a preference, not only on account of his great wisdom, which was celebrated throughout all the East, and had appeared in a distinguished manner at Bel- shazzar's feast, but likewise on account of his great age, and consummate expe- rience. For at that time it was fully sixty-seven years, from the fourth of Nebuchodonosor, since he had been employed as prime minister of the kings of Babylon. As this distinction had made him the second person in the empire, and placed him immediately under the king, the other courtiers conceived so great a jealousy of him, that they conspired to destroy him.. As there was no hold to be taken of him, unless it w^as on account of the law of his God, to which they knew him inviolably attached, they obtained an edict from Darius, whereby all persons were forbidden to ask any thing whatever, for the space of thirt}' days, either of any god or any man, save of the king ; and that upon pain of being cast into the den of lions. Now, as Daniel w^as saying his usual prayers, with his face turned towards Jerusalem, he was surprised, accused, and ca^* into the den of lions. But being miraculously preserved, and coming out safe and unhurt, his accusers were thrown in, and immediately devoured by those animals. This event still augmented Daniel's credit and reputation.^ Towards the end of the same year, which was reckoned the first of Darius the Mede, Daniel, knowing by the computation he made, that the seventy years of Judah's captivity, determined by the prophet Jeremiah,were drawing towards an end, he prayed earnestly to God, that he w^ould remember his people, re« build Jerusalem, and look with an eye of mercy upon his holy city, and the sanctuary he had placed therein. Upon which the angel Gabriel assured him in a vision, not only of the deliverance of the Jews from their temporal capti vity, but likewise of another deliverance much more considerable, namely, a deliverance from the bondage of sin and Satan, which God w^ould procure to his church, and w^hich was to be accomplished at the end of seventy weeks, that were to elapse from the time the order should be given for the rebuilding of Jerusalem, that is, after the space of four hundred and ninety years; for, * A. M. 3466. Ant. J. C 538. f Dan. v'u 1. % Cvrop. 1. viil.p.232. ( CfTOp. p. 230. H Dan. vi. 2, 3. IT Cyro-^ vi. 4—27. 3b0 lUS'J'ORY OF CYRUS. taking each day for a year, according to the language soine^imes used ir» r)o]y Scripture, those seventy weeks of years make up exactly four hundred and ninety years.* Cyrus, upon his return to Babylon, had given orders for all his forces to join him there. On the general review made of them, he found they consisted of a hundred and twenty thousand horse, tw^o thousand chariots armed witli scythes, and six hundred thousand foot. When he had furnished the garrisons w^ith as many of them as were necessary for the defence of the several parts of the empire, he marched with the remainder into Syria, where he regulated the affairs of that province, and then subdued all those countries, as far as the Red Sea, and the confines of Ethiopia.! ^ It was probably in this interval of time, that Daniel was cast into the den of lions and miraculously delivered from them, as we have just related. Perhaps in the same interval also were those famous pieces of gold coined, which are called Darics, from the name of Darius the Mede, which for their fineness and beauty, were for several ages preferred to all other money through- out the East. SECTION II. — THE BEGINNING OF THE UNITED EMPIRE OF THE PERSIANS AND MEDES. THE FAMOUS EDICT OF CYRUS. DANIEl's PROPHECIES. Here, properly speaking, begins the empire of the Persians and Medes united under one and the same authority. This empire from Cyrus, the first king and founder of it, to Darius Codomanus, w^ho w^as vanquished by Alex- ander the Great, lasted for the space of two hundred and six years, namely, from the year of the w-orld 3468 to the year 3674. But in this volume J pro- pose to speak only of the first three kings ; and little remains to be said of the founder of this new empire. Cyrus.J Cyaxares dying at the end of two years, and Cambyses likewise ending his days in Persia, Cyrus returned to Babylon, and took upon him the government of the new empire. The years of Cyrus's reign are computed differently. Some make it thirty years, beginning from his first setting out from Persia, at the head of an army, to succour his uncle Cyaxares : others make the duration of it to be but seven years, because they date it only from the time when, by the death of Cyaxa- res and Cambyses, he became sole monarch of the whole empire. § In the first of these seven years precisely, expired the seventieth year of the Babylonish captivity, when Cyrus published the famous edict, whereby the Jews were permitted to return to Jerusalem. || There is no question but this edict was obtained by the care and solicitations of Daniel, who was in great credit and authority at court. That he might the more effectually induce the king to grant him his request, he showed him undoubtedly the prophecies of Isaiah, wherein, above two hundred years before his birth, he was marked out by name, as a prince appointed by God to be conqueror, and to reduce a mul- titude of nations under his dominion ; and, at the same time, to be the deliverer of the captive Jews, by ordering their temple to be rebuilt, and Jerusalem and Judea to be repossessed by their ancient inhabitants. I think it may not be improper, in this place, to insert that edict at length, which is certainly the most glorious circumstance in the life of Cyrus, and for which it may be pre- sumed God had endowed him with so many heroic virtues, and blessed him with such an uninterrupted series of victories and success. " Now in the first year of Cyrus, king of Persia, (that the word of the Lord by the mouth of Jeremiah, might be fulfilled,) the Lord stirred up the spirit (i Cyrus king of Persia, that he made a proclamation throughout all his king d m, and put it also in writing, saying, Thus saith Cyrus king of Persia, The Lord God of heaven hath given me all the kingdoms of the earth, and he hath ♦ rWin. ix. 1—27. t Cyrop. 1. riii. p. 235 i Cic. 1. i. d« D\r n 46 t A. M. 3468. Ant. / C. 53« P I»a xlir. aod sir. HISTORY OF CYRUi^. 351 charged me to build a house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Who is i.iere ainonfi^ you of all his people ? his God be with him, and let him go up to Jeru- salem, which is in Judah, and build the house of the Lord God of Israel (he is the true God) which is in Jerusalem. And whosoever remaineth in any place where he sojourneth, let the men of his place help him with silver, and with £;old, and with goods, and with beasts, besides the free-will-oifering for the house of God that i« in Jerusalem."* Cyrus at the same time restored to the Jews all the vessels of the temple of ihe Lord, which Nebuchodonosor had brought from Jerusalem, and placed in the temple of his god Baal. Shortly after, the Jews departed under the con- duct of Zorobabel, to return into their own country. The Samaritans, who had formerly been the declared enemies of the Jews, did all they possibly could to hinder the building of the temple ; and though they could not alter Cyrus's decree, yet they prevailed by bribes and secret dealings with the ministers and other otTicers concerned therein, to obstruct the execution of it, so that for several years the building went on very slowly. \ It seems to have been outof grief to see the execution of this decree so lonff retarded, that in the third year of Cyrus, in the first month of that year, Daniel gave himself up to mourning and fasting for three weeks together. J He was then near the river Tigris in Persia. When this time of fasting was ended, he saw the vision concerning the succession of the kings of Persia, the empire of the Macedonians, and the conquests of the Romans. This revelation is rela- ted in the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth chapters of the prophecies of Daniel, of which 1 shall soon speak. By what we find in the conclusion of the last chapter, we have reason to con- jecture that he died soon after ; and, indeed, his great age makes it unlikely that he could live much longer ; for, at this time, he must have been at least eighty-five years of age, if we suppose him to have been twelve when he was carried to Babylon with the other captives. From that early age he had given proofs of something more than human wisdom, in the judgment of Susannah. He was ever afterwards very much esteemed by all the princes who reigned at Babylon, and was always employed by them with distinction in the adminis- tration of their affairs. § Daniel's wisdom did not only reach to things divine and political, but also to arts and sciences, and particularly to that of architecture. Josephus speaks of a famous edifice built by him at Susa,|| in the manner of a castle, which he says still subsisted in his time, finished with such wonderful art, that it then seemed as fresh and beautiful as if it had been but lately built. 11 Within this palace the Persian and Parthian kings were usually buried ; and for the sake of the founder, the keeping of it was committed to one of the Jewish nation, even to his time. It was a common tradition in those parts for many ages, that Daniel died in that city,** and there they show his monument even to this day. It is certain, that he used to go thither from time to time, and he himself tells us, that " he did the king's business there ;"tt that is, was governor for the king of Babylon. REFLECTIONS ON DANIEL's PROPHECIES, I HAVE hitherto deferred making any reflections upon the prophecies of Daniel, which certainly to any reasonable mind are a very convincing proof of the truth of our religion. I shall not dwell upon that which personally re- lated to Nebuchadnezzar, and foretold in what manner, for the punishment of his pride, he should be reduced to the condition of the beasts of the field. * Ezra ii. 1—7. t Ezra xv. 1—5. % A. M. 3470. Ant. J. C. 534. Dan. x. 1—3 { "But go thou thy way till the end be ; for thou shalt rest, and stand in thy Ijt at the end of the days.** Dan. xii. 13. ' ^ {| So it ought to be read, according to St. Jerom, -who relates the i«me fact ; Com. in Dao. riii. 2. aad Mf* Ccbatana, as it is now read in the text of Josephus. % Antiq. 1. x. cap. 12. N»w called Tuiter. t| Dan. riii. 07 HISTORY or CYRUS. and after a certain number of years, restored again to his understanding and to his throne. It is well known, the thing happened exactly according tc Daniel's prediction ; the king himself relates it in a declaration, addressed to all the people and nations of his empire. Was it possible for Daniel to ascribe SMch a manifesto or proclamation to Nebuchadnezzar, if it had not been genuine ; to speak of it, as a thing sent into all the provinces, if nobody had seen it ; and in tfie midst of Babylon, that was full both of Jews and Gentiles, to publish an attestation of so important a matter, and so injurious to the king and of which the faNehood must have been notorious to all the world ?* I shall content myself with representing very briefly, and under one and the same point of view, the prophecies of Daniel, which signify the succession of four great empires, and which for that reason have an essential and necessary relation to the subject matter of this work, which is only the history of those very empires. The tirst of these prophecies was occasioned by the dream Nebuchadnezzar iVad, of an image composed of different metals, gold, silver, brass, and iron , which image was broken in pieces, and beat as small as dust, by a little stone from the mountain, which afterwards became itself a mountain of extraordinary height and magnitude.! This dream I have already spoken of at large.J About fifty years after, the same Daniel saw another vision, very like that which I have just been speakine: of :§ this was the vision of the four large beasts, which came out of the sea. The first was like a lion, and had eagle's wings : the second was like a bear: the third was like a leopard, which had four heads : the fourth and last, still more strong and terrible than the other, had great iron teeth ; it devoured and brake in pieces, and stamped the residue with its feet. From the midst of the ten horns which this beast had, there came up a little one, which had eyes like those of a man, and a mouth speaking great things, and this horn became greater than the others : the same horn made war with the saints, and prevailed against them, until the Ancient of Days, that is, the everlasting God, came, and sitting upon his throne, surrounded with a thousand millions of angels, pronounced an irreversible judgment upon the four beasts, whose time and duration he had determined, and gave the Son of Man power over all the nations and all the tribes, an everlasting power and dominion which shall not pass away, and a kingdom which shall not be destroyed. It is generally agreed, that these two visions, the one of the image composed of different metals, the other of the four beasts that came out of the sea, sig- nified so many different monarchies, which were to succeed one another, were to be successively destroyed by each other, and were all to give place to the eternal empire of Jesus Christ, for whom alone they had subsisted. It is also agreed, that these four monarchies were those of the Babylonians, of the Per- sians and Medes united, of the Macedonians, and of the Romans. || This is plainly demonstrated by the very order of their succession. But where did Daniel see this succession and this order ? Who could reveal the changes of empires to him, but He only who is the master of times and monarchies, who has determined every thing by his own decrees, and who, by a supernatural, revelation, imparts the knowledge of them to whom he pleases ?1I In the following chapter, this prophet still speaks with greater clearness and precision.** For after having represented the Persian and Macedonian monar chies under the figure of two beasts, he thus expounds his meaning in the plain- est manner. The ram which hath two unequal horns, represents the king of th«5 Medes and Persians ; the goat which overthrows and tramples him under his feet, is the king of the Grecians ; and the great horn, which that animal has be- * Dan. iv. f Dan. ii. J Page 288 of this volume. { This was the first year of Belshazzar, king of Babylon. Dan. vii. II Some interpreters, instead of the Romans^ put the kings of Syria and Egypt, Alcxander*i successorii If »' Hechang**h the timet and the seasons; he removeth and setteth up kings; he revealeth th« d«9t ».-id secret thinjs ; and th« light dwelleth with him." Dan. ii. 21, 22. ** Dan. viii. HISTORY OF CYltta. 353 tween bis eyes, represents the first king and founder of that monarchy. How did Daniel see, that the Persian empire should be composed of two different nations, Medes and Persians ; and that this empire should be destroyed by the power of the Grecians ? How did he foresee the rapidity of Alexander's con- quests, which he so aptly describes, by saying, that "he touched not the ground?" How did he learn, that Alexander should n(>t have any successor equal to him- self, and that the first m.onarch of the Grecian empire should be likewise tlie most powerful ?''^ By what other light than that of divine revelation could he discover, that Alexander would have no son to succeed h im 5 that his empire would be dismembered, and divided into four principal kingdoms, and his successors would be of his nation, but not of his blood ; and that out of the /uins of a monarchy so suddenly- formed, several states would be established, i)f which some would be in the east, others in the west, some in the south, and others in the north ? The particulars of the facts foretold in the remainder of the eighth, and in the eleventh chapter, are no less astonishing. How could Daniel m Cyrus's reign, foretell,! that the fourth of Cyrus's successors^ should gather together all his forces, to attack the Grecian states ? How could this prophet, who lived so long before the times of the Maccabees, particularly describe all the per- secutions which Antiochus should bring upon the Jews ; the manner of his abc lishing the sacrifices, which were daily offered in the temple of Jerusalem ; the profanation of that holy place, by setting up an idol therein, and the vengeance which God w^ould inflict upon him for it ? How could he, in the first year of the Persian empire, foretell the wars which Alexander's successors would make in the kingdoms of Syr'm and Egypt, their mutual invasions of one another's territories, their insincerity in their treaties and their marriage alliances, which could only be made to cloak their fraudulent and perfidious designs ?§ I leave to the intelligent and religious reader to draw the conclusion which naturally results from these predictions of Daniel ; for they are so clear and express, that Porphyry, a professed enemy of the Christian religion, could find no other way of disputing the divine original of them, than by pretending that they were written after the events, and rather a narration of things past, than a prediction of things to come.ll Before i conclude this article of Daniel's prophecies, I must desire the reader to remark, what an opposition the Holy Ghost has put between the empires of the world, and the kingdom of Jesus Christ. In the former, every thing appears great, splendid, and magnificent. Strength, power, glory, and majesty,. seem to be their natural attendants. In them we easily discern those great warriors, those famous conquerors, those thunderbolts of war, who spread terror every where, and whom nothing could withstand. But then they are represented as wild beasts, as bears, lions, and leopards, whose sole attribute is to tear in pieros, to devour, and to destroy. What an image and picture is this of con- guerors ! How admirably does it instruct us to lessen the ideas we are apt to ^^rm, as well of empires, as of their founders or governors ! In the empire of Jesus Christ it is quite otherwise. Let us consider its origm and first rise, or carefully examine its progress and growth at all times, and we shall find, that weakness and meanness, if I may be allow^ed to say so, have always outwardly been its striking characteristics. It is the leaven, the grain of mustard-seed, the little stone cut out of the mountain. And yet, m reality, there is no true greatness but in this empire. The eternal Word is the founder and the king thereof. All the thrones of the earth come to pay homage to his. and to bow themselves before him. The end of his reign is the salvation oi * And a mi| nty king shall stand up, that shall rule with great domiaion : and his king-dom shall be dy --■•dcd towards the four winds of heaven, and not to his posterity, nor according to his dominion which he ruled." Dan. XI. 3, 4. Four kingdoms shall stand up out of the nation, but not in bis power.'* — Dan. riii. 2-7. \ " Behold, there shall stand up yet three kings of Persia, and the fourth shall be far richer than they til : and by his strength, through his riches, he shall stijup all ag'ainst the realm of Grecia." — Dan. xi. li, X Xerxes. { Dan. xi. < — 45. || S. Hieron. in Froen . ad Com. 1). Dan Vol. I 354 HISTORY OF CYRIiS mankind ; it is to make them eternally happy, and to form to himself a nation of saints and just persons, who are all of them so many kings and conquerors. It is for their sakesonly, that the whole world doth subsist : and when the num- ber of them shall be complete, " then," says St. Paul, " cometh the end and consummation of all things, when Jesus Christ shall have delivered up the kingdom to God. even the Father ; when he shall have put down all rule, ar.d all auth3rity and power.'"*^ Can a writer who sees, in the prophecies of Daniel, that the several empires of the world, after having subsisted the time determined for them by the sove reign Disposer of kingdoms, do all terminate and centre in the empire of Jesus Christ; — can a writer,! say, amid all these profane objects, forbear turning his eyes now and then towards that great and divine one, and not have it always in view, at least at a distance, as the end and consummation of all othei-s SECTION III. THE LAST YEARS OF CYRUS. THE DEATH OF THAT PRINCE. Let us return to Cyrus. Being equally beloved by his own natural subjects, and by those of the conquered nations, he peaceably enjoyed the fruits of hi« labours and victories. His empire was bounded on the east by the river Indus^ on the north b}^ the Caspian and Euxine Seas, on the west by the iEgean Sea, and on the south by Ethiopia and the Sea of Arabia. He established his resi- dence in the midst of all these countries, spending generally seven montlis of the year at Babylon in the winter season, because of the warmtli of that cli- mate ; three months at Susa in the spring, and two months at Ecbatana durin;^ the heat of the summer.! Seven years being spent in this state of tranquillity, Cyrus returned into Per- sia, which was the seventh time from his accession to the whole monarchy, which shows that he used to go regularly into Persia once a j^ear. Cambyseshad now been dead for some time, and Cyrus himself w^as grown pretty old, being at this time about seventy years of age ; thirty of which had passed since his being first made general of the Persian forces, nine from the taking of Bab^^lon, and seven from his beginning to reign alone after the death of Cyaxares. To the very last he enjoyed a vigorous state of health, which was the fruit of his sober and temperate life.J And as they who give themselves up to drunk- enness and debauchery often feel all the infirmities of age, even while they are young, Cyrus, on the contrary, at a very advanced age, enjoyed all the vigour and advantages of youth. When he perceived the time of his death to draw nigh, he ordered his chikU ren, and the chief officers of the state, to be assembled about him ; and after having thanked the gods for all their favours towards him through the course of his life, and implored the like protection for his children, his country, and his friends, he declared his eldest son, Cambyses, his successor, and left the other, whose name was Tanaoxares, several very considerable governments He gave them both excellent instructions, by representing to ihem, that the main strength and support of the throne, was neither the vast ex tent of coun- tries, nor the number of forces, nor immense riches, but a dm respect for the gods, a good understanding between brethre-n, and the art of accjuiring and pre serving true and faithful friend§. " I conjure you, therefore,' said he, my dear children, in the name of the gods, to respect and love one another, if you would retain any desire to please me for the future. For I do not think you will esteem me to be no longer any thing, because you will not see me after my death. You never saw my soul to this instant ; you must have known, however, by its actions, that it really existed. Do you believe, that honours would still be paid to those whose bodies are now but ashes, if their souls had no longer any being or power ? No, no, my sons ; I could never imagine that * 1 Cor. XV. 24. ^ I Cyrop. 1. viii. p. 233, &c. I Cyrui, quidem, apud Xenophontem eo sermone.quem inoriens habull, cum a^lmodum senex esset.netfat ■e un^uam fenwMe senectutem suam imbecilliort^m factaut, quam ;;dolescentia fuisset.- Cic. de Ben. u. 30 % H1»T0RV >r CYRUS. fhe soul only lived whiit; m a morial body, and died when separa ed from it. But if 1 mistake, and nothing of me shall rergain after death, at least fear the p^ods, who never die, who see all things, and whose power is infinite. Fear them, and let that fear prevent you from ever doing, or deliherating to do, any thing contrary to religion and justice. Next to them fear mankind, and tlie ages to come". The gods have not buried you in obscurity, but iiave exposed you upon this great theatre to the view of the whole universe. If your actions are guiltless and upright, be assured they will augment your glor^ and power. Fo, my body, my sons, when life has forsaken it, enclose it neither in gold nor silver, nor any other matter whatever. Restore it immediately to the EARTH. Can it be more happy than in being blended, and in a manner incoi - porated,with the benefactress and common mother of mankind ?" After having given his hand to be kissed by all that were present, finding himself at the point of death, he added these last words : " Adieu, dear children ; may^ your lives be happy ; carry my last remembrance to your mother. And tor you, my faithful friends, as well absent as present, receive this last farewell, and may you live in peace!" After having said this, he covered his face, and died equally lamented by all his people.'* The order given by Cyrus to restore his body to the earth, is'very remarka- ble He would have thought it disgraced and injured, if enclosed in gold or silver. Restore it to the earth, says he. Where did that prince learn, that it was from thence it derived its original ? Behold one of those precious traces of tradition as old as the world. Cyrus, after having done good to his subjects during his whole life, demands to be incorporated with the earth, that benefactress of the human race, to perpetuate that good, in some measure, even after his death. character and eulogy of CYRUS. Cyrus may justly be considered as the wisest conqueror, and the most ac- complished prince, to be found in profane history. He was possessed of all (he qualities requisite to form a great man ; wisdom, moderation, courage, magnanimity, noble sentiments, a wonderful ability in managing men's tem- pers and gaining their affections, a thorough knowledge of every branch of the military art as far as that age had carried it, a vast extent of genius and capacity for forming, and an equal steadiness and prudence for executing the greatest designs. It is very common for those.heroes who shine in the field, and make a great figure in the time of action, to make but a very poor one upon other occasions, and in matters of a different nature. We are astonished, when we see them alone and without their armies, to find what a difference there is between a general and a great man ; to see what low sentiments and mean actions they are capable of in private life ; how they are influenced by jealousy, and go- verned by interest ; how^ disagreeable and even odious they render themselves by their haughty deportment and arrogance, which they think necessary to preserve their authority, and which only serve to make them hated and despised Cyrus had none of these defects. He appeared always the same, that is, always great, even in the most indifferent matters. Being assured of his great- ne>s, of which real merit was the foundation and support, he thought o^' no- thing more than to lender himself affable, arid easy of access : and whatever he seemed to lose by this condescending, humble demeanor, was abundantly compensated by the cordial affection and sincere respect it procured him from his people. Never was any prince a greater master of the art of insinuation, so neces- sary for those that govern, and yet so little understood or practised. He knew perfectly what advantages may result from a single word rightly timed, frora an obliging carriage, from a command ten>pered with reason, from a little ♦ A. M. 3475. Ant J. C. 529. HISTORY OF UyKt'S praise in grantinff a favour, and from softening a refusal with expressions ol concern and good-will. His history abounds with beauties of this kind He was rich in a sort of wealth which most sovereigns want, who are pos- sessed of every thing but faithful friends, and whose indigence in that paiti cular is concealed by the splendour and affluence with which they are sur- rounded. Cyrus was beloved, because he himself had a love for others ; for. has a man any friends, or does he deserve to have an}^ when he himself i.« void of friendship ? Nothing affects us more, than to see in Xenophon, the manner in which Cyrus lived and conversed with his triends, always preserving as much dignity as was requisite to keep up a due decorum, and yet infinitely removed from that ill-judged haughtiness, which deprives the great of the most innocent and agreeable pleasure in life, that of conversing freely and so ciably with persons of merit, though of an inferior station.* The use he made of his friends may serve as a perfect model to all persons m authority. His friends had received from him not only the liberty, but an express command, to tell him whatever they thought.! And though he was much superior M all his officers in understanding, yet he never undertook any thing without asking their advice : and whatever w^as to be done, whether it was to reform any thing in the government, to make changes in the army, or to form a new enterprise, he would always have every man speak his senti- ments, and would often make use of them to correct his own ; so different was lie from the person mentioned by Tacitus, who thought it a sufficient reason for fv^jecting the most excellent project or advice, that it did not proceed from him- self : Consilii, qnamvis egregii, quod ipse non qfferet^ inimicus.X Cicero observes, that, during the whole time of Cyrus's government, he was never heard to speak one rough or angry word : Cujus swnmo in imperio nemo unquam verbum ullum asperius audivit,^ What a high encomium for a prince is comprehended in thai short sentence ! Cyrus must have had a very great command of himself, to be able, in the midst of so much agitation, and in spite of all the intoxicating effects of sovereign power, always to preserve his mind in such a state of calmness and composure, that no crosses, disappoint- ments, or unforeseen accidents, should ever ruffle its tranquillity, or provoke him to utter any harsh or offensive expression. But, what was still greater in him, and more truly royal than all this, was his steadfast persuasion, that all his labours and endeavours ought to tend to the happiness of his people ; and that il was not by the splendour of riches, by pompous equipages, luxurious living, or a magnificent table, that a king ought to distinguish himself from his subjects, but by a superiority of merit in every kind, and particularly by a constant indefatigable care and vigilance to pro mote theii interests, and to secure the public welfare and tranquillity.il He said himself one day, as he was discoursing with his courtiers upon the duties of a king, that a prince ought to consider himself as a shepherd, iI the image under which both sacred and profane antiquity represented good kings, and that he ought to exercise the same vigilance, care, and goodness. " It is his duty," says he, " to watch, that his people may live in safety and quiet; to charge him- self with anxieties, and cares, that they may be exempt from them : to choose whatever is salutary for them, and remove what is hurtful and prejudicial ; to place his delight in seeing them increase and multiply, and valiantly expose his own person in their defence and protection. This," says he, " is the na tural idea, and the just image of a good king. It is reasonable, at the same time, that his subjects should render him all the service he stands in need of; hxii it is still more reasonable, that he should labour to make them happy ; because it is for that very end that he is their king, as much as it is the end and office of a shepherd to take care of his flock." * Habes amicos, quia amicus ipse es. — Paneg-. Trajan. f Plut. i. iii. de Leg-, p. 694. X Hist. 1 i. c. 26. \ Cic. 1. i. Epist. ait ^. Fratrem. jj Cyrop. 1. i. p. 27 U *« Thou •halt feed my reople," la^id God to David, : Sam. v. 2. TTom' vf \au)V, «avs Homer in maov (laceg. HISTORY OF CYRUS. j^-^ ^, Indeed, to be the guardian of the commonwealth, and to be king ; to be for (he people, and to be their sovereign, is but one and the same thing. A man is born for others, when he is born to govern, because the reason and end of governing others is only to be useful and serviceable to them. The very basi* and foundation of the condition of princes is, not to be for themselves ; the very characteristic of their greatness is, thatthe}^ are consecrated to the public good. They may properly be considered as a light, which is placed on high, only to diffuse and shed its beams on every thing belo^v. Are such sentiments as these ^ny disparagement to the dignity of the regal state ? It was by the concurrence of all these virtues that Cyrus founded such an ex- tensive empire in so short a time ; that he peaceably enjoyed the fruits of his conquests for many years ; that he made himself so much esteemed and be- loved, not only by his own natural subjects, but by all the nations he had con- quered ; that after his death he was universally regretted as the common father of all the people. We ought not, indeed, to be surprised that Cyrus was so accomplished in every virtue (it will be readily understood, that I speak only of pagan virtues,) because we know it was God himself, who had formed him to be the instrument and agent of his gracious designs towards his peculiar people. When I say that God himself had formed this prince, I do not mean that he did it by any sensible miracle, nor that he immediately made him such as we admire in the accounts we have of him in history. God gave him a happy genius, and implanted in his mind the seeds of all the noblest qualities, dis- posing his heart at the same time to aspire after the most excellent and sublime virtues. But above all, he took care that this happy genius should be ctltiva- ted by a good education, and by that means be prepared for the great designs for which he intended him. We may venture to say, without fear of being mistaken, that the greatest excellencies in Cyrus were owing to his education, where the confounding of him, in some sort, with his subjects, and the keeping him under the same subjection to the authority of his teachers, served to era- dicate that pride which is so natural to princes ; taught him to hearken to advice, and to obey before he came to command ; inured him to hardship and toil ; accustomed him to temperance and sobriety ; and, in a word, rendered him such as we have seen him throughout his whole conduct, gentle, modest, affable, obliging, compassionate ; an enemy to all luxury and pride, and still more so to flattery. It must be confessed, that such a prince is one of the most precious and valu- able gifts that Heaven can make to mortal men. The infidels themselves have acknowledged this; nor has the darkness of their false religion been able to hide these two remarkable truths from their observation, that all good kings are the gift of God. and that, such a gift includes many others ; for nothing can be so excellent as that which bears the most perfect resemblance to the Deity ; and the nob est image of the Deity is a just, moderate, chaste, and virtuous prince, who rules with no other view than to establish the reign of justice and virtue. This is the portraiture which Pliny has left us of Trajan, anci which has a great resemblance to that of Cyrus. Nullum est prarstabiltus et pulchrius Dei munus erga mortales, quam castm, et sanctus, et Deo similli^ mus princeps* When I narrowly examine this hero's life, there seems to have been one cir- cumstance Avanting to his glor}% which would have enhanced it exceedingly ; ( mean that of having struggled under some grievous ca-lamity for some time, ind of having his virtue tried by some sudden reverse of fortune. I know, indeed, thpt the emperor Galba, when he adopted Piso, told him that the stings of prosperity were infinitely sharper than those of adversity ; and that the former put the soul to a much severer trial than the latter : Fortunam adhuc iantum adversam tulisli : secundce res acrioribus stimulis explorant animos,^ • Paneg. Tra|f. t Tac. Hist. 1. i. c. 15- 558 BISTORT Ox"" CYKUS. And the reason he gives is, that when misfortunes come with their whole weig 1 upon a man's soul, she exerts herself, and summons all her strength to bear< 9 the burden ; whereas prosperit}^ attacking the mind secretly or insensibl » leaves it all its weakness, and insinuates a poison into it, by «jo much the mc < dangerous, as it is the more subtile : Quia mtserice tolerantur, felicitate n • rumpimur. However, it must be owned that adversity, when supported with nooien and dignity, and surmounted by an invincible patience, adds a great lustre tu a prince's glory, and gives him occasion to display many fine qi alities >r]d virtues, which would have been concealed in the fcosom of prosperity ; as a greatness of mind, independent of every thing without ; an unshaken constancy, proof agam«;t the severest strokes of fortune ; an intrepidity of soul animated at the sight ol danger ; a fruitfulness in expedients, improving even from crosses and disappointments; a presence of mind, which views, and provides against every thing ; and lastly, a firmness of soul, that not only suffices to support itself, but 's capable of supporting others. Cyrus wanted this kind of glory.* He himself informs us, that during the whole course of his life, which was pretty long, the happiness of it was never interrupted } y any unfortunate accident ; and that in all his designs the suc- cess had ansrvered his utmost expectation. But he acquaints us, at the same time, with another thing almost incredible, and which was the source of all thai moderation and evenness of temper so conspicuous in him, and for which he can never be sufficiently admired ; namely, that in the midst of his uninter- rupted prosperity he still preserved in his heart a secret fear, proceeding from the changes and misfortunes that might happen : and this prudent fear was not only a preservative against insolence, but even against intemperate joy. j There remains one point more to be examined, with regard to this prince's reputation and character ; I mean the nature of his victories and conquests, upon which I shall touch but lightlj^. If these were founded only upon ambi- tion, injustice, and violence, Cyrus would be so far from meriting the praises bestowed upon him, that he would deserve to be ranked among those famous robbers of the universe, those public enemies to mankind,! who acknowledged no right but that of force ; who looked upon the common rules of justice, as laws which only private persons were obliged to observe, and derogatory to the majesty of kings ; who set no other bounds to their designs and pretensions, than their incapacity of carrying them any farther ; who sacrificed the lives of millions to their particular ambition ; who made their glory consist in spread- ^ ing desolation and destruction, like fires and torrents ; and who reigned as bears and lions would if they were masters.§ This is indeed the true character of the greatest part of those pretended he- roes whom the world admires ; and by such ideas as these, w^e ought to correct the impressions made upon our minds by the undue praises of some historians, and the sentiments of many, deceived by his false images of greatness. I do not know whether I am not biassed in favour of Cyrus, 1: it he seems to me to have been of a very difFeient character from those conqtierors, whom I have just now described. Not that I would justify Cyrus in eveiy respect, oi represent him as exempt from ambition, which undoubtedly was the roul of all his undertakings; but he certainly reverenced the law^s, and knew that thtr? are unjust wars, which render him who wantonly provokes them accountable for all the blood that is shed. Now, every war is of this sort, to which the prince is induced by no other motive than that of enlarging his conquests, of acquiring a vain reputation, or rendering himself terrible to his neighbours. Cyrus, as we have seen, at the beginning of the war, founded all hi? hopes of success on the justice of his cause, and represented to his soldiers, in order to ♦ Cyrop. 1. riii. p. 234. t Obu elaiiiya. (pfovcrv, «5' fu nus, to facilitate this enterprise, Cambyses adopted the following stratagem. B(iir«g informed that the whole garrison consisted of Egyptians, he placed in U'ont of his army a great number of cats, dogs, sheep, and other animals. v\>^h were looked upon as sacred by that nation, and then attacked the city ,17 ;-'orm. The soldiers of the garrison, not daring either to fling a dart, oi an a^rrow that way, for fear of hitting some of those animals, Cainbysc*- ">€c\TAvi master of the place without opposition.;}; W'biVTi Cambyses had got possession of the city. Psamn^enitus advanced "vith .1 great army to stop his progress ; and a considerable battle ensued be tweei) thtm. But before the}^ engaged, the Greeks, who ^vere in tiie army 0/ Psamin.K-nitus, in order to be revenged of Phanes for his revolt, took his cliild ren, which he had been obliged to leave in Egypt when he fled, cut their throats b»tween the two camps, and in presence of the two armies drank their [?bod. 'I'his outrageous cruelty did not procure them the victory. The Per- sians, enr^iged at so horrid a spectacle, fell upon them with great fury, quickly t outed and overthrev/the whole Egyptian army, the greatest part of which were kJled upcn the spot. Those that could save themselves escaped to Memphis. § On the occasion of this battle, Herodotus takes notice of an extraordinary circumstance, of which he himself was a witness. The bones of the Persians and Egyptians were still in the place where the battle was fought, but separated fn(3m one another. The skulls of the Egyptians were so hard, that a violent .stroke of a stone would hardly break them ; and those of the Persians so soft, that yo"j might break them, or pierce them through, with the greatest ease imaginable. The reason of this difference was, that the former, from their in fancy, weie accustomed to have their heads shaved, and to go uncovered whereas the latter had their heads always covered with their tiaras, which i> one of their principal ornaments. || Cambyses, having pursued the fugitives to Memphis, sent a herald into the rity, in a vessel of Mitylene, by the river Nile, on which Memphis stood, to summon the inhabitants to surrender. But the people, transported with rage fell upon the herald, and tore him and all ttiat were with him to piejes. Cam- byses, having soon after taken the place, fully revenged the indig'iity, causing ten times as many Egyptians, of the first nobility, as there had beej of his people massacred, to be publicly executed. Among these was the elde^.t son of Psam menitus. As for the king himself, Cambyses was inclined to creat him kindly rie not only spared his life, but appointed him an honourable maintenance But the Egyptian monarch, little affected with this kind usage, did what he U)uld to raise new troubles and commotions, in order to recover his kingdom LS a punishment for which, he was made to drink bull's blood, and died .*mme diately. His reign lasted but six months, after which all Egypt submitted to the conqueror On the news of this success, the Lydians the Cyrenians . and tlie Barceans, all sent ambassadors with presents to Cambyses, to offei him ^ their submissions. IT W From Memphis he went to the city of Sais, which was the burying-place ot Ihf kings of Egypt. As soon as he entered the palace, he caused the bodyol lUaasis to be taken out of his tomb ; and, after having exposed it to a thousand • Herod in. c. 4 — 9 Herod. I iii • 11. t HeioH. 1. iii. c. 10. I] '''rrn. r. U i Polya».n. !. vVi. *\ Id«ni. c 13 362 HiSTORY OF CAMUYSm mdigiiitiea in his own presence, he ordered it to be cast into the are and humy/M which was a thing equally contrary to the customs of the Persians and Egy^^B tia'is. The rage this prince testified against the dead carcase of Amasis. showH| to what a degree he hated his person. Whatever was the cause of that aver- sion, it serins to have been one of the chief motives Cambyses had for carrying his arms into Egypt.* The next year, which was the sixth of his reign, he resolved to make w^ai in three different countries ; against the Carthaginians, the Ammonians, and the Ethiopians. The first of these projects he was obliged to lay aside, because the Phoenicians, without whose assistance he could not carry on that war, refused to succour him against the Carthaginians, who were descended from them, Car- thage being originally a Tyrian colony. t But, being determined to invade the other tv/o nations, he sent ambassador* into Ethiopia, who, under that character, were to act as spies for him, to learn the state and strength of the country, and give him intelligence of both. They carried presents along with them, such as the Persians were used toTuake, as purple, golden bracelets, perfumes, and wine. These presents, among which there was nothing useful or serviceable to life, except the wine, w^ere despised by the Ethiopians ; neither did they make much more account of his ambas- sadors, whom they took for what they really w^ere, spies and enemies in dis- guise. However, the king qf Ethiopia was willing, after his manner, to make a present to the king of Persia ; and taking a bow in his hands, which a Persian was so far from being able to draw, that he could scarcely lift it, he drew it in presence of the ambassadors, and told them : " This is the present and the counsel the king of Ethiopia gives the kmg of Persia. When the Persians shall be able to use a bow of this size and strength, with as much ease as I have now bent it, then let him come to attack the Ethiopians, and bring more troops with him than Cambj^ses is master of. In the mean time, let them thank the gods for not having put it into the hearts of the Ethiopians to extend their dominion? beyond their own country. "J This answer having enraged Cambyses, he commanded his army to begin their march immediately, without considering, that he neither had provisions nor any thing necessary for such an expedition : but he left the Grecians be- hind him, in his newly conquered country, to keep it in subjection during his absence. § As soon as he arrived at Thebes, in Upper Egj^pt, he detached fifty thou sand of his men against the Ammonians, ordered them to ravage the country ^ and to destroy the temple of Jupiter Ammon, w^hich was famous there. Bu* after they had made several days march in the desert, a violent wind blowing from the south, brought such a vast quantity of sand upon the army, that the men were all overwhelmed and buried under it. 11 In the mean time, Cambyses marched forw^ard like a madman against the EthioDians, not^vithstanding his being destitute of all sorts of provisions,which quickly caused a terrible famine in his army. He had still time, says Hero- dotus, to remedy this evil ; but Cambyses would have thought it a dishonour to have desisted irom his undertaking, and therefore proceeded in his expedition. Alt first his army was obliged to live upon herbs, roots, and leaves of trees but, coming afterwards into a country entirely barren, they were reduced to the necessity of eating their beasts of burden. At last they w^ere brought to such a cruel extremity, as to be obliged to eat one another ; every tenth man upon whom the lot fell, being doomed to serve as meat for his compan- ions ; a meat, says Seneca, more cruel and terrible than famine itself : Deci^ mum ouemque sortiti, alimentieni na(meruntfame siEvius.^ Notwithstanding all this, the king still pershvcd in his design, or rather in his madness, nor did the miserable desolation of his army make him sensible of his error. But at length, beginning to be afraid for his own person, he ordered them to return. Dy * Her«d. I. iii r. if^. t Iifein. c. 17, 19. % Idem. c. 20^-24. 4 ia«in. c. ^ Idem. o. 2S. n{ Pc Irn, I iii HISTORY OF CAMliYSES. 363 ring all tin's dread/'ul famine among the troops, (who would believe it ?) ther^ was no abatement of delicacies at his fcible, and camels were still reserved to Ccxiry his kitchen furniture, and the instruments of his luxury : Servabantur illi interim gertrosfe aves, et instrumenta epularum camelis vehebantur^ cum %ortircntHr milites ejus quis male periret, cjuis pejus viveret,'^ The remainder of his army, of which the greatest part was lost in this ex- pedition, he brought back to Thebes, where he succoeded nujch better in the war declared against the gods, whom he found more easy 1o h^. conquered than men. Thebes was full of temples, that were incredibly ricn and niagsii- ncent. All these Cambyses pillaged, and then set them on fire. The rich- ness of these temples must have been vastly great, since the very remains, saved from the flames, amounted to an immense sum, three hundred talents of gold, and two thousand three hundred talents of silver.! He likewise car- ried awa}^ at this time the famous circle of gold, that encompassed the tomb of Ozyinandias, being three hundred and fifty-five cubits in circumference, and in which were represented all the motions of the several constellations. t From Thebes he went back to Memphis, where he dismissed all the Greeks, and sent them to their respective homes ; but on his return into the city, find- ing it full of rejoicings, he fell into a great rage, supposing all this to have been for the ill success of his expedition. He therefore called the magistrates before him, to know the meaning of these public rejoicings ; and upon their telling him, that it was because they had found their god Apis, he would not believe them, but caused them to be put to death as impostors that insulted him and his misfortunes. And then he sent for the priests, who made him the same aiisw^er ; upon which he replied, that since their god was so kind an'l familiar as to appear among them, he w^ould be acquainted with him, and therefore commanded him forthwith to be brought to him. But when instead of a god he saw a calf, he w^as strangely astonished, and falling again into a rage, he drew out his dagger, and run it into the thigh of the beast ; and then, upbraiding the priests for their stupidity in worshipping a brute for a god, or- dered them to be severely whipped, and all the Egyptians in Memphis, tha sliould be found celebrating the feast of Apis, to be slain. The god was car ried back to the temple, where he languished of his wound for some time, and then died.§ The Egyptians say, that after this fact, which they reckoned to have ]}een tlie highest instance of impiety that ever was committed among them, Carnbyses g^ew mad. But his actions showed him to have been mad l^ng before, of which he continued to give various instances : among the rest are these following.!! He had a brother, the only son of Cyrus, besides himself, and born of the same mother : his name, according to Xenophon, was Tanaoxares, but Hero- dotus calls him Smerdis, and Justin, Mergis. He accompanied Cambyses in his Egyptian expedition. But, being the only person, among all the Persians, that could draw the bow which the ambassadors of Cambyses brought bin: from the king of Ethiopia, Cambyses from hence conceived such a jealousy against him, that he could bear him no longer in the army, but sent him back into Persia. And not long after, dreaming that somebody told him that Smer- dis sat on the throne, he conceived a suspicion that his brother aspired to the throne, and sent after him into Persia, Prexaspes, one of his chief confidents Vi ith orders to put him to death, w^hich he accordingly executed. II This murder was the cause of another still more criminal. Camln^ses had A ah him in the camp his youngest sister, whose name was Meroe. Herodotus informs us in what a strange manner his sister became his wife. As the prin- cess was exceedingly beautiful, Cambyses absolutely resolved to marry her. To that end he called together all the judges of the Persian nation, to whom belonged the interpretation of their laws, to know of them, whether there wai any law that would allow a brother to marry a sister. The judges, being un- * T)e Ira. 1. iii. c 20- t Diod. Sic. 1. i. p 43. }} Herod. 1. ii'i. - X Idem. p. 46. 364 History of cambysbs willing on the one hand directlj to authorize such an incestuous marriage, and on the other, fearing the king's violent temper should they contradict him, en- deavoured to find out a subterfuge, and gave him this crafty answer : that they had no law indeed which permitted a brother to marry a sister, but they had a law which allowed the king of Persia to do what he pleased. This answer, serving his purpose as w^ell as a direct approbation, he solemnly married her, and hereby gave the first example of that incest, which was afterwards prac- tised by most of his successors, and by some of them carried so far as to marrj their own daughters, how repugnant soever it be to modesty and good order. This lady he carried with him in all his expeditions, and her name being Me- roe, he gave it to an island in the Nile, between Egypt and Ethiopia, on the conquering of it, having advanced thus far in his wijd march against the Ethio- pians. The circumstance that gave occasion to his murdering this princess, "tvas as follow^s. One day Cambyses was diverting himself in seeing a combat between a young lion and a young dog ; the lion having the better, another dog, brother to him that was engaged, came to his assistance, and helped him to master the lion. This adventure mightily delighted Cambyses, but drew tears from Meroe, who being obliged to tell her husband the reason of her weeping, confessed that this combat made her call to mind the fate of her brother Smerdis, who had not the same good fortune as that littfe dog. There needed no more than this to excite the rage of this brutal prince, who imme- diately gave her, notwithstanding her being with child, such a blow with his foot on the belly, that she died of it. So abominable a marriage deserved no better end.* He caused also several of the principal of his followers to be buried alive, and daily sacrificed some one or other of them to his wild fury. He had obliged Prexaspes, one of his principal officers and favourites, to declare to him w^hat his Persian subjects thought and said of him. " They admire, Sir," says Prexaspes, " a great many excellent qualities they see in you, but they are somewhat mortified at your immoderate love of wine." ''I understand you," replied the king, " that is, they pretend that wine deprives me of my reason ; you shall be judge of that immediately." Upon which he began to drink excessively, pouring it down in larger quantities than he had ever done before. Then ordering Prexaspes's son, who w^as his chief cup-bearer, to stand upright at the end of the room, with his left hand upon his head, he took his bow% and levelled it at him ; and declaring that he aimed it at his heart, let fly, and actually shot him in the heart. He then ordered his side to be opened, and showing the father the heart of his son, which the arrow had pierced, asked him, in an insulting, scoffing manner, if he had not a steady hand ? The wretched father, who ought not to have had either voice or life remaining, after a stroke like this, was so mean-spirited as to reply, Apollo himself could not have shot better." Seneca, who copied this story from Herodotus, after having shown his detestation of the barbarous cruelty of the prince, con- demns still more the cowardly and monstrous flattery of the father^ Scelera- tius telum illud laudotum est, quam missurn,] When Croesus took upon him to advise Cambyses against these proceedings, and laid before him the ill consequences they would lead to, he ordered him to De put to death. And when those who rt>ceived his order, knowing he would repent of it the next day, deferred the execution, he caused them all to V?e put to death, because they had not obeyed his commands, though at the same time he expressed great joy that Croesus w^as alive.J It was about thi? time, Oretes, one of the satraps of Cambyses, who had the government of Sardis, after a very strange and extraordinary manner, brought about the death of Polycrates, tyrant of Samos. The story of this Polycrates i? of so singular a nature, that the reader will not be displeased if I repeat it here. This Polycrates was a prince, who, through the whole course of his life, had been perfectly prosperous and successful in all his affairs, and had never mel • Herod. I. iii e. 3J, 32. f Idem. c. S4> S6. Sen. ) iii d« Ira, c 14. t H*rod. > v, e. S6 HISTORY OF ^65 with the least disappointment, or unfortunate accident, to disturb his felioty. Amasis, king of Egypt, his friend and ally, thought himself obliged to send hinc a letter of admonition upon that subject. In this letter he declared to him, that he had terrible apprehensions concerning his condition ; that such a long and uninterrupted course of prosperity was to be suspected ; that some malignam mvidious god, who looks upon the fortune of men with a jealous eye, woulo certainly, sooner or later, bring ruin and destruction upon him ; and, in ordci to prevent such a fatal stroke, he advised him to procure some misfortune tG himself by some voluntary loss, that he was persuaded would prove a sensible mortification *o him.* The tyrant followed his advice. Having an emerald ring which he highly ♦isteemed, particularly for its curious workmanship, as he was walking upon ihedeck of one of his galleys with his courtiers, he threw it into the sea w ith out any one's perceiving what he had done. Not many days after, some- fishermen, having caught a fish of an extraordinary size, made a present of to Polycrates. When the fish was opened, the king's ring was found in the belly of it. His surprise was very great, and his joy still greater. When Amasis heard what had happened, he was very differently affected with it. He wrote another letter to Polycrates, telling him, that to avoid the mortification of seeing his friend and ally fall into some grievous calamity, he from that time renounced his friendship and alliance. A strange, whimsical notion! as if friendship was merely a name, or a title destitute of all substance and reality. Be that as it will, the thing did really happen as the Egyptian king appre- hended. Some years aftci', about the time Cambyses fell sick,Oretes, who, as 1 said before, was his governor at Sardis, not being able to bear the reproach which another sairap had cast upon him, in a private quarrel, for his not having yet conquered the isle of Samos, which lay so near his government, and would be so commodious to his master, Oretes, upon this resolved, at any rate, to destroy Polycrates, that he might get possession of the island. The way he took to effect his design was this. He feigned an inclination, upon some pre tended discontent, to revolt from Cambyses, and in order, he said, to secure his treasure and effects, he was determined to deposit them in the hands of Poly- ciates, at the same time to make him a present of one half of them, which would enable him to conquer Ionia and the adjacent islands, a project he had long had in view. Oretes knew the tyrant loved money, and passionately coveted to en- large his dominions. He therefore laid that double bait before him, hy which he equally tempted his avarice and ambition. Potycrates, that he might not rashly engage in an affair of that importance, thought it proper to inform him- self more surely of the truth of the matter, and to that end sent a messenger of his own to Sardis. When he came there, Oretes showed him a vast number of bags full of goid as he said, but in truth filled with stones, and having only the mouth of them covered with gold coin. As soon as he was returned home, Poly* crates, impatient to go and seize his prey, set out for Sardis, contrary to the advice of all his friends, and, and took along with him Democedes, a cele- brated physician of Crotona. Immediately on his arrival, Oretes had him ar- rested, as an enemy to the state, and as such caused him to be hanged. In such Jin ignominious and shameful manner did he end a life, which had been butcne? continued series of prosperity and good fortune.! Cambyses, in the beginning of the eighth year of his reign, left Ea:ypt in order to return into Persia. VVhen he reached Syria, he found a herald there, sent from Susa to the army, to let them know that Smerdis, the son of Cyrus, was proclaimed king, and to command them all to obey him. This event had been brought about in the tollowing manner. Cambyses, at his departure from i^usa on his Egyptian expedition, had lefHhe administration of affairs during •is absence in the hands of Patisithes, one of the chief of the Magi. This t HfMvid \. iii. c VIO -126. HlSTOttY OF SMLR0iS. Patisithes had a brother strongly resembling; Smerdis, the son of Cyrus, and who, perhaps, for that reason was called by "the same name. As soon as Pa- tisithes was fully assured of the death of that prince, which was concealed from the public, knowing, at the same time, that Cambyses indulged his ex- travagance to such a degree, that he was grown insupportable, he placed /.is own brother upon the throne, giving out that he was the true Smerdis, the son of Cyrus ; and immediately despatched heralds into all the parts of the em- pire, to give notice of Smerdis's ai cession, and to require all the subjects tliereof to pay him obedience.* Cambyses caused the herald that came with these orders into Syria to be arrested ; and having strictly examined him in the presence of Prexaspes, who had received orders to kill his brother, he found that the true Smerdis was certainly dead, and he who had usurped the throne was no other thai Smerdis the Magian. Upon this he made great lamentations, that being de- ceived by a dream, and the identity of the names, he had been induced to destroy his own brother ; and immediately gave orders for his army to march and cut off the usurper. But as he w^s mounting his horse for this expedition, his sword slipped out of its scabbard^ and gave him a wound in the thigh, of which he died soon after. The Egyptians remarking, that it was upon the same part of the body where he had wounded their god Apis, looked upon it as a judgment upon him for that sacrilegious impiety.j While he was in Egypt, having consulted the oracle of Butos, which was famous in that country, he w^as told that he should die at Ecbatana ; under- standing this of Ecbatana in Media, he resolved to preserve his life by nevei going thither; but what he thought to avoid in Media, he found in Syria; for the town where he lay sick of this wound was also called Ecbatana. On this being made known to him, taking it for certain that he must die there, he as- sembled the chiefs of the Persians together, and representing to them that" it was Smerdis the Magian who had usurped the throne, earnestly exhorted them not to submit to that impostor, nor to suffer the sovereignty to pass from the Persians again to the Medes, of vs^hich nation the Magian w?.s, but to take care to' set up a kivng over them of their own people. The Persians, thinking he had said all this out of hatred to his brother, paid no regard to it, but upon his death, quietly submitted to him whom they found on the throne, supposing him to be the true Smerdis.J Cambyses reigned seven years and five months. In Scripture he is called ^ Ahasuerus. When he first came to the crown, the enemies of the Jews made their addresses directly to him, desiring him to prevent the b jiiding of theii temple. And their application was not in vain. Indeed, he did not openly revoke the edict of his father Cyrus, perhaps out of some lemains of respect for his memory, but in a great measure frustrated its intent, by the many dis- couragements he laid the Jews under ; so that the work went on very slowl* during his reign. § CHAPTER III. THE HISTORY OF SMIERBIS THE MAGIAN. Thi5 prince is called in Scripture Artaxerxes.'^ A-s ^on as he w^as settled on the throne, by the death of Cambyses,ll the inhabitants of Samaria wrote a letter to him, setting forth w^hat a turbulent, seditious, and rebellious people fhe Jews were. By virtue of this letter, they obtained an order from the kin^, prohibiting the Jews from proceeding any farther in the rebuilding of their city and temple. , So that the Avork was suspended till the second year of Da- rius, for about the space of two years. * Herod. 1. ili. c. t\. i \ Esd. iv 4 6 crod. 1, iii. c. 62 — ^64. J Herod. 1. iii. c. G l — tift. t) A. M. 34m. Anl. J. C. S^2. \ Fsd. iv. 7-l» KIS'j'OKV OF J^WEIiDlS. 3G7 The Magian, sensible how important it was for him that the imposture should •x)t be discovered, affected, according to the custom of the eastern monartlis in those times, never to appear in public, but to live retired in his palace, and there transact all his affairs by the intercourse of his eunuchs, without adn) it- ting any, but his most inti^nate confidants, to his presence. And, the better to secure himself in the possession of the throne he l»3re the people, *^'ho were to be assembled for that purpose, that the king upoh the Vhrone waa truly Smerdis, the son of Cyrus. II When the people were assembled, which was on the very same day, Prex- aspes spoke from the top of a tower, and, to the great astonishment of all pre- serit, sincerely declared all that had passed ; that he had with his own hand killed Smerdis, the son of Cyrus, by order of Cambyses ; that the person wiio now possessed the throne, was Smerdis the Magian ; that he begged pardon of the gods and men for the crime he had committed, by compulsion and against his will. Having said this, he threw himself headlong from the top of the tower, and broke his neck. It is easy to imagine what confusion the nev/s of this accident occasioned in the palace. The conspirators, without knowing any thing of what had happened, were foing to the palace at this juncture, and were suffered to enter unsuiipected . 368 for the,aater guard, knowing them to be persons of the first rank at court, did not so^uch as ask ihem any questions. But coming near the king's apa-rtmei.t, and finding the officers there unwilling to give admittance, they drew their scimitars, fell upon the guards, and forced their passage. Smerdis the Magian and his brother, who were deliberating together upon the affair of Prexaspes hearing a sudden uproar, snatched up their arms, made the best defence they could, and w^ounded some of the conspirators. One of the two brothers being quickly killed, the other fled into a distant room to save himself, but was pur- sued thither by Gobryas and Darius. Gobryas having seized him, held him last in his arms; but, as it was quite dark in that place, Darius was afraid to kill him, lest, at the same time, he should kill his friend. Gobryas, judging what it was that restrained him, obliged him to run hrs sword through the Ma- gian's body, though he should happen to kill them both together, But Darius did it vAih so much dexterity and good fortune, that he killed the Magian with- out hurting his companion.* In the same instant, with their hands all besmeared with blood, they w^ent out of the palace, exposed the heads of the false Smerdis and his brother Pati* sithes to the eyes of the people, and declared the whole imposture. Upon this, the people grew so enraged against the impostors, that they fell upon their whole sect, and slew as many of them as they could find. For this reason, the day on which this was done, became thenceforward an annual festival among the Persians, by whom it was celebrated with great rejoicings. It was called The slaughter of the Magi ; none of that sect venturing to appear in public upon that festi'val.t When the tumult and disorder, inseparable from such an event, were ap- peased, the lords who had slain the usurper entered into consultation among themselves, what sort of government was most proper for them to establish. Otanes, who spoke first, declared directly against monarchy, strongly repre- senting and exaggerating the dangers and inconveniences to which that form of government was liable, chiefly flowing, according to him, from the absolute and unlimited power annexed to it, by which the most virtuous man is almost unavoidably corrupted. He therefore concluded, hj declaring upon a popu- lar government. Megabyzus, who next delivered his opinion, admitting all that the other had said against a monarchial government, confuted his reasons - for a democracy. He represented the people as a violent, fierce, and ungo- vernable animal, that acts only by caprice and passion. "A king," said he, ''knows what he does ; but the people neither know nor hear any thing, and , ^ blindly give themselves up to those who know how to manage them." He therefore declared for an aristocracy, wherein the supreme power is confided to a few wise and experienced persons. Darius, who spoke last, showed the inconveniences of an aristocracy, otherwise called oligarchy, wherein reign dis- trust, envy, dissensions, and ambiti^^n, all natural sources of faction, sedition, and murder, for which there is usually no other remedy than submitting to one man's authority : and this is called monarchy, which of all forms of government is the most commendable, the safest, and the most advantageous ; the good that can be done b)^ a prince, whose power is equal to the goodness of his inclina- tions, being inexpressibly great. " In short," said he, " to determine this point by a fact which to me seems decisive and undeniable, to what form, of govern- ment is the present greatness of the Persian empire owing ? Is it not that which I am now recommending ?" The opinion of Darius was embraced by the rest of the lords, and they resolved, that the monarchy should be continued on the .«ame footing whereon it had been established by Cyrus. The next question was to know, w hich of them should be king, and how they ?[Kmld proceed to the election. This they thought fit to refer to the gods. Accordingly, they agreed to meet the nextmorning, by sun-rise, on horseback, ai a certain place in the suburbs of the city, and he w^hose horse first neighed siiould be king. F or the sun being the chief deity of the Persians, they ima- * Idem o 70 MAiNNEKS OF THE ASSYRIANS. ^* 369 pined, that taking this course would be ^ivinj^ him the honour of tire ehction. rhe groom of Darius, hearing of the agreement, made use of the following artifice to secure the crown to his master. He carried, the night before, a mare into the place appointed for their meeting the next day, and brought to her his master's horse. The lords assembling the next morning at the rendez- vous, no sooner was Darius's horse come to the place where he had smelt the mare, than he began to neigh, whereupon Darius was saluted king by the others, and placed on the throne. He was the son of Hystaspes, a Persian by birth, and of the royal family of Achaimenes.* The Persian empire being thus restored and settled by the wisdom and valour of these seven lords, they were raised by the new king to the highest dignities, and honoured with the most ample privileges. They had access to his person whenever they would, and in all public affairs were the first to deliver their opinions. And whereas the Persians wore their tiara or turban with the top bent backward, except the king, who wore his erect ; these lords had the privi lege of wearing theirs with the top bent forward, because, when they attacked the Magi, they had bent theirs in that manner, the better to know one another in the hurry and confusion. From that time forward the Persian kings of this family always had seven counsellors, honoured with the same privilege.! Here I shall conclude the history of the Persian empire, reserving the ip- mainder of it for the following volumes. . CHAPTER IV. THE MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OT THE ASSY- RIANS, BABYI^ONIANS; IiYDZANS, MEDES AND PERSIANS. I SHALL give, in this place, an account of the manners and customs of these several nations jointly, because they agree in several points ; and if I was to treat them separately, I should be obliged to make frequent repetitions ; besides that, excepting the Persians, the ancient authors say very little of the manners of the other nations. I shall reduce what 1 have to say of them to these four heads . I. Their government. II. Their art of war. III. Their arts and sciences. And, IV. Their religion. After which I shall lay down the causes of the declension and ruin of the great Persian empire. ARTICLE I. OF THEIR GOVERNMENT. After a short account of 'die nature of the government of Persia, and the manner of educating the children of their kings, I shall proceed to consider these four things : their public council, wherein the affairs of state were con- sidered ; the administration of justice ; their care of the provinces ; and the good order observed in their revenues. SECTION I. THEIR MONARCHIAL FORM 0F GOVERNMENT. THE RESPECT THEV PAID TO THEIR KINGS. THE MANNER OF EDUCATING THEIR CHILDREN.^ MoNARCHiAL, or regal government, as we call it, is of all others the mcit hncient, the most universal, the best adapted to keep the people in peace a n] union, and the least exposed to the revoluiions and vicissitudes incident ic * Hftrod 1. iii. c. 24--8' Vol I. 370 MANNERS OF THE states. For these reasons, the wisest writers among the ancients, as Plato, Arui- totle, Plutarch, and, especially Herodotus, have thought fit to prefer this form of government to all others. It is likewise the only form that ever was estab- lished among the eastern nations, a republican government being utterly un- known in that part of the world. Those pe 3ple paid extraordinary honours to the prince on the throne, because in his person they respected the character of the Deity, whose image and vice* gerent he was with regard to them, being placed on the throne by the hand* of the Supreme Governor of the world, and clothed with his authority and power, in order to be the minister of his providence, and the dispenser of his goodness towards the people.* In this manner did the pagans themselves in old times both think and speak : Principem dat Deus, qui erga omne hominum genus vice sua fungatur,] These sentiments are very laudable and just. For certainly the most pro- found respect and reverence are due to the supreme power, because it cometh from God, and is entirely appointed for the good of the public : besides, it is evident, that an authority not respected according to the full extent of its com- mission, must thereby either become useless, or at least very much limited in the good effects which ought to flow from it. But in the times of paganism, these honours and homages, though just and reasonable in themselves, were often carried too far ; the Christian being the only religion that has known how to keep within bounds in that particular. We honour the emperor, said Ter- tullian in the name of all the Christians ; but in such a manner, as is lawful for us, and proper for him ; that is, as a man, who is next after God in rank and authority, from whom he has received all that he is, and whatever he has, and who knows no superior but God alone. J For this reason he calls, in another place, the emperor a second majesty, inferior to nothing but the first : Religio secundce majestatis,^ Among the Assyrians, and more particularly among the Persians, the prince ased to be styled, " The great king, the king of kings." Two reasons might induce those princes to take that ostentatious title. The one, because their empire was formed of many conquered kingdoms, all united under one head ; the other, because they had several kings, their vassals, either in their court, oi dependent upon them. The crown was hereditary among them, descending from father to son, and generally to the oldest. When an heir to the crown was born, all the em- pire testified their joy by sacrifices, feasts, and all manner of publTc rejoicing ; and his birth-day was thenceforward an annual festival and day of soluminiy for ail the Persians. || The manner of educating the future master of the empire is admired by Plato, and recommended to the Greeks as a perfect model for a prince's education. He was never wholly committed to the care of the nurse, who generally was a woman of mean and low condition : but from among the eunuchs, that is, the chief officers of the household, some of the most approved merit and probity were chosen, to take care of the young prince's person and health, till he was seven years of age, and to begin to form his manners and behaviour. He was dien taken from them, and put into the hands of other masters, who were to continue the care of his education, to teach him to ride as soon as his strength would permit, and to exercise him in hunting. At fourteen years of age, when the mind begins to attain some maturity, four W the wisest and most virtuous men of the state were appointed to be his pre- ceptors. The first, says Plato, taught him magic, that is, in their lane:uage, ihe worship of the gods according to their ancient maxims, and the law oi Zo- /oaster, the son of Oromasdes ; he also instructed him in the principles of go- * Plut. in Themist. p. 125. ad Princ. indoc. p. 780. | Plln. la Paneg. Traj. X Col'imiiB Imneratorem, iic, quomodo et nobis licet, et ipsi expedit ; ut hominem a Deo lecuodum, et ^uMquid •tU^ Peo consecuturo, ct mIo Deo minorem.— TertuK L. Scap. k Apolof . e. i. p 9& n Plut. in A]cib. c. i p. 121. PlMt. ia AI«ib. c. \ p, 131 A8SY11IANS, Sec. femment. The second was to accustom him to speak truth, and toadmini^tei justxe. The third was to teach him not to he overcome hy pleasures, that he mig;ht he truly a king, and always free, master of himself and his desires. The fourth was to fortity him against fear, which would have made him a slave, and to inspire him with a noble and prudent assurance, so necessary for those that are born to command. Each of these governors excelled in his way, and was eminent in that part of education assigned to him. One was particularly distinguished for his knowledge in religion, and the art of governing : another for his love of truth and justice ; this for his moderation and absunence from pleasures, that for a superior strength of mind and uncommon intrepidity. I do not know, whether such a diversity of masters, who, without doubt, were of different tempers, and perhaps had different interests in view was proper to answer the end proposed ; or whether it was possible, that four men should agree together in the same principles, and harmoniously pursue the same end. Probably, the reason of having so many was, that they apprehended it im- possible to find anyone person possessed of all the qualities they judged ne- cessary for giving a right education to the presumptive heir of the crown ; so great an idea had they, even in those corrupt times, of the importance of a prince's education. Be this as it will, all this care, as Plato remarks in the same place, was frus- trated by tlie luxury, pomp, and magnificence with which the young prince was surrounded ; by the numerous train of attendants, that paid him a servile submission ; by all the appurtenances and equipage of a voluptuous and ef- feminate life, in which pleasure, and the inventing of new diversions, seemed to engross all attention : dangers which the most excellent disposition could never surmount. The corrupt manners of the nation, therefore, quickly de- bauched the prince, aiid drew him into the reigning pleasures, against which no education is a sufficient defence. The education here spoken of by Plato, can relate only to the children of Artaxerxes, surnaraed Longimanus, the son and successor of Xerxes, in whose time lived Alcibiades, who is introduced in the dialogue from whence this ob- servation is taken. For Plato, in another passage, whi-ch we shall cite here- after, informs us, that neither Cyrus nor Darius, ever thought of giving the princes, their sons, a good education ; and what we find in history concerning Artaxerxes Longimanus, gives us reason to believe, that he was more careful than his predecessors in the point of educating children, but was not closely imitated in that respect by his successors. SECTION II. — THE PUBLIC COUNCIL, WHEREIN THE AFFAIRS OF STATE WERE COe same in penetration and understanding. But Darius had a different way of thinking, and did nothing without counsel and advice : Morumfaciehat cumta consilio. Secondly, Darius, however absolute he was, and however jealous he might be of his prerogative, did not think he derogated from either, when he instituted that council ; for the council did not at all interfere with the king's authority of ruling and commanding, which always resides in the person of the prince, but was confined entirely to that of reason, which consisted in communicating and imparting their knowledge and experience to the king. He was persuaded that the noblest character of sovereign power, when it is pure, and has neither degenerated from its origin, nor deviate-d from its end, is to govern by the laws : to make them the rule of his will and desire ; and to think nothing allowable for him, which they prohibit.* In the third place, this council, which every where accompanied the king, was a perpetual standing council, consisting of the greatest men, and the best heads in the kingdom; who, under the direction of the sovereign, and always with a dependency upon him, were in a manner the source of public order, and the principle of all the wise regulations and transactions at home and abroad. By this council the king discharged himself of several weighty cares, which must otherwise have overburdened him ; and by them he likewise executed whatever had been resolved on. It w^as by means of this standing council, that the great maxims of the state w^ere preserved ; the knowledge of its ti ue mterest perpetuated; affairs carried on with harmony and order; and innova- tions, errors, and oversights, prevented. For in a public and general Cf'uncil, things are discussed by unsuspected persons ; all the ministers are mutual in- spectors of one another; all their knowledge and experience in public matters are united together ; and they all become equally capable of every part of the administration ; because, though, as to the executive part, they move only in one paiticular sphere of business, yet they are obliged to inform themselves in all affairs relating to the public, that they may be able to deliver their opinions in a judicious manner.. The fourth and last reflection I have to make on this head is, that we find it mentioned in Scripture, that the persons of which this council consisted, wei-e thoroughly acquainted with the customs, laws, maxims, and rights of ths* kingdom- Two things, which, ias the Scripture informs us, were practised by the Per- sians, might very much contribute to instruct the king and his council in the methods of governing with wisdom and prudence. The first was, their having {mblic registers, wherein all the prince's edicts and ordinances, all the privi- eges granted to the public, and all the favours conferred upon particular per- sons, were entered and recorded.! The second was, the annals of the kingaom, • j^ej^QUU-ft te, ct lubjecti tibi, sed queniadmodiim 1p rif^i's, sn t 1 i>4. T 17. «wf! vi 2. ASJiYRIANS. 31) Mi which all the events offonner reigns, all resolutions taken, regulations estab- lished, and services done by particular persons, were exactly entered.* Thesf annals were carefully preserved, and frequently perused both by the kings anO the ministers, that they might acquaint themselves with times Dast : might have a clear and true idea of the state of the kingdom ; avoid an aroiirary, unequal, uncertain conduct ; maintain a uniformity in the course of affairs ; and in short, acquire such light from the perusal of these books, as should qualify them to govern the state with wisdom. SECTION III. — THE ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE. To be king, and to be judge, is but one and the same thing. The throne h but a tribunal, and the sovereign power is the highest authority for adminis- tering justice. "God hath made you king over his people," said the queen of Sheba to Solomon, *' to the end that you should judge them, and rendei justice and judgment unto them." God hath made every thing subject to princes, to put them in a condition of fearing none but him. His design, in making them independent, was to give them the more inviolable attachment to justice. That they might not excuse themselves on pretence of inability, or want of power, he has delegated his whole power unto them ; he has made them masters of all the means requisite for restraining injustice and oppres- sion, that iniquity should tremble in their presence, and be incapable of hurting any person whatever. But what is that justice which God hath put into the hands of kings, and of which he hath made them depositaries ? Surely it is nothing else than order , and order consists in observing a universal equity, and that force msij not usurj) the place of law ; that one man's property be not exposed to the violence of another ; that the common band of society be not broken : that artifice and fraud may not prevail over innocence and simplicity ; that all things may rest in peace under the protection of the laws, and the weakest among the people may find his sanctuary in the public authority. We learn from Josephus, that the kings of Persia used to administer justice in their own persons.! And it was to qualify them for the due discharge of this duty, that care was taken to have them instructed, from their tenderest youth, in the knowledge of the law^s of their country ; and that in their public schools, as we have already mentioned in the history of Cyrus, they were taught equity and justice, in the same manner as rhetoric and philosophy are taught in other places. These are the great and essential duties of the regal dignity. Ihdeed it is roasonable, and absolutely necessary, that the prince be assisted in the execu- tion of that august function, as he is in others : but to be assisted \s not to be deprived, or dispossessed. He continues judge, as long as he continues king Though be communicates his authority, yet does he not resign or divide it. It is therefore absolutely neces'nrj for him to bestow some time upon the study of equity and justice ; not that he need enter into the whole detail of particular laws, but only acquaint hims< If with the principal rules and maxnns of the law of his country, that he may be capable of doing justice, and of sp\iaking wisely upon important points. For this reason, the £ings of Persia nt^ver ascendeiS the throne, till they had been for some time under the care and instruction of the Magi, w^ho were to teach them that science of which they were the only masters and professors, as well as of theology. Now-, since to the sovereign alone is committed the right of administering justice; and since, within his dominions, there is no other power of adminis- tering it, than what is delegated by him ; how greatly does it behoove him to take care into what hands he commits a part of so great a trust ; to know whether those he places so near the throne are worthy to partake of such a pre- rogative ; and strictly to keep all such at a distance Vrom it, as he judges tia- * F.n<] )o and F.sth. vi. 1 f .A ntifl. Tu«la.i€. 1 vi. c. 3. 374 MANxNKKS OF THE worthy ! We find that in Persia, their kings were extremely careful to have ^'i^ice rendered with integrity and impartiality. One of their royal judges, for so they called them, having suffered himself to be corrupted by bribery, was condemned by Cambyses to be put to death without mercy, and to have his skin put upon the seat where he used to\it and gPve judgment, and where his son, who succeeded him in his office, was to sit, that the very place whence he ffave judgment should remind him of his duty.* Tlieir ordinary judges were taken out of the class of old men, mto which none were admitted til'i the age of fifty years ; so that a man could not exercise the office of a judge before that age, the Persians being of opinion, that too much maturity could not be required in an employment which disposed of the fortunes, reputations, and lives of their fellow-citizens, j Among them, it wa& not lawful either for a private person to put any of hii slaves to death, or for the prince to inflict capital punishment upon any of his subjects for the first offence ; because it might rather be considered as an effect of human weakness and frailty, than of a confirmed malignity of mind. J The Persians thought it reasonable to put the good as well as the evil, the merits of the offender as well as his demerits, into the scales of justice : nor was it just, in their opinion, that one single crime should obliterate all the good actions a man had done during his life. Upon this principle it was that Darius, having condemned a judge to death for some prevarication in his office, and afterwards calling to mind the important services he had rendered both the state and the royal famil}^ revoked the sentence at the very moment in which ^ it was to be executed, § and acknowledged that he had pronounced it with more precipitation than wisdom. || But one important and essential rule which they observed in their judgments, was, in the first place, never to condemn any person without confronting him with his accuser, and without giving him time, ^nd all other means necessary, for defending himself against the articles laid to his charge : and, in the second place, if the person accused was found innocent, to inflict the very same pun- ishment upon the accuser, as the other was to have suffered, had he been found guilty. Artaxerxes gave a fine example of the just rigour which ought to be exercised on such occasions. One of the king's favourites, ambitious of getting a place possessed by one of his best officers, endeavoured to make the king suspect the fidelity of that officer; and to that end, sent informations to court fiill of calumnies against him, persuading himself that the king, from the great credit he had with his majesty, would believe the thing upon his bare word,- without farther examination. For, such is the general character of calumnia- tors. They are afraid of evidence and light ; they make it their business to shut out the innocent from all access to the prince, and thereby put it out of their power to vindicate themselves. The officer was imprisoned ; but he de- sired the king before he was condemned, that his cause might be heard, and his accusers ordered to produce their evidence against him. The king com- plied with his request : and as there was no proof but the letters which his enemy had written against him, he was cleared, and his innocence fully justi- fied by the three commissioners that sat upon his trial. All the king's indig- nation fell upon the perfidious accuser, who had thus attempted to abuse the favour and confidence of his royal master. IT This prince, was very wise, and knew that one of the true signs of a prudent government, was to have the sub- jects stand more in fear of the laws than of informers.*"^ He thought, that to act otherwise, would be a violation of the common rules of natural equity and humanity; itwould be opening a door to envy, hatred, calumny, and revenge ; it would be exposing the honest simplicity of faithful subjects to the malice of detestable informers, and arming these with the sword of public authority :t"^ * Herod. 1. T. c. 25. f Xenoph. Cyrop. 1. i. p. 7. t Herod. 1. i. c. 137. i Herod. 1. vii. c. 194. 11 Fvii cos raxiJTffa auTOJ -n cro(pc6Tfja l^jaa^ihos fT-n, t\vri. 11 Diod. 1. XV. p. 333 — S36. ** Non jam delatores, sed leges liTnentur. — Piia in Paneg. Tr^ tf P-lneep«, qui del»tor«i non cajligat, irrilat. — Suelon. 'a V'it Domit a. ix. ASBYRIANS, &«. 375 in a word, it would divest the throne of the most nobje privilege belonging to It, namely, of being a sanctuary for innocence and justice, against violence and calumny. There is upon record a still more memorable example of firmness and love of justice, in another king of Persia, before Artaxerxes ; in him, I mean, whom the Scripture calls Ahasuerus, and who is thought to be the same as Darius the son of Hystaspes, from whom Haman had, by his earnest solicitations, e)ttorted that fatal edict, which was calculated to exterminate the whole race of the Jews throughout the Persian empire in one day. When God had, by the means of Esther, opened his eyes, he made haste to make amends for his fault, not only by revoking his edict, and inflicting an exemplary punishment upon the im. postor who had deceived him ; but, which is more, by a public acknowledg- ment of his error ; which should be a pattern to all ages, and to all princes, and teach them, that far from debasing their dignity, or weakening their a'lthority thereby they procure them both the more respect. After declaring, that it is but too common for calumniators to impose, by their misrepresentations and craftiness, on the goodness of their princes, whom their natural sincerity induces to judge favourably of others ; he is not ashamed to acknowledge, that he had been so unhappy as to suffer himself to be prejudiced by such means against the Jews, who were his faithful subjects, and the children of the Most High God, through whose goodness he and his ancestors had attained to the throne.* The Persians were not only enemies of injustice, as we have now shown, but also abhbrred lying, which always was deemed among them as a mean and in- famous vice. What they esteemed most pitiful, next to lying, was to live upon trust, cr by borrowing. Such a kind of life seemed to them idle, ignominious, servile, and the more despicable, because it makes people liars.t SECTION IV. — THE CARE OF THE PROVINCES. It seems to be no difficult matter to maintain good order in the metropolis of a kin^^-dom, where the conduct of the magistrates and judges is nearly inspected, and the very sight of the throne is capable of keeping the subjects in awe. The case is otherwise with respect to the provinces, where the distance from the so- vereign, and the hopes of impunity, may occasion many misdemeanours on the part of the magistrates and officers, as well as great licentiousness and disorder on that of the people. In this the Persian policy exerted itself with the great- est care; and we may also say, with the greatest success. The Persian empire was divided into a hundred and twenty-seven govern- mentu.Jthe governors of which were called satraps. Over them were appointed three principal ministers, who inspected their conduct, to whom they gave an account of all the afl*airs of their several provinces, and who were afterwards to make their report of the same to the king. It was Darius the Mede, that is, Cyaxares, or rather Cyrus in the name of his uncle, who put the government of the empire into this excellent method. These satraps were, by the very de sign of their office, each in his respective district, to have the same care and regard for the interests of the people, as for those of the prince : for it was a maxim with Cyrus, that no difference ought to be admitted between these two interests, which are necessarily linked together ; since neither the people can be happy, unless the prince is powerful, and in a condition to defend them; nor the prince truly powerful, unless his people be happy. These satraps being the most considerable persons in the kingdom, Cyrus assigned them certain funds and revenues proportionable to their station, and the importance of their employments. He was willing they should live nobly in their respective provinces, that they might gain the respect of the nobility and common people within their jurisdiction ; and for that reason their retinue, their equipage, and their table, should be answerable to their dignity, yet with* * Esth. c. iii. &c. t Hecod. 1. i. c. 1S8. t Aolben iiitec about th* auaib«r gf jovernmenU or j rovinces.— Xe ooph. Cyrop. 1. riii p. 939,99B 376 MANNERS OF THE out exceeding the bounds of prudence and naode ration. He, himself, was their model in this respect, as he desired they should be to all persons of distin- g'uished rank within the extent of their authority : so that the same order which reigned in the prince's court, might likewise proportionably be observed in the courts of the satraps, and in the noblemen's families. And to prevent, as far as possible, all abuses which might be made of so extensive an authority as that of the satrapsy the king reserved to himself alone the nomination of them, and caused the govcnors of places, the commanders of the troops, and other such 'ike officers, to depend immediately upon the p * ce himself ; from whom alone they were to receive their orders and instructions, that if the satraps were in- clined to abuse their power, they might be sensible those officers wei e so many overseers and censors of their conduct. And, to make this correspondence by letters the more sure and expeditious, the king caused post-houses to be erected throughout all the empire, and appointed couriers, who travelled night and day, and made wonderful despatch. I shall speak more particularly on ihis article at the end of this section, that I may not break in upon the matter in hand. The care of the provinces, however, was not entirely left to the satraps and governors ; the king himself took cognizance of them in his own person, being persuaded, that the governing only by others is but to govern by halves. An officer of the household was ordered to repeat these words to the king every morning when he waked," Rise, Sir, and think of discharging the duties for which Oromasdes has placed you upon the throne."* Oromasdes was the prin- cipal god anciently worshipped by the Persians. A good prince, says Plutarch, in the account he gives of this custom, has no occasion for an officer to give him this daily admonition; his own heart, and the love he has for his people, are sufficient monitors. The kingol Persia thought himself obliged, according to the ancient custom established in that country, from time to time, personally to visit all the pro- vinces of his empire ;t being persuaded, as Pliny says of Trajan, that the most solid giory, and the most exquisite pleasure, a good prince can enjoy, is from time to time to let the people see their common father ; " to reconcile the dis- sensions and mutual animosities of rival cities ; to calm commotions or seditions among the people, and that not so much by the dint of power and severity, as by reason and temper ; to prevent injustice and oppression in magistrates ; and cancel and reverse whatever has been decreed against law and equity : in a word, like a beneficent planet, to shed his salutary influence universally ; or rather like a divinity to be present every where, to see, to hear, and know every - thing, without rejecting any man's petitions or complaint. "J When the king was not able to visit the provinces himself, he sent, in his stead, some of the greatest men of the kingdom, such as were the most eminenf for wisdom and virtue. These persons were generally called the eyes and the ears of the prince, because b}^ their means he saw and was informed of every . thing. When these or any other of his great ministers, or the members of his council, were said to be the eyes and ears of the prince, it was at once an ad- monition to the king, that he had his ministers, as we have the organs of cm senses, not that he .should lie still and be idle, but act by their means ; ancf to the ministers, that they ought not to act for themselves, but for the king their head, and for the advantage of the whole body politic. The particular detail of affairs, which the king, or the commissioners appointed by him, entered into, is highly worthy of admiration, and shows how well they understood in those days wherein the w^isdom and abilit}^ of governors consist. The attention of the king and his ministers was not only employed upon great objects, as war, the revenue, justice, and commerce; but matters ol Jess im * Plut. ad Princ. indoct. p. 780. \ Xenoph. in CEconom. p. 228. X RecoBciliure arnula« civitates, tumentesque populos non imperio ma«^is quam ratione compescere, in' lercedere iniquitatibus majistratuum, infectiimque reddere quicquid fieri non oportuerit : postremo, vela cissimi sideris more, omnia invitere, vmnia audire, «t uad«eumqu« invocatum, itatim, vclut num«B» adesa* et adiittro. — Plin in PancgTf' Traj. ASSYRlAiNS. Ac. 377 portance,as the security and beauty of towns and cities, the convenient dwell- ing of the inhabitants, the preparations of high roads, bridges, causeways, the keeping of woods and forests from being laid waste and destroyed, and, above all, the improvement of agriculture, and the encouraging and promoting of ah sorts of trades, even to the lowest and meanest of handicraft employments ; every thing, in short, came within the sphere of their policy, and was thought to deserve their care and inspection. And indeed, whatever belongs to the sub- jects, as well as the subjects themselves, is a part of the trust committed to the lead of the commonwealth, and is entitled to his care, concern, and activity. His love for the commonwealth is universal. It extends itself to all matters^ and takes in every thing ; it is the support of private persons, as well as of the public* Every province, every city, every family, has a place in his heart and affections. Every thing in the kingdom has a relation to, and concerns him \ every thing challenges his attention and regard. I nave already said, that agriculture was one of the main things on which the Persians bestowed their care and attention. Indeed, one of the prince's first cares was to make husbandry flourish ; and those satraps, whose provinces were the best cultivated, enjoyed the most of his favour. And as there were offices erected for the regulation of the military part of the government, so were there likewise for the inspecting their rural labours and economy. Indeed these two employments had a near relation, the business of the one being to guard the country, and of the other to cultivate it. The prince protected both with almost the same degree of affection, because both concurred, and were equally neces- sary for the public good. Because it the lands cannot be cultivated without the aid and protection of armies for their defence and security ; so neither can the soldiers, on the other hand, be fed and maintained without the labour of the husbandmen, who cultivate the ground. It was with good reason, therefore, that the prince, since it was impossible for himself to see into every thing, caused an exact account to be given him, how every province and canton w^as cultivated ; that he might know whether each country brought forth abundantly such fruits as it was capable of producing ; that he descended so far into those particulars, as Xenophon remarks of Cyrus the younger, as to inform himself, whether the private gardens of his subjects were well kept, and yielded plenty of fruit; that he rewarded the superintendents and overseers, whose provinces or cantons were the best cultivated, and punished the laziness and negligence of those idle persons who did not labour and improve their grounds. Such a care as this is by no means unworthy of a king, as it naturally tends to propa- e:ate riches and plenty throughout his kingdom, and to beget a spirit of indus tiy among his subjects, which is the surest means of preventing that increase of drones and idlers, that are such a burd'^n upon the public, and a dishonour to the state. t Xenophon, in the next passage to this I have now cited, puts into the mouth of Socrates, who is introduced as a speaker, a very noble encomium upon agriculture, which he represents as an employment the most worthy of man, the most ancient, and the most suitable to his nature ; as the common nurse of persons of all ages and conditions of life ; as the source of health, strength, plenty, riches, and a thousand sober delights and honest pleasures ; as the mis- tress and school of sobriety, temperance, justice, religion ; and in a word, of all kinds of virtues, both civil and military. After which he relates the line sayirgof Lysander, the Lacecteemonian, who, as he was walking at Sardis with the younger Cyrus, hearing from that prince's own mouth that he himself had planted several of the trees he was looking at, made the following answer* : that the word had reason to extol the happiness of Cyrus, whose virtue was fes eminent a 5 his fortune, and who in the midst of the greatest affluence, splen- dour, and magnificence, had yet preserved a taste so pure, and so conformable ^^ f.Vi purai sunt universae, nuUam pon reip, partem tanquam sni nutrit. — Scnec. lib. de Clem. c« sia t Xenoph. 'Keoa. p. 32T- 5^^0, 378 MANNEfiS OF THE to right reason.* " C^m Cyrus respondisset, Ego ista sum dimensus, met sunt ordities, mea descriptio, multee etiam istarum arborum mea manu sunt satae ; turn Lysandrum, intuentem ejus purpuram, et nitorem corporis, orna- tumque Persicum multo auro multisque gemmis, dixisse : t^^ECTE vero tk. CyRE, BEATUM FERUNT, QUONI-AM virtuti tuje fortuna conjuncta est."i How much is it to be wished, that our young nobility, who, in the time of peace, do not know how to employ themselves, had the like taste lor planting and agriculture, which surely, after such an example as that of Cyrus, should be thought no dishonour to their quality, especially if they would consider that for several ages, it was the constant employment of the bravest and most warlike people in the world 1 The reader may easily perceive that I mean the ancient Romans, 'i THE INVENTION OF POSTS AND COURIERS. I PROMISED to give some account, in this place, of the invention of posts and couriers. This invention is ascribed to Cyrus ; nor, indeed, can I find any mention of such an establishment before his time. As the Persian empire af- ter its last conquests, was of a vast extent, and Cyrus required that all nis governors of provinces, and the chief commanders of his troops, should write to him, and give an exact account of every thing that passed in their several districts and armies ; in order to render that correspondence the more sure ' and expeditious, and to put himself in a condition of receiving speedy intelli- j gence of all occurrences and affairs, and of sending his orders thereupon with ' expedition, he caused post-houses to be built, and messengers to be appointed in every province. Having computed how far a good horse with a brisk rider, ! could go in a day, without being spoiled, he had stables built in proportion, at | equal distances from each other, and had them furnished with horses, and ■ grooms to take care of them. At each of these places he likewise appointed . a postmaster, to receive the packets from the couriers as they arrived, and ' give them to others ; and to take the horses that had performed their stage, - and to find fresh ones. Thus the post went continually night and day, with 1 extraordinary speed ; nor did either rain or snow, heat or cold, or any incle- j mency of the weather, interrupt its progress.§ Herodotus speaks of the same ] sort of couriers in the reign of Xerxes.il | These couriers were called, in the Persian language, "A77ajoj.ir The super- 5 mtendency of the posts became a considerable employment. Darius, the last J king of the ancient Persians, had it before he came to the crown.** Xenophon | takes notice^, that this establishment subsisted in his time ; which perfectly * agrees with what is related in the book of Esther, concerning the edict pub- lished by Ahasuerus in favour of the Jews ; which edict was carried through that vast empire with a rapidity that wouid have been impossible, without these posts established by Cyrus. People are justly surprised to find, that this establishment of posts anvl cou- riers, first invented in the east by Cyrus, and continued for many ages after- wards by his successors, especiall}^ conside)ring the usefulness of it to a go- vernment, should never have been imitaterf^in the west, particularly by peopla •o expert in politics as the Greeks and Romans. It is more astonishing, that where this invention was put in execution, it waf uot farther improved, and that the use of it was confined only to aflfairs of sts^e. * Xenoph. CEcon. p. 830—833. t In the original Greek there is still a greater energy; Aixaitoj jxoi 5oxe\5, w Ku^ft fO^ai'/iCOvcTvar dyaOil «y6,f i)v dvT)f evdaiiioveTS' Thou art worthy, Cyrus, of that happiness thou art possessed of : because, MritA all thy affluence and prosperity, thou art also virtf'ous. X Cic. de Senect. num. 59. J Xen. Cyrup. 1. viii. p. 232. || Herod. 1. viii. c 98. V "A77ajo» IS derived from a word which, in mat language, signifies a service rendered by compulsion, his from thence the Greeks borrowed their vern tt';'y«f fuf iv, compellere, cogere ; and the Latins, aa^ riare. According to Suidas, they were likewise CHll-^d ustaodfe. Plut. I Fortun. Alex. p. 326. el in vii Aiei p. 674. ubi. pro ' A cr'/avitH. legendum 'A^rdv^nl ASSYRIANS. &6. »\'ithout considering the many advantages trie public might have reaped from it, by facib'tating a mu'^uai correspondence, as well as the business of me^chan^8 and tradesmen of all kinas : oy ihe expedition it would have procured to the affairs of private persons; the despatchof journeys which required haste; the i-rasy communication between families, cities, and provinces; and by the safety and conveniency of remitting money from one country to another. It is well known what difficulty people at a distance had then, and for many ages after- wards, to communicate any news, or to treat of affairs together ; being ooliged either to send a servant on purpose, which could not be done without great charge and loss of time ; or to wait for the departure of some other person, that was going into the province or country whither they had letters to send; which method was liable to numberless disappointments, accidents and delay?. At present we enjoy this general conveniency at a small expence ; but we do net thoroughly consider the advantage of it ; the want thereof would niake us fully sensible of our happiness in this respect. France is indebted for it to the university of Paris, which I cannot forbear observing here : I hope the reader will excuse the digression. The university of Paris, being formerly the only one in the kingdom, and having great numbers of scholars resorting to her from all parts of the country, did, for their sakes and conveniency, establish mes- sengers, whose business was, not only to bring clothes, silver, and gold, for the students, but likewise to carry bags of law proceedings, informations, and in- quests ; to conduct all sorts of persons, indifferently, to or from Paris, finding ihem both horses and diet; as also to carry letters, parcels, and packets, for the public as well as the university. In the university-registers of the four nations, as they are called, of the faculty of arts, these messengers are often styled JVuntii volanteSy to signify the great speed and despatch they were obliged to make. The state, then, is indebted to the university of P^ris for the invention and establishment of these messengers and letter-carriers. And it was at her own charge and expense that she erected these offices, to the satisfaction both of our kings and the public. She has, moreover, maintained and supported Ihem since the 3''ear 1576, against all the various attempts of the farmers, which has cost her immense sums. For there never was any ordinary royal messengers, till Henry III. first established them in the year 1576, by his edict of Novem- ber, appointing them in the same cities as the university had theirs in, and granting them the same rights and privileges as the kings, his predecessors, had granted the messengers of the university. The university never had any other fund or support, than the profits arising from the post-office. And it is upon the foundation of the same revenue, that King Louis XV. by his decree of the council of state, of the 14th of April 1719, and by his letters-patent, bearing the same date, registered in parliament, and in the chamber of accounts, has ordained, that in all the colleges of the said university the stud^^nts shall be tsiu^hi gratis ; and has to that end, for the time to come, appropriated to the university an eight-and twentieth part of the reve Hue arising from the general lease or farm of the posts and messengers of France : which eight and-twentieth part amounted that year to the sum of one hundrea »nd eighty-four thousand livres, or thereabouts.* M is not, therefore, without reason, that the university, to whom this regi^Ia- tion has restored a part of her ancient lustre, regards Louis XV. as a kind of «ew founder, whose bounty has at length delivered her from the unhappy and shamefiil necessity of receiving wages for her labours ; which in some measure dishonoured the dignity of her profession, as it was contrary to that noble, disinterested spirit, which becomes it. And, indeed, the labour of masters and professors, who instruct others, ought not to be given for nothing; but neither ought it to be sold. Aec venire hoc bei^efidum oportet, nec perire,] • About $37,740. f Q^uintil. 1. xii. c. T 3«0 MAI^NERS OF THE SECTION V. — ADMINISTRATION OF THE REVENUES. The princ^ is the sword and buckler of the state ; by him are the p^ac^e and tranquillity thereof secured. But, to enable him to defend it, he has oc- casion for arms, soldiers, arsenals, fortified towns, and ships ; and all these things require great expenses. It is, moreover, just and reasonable, that the king have wherewithal to support the dignity of the crown, and the majesty of empire ; as also to procure reverence and respect to his person and ?u* thority. These are the two principal reasons that have given occasion for the exacting of tribute and the imposition of taxes. As the public advantage, and the necessity of defraying the expenses of the state, have been the first cause of these burdens, so ought they likewise to be the constant standard of their use. Nor is there any thing in the world more just and reasonable than such impositions, since every private person ought to think himself veiy happy, that he can purchase his peace and security at the expense of so slender a contribution. The revenues of the Persian kings consisted partly in moneys imposed upon the people, and partly in their being furnished with several of the products of the earth in kind, as corn and other provisions, forage, horses, camels, or whatever rarities each particular province afforded.* Strabo relates, linat the satrap of Armenia sent regularly every year to the king of Persia, his master, twenty thousand young colts.f By this we may form an estimate of the other levies in the several provinces. But we are to consider, that the tributes were only exacted from the conquered nations ; for the natural subjects, that is, the Persians, were exempt from all impositions. Nor was the custom of im- posing taxes, and determining the sums each province was yearly to pay, in« troduced till the reign of Darius ; at which time the pecuniaiy impositions, as nearly as we can judge from the computation made by Herodotus, which is attended with great difficulties, amounted to nearly forty-four millions, French money .J The place in which the public treasure was kept was called, in the Persian language, Gaza.§ There were treasures of this kind at Susa, at Persepolis, at Pasagarda, at Damascus, and other cities. The gold and silver were there kept in ingots, and coined into money, according as the king had occasion. The money chiefly used by the Persians was of gold> and called Dane, from the name of Darius, || who first caused them to be coined, with his image on one side, and an archer on the reverse. The Daric is sometimes also called Stater Aureus, because the weight of it, like that of the Attic Stater, was two drachms of gold, which were equivalent to twenty drachms of silver, and consequently were wwth ten livres of French money. Besides these tributes, which were paid in money, there was another con- tribution made in kind, by furnishing victuals and provision for the king's ta- ble and household, grain, forage, and other necessaries for the subsistence of his armies, and horses for his cavalry. This contribution was imposed upon (he one hundred and twenty satrapies, or provinces, each of them furnishing such a part as they were severally taxed at. Herodotus observes, that the pro- vince of Babylon, the largest and wealthiest of them all, alone furnished the whole contribution for the space of four months, and consequently bore a third part of the burden of the whole imposition, while the rest of Asia together con- tributed the other two thirds. IF By what has been already said on this subject, we see that the kings of Per- sia did nol exact all their taxes and impositions in money, but were content to levy only a part of them in money, and take the rest in such products and com- ♦ Herod. 1. Hi. c. 89—97. t Herod 1. xi. p. 530. J About $8»880,000. { Curt. 1. iii. c. 12. I Darius tlie Mede, otherwise called Cyaxares, is supposed to have been the first who ca'Jted thii momf Im coined. Value, one dollar, ei<^hly-seven and a half cents. IT Herod. I ill. c. 91—97. et 1. i. c. 193. ASSYRIANS, Slc. 38) Olodilies as the severe provinces afforded ; which is a proot of the great wis- dom, moderation, and humanity of the Persian government. Without doubt, it had been observed how difficult it often is for the people, especially in coun- tries at a distance from commerce, to convert their goods into money, without euffering great losses ; whereas nothing can tend so much to the rendering of taxes easy, and to shelter the people from vexation, trouble, and expense, as taking in payment from each country, such fruits and commodities as that coun- try produces; by which means the contribution becomes easy, natural, and equitable. There were likewise certain cantons assigned and set apart for maintaining the queen's toilet and wardrobe ; one for her girdle, another for her veil, and so on for the rest of her vestments : and these districts, which w^ere of a great extent, since one of them contained as much ground as a man could walk over in a day ; took their names from their particular use, or part of the garments to which they were appropriated ; and were accordingly called, one the Queen's Girdle, another the Queen's Veil, and so on. In Plato's time, the same custom continued among the Persians.* The way in which kings gave pensions in those days to such persons as they had a mind to gratify, was exactly like w^hat I have observed concerning the queens. We read, that the king of Persia assigned the revenue of four cities to Themistocles ; one of which was to supply him with wine, another with bread, the third with meats for his table, and the fourth with his clothes and furniture.t Before that time, Cyrus had acted in the same manner with Py- tharchus of Cyzicus, for whom he had a particular consideration, and to whom he gave the revenues of seven cities. J In following times, we find many instances of a like nature. ARTICLE II. OF THEIR V^^AR. The people of Asia*in general were naturally of a w^arlike disposition, and did not w^ant courage ; but in time they all grew effeminate through luxury and pleasure. When I say all, I must be understood to except the Persians, who, even before Cyrus, as well as in hfs reign, had the reputation of being a people of a very military genius. The situation of their country, which is rugged and mountainous, might be one reason of their hard and frugal manner of living; which is a thing of no little importance for the forming of good soldiers. Bui the good education which the Persians gave their youth, was the chief cause of the courage and martial spirit of that people. With respect, therefore to the manners, and pauxularly to the article which I am now treating of, we must make some distinction between the different na- tions of Asia. So that in the following account of military affairs, what perfec- tion and excellence appear in the rules and principles of w^ar, is to be applied only to the Persians, as they were in the reign of Cyrus ; the rest belongs tc the other nations of Asia, the Assyrians, Babylonians, Medes, Lydians, and to the Pereians likewise, after they had degenerated from their ancient valour, «hich happened not long after Cyrus, as will be shown in the sequel. I. THEIR ENTERING INTO THE SERVICE, OR INTO MILITARY DISCIPLINE. The Persians were trained up to the service from their tender years, by passiu^ thicugh different exercises. § Generally speaking, they served in the armies', from the age of twenty to 'fifty years. And whether they were in peace or war, they always wore swords as our gentlemen do, which was never practised among the Greeks or the Romans. They were obliged to enlist themselves at (he time appointed ; and it was esteemed a crime to desire to be dispensed with • Ffcrt. it Alcib. c. i. p. 123. t Plut. in Them. p. 127. ^ Athen. Li p. 30 ^ Stxab. 1. XV-. p. 734. Ain. Mar. 1 xxiii. sub. finem MANNERS OF TBE m that respect, as will be seen hereafter, by the cruel treatment given by Dariu* and Xerxes to two young noblemen, whose fathers had desired, as a favour^ that their sons might bo permitted to stay at home, for a comfort to them in their old age.* Herodotus speaks of a body of troops appointed to be the king's guard, which were called Immortal, because this body, which consisted of ten thousand, perpetually subsisted, and was always complete ; for as soon as any of the men died, another was immediately put into his place. t The establishment of this body probably began with the ten thousand men sent for by Cyrus out of Per- sia to be his guard. They were distinguished from all the other troops hj the nchness of their armour, and still more by their singular courage. Qiiint js Curtius also mentions this body of men, and likewise another body consisting ot fifteen thousand, designed in like manner to be a guard to the king's person • the latter were called doryphori, or lancers.J II. THEIR ARMOUR. The oidinary arms of the Persians were a sabre, or scimitar, acinaces^ as it it called in Latin ; a kind of a dagger, which hung in their belt on the right s)tie ; a javelin, or half-pike, having a sharp pointed iron at the end. It seems that they carried two javelins, or lances, one to throw, and the other tr» fight with. They made great use of the bow, and of the quiver in which tliey carried their arrows. The sling was not unknown among them ; but they dfd not set much value upon it. It appears trom several passages in ancient authors, that the Persians wore Tifj helmets, but only their common caps, which they called tiaras ; this is par- ticularly said of Cyrus the younger, and his army.§ And yet the same authors, ih other places, make menticn of their helmets ; from whence we must con- clude, that their custom had cnanged according to the times. The foot for the most part wore cuirasses made of brass, which were so art- [uliy fitted to their bodies, that they were no impediment to the motion and agility of their limbs ; no more than the vambraces, or other pieces of armour, whicft covered the arms, thighs, and legs of the horsemen. Their horses them- selves for the most part had their faces, breasts, and flanks, covered with brass. These are what are called egui cataphracii, barbed horses. Authors differ very much about the form and fashion of their shields. At first they used very small and light ones ; made only of twigs of osier, ^crra. But it appear? from several passages, that they had also shields of brass, which were of a great length. We have already observed, that in the first ages the light-armed soldiers^ that is, the archers, slingers, &;c. composed the bulk of the armies among the Persians and Medes. Cyrus, who had found by experience, that such troops were only fit for skirmishing, or fighting at a distance, and who thought it most advantageous to come directly to close fight, made a change in his army, and reduced those light-armed troops to a very few, arming the far greater number at all points, like the rest of the army. III. CHARIOTS ARMED WITH SCYTHES. Cyrus introduced a considerable change likewise with respect to the chariots of war.ll These had been in use a long while before his time, as appears both from Homer and the sacred writings. These chariots had only two wheels, and were generally drawn by four horses abreast, with two men in each ; one of distinguished birth and valour, who fought, and the other only for driving the chariot. Cyrus thought this method, which was very expensive, was hut of little servic3: since, for the equipping of thiee hundred chariots, w^ere re- quired twelve hundred horses and six hundred men, of which there were Dut • Herod. 1. iv* ct vi. Sen. de Ira, I. iii. c. 16, 17. \ H«rod. 1. vii. c. 83. J Herod. 1. c. 3 5 Dc Exped. Cyr. 1. i. p. 262. I| Xenoph. Cyrop. 1. vi. p. 152. ASSYRIANS, &e. 383 Chree hundred who really fought, the other three hundred, though alJ men of merit and distinction, and capable of doing great service if otherwise employed, serving only as charioteers or drivers. To remedy this inconvenience, he al- tered the form of the chariots and doubled the number of the fighting men that rode in them, by putting the drivers in a condition to fight, as well as the others. He caused the wheels of the chariots to be made stronger, that they should not be so easily broken ; and their axle-trees to be made longer, to make them the more firm and steady. At each end of the axle-tree he caused scythes to be fastened that were three feet long, and placed horizontally ; and caused other scythes to be fixed under the same axle-tree with their edges turned to the ground, that they might cut in pieces men or horses, or whatever the im- petuous violence of Ine chariots should overturn. It appears from several pas- sages in authors, that in after-times, besides all this, they added two long iroa spikes at the end of the pole, in order to pierce whatever came in the way : and tiiat they armed the hinder part of the chariot with several rows of sharp knives, to hinder any one from mounting behind.* These chariots were in use for many ages in all the eastern countries. They were looked upon as the principal strength of the armies, as the most certain causes of victory, and as an apparatus the most capable of all others to striKe the enemy with consternation and terror. But in proportion as the military art improved, the inconveniences of them were discovered, and at length they were laid aside. For, to reap any advan- tage from them, it was necessary to fight in large plains, where the soil was very even, and where there were no rivulets, gullies, woods, nor vineyards. In after-times several methods were invented to render these charic 's abso- lutely useless. It was enough to cut a ditch in their way, which immediately stopped their course. Sometimes an able and experienced general, as Eume- nes in the battle which Scipio fought with Antiochus, would attack the chariots with a detachment of slingers, archers, and spearmen, who, spreading them selves on all sides, would pour such a storm of stones, arrows, and lances, upon them, and at the same time begin shouting so loud with the whole army, that they terrified the horses, and occasioned such disorder and confusion, as often made them turn upon their own forces.! At other times they would render the chariots ineffectual and inactive, only by marching over the space which separated the two armies, with an extraordinary swiftness, and advancing sud- denly upon the enemy. For the strength and execution of the chariots pro ceeded from the length of their course, which was what gave that impetuosity and rapidity to their motion, without which they were but very feeble and in- significant. It was after this manner that the Romans under Sylla, at the battle of Chaeronea, defeated and put lo flight the enemy's chariots, by raising loud peals of laughter, as if they had been at the games of the circus, and by ciy ing out to them to send more.J IV. THEIR DISCIPLINE IN PEACE AS WELL AS IN WAR. NorHiNG can be imagined more perfect, than the discipline and good order ^f the troops in Cyrus's reign, whether in peace or war. The methods used by that great prince, as is fully related in Xenophon's Cyropcfidia, in order to form his troops by frequent exercises, to inure them to fatigue, by keeping them continually active and employed in laborious works, lo prepare them for real battle by mock engagements, to fire them with courage and resolution by exhortations, praises, and rewards, all present a perfect model for those who have the command of troops, to whom, generally speaking, peace and tranquillity become extremely pernicious ; for a relaxation of discipline, which usually ensues, enervates the vigour of the soldiers ; and their inaction blunts that edge of courage, whirb the motion of armies, and the approach of * Lit. 1. >\xvil n. 41. t Ibid- t Plut. »n SylU p. 463. 384 MAiNNERS OF THE enemies, greatly sharpen and excite. A prjdent foresight ought to make ua ^prepare in tinae of peace whatever will be needful in time of war.* Whenever the Persian armies marched, every thing was ordered and carried on with as much regularity and exactness as on a day of battle ; not a soldier or officer daring to quit his rank, or remove from the colours. It was the cus- tom among all Asiatics, whenever the^^, encamped, though but for a day or a night, to have their camp surrounded with pretty deep ditches. This they did to prevent being surprised by the enemy, and that they might not be forced to engage against their inclinations. They usually contented themselves with covering their camp with a bank of earth dug out of these ditches ; though sometimes they fortified them with strong palisadoes, and long stakes drivet into the ground.! By what has been said of their discipline in time of peace, and of their man- ner of marching and encamping their armies, we may judge of their exactness on a day of battle. Nothing can be more wonderful than the accounts we have of it in several parts of the Cyropaedia. No single family could be better regu- lated, or pay a more ready and exact obedience to the first signal, than the whole army of Cyrus. He had long accustomed them to that prompt obe- dience, on which the success of all enterprises depends, l or what avails the best head in the world, if the arms do not act conformably, and follow its di- rections? At first he had used some severity, which is necessary in the begin- ning, in order to establish a good discipline ; but this severity was always ac- companied with reason, and tempered with kindness. The example oi their leader, who was the first upon all duty, gave weight and authority to his dis- course, and softened the rigour of his commands.J The unalterable rule he laid down to himself, of granting nothing but to merit only, and of refusing every thing to favour, was a sure means of keeping all the officers attached to their duty, and of making them perpetually vigilant and careful. For there is nothing more discouraging to persons of that profession, even to those who love their prince and their country, than to see the rewards to which the dan- gers they have undergone, and the blood they have spilt, entitle them, confer- red upon others. § Cyrus had the art of inspiring even his common soldiers with a zeal for discipline and order, by first inspiring them with a love of their coun- try, for their honour, and iheir fellow-citizens ; and above all, by endearing nimself to them by his bounty and liberality. These are the true methods of establishing and supporting military discipline in full force and vigour. V. THEIR ORDER OF BATTLE. As there were but very few fortified places in Cyrus's time, all their wars were little else than field expeditions ; for which reason that wise prince found out, by his own reflection and experience, that nothing contributed more to victoiy than a numerous and good cavalry ; and that the gaining of a single pitched battle was often attended with the conquest of a whole kingdom. Ac cordingly we see, that having found the Persian army entirely destitute of that important and necessary succour, he turned all his thoughts towards remedying the defect, and so far succeeded, by his great application and activity, as to form a body of Persian cavalry, which became superior to that of his enemies, in goodness at* least, if not in number. There were several breeds of horses h Persia and Media : but in the latter province, those of a place called Nisea were the most esteemed ; and it was from thence the king's stable was furnished -U We shall now examine what use they made of their cavalry and infantij. ♦ Metuensque futuri. In pace, ut sapiens, aptarjt idonea bello. — Hor. Satyr, ii. 1, 2. t Diod. 1. i. p. 24, 25. X DnK, cultu levi, c^pite intecto, in aepiine, in laboribus frequens adeue : laudem strenuii, solatimn la ralidi<<, exemplum omnibus ostendere. — Tacit. Annal. 1. xiii. c. 35. S Cccidisse in irritum laborer, si prasmia periculorum soli assequantur, qui pcrisiilis non affuerunt— Tacif Vnt M*». lu. aap. M. U Herod. 1. rr. c. 40 Simh. I. xi. f . MO. AJi*SYUIAN!5. The celebrated battle of Thymbra may Perve to give us a just notion of the teictics of the ancients in the days of Cyrus, and to show how fur their ability extended, either in the use of arms or dispositimi of armies. They knew, that the most advantageous order of battle was to place the in- (antiy in the centre, and the cavalry, which consisted chiefly of the cuirassiers, on the two wings of the army. By this disposition the flanKs of the foot were covered, and the horse were at liberty to act and extend themselves, as occa •ion should require. They likewise understood the necessity of drawing out an army into several lines, iu order to support one another ; because otherwise, as one sii-eie line might easily be pierced through and broken, it would not be able to rally, and consequently the army would be left without resource. For which reason, they formed the first line of toot, heavily armed, twelve men deep,* who, on the first onspit, made use ol the half-pike ; and afterwards, when the fronts of the two armies ci me close together, engaged the enemy hand to hand with their swords, or scimitars. The second line consisted of such men as were lightly armed, whose manner of fighting was to throw their javelins over the heads of the first. These ja- velins were made of a heavy wood, pointed with iron, and were thrown with great vio ence. The design of them was to put the enemy into disorder, before they carr.e to close fight. The third line consisted of archers, whose bows being bent with die utmost force, carried their arrows over the heads of the two preceding lines, and ex- tremely annoyed the enemy. These archers were sometimes mixed with slingers, who slung great stones with a terrible force; but, in aftertimes, the Khodians, instead of stones, made use of leaden bullets, which the slings car- ried a great deal farther. A fourth line, formed of men in the same manner as those of the first, formed the rear of the main body. This line w^as intended for the support of the others, and to keep them to their duty, in case they gave w^ay. It served likewise for a rear-guard, and a body of reserve to repulse the enemy, if they should hap- pen to penetrate so far. They had, besides, moving towers, carried upon huge wagons, drawn by sixteen oxen each, in which were twenty men, whose business was to discharge stones and javelins. These were placed in the rear of the whole army, be- hind the body of reserve, and were used to support their troops when they were driven back by the enemy, and to favour their rallying when in disorder. They made great use, too, of their chariots armed with scythes, as we have already observed. These they generally placed in the front of the battle, and some of them at certain times upon the flanks of the army, or when they had an 7 reason to fear their being surrounded. Thu ^ far, and not much farther, did the ancients carry their knowledge in the mil tary art, with respect to their baldes and engagements. But we do not find that they had any skill in choosing advantageous posts, in seasonably possesshig themselves of a favourable spot, or bringing the war into a close country; of making use of defiles and narrow passes, either to molest the en- emy in their march, or to cover themselves from their attacks ; of laying art- ful ambuscades ; of protracting a campaign to a great length by wise delays ; of not suffering a superior enemy to force them to a decisive action, and of re- ducing him to the Necessity of preying upon himself through the want of forage and provisions. Neither do w^e see that they had much regard to the defend- ing of their right and left with rivers, marshes, or mountains, and by that means to make the front of a smaller army equal to that of another much more nu- merous, and to put it out of the enemy's power to surround or flank them. Yet, in Cyus s first campaign against the Armenians, and afterwards against the Babylonians, they seemed to have made their first advances and essays Vol. 1. < B. f Pf Cyrus's fim» wa? t\e*?nly -four men 17 S86 MA?^^ERS OF THE in this art ; but they were not improved, or carried A) any degree ot per fection in those days. Time, reflection, and experience, made the great aommanders in after ages acquainted with these precautions and subtleties of war ; and we have already shown, in the wars of the Carthaginians, what use Hannibal, Fabius, Scipio, and other generals of both nations, made of them Vf. THEIR MANNER OF ATTACKING AND DEFENDING STRONG PLACES. The ancients both devised and executed all that could be expected from th- nature of the arms known in their days, as also from the force and variety of engines then in use, either for attacking or defending fortified places. 1. THEIR WAY OF ATTACKING PLACES. The first method of attacking a place was by blockade. They invested the town with a wall built quite round it, and in which, at proper distances, were made redoubts and magazines ; and between the wall and the town they dug a deep trench, which they strongly fenced with pallisadoes, to hinder the be- sieged from going out, as w^ell as to prevent succours or provisions from being brought in. In this manner they waited till famine did what they could not ef- fect by force or art. From hence proceeded the length of the sieges related by the ancients ; as that of Troy,* which lasted ten years ; that of Azoth by Psammeticus, which lasted twenty ; that of Nineveh, where we find Sardana- palus defended himself for the space of seven. And Cyrus might have lain p long time before Babylon, where a stock of provisions for twenty years had been laid in, if he had not devised a different method of taking it. As they found blockades extremely tedious from their duration, they invented the method of scaling, which was done by raising a great number of ladders against the walls, by means of which a great many files of soldiers might climb up together, and force their way in. To render this method of scaling impracticable, or at least ineffectual, they made the walls of their cities extremely high, and the towers, wherewith they were flanked, still considerably higher, that the ladders of the besiegers might not be able to reach the top of them. This obliged them to find out some other way of getting to the top of the ramparts ; and this was, building moveable tow ersof wood, still higher than the walls, and by approaching them with these wooden towers. On the top of these towers, which formed a kind of platform, was placed a competent number of soldiers, who with darts and arrows, and the assistance of their balistae and catapultae, scoured the ramparts^ and cleared them of the defenders ; and then, from a lower stage of the tower, they let down a kind of draw-bridge, which rested upon the wall, and gave the solaiers admittaiice. A third method, which extremely shortened the length of their sieges, was that of the battering-ram, by which they made breaches in the walls, and opened themselves a passage into the places besieged. This battering-ram was a vast thick beam of timber, with a strong head of iron or brass at the end of it, which was pushed with the utmost force against the walls. There were several kinds erf" them ; but I shall give a more ample and particular account of these, as weA as other war-like engines, in another place. They had still a fourth method of attacking places, which was, that of sap- ping and undermining ; and this was done two different ways, that is, either to cany a subterranean path quite under the walls, into the heart of the city, and so open themselves a passage and entrance into it ; or else, after they had gapped the foundation of the wall, and put supporters under it, to fill the space witn all sorts of combustible matter, and then to set that matter on fire, in ordei to bum down the supporters, calcine the materials of the wall, and throw down part of it. ♦ ' '( I. H i ll 5 r?'« inri)tion of the battering ram, or aoy warlike eng^iM. ASSYRIANS. &r. J. THE.A MANNER OF DEFENDING PLACES. With respect to the forlifying and defending of towns, the ancients .naJe use '^f all the fundamental principles and essential rule3 now practised in the art of fortification. They had the method of overflowing the country round about, to hinder the enemy's approaching the town ; they made their ditches deep, and of a steep ascent, and fenced them round with pallisadoes, to make the enemy's ascent or descent the more difficult ; they made their ramparts very thicK, and fenced them with stone or brick-work, that the battering-ram should Rot be able to demolish them ; and very high, that th^ scaling of them should be e^qually impracticable ; they had their projecting towers, from whence our modern liiastions derive their origin, for the flanking of the curtains ; they in- geniously invented different machines for shooting arrows, throwing darts and lances, and hurling gieat stones with vast force and violence ; they bad para- pets and battlements in the walls for the security of the soldiers, and covered g^alleries, which, going quite round the walls, served as subterraneous passages ; they had intrenchments behind the breaches and necks of the towers ; they made their sallies, too, in order to destroy the works of the besiegers, and to set their engines on fire ; as also counter-mines to defeat the mines of the enemy ; and lastly, they built citadels, as places of retreat in case of extremit}^ to serve as the last recourse to a garrison upofl the point of being forced, -^.nd to make the taking of the town of no effect, or at least to obtain a more ad- vantageous capitulation. All these methods of defending places against those that besieged them, were known in the art of fortification, as it was practised among the ancients ; and they are the very same as are now in use among the moderns, allowing for such alteration as the difference of arms has occasi|)ned. I thought it necessary to enter into this detail, in order to give the reader an idea of the ancient manner of defending fortified towns, as also to remove a pre- judice which prevails among many of the moderns, who imagine, that, because new names are now given to the same things, the things themselves are there- fore different in nature and principle. Since the invention of gun-powder, can- non indeed have been substituted in the place of the battering-ram, and musket- shot instead of balistae, catapultae, scorpions, javelins, slings, and arrows. But does it therefore follow, that any of the fundamental rules of fortification are changed ? By no means. The ancients made as much use of the solidity of bodies, and the mechanic powers of motion, as art and ingenuity would admit. VII. THE CONDITION OF THE PERSIAN FORCES AFTER THE TIME OF Ci^RUS. I HAVE already observed, more than once, that we must not judge of the merit and courage of the Persian troops at all times, by what we see of them in Cyrus's reign. I shall conclude this article. of war with a judicious reflection made by Monsieur Bossuet, bishop of Meaux, on that subject. He observes, that after the death of that prince, the Persians, generally speaking, were igno- rant of the great advantages which result from severity, order, and discipline ; from skill in drawing up an army, order in marching and encamping, and that happiness of conduct which moves those great bodies without disorder or confu- sion. Full of a vain ostentation of their power and greatness, and relying more upon strength than prudence, upon the number rather than the choice of their troops, they thought they had done all that was necessary, when they had drawn together immense numbers of people, who fought indeed with resolution but without order, and who found themselves encumbered with the vast malti tudesof useless persons in the retinue of the king and his chief officers. For to luch a height was their luxury grown, that they would have the same mag- nificence, and enjoy the same pleasures and delights, in the army, as in t&» king's court ; so that in their wars, the kings marched accompanied with tVieir wives, their concubines, and all their eunuchs. Their silver and gold plate, and all their rich furniture, were carried after them in prodigious quantities ; and in short, all the equipage and utensils required in so voluptuous a life. A« MAiNiNERS OF THE army composed in this manner, and already clogged with the excessjre numbet of troops, had the additional load of vast multitudes of such as did not fight. In this confusion, the troops could not act in concert ; their orders never reached them in time ; and in action, every thing went on at random, as it were, without the possibility of any commander's preventing disorder. Add to this, the ne cessity they were under of finishing an expedition quickly, and of passing into an enemy's country with great rapidity : because such a vast body of peopie, gre'Bdy not only of the necessaries of life, but of such things also as were requisite for luxury and pleasure, consumed all that could be met with in a very short time ; nor indeed is it easy to comprehend from whence they could procure subsistence. With all this vast train, however, the Persians astonished those nations that were not more expert in military affairs than themselves ; and many of those that even excelled them, were yet overcome, being either weakened or dis- tressed by their own divisions, or overpowered by the enemy's numbers. By this means Egypt, as proud as she was of her antiquity, her wise institutions, and the conquests of her Sesostris, became subject to the Persians. Nor was it difficult for them to conquer Lesser Asia, and such Greek colonies as tlie luxury of Egypt had corrupted. But when they came to engage with Greece itself, they xbund what they had never met with before, regular and well-dis- cjplined troops, skilful and experienced commanders, soldiers accustomed to temperance, whose bodies were inured to toil and labour, and rendered both robust and active by wrestling and other exercises practised in that country. The Grecian armies, indeed, were but small ; but they were like those strong, vigorous bodies, that seem to be all nerves and sinews, and full of spirits in every part ; at the same time they were so well commanded, and so prompt m obeying the orders of their generals, that it seemed as if all the soldiers had been actuated by one soul, so perfect a harmony was there in all their motions. ARTICLE III. ARTS AND SCIENCES. I DO not pretend to give an account of the eastern poetry, of which we know little more than what we find in the books of the old Testament. Those pre- cious fragments are sufficient to let us know the origin of poesy, its true design, the use that was made of it by those inspired writers, namely, to celebrate the perfection, and sing the wonderful works of God, as also the dignity and sub- ^ limity of style which ought to accompany it, adapted to the majesty of the subject it treats. The discourses of Job's friends, who lived in the east, as he himself did, and who were distinguished among the Gentiles as much by their learning as their birth, may likewise give us some notion of eastern eloquence in those early ages. What the Egyptian priests said of the Greeks in general, and of the Athenians m particular, according to Plato,* that they were but children in antiquity, is very true with respect to arts and sciences, of which they have falsely ascribed the invention to chimerical persons, long posterior to the deluge. The holy Scriptures inform us, that before that epoch, God had discovered to mankind the art of tilling and cultivating the ground ; of feeding their flocks and cattle, when their habitation was in tents ; of spinning wool and flax, and weaving it fito stuffs and linen ; of forging and polishing iron and brass, and putting them o numberless uses, that are necessary and convenient for life and society.! We learn from the same Scriptures; that, very soon after the deluge, human fidustiy had made several discoveries very worthy of admiration ; as, 1. The irt of spinning gold thread, and of interweaving it with stuffs. 2. That of beat- gold, and with light thin leaves of it, to gfld wood and other materials. 3. The secret of casting metals, as brass, silver, or gold, and of making all sortf • In TimsKO, p. 22. \ Gen. ti. ASSYRIANS. &c 383 uf ngures with ihem in imitation of nature ; of representing different kinda of ob- jects, and of making an infinite variety of vessels of those metals, for use an J ornament. 4. The art of painting, or carving upon wood, stone, or marble : arid 5. To name no more, that of dying their silks and stuffs, and giving them the most exquisite and beautiful colours. As it was in Asia that men first settled after the deluge, it is easy to con ceive that Asia must have been the nurse, as it were, of arts and sciences, the remembrance of which had been preserved by tradition, and which were af- terwards revived and restored, by means of men's v/ants a*nd necessities, which put them upon all methods of industry and application. SECTION I. — ARCHITECTURE, The building of the tower of Babel, and shortly after, cf those famous cities. Babylon and Nineveh, which have been looked upon as prodigies ; the gt an- deur and magnificence of royal and other palaces, divided into numerous liaiis and apartments, and adorned with every thing that either decency or convc- niency could require ; the regularity and symmetry of the pillars and vaul ted roofs, raised and multiplied one upon another ; the noble gates of their cities . the breadth and thickness of their ramparts ; the height and strength of their towers, their large and commodious quays on the banks of their great rivers , and their curious bold bridges built over them ; all these things, I say, with many other works of the like nature, show to what a degree of perfection ai chi- tecture was carried in those ancient times. Yet I cannot say, whether, in those ages, this art arose to that degree of pe] - fection which it afterwards attained in Greece and Italy ; or whether thost vast structures in Asia and Egypt, so much boasted of by the ancients, v^ere as remarkable for their beauty and regularity, as they were for their magni- tude and spaciousness. We hear of five orders in architecture, the Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite : but we never hear gf an Asiatic or Egyptian order, which gives us reason to doubt whether symmetry, measures, and proportion of pillars, pilasters, and other ornaments in architecture, were exactly observed in those ancient structures. SECTION II. — MUSIC. It is no wonder, if in a country like Asia, addicted to voluptuous and luxu rious living, music, w^hich is in a manner the soul of such enjoyments, w^as in high esteem, and cultivated with great application. The very names of the principal styles of ancient music, which the modern has still preserved, name- ly, the Doric, Phrygian, Lydian, Ionian, and ^olian, sufficiently indicate the place \^'tlere it had its origin, or at least, where it was improved and broijo ht to perfection. We learn from holy Scripture, that in Laban's time, instru- mental music was much in use in the country where he dwelt, that is, in Meso- potamia ; since, among the other reproaches he makes to his son-in-law Jacob, he complains, that by his precipitate flight, he had put it out of his power to conduct him and his family, " with mirth and with song, with tabret and with harp."* Among the booty that Cyrus had ordered to be set apart for his uncie Cyaxares, mention is made of two famous female musicians,! very skilful in their profession, who accompanied a lady of Susa. and were taken prisoners with her.J To determine what degree of perfection music w^as carried to by the an- cients, is a question which very much puzzles the learned. It is the more difficult to be decided, because, to determine justly upon it, it seems necessa- ry we should have several pieces of music composed by the ancients, with Hieir notes, that we might examine both with our eyes and our ears. But unhap- pily, it is not with music, in this respect, as with ancient sculpture and poetry. o( vrhich we liave so many noble monuments remaining ; wliereas, on the con- • Gf.a. vxxi. X Cyrop.l. IV p. I? 390 MANNERS OF THK irary^ we have not any one piece of their composition h the other science, by which we can form a certain judgment of it, and determine whether the mu sic of the ancients was as perfect as ours. It is generally allowed, that the ancients were acquainted with the triple symphony, that is, the harmony of voices, that of instruments, and that of voices and instruments in concert. It is also agreed, that they excelled in what relates to rhythmus. What is meant by rhythmus, is the assemblage or union of various times in music, which are joined together with a certain order, and in certain proportions. To un- derstand this definition, it is to he observed, that the music we are speaking of, was always set and sung to the words of certain verses, in which every syl- lable was distinguished into long and short ; that the short syllable was pro- nounced as quick again as the long ; that therefore the former was reckoned to make up but one time, whil^ the latter made up two ; and consequently the sound which answered t6 tliis was to continue twice as long as the sound which answered to the other ; or, which is the same thing, it was to consist of two times or measures, while the other comprehended but one ; that the verses which were sung consisted of a certain number of feet, formed by the differ- ent combinations of these long and short syllables ; and that the rhythmus of the song regularly followed the march of these feet. As these feet, of what* ever nature or extent, w^ere always divided into two equal or unequal parts, of which the former was called (5?jis-. elevation or rising, and the latter ^icn^', depressing or falling ; so the rhythmus of the song, w^hich answered to every one of these feet, was divided "into two parts equally or unequally, by what we now call a beat, and rest or intermission. The scrupulous regard the an- cients had to the quantity of their syllables in their vocal music, made their rhythm.us much more perfect and regular than ours : for our poetry is not formed upon the measure of long and short syllables ; but, nevertheless, a skilful musician among us may in some manner express, by the length of the rounds, the quantity of every syllable. This account of the rhythmus of the aicients I have copied from one of the dissertations of Monsieur Burette; which I have done out of regard for young students, to whom thi« little ex- planation may be of great use for the understanding of several passages in ancient authors. I now return to my subject. The principal point in dispute among the learned, concerning the music of the ancients, is, to know whether they understood music in several parts ; that is, a composition consi-sting of several parts, and in which all those different parts form each by itself a complete piece, and at the same time have a har- monious connexion, as it is in our counterpoint or concert, whether simple or compounded. If the reader be curious to know more concerning this matter, and whatever else relates to the music of the ancients, I refer him to the learned disserta- tions of the above-mentioned M. Burette, inserted in the 3d, 4th, and 5th vo- lumes of the memoirs of the Royal Academy des Belles LettreSy which show the profound erudition and exquisite taste of that writer, SECTION III. — PHYSIC. We likewise discover, in those early times, the origin of physic, the begin- nings of which, as of all other arts and sciences, were veiy rude and imper- fect. Herodotus, and after him Strabo, observe, that it was a general custom amonff the Babylonians, to expose their sick persons to the view of passengers, in order to learn from them whether they had been afflicted with the like dis- temper, and by what remedies they had been cured.*^ From hence several people have pretended, that physic is nothing else than a conjectural and ex- perimental science, entirely resulting from observations made upon the nature Df different diseases, and upon such things as are conducive or prejudicial to • Herod. 1. i. c. 197. Strab I. Ifi. p. ASS\ WANS, Jcc 3^1 ft^atth. It must be confessed, that experience will go a great way ; but that alone is not sufficient. The famous Hippocrates made great use of it in hiB practice ; but he did not entirel}'- rely upon it. The custom was, in those days, for ak persons that had been sick, and were cured, 1o put up a tablet dedi- cated to ^sculapius, wherein they gave an account of the remedies that had restored them to health.* That celebrated physician caused all these inscrip tions and memorials to be copied out, which were of great advantage to him. Physic was, even in the time of the Trojan war, in great use and esteem. t ^iEsculapius, who flourished at that time, is looked upon as the inventor of that art, and had even then brought it to great perfection by his profound know- ledge in botany, by his great skill in medicinal preparations and chirurgical Iterations ; for in those days these several branches were not separated from one another, but were all included under the denomination of Physic. The two sons of ^sculapius, Podalirius and Machaon, who commanded a certain number of troops at the siege of Troy, were both most excellent phy- sicians and brave officers, and rendered as much service to the Grecian army by their skill in their medical, as they did by their courage and conduct in their military capacity.]; Nor did Achilles himself, or even Alexander the Great, in after-times, tnink the knowledge of this science improper for a gene- ral, or beneath his dignity. § On the contrary, he learned it himself of Chiron, the centaur, and afterwards instructed his friend Patroclus in it, who did not dis.dain to exercise the art, m healing the wound of Eurypilus. This w^ound he healed by the application of a certain root, which immediately assuaged the pain, and stopped the bleeding. Botany, or that part of physic which treats of herbs and plants, w^as very much known, and almost the only branch of the science used in those early times. Virgil, speaking of a celebrated phy- sician, who was instructed in his art by Apollo himself, seems to confine thai profession to the knowledge of simples : Scire potestotes herhariim^ usumque medcndi maluitJ^ It was nature itself that offered those innocent and salutary remedies, and seemed to invite mankind to make use of them. Their gar- dens, fields, and woods supplied them with an infinite plenty and variety.^ As yet no use was mcde of minerals, treacles, and other compositions, since discovered by closer and more inquisitive researches into nature.** Pliny saj'-s, that physic, brought by ^sculapius into great reputation about the time of the Trojan war, was soon after neglected and lost, and lay in a man- ner buried in darkness till the time of the Peloponnesian war, when it w^as re- vived by Hippocrates, and restored to its ancient honour and credit. tt This may be true with respect to Greece ; but in Persia w^e find it always cultivated, and constantly held in great reputation. The great Cyrus, as is observed by Xenophon, never failed to take a certain number of excellent physicians along with him in the army, rewarding them very liberally, and treating them with particular regard.JJ He farther remarks, that in this, Cyrus only followed a cus- tom that had been anciently established among their generals ; and that the younger Cyrus acted in the same manner.§§ It must nevertheless be acknon^l edged, that it was Hippocrates who carried this science to its highest perfection : and though it is certain, that several improvements and new discoveries have been made in that art since his time, yet he is stilMooked upon, by the ablest physicians, as the first and chief master of the faculty, and as the person whose writings ought to be the chief -tudy of those who w^ould distinguish themselves in that profession. Men thus qualified, who, besides their having studied the most celebrated physicians, as well ancient as modern, besides the knowledge they have ac- quired of tne virtues of simples, the principles of natural philosophy, and the constitution and contexture of human bodies, have had a long practice and ex • T*!in.l. xxix. c. 1 Strr.h. !. viii. p. ,'^74. t Dioc 1. T. p. 341. ' } Horn. Iliad. 1. X. V. S >1— 8-17. ? Pint, in Alex. p. f;63. i! .*:n. 1. xii. v. 3'<<* 1[ Filn. 1 -xxvi. c. 1. ♦* Plin. I. xsiv. <•. 7. Li')- xxix. c. 9 \\ Cyrop. 1. i. p. -29. el 1. vni. p. 512. ;j P'r F.Kpfd. i yr. \. u p. sn ^2 MANNERS OF THK perience, and ( ^ that have added their own serious reflections ; :tich meri n lliese, in a wdl ordered state, deserve to be highJy rewarded and distinguish^ as the Holy Spirit itself signifies to us in the sacred writings : " The skill ot the physician shall lift up his head ; and in the sight of great men he shall be in admiration since all their labours, lucubrations, and watchings, are de- voted to the people's health, which of all human blessings is the dearest and most valuable. And yet this blessing is what mankind are the least careful to \ resoj ve. They do not only destroy it by riot and excess, but, through a blind cieduiity, they foolishly intrust it with persons of no skill or experience, nho iiiipose upon them by their imprudence and presumption, or seduce them by thtii flattering assurances of infallible recoveiy.t SECTION IV. — ASTRONOMY. As much as the Grecians desired to be esteemed the authors and inventors of all arts and sciences, they could never absolutely deny the Babylonians the honour of having laid the foundations of astronomy. The advantageous situa- tion of Babylon, which was built upon a wide extended flat country, where no mountains bounded the prospect ; the constant clearness and serenity of die air in that country, so favourable to the free contemplation of the hSavens ; per- haps also the extraordinary height of the tower of Babel, which seemed to be intended for an observatory ; all these circumstances were -strong motives to engage this people in a more nice observation of the various motions of the heavenly bodies and the regular course of the stars.J The abb^ Renaudot, in his Dissertation upon the Spheie, observes, that the plain whicn in Scripture is called Shinar, and in which Babylon stood, is the same that is called by the Arabians Sinjar, where the caliph Almamon, the seventh of the Habbassides, in whose reign the sciences began to flourish among the Arabians, caused the astronomical observations to be made, which for several ages directed all the astronomers of Europe ; and that the sultan Gelaleddin Melikschah, the third of the Seljukides, caused a course of the like observations to be made, near inree bundled years afterwards, in the same place : from whence it appears, that this place was always reckoned one of the most suitable in the world lor astronomical observations. § The ancient Babylonians could not have carried theirs to any great perfec- tion, for want of the help of telescopes, which are of modern invention, and have greatly contiibuted of late years to render our astronomical inquiries more perfect and exact. Whatever they were, they have not come down to us. Epigenes, a great and credible author, according to Pliny, speaks of observa- tions made for the space of seven hundred and twenty years, and imprinted upon squares of brick : which if it be true, must reach back to a very early antiquity.!! I'hose of which Calisthenes, a philosopher in Alexander's court, makes mention, and of which he gave Aristotle an account, include 1903 years, and consequently must commence very near the deluge, and the time of Nim- rod's building tiie city of Babylon. IF We are certainly under great obligations, for which our acknowledgments are due, to the labours and curious inquiries of those who have contributed to tlje discovery or improvement of so useful a science ; a science not only of great service to agriculture and navigation, by the knowledge it gives us of the regu- lar course of the stars, and of the wonderful, constant, and uniform proportion of days, months, seasons, and years, but even to religion itself; with which, as Plato shows, the study of that science has a very close and necessary ccmex* ion ; as it directly tends to inspire us with great reverence for the Deity, who, * Eccles. xxxviii. 3. t Palam csl, u*. quisque inter istos locuendo polleat, imperatorem illico vitas nostrce neci&que fieri.-— A i BO Mandii e»t speranui prose cuiqne duicedo. — Plin. 1. xxix. c. 1. J A principio Assyrii propter pJaniticm m»g-i)jtuilineirique rc^ionum quas incolebant, cum cesium ei OKif fertf! p«».tcnt et ;iperliuii intuerentur, trnjcctiones motusque stt;llervim observaverunt. — Cic. lib. i. de l'>ivjj % ? I P.fc.nioir.^ (if ihr Ar.-.idcniy des Belles Lettres, Vol. I. Part. ii. p. 2. !1 J'lir:. Hijk 1 'rVi r M"^ Si Porphyr. apiid. Siniplic. in 1. ii. d« rretio. ASSYRIANS, kc. 393 frith an infinite wisdom, presides over the Government of the universe, and la present and attentive to all our actions.* But, at the same time, we cannot suf* nciently deplore the misfortune of tliose very philosophers, who, by their suc- cessful application and astronomical inquiries, came very near the Creator, and were yet so unhappy as not to find him, because they did not serve and adore him as they ought to do, nor govern their actions by the rules and direc tions of that divine model. t SECTION V. — JUDICIAL ASTROLOGY. As to the Babylonian and other eastern philosophers, the study of the hea- renly bodies was so far from leading them, as it ought to have done, to the knowledge of Him who is both their creator and governor, that for the most part it carried them into impious practices, and the extravagances of judicia) astrology. So we terra that deceitful and presumptuous science, which pre- tends to judge of things to come by the knowledge of the stars, and to foretell events by the situation of the planets, and by their different aspects. A science justly looked upon as ri madness and folly by all the most sensible writers among the pagans themselves. O delirationem incredibilem ! cries Cicero, in re futing the extravagant opinions of those astrologers, frequently called Chal deans, from the country that first produced them; who, in consequence of the observations made, as they affirmed, by their predecessors upon all past events for the space only of four hundred and seventy thousand years, pretend to know assuredly, by the aspect and combination of the stars and planets, at the in- stant of a child's birth, what would be his genius, temper, manners, the con- stitution of his body, his actions, and, in a word, ail the events, with the dura- ion of his life. He details a thousand absurdities of this opinion, which are jufficient to expose it to ridicule and contempt ; and asks, why of all that vast number of children that are born in the same moment, and without doubt ex- actly under the aspect of the same stars, there are not two of them whose lives and fortunes resemble each other ? He puts this farther question, whether that great number of men that perished at the battle of Cannae, and died of one and the same death, were all born under the same constellations ']% It is hardly credible, that so absurd an art, founded entirely upon fraud and imposture, fraudulentissima artium, as Pliny calls it, should ever acquire so much credit as this has done, throughout the whole world and in all ages. What has supported and brought it into such repute, continues that author^ is the natural curiosity men have to penetrate into futurity, and to know be- f3rehand the things that are to befall them : Nullo non avido fuUira de se set- endi ; attended with a superstitious credulity, which is agreeably flattered with the grateful and magnificent promises of which those fortune-tellers are never gparinsc. ltd hlandissimis desideratissimisque promissis addidit vires religio- nism ad quas rnaxime etiamnum caligat humanum genus.^ Modern writers, and among others, two of our greatest philosophers, Gassendi and Rohault, have inveighed against the folly of that pretended science, with the same energy, and have demonstrated it to be equally void of principle and experience.il ^ As for its principles. The heavens, according to the system of the astrologers, are divided into twelve equal parts ; which parts are taken, not according to the poles of the world, but according to those of the zodiac : these twelve parts or proportions of heaven, have each of them its attribute, as riches, knowledge, parentage, &c. The most important and decisive portion is that which is nex* under the horizon, and which is called the ascendant, because it is ready to ascend and appear above the horizon when a man comes into the world. Thr, * In Epinom. p. 989—992. f Magaa induslria, magna solertia: sed ibi Creatorem scrutati sunt positum non lonpe a se, et noa iu.« Mrunt— quia quaerere neglexerunt. — August, de Verb. Evang. Matth. Serra. Ixviii. c. 1. t Lib. ii. de Div. n. 87, 99. § Fli". Prooem. 1. xxw y /Gassendi Phvf «eft ?i. 1. 6. Rohault*! Phvs. part ii. ch.27. 394 MANNERS or THK planets are divided into the propitious, the malignant, and the mixed : the aspecta of these planets, which are only certain distances from one another, are likewise either happy or unhappy. I say nothing of several other hypotheses, which are all equally arbitrar}^ ; and I ask, whether any man of common ^ense can believe them upon the'b^re words of these impostors, without any proofs, or even without the least shadow of probability ? The critical moment, and that on which all their predictions depend, is that of the birth. And why not as well the moment of conception ? Why have the stars no influence during the nine months of pree*. nancy? Or is it possible, considering the incredible rapidity of the heavenly bodies, always to be sure of hitting the precise determinate moment,Mvithout the least variation, more or less, which is sufficient to overthrow all ? A thou- sand other objections of the same kind might be made, which are altogether unanswerable. As for experience, they have still less reason to flatter themselves on that side. Whatever they have of that, must consist in observations founded upon events that have always come to pass in the same manner, whenever the planets were found in the same situation. Now, it is unanimously agreed by astronomers, that several thousand years must pass before any such situation of the stars as they would imagine, can twice happen ; and it is very certain, that the state in which the heavens will be to-morrow, has never yet been since the creation of the world. The reader may consult the two philosophers above mentioned, particularly Gassendi, who has more copiously treated this subject. But such, and no better, are the foundations upon which the whole structure of judicial astrology is built. But what is astonishing, and argues an absolute want of all r-eason. is, that certain pretended wits, who obstinately harden themselves against the most convicting proofs of religion, and who refuse to believe even the clearest and most certain prophecies upon the word of God, do sometimes give entire credit to the vain predictions of those astrologers and impostors. St. Austin, in several passages of his writings, informs us, that this stupid and sacrilegious credulity is a just chastisement from God, w^io frequently punishes the voluntary blindness of men, by inflicting a still greater blindness ; and who suffers evil spirits, that they may keep their servants still more in their nets, sometimes to foretell things which do really come to pass, and of which the expectation very often serves only to torment them.* Godjwho alone foresees future contingencies and events, because he alone is the sovereign disposer and director of then^, does often in Scripture revile the igno- rance of the Babylonian astrologers, so much boasted of, calling them forgers of lies and falsehood : he moreover Oefies all the false gods to foretell any thing whatever ; consents, if they do, that they should be worshipped as gods. Then addressing himself to the city of Babylon, he particularly declares all the cir- cumstances of the miseries with which she shall be overwhelmed, above two hundred years after that prediction ; and that none ui her prognosticators,who had flattered her with the assurances of a perpetual grandeur they pretended to have read in the stars, should l^e able to avert the judgment, or even to fore see the. time of its accomplishment.! Indeed, how should they ? since at the very time of its execution, wdien Belshazzar, the last king of Babylon, saw a hand come out of the wall, and write unknown characters t!n>*'eon, the Magi, * His omnibus consideratis, non immerito creditur, cum astrolog-i mirabiliter multa vera respondeut, oc- culto instinctu fieri spiritnum nonbonorum, quorum cura est has falsas etnoxias opinions^s de astralibus fatit inserere humanis mentibus atque firmare, non horoscopi notati et inspecti aliqua arte, quae nulla est. — Dc, C'iv. Dei, !. V. c. 7. t " Therefore shall evil come upon thee, thou shalt not know from whence H riseth : and mischief shaJl fall upon thee, thou shalt not be able to put it off: and desolation shall come upon thee suddenly, which thou shalt not know. Stand now with thine enchantmenti, and with the multitude of thy sorcerie.s. whereia thou hast laboured from thy youth ; if so be, thou shalt be able to profit, if so be, thou mayest prevail. Thow art wearied in the multitude of thy counsels : let now the aitrolog:*>rs, the star-garers, the pfoe^nosti- Cators, stand up, and save thee from these thing-s that shall come upon thee. Behold, thejy^ shall b*; ei •tubble : thxi fira ihall burn them : they ahall not deliver Uiemaelrea from th« power of the flame."— Ian. tlTii. 11—14. * A S \ K J A .\ S. c . Chaldeans, and, in a word, all the pretended sages of the country, were not able 8o much as to read the writing.* Here, then, we see astrology antl ina^iccon victed of ignorance and impotence, in the very place where they were most in practice, and on an occasion when it was certainly their interest lo displaj their science and whole power. ARTICLE IV. RELIGION. The mos* authentic and general idolatry in the world, is that wherein the sun and moon were the objects of divine worship. This idolatry was founded upon A mistaken gratitude ; which, instead of ascending up to the Deity, stopped short at the veil,which both covered and discovered him. With the least reflec- tion or penetration, they might have discerned the Sovereign who commanded, from the minister who did but obey.f In all ag^es, mankind have been sensibly convinced of the necessity of an inter- course between God and man : and adoration supposes God to be both atten- tive to man's desires, and capable of fulfilling them. But the distance of the sun and of the moon is an obstacle to this intercourse. Therefore, foolish men endeavoured to remedy this inconvenience, by laying their hands upon their mouths, and then lifting them up in order to testify that they would be glad to unite themselves to those false gods, but that they could not.J This was that impious custom so prevalent throughout all the East, from which Job esteemed liimself happy to have been preserved: "If I beheld the sun when it shined, or the moon walking in brightness, and my heart hath been secretly enticed, or my mouth hath kissed my hand."§ The Persians adored the sun, and particularly the rising sun, with the most profound veneration, to whom they dedicated a magnificent chariot, with horses of the greatest beauty and value, as we have seen in Cyrus's stately cavalcade.il '^This same ceremony was practised by the Babylonians; of whom some im pious kings of Judah borrowed it, and brought it into Palestine.) Sometimes they likewise sacrificed oxen to this god, who was very much known among them by the name of Mithra.lT By a natural consequence of the worship they paid to the sun, they likewise paid, a particular veneration to fire, always invoked it first in the sacrifices,** carried it with great respect before the king in all his marches ; intrusted the keeping of their sacred fire, which came down from heaven, as they pretended, to none but the Magi ; and would have looked upon it as the greatest of misfor- tunes, if it had been suffered to go out.jf History informs us, that the emperor Heraclius, when he was at war with the Persians, demolished several of their temples, and particularly the chapel in which the sacred fire had been pre served till that time, which occasioned great mourning and lamentation through- out the whole country. The Persians likewise honoured water, the earth, and the winds, as so many deities.§6 The cruel ceremony of causing children to pass through the fire, was undoubt- edly a consequence of the worship paid to that element; for thi&nre-worship was common to the Babylonians and Persians. The Scripture positively says of the people of Mesopotamia, who were sent as a colony into the countiy of the Samaritans, that *' they caused their children to pass through the fire. It is well known how common this barbarous custom became, in many province! of Asia. Besides these, the Persians had two gods of a more extraordinary nature, aamcly, Oromasdes and Arimanius.|l|| The former they looked upon as the au- * Van. y. 2. | Amon^ tke Hebrews, the ordinary name for the sun signifies a minisler. I Superstit'jjsus vulguj manum Q?i firlriiovens, ospulum ^abiis pressit.-— Minuc. p. 2. From thence eom«« ^Z'fd adorxre ; that i; tP say, ad ot manuin ddmovere. j The te»l is a kiqd of oalh, Job xxxi. 26, 27. 11 Her. 1. i. c. 131. f 9 Kinft, axlii. 11. Strab.l. xv. p. 732. ** Ibid. tt X:cn. Cyrop. 1. viii. p. 215. Am. Mar. 1. ixiii 4| Zo»a». Annal. Vol.U: {J Hnr. I i.e. 131. nji Plut. in lib.de Isld. «t Oiirid, j?. tdt 396 MANA'£K« OF THJB thor of all the blessings and good things that happened to theyn ; and the lattei as the author of all the evils wherewith they were afflicted. I shall give a large account of these deities hereafter. The Persians erected neither statues nor temples, nor altars to their gods, but offered their sacrifices in the open air, and generally on the tops of hills, or on high places.* It was in the open fields that Cyrus acquitted himself of that religious duty, when he made the pompous and solemn procession already spoken off It is supposed to have been through the advice and instigation of the Magi, that Xerxes, the Persian king, burnt all the Grecian temples, es- teeming it injurious to the majesty of God, to shut him up within walls, to whom all things are open and to whom the whole world should be reckoned as a house or a temple.J Cicero things, that in this the Greeks and Romans acted more wisely than (he Persians, in that they erected temples within their cities, and thereby sup posed their gods to reside among them, which was a proper way to inspire the people with sentiments of religion and piety.§ Varro was not of the same opinion : St. Austin has preserved that passage of his works. || After having observed, that the Romans had worshipped their gods without statues or ima- ges for above a hundred and seventy years, he adds, that, if they had still preserved that ancient custom, their religion would have been the more pure and free from corruption ; Quod si adhuc mansisset, castius dii observarentur ; and to confirm his sentiment, he cites the example of the Jewish nation. The laws of Persia suffered no man to confine the motive of his sacrifices to any private or domestic interest. This was a fine way of attaching all particu- lar persons to the public good, by teaching them that they ought never to sa- crifice for themselves only, but for the king and the whole state, wherein every man was comprehended with the rest of his fellow-citizens. The Magi were ihe guardians of all the ceremonies relating to their wor- ship ; and it was to them the people had recourse, in order to be instructed therein, and to know on what days, to what gods, and after what manner, they were to offer their sacrifices. As these Magi w^ere all of one tribe, and as none but the son of a priest could pretend to the honour of the priesthood, they kept all their learning and knowledge, whether in religious or political con- cerns, to themselves and their families ; nor was it lawful for them to instruct any strangers in these matters, without the king's permission. It was granted in favour of Themistocles, and was, according to Plutarch, a particular effect of the prince's great consideration for that distinguished person. IF This knowledge and skill in religious matters, which made Plato define ma- gic, or the learning of the Magi, the art of worshipping the gods in a becoming manner, ^£,lv ^s^aneiav, gave the Magi great authority, both with the prince and the people, who could cffer no sacrifice without their presence and ministration. And before a prince in Persia could come to the crown, he was obliged to receive instruction for a certain time from some of the Magi, and to learn of them both the art of reigning, and that of worshipping the gods after a proper manner.*^ Nor did he determine any important affair of state, when he was upon the throne, without first taking their advice and opinion ; for which reason Pliny says, that even in his time they were looked upon, in all the eastern countries, as the masters and directors of princes, and of those who styled them- seives the kings of kings.tt * Hsrpd. 1. i. c. 131. f Cyro^).!. viii. p. 233. J Aucti^ribus Magii Xerxes inflammasse templa Graeclae dicitur, quod parietibus includerunt deos, quibui omnia dcberent ease patentia ac libera, quorumque hie mundus omnis templura esset et domut. — Clc. lib. \\. de Lesrib. § Melius Gr%ci atquo nostri, qui. ut au^erent pietatem in deos, easdem illos urbes, quas nos incolere luerunt. Adfert eninr h»c opinio reli^ionem utilem civitatibus. — Cic. lib. ii. de Le^ib. il Lib. iv. ae Civ. Dei, n. 31. IT In Them. p. 126. • ** Necquisquam rex Persanim potest esse, qui nonante Magorum disciplinam scientiamquc perceperit Cic. de Diyin. 1. i. n. 91. In tantum fastig-ii adolevit (auctoritas Magorum \ Jit hrdieqne etiam in magfn» pnrte g-entiuin praviilcat 01 IB •rieate regiio) re^ibus iinpet «t. — P1>h *. xxx. c. I. ASSYRIANS. &.C. They were the sages, the philosophers, and men of leannng in Persia ; as the Gymnosophists and Brachmans were among the Indians, and tfie Di lids among the Gauls. Their great reputation invited people from tlie most dis- tant countries to he instructed by them in philosophy and religion ; and we are assured it was from them that Pythagoras borrowed the principles of that learning, by which he acquired so much veneration and respect among the Greeks, excepting onW his doctrine of transmigration, which he learned of the CiCyptians, and by which he corrupted and debased the ancient doctrine of th»? iVfagi concerning the immortality of the soul. It is generally agreed that Zoroaster was the original author and founder of this sect; but authors are considerably divided in their opinions about the time in which he lived. What Pliny says upon this head, may reasonably serve to reconcile that variety of opinions, as is very judiciously observed by Dr Pri- deaux.* We read in that author, that there were two persons named Zoroas- ter, between whose lives there might be the distance of 600 years. The first of them was the founder of the Magian sect about the year of the world 2900 , and the latter, who certainly flourished between the beginning of Cyrus's reign in the East, and the end of Darius's, son of Hytaspes, was the restorer and re- former of it. Throughout all the eastern countries, idolatry was divided into two principal sects ; that of the Sabeans, who adored images ; and that of the Magi, who worshipped fire. The former of these sects had its rise among the Chaldeans, who, from their knowledge of astronomy, and their particular application to the study of the several planets, which they believed to be inhabited by so many intelligences, who were to those orbs what the soul of man is to his body, were induced to represent Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Apollo, Mercuiy, Venus, and Di- ana, or the Moon, by so many images or statues, in which they imagined those pretended intelligences or deities, were as really present as in the planets them- selves. In time, the number of their gods increased ; this image-worship, from Chaldea, spread itself throughout all the East; from thence passed to Egypt ; and at length came among the Greeks, who propagated it through all the west ern nations. To this sect of the Sabeans, that of the Magi, which also took its rise in the game eastern countries, was diametrically opposite. The Magi utterly abhorred images, and worshipped God only uncler the form of fire ; looking upon that, on account of its purity, brightness, activity, subtlety, fecundity, and incorrupti- bility, as the most perfect symbol or representation of the Deity. They be- gan first in Persia, and there and in India were the only places where this seel was propagated, where they remain even to this day. The chief doctrine was. thai there were two principals ; one the cause of all good, and the other the cause of all evil. The former is represented by light, and the other by darkness, as their truest symbols. The good god they named Yazdan and Ormuzd, and the evil god Ahraman. The former is by the Greeks called Or- omasdes, and the latter Arimanius. And therefore, when Xerxes prayed that his enemies might always resolve to banish their best and bravest citizens as Ihe Athenians had Themistocles, he addressed his prayer to Arimanius, the evij god of the Persians, and not to Oromasdes, their good god.j Concerning these two gods, they had this diflferenceof opinion, that whereas some held both of them to have been from all eternity, others contended that the good god only was eternal, and the other was created. But they both agreed in this, that there will be a continual opposition between these two, till the end of the world : that then the good god shall overcome the evil god, and that from thenceforward each of them shall have a world to himself ; that is, the good god, his world with all the good ; and the evil god, his world with the nicked. The second Zoroaster, who lived in the time of Darius, undertook to reform 9ome articles in the religion of the Magian sect, which for several ages had been • Hi«t NikX. l.ixx. a. 1. t Plut. in Th*rrai6ti». 1 in. 398 MA.NNE11S OF THE tfee predominant rel«igion of the Medes and Persians ; but, since the death ol Smerdis and his chief confederates, and the massacre of their adherents and followers, was fallen into great contempt. It is thought this reforme made his first appearance in Ecbatana. , The chief reformation he made in the Magian religion, was in the first prin- ciple of it. For whereas before, they had held as a fundamental principle the being of the two supreme first causes ; the first light, which was the author of all good, and the other darkness, the author of all evil : and that of the mix rure of these two, as they were in a continual struggle with each other, all things were made ; he introduced a principal, superior to them both, one supreme God, who created both light and darkness ; and who, out of these two princi- ples, made all other things according to his own will and pleasure. But, to avoid making God the author of evil, his doctrine was, that there was one Supreme Being, independent and self-existing from all eternity : that under him there were tw^o angels ; one the angel of light, who is the author of all good ; and the other the angel of darkness, who is the author of all evil ; ^hat these two, out of the mixture of light and darkness, made all things that exist ; that they are in a perpetual struggle with each other ; thai where the angel of light prevails, there good reigns ; and that where the angel of dark- ness prevails, there evil takes place ; that this struggle shall continue to the end of the world ; that then there shall be a general resurrection and a day of judgment, wherein all shall receive a just retribution according to their w^orks. After which the angel of darkness and his disciples shall go into a world of their own, where they shall suffer, in everlasting darkness, the punishment of their evil deeds ; and the angel of light and his disciples shall also go into a world of their own, where they shall receive, in everlasting light, the reward due to their good deeds ; that after this, they shall remain separated for ever, and light and darkness be no more mixed together to all eternity. All this the remainder of that sect, which is now in Persia and India, do, without any va- riation, after so many ages, still hold even to this day. It is needless to inform the reader, that almost all these tenets, though altereU m many circumstances, do in general agree with the doctrine of the holy .Scriptures ; with which it plainly appears the two Zoroasters were well ac- quainted, it being easy for both of them to have had an intercourse or personal acquaintance with the people of God ; the first of them in Syria, where the /sraelites had been long settled ; the latter at Babylon, to which place the same people were carried captive, and where Zoroaster might confer with Danie^ \iimself, who was in very great power and credit in the Persian court. Another reformation made by Zoroaster in the ancient Magian religion, was, tjhat he caused temples to be built, wherein their sacred fires were carefully find constantly preserved ; and especially that which he pretended himself to have brought down from heaven. Over this the priest kept a perpetual waich niffht and day, to prevent its being extinguished. Whatever relates to the sect or religion of the Magians, the reader will fino v€ry largely and learnedly treated in dean Prideaux's Connexions of the Old and New Testament, &c. from whence I have taken this short extract. THEIR MARRIAGES, AND MANNER OF BURYING THE DEAD. Having said so much of the religion of the eastern nations, which is an article I thought myself obliged to enlarge upon, because I look upon it as an essential part of their history, I shall be forced to treat of their other customs with th« renter brevity : among which their marriages and burials are too material to e omitted. There is nothing more horrible, or that gives us a greater idea of the pro- found darkness into which idolatry had plunged mankind, than the public prostitution of women at Babylon, which was not only authorized by law, but even commanded by the religion of their countr}^ upon a certain festival of the year, celebrated in honour of the goddess Venus, under the name of My- litla, whcwe temple, by means of this iniamous ceremony, became a brothelt ASSYRIANS. Sec. 399 or place of debauchery.* This wicked custom was still existing when the Israelites were carried captive to that criminal city ; for which reason the prophet Jeremiah thought fit to caution and admonish diem against so abomi- nable a scandal.! Nor had the Persians any better notion of the dignity and sanctity of the matrimonial institution, than the Babylonians. I do not mean only with re- gard to that incredible multitude of wives and concubines, with which their kings filled their seraglios, and of whom they were as jealous as if they had but one wife, keeping them shut up in separate apartments, under a strict guard of eunuchs, without suffering them to have any communication with one another, much less with persons without doors. J It strikes one with horror to read how far they neglected the most common laws of nature. Even incest with a sister was allowed among them by their laws, or at least authorized by their Magi, those pretended sages of Persia, as we have seen in the history of Cambyses.§ Nor did even a father respect his own daughter, or a mother the son of her own body. We read in Plutarch, that Parysatis, the mother of Artaxerxes Mnemon, who strove in all things to please the king her son, per ceiving that he had conceived a violent passion for one of his own daughters, called Atossa, was so far from opposing his unlawful desire, that she herself advised him to marry her, and make her his wife, and laughed at the maxims and laws of the Grecians, which declared such marriage to be unlawful. 'Tor" says she to him, carrying her flattery to a monstrous excess, " are not you yourself set by God over the Persians, as the only law and rule of what is be- coming or unbecoming, virtuous or vicious This detestable custom continued till the time of Alexander the Great, who, having become master of Persia by the overthrow and death of Darius, made an express law to suppress it. These enormities may serve to teach us from what an abyss the gospel has delivered us ; and how weak a barrier human wisdom is of itself against the most extravagant and abominable crimes. I shall finish this article by saying a word or two upon their manner of burying the dead. It was not the custom of the eastern nations, and especially of the Persians, to erect funeral piles for the dead, and to consume their bodies in the flames. IF Accordingljr we find that Cyrus,** when he was at the point of death, took care to charge his children to inter his body, and to restore it to the earth ; that is the expression he makes use of ; by which he seems to declare, that he looked upon the earth as the original parent from whence he sprung, and to which he ought to return. tt And when Cambyses had offered a thousand indignities to the dead body of Amasis,king of Egypt, he thought he crowned ail by causing it to be burnt, which was equally contrary to the Egyptian and Pf rsian manner of treating the dead. It was the custom of the latter to wrap up their dead in wax,J;{; in order to keep them the longer from corruption. §§ I thought proper to give a full account, in this place, of the manners and cus- toms of the Persians, because the history of that people will take up a great part of this work, and because I shall say no more on that subject in the sequel. The treatise of Barnabas Brisson,|||| president of the parliament of Paris, upon the government of the Persians, has been of great use to me. Such collections as these, when they are made by able hands, save a writer a great deal of pain?, and furnish him with matter of erudition, that costs him little, and yet often doet him great honour. ♦ Herod, l.i. c. 199. t Baruch, vi. 42, 43. + Herod. 1. i. c. 135. } Philo. lib. de Special. Lej. p. 778. Diog. Laert. in Procem. p. 6. || In Artax. p. 1023. IT Herod. 1, iii. c. 19. Ac BBihi quidem antiquissimum sepulturie genus id fuisse videtur, quo apud Xenophontem CjrusuUtur. Reddituf enim terrae corpus, et ita locatum ac situm quasi operimento matris obducitur. — Cic. lib. U. (L Leg, n. 56. ft Cyrop. 1. viii. p. 288. iX Condiunt Jt^gjpiu mortuos, «t eos domi servant : Persae jam cera circum litos eondiunt, ut quam masi ■a permaneant diuturna corporia. — Cic. Tuscul, Q,uae«t. lib. i. n. 108. ^{ Herod. 1. iii. c. 16. fl Bamali. Bri8K>Btu8 d« Re^^io Persarum Pricc'wpatii £cc. Arj^saUrat^ aa. 1710. too MANNERS OF THE ARTICLE V. THE CAUSE OF THE DECIENSION OF THE PERSIAN EMPIRE, AND OF THE CHAN6& THAT HAPPENED IN THEIR MANNERS. When we compare the Persians, as they were before Cyrus, and (luring his reign, v'th what they were afterwards in the reigns of his successors, we can hardJy believe they were the same people ; and we see a sensible illustration of this truth, that the declension of manners, in any state, is always attended with that of empire and dominion. Among many other causes that brought about the declension of the Persian em.pire, the four following may be looked upon as the principal : their exces- sive magnificence and luxury ; the abject subjection and slavery of the people ; the bad education of their princes, which was the source of all their irregula- rities ; and their want of faith in the execution of their treaties, oaths, and en- gagements. SECTION I. — LUXURY AND MAGNIFICENCE. What caused the Persian troops, in Cyrus's time, to be looked upon as in- vincible, was the temperate and hard life to which they were accustomed from their infancy, having nothing but water for their ordinary drink, bread and roots for their ordinary food, the ground, or something as hard, to lie upon; inuring themselves to the most painful exercises and labours, and esteeming the greatest dangers as nothing. The temperature of the country where they were born, which was rough, mountainous, and woody, might somewhat contribute to their hardiness ; for which reason Cyrus would never consent to the project of transplanting them into a more mild and agreeable climate.* The excellent manner of educating the ancient Persians, of which we have already given a sufficient account, and which was not left to the humours and fancies of parents, but was subject to the authority and direction of the magistrates, and regulated upon principles of the public good : this excellent education prepared them for observing, in all places and at all times, a most exact and severe discipline. Add to this the influence of the prince's example, who made it his ambition to surpass all his subjects in regularity, was the most abstemious and sober in his manner of life, the plainest in his dress, the most inured and accustomed to hardships and fa- tigues, as well as the bravest and most intrepid in the time of action. What inight not be expected from soldiers so formed and so trained up? By them, therefore, we find Cyrus conquered a great part of the world. After all his victories, he continued to exhort his army and people not tc degenerate from their ancient virtue, that they might not eclipse the glory they had acquired, but carefully preserve that simplicity, sobriety, temperance, and love of labour, which were the means by which they had obtained it. But I do not know, whether Cyrus himself did not, at that very time, sow the first seeds of that luxury, which soon overspread and corrupted the whole nation. In that august ceremony, which we have already described at large, and on which he first showed himself in public to his new-conquered subjects, he thought proper, in order to heighten the splendour of his regal dignity, to make a pompous dis- play of all the magnificence and show that could be contrived to dazzle the eyes of the people. Among other things, he changed his own apparel, as also that of his officers, giving them all garments made after the fashion of the Medes, richly shining with gold and purple, instead of their Persian clothes, which were vtry plain and simple. This prince seemed to forget how much the contagious example of a court, increases the natural inclination all men have to value and esteem what pleases the eye, and makes a fine show, how glad they are to distinguish themselves above others by a false merit, easily attained in proportion to the degrees of wealth and ♦ Plul. in Apophlh.p.ni. ASSYRIANS. &c. 401 ranity a man has above his neighbours ; he forgot how capable z\\ this togethei was of corrupting the purity of ancient manners, and of introducing by degrees a general, predominant taste for extravagance and luxury. This luxury and extravagance rose in time to such an excess, as w^as little bet- ter than downright madness. The prince carried all his wives along with him to the wars : and what an equipage such a troop must be attended with is easy to judge. All his generals and officers followed his example, each in propor- tion to his rank and ability. Their pretext for so doing was, that the sight of what they held most dear and precious in the world, would encourage them t j fight with greater resolution ; but the true reason was the love of pleasure, by which they were overcome and enslaved, before they came to engage with the enemy.* Another instance of their folly was, that they carried their luxuiy and ex- travagance in the army, w^ith respect to their tents, chariots, and tables, to a greater excess, if possible, than they did in their cities. The most exquisite meats, the rarest birds, and the most costly dainties, must needs be found for the prince, in whatever part of the world he was encamped. They had theij vessels of gold and silver without number ;t instruments of luxury, says a cer- tain historian, not of victory, proper to allure and enrich an enemy, but not t( repel or defeat him.J I do not see what reason Cyrus could have for changing his conduct in the lasf seven years of his life. It must be owned, indeed, that the station of kings re quires a suitable grandeur and magnificence, which may, on certain occasions, be carried even to a degree of pomp and splendour. But princes, possessed of a real and solid merit, have a thousand ways of making up what they may seem to lose by retrenching some part of their outward state and magnificence. Cyrus himself had found, by experience, that a king is more sure of gaining respect from his people by the wisdom of his conduct, than by the greatness of his expenses ; ,ind that affection and confidence produce a closer attachment to his person, than a vain admiration of unnecessary pomp and grandeur. Be this as it will, Cy- rus's last example became very contagious. A taste for vanity and expense first prevailed at court, then spread itself into the cities and provinces, and in a little time infected the whole nation, and was one of the principal causes ol the ruin of that empire, which he himself had founded. What is here said of the fatal effects of luxury'is not peculiar to the Persian empire. The most judicious historians, the m-ost learned philosophers, and the profoundest politicians, all lay it dov^^n as a certain, indisputable maxim, that wherever luxury prevails, it never fails to destroy the most flourishing states and kingdoms ; and the experience of all ages, and all nations, does but too clearly demonstrate the truth of this maxim. What is this subtle, secret poison, then, that thus lurks under the pomp of luxury and the charms of pleasure, and is capable of enervating, at the same time, both the whole strength of the body, and the vigour of the mind ? It is not very difficult to comprehend why it has this terrible effect. When men are accustomed to a soft and voluptuous life, can they be very fit for undei^oir.g the fatigues and hardships of war ? Are they qualified for suffering the rigour of the seasons ; for enduring hunger and thirst ; for passing whole nights without sleep upon occasion ; for going through continual exercise and action ; for facing danger and despising death ? The natural effect of voluptuousness and delicacy, which are the inseparable companions of luxuiy, is to render men subject to a multitude of false wants and necessities, to make their hap- piness depend upon a thousand trifling conveniences and superfluities, which they can no '.onger be without, and to give them an unreasonable fondness for life, on acco jnt of a thousand secret ties and engagements tliat endear it in * XcDoph. Cyrop. 1. iv. i^. 01—09. | Senec. 1. iii. ie Ira, c. 10. i Non belli sf (3 liix:in;?i appp.ntiirn— Ac i -m Persr njnj r.nro purpuraqiia '"uljeotera intu-^ri ju'-'-bal Aiexnc hr, prasdam, non firm;> s"??'' nt'^'ii. — O^. Curi, Vol, I 402 MANNERS OF THE them, and which , by stifling in them the great motives of gloiy, of 2eal lor their prince, and love for their country, render them fearful and cowardly, and deter them from exposing themselves to dangers, which may in a moment de- prive them of all those things wherein they place their felicity. SECTION II. — THE ABJECT SUBMISSION AND SLAVERY OF THE PERSIANS. We are told by Plato, that this was one of the causes of the declension of the Persian empire. And, indeed, what contributes most to the preservation of states, and renders their arms victorious, is not the number, but the vigour and courage of their armies ; and, as it was finely said by one of the ancients^ " from the day a man loseth his liberty, he loseth one half of his ancient vir» tue."* He is no longer concerned for the prosperity of the state, to which he looks upon himself as an alien ; and having lost the principal motives of his attachment to it, he becomes indifferent about the success of public affairs, about the glory or welfare of his countrj^ in which his circumstances allow him to claim no share, and by which nis own private condition is not altered or im proved. It may truly be said, that the reign of Cyrus was a reign of liberty That prince never acted in an arbitrary manner ; he did not think that des potic power was worthy of a king ; or that there was any great fflory in ruling an empire of slaves. His tent was always open, and free access allowed to every one that desired to speak to him. He did not live retired, but was visible, accessible, and affable to all ; heard their complaints, and with his own eyes observed and rewarded merit ; invited to his table, not only his general offi- cers, and prime ministers, but even subalterns, and sometimes whole compa- nies of soldiers. The simplicity and frugality of his table made him capable of giving such entertainments frequently.! His aim therein was to animate his officers and soldiers, to inspire them with courage and resolution, to attach them to his person rather than to his dignity, and make them warmly espouse his glory, and still more the interest and prosperity of the state. This is what may be truly called the art of reigning and commanding. In reading Xenophon, with what pleasure do we observe, not only those fine turns of wit, that justness and ingenuity in their answers and repartees, that delicacy in iesting and raillery, but at the same time that amiable cheer- fulness and gayety,which enlivened their entertainments, from which all vanity and luxury v^ere banished, and in which the principal seasoning was a decent and becom.ing freedom, that prevented all constraint, and a kind of familiarity which was so far from lessening their respect for the prince, that it gave such life and spirit to it, as nothing but real affection and tenderness could pro- duccw I may venture to say, t-hat by such conduct as this, a prince doubles ?nd trebles his army at a small expense. Thirty thousand men of this sort are preferable to millions of such slaves as the Persians became afterwards. In time of action, on a decisive day of battle, this truth is m^ost evident ; and the prmce is more sensible of it than any body else. At the battle of Thymbriaj when Cyrus's horse fell under him, Xenophon takes notice how much it con- cerns a commander to be loved by his soldiers. The danger of the king's person became the danger of the army ; and his troops on that occasion gave incredible proofs of their courage and bravery. Things were not carried on in the same manner under the greatest part of his successors. Their only care was to support the pomp of sovereignty. I must confess, their outward ornaments and ensigns of royalty did not a little contribute to that end. A purple robe richly embroidered, and hanging down to their feet, a tiara, worn upright on their heads, with an imperial dir^dem round it, a golden sceptre in their hands, a magnificent throne, a numerous and shining court, a multitude of, officers and guards; these thir^gs must needs conduce to heighten the splendour of royalty ; but all this, when this is all, is * Horn. Odyss. v. 352. 1 Tantaa JrcB hab«t frut^^alilas prlncipis, ut tot impcndiis tot erocjaliocibisfc 5». 'a 5i;fliciat.-~Plin ii. Panfi|> Fruj. ASSVRlAAfi. &.C 40S of little or no value. What is that king in reality, wl/O loses all his merit and his dignitjr, when he puts off his ornaments ? Some of the eastern kings, to procure the great(ir /everence to their persons, generally kept themselves shut up in their palaces, and seldon* showed them- selves to their subjects. We have already seen that Dejoces, the first king of the Medes, at his accession to the throne, introduced this policy, which after- wards became very common in all the eastern countries. But it is a great mis- take, that a prince cannot descend from his grandeur, by a sort of familiarity, without debasing or lessening his greatness. Artaxerxes did not think so : and Plutarch observes that that "prince, and queen Statira his wife, took a plea- sure in being visible and easy of access to their people, a!id by so doing were but the more respected.* Among the Persians, no subject whatever was allowed appear in the kiag's presence without prostrating himself before him : and this law, which Sene- ca, with good reason, calls a Persian slavery, Persicam serviiute/n, ext<^'nded also to foreigners.! We shall find afterwards, that several Grecians refused to comply with it, looking upon such a ceremony as derogatory to men l)orn and bred in the bosom of liberty. Some of them, less scrupulous, did submit to it, but not without great reluctancy ; and we are told, that one of them, in order to cover the shame of such a servile prostration, purposely let fall his ring, when he came near the king, that he might have occasion to bend his body on another account.^ But it would have been criminal for any of the natives of the country to hesitate or deliberate about a homage which the king exacted from them with the utmost rigour. What the Scripkire relates of two sovereigns,§ on one hand, one of whom commanded all his subjects, on pain of death, to prostrate themselves before his image; and the other, on the same penalty, suspended all acts of religion, with regard to the gods in general, except to himself only • and on the other hand, of the ready and blind obedience of the whole city ol Babylon, who ran altogether, upon the first signal, to bend the knee before the idol, and to invoke the king, exclusively of all the powers of heaven : all this shows to what an extravagant excess the eastern kings carried their pride, and the people their flattery and servitude. So great was the distance between the Persian king and his subjects that the latter, of whatever rank or quality, whether satraps, governors, near rela- tions, or even brothers to the king, were only looked upon as slaves ; Avhereas the king himself w^as always considered, not only as their sovereign lord and absolute master, but as a kind of divinity. In a w^ord, the peculiar character of the Asiatics, and the Persians more particularly than any other, was servi- tude and slavery ; II which made Cicero say, that the despotic power, which some were endeavouring to establish in the Roman commonwealth, would be an insupportable yoke, not only to a Roman, but even to a Persian. IF It was therefore this arrogant haughtiness of the princes, on the one hand, and this abject submission of the people on the other, w4iich, according to Plato, were the principal causes of the ruin of the Persian empire, by dissolv- ing all the ties wherewith a king is united to his subjects, and the subjects to (heir king.** Such a haughtiness extinguishes all affection and humanity in the former ; and such an abject state of slavery, leaves the people neither courage, zeal, nor gratitude. The Persian kings governed and commanded only by threats and menaces, and the subjects neither obeyed nor marched, but with cinwillingness and reluctance. This is the idea Xerxes himself gives us of them, in Herodotus, where that prince is represented as wondeiing how the Grecians, who were a free people, could go to battle with a good will and in- clination. How could any thing great or noble be expected from men so dis- * In Artax. p. 1013. \ yTdlian. 1. i. Var. Hist, c.xxi. I Plut. in Apoptb. p. 2I». t Lib. 111. de Bencf. c. 12. et lib. iii. de Ira. c. 17. ^ Nebuchadnezzar, Dan. c. iii. and Darius the Mede, Dan. c. vl ^ Lib. X. Epist. ad At^^ ** Lib. iii. de Leu. p. 6W 404 MANNERS OF THR pirited and depressed by slavery, as the Persians were, and reduced tc such an abject servitude 1 which, to use the words of Longinus, is a kind of imprison- ment, wherein a man's soul may be said, in some sort, to grow little and con- tracted !* I am unwilling to say it, but 1 do not know, whether the great Cyrus himself did not contribute to introduce among the Persians, both that extravagant pride in their kings, and that abject submission and flattery in the people. It was in that pompous ceremony, which I have several times mentioned, that the Per- sians, till then very jealous of their liberty, and very far from being inclined to make a shameful prostitution of it by any mean behaviour or servile complian- ces, first bent the knee before their prince, and stooped to a posture of adora- tfbn. Nor was this an effect of chance ; for Xenophon intimates cl iarly enough, tha? Cyrus, who desii ed to have that homage paid him, had appointed persons on purpose to begin ^t ; whose example was accordingly followed by the mul titude, and by the Persians, as well as the other nations.) In these little tricks and stratagems, we no longer discern that nobleness and greatness of soul, whiqh had ever been conspicuous in that prince till this occasion ; and I should be apt to thmk, that being arrived at the utmost pitch of glory and power, he could no longer resist those violent attacks, with which prosperity is always assaulting even the best of princes, Secundce res sapientum animos fatigaiit;\ and that at last pride and vanity, which are almost inseparable from sovereign power, forced him, and in a manner tore him from himself, and his own natural inclination : Vi dominationis convulsus et rnutatus.^ SECTION III. — THE WRONG EDUCATION OF THEIR PRINCES, ANOTHER CAUSE OF THE DECLENSION OF THE PERSIAN EMPIRE. It is Plato, still the prince of philosophers, who makes this reflection ; and we shall find, if we narrowly examine the fact in question, how solid andjudi cious it is, andh(. w inexcusable Cyrus's conduct was in this respect.il Never had any man more reason than Cyrus to be sensible, how highly ne- cessary a good education is to a young prince. He knew the whole value of it with regard to himself, and had found all the advantages of it b}^ his owr experience.il What he most earnestly recommended to his officers, in that fine discourse he made to them after the taking of Babylon, in order to exhort them to main- tain the glory and reputation they had acquired, was to educate their children ^ in the same manner as they knew they were educated in Persia, and to pre serve themselves in the practice of the same manners as were practised there. Would one believe, that a prince who spoke and thought in this manner, could ever have entirely neglected the education of his own children ? Yet this is what happened to Cyrus. Forgetting that he was a father, and employ- ing himself wholly about his conquests, he left that care entirely to women, tliat is, to princesses, brought up in a country where vanity, luxury, and vo- uptuousness, reigned in the highest degree ; for the queen his wife was oi Media. And in the same taste and manner were the two young princes Cam- byses and Smerdis educated. Nothing they asked was ever refused them ; nor were their desires only granted, but prevented. The great maxim wa?, that their attendants should cross them in nothing, never contradict them, noy ever make use of reproofs or remonstrances with them. No one opened his /nouth in their presence, but to praise and commend what they said and did. Every one cringed and stooped, and bent the knee before them ; and it was mought essential to their greatness, to place an infinite distance between them and the rest of mankind, as if they had been of a different species from them. It is Plato that informs us of all these particulars; for Xenophon, probably to gpare his hero, says not one word of the manner m which these princes wci« • Cap. XXXV. \ Tacit. Anp«.l. 1. vi. c. 46. t Cyrop. I. ii. p. $15. 11 Lib. iii. de he^. p. 694. 695. X Fallust. IT Cyrop '.. vii. p. 20^ ASSYRIANS. &c. 40A I- 'light up, though he gives us so ample an account of the education their fo. ,Aer. What surprises me the most is, that Cyrus did not, at least, take them alone w ith him in his last campaigns, in order to draw them out of that soft and ef- feminate course of life, and tc instruct them in the art of war, for they must have been of sufficient years ; but perhaps the women opposed his design, and overruled him. Whatever the obstacle was, the effect of the education of these princes was such as ought to be expe^^ed from it. Cambyses came out of that school, what he is represented in history, an obstinate and self-conceited prince, full of ar- rogance and vanity, abandoned tc the most scandalous excesses of drunkenness and debauchery, cruel and inhuman, even to the causing of his own brother to be murdered in conseauence of a dream ; in a word, a furious, frantic madman, who, by his ill conduct, brought the empire to the brink of destruction. His father, says Plato, left him at his death many vast provinces, immense riches, with innumerable forces by sea and land; but he had not given him the means of preserving them, oy teaching him the right use of such power. This philosopher makes the same reflection with regard to Darius and Xerxes. The former, not being rne son of a king, had not been brought up in the same effeminate manner as princes were, but ascended the throne with a long habit of industry, great temper and moderation, a courage little inferior to that of Cyrus, and by which he added to the empire almost as many provinces as the other had conquered. But he was no better a father than him, and reaped no benefit from the fault cf his predecessor, in neglecting the education of his children. Accordingly, his son Xerxes was little better than a second Cambyses. From all this, Plato, ^.fter having shown what numberless rocks and quick- sands, almost unavoidable, lie in the way of persons bred in the a ms of wealth and greatness, concludes, that one principal cause of the declension and ruin of the Persian empire, was the bad education of their princes ; because those first examples had an influence upon, and became a kind of rule to, a^l their succes- sors, under whom every thing still degenerated more and more, till at last their luxury exceeded all bounds and restraints. sec:. '>N IV. THEifl BREACH OF FAITH, OR WANT OF SINCERITY. We are informed by Xenophon, that one of the causes, both of the great corruption of manners among the Persians, and of the destruction of their em- pire, was their want of public faith.* Formerly, says he, the king, and those that governed under him, thought it an indispensable duty to keep their word, and inviolably to observe all treaties, into which they had entered with the solemnity of an oath, and that even with respect to those that had rendered themselves most unworthy of such treatment, through their perfidiousness and insincerity ; and it was by this true policy and prudent conduct that they gained the absolute confidence, ^th of iheir own subjects, and of their neighlinurs and allies. This is a very gr<=^^t encomium given by the historian to the Persians, which undoubtedly belongs to the reign of the great Cyrus ; though Xenophon applies it likewise to tha:": >f the younger Cyrus, whose grand maxim was^ as he tells us, never to violate his faith upon any pretence whatever, with regard either to any word he b-?.d given, any promise made, or any treaty he had concluded. These princes had a just idea of the regal dignity, and rightly judged, that if probity and truth were renounced by ihe rest of mankind, they ought to find a sanctuary in the heart of a king, who, being the bond and centre, as it were, of society, should also be the protector and avenger of plighted faitYi ; which is the very foundation whereon the other depends.! Such sentiments as these, so noble, and so worthy of persons born for govern- ment, did not last long. A false prudence, and a spurious, artificial policy, soon succeeded in their place. Instead of faith, probity, and true merit, says Xen- • Cyrop. 1. viii. p. 239. t De Exped. ^yu l.i.p. ?67 f ^ MANNERS OF THE ASSYRIANS, &e. ophoii,* which heretofore the prince used to cherish and distin^ish, all ih^^ cnief offices of the court began to be filled with those pretended zealous servants of the king, who sacrifice every thing to his humour and supposed interest \ who hold it as a maxim, that falsehood and deceit, perfidiousness and perjury, \i boldly and artfully put in practice, are the shortest and surest expedients for bringing about his enterprises and designs ; who lool^d upon a scrupulous ad- herence in a prince to his word, and to the engagements into which he has en- tered, as an effect of pusillanimity, incapacity, and want of understanding ; and whose opinion, in short, is, that a man is unqualified for government, if he does not prefer reasons and considerations of state before the exact observation of treaties, though concluded in ever so solemn and sacred a manner.! The Asiatic nations, continues Xenophon, soon imitated their prince, who became their example and instructer in double-dealing and treachery. They soon gave themselves up to violence, injustice, and impiety ; and from thence proceeds that strange alteration and difference we find in their manners, as also the contempt they conceived for their sovereigns, which is both the natural consequence and punishment of the little regard princes pay to the most sacred and awful solemnities of religion. Surely the oath by which treaties are sealed and ratified, and the Deity Drought in, not only as present, but as guarantee of the conditions stipulated, is a most sacred and august ceremony, very proper for the subjecting of earthly princes to the Supreme Judge of heaven and earth, who alone is qualified to judge them, and for the keeping all human majesty within the bounds of its duty, by making it appear before the majesty of God, in respect of which it is as nothing. Now, if princes will teach their people not to stand in fear of the Supreme Being, how will they be able to secure their respect and reverence to themselves ? When once that fear comes to be distinguished in the subject as well as in the prince, what will become of fidelity and obedience, and on what foundations shall the throne be supported ? Cyrus had good reason to say, that he looked upon none as good servants and faithful subjects, but such as had a sense of religion, and a reverence for the Deity : nor is it at all astonish- ing that the contempt which an impious prince, who has no regard to the sanc- tity of oaths, shows of God and religion, should shake the very foundations of the firmest and best-established empires, and sooner or later occasion their jtter destruction.J Kings, says Plutarch, when any revolution happens in their do- mii bear the sight of Argos, where he committed that involuntary murder, with- drew to Mycenae, and there fixed the seat of his kingdom. Mycen^. Perseus then translated the seat of the kingdom from Argos to Mycenfe. He left several sons behind him ; among others, Alcaeus, Sthenelus, •md Electryon. Alcaeus was the father of Amphitryon, Sthenelus of Furys- theus, and Electryon of Alcmena. Amphitryon married Alcmena, upon whom Jupiter begat Hercules. Eurystheus and Hercules came into the world the same day ; but as the birth of the former was, by Juno's management antecedent to that of the latter, Hercules was forced to be subject to him, and was obliged, by his order, to undertake the twelve labours, so celebrated in fable. The kings who reigned at Mycenae after Perseus, were, Electryon, Sthe- nelus, and Eurystheus. The last, after the death of Hercules, declared open war against his descendants, apprehending they might some time or other at- tempt to dethrone him, which, as it happened, was done by the Heraclidae ; for having killed Eurystheus in battle, they entered victorious into Peloponnesus, and made themselves masters of the country. But, as this happened before the time determined by fate, a plague ensued, which, with the direction of an oracle, obliged them to quit the country. Three years after this, being deceived by the ambiguous expression of the oracle, they made a second at- tempt, v/hich likewise proved fruitless. This was about twenty years before the taking of Troy. Atreus, the son of Pelops, uncle by the mother's side to Eurystheus, suc- ceeded the latter. And in this manner the crown came to the oescendants of Pelops, from whom Peloponnesus, which before was called Apia, derived its name. The bloody hatred of two brothers, Atreus and Thyestes, is known to all the world. Plisthenes, the son of Atreus, succeeded his father in the kingdom oi Mycenae, which he left to his son Agamemnon, who was succeeded by his son Orestes. The kingdom of Mycenae was filled with enormous and horrible crimes, from the time it came into the family of Pelops. Tisamenes and Penthilus, sons of Orestes, reigned after their father, and were at last driven out of Peloponnesus by the Heraclidae. Athens.! Cecrops, a native of Egypt, was the founder of this kingdom. Having settled In Attica, he divided all the country subject to him into twelve districts. He also established the Areopagus. This august tribunal, in the reign of his successor Cranaus, -idjudged the famous dispute between Neptune and Mars. In this time happened Deuca- lion's flood. The deluge of Ogyges in Attica was much more ancient, befrig a thousand and twenty years before the first Olympiad, and consequently in flje Tear of the world 2^08. Amphictyon, the third king of Athens, procured a confederacy between melve nations, v,hicL assembled twice a year at Thermopylae, there to offer their conwnon sacrifices, and to consult together upon their affairs in general, as also upon the affairs of each nation in particular. This convention was caUed the Assembly of the Amphictyons. The ref^n of Erectheus is remarkable for the arrival of Ceres in Attica, after the rape of her daughter Proserpine, as also for the institution of the mysteries at Eleusis. ♦ A. M, 2530. Ant. J. C. 1474. MlflTORV OF GREECE. 41S , The reign ot ^Eoeus, the son of Pandion, is the most illustrious period of tb€ tistory of the heroes.* In his time are placed the expedition of the Ar«:onaut«3 ; the celebrated labours of Hercules ; the war of Minos, second king of Ciete, against the Athenians ; the story of Theseus and Ariadne. Theseus succeeded his father ^geus. Cecrops had divided Attica into twelve boroughs, or districts, separated from each other. Theseus brought the people to understand the advantages of a common government, and united the twelve boroughs into one city, or body politic, in which the whole authority was united- CoDRU s was the last king of Athens ; he devoted himself to death for his people. After him the title of king was extinguished among the Athenians.! Medon, his son, was set at the head of the commonwealth with the title of archon, that m to say, president or governor. The first archons were for life ; but the Athe- nians, growing weary of a government which they still thought bore too great resemblance to royal power, made their archons elective every ten years, and at last reduced il to an annual office. Thebes.J Cadmus, who came by sea from the coast of Phoenicia, that is. from about Tyre and Sidon, seized upon that part of the country which was afterwards called Boeotia. He built there the city of Thebes, or at least a cita- del, which from his own name he called Cadmaea, and there fixed the seat of his power and dominion. The fatal misfortune of ljaius,one of his successors, and of Jocasta his wife, of GEdipus their son, of Eteocles and Polynices, who were born of the incestu- ous maft-riage of Jocasta with (Edipus, have furnished ample matter for fabulous narration and theatrical representations. Sparta, or LACEOiEMON, It is supposed that Lelex, the first king of Laco- nia, began his reign about one thousand five hundred and sixteen years before the Christian era. Tyndarus, the ninth kingof Lacedaemon, had, by Leda, Castor '^nd Pollux, who were twins, besides Helena, and Clytemnestra, the wife of Agamemnon, king of Mycenae. Having survived his two sons, the twins, he began to think of choosing a successor, by seeking a husband for his daughter Helena. Ail the pretenders to this princess bound themselves by oath to abide by, and en- tirely submit to the choice which the lady herself should make, who determined in favour of Menelaus. She had not lived above three years with her husband, before she was carried off by Alexander or Paris, son of Priam, king of the Trojans, which rape was the cause of the Trojan war. Greece did not pro- perly begin to know or experience her united strength, till the famous siege of that city, where Achilles, the Ajaxes, Nestor, and Ulysses, gave Asia s'lfficient reasons to forebode her future subjection to their posterity. The Greeks took Troy after a siege of ten years, much about the time that Jephtha governed the people of God, that is, according to Bishop Usher, in the year of the world 2820, and 1184 before Jesus Christ. This epoch is famous in history, and ihould be carefully remembered, as well as that of the Olympiads. An Olympiad is the revolution of four complete years from one celebration *>f the Olympic games to another. We shall elsewhere give an account of the institution of these games, which were celebrated every four years, near the t3wn of Pisa, otherwise called Olympia. The common era of the Olympiads begins in the summer of the year cf the world 3228, seven hundred and seventy-six years before Jesus Christ, fi-om the fames in which Chorebus won the prize in the foot-race. Eighty years after the taking of Troy, the Heraclidae re-entered the Pelopon* nesus, and seized Lacedaemon, where two brothers, Eurysthenes and Procles. vns of Aristodemus, began to reign together, and from their time the sceptre llways continued jointly in the hands of the descendants of those two families. Many years after this, Lycurgus instituted that body of laws for the Spartah « A. M. 27J0. Af-.». J. C. 123A. t A. M. 2034. Ant. J C. 1070. , A. M. 3549 Ant. J. C. 1455- 4!4 HISTORY OF GREECE. State, which rendered both the legislature and the republic so famous in bin* oiy. I shall speak of them at lai^e in the sequel. Corinth.* Corinth began later than the other cities I have been speakirtf f to be governed by particular kings. It was at first subject to Inose of Argos and Mycenae ; at last Sisyphus, the son of iEolus,made himself master of it. But his descendants were dispossessed of the throne by the HeraclideB, about one hundred and ten years after the siege of Troy. The regal power after this came to the descendants of Bacchis, under whom the monarchy was changed into an aristocracy, that is, the reins of the govern- ment weie in the hands of the elders, who annually chose from among them- selves a chief magistrate, whom they called Prytanis. At last Cypselus having gained the people, usurped t\yc p. 52. ^ Idem, p. 50. Idem, iostitut. Lacon. p. 237. »♦ Man.d'Ktui Vol. HI. p. 471. If Cic. Tiisr.. Q.««i«t. lib. H. n. 34. XX Ode vii. lib. t IIISTOEY OF GREfiCK. The most usual occupation of the Lacedaemonians was hunting-, and othei bodily exercises. They were forbid to exercise any mechanic art. The ElotaCj who were a sort of slaves, tilled their land for them, for which they paid them a certain revenue * Lycurgus would have his citizens erjoy a great deal of leisure : they had large common halls, where the people used to meet to converse together : and tliough their discourses chiefly turned upon grave and serious topics, yet they seasoned them with a mixture of wit and facetious humour, both agreeable and instructive. They passed little of their time alone, being accustomed to live like bees always together, always about their chiefs and leaders. The lovecf their country and of the public good was their predominant passion : they did not imagine they belonged to themselves, but to their country. Pedaretua having missed the honour of being chosen one of the three hundred who had a certain rank of distinction in the city, went home extremely pleased and satis- fied, saying, he was overjoyed there were three hundred men in Sparta mor«i honourable and wonny than himself." f At Sparta every thing tended to inspire the love of virtue, and the hatred of vice ; the actions of the citizens, their conversations, public monuments, and inscriptions. It was hard for men brought up in the midst of so many living precepts and examples, not to become virtuous, as far as heathens were capable of virtue. It was to preserve these happy dispositions, that Lycurgus did not allow all sorts of persons to travel, lest they should bring home foreign manners, and return infected with the licentious customs of other countries, which would necessarily create, in a little time, an aversion for the life and maxims of Lace- daemon. On the other hand, he would suffer no strangers to remain in the city, who did not come thither to some useful and profitable end, but out of mere curiosity ; being afraid they should bring along with them the defects and vices? of their own countries ; and being persuaded, at the same time, that it was more important and necessary to shut the gates of the town against depraved and corrupt manners, than against infectious distempers. Properly speaking, the very trade and business of the Lacedaemonians was war : every thing with them tended that way : arms were their only exercise and employment : their life was much less hard and austere in the camp, than in the city ; and they were the only people in the world, to whom the time of war was a time of ease and refreshment, because then the reins of that strict and severe discipline, which prevailed at Sparta, were somewhat relaxed, and the men were indulged in a little more liberty. J With them the first and most inviolable law of war, as Demaratus told Xerxes, was never to fly, or turn their backs, whatever superi- ority of numbers the enemy's army might consist of; never to quit their post ; never to deliver up their arms; in a word, either to conquer or to d'e on the spot.§ This maxim was so important and essential in their opinion, that when the poet Archilochus came to Sparta, they obliged him to leave their city im- mediately ; because they understood, that, in one of his poems, he had said. It was better for a man to throw down his arms, than to expose himself to be killed."|| Hence it is, that a mother recommended to her son, who was going to make a campaign, that he should return either with or upon his shield ;ir and that another, hearing that her son was killed in fighting for his country, answered very coldly, " 1 brought him into the w^orld for no other end."** This humour was general among the Lacedaemonians. After the famous batde of Leuctra, which was so fatal to the Spartans, the parents of those that died in the action congratulated each other upon it, and went to the temples to thank the gods that their children had done their duty ; whereas the relations of those wha • Plut. In Vil. Lyc. p. 54. f Idem, p. 55. + Idem, p. 56. ( Herod. 1. vii. cap. t04h |1 Plut. in Lacon. Institut. p. 239. IT *AXXn TTfoo-ava^iiSaa tco 7rai5l Triv Aarrlda, xat rra^axeKeuo^'ivri. TtKvov, (tCpn) n tolv, A IttI rai — f 'ut. io Lacon. Apophtheg-m. p. 241. Sometimet they that were ilain were brought home jpon their thielJU Cic. 1. i. Tuf^. Q,u«st. a. 102. Pint, iu Vit. Ages. p. 612. HISTOKY OF GREECE. 4S3 •urvived the defeat, were inconsolable. If any of the Spartans fled in battle, they were dishonoured and disgraced for ever. They were not only excluded .Tom all posts and employments in the state, from ail assemblies and public diversions ; but it was thought scandalous to make any alliances with them oy marriage : and a thousand affronts and insults were publicly offered them *^th imounity. The Spartans never went to fight without first imploring the help of the i^ods by public sacrifices and prayers ; and, when that was done, they marched itgainst the enemy with a perfect confidence and expectation of success, as being assured of the divine protection ; and to make use of Plutarch's expres- iion. As if God were present with, and fought for them." ws topGeou aviina^o^Tos. When they had broken and routed their enemy's forces, they never pursued hem farther than was necessary to make themselves sure of the victory ; after which they retired, as thinking it neither glorious, nor worthy of Greece, to out in pieces and destroy an enemy that yielded and fled. And this proved as useful as honourable to the Spartans ; for their enemies, knowing that all who resisted them were put to the sword, and that they spared none but those who fled, generally chose rather to fly than to resist.* When the first institutions of Lycurgus were received and confirmed by practice, and the form of government he had established, seemed strong and vigorous enough to support itself; as Plato says of God, that after he had finished the creation of the world, he rejoiced when he saw it revolve and per- form its first motions with so much justness and harmony ;t so the Spartan le- gislator, pleased with the greatness and beauty of his laws, felt his joy and satisfaction redouble, when he saw them, as it were, walk alone, and go for vv-^rd so happily. J But desiring, as far as depended on human prudence, to render them im- mortal and unchangeable, he signified to the people, that there was still one point remaining to be performed, the most essential and important of all, about which he wofild go and consult the oracle of Apollo ; and in the mean time he made them all take an oath, that till his return they would inviolably main- tain the idrm of government which he had established. When he was arrived at Delphos, he consulted the god, to know whether the laws he had made were good, and sufficient to render the Lacedaemonians happy and virtu- ous. The priestess answered, that nothing was wanting to his laws ; and that, as long as Sparta observed them, she w^ould be the most glorious and happy city in the world. Lycurgus sent this answer to Sparta ; and then thinking he had fulfilled his ministry, he voluntarily died at Uelphos, by abstaining from all manner of sustenance. His idea was, that even the death of great per- sons and statesmen should not be useless and unprofitable to the state, but a kind of supplement to their ministry, and one of their most important actions, which ofj9^ht to do them as much or more honour than all the rest. He there- fore thought, that in dying thus he should crown and complete all the services which he had rendered his fellow-citizens during his life ; since his death would engage them to a perpetual observance of his institutions, wiiich they nad sworn to maintain inviolably till his return. Although I represent the sentiments of Lycui^us upon his own death, in the %ht wherein Plutarch has transmitted them to us^I am very far from appitjvinej ihem ; and I make the same declaration with respect to several other lacts of ;he like nature, which I sometimes relate without making any reflecticjns upon rhern, though I think them very unworthy of approbation. The pretended wise men of the heathens had, as well concerning this article as several others, but very faint and imperfect ideas ; or, to speak more properly, re- mained in great darkness and error. They laid down this admirable princi- * Plut. in Vit. Lycurg-. p. 54. \ This passage of Plato it in his Timasus, and gives us reason to believe this philosopher had read wlia Vloies says of God, whsu h4 created the world ; Vidit Deus cunota quae fecerat, et erajit valde bona S^Q i SI i Idem. y. 57. 424 HISTORY 0¥ GREECE. pie, wtoich we meet with in many of their writings, that man, placed in th« world as in a certain.post by his general, cannot abandon it without the ex- press command of him upon whom he depends, that is, of God himself. At other times, they looked upon man as a criminal condemned to a melancholy f)rison, from whence, indeed, he might desire to be released, but could not awfully auempt to be so, but by the course of justice, and the order of the magistrate ; and not by breaking his chains, and forcing the gates of his pri- son.* Tnese ideas are beautiful, because they are true ; but the appiica" tion they made of them was wrong, namely, as they took that for an express order of the Deity, which was the pure effect of their own weakness or pride, by which they were led to commit suicide, either that they might deliver them- selves from the pains or troubles of this life, or immortalize their names, as was the case with Lycurgus, Cato, and a number of others. REFLECTIONS UPON THE GOVERNMENT OF SPARTA, AMD UPON THE LAWS OF LYCURGUS. I. THINGS COMMENDABLE IN THE LAWS OF LYCURGUS. There must needs have been, to judge only by the event, a great fund wisdom and prudence in the laws of Lycurgus ; since, as long as they were ob- served in Sparta, which was above five hundred years, it was a most flourishing and powerful city. It was not so much, says Plutarch, speaking of the law>' of Sparta, the government and polity of a city, as the conduct and regular be- haviour of a wise man, who passes his whole life in the exercise of virtue : oi rather, continues the same author, as the poets .feign, that Hercules, only with his lion's skin and club, went from country to country to free the world of rob- bers and tyrants ; so Sparta, with a slip of parchment! and an old coat, gave laws to all Greece, which willingly submitted to her dominion ; suppressed ty- rannies and unjust authority in cities ; put an end to wars as she thought fit, and appeased insurrection ; and all this generally without moving a shield or a sword, and only by sending a simple ambassador among them, who no sooner appeared, than all the people submitted, and flocked about him like so many bees about their queen : so much respect did the justice and good government of this city imprint upon the minds of all their neighbours. 1. THE NATURE OF THE SPARTAN GOVERNMENT. We find at the end of Lycurgus's life a single reflection made by Plutarch, which of itself (Comprehends a great encomium upon that legislator. He there says, that Plato, Diogenes, Zeno, and all those who have treated of the estab - lishment of a political state or government, took their plans from the republic of Lycuigujj , with this difference, that they confined themselves wholly to wordi and theory ; but Lycurgus, without dwelling upon ideas and theoretical sys- tems, did reciiiy and effectually institute an inimitable polity, and form a whole city of ph'iioouphers. In order lo succeed in this undertaking, and to establish the most perfect form of a commonwealth that could be, he melted down, as it were, and blended tc^ether wiiaV he found best in every kind of government, or mo5t conducive * Vetat Pythaaroras, injussu imperatorls, id est, Dei, de praesidio et statione vilae decedcre. — Cic. d« ^pnect. n. 73. Cato sic abiit e vita» ut causam moriendi nactum se esse gauderet. Vetat enim dominans ille,in nobit Deus injussu hip'' nos suo deinigrare. Ciftn vero causam justam Deus ipse dederit, ut tunc Socrati, nunc Catoni, saepe mums ; ne ille, medius fidius, vir sapiens, lastus ex his tenebris in lucem illam excesserit. Neo tamcn ilia viactta ca.rceris ruperit ; lee^es enim vetant : scd, tanquam a ma«:istratu aijt,ab aliqua potestat* lejitima, sic a I>/> -vocatiis atque cmissus, exierit. — Id. L Tusc. Q,uaest. n. 74. f This was what the Spartans called a scytale, a thong' of leather or parchment, which they twisteJ round a staff in such a manner, that there was no vacancy or void space left upon it. They wrote iipo« lliis thon^'.and vrii{«i 'hey had written they untwisted it, and sent it to the g-eneral forwhom it was iDteDded^ TJiis g'ereral, who W-id another stick of the same size with that on which the thonsf was twisted and writ ton upon, wrapt it round that staff in the same manner, and, by that means, found out the connexion and the right placing of the letters, which otherwise were so displaced •nd out of order, that there was do m- t*bility of tfaeirbeing;' read.--PJijt. in Vil. Lyc. p. 444. HISTORY OF GREECE. to the public good ; thus tempering one species with another, and balancing the inconveniences to which each of them in particular is subject, with the advantages that result from their being united together. Sparta had something of the raonarchial form of government, in the authority of her kings. The council of thirty, otherwise called the senate, was a true aristocracy ; and the power vested in the people of nominating the senators, and of giving sanction to the laws, resembled a democratical government. The institution of the Ephori afterwards served to rectify what was amiss in those previous estab- lishments, and to supply what was defective. Plato, in more places than one, admires the wisdom of Lycurgus in his institution of the senate, which was equally advantageous both to the king and people ; because by this means the law became the only supreme ruler of the kings, and the kings never became tyrants over the law.* 2. EQUAL DIVISION OF THE LANDS : GOLD AND SILVER BANISHED FROM SPARTA. The design formed by Lycurgus of making an equal distribution of the lands among the citizens, and of entirely banishing from Sparta all luxury, avarice, law-suits, and dissensions, by abolishing the use of gold and silver, would ap pear to us a scheme of a commonwealth finely conceived for speculation, but utterly incapable of execution, did not history assure us, that Sparta actually subsisted in that condition for many ages. When I place the transaction I am now speaking of among the laudable parts of L^ycurgus's laws, I do not pretend it to be absolutely unexceptionable ; for I think it can scarcely be reconciled with that general law of nature, which forbids the taking away one man's property to give it to another ; and yet this is what was really done upon this occasion. Therefore in this affair of di- viding the lands, I consider only so much of it as was truly commendable in itself, and worthy of admiration. Can we possibly conceive, that a man could persuade the richest and most opulent inhabitants of a city, to resign all their revenues and estates, in order to level and confound themselves with the poorest of the people ; to subject themselves to a new way of living, both severe in itself, and full of restraint ; in a word, to debar themselves of the use of every thing, wherein the happiness and comfort of life is thought to consist? And yet this is what Lycui^us ac- tually effected in Sparta. Such an institution as this would have been less wonderful, had it subsisted only durin^^ the life of the legislator ; but we know that it lasted many ages after his decease. Xenophon, in the encomium he has left us of Agesilaus, and Ci- cero, in one of his orations, observed, that Lacedaemon was the only city in the world that preserved her discipline and laws for so considerable a term of years unaltered and inviolate. Soli, said the latter, speaking of the Lacedae- monians, toto orhe terraruin septingentos jam annos amplius unis morihus et nunquam mutatis legibus viviint.] I believe that though in Cicero's time the discipline of Sparta, as well as her power, was very much relaxed and dimin- ished, yet, however, all historians agree, that it was maintained in all * 6 vigour till the reign of Agis, under whom Lysander, though incapable of bein^ blinded or corrupted with gold, filled his country with luxury and the love of riches, hy bringing into it immense sums of gold and silver, which were the fruits of hia victories, and thereby subverting the laws of Lycui^us. But the introduction of gold and silver money was not the first wound given })y the Lacedaemonians to the institutions of the legislator. It was the conse- quence of the violation of another law still more fundamental. Ambition was tfie vice that preceded, and made way for avarice. The desire of conquests drew on tha'. of riches, without which they could not propose to extend their dominion. The main design of Lycurgus, in the establishing his laws, and es- » Wc'poi izr€i<5n x6yjoy i7<-v:Tj ' eC-s tCSv dv5$»ajrcov, hx av9ocd7roi rofawoi ic.UCOv^Plat. Episl. vii t Pro. Fiac. num. Ixlii. HWruRY OF GREECK. Pecially that which prohibited the use of gold and silver, was, as Polybius anJ lutarch have judiciously observed, to curb and restrain the ambition of the citizens ; to disable them from making conquests, and in a ma.mer to force their, to confine themselves within the narrow bounds of their own country, withou/' carrying their views and pretensions any farther.'^ Indeed, the government which he established was sufficient to defend the frontiers of Sparta, but was not calculated for elevating her to a dominion over other oities. The design, then, of Lycurgus, was not to make the Spartans conquerors. f To remove such thoughts from his fellow-citizens, he expressly forbade them, though they inhabited a country surrounded with the sea, to meddle in mari- time affairs ; to have any fleets, or ever to fight upon the sea. They were re- ligious observers of this prohibition for many ages, and even till the defeat of Xerxes : but upon that occasion they began to think of making themselvesi masters at sea, that they might be able to keep that formidable enemy at the greater distance. But having soon perceived, that these maritime, remote com- mands, corrupted the manners of their generals, they laid that project aside without any difficulty, as we shall observe when we come to speak of king Pausanias. When Lycurgus armed his fellow-citizens with shields and lances, it was not to enable them to commit wrongs and outrages with impunity, but only to de- fend themselves against the invasions and injuries of others. He made them indeed a nation of warriors and soldiers : but it was only that under the shadow of their arms they might live in liberty, moderation, justice, union, and peace, oy being content with their own territories, without usurping those of others, and by being persuaded, that no city or state, any more than a single person, can ever hope for solid and lasting happiness, but from virtue only.j; Men of a depraved taste, says Plutarch farther, on the same subject, who think nothing so desirable as riches, and a large extent of dominion, may give preference to those vast empires that have subdued and enslaved the world by violence ; but Lycurgus was convinced, that a city had occasion for nothing of that kind, in order to be happy. His policy, which has justly been the admiration of all ages, had no farther views, than to establish equity, moderation, liberty, and peace : and was an enemy to all injustice, violence, and ambition, and the pas- sion oi reigning and extending the bounds of the Spartan commonwealth. § Such reflections as ihese, which Plutarch agreeably intersperses in his Lives, and in which their greatest and most essential beauties consist, are of infinite use towards the giving us true ideas of things, and making us understand - wherein consists the solid and true glory of a state, that is really happy ; aa also to correct those false ideas we are apt to form of the vain greatness of those empires which have swallowed up kingdoms, and of those celebrated con- querors who owe all their fame and grandeur to violence and usurpation. 3. THE EXCELLENT EDUCATION OF THEIR YOUTH. The long duration of the laws established by Lycurgus, is certainly very wonderful : but the means he made use of to succeed therein, are no less wor- thy of admiration. The principal of these was the eitraordinary care he took to have the Spartan youth brought up in an exact and severe discipline : for, as Plutarch observes, the religious obligation of an oath, which he exacted from the citizens, would have been a feeble tie, had he not by education infused his laws, as it were, into the minds and manners of the children, and made them guck in, almost with their mothers' milk, an affection for his institutions. This was the reason why his principal ordinances subsisted above five hundred years, naving sunk into the very temper and hearts of the people like a strong ana ^ood die, that penetrates thoroughly.il Cicero makes the same remark, ,^nd ascribes the courage and virtue of the Spartans, not so much to their own natural N ,. — . Polyb. I. vi. p. 491. t P'"^- Moribus Laced, p. 239. J Pint, in Vit. Lycurg. 5#. i<}em, t)t in Vit. Ag-esil. p. 614. )| "Qcrjff? palpni dxff'tTJi xai tcrxu?"f xaTa^l'autvTij.— Plut. ai- IflfiWuRY OP OREECR. disposition, as to their excellent education : Cujus civiiatis spectata ac ^ohhtata virtus^ non solum natura corrolorata, verum etiam dua'plina putatur.'^ A il this shows of what importance it is to a state, to take care that their youth be brouglit up in a manner proper to inspire them with a love for the laws of their country. The great maxim of Lycurgus, which Aristotle repeats in express terms, was that as children belong to the state, their education ought to be directed by the state, and the views and interests of the state only considered tiiereinj It was for this reason he desired they should be educated all in common, and not left to the humour and caprice of their parents, who generally, through a and blind indulgence, and a mistaken tenderness, enervate at once noth the bodies and minds of their children. At Sparta, from their tenderest years, they were inured to labour and fatigue, by the exercises of hunting and racing, and accustomed betimes to endure hunger and thirst, heat and cold ; and, what it is difficult to make motherf^ believe, all these hard and laborious exercises tended to promote their health, and make their constitutions the more vigorous and ro- bust, able to bear the hardships and fatigues of war, for which they were ali designed from their cradles. 4. OBEDIENCE. But the most excellent thing in the Spartan education, was its teaching yoir#ip people so perfectly how to obey. It was from hence the poet ►'^imonides givei that city such a magnificent epithet, which denotes, that they alone knew how to subdue the passions of men, and to render them tractable and submissive to law^s, as horses are taught to obey the spur and the bridle, by being broken and managed while they are young.f For this reason, Agesilaus advised Xeno- pbon to send his children to Sparta, that they might learn there the noblesi and greatest of all sciences, that is, how to command and how to obey.§ 5. RESPECT TOV^TARDS THE AGED. One of the lessons most frequently and strongly inculcated upon the Lace da^monian youth, was, to bear a great reverence and respect to old men, and to give them proofs of it upon all occasions, by saluting them, by making way for them, and by giving them place in the streets, by rising up to show them honour in all companies and public assemblies ; but above all, by receiving their advice, and even their reproofs, with docility and submission. |1 By these characteristics a Lacedseinonian was known wherever he went; if he had !f*e- haved otherwise, it would have been looked upon as a reproach to himself, and a dishonour to his country. An old man of Athens going into a theatre once to see a play, none of his own countrymen offered him a seat ; but when he came near the place where the Spartan ambassadors and the gentlemen of their retinue were sitting they all rose up out of reverence to his age, and seated him in the midst of them. Lysander, therefore, had reason to say, that old age had no where so honourable an abode as in Sparta; and that it wa« an agreeable tning to grow old in that city. IF II. DEFECTS IN THE LAWS OF LYCURGUS, In order to perceive the defects in the laws oi Lycurgus, we have only to compare them with those of Moses, which we know were dictated by more 'than human wisdom. But my design in this place is not to enter into an exact examination of the particulars, w^herein the laws and institutions of L3xui^us are faulty ; I shall content myself with making some slight reflectioiis only, which probably may have already occurred to the reader in the perusal of those ordinances, among which there are some with w4iich he will have been justly offended. » Oral, pro Flac. n. G8. f Polyb. 1. viii. Politic. X Aa|aa(n'M§f orof, that is to say, Tamer of «>ea, } Ma^Ticrouivoj TtX)V]ia9T|jx6.TWv k6.KKi7ov, a^xe^ai xa\ ^jx^'^- II P'ut- Lacon. Institut. p. 237 IT Lysandrum Lacedaemonium dicere aiunt soiituni, Lacedremone esse honestissimum domicilium ■ectntii — Cic de Sen. n. ^3. "Ev Aax£jai]iovi xa^Aicra 7Ti?u)cri. — Plut. in Mor o. 428 HISTORY OF GREECE K THE CHOICE MADE OF THE CHILDREN THAT WERE ElVHER Tt B£ SRQVtinl UP OR EXPOSED. To begin, for instance, with that ordinance relating to the choi e tbey made of theii children, which of them were to be brought up, and wh.»c \ exposed to perish ; who would not be shocked at the unjust and inhuman cu torn of pro- nouncing sentence of death upon all such infants as had the misf. rtune to be born with a constitution that appeared too weak to undergo the atigues and exercises to which the commonwealth destined all her subjects? 1. it then im- possible, and without example, that children, who are tender an d weak in their infancy, should ever alter as they grow up, and become iii time of a robust and Vigorous constitution ? Or, suppose it was so, can a rii m no way serve his country but by the strength of his body ? Is there no acc )unt to be made of his wisdom, prudeno^, counsel, generosity, courage, magnanimity, and, in a word, of all the qualities that depend upon the mind and the intel- lectual faculties ? Omnino illud honestttm quod ex animo excelso rrui '^ni/icogue gucerlmus, animi efflcihir, non corporis viribus,^ Did Lycurgus him .5.3lf render [ess service, or do less honour to Sparta, by establishing his laws tlian the greatest generals did by their victories ? Agesilaus was of so small n stature, and so mean a figure, that at the first sight of him the Egyptians could not help laughing ; and yet, small as he was, he made the great king i f Persia tremble upon the throne of half the world. But, what is yet stronger than all I have said, has any other person i right or power over the lives of men, than he from whom they received them, ^r^en God himself? And does not a legislaior visibly usurp the authority of God, when- ever he arrogates to himself such a power without his commission ? I'i a^ pre- cept of the decalogue, which was only a renovation of the law of natu t*. Thou shall not A'zV/, universally condemns all those among the ancients, who i ii:<"^ined they had a power of life and death over their slaves, and even over then own children. 2. THEIR CARE CONFINED ONLY TO THE BODY. I The great defect in the laws of Lycurgus, as Plato and Aristotle ha7*» ob- served, is, that they only tended to form a warlike and martial people. J Ji that legislator's thoughts seemed wholly bent upon, was the means of strengtl^t ling the bodies of the people without any regard to the cultivation of their fti.rk^s. Why should he banish from his commonwealth all arts and sciences, viiii^h, Desides many other advantages, have this most happy effect, that they i often our manners, polish our understandings, improve the heart, and rende:* o ir behaviour civil, courteous, gentle, and obliging ; such, in a word, as qu&Iiiies us for company and society, and makes the ordinary intercourse of life a(:iec- able ?t Hence, it came to pass, that there was a degree of roughness an \ austerity in the temper and behaviour of the Spartans, and many times ovei something of ferocity ; a failing that proceeded chiefly from their educaiton and that rendered them disagreeable and ofFeasive to all their allies. 3. THEIR BARBAROUS CRUELTY TOWARDS THEIR CHILDREN. It was an excellent practice in Sparta, to accustom their youth betimes t suffer heat and cold, hunger and thirst, and by many severe and laborious ex ercises to bring the body into subjection to reason, whose faithful and diligen minister it ought to be in the execution of all her orders and injunctions ; whicl it can never do, if it be not able to undergo all sorts of hardships and fatigue.i.J But was it rational in them to carry their severities so far, as the inhuman treatment we have mentioned ? And was it not utterly barbarous and broital is * Cicer. 1. i. de Offic. n. 79. Idem, n. 76. t Ornnt'S fvrtos quibus astas pnenlis ad hunianitatein ir/ormari solct. — Cic. Orat. pro Arch, j Kxcrc'-.rK'uni corpu?, el ita arficiendum est, nt obe.'^t consilio ralioniqiie possit in exequendit negotJ./ 4t'' hr.r-' ( W-rando.— Lib. i. dr. Olfic. n 7«. rnfiTORv or Greece. 429 ihe fatli«rs nd mothers, to see the blood trickling Irom the wounds of their children, nay, even to see them expiring under the lashes, without concern ? 4. THE mothers' inhumanity. Some people admire the courage of the Spartan mothers, who could hear the news of the death of their children slain in battle^ not only without tears, but even with a kind of joy and satisfaction. For my part, I should think it much better, that nature should show herself a little more on such occasions, and that the love of one's country should not utterly extinguish the sentimenla of maternal tenderness. One of our generals in France, who in the heat of battle was told that his son was killed, seemed by his answer to be much wiser; " Let us at present think," said he, " only of beating the enemy ; to-morrow I will mourn for my son." 5. their excessive leisure. Nor can I see what excuse can be made for that law, imposed by Lycur- gus upon the Spartans, which enjoined the spending so much of their time in idleness and inaction, and following no other business than that of war. He left all the arts and trades entirely to the slaves, and strangers that lived among them ; and put nothing into the hands of the citizens, but the lance and the shield. Not to mention the danger there was in suffering the number of slaves that were necessary for tilling the land, to increase to such a degree as to become much greater than that of their masters, which was often an occa- sion of seditions and riots among them ; how many disorders must men ne- cessarily fall into, that have so much leisure upon their hands, and have no daily occupation or regular labour ? This is an inconvenience still but too common among our nobility, and which is the natural effect of their faulty edu- cation. Except in the time of war, most of our gentry spend their lives in the most useless and unprofitable manner. They look upon agriculture, arts, and commerce, as beneath them, and derogatory to their gentility. They sel- dom know how to handle any thing but their swords. As for the sciences, they barely acquire just so much as they cannot well be without ; and many have not the least knowledge of them, nor any manner of taste for books or reading. We are not to wonder, then, if gaming and hunting, eating and drink- ing, mutual visits, and frivolous discourse, make up their whole occupation. What a life is this for men that have any parts or understanding ! 6. their cruelty towards the helots. Lycurgus would be utterly inexcusable, if he gave occasion, as he is at. cused of having done, for all the rigour and cruelty exercised towards the Helots in this republic. These Helots were the slaves employed by the Spar- tans to till the ground. It was their custom not only to make these poor crea- tures drunk, and expose them before their children, in order to give them ai: abhorrence for so shameful and odious a vice, but also to treat them with (hf utmost barbarity, as thinking themselves at liberty to destroy them by any wo lence or cruelty whatever, under pretence of their being always ready to rebel Upon a certain occasion related by Thucydides, two thousand of these slaves disappeared at once, without any body's knowing what was become af them.* Plutarch pretends, that this barbarous custom was not practised till after the time of Lycurgus, and that he had no hand in it. 7. MODESTY AND DECENCY ENTIRELY NEGLECTED. But the points wherein Lycurgus appears to be most culpable, and which best shows the great enormities and gross darkness in which the Pagans were plunged, is the little regard he showed for modesty and decency, in what con- cerned the education of girls, and the marriages ot young women ; which was without doubt the source of those disorders that prevailed in Sparta, as Aristotle • Thucid. li!). iv. 130 HIFIORY OF GftEECTS. has wisely observed. When we compare these indecent and licentious tutions ofthe wisest legislator that ever profane antiquity could boast, with the sanctity and purity of the evangelical precepts, what a noble idea does it give us of the dignity and excellence of the Christian religion ! Nor will it give us a less advantageous idea of this pre-eminence, if we com- pare the most excellent and laudable part of the institutions of Lycui^us with the laws of the gospel. It is, we must own, a wonderful thing, that the whole people should consent to a division of their lands, which set the poor upon an equal footing with the rich ; and that by a total exclusion cf ^Id and silver they should reduce themselves to a kind of voluntary poverty, but the Spartan le- gislator, when he enacted these laws, had the sword in his hand ; whereas the Christian legislator says but a word, " Blessed are the poor in spirit," and thousands of the faithful through all succeeding generations renounce their goods, sell their lands and estates, and leave all, to follow Jesus Christ, theii Master, in poverty and want. ARTICLE VIII. THE GOVERNMENT OF ATHENS. THE LAWS OF SOLON. THE HISTORY OF THAT REPUBLIC, FROM THE TIME OF SOLON TO THE REIGN OF DARIUS THE FIRST. I HAVE already observed, that Athens was at first governed by kings. But they were such as had little more than the name ; for their whole power being confined to the command of the armies, vanished in time of peace. Every man was master in his own house, where he lived in an absolute state of indepen- dence. Codrus, the last king of Athens, having devoted himself to death for the public good, his sons Medon and Nileus quarrelled about the succession.* The Athenians took this occasion to abolish the regal power, though it did not much incommode them ; and declared, that Jupiter alone was king of Athens, at the very same time that the Jews were weary of their theocracy, that is, having the true God for their king, and would absolutely have a man to reign over them. Plutarch observes, that Homer, when he enumerated the ships of the con- federate Grecians, gives the name of people to none but the Athenians ; from whence it may be inferred, that the Athenians even then had a great inclination to a democratical government, and that the chief authority was at that time ^ vested in the people. In the place of their kings they substituted a kind of governors for life, under the title of archons. But this perpetual magistracy appeared still, in the eyes of this free people, as too lively an imas^e of regal power, of which they were desirous of abolishing even the very shadow ; for which reason they first re- duced that office to die term, of ten years, and then to that of one : and thia they did with a view of resuming the authority the more frequently into their own hands, which they never transferred to their magistrates but with regret. Such a limited power as this was not sufficient to restrain those turbulent spirits, who were grown excessively jealous of their liberty and independence, very tender and apt to he offended at an}'' thing that seemed to break in upon their equality, and always ready to take umbrage at whatever had the least appearance of dominion or superiority. Hence arose continual factions and quarrels ; there was no agreement or concord among them, either about reli- gion or government. Athens therefore continued a long time incapable of enlarging her power, it being veiy happy for her that she could preserve herself from ruin in the midst of those long and frequent dissensions she had to struggle with. Misfortunes instruct. Athens learned at length, that true liberty consists in a dependence upon justice and reason. This nappy subjection could not be tstatlished, but by a legislator. She therefore placed her choice upon Draco, • Codrui wai c^tcmpora:^ with Saul. HISTORY OF GREECE. 431 n mao of acknowiodged wisdom and integrity, for that employment. It does Dr)t appear that Greece had, before his time, any written laws.* The first of that kind, then, were of his publishing ; the rigour of which, anticipating as it were the Stoical doctrine, was so great, that it punished the smallest offence, as well as the most enormous crimes, equally with death. These Jaws of Draco, written, says Demades, not with ink, but with blood, had the same fate as usually attends all violent things. Sentiments of humanity in the judges, compassion for the accused, whom they were wont to look upon rather as un- fortunate than criminal, and the apprehensions the accusers and witnesses werf under of rendering themselves odious to the people, all concurred to produce a remissness in the execution of the laws, which, by that means, in process of time, became as it were afbrogated through disuse : and thus an excessive rigour paved the way for impunity. The danger of relapsing into their former disorders, made them have re- course to fresh precautions ; for they were willing to slacken the curb and re- straint of fear, but not to break it. In order, therefore, to find out mitigations, which might make amends, for what they took away from the letter of the law, they cast their eyes upon one of the wisest and most virtuous persons oi his age, I mean Solon, whose singular qualities, and especially his great meek- ness, had acquired him the affection and veneration of the whole city.j His main application had been to the stud)'- of philosophy, and especially to that part of it which we call policy, and which teaches the art of government. His extraordinary merit placed him among the first of the seven sages of Greece, who rendered the age we are speaking of so illustrious. These sages often paid visits to each other. One day, that Solon went to Miletus to see Thales, tlwj first thing he said to Thales was, that he wondered why he had never de- sired to have either wife or children. Thales made him no answer then ; but a few days after he contrived, that a stranger should come into their company, and pretend that he had just arrived from Athens, from whence he had set out about ten days before. Solon hearing the stranger say this, ask^d him, if there was any news at Athens when he came away. The strangei , who had been taught his lesson, replied, that he had heard of nothing but the death of a young gentleman, whom all the town accompanied to the grave ; because, as they said, he was the son of the worthiest man in the city, who was then absent. Alas 1 cried Solon, interrupting the man's story, how much is the poor father of the youth to be pitied ! But pray, what is the g'entleman's nam^e ? I heard his name replied the stranger, but I have forgot it. I only remember that the people talked much of his wisdom and justice. Every answer afforded new matter cf trouble and terror to this inquisitive father, who was so justly alarmed. Was it not, said he at length, the son of Solon? The very same, replied the stranger. Solon at these words rent his clothes, and beat his breast, and ex- Eressing his sorrow by tears and groans, abandoned himself to the most sensi- le affliction. Thales, seeing this, took him by the hand, and said to him with a smile, comfort yourself, my friend, all that has been told you is a mere fic- tion. Now you see the reason why I never married : it is because I am un- irilling to expose myself to such trials and afflictions.J Plutarch has given us in detail, a refutation of Thates's reasoning, which tends to deprive mankind of the most natural and reasonable attachments in life, in lieu of which the heart of man will not fail to substitute others of an unjust and unlawful nature, which will expose him to the same pains and inconveniences. The remedy, says this historian, against the grief that may arise from the loss of goods, of friends, or of children, is not to throw away our estates, and reduce ourselve.s to poverty, to make an absolute renunciation of all friendship, or to confine, ourselves to a state of celibacy ; but, upon all such accidents and mis- fortunes, to make a right use of our reason. ♦AM. 3330. Ant. J. C. 624. f A. M. 3400. Ant. J. C. 6(H. I Plut. de Vit. LycuTf . p. 81, 13. 432 HISTORY OF G»KECE. Athens, after some time of tranquillity and peace, which the prudence and courage of Solon had procured, who was as great a warrior as he was a states- man, relapsed into her former dissensions about the government of the com monwealth, and was divided into as many parties as there were different sorts of inhabitants in Attica. For those that lived upon the mountains were fond of popular government ; those in the low-lands were for an oligarchy ; and those who dwelt on the sea-coasts, were for having a mixed government, com- pounded of these two forms blended together ; and they hindered the other two contending parties, from getting any ground of each other. Besides these, there was a fourth party, w^hich consisteduDnly of the poor, who were grievously harassed and oppressed by the rich, on account of their debts, which they ^vere not able to discharge. This unhappy party was determined to choose themselves a chief, who should deliver them from the inhuman severity of their creditors, and make an entire change in the form of their government, by making a new division of the lands.* In this extreme danger, all the wise Athenians cast their eyes upon Solon, who was obnoxious to neither party ; because he had never sided either with the injustice of the rich, or the rebellion of the poor ; and they strongly soli- cited him to take the matter in hand, and to endeavour to put an end to these differences and disorders. He was very unwilling to take upon him so dan- gerous a commission : however, he was at last chosen Archon, and was con- stituted supreme arbiter and legislator with the unanimous consent of all par- ties ; the rich liking him as he was rich ; and the poor because he was honest. He now had it in his power to make himself king : several of the citizens ad vised him to it ; and even the w^isest among them, not thinking it was in the power of human reason to bring about a favourable change, consistent with the laws, were not unwilling that the supreme power should be vested in one man, who was so eminently distinguished for his prudence and justice. But not- withstanding all the remonstrances that were made to him, and all the solici- tations and reproaches of hi? friends, who treated his refusal of the diadem as an effect of pusillanimity and meanness of spirit, he was still firm and un- changeable in his purpose pnd would hearken to no other scheme than that of settling a form of gove ^vi f^ni in his country, that should be founded upon the basis of a just and reasonable liberty. Not venturing to meddle with cer- tain disorders and evils, which he looked upon as incurable, he undertook to bring about no other alterations or changes, than such as he thought he could persuade the citizens to comply with by argument and reason, or bring^ them into by the weight of his authority ; wisely uniting, as he himself said, au thority and power with reason and* justice. Wherefore, when one afterwards asked him, if the laws which he had made for the Athenians were the best: " Yes,'* said he, " the best they were capable of receiving." The soul of popular states is equality. But for fear of disgusting the rich, Solon did not venture to propose any equality of lands and wealth ; whereby Attica, as well as Laconia, would have resembled a paternal inheritance, di- vided among a number of brethren. However, he went so far as to put an end to the slavery and oppression of those poor citizens, whose excessive debts and accumulated arrears had forced them to sell their persons and liberty, and reduce themselves to a state of servitude and bondage. An express law wat made, which declared all debtors discharged and acquitted of all their debts. This affair drew Solon into a troublesome difficulty, which gave him a great deal of vexation and concern. When he first determined to cancel the debts he foresaw that such an edict, which had something in it contrary to justice, would be extremely offensive. For which reason, he endeavoured in some measure to rectify the tenor of it, by introducing it with a specious preamble, which set forth a great many very plausible pretexts, and gave a colour oi equity and reason to the law, which in reality it had not. But in order hereto, * Plot, in Solon, p. 8^ C9. HISTORY or GREECIi. 433 eie first disclosed his design to some particular friends whom he used to consult ir all his affairs, and concerted with them the form and the terms in which thii edict should be expressed. Now, before it was published, his friends, who were more interested than faithful, secretly borrowed great sums of money of their rich acquaintance, which they laid out in the purchase of lands, know- ing they would not be aflfected by the edict. When this appeared, the gene- ral indignation that was raised by such a base and flagrant knavery, fell upoo Solon, though in reality he had no hand in it.* But it is not enough for a mar in office to be disinterested and upright himself; all that surround and ap- proach him ought to be so too ; wife, relations, friends, secretaries, and servants. The faults of others are charged lo his account : all the wrongs, all the rapines, that are committed either through his negligence or connivance, are justly imputed to him ; because it is his business, and one of the principal designs of his being put into such a trust, to prevent those corruptions and abuses. This ordinance at first pleased neither of the two parties ; it disgusted the rich, because it abolished the debts; and dissatisfied the poor, because it did not ordain a new division of the lands, as they had expected, and as Lycurgus had actually effected at Sparta. But Solon's influence at Athens fell very short of the power which L}[curgus had acquired in Sparta ; for he had no other authority over the Athenians, than what the reputation of his wisdom, and the confidence of the people in his integrity, had procured him. However, in a little time afterwards, this ordinance was generally approved, and the same powers as before, were continued to Solon. He repealed all the laws, that had been made by Draco, except those against murder. The reason of his doing this, was the excessive rigour of these lawj, which inflicted death alike upon all sorts of offenders : so that they who were convicted of sloth or idleness, or they who had only stolen a few herbs, or a little fruit out of a garden, were as severely punished as those that were guilty of murder or sacrilege. He then proceeded to the regulation of offices, employments, and magistra cies, all which he left in the hands of the rich ; for which reason he distributed all the^ rich citizens into three classes, ranging them according to the difference of their incomes and revenues, and accordir^ to the value and estimation of each particular man's estate. Those who were found to have five hundred measures a year, as well in corn as in liquids, were placed in the first class ; those who had three hundred were placed in the second ; and those who had but two hundred made up the third. AW the rest of the citizens, whose income fell short of two hundred measures, W€*re comprised in a fourth and last class, and were never admitted into any employments.! But, in order to make them amends for this exclusion from offices, he left them a right to vote in the assemblies and judgments of the Eeople ; which at first seemed to be a matter of little consequence, but in time ecame extremely advantageous, and made them masters of all the affairs of the city ; tor most of the law-suits and differences resumed to the people, to whom an appeal lay from all the judgments of the magistrates ; and in the as- semblies of the people, the greatest and most important affairs of the statp relating to peace or war, wer^ also determined. The Areopagus,J so called from the place where its assemblies were held, had been a long time establish^jd. Solon restored and augmented its authorit}'^ leaving to that tribunal, as the supreme court of judicature, a general inspec tion and superintendency oyer all affairs, as also the care ot causing the laws, of which he was the guardian, to be observed and put in execution. Before ftis time, the citizens of the greatest probity and justice were made the judgei of the Areopagus. Solon was the first who thought it convenient that non« ghould be honoured with that dignity, except such as had passed through th* ♦ Plut. lo Solon, p. 87. | plui in Solon, p. 89. X Thi« wot a hill near th»- nitac't'l of Athens, csilled AreorRjrus, Umt is lo sav, lb* hill o" M«r8 ; )h9 MM il w»« thf)r« Man had beer, tried for Uie njurcler of rTHisrrjjiiiies, t^e %on of S'tplone. 454 mSTOKY OF greecs •fice of archon. Nothing was so august as this senate : and its reputation fol judgment and integrity became so very great, that the ilomans sometimes re« Ferred causes, which were too intricate for their own decision, to the detcrmi- nation of this tribunal.* Nothing was regarded or attended to here but truth, and to the end that no external objects might divert the attention of the judges, their tribunal wat always held at night, or in the dark ; and the orators were not allowed to mak« use of any exordium, digression, or peroration. Solon, to prevent, as much as possible, the abuse which the people mighl make of the great authority he left them, created a second council, consisting of four hundred men, a hundred out of every tribe ; and ordered all causes and affairs to be brought before this council, and to be maturely examined by them, before they were proposed to the general assembly of the people ; to whose iudgment the sentiments of the other were to submit, and to which alone be» longed the right of giving a final sentence and decision. It w^as upon this sub- ject Anacharsis, whom the reputation of the sages of Greece nad brought *rom the middle of Scythia, said one day to Solon, *' I wonder you should empower the wise men only to deliberate and debate upon affairs, and leave the determination and decision of them wholly to fools." Upon another occasion, when Solon was conversing with him upon some other i-egulations he had in view, Anacharsis, astonished that he could expect to sue ceed in his designs of restraining the avarice and injustice of the citizens by written laws, answered him in this manner: "give me leave to tell you, that your writings are just like spiders' webs ; the weak and small flies may be en- tangled and caught in them, but the rich and powerful will break through them and despise them." Solon, who was an able and prudent man, was very sensible of the incon- veniences that attend a democracy or popular government ; but having tho- roughly studied, and being perfectly well acquainted with the character and disposition of the Athenians, he knew it would be a vain attempt to take the sovereignty out of the people's hands ; and that, if they parted with it at one time, they would soon resume it at another, by force and violence. He there- fore contented himself with limiting their power by the authority of the Areo pagus, and the council of four hundred ; judging that the state, being support- ed and strengthened by these two powerful bodies, as by two good anchors, would not be so liable to commotions and disorders as it had been, and that the - people would be kept within due bounds, and enjoy more tranquillity, 1 shall only mention some of the laws which Solon made, by which the reader may be able to form a judgment of the rest. In the first placed every ijarticu- lar person was authorized to espouse the quarrel of any one that was injured and insulted ; so that the first comer might prosecute the offender, and bring nim to justice for the outrage he had committed.! The design of this wise legislator in this ordinance, was to a'-xustom his citizens to have a fellow-feeling for one another's sufferings and misfortunes, as they were all members of one and the same body. By another law, those persons who, in public differences and dissensions, did not declare themselves of one party or other, but waited to see how things would go before they determined, were declared infamous, condemned to per- petual banishment, and to have all their estates confiscated.J Solon had learned from long experience and deep reflection, that the rich, the powerful, and even the wise and virtuous, are usually the most backward to expose themselves io the ijconveniences which public dissensions and troubles produce in society ; and that their zeal for the public good does ne t render them so active and vigi- laiit in the defence of it, as the passions of the factious render them industrioui 8u destroy it ; that the just party, being thus abandoned by those that are cs^ .. 1 , — . — ■ ■ — — — < ■ • Val. Max. 1. viii. c. I. Lucian. in Herwot. p. S95. Quintil. 1. vi. «. 1. t Plot- in Solon, p. 88. P» W» HISTORY or GREECE. pable of giving more weight, authority, and strength to it by their union and concurrence, becomes unable to contend with the audacious and violent enter- prises of a few daring innovators. To prevent this misfortune, which may be attended with the most fatal consequences to a state, Solon judged it proper to force the well-afFected, by the fear of greater inconveniences to themselves, to declare for the just party at the very beginning of seditions, and to animate the spirits and courage of the best citizens, by engaging with them in the common danger. By this method of accustoming the minds of the people to look upon that man almost as an enemy and a traitor, who should appear indifferent to, and unconcerned at the misfortunes of the public, he provided the state with a quick tnd sure resource against the sudden enterprises of wicked and profligate citizens. Solon abolished the giving of portions in marriage with young women, un- less they were only daughters, and ordered that the bride should carry no other fortune to her husband, than three suits of clothes, and some few household- goods of little value ; for he would not have matrimony become a traffic, and a mere commerce of interest, but desired that it should be regarded as an ho- nourable fellowship and society ,1n order to raise subjects to the state, to make the married pair live agreeably and harmoniously together, and to give con- tinual testimony of mutual love and tenderness to each other.* Before Solon's time, the Athenians were not allowed to make their wills ; the wealth of the deceased always devolved upon his children and family. So- lon's law allowed every one that was childless, to dispose of his whole estate as he thought fit ; preferring, by that means, friendship to kindred, and choice to necessity and const''aint, and rendering every man truly master of his own fortune, by leaving him at liberty to bestow it where he pleased.^ This law, however, did not authorize indifferently all sorts of donations ; it justified and approved of none but those that were made freely, and without any compul- sion ; without having the mind distempered and intoxicated with drinks or charms, or perverted and seduced by the allurements and caresses of a wo- man ; for this wise lawgiver was justly persuaded, that there is no difference to be made between being seduced and being forced, looking upon artifice and violence, pleasure and pain, in the same light, when they are made use of ag means to impose upon men's reason, and to captivate the liberty of their un» derstanding. Another regulation he made, was to lessen the rewards of the victors at the Isthmian and Olympic games, and to fix them at a certain value, viz. a hun dred drachms, which make about fifty livres, for the first sort ;t and five hun- dred drachms, or two hundred and fifty livres, for the second.J He thought it a shameful thing, that athletae and wrestlers, a sort of people not only use- less but often dangerous to the state, should have any considerable rewards allotted to them, which ought rather to be reserved for the families of those persons whj died in the service of their country ; it being veiy just and rea fonable, that the state should support and provide for such oiphans, who pro- bably might come in time to follow the good examples of their fathers. § In order to encourage arts, trades, and manufactures, the senate of the Are- opagus was charged with the care of inquiring into the ways and means that every man made use of to get his livelihood : and of chastising and punishing all th ose who led an idle life. Besides the fore-mentioned view of bringing arts and trades into a flourishing condition, this regulation w^as founded upon two other reasons, still more important. In the fii-st place, Solon considered, that such persons as have no fortune, and make use of no methods of industry to get their livelihood, are ready to employ all manner of unju?t and unlawful means for acquiring money ; and that the necessity of subsisting some way or other disposes them for commit- ting all sorts of misdemeanours, rapines, knaveries, and frauds ; from whidi ♦ riut. in Solon, p. 8fc t $45. { Hlut. in Solon p. 91. Diog. LaSrt. in S«lou. p. 99 436 HISTORY Of GKEECB. spring up a school of vice in the bosom of the commonwealth ; and scch an evil gains ground, as does not fail to spread its infection, and by degrees cor- rupt the manners of the public. In the second place, the most able statesmen have always looked upon these indigent and idle people as a troop of dangerous, restless, and turbulent spj- rits eager after inoovation and change, always ready for seditions and insur- rections, and interested in the revolutions of the state, by which alone Ihey can hope to change their own situation and fortune It was for all these rea- sons, that, in the law we are speaking of, Solon declared, that a son should not be obliged to support his father in old age or necessity, if the latter had not taken care to have his son brought up to some trade or occupation : all children that were spurious and illegitimate, were exempted from the same duty : for it is evident, says Solon, that whoever thus contemns the dignity and sanctity of matrimony has never had in view the lawful end v/e ought to pro- pose to ourselves in having children, but only the gratification of a^loose pas- sion. Having satisfied his own desires, the end he proposed to himself, he has no proper right over the persons who may spring from him, upon whose lives, as well as births, he has entailed indelible infamy and reproach. It was prohibited to speak any ill of the dead ; because religion directs us to account the dead as sacred, justice requires us to spare those that are no more, and good policy should prevent hatreds from becoming immortal.* It was also forbidden to affront, or give ill language to any body in the tem. pies and courts of judicature, in public assemblies, and in the theatres during the time of representation ; for to be no where able to govern our passions and resentments, argues too untractable and licentious a disposition ; as to restrain them at all times, and upon all occasions, is a virtue beyond the mere force of human nature, a perfection reserved for the evangelical law. Cicero observes, that this wise legislator or Athens, whose laws were in force even in his time, had provided no law against parricide ; and being asked the reason why he had not, he answered, " that to make laws against, and ordain punishments for, a crime that had never been known or heard o^, was the way to introduce it, rather than to prevent it."t I omit several of his laws con- cerning marriage and adultery, in which there are remarkab' and manifest contradictions, and a great mixture of light and darkness, knov ige and error, which we generally n.\d among the very wisest of the heatheiiS, who had no e jtablished principles i r rules to go by. After Solon had published. his laws, and engaged the people by public oath .0 observe them religiously, at least for the term of a hundred years, he thought proper to remove from Athens, in order to give them time to take root, and to gather strength by custom ; as also to rid himself of the trouble ana importunity of those who came to consult him about the sense and meaning of his laws, and to avoid the complaints and odium of others ; for, as he said him- self, in great undertakings, it is difficult if not impossible, to please all parties. He was absent ten years, in which interval of time we are to place his journej into Egypt, into Lydia to visit king Croesus, and into several other countries. At his return he found the whole city in commotion and trouble ; the three old factions were revived, and had formed three different parties : Lycurgus was at the head of the people that inhabited the low-lands ; Megacles, son of Alcmeon, was the leader of the inhabitants on the sea coast ; and Pisistratui had declared for the mountaineers, to whom were joined the manufacturers and labourers who lived by their industry, and whose animosity was chiefly against the rich : of these three leaders, the two last were the most powerful and considerable.! f tlut. in Solon, p. 89. I Sa pienter fecisse dicitur, cum de eo nihil saDxerit,quod antca commitsum non erat ; ne, non tarn prohib^ft. fMwn aJinonere, rideretur. — Pro Ros. Amer. n. 70, I A.M. 5445. ADt.J. €.559. Plut. iu Solon, p. 94. HISTORY or GREECE. Me^acles was the son of that Alcmeon, whom Crcesus had cxtre nely enriched for d particular service he had done him. He had likewise married a lady »no had brought him an immense portion ; her name was Agarista, the daugh- ter 1/ Clisthenes, tyrant of Sicyon. This Clisthenes was at this time the richest and most opulent prince in Greece. In order to be able to choose a worthy son-in-law, and to know his temper, manners, and character, from his own experience, Clisthenes invited all the young noblemen of Greece to come and spend a year with him at his house ; for this was an ancient custom in that country. Several youths accepted the invitation, and there came from dif- ferent parts to the number of thirteen. Nothing was seen every day but races, games, tournaments, magnificent entertainments, and conversations upon all sorts of questions and subjects. One of the gentlemen, who had hitherto surpassed all his competitors, lost the princess, by using some indecent gestures and pos- tures in his dancing, with which her father was extremely offended. Clistheriw, at the end of the year, declared for Megacles, and sent the rest of the noble- men away, loaded with civilities and presents.* Pisistratus was a well-bred man, of a gentle and insinuating behaviour, ready to succour and assist the poor ;t wise and moderate towards his enemies ; a most artful and accomplished dissembler ; and one who had all the exterior of vir- tue, even beyond the most virtuous; who seemed to be the most zealous stickler for equality amonff the citizens, and who absolutely declared against innova- tions and change.! It was pot very hard for him to impose upon the people, with all his artifice and address. But Solon quickly saw through his disguise, and perceived the drift of all his seeming virtue and fair pretences; however, he thought fit to observe measures with him in the beginning, hoping, perhaps, by gentle me thods, to bring him back to his duty. It was at this time Thespis began to change the Grecian tragedy ;§, 1 say change, because it w^as invented long before.il This novelty drew all the world after it. Solon went among the rest for the sake of hearing Thespis, who acted himself, according to the custom of the ancient poets. When the play was ended, he called to Thespis, and asked him, " Why he was not ashamed to utter such lies before so many people ?" Thespis made answer, that there was no harm in lies of that sort, and in poetical fictions, which were only made for diversion." **No," replied Solon, giving a great stroke with his stick upon the ground ; " but if we suffer and approve of lyine for our diversion, it will quickly find its way into our serious engagements, and ail our business and affairs.'* In the mean time, Pisistratus still pushed on his point; and in order to accomplish it, made use of a stratagem that succeeded as well as he could cxpect.lF He gave himself several wounds ; and in that condition, with his body all bloody, caused himself to be carried in a chariot into the market place, where he raised and inflamed the populace, by giving them to understand that his enemies had treated him in that manner, and that he was the victim of his zeaJ for the public gocJ.** An assembly oi the people was immediately convened, and there it was re- » solved, in spite of all the remonstrances Solon could make against it, that fifty guards should be allowed Pisistratus for the security of his person. He soon * Herod. 1. vi. c. 125—131. f We are not here to understand such as beg-^edor asked alms; for in those times, says Isocrates, Utert •as no citizen who died of hung^er, or dishonoured his city bj begging. — Orat. Areop. p. 300. t Plut in Solon, p. 95. J Plut. in Solon, p. 95. jl Traged;^ was in being a long time before Thespis ; but it was only a chorus of persons that supf 1 m4 Mid opprcbrious things to one another. Thespis was the first that improred this chorus, by the addition of m personage or character, who, in order to gire the rest time to take breath, and to recover their spirits, re eited an adref .ure of some illaftriouf p«rflon. And this recital gare occasion afterwards for introducinf the subjects of tragedies. 1 Herod. 1. i. c. 5»— 6* Plut. in Solon, p. 9& 438 HISTORY OF GREECE. augmented the number as much as he thought fit, and by their means made himself master of the citadel All his enemies betook themselves to flight, and the whole city was in great consternation and disorder, except Solon, who loudly reproached the Athenians with their cowardice and folly, and the tyrant with his treachery. Upon his being asked, what it was that gave him so much firmness and resolution ? " It is," said he, " my old age.'* He was indeed very old, and did not seem to risk much, as the end of his life was veiy near; though it often happens, that men grow fonder of life, in proportion as they have less reason and right to desire it should be prolonged. But Pisistratus, after he had subdued all, thought his conquest imperfect till he had gained Solon ; and as he was well acquainted with the means that are proper to engage an old man, he caressed him accordingly ; omitted nothing that could tend to soften and win upon him, and showeJ him all possible marks of friendship and esteem, doing him all manner of honour, having him often about his person, and publicly professing a great veneration for the laws, which in truth ne both ob- served himself, and caused to be observed by others. Solon, seeing it was impossible either to bring Pisistratus hj fair means to renounce this usurpa- tion, or to depose him by force, thought it a point of prudence not to exasperate the tyrant by rejecting the advances he made him ; and hoped, at the same time, that by entering into his confidence and counsels, he might at least be capable of conducting a power which he could not abolish, and of mitigating the mischief and calamity which he had not been able to prevent. Solon did not survive the liberty of his country quite two years : for Pisis- tratus made himself master of Athens under the archon Comias, the first year of the 51st Olympiad, and Solon died the year following, under the archon He- gestratus, who succeeded Comias. The two parties, whose leaders were Lycurgus and Megacles, uniting, drove Pisistratus out of Athens ; where he was soon recalled by Megacles, who gave him his daughter in marriage. But a difference that arose upon occasion of this match having embroiled them afresh, the Alcmseonidae had the worst of it ; and were obliged to retire. Pisistratus was twice deposed, and twice found means to reinstate himself. His artifices acquired him his power, and his moderation maintained him in it ; and without doubt his eloquence, which even in Tully^s judgment was very great, rendered him very acceptable to the Athenians, who were but too ^pt to be affected with the charms of discourse, as it made them forget the care of their liberty.* An exact submission to the laws distinguished Pisistratus from most other usurpers ; and the mildness of his government was such as might make many a lawful sovereign blush. For which reason the character of Pisistratus was thought worthy of being set in opposition to that of other tyrants. Cicero, doubting what use Caesar would make of -his vic- tory at Pharsalia, wrote to his dear friend Atticus, " We do not yet know whether the destiny of Rome will have us groan under a Phalaris, or Jive under a Pisistratus.* This tyrant, if indeed we are to call him so, always showed himself very popular and moderate, and had such a command of his temper, as to bear re- proaches and insults with patience, w^hen he had it in his power to revenge t them with a word.J His gardens and orchards were open to all the citizens , in which he was afterwards imitated by Cimon. It is said he was the first who opened a public library in Athens,§ which after his time was much augme^;ited, and at last carried into Persia by Xerxes, when he took that city.H But Scleucus Nicanor, a long time afterwards, restored it to Athens. Cicero thinks also, it was Pisistratus who first made the Athenians acquainted with * Pisistratus dieendo tantum raliiisse dicitur, ut ei Athenienses regium imperium oratiooe capti permit- IcrenU — Val. M»K. 1. viii. c. 9. Q,uis doctior uadem temporibus, aut cujut e!oquentia Uteris instructior fuisse traditur, qnam Pitistfttii Cic. de Oral. 1. iii. n. 137. f Incertum est Phalarimne, an Pisistratum, nit imitaturui.-— Ad Attic. I. rii. Ep. xix. *, Val. Max. 1. V. z. \. { Ath«n. 1. xii. p. 532. U Aol. Gel. I. Vi^ ST H18TOKY OF GREECE. the poems of Homer ; who arranged the books in the order we now find them, whereas before they were confused, and not digested; and who fi^fi caused them to be publicly read at their feasts, called Panathenea*.* Plato ascribes this honour to his son Hipparchus.t Pisistralus died in tranquillity, and transmitted to his sons the sovereign power, which he had usurped thirty years before ; seventeen of which he had reigned in peace .J His sons were Hippias and Hipparchus.§ Thucydides adds a third, whoni be calls Thessalus. They seemed to have inherited from their father an af- fection for learning and learned men. Plato, who attributes to Hipparchus what we have said concerning the poems of Homer, adds that he invited to Athens the famous poet Anacreon, who was of Teos, a city of Ionia ; and thai he sent a vessel of fifty oars op purpose for him.ll He likewise entertained at his house Simonides, another famous poet of the isle of Ceos. one of the Cycla- des, in the JEgean sea, to whom he gave a large pension, and made very rich presents. The design of these princes in inviting men of letters to Athens was, says Plato, to soften and cultivate the minds of the citizens, and to infuse into them a relish and love of virtue, by giving them a taste for learning and the sci- ences. Their care extended even to the instructing of the peasants and coun- try people, by erecting, not only in the streets of the city, but in all the roads and highways, statues of stones, called Mercuries, with grave sentences carved upon them ; in which manner those silent monitors gave instructive lessons to all passengers. Plato seems to suppose, that Hipparchus had the authority, or that the two brothers reigned together. But Thucydides shows, that Hip pias, as the eldest of the sons, succeeded his father in the government. If Be this as it may, their reign in the whole, after the death of Pisistratus, ^va« only of eighteen years duration, and ended in the following manner. Harmodi'js and Aristogiton, both citizens of Athens, had contracted a very strict friendship. Hipparchus, angry with the former for a personal affront he pretended to have received from him, sought to revenge himself by a public affront to his sister, in obliging her shamefully to retire from a solemn proces- sion, in which she wa? to carry one of the sacred baskets, alleging that she was not in a fit condition to assist at such a ceremony. Her brother, and still more his friend, being stung to the quick by so gross and outrageous an affront, formed, from that moment, a resolution to attack the tyrants. And to do it the more effectually, they waited for the opportunity of a festival, which they judged would be very favourable for their purpose : this was the feast of the Pana- thenea, in which the ceremony required that all the tradesmen and artificers should be under arms. For the greater security, they only admitted a very small number of the citizens into their secret ; conceiving that, upon the fir^t motion, all the rest would join them. The day being come, they went l^e- times into the market-place, armed with daggers. Hippias came out of lltc palace, and went to the Ceramicum, which was a place without the city, where the company of guards then were, to give the necessary orders for the ceje- mony The tw^o friends followed him thither, and cominp near him, they saw one of the conspirators talking very familiarly with him, which made them ap- prehend they were betrayed. They could have executed their design that mo- ment upon Hippias; but were willing to begin their vengeance upon the au- thor of the affront they had received. They therefore returned into the city, where meeting with Hipparchus, they killed him ; but being immediately ap prehended, themselves were sJain, and Hippias found means to dispel the storm.** After this affair he regarded no measures, and reigned like a true tyrant, putting to death a vast number of citizens. To guard himself for the future against a like enterprise, and to secure a safe retreat in case of any accident. • Lib. iii. de Orat. n. 137. t In Hipparch. p. 233. 5 A. M. 3473. Ant. J. C 526. ▼ ThucyH. 1. Y«. p. 'i-2b. * Aris*. lib. de Rep. c. II Id Hip. p. 2-23,229. 140 UfSTORY OF GREtOE. he endeavoured to strengthen himself by a foreign support, and, ]b that end, gave his daughter in marriage to the son of the tyrant of Lampsacus. In the mean time, the Alcmaeonidae, who, from the beginning of the revolu- tion, had been banished from Athens by Pisistratus, and who saw their hopes frustrated by the bad success of the last conspiracy, did not however lose cou- rage, but turned their views another way.* As they were very rich and power- ful, they got themselves appointed by the Amphictyons, who were the heads of the grand or general council of Greece, superintendents for rebuilding the temple of Delphos, for the sum of three hundred talents, or nine hundred thou* sand livres.t As they were naturally very generous, and besides had their reasons for being so on this occasion, they added to this sum a great deal of their own money, and made the whole front of the temple of Parian marble, at their private expense ; whereas, by the contract made with the Amphictyons, it was only to have been made of common stone. The liberality of the Alcmaeonidae was not altogether a free bounty ; neither was their magnificence towards the god of Delphos a pure eflfect of religion. Policy was the chief motive. They hoped, by this means, to acquire great credit and influence in the temple, which happened according to their expec- tation. The money which they had plentifully poured into the hands of the priestess, rendered them absolute masters of the oracle, and of the pretended god who presided over it, and who, for the future, becoming their echo, faith- fully repeated the words they dictated to him, and gratefully lent them the assistance of his voice and authority. As often, therefore, as any Spartan came to consult the priestess, whether upon his own affairs, or upon those of the state, no promise was ever made him of the god's assistance, but upon condition that the Lacedaemonians should deliver Athens from the yoke of tyranny. This order was so often repeated to them by the oracle, that they resolved at last to make war against the Pisistratidae, though they were under the strongest en- gagements of friendship and hospitality with them ; herein preferring the will of God, says Herodotus, to all human considerations.J The first attempt of this kind miscarried ; and the troops they sent against the tyrants were repulsed with loss. Notwithstanamg, a short time after, they made a second, which seemed to promise no better an issue than the first ; be- cause most of the Lacedaemonians, seeing the siege they had laid before Athens likely to continue a great while, retired, and left only a small number of troops to carry it on. But the tyrant's children, who had been clandertinely con- veyed out of the city, in order to be put in a safe place, being taken by the enemy, the father, to redeem them, was obliged to come to an accommoda- tion with the Athenians, by which it was stipulated, that he should depart out of Attica in five days time. Accordingly, he actually retired within the time limited, and settled at Sigaeum, a town in Phrygia, seated at the mouth of the river Scamander.§ Pliny observes, that the tyrants were driven out of Athens the same year the kings were expelled from Rome.ll Extraordinary honours were paid to the memory of Harmodius and Aristogiton. Their names were infinitely respected at Athens in all succeeding ages, and almost held in equal reverence with those of the gods. Statues were forthwith erected to them in the market-place,which was an honour that had never been rendered to any man before. The veiy Bight of these statues, exposed to the view of all the citizens, kept up their fcatred and detestation of tyranny, and daily renewed their sentiments of grati- tude to those generous defenders of their liberty, who had not scrupled to pur- chase it with their lives, and to seal it with their blood. Alexander the Great, who knew how dear the memory of these men was to the Athenians, and how far they carried their zeal in this respect, thought he did them a sensible plea- •ure in sending them the statues of those two great men, which he found Ml • Herod. 1. r. c 62—96. t ^bout $177,777. ^ A. M Ant. J. O. m. H Plin K xxxir. r ' HISTORY OF GREECE. 441 Persia after the defeat of Darius, and which Xerxes before had carriea ih/ther from Athens.* This city, at the time of her deliverance from tyranny, did not confine her gratitude solely to the authors of her liberty ; but extended it even to a woman, who had signalized her courage on that occasion. This woman was a courtezan, named Leona, who, by the charms of her beauty, and skill in playing on the harp, had particularly captivated Harmodius and Aristogiton. After their death, the tyrant, who knew they had concealed no- thing from this woman, caused her to be put to the torture, in order to make her declare the names of the other conspirators. But she bore all the cruelty of their torments with an invmcible constancy, and expired in the midst of them ; gloriously showing to the world, that her sex is more courageous, and more capable of keeping a secret, than some men imagine. The Athenians would not suffer the memory of so heroic an action to be lost: and to prevent the lustre of it from being sullied by the consideration of her character as a cour- tezan, they endeavoured to conceal that circumstance, by representing her in the statue, which they erected to her honour, under the figure of a lioness with- out a tongue.t Plutarch, in the life of Aristides, relates a thing which does great honour to the Athenians, and which shows to what a length they carried their gratitude to their deliverer, and their respect for his memory. They had learned that the grand-daughter of Aristogiton lived at Lemnos, in very mean and poor cir- cumstances, nobody being willing to marry her, upon account of her extreme indigence and poverty. The people of Athens sent for her, and marrying her to one ot the richest and most considerable men of their city, gave her an es- tate in land in the town of Potamos for her portion.J Atiiens seemed, in recovering her liberty, to have also recovered her cou- rnge. During the reigns of her tyrants she had acted with indolence and in- difference, knowing that what she did was not for herself, but for them. But after her deliverance from their yoke, the vigour and activity she exerted was of quite a different kind, because then her labours were her own. Athens, however, did not immediately enjoy a perfect tranquillity. Two of her citizens, Clisthenes, one of the Alcmaeonidae, and Isagoras, who were men of the greatest influence and power in the city, by contending with each other for superiority, created two considerable factions. The former, who had gained the people on his side, made an alteration in the form of their establishment, and instead of four tribes, whereof they consisted before, di- vided that body into ten tribes, to which he gave the names of the ten sons of Ion, whom the Greek historians make the father and first founder of the nation. Isagoras, finding himself inferior to his rival, had recourse to the Lacedaemo- nians. Cleomenes, one of the two kings of Sparta obliged Clisthenes to de- part from Athens, with seven hundred families of his adherents. But they soon returned, and were restored to all their estates and fortunes. The Lacedaemonians, stung with spite and jealousy against Athens, because she took upon her to act independent of their authority ; and repenting also, that they had delivered her from her tyrants upon the credit of an oracle, ol which they had since discovered the imposture, began to think of reinstating Hippias, one of the sons of Pisistratus ; and to that end sent for him from Si- gaeum, to which place he had retired. They then communicated their design to the deputies of their allies, whose assistance and concurrence they propose d to use, in order to render their enterprise more successful. The deputy of Corinth spoke first on this occasion, and expressed grt ^^t astonishment, that the Lacedaemonians, who were themselves avowed enemies of tyranny, and professed the greatest abhorrence for all arbitrary govern* ment, should desire to establish it elsewhere ; describing at the same tim^', in a lively manner, all the cruel and horrid effects of tyrannical governme/it, which his own country, Corinth, had but very lately felt by woful experience. Plin. 1. rxx""«. c. 8. t Plin.l. rii. c. 23. et 1. \xxiv c. St. : Pag-e 315 443 HISTORY OF GREECE The rest of the deputies applauded his discourse, and were of his opinion Thus the enterprise came to nothing ; and had no other effect, than to disco ver tlie base jealousy of the Lacedaemonians, and to cover them with shann and confusion. Hippias, defeated in his hopes, retired into Asia to Artaphernes, governo; of Sard is for the king of Persia, whom he endeavoured, by every method; to engage in a war against Athens ; representing to him, that the taking of so rich and powerful a city would render him master of all Greece. Artaphei- nes hereupon required of the Athenians, that they would reinstate Hippias in the government ; to which they made no other answer than a downright and absolute refusal. This was the original ground and occasion of the wars be- tween the Pe-^wans and the Greeks, which will be the sufcy'ect of the following ■ volumes. ARTICLE IX. ' ILLUSTRIOUS MEN, WHO DISTINGUISHED THEMSELVES IN ARTS AND SCIENCES ^ I BEGIN with the poets, because the most ancient. Homer, the most celebrated and illustrious of all the poets, is he of whom we have the least knowledge, either with respect to the country where he was born, or the time in which he lived. Among the seven cities of Greece, that contend for the honour of having given him birth, Smyrna seems to have the best title. Herodotus tells us, that Homer wrote four hundred years before his time, that is, three hundred and forty years after the taking of Troy ; for Herodo- tus flourished seven hundred and forty years after that expedition.* Some authors have pretended, that he was called Homer, because he was born blind. Velleius Paterculus rejects this story with contempt. If any man," says he, believes that Homer was born blind, he must be so himself, and even have lost all his senses."t Indeed, according to the observation of Cicero, Homer's works are rather pictures than poems, so perfectly does he paint to the life, and set the images of every thing he undertakes to describe before the eyes of the reader ; and he seems to have been intent upon intro- ducing all the most delightful and agreeable objects that nature affords, into his writings, and to make them, in a manner, pass in review before his readers.J What is most astonishing in this poet is, that having applied himself the first, at least of those that are known, to that kind of poetry which is the most sublime and difficult of all, he should, however, soar so high, and with such rapidity, as to carry it at once to the utmost perfection ; which seldom or never hap- pens in other arts, but by slow degrees, and after a long series of years.6 The kind of poetry we are speaking of, is the epic poem, so called from the Greek word inos ; because it is an acticn related by the poet. The sub- ject of this poem must be great, instructive, serious, containing only one prin- cipal event, to which all the rest must refer and be subordinate ; and this principal action must have passed in a certain space of time, which must not exceed a year at most. Homer has composed two poems of this kind, the Iliad and the Odyssey : the subject of the first is the anger of Achilles, so pernicious to the GreeKs, when they besieged Ilion or Troy ; and that of the second is, the voyagei and adventures of Ulysses, after the taking of that city. U is remarkable that no nation in the world, however learned and ingenious, has ever produced any poems comparable to his ; and that whoever have at* * Lib. ii. c. 53. A. M, 3160. Ant. J. C. 844. I Q,uem si quis caecum genitum putat, omnibus aensibus ©rbus est. — Paterc. 1. i. c. 5. X Tuscul. QusBSt. 1. V. n. 114. 1 Clarissimum deinde Homeri illuxit ing^enium, sine exemplo maximum : qui magnitudin*. operis, ct fi;l- pore carminiim. solus appellaii Poeta meruit. In quo hoc maximum est, quod aequo ante ilium, q em illi imilaretur; neque post ilium, qui imitari eum possit, inventus est; neque quemqnam alium, cujus operis pri Ovii» aVHMor fuerit, in to prrfectissimum, prvnter Homerum et Archilochum rej)erlemuB. — Veil Pate«»- V. i. t 4. fnSTORY OF GREFXK. 44.: ttrmptedany works of that kind, have taken their plan and ideas fronri Homer, borrowed all their rules from him, made him their model, and have only suc- ceeded in proportion to their success in copying him. The truth is, Homei was an original genius, and a fit model for the formation of others : Fons in," gemorum Homerus* The greatest men, and the most exalted geniuses, that have appeared for these two thousand and five or six hundred years, in Greece, Italy, and else- where ; those, whose writings we are forced still to admire ; who are still our masters, and who teach us to think, to reason, to speak, and to write ; all these, says Madame Dacier, acknowledge Homer to be the greatest of poets, and look upSLi his poems as the model after which all succeeding poets should form their taste and judgment.! After all this, can there be any man so conceited of his own talents, be they ever so great, as reasonably to presume, that his decisions should prevail against such a universal concurrence of judgment in persons of the most distinguished abilities and characters ? So many testimonies, so ancient, so constant, and so universal, entirely jus- tify the favourable judgment of Alexander the Great, of the works of Homer, tvhich he looked upon as the most excellent and valuable production of human tvit ; preiiosismnum humard anirm opus,X Quintilian, after having made a magnificent encomium upon Homer, gives us a just idea of his character and manner of writing in these few words : Hu7ic nemo in rnagnis sublimitate, in parvis proprietate superaverit. Idem Ice- * ins ac pressus^ jucundus et gravis^ turn copia turn hrevitate mirahilis. In great things, what a sublimity of expression ! and in little, what a justness and propriety! diffusive and concise, pleasant and grave, equally admirable both for his copiousness and his brevity.§ Hesiod. The most common opinion is, that he was cotemporary with Homer. It is said, that he was born at Cumae, a town in iEolia, but that he was brought up at Ascra, a little town in Boeotia, which has since passed for his native country. Thus Virgil calls him the old man of Ascra. Il We know little or nothing of this poet, but by the few remaining poems of his, all in hexameter verse ; which are, 1st, " The Works and Days ;" 2dly, " The Theogony or, the Genealogy of the gods ; 3dly, " The Shield of Hercu- les which, by some, is doubted to have been written by Hesiod. 1. In the first of these poems, entitled " The Works and Days," Hesiod treats of agriculture, which requires, besides a great deal of labour, a prudent observation of times, seasons, and days. This poem is full of excellent sen- tences and maxims for the conduct of life. He begins it with a short but lively description of two sorts of disputes ; the one fatal to mankind, the source of quarrels, discords and wars ; and the other, infinitely useful and beneficial to man, as it sharpens their wits, excites a noble and generous emulation among them, and prepares the way for the invention and improvement of arts and sci- ences. He then gives an admirable description of the four different ages of the world ; the golden, the silver, the brazen and the iron age. The persons who lived in the golden age, ar^ those whom Jupiter after their death, turned hito so many GeniilF or spirits, and then appointed them as guardians over mankind, giving them a commission to go up and down the earth, invisible t# men, and to observe all their good and evil actions. This poem was Virgil's model in composing his Georgics, as he himself ac- knowledges in this verse : Ascrjeiimque cano Romana per opplda carmen.* ••And sing the Ascraean verse to Roman swains.'* The choice made by these two illustrious poets of this subject for the exer- cise of theii muse, shows in what honour the ancients held agriculture, and the feeding of cattle, the two innocent sources of wealth and plenty. It is much • Phn. 1, xvii. c. 5. t I" Homer'« Life, wlilch is jrefixed to her translation of th« lUa4 X Plln. 1. svii. c. 29 \ Quint. \. x. c. 1. 444 KISIORY or GRKECB. lo be deplored, that, in after ages, men departed from a taste «o agreeable (o nature, and so well adapted to the preservation of innocence and good man- ners. Avarice and luxury have entirely banished it from the world. Nimi* rum alii subiere ritus, circaque alia mentes hominum detinentur, et avaritia tantum artes coluntur,^ 2. " The Theogony" of Hesiod, and the poems of Homer, may be looked upon as the surest and most authentic archives and monuments of the theology oi the ancients, and of the opinion they had of their gods. P'or we are not to sup* p()se, that these poets were inventors of the fables which we read in their writings. They only collected, and transmitted to posterity, the doctrines of -the religion which they found established, and which prevailed in their time and country. 3. " The Shield of Hercules" is a separate fragment of a poem, wherein, it is pretended, Hesiod celebrated the most illustrious heroines of antiquity ; and it bears that title, because it contains, among other things, a long descrip- tion of the sbie.d of Hercules, concerning whom the same poem relates a par- ticular adventure. The poetry of Hesiod, in those places that are Sdsceptible of ornament, is very elegant and delightful, but not so sublime and lofty as that of Homer. Qiiintilian reckons him the chief in the middle manner of writing. Datur et palma in illo medio dicendi general ^ Archilochus. The poet Archilochus, born in Paros, inventor of the iam- bic verse, lived in the time of Candaules, king of Lvdia.§ He has this ad- vantage in common with Homer, according to Velleius Paterculus, that he carried at once that kind of poetry, which he invented, to a very great perfec- tion. The feet which gave their name to these verses, and which at first were the only sort used, are composed of one short and one long syllable. The iambic verse, such as was invented by Archilochus, seems very proper for the vehement and energetic style : accordingly we see, that Horace, speaking of this poet, says, that it was his anger, or n Iher his rage, that armed him with his iambics, for the exercising and exerting of his vengeance. Archilochum proprio rabies armavit iambo.|) And Quintilian says, he had an uncommon force of expression ; was full of bold thoughts, and of those strokes that are short, but keen and piercing ; in ' a word, his style was strong and nervous. IF The longest of his poems were said to be the best.** The same judgment has been universally passed upon the orations of Demosthenes and Cicero ; the latter of ^vhom says the same of the letters of his friend Atticus. The verses of Archilochus were extremely biting and licentious ; witness those he wrote against Lycambes, his father-in-law, which drove him to des- pair.tt For these two reasons, his poetry, however excellent it was esteemed jn other respects, was discountenanced in Sparta, as being more likely to cor- rupt the hearts and manners of young people, than to be useful in cultivating their understanding-.^^ We have only some very short fragments that remain of this poet. Such delicacy in a heathen people, in regard to the quality of the books which they thought young people should be permitted to read, is highly worthy of our notice, and justly reproaches many Christians. HippoNAX. This poet was of Ephesus, and signalized his wit some years after Archilochus, in the same kind of poetry, and with the same force aiid • Geor. 1. ii. y. 176. f Plin. in Proem. 1. xir. % Lib. i. c. 5. J A. M. 3230. Ant. J. C. 724. || Art. Poet. v. 79. If Summa in hoc vis elocutionis, cum valide turn brevet vibrantesque sentential, plurimum sanguinis at* que nervorum. — Q,uint. 1. x. c. J. Ut Aristopfaani Archilochi iambus, sic epistola long^issima qiieque optima videtur. — Cic. Epist. xi. 1. JO. ai Ajtlicwm. tt Hor. Epod. Od. vi. et Episl. xix I. i. J$ Lacedacmonii libros Archilochi c civitate sua exportari jusserunt, quod eorum parum verecundam ao j^udieam lectionem arbitrabantur. N.oluerunt cnim ealiberonim suorum animos imbni, nc plus moribus no- tteret, qusm ingeniis prode-sset. Itaque maximum poetam, aut certc summo proximum, quia domum wbi i^viwirrt obscwnis maled^ctis larernvcrat, oarminum cxilio tin']c' v^runt. — Vtil. Pat. 1. vi.c 3. HlSTOity OF CREECB rehemence. He n-as ugly, little, lean, and slender.* Two celebrated sculp- tors and brothers, Bupalus and Atlienis, (some call the latter Anthermus,^ di- verted themselves at his expense, and represented him in a ridiculous lorm. It is dangerous to attack satiric poets. Hipponax retorted their pleasantry with such keen strokes of satire, that they hanged themselves out of mortifi- cation : others say, they only quitted the city of Ephesus, where Hipponai lived. His malignant pen did not spare even those to whom he owed his life. How monstrous was this ! Horace joins Hipponax with Archilochus, and rep- resents them as two poets equally dangerous.f In the Anthologia there are ihree or four epigrams, which describe Hipponax as terrible, even after death. They admonish travellers to avoid his tomb, as a place from whence a dread- ful hail perpetually pours : cX)£t)y£ T3vxaXa{fr^i roKpov, Tjv(pf»jn. This poet was of Teos, a city of Ionia. He lived in the 72nd Olympiad Anacreon spent a great part of his time at the court of Polycrates. that happy tyrant of Samos ; and not only shared in all his pleasures, but was of his council. II Plato tells us, that Hipparchus, one of the sons of Fisistratus, •ent a vessel of fifty oars for Anacreon, and wrote him a most obliging letter, * Cic. dc Nat. Deor 1. i. n. 15. f Ccrte hoc est Deus, quod ct cum dicitur, non potest dici: cum asstimatur, non potest aestimari ; cum coroparatur, nOD potest comparari ; cum definitur, ipsa definitione crescit. — S. Aug', serro. de temp. cix. Nobis ad intellectum pectus ang-ustum est. FA ideo sic eum (UeumJ digne aestimamus, dum inacstimabi- lem dicimus. Eloquar quemadmodum sentio. Magnitudincm Dei qui se putat nosse, m'auit: qui noo vuU ■aiflucra, Qon norit. — Minut. Felix. t Vhmix I iv. \ Rh«t. 1. iii.c. S % H«r«a. 1. Ul. «. Ui HISTORY OF 13REECE. entreating him to come to Athens, where his excellent works would be esteemed and relished as they deserved.* It is said, the only study of this poet was joy and pleasure : and those remains we have of his poetry sufficiently confirm it. We see plainly in all his verses, thai his hand writes what his heart feels and dictates. It is impossible to express the elegance and delicacy of his poems ; nothing could be more estimable, had their object been more noble. Thespis. He was the first inventor of tragedy. I defer speaking of him till I come to give some account of the tragic poets. OF THE SEVEN WISE MEN OF GREECE. These men are too famous in antiquity to be omitted in the present history Their lives are written by Diogenes Laertius. Thales, the Milesian. If Cicero is to be believed, Thales was the most illustrious of the seven wise men.t It was he that laid the first foundations of philosophy in Greece^ and gave rise to the sect called the Ionic sect; because he, the founder of it, was born in the country of Ionia. He held water to be the first principle of all things ; and that God was that Intelligent being, by whom all things were formed from water.J The first of these opinions he had borrowed from the Egyptians, who, seeing the Nile to be the cause of the fertility of all their lands, might easily imagine from thence, that water was the principle of all things. He was the first of the Greeks that studied astronomy ; he had exactly fore- told the time of the eclipse of the sun that happened in the reign of Astyages, king of Media, which has been already mentioned. He was also the first that fixed the term and duration of the solar year among the Grecians. By comparing the size of the sun's body with that of the moon he thought he had discovered that the body of the moon was in solidity but the 720th part of the sun's body. . This computation is very far from being true, as the sun's solidity exceeds not only 700 times, but many millions M times, the moon's magnitude or solidity. But we know, that in all these mat- ters, and particularly in that of which we are now speaking, the first observa- tions and discoveries were very imperfect. When Thales travelled into Egypt, he discovered an easy and certain method for taking the exact height of the pyramids, by observing the time when the shadow of a body is equal in length to the height of the body itself.§ To show that philosophers were not so destitute, as some people imagined, of that sort of talents and capacity which is proper for business ; and that they would be as successful as others in growing rich, if they thought fit to apply themselves that way, he bought the fruit of all the olive-trees in the territory of Miletus, before they were in blossom. The profound knowledge he had of nature, had probably enabled him to foresee that the year would be ex- tremely fertile. It proved so in effect, and he made a considerable profit by bis bargain.ll He used to thank the gods for three things : that he was born a reasonable creature, and not a beast ; a man, and not a woman ; a Greek, and not a bar- barian. Upon his mother's pressing him to marry when he was young, he told her it was then too soon : and after several years were elapsed, he told her it was then too late. As he was once walking, and very attentively contemplating the stars, he chanced to fall into a ditch. Ha ! says a good old woman that was by, how will you perceive what passes in the heavens, and what is so infinitely above your head, if you cannot see what is just at your feet, and before your nose ? He was born the first year of the 35th, and died the first year of the 58tli Olympiad ; consequently he lived to be above ninety years of age.H Solon. His life has been already related at length. ♦ In Hipparch. p. 228. 229. f Princepi Thales, unui c s«5pt«m, cui sex rellquoi concessisse primas f^runt. — Lib. ir. Acad. Q,u f. 1S2. ; 'Chi Av dyokUv r^drTTii, $lt, Ms dvdrcturi HISTORY OF GKEBC£L 449 fectly well understood the meaning of this enigmatical answer, which was i tacit intimation to him, that, in order to secure his own life, he should cut off the most eminent of the Corinthian citizens. But if we may believe Plutarch, Pcriander did not approve so cruel an advice.* He wrote circular letters to all the wise men, inviting them to pass some time with him at Corinth, as they had done the year before at Sardis with Croesus.t Princes, in those days, thought themselves highly honoured, when they could have such guests in their houses. Plutarch describes an entertainment which Periander gave to these illustrious guests, and observes at the same time, that the decent simplicity of it, adapted to the taste and humour of the persons en- tertained, did him much more honour than could have been derived from the gre;\test magnificence. The subject of their discourse at table was sometimes grave and serious, at other times pleasant and gay. One of the company pro- posed this question, " Which is the most perfect popular government r ' That, answered Solon, where an injury done to any private citizen is considered an injury to the whole body : that said Bias, where the law has no superior ; that, answered Thales, where the inhabitants are neither too rich nor too poor : that, said Anacharsis, where virtue is honoured, and vice detested : said Pit- tacus, where dignities are always conferred upon the virtuous, and never upon the wicked : said Cleobulus, where the citizens fear blame more than punish- ment : said Chi'lo, wh*^re the laws are more regarded, and have more authority than the orators. From all these opinions, Periander concluded, that the most perfect popular government would be that which came nearest to aristocracy, where the sovereign authority is lodged in the hands of a few men of honour and virtue.^ While these wise men were assembled together at Periander's court, a cou- rier arrived from Amasis, king of Egypt, with a letter for Bias, with whom that king kept a close correspondence. The purport of this letter was, to consult him how he should answer a proposal made to him. by the king of Ethiopia, for his drinking up the sea ; in which case the Ethiopian king promised to re- sign to him a certain number of cities in his dominions ; but if he did not do it, then he, Amasis, was to give up the same number of his cities to the king of Ethiopia. It was usual in those days for princes to propound such enigmatical r^nd perplexing questions to one another. Bias answered him directly, and ad- f isea him to accept the offer, on condition that the king of Ethiopia would stop all the rivers that flow into the sea ; for the business was only to drink up the sea, and not the rivers. We find an answer to the same effect ascribed to iEsop. I must not here forget to take notice, that these wise men, of whom I have been speaking, were all lovers of poetry, and composed verses themselves, some of them a considerable number, upon subjects of morality and policy, which are certainly topics not unworthy of the muses. Solon, however, is re- proached for having written some licentious verses ; which may teach us what judgment we ought to form of these pretended wise men of the pagan world. § Instead of the wise men whom I have mentioned, some authors have substi- tuted others ; as Anacharsis, for example, Myso, Epimenides, Pherecydes The first of these is best known in history. Anacharsis. Long before Solon's time, the Scythian Nomades were in g^reat reputation for their simplicity, frugality, temperance and justice. Homer calls them a veiyjuSi nation.* Anacharsis was one of these Scythians, and of the royal family. A certain Athenian, once in company with Anacharsis, re- proached him with his country ; " my country, you think," replied Anacharsis, " is no great honour to me ; and you, sir, in my opinion, are no great honour to your country." His good sense, profound knowledge, and great experience, made him piss for one of the seven wise men. He wrote a treatise in vers* upon tlie military art, and composed another tract on the laws of Scythia. • In Conv. Sept. Sap. f Dice. Laert. in Tit. Per. t In Cmnv. Sept. Sap. i Plut. la p. 7a (j Ihad. lib xiii. w%f, ft. Vox. h 45a BlflTO^Y OF GREECE. He frequently visited Solon. It was in a conversation with him that he com- pared laws to cobwebs, which only entangle small flies, while wasps and hor- nets break through them. Being inured to the austere and poor life of the Scythians, he set little value * upon riches. Crcesus invited him to come and see him, and without doubt hinted to him, that he was able to mend his fortune. " I have no occasion for •your gold," said the Scythian in his answer ; " I came into Greece only to en^ rich my mind, and improve my understanding ; I shall be very well satisfied, if 1 return into my own country, not with an addition to my wealth, but with an increase of knowledge and virtue." Anacharsis however, accepted the in- vitation, and went to that prince's court. We have already observed, that Msop was much surprised and dissatisfied It the cold and indifferent manner in which Solon viewed the magnificence of the palace, and the vast treasures of Croesus ; because it was the master, and not the house, that the philosopher desired to have reason to admire. " Cer- tainly," says Anacharsis to iEsop on that occasion, " you have forgot your own fable of the fox and panther. The latter, for her highest virtue, could only show her fine skin, beautifully marked and spotted with different colours : the fox's skin, on the contraiy, was very plain, but contained within it a treasure of subtleties and stratagems of infinite value. This very image," continued the Scythian, " shows me your own character. You are affected with a splen- did outside, while you pay little or no regard to what is truly the man, that is, to that w^hich is in him, and consequently properly his." This w^ould be a proper place for an epitome of the life and sentiments of Pythagoras, who flourished in the time of which I have been speaking. But this 1 defer till I come to another volume, wherein I design to join a great many philosophers together, in order to give the reader the better opportunity of com- paring their respective doctrines and tenets. iEsop. 1 rank jEsop with the wis3 men of Greece, not only because he was often among them, but because he taught true wisdom with far more art than they do who teach it by rules and definitions.J iEsop was by birth a Phrygian. As to his mind, he had abundance of wit ; but with regard to his body, he was hump-backed, little, crooked, deformed, and of a very uncomely countenance ; having scarce the figure of a man ; and for a considerable time, almost without the use of speech. He ^vas moreover a slave ; and the merchant who had bought him, found it very difiicult to dispose of him, so extremely were people shocked at his unsightly figure and deformity. The first master he served sent him to labour in the fields ; either because he thought him incapable of any better employment, or only to remove so dis- agreeable an object from his sight. He was afterwards sold to a philosopher named Xanthus. I should never have done, should 1 relate all the strokes of wit, the spritely repartees, and the arch and humorous circumstances of his words and behaviour. One day his master, designing to treat some of his friends, ordered -^sop to provide the bebt things he could find in the market, ^sop thereupon made a large pro- vision of tongues, Avhich he desired the cook to serve up with different sauces. When dinner came, the first and second courses, the side dishes, and the re- moves were all tongues. " Did I not order you,' said Xanthus in a violent pas- sion," to buy the best victuals the market afforded?" ''And have I not obeyed your orders ?" said -^sop. " Is there any thing better than tongues ? Is not the tongue the bond of civil society, the key of sciences, and the organ of truth and reason ? By means of the tongue cities are built, and governments established and administered ; with that, men instruct, persuade, and preside * Plut. iu Conv. Sept. Sap. p. 155. t JEsopus ille e Phryg'ia fabulator, baud immerito sapient existimatui eit ; cum <^i^ utilia monitu «ua»tt que erant, non sercrc, non imperiose pr»cepit et censuit, ut phil«s«phis bim est, sed fe9tiv»t delect^bilet^W t polotri I commentus, res salubriter ac prospicienter animadversas, in mentes aninMsque hominuro, cum «v ^I'-ndi padam illccebra induit * Aul. Gcll. Noct Alt. lib. u. cap. 29. HISTORY OP GRCECB. m assemblies ; it is the instrument by which we atxjuit ourselves of the chief of ail our duties, the praising and adoring the gods. ** Well, then," replied Xanthus, thinking to catch him, " go to market again to-morrow, and buy me the worst things you can find. This same company will dine with me, and I have a mind to diversify my entertainment." JEsop, the next day, provided nothing but the very same dishes : telling his master, that the tongue was the worst thing in the world. " It is," said he, " the instrument of all strife and contention, the fomentor of law-suits, and the source of divisions and wars ; it is the oi^an of error, of lies, of calumny, and blasphemy." ^sop found it very difficult to obtain his liberty. One of the first uses he made of it was to go to Crcesus, who, on account of his great reputation and fame, had been long desirous of seeing him. The strange deformity of iEsop's person at first shocked the king, and much abated the good opinion he had conceived of him. But the beauty of his mind soon discovered itself through the coarse veil that covered it, and Croesus found, as iEsop said on another occasion, that we ought not to consider the form of the vessel, but the quality of the liquor it contains. He made several voyages into Greece, either for pleasure, or upon the af- fail's of Croesus- Being at Athens shortly after Pisistratus had usurped the sovereignty, and abolished the popular government, and observing that the Athenians bore this new yoke with great impatience, he repeated to them the table of the frogs, who demanded a king from Jupiter.* It is doubted whether the fables of ^sop, such as we have them, are all his, at least, in regard to the expression. Great part of them are ascribed to Planu- des, who wrote his life, and lived in the 14th century. ^sop is reckoned the author and inventor of this simple and natural man- ner of conveying instruction by tales and fables ; in which light Phaedrus speaks of him : i£sopu8 auctor quam materiam reperit, Hanc ego polivi versibus senariis. But the glory of this invention belongs properly to the poet Hesiod ;T an invention which does not seem to be of any great importance, or extraordi- nary merit, and yet has been much esteemed and made use of by the great- est philosophers and ablest politicians. Plato tells us that Socrates, a short time before he died, turned some of ^sop's fables into verse ;X and Plato himself earnestly recommends it to nurses to instruct their children in them betimes, in order to form their manners, and to inspire them early with the love of wisdom.§ Fables could never have been so universally adopted by all nations, as we see they have, if there was not a vast fund of useful truths contained in them, 4igreeably concealed under that plain and negligent disguise, in which their peculiar character consists. The Creator, certainly designing the prospect of nature for the instruction of mankind, endowed the brute part of it with various instincts, mclinations and properties, to serve as so many pictures in miniature to man of the several duties incumbent upon him, and to point out to him the good or evil qualities he ought to acquire or avoid. Thus has he ^iven us, for instance, a lively image of meekness and innocence in the lamb ; of fidelity and friendsnip in the dog; and on the contrary, of violence, rapa- ciousness and cruelty, m the wolf, the lion, and the tiger, and other species of animals. All this he has designed, not only as instiaiction, but as a secret re- Eroof to man, if he should be indifferent about those qualities in himself, which e cannot forbear esteeming or detesting, even in the brutes themselves. * Phedr. I. i. fab. 2. t lUae quoque fabulae, qu«, etiamci ori^inem non ab iCsopc acceperunt (nam videtui eanim primut auc tor Hesiodus,) nomine tamen Alsopi maxime celebrantur, ducere animos lolent, praecipue rustieortim et im. perit^iMm : qui ct simplicius quae ficta sunt audiunt, et capti voluptate, facile iis quibui delectantur cooven. tisnt^Q,mntil. 1 v. c. 12. t Plut. in Fbaedr. p. 60. j Lib. ii. d« Rep. p. 37t. HISTORY OF GREECE. This is a dumb language which all nations understand ; it is a sentiment mterwoven in our nature, which every man carries about with him. iEsop was the first of all the profane writers who laid hold of and unfolded it, "Tiadc happy applications of it, and attracted men's attentions to this sort of geuuin€ and natural instruction, which is within the reach of all capacities, and equally adapted to persons of all ages and conditions. ^ He was the first that, in ordei to give body and substance to virtues, vices, duties, and maxims of society, did, by an ingenious artifice and innocent fiction, invent the method of clothing them with graceful and familiar images borrowed from nature, by giving lan- guage to brute beasts, and ascribing sense and reason to plants and trees, and ?}\ ^orts of inanimate creatures. The fables of .^sop are void of all ornament, but abound with good sen.se, and are adapted to the capacity of children, for whom they were more parti* cularly composed. Those of Phaedrus are in a style somewhat more elevated and diffused, but at the same time have a simplicity and elegance that very much resembles the Attic spirit and style, in the plain way of writing, which was the finest and most delicate kind of composition in us** among the Gre- cians. Monsieur de la Fontaine, who was very sensible that the French tongue is not susceptible of the same elegant simplicity, has enlivened his fables with a spritely and original turn of thought and expression peculiar to himself, which no other person has yet been able to imitate. It is not easy to conceive why Seneca lajrs down as a fact, that the Romans, to his time, had never tried their pens in this kind of composition. Were the fables of Phaedrus unknown to him ?* Plutarch relates the manner of iEsop's death.t He went to Delphos with a great quantity of gold and silver, to offer, in the name of Croesus, a great sacrifice to Apollo, and tc give each inhabitant a considerable sum.J; A quar- rel which arose between him and the people of Delphos, occasioned him, after the sacrifice, to send back the money to Croesus, and to inform him that those lor whom it was intended had rendered themselves unworthy of his bounty The inhabitants of Delphos caused him to be condemned as guilty of sacri- lege, and to be thrown down from the top of a rock. The god, offended by this action, punished them with a plague and famine ; so that, to put an end to those evils, they caused it to be announced in all the assemblies of Greece, that if any one, for the honour of iEsop, would come and claim vengeance for his death, they would give him satisfaction. At the third generation, a nian fmm Samos presented himself, who had no other relation to Msoip, than being descended from the persons who had bought that fabulist. The Delphians made this man satisfaction, and thereby delivered themselves from the pesti- lence and famine.that distressed them.§ The Athenians, those excellent judges of true glory, erected a noble statue to this learned and ingenious slave ; to let all the people know, says Phpsdrus,!! that the ways of honour were equally open to all mankind, and that it wai Rot to birth, but merit, they paid so honourable a distinction. jEsopo ingentem statuam posuere Attici, Servumque collocarunt Etcrna in basi, Patere honoris seirent ut cuncti viam, Nec generi tribui, sed rzrtut' i^loriam. ♦ JJcB avdeo te usque co producerc, ut fabellas quoque el ^sopeos logos, inUntatum Romanis ingenm MnM.tolit& tibi vennstate connectas. — Senec. de Consol. ad Polyb. c. 27. t Dt lera Nuniinis rindicta, p. 550, 557. X ^^^^ minae, equml to 340 lirreit or nesHj $S9 j Herod, lib. ii. cap. 134. 1) Lib. ii. END or VOL. I If