The
Ancient History
Of The
Egyptians, Carthaginians,
Assyrians, Babylonians,
Medes and Persians,
Macedonians and Grecians
By
Charles Rollin
Late Principal of the University of Paris
Professor of Eloquence in The Royal College
And Member of the Royal Academy
Of Inscriptions and Belles Letters
Translated From The French
In Six Volumes
Vol. I.
New Edition
Illustrated With Maps and Other Engravings
London
Printed for Longman And Co., J. M. Richardson,
Hamilton And Co., Hatchard And Son, Simpkin And Co.,
Rivingtons, Whittaker And Co., Allen And Co.,
Nisbet And Co., J. Bain, T. And W. Boone, E. Hodgson,
T. Bumpus, Smith, Elder, And Co., J. Capes, L. Booth,
Bigg And Son, Houlston And Co., H. Washbourne,
Bickets And Bush, Waller And Son, Cambridge,
Wilson And Sons, York, G. And J. Robinson, Liverpool,
And A. And C. Black, Edinburgh
1850
CONTENTS
Preface.
Book The First. The Ancient History Of The Egyptians.
Part The First. Description of Egypt.
Chapter I. Thebais.
Chapter II. Middle Egypt, or Heptanomis.
Chapter III. Lower Egypt.
Part The Second. Of the Manners and Customs of the Egyptians.
Chapter I. Concerning The Kings And Government.
Chapter II. Concerning the Priests And Religion Of The Egyptians.
Chapter III. Of The Egyptian Soldiers And War.
Chapter IV. Of Their Arts And Sciences.
Chapter V. Of Their Husbandmen, Shepherds, and Artificers.
Chapter VI. Of The Fertility Of Egypt.
Part The Third. The History of the Kings of Egypt.
Book The Second. The History Of The Carthaginians.
Part The First. Character, Manners, Religion, Government.
Part The Second. The History of the Carthaginians.
Chapter I. The Foundation of Carthage.
Chapter II. The History of Carthage.
Book the Third. The History of the Assyrians.
Chapter I. The First Empire of the Assyrians.
Chapter II. The Second Assyrian Empire, both of Nineveh and Babylon.
Chapter III. The History of the Kingdom of the Medes.
Chapter IV. The History of the Lydians.
Maps.
Footnotes
[Illustration: Portrait of Charles Rollin.]
Charles Rollin. Born 1661. Died 1741.
[Transcriber’s Note: The French original of this work was published
1730-38. The translation was done by Robert Lynam.]
A Letter written by the Right Reverend Dr. FRANCIS ATTERBURY, late Lord
Bishop of Rochester, to M. ROLLIN, in commendation of this Work.
Reverende atque Eruditissime Vir,
Cum, monente amico quodam, qui juxta ædes tuas habitat, scirem te Parisios
revertisse; statui salutatum te ire, ut primùm per valetudinem liceret. Id
officii, ex pedum infirmitate aliquandiu dilatum, cùm tandem me impleturum
sperarem, frustrà fui; domi non eras. Restat, ut quod coràm exequi non
potui, scriptis saltem literis præstem; tibique ob ea omnia, quibus à te
auctus sum, beneficia, grates agam, quas habeo certè, et semper habiturus
sum, maximas.
Reverà munera ilia librorum nuperis à te annis editorum egregia ac
perhonorifica mihi visa sunt. Multi enim facio, et te, vir præstantissime,
et tua omnia quæcunque in isto literarum genere perpolita sunt; in quo
quidem Te cæteris omnibus ejusmodi scriptoribus facilè antecellere, atque
esse eundem et dicendi et sentiendi magistrum optimum, prorsùs existimo;
cùmque in excolendis his studiis aliquantulum ipse et operæ et temporis
posuerim, liberè tamen profiteor me, tua cum legam ac relegam, ea edoctum
esse à te, non solùm quæ nesciebam prorsus, sed etiam quæ anteà didicisse
mihi visus sum. Modestè itaque nimiùm de opere tuo sentis, cùm juventuti
tantùm instituendæ elaboratum id esse contendis. Ea certè scribis, quæ à
viris istiusmodi rerum haud imperitis, cum voluptate 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 bonâ in luce collocando
efficis, ut etiam iis, à quibus sæpissimè conspectæ sunt, elegantiores
tamen solito appareant, et placeant magis.
Certè, dum Xenophontem sæpiùs versas, ab illo et ea quæ à te plurimis in
locis narrantur, et ipsum ubique narrandi modum videris traxisse, stylique
Xenophontei nitorem ac venustam simplicitatem non imitari tantùm, sed
planè assequi: ita ut si Gallicè scisset Xenophon, non aliis ilium, in eo
argumento quod tractas, verbis usurum, non alio prorsùs more scripturum
judicem.
Hæc ego, haud assentandi causâ, (quod vitium procul à me abest,) sed verè
ex animi sententiâ dico. Cùm enim pulchris à te donis ditatus sim, quibus
in eodem, aut in alio quopiam doctrinæ genere referendis imparem me
sentio, volui tamen propensi erga te animi gratique testimonium proferre,
et te aliquo saltem munusculo, etsi perquam dissimili, remunerari.
Perge, vir docte admodùm et venerande, de bonis literis, quæ nunc neglectæ
passim et spretæ jacent, benè mereri: perge juventatem Gallicam (quando
illi solummodò te utilem esse vis) optimis et præceptis et exemplis
informare.
Quod ut facias, annis ætatis tuæ elapsis multos adjiciat Deus! iisque
decurrentibus sanum te præstet atque incolumem. Hoc ex animo optat ac
vovet
Tui observantissimus
FRANCISCUS ROFFENSIS.
Pransurum te mecum post festa dixit mihi amicus ille noster qui tibi
vicinus est. Cùm statueris tecum quo die adfuturus es, id illi
significabis. Me certè annis malisque debilitatum, quandocunque veneris,
domi invenies.
_6° Kal. Jan. 1731._
A Letter written by the Right Reverend Dr. FRANCIS ATTERBURY, late Lord
Bishop of Rochester, to M. ROLLIN, in commendation of this Work.
Reverend and most Learned Sir,
When I was informed by a friend who lives near you, that you were returned
to Paris, I resolved to wait on you, as soon as my health would admit.
After having been prevented by the gout for some time, I was in hopes at
length of paying my respects to you at your house, and went thither, but
found you not at home. It is incumbent on me therefore to do that 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 presents of
exceeding value, and such as do me very great honour. For I have the
highest 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 I 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 learnt 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 unacquainted with learning of the
same kind. For whilst you call to mind ancient 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, something 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
beauties, even to those who have seen and studied them most.
In your frequent correspondence with Xenophon, you have certainly
extracted from him, both what you relate in many places, and every where
his very manner of relating; you seem not only to have 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 sentiments and opinion. As you have enriched me with your
fine presents, which I know how incapable I am of repaying either in 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 the best precepts and examples.
Which that you may effect, may it please God to add many years to your
life, 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 intend to dine with me after
the holidays. When you have fixed upon the day, be pleased to let him know
it. Whenever you come, you will be sure to find one so weak with age and
ills as I am, at home.
_December 26, 1731._
PREFACE.
The Usefulness of Profane History, especially with regard to Religion.
The study of profane history would little deserve to have a serious
attention, and a considerable length of time bestowed upon it, if it were
confined to the bare knowledge of ancient transactions, and an
uninteresting inquiry into the æras when each of them happened. It little
concerns us to know, that there were once such men as Alexander, Cæsar,
Aristides, or Cato, and that they lived in this or that period; that the
empire of the Assyrians made way for that of the Babylonians, and the
latter for the empire of the Medes and Persians, who were themselves
subjected by the Macedonians, as these were afterwards by the Romans.
But it highly concerns us to know, by what methods those empires were
founded; by what steps they rose to that exalted pitch of grandeur which
we so much admire; what it was that constituted their true glory and
felicity; and what were the causes of their declension and fall.
It is of no less importance to study attentively the manners of different
nations; their genius, laws, and customs; and especially to acquaint
ourselves with the character and disposition, the talents, virtues, and
even vices of those 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; causing to
pass, as it were, in review before us, all the kingdoms and empires of the
world; and at the same time, all the great men who were any ways
conspicuous; thereby instructing us, by example rather than precept, in
the arts of empire and war, the principles of government, the rules of
policy, the maxims of civil society, and the conduct of life that suits
all ages and conditions.
We acquire, at the same time, another knowledge, which cannot but excite
the attention of all persons who 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; whereas
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
whence 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 at some length
elsewhere.(1)
But another object of infinitely greater importance, claims our attention.
For although profane history treats only of nations who had imbibed all
the absurdities of a superstitious worship; and abandoned themselves to
all the irregularities of which human nature, after the fall of the first
man, became capable; it nevertheless proclaims universally the greatness
of the Almighty, his power, his justice, and above all, the admirable
wisdom with which his providence governs the universe.
If the inherent conviction of this last truth raised, according to
Cicero’s observation,(2) 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 God disposes all events as supreme Lord and
Sovereign; that he alone determines the fate of kings and the duration of
empires; and that he transfers the government of kingdoms from one nation
to another, because of the unrighteous dealing and wickedness committed
therein.(3)
We discover this important truth in going back to the most remote
antiquity, 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 outward 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 counsels and deliberations; that nothing was
transacted but by the Almighty’s appointment; and that he alone guided(4)
and settled all mankind, agreeably to the dictates of his mercy and
justice: “The Lord scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of the
earth.”(5)
It is true indeed that God, even in those early ages, had a peculiar
regard for that people, whom he was one day to consider as his own. He
pointed out the country which he designed for them; he caused it to be
possessed by another laborious nation, who applied themselves to cultivate
and adorn it; and to improve the future inheritance of the Israelites. He
then fixed, in that country, the like number of families, as were to be
settled in it, when the sons of Israel should, at the appointed time, take
possession of it; and did not suffer any of the nations, which were not
subject to the curse pronounced by Noah against Canaan, to enter upon an
inheritance that was to be given up entirely to the Israelites. _Quando
dividebat Altissimus gentes, quando separabat filios Adam, constituit
terminos populorum juxta numerum filiorum Israel._(6) But this peculiar
regard of God to his future people, does not interfere with that which he
had for the rest of the nations of the earth, as is evident from the many
passages of Scripture, which teach us, that the entire succession of ages
is present to him; that nothing is transacted in the whole universe, but
by his appointment; and that he directs the several events of it from age
to age. _Tu es Deus conspector seculorum. A seculo usque in seculum
respicis._(7)
We must therefore consider, as an indisputable principle, and as the basis
and foundation of the study of profane history, that the providence of the
Almighty has, from all eternity, appointed the establishment, duration,
and destruction of kingdoms and empires, as well in regard to the general
plan of the whole universe, known only to God, who constitutes the order
and wonderful 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; _Notum à
seculo est Domino opus suum._(8)
God has vouchsafed to discover to us, in holy Scripture, a part of the
relation 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 writers. They alone display, and bring to light,
the secret thoughts of princes, their 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, what indeed is the
principal benefit to be derived from history, the judgment which the
Almighty forms both of princes and empires, and consequently, what idea we
ourselves ought to entertain of them.
Not to mention Egypt, that served at first as the cradle (if I may be
allowed the expression) of the holy nation; and which afterwards was a
severe prison, and a fiery furnace to it(9); 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 of Nineveh and Babylon
furnish a thousand proofs of the truth here advanced.
Their most powerful monarchs, Tiglath-Pileser, Shalmanezer, Sennacherib,
Nebuchadnezzar, and many more, were, in God’s hand, as so many
instruments, 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.”(10) He himself put
the sword into their hands, and appointed their marches daily. He breathed
courage and ardour into their soldiers; made their armies indefatigable in
labour, and invincible in battle; and spread terror and consternation
wherever they directed their steps.
The rapidity of their conquests ought to have enabled them to discern the
invisible hand which conducted them. But, says one of these kings(11) in
the name of the rest, “By the strength of my hand I have done it, and by
my wisdom; for I am prudent: 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 as one gathereth eggs that are left, have I gathered all the earth,
and there was none that moved the wing, or opened the mouth, or
peeped.”(12)
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
master: “The rod of his anger, and the staff in his hand.”(13) God’s
design was to chastise, not to extirpate his children. But Sennacherib
“had it in his heart to destroy and cut off all nations.”(14) What then
will be the issue of this kind of contest between the designs of God, and
those of this prince?(15) At the time that he fancied himself already
possessed of Jerusalem, the Lord, with a single blast, disperses all his
proud hopes; destroys, in one night, an hundred four score and five
thousand of his forces; and putting “a hook in his nose, and a bridle in
his lips”,(16) (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
haughtiness.
Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, appears still more visibly governed by a
Providence, to which he himself is an entire stranger, but which presides
over all his deliberations, and determines all his actions.
Being come at the head 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 it would be best for him to strike
into, debates for some time with himself, and at last casts lots. 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.(17)
One would imagine, at first sight, that this king had been prompted to
besiege 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 siege of Tyre.(18) 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
greatness of his riches, persuaded himself that he was “a god, and sat in
the seat of God.”(19) On the other side, he also designed to chastise the
luxury, the voluptuousness, and the pride of those haughty merchants, who
thought themselves kings 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) as their own aggrandizement. These were
the motives which prompted God himself to lead Nebuchadnezzar to Tyre; and
to make him execute, though unknowingly, his commands. _Idcirco ecce ego
adducam ad Tyrum Nabuchodonosor._
To recompense this monarch, whose army the Almighty had caused “to serve a
great service against Tyre”(20) (these are God’s own words;) and to
compensate the Babylonish troops, for the grievous toils they had
sustained during a thirteen years’ siege; “I will give,”(21) saith the
Lord God, “the land of Egypt unto Nebuchadnezzar, 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.”(22)
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 whilst a set of
adulating 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 pronounce upon them a sentence from which there lies
no appeal. The king of Babylon is cited before this tribunal, in which
there presides the 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 Nebuchadnezzar’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 inquiry end? At the
instant that Nebuchadnezzar, walking in his palace, and revolving, with a
secret complacency, his exploits, his grandeur and magnificence, is saying
to himself, “Is not this great Babylon that I built for the house of the
kingdom, by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty?”(23)
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 kingdoms of men, and gave them to whomsoever he
would.”(24)
This tribunal, 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 on authority
of every 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
glorious a function, he endued him with all the qualities which constitute
the greatest captains and princes: and caused that excellent education to
be given him, which the heathens so much admired, though they neither knew
the author nor true cause of it.
We see in profane history the extent and swiftness of his conquests, the
intrepidity 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, on their part, the grateful returns of love and
tenderness, which made them consider 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 perceive the secret
principle of so many exalted qualities, nor the hidden spring which set
them in motion.
But Isaiah discloses them, 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, marching before
him, conducting him from city to city, and from province to province;
“subduing nations before him, loosening the loins of kings, breaking in
pieces gates of brass, cutting in sunder the bars of iron,” throwing down
the walls and bulwarks of cities, and putting him in possession “of the
treasures of darkness, and the hidden riches of secret places.”(25)
The prophet also tells us the cause and motive of all these wonderful
events.(26) It was in order to punish Babylon, and to deliver Judah, that
the Almighty conducts Cyrus, step by step, and gives success to all his
enterprises. “I have raised him up in righteousness, and I will direct all
his ways.—For Jacob my servant’s sake, and Israel mine elect.”(27) But
this prince is so blind and ungrateful, that he does not know his master,
nor remember his benefactor. “I have surnamed thee, though thou hast not
known me.—I girded thee, though thou hast not known me.”(28)
Men seldom form to themselves a right judgment of true glory, and the
duties essential to regal power. The Scripture alone gives us a just idea
of them, and this it does in a wonderful manner, under the image of a very
large and strong tree, whose top reaches to heaven, and whose branches
extend to the extremities of the earth.(29) As its foliage is very
abundant, and it is bowed down with fruit, it constitutes the ornament and
felicity of the plains around it. It supplies a grateful shade, and a
secure retreat to beasts of every kind: animals, both wild and tame, are
safely lodged beneath it, the birds of heaven dwell in its branches, and
it supplies food to all living creatures.
Can there be a more just or more instructive idea of the kingly office,
whose true grandeur and solid glory does not consist in that splendour,
pomp, and magnificence which surround it; nor in that reverence and
exterior homage which are paid to it by subjects, and which are justly due
to it; but in the real services and solid advantages it procures to
nations, whose support, defence, security, and asylum it forms, (both from
its nature and institution,) at the same time that it is the fruitful
source of blessings of every kind; especially with regard to the poor and
weak, who ought to find beneath the shade and protection of royalty, a
sweet peace and tranquillity, not to be interrupted or disturbed; whilst
the monarch himself sacrifices his ease, and experiences alone those
storms and tempests from which he shelters all others?
I think that I observe this noble image, and the execution of this great
plan (religion only excepted) realized in the government of Cyrus, of
which Xenophon has given us a picture, in his beautiful preface to the
history of that prince. He has there specified a great number of nations,
which, though separated from each other by vast tracts of country, and
still more widely by the diversity of their manners, customs, and
language, were however all united, by the same sentiments of esteem,
reverence, and love for a prince, whose government they wished, if
possible, to have continued for ever, so much happiness and tranquillity
did they enjoy under it.(30)
To this amiable and salutary government, let us oppose the idea which the
sacred writings give us of those monarchs and conquerors so much boasted
by antiquity, who, instead of making the happiness of mankind the sole
object of their care, were prompted by no other motives than those of
interest and ambition. The Holy Spirit represents them under the symbols
of monsters generated from the agitation of the sea, from the tumult,
confusion, and dashing of the waves one against the other; and under the
image of cruel wild beasts, which spread terror and desolation
universally, and are for ever gorging themselves with blood and slaughter;
bears, lions, tigers, and leopards.(31) How strong and expressive is this
colouring!
Nevertheless, it is often from such destructive models, that the rules and
maxims of the education generally bestowed on the children of the great
are borrowed; and it is these ravagers of nations, these scourges of
mankind, they propose to make them resemble. By inspiring them with the
sentiments of a boundless ambition, and the love of false glory, they
become (to borrow an expression from Scripture) “young lions; they learn
to catch the prey, and devour men—to lay waste cities, to turn lands and
their fatness into desolation by the noise of their roaring.”(32) And when
this young lion is grown up, God tells us, that the noise of his exploits,
and the renown of his victories, are nothing but a frightful roaring,
which fills all places with terror and desolation.
The examples I have hitherto mentioned, extracted from the history of the
Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians, and Persians, prove sufficiently the
supreme power exercised by God over all empires; and the relation he has
thought fit to establish between the rest of the nations of the earth and
his own peculiar people. The same truth appears as conspicuously under the
kings of Syria and Egypt, successors of Alexander the Great: between whose
history, and that of the Jews under the Maccabees, every body knows the
close connection.
To these incidents I cannot forbear adding another, which though
universally known, is not therefore the less remarkable; I mean the taking
of Jerusalem by Titus. When he had entered that city, and viewed all the
fortifications of it, this prince, though a heathen, owned the
all-powerful arm of the God of Israel; and, in a rapture of admiration,
cried out, “It is manifest that the Almighty has fought for us, and has
driven the Jews from those towers; since neither the utmost human force,
nor that of all the engines in the world, could have effected it.”(33)
Besides the visible and sensible connection of sacred and profane history,
there is another more secret and more distinct relation with respect to
the Messiah, for whose coming the Almighty, whose work was ever present to
his sight, prepared mankind from far, even by the state of ignorance and
dissoluteness in which he suffered them to be immersed during four
thousand years. It was to make mankind sensible of the necessity of our
having a Mediator, that God permitted the nations to walk after their own
ways; while neither the light of reason, nor the dictates of philosophy,
could dispel the clouds of error, or reform their depraved inclinations.
When we take a view of the grandeur of empires, the majesty of princes,
the glorious actions of great men, the order of civil societies, and the
harmony of the different members of which they are composed, the wisdom of
legislators, and the learning of philosophers, the earth seems to exhibit
nothing to the eye of man but what is great and resplendent; nevertheless,
in the eye of God it was equally barren and uncultivated, as at the first
instant of the creation. “The earth was WITHOUT FORM AND VOID.”(34) This
is saying but little: it was wholly polluted and impure, (the reader will
observe that I speak here of the heathens), and appeared to God only as
the haunt and retreat of ungrateful and perfidious men, as it did at the
time of the flood. “The earth was corrupt before God, and was filled with
iniquity.”(35)
Nevertheless the Sovereign Arbiter of the universe, who, pursuant to the
dictates of his wisdom, dispenses both light and darkness, and knows how
to check the impetuous torrent of human passions, would not permit
mankind, though abandoned to the utmost corruptions, to degenerate into
absolute barbarity, and brutalize themselves, in a manner, by the
extinction of the first principles of the law of nature, as is seen in
several savage nations. Such an obstacle would have too much retarded the
rapid progress, promised by him to the first preachers of the doctrine of
his Son.
He darted from far, into the minds of men, the rays of several great
truths, to dispose them for the reception of others more important. He
prepared them for the instructions of the Gospel, by those of
philosophers; and it was with this view that God permitted the heathen
professors to examine, in their schools, several questions, and establish
several principles, which are nearly allied to religion; and to engage the
attention of mankind, by the brilliancy of their disputations. It is well
known, that the philosophers inculcate, in every part of their writings,
the existence of a God, the necessity of a Providence that presides over
the government of the world, the immortality of the soul, the ultimate end
of man, the reward of the good and punishment of the wicked, the nature of
those duties which constitute the band of society, the character of the
virtues that are the basis of morality, as prudence, justice, fortitude,
temperance, and other similar truths, which, though incapable of guiding
men to righteousness, were yet of use to scatter certain clouds, and to
dispel certain obscurities.
It is by an effect of the same providence, which prepared, from far, the
ways of the gospel, that, when the Messiah revealed himself in the flesh,
God had united together almost all nations, by the Greek and Latin
tongues; and had subjected to one monarch, from the ocean to the
Euphrates, all the people not united by language, in order to give a more
free course to the preaching of the apostles. The study of profane
history, when entered upon with judgment and maturity, must lead us to
these reflections, and point out to us the manner in which the Almighty
makes the empires of the earth subservient to the establishment of the
kingdom of his Son.
It ought likewise to teach us how to appreciate all that glitters most in
the eye of the world, and is most capable of dazzling it. Valour,
fortitude, skill in government, profound policy, merit in magistracy,
capacity for the most abstruse sciences, beauty of genius, delicacy of
taste, and perfection in all arts: These are the objects which profane
history exhibits to us, which excite our admiration, and often our envy.
But at the same time this very history ought to remind us, that the
Almighty, ever since the creation, has indulged to his enemies all those
shining qualities which the world esteems, and on which it frequently
bestows the highest eulogiums; while, on the contrary, he often refuses
them to his most faithful servants, whom he endues with talents of an
infinitely superior nature, though men neither know their value, nor are
desirous of them. “Happy is that people that is in such a case: Yea, happy
is that people, whose God is the Lord.”(36)
I shall conclude this first part of my preface with a reflection which
results naturally from what has been said. Since it is certain, that all
these great men, who are so much boasted of in profane history, were so
unhappy as not to know the true God, and to displease him; we should
therefore be cautious and circumspect in the praises which we bestow upon
them. St. Austin, in his _Retractions_, repents his having lavished so
many encomiums on Plato, and the followers of his philosophy; “because
these,” says he, “were impious men, whose doctrine, in many points, was
contrary to that of Jesus Christ.”(37)
However, we are not to imagine, that St. Austin supposes it to be unlawful
for us to admire and praise whatever is either beautiful in the actions,
or true in the maxims, of the heathens. He only advises us to correct
whatever is erroneous, and to approve whatever is conformable to rectitude
and justice in them.(38) He applauds the Romans on many occasions, and
particularly in his books _De Civitate Dei_,(39) which is one of the last
and finest of his works. He there shows, that the Almighty raised them to
be victorious over nations, and sovereigns of a great part of the earth,
because of the gentleness and equity of their government (alluding to the
happy ages of the Republic); thus bestowing on virtues, that were merely
human, rewards of the same kind, with which that people, blind on this
subject, though so enlightened on others, were so unhappy as to content
themselves. St. Austin, therefore, does not condemn the encomiums which
are bestowed on the heathens, but only the excess of them.
Students ought to take care, and especially we, who by the duties of our
profession are obliged to be perpetually conversant with heathen authors,
not to enter too far into the spirit of them; not to imbibe, unperceived,
their sentiments, by lavishing too great applauses on their heroes; nor to
give into excesses which the heathens indeed did not consider as such,
because they were not acquainted with virtues of a purer kind. Some
persons, whose friendship I esteem as I ought, and for whose learning and
judgment I have the highest regard, have found this defect in some parts
of my work, on the _Method of Teaching and Studying the Belles Lettres_,
&c.; and are of opinion, that I have gone too great lengths in the
encomiums which I bestow on the illustrious men of paganism. I indeed own,
that the expressions on those occasions are sometimes too strong and too
unguarded: however, I imagined that I had supplied a proper corrective to
this, by the hints which I have interspersed in those four volumes; and,
therefore, that it would be only losing time to repeat them; not to
mention my having laid down, in different places, the principles which the
Fathers of the Church establish on this head, declaring, with St. Austin,
that without true piety, that is, without a sincere worship of the true
God, there can be no true virtue; and that no virtue can be such, whose
object is worldly glory; a truth, says this Father, acknowledged
universally by those who are inspired with real and solid piety. _Illud
constat inter omnes veraciter pios, neminem sine verâ pietate, id est,
veri Dei vero cultu, veram posse habere virtutem; nec eam veram esse,
quando gloriæ servit humanæ_.(40)
When I observed that Perseus had not resolution enough to kill
himself,(41) I do not thereby pretend to justify the practice of the
heathens, who looked upon suicide as lawful; but simply to relate an
incident, and the judgment which Paulus Æmilius passed on it. Had I barely
hinted a word or two against that custom, it would have obviated all
mistake, and left no room for censure.
The ostracism, employed in Athens against persons of the greatest merit;
theft connived at, as it appears, by Lycurgus in Sparta; an equality of
goods established in the same city, by the authority of the state, and
things of a like nature, may admit of some difficulty. However, I shall
pay a more immediate attention to these particulars,(42) when the course
of the history brings me to them; and shall avail myself with pleasure of
such lights as the learned and unprejudiced may favour me by
communicating.
In a work like that I now offer the public, intended more immediately for
the instruction of youth, it were heartily to be wished, that not one
single thought or expression might occur that could contribute to
inculcate false or dangerous principles. When I first set about writing
the present history, I proposed this for my maxim, the importance of which
I perfectly conceive, but am far from imagining that I have always
observed it, though it was my intention to do so; and therefore on this,
as on many other occasions, I shall stand in need of the reader’s
indulgence.
As I write principally for young persons, and for those who do not intend
to make very deep researches into ancient history, I shall not burthen
this Work with a sort of erudition, that might have been naturally
introduced into it, but does not suit my purpose. My design is, in giving
a continued series of ancient history, to extract from the Greek and Latin
authors all that I shall judge most useful and entertaining with respect
to the transactions, and most instructive with regard to the reflections.
I should wish to be able to avoid, at the same time, the dry sterility of
epitomes, which convey no distinct idea to the mind; and the tedious
accuracy of long histories, which tire the reader’s patience. I am
sensible that it is difficult to steer exactly between the two extremes;
and although, in the two parts of history of which this first volume
consists, I have retrenched a great part of what we meet with in ancient
authors, they may still be thought too long: but I was afraid of spoiling
the incidents, by being too studious of brevity. However, the taste of the
public shall be my guide, to which I shall endeavour to conform hereafter.
I was so happy as not to displease the public in my first attempt.(43) I
wish the present Work may be equally successful, but dare not raise my
hopes so high. The subjects I there treated, _viz._ polite literature,
poetry, eloquence, and curious and detached pieces of history, gave me an
opportunity of introducing into it from ancient and modern authors,
whatever is most beautiful, affecting, delicate, 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 indulgent to the
manner in which they were presented to him; and besides, the variety of
the subjects supplied the want of those graces which 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 connected history, an
author is often obliged to relate a great many things that are not always
very interesting, especially with regard to the origin and rise of
empires; and these parts are generally overrun with thorns, and offer very
few flowers. However, the sequel will furnish 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 the valuable materials which the best
authors will supply. In the mean time, I must entreat the reader to
remember that in a wide-extended and beautiful region, the eye does not
everywhere 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, furnished by Pliny,(44)
some trees in the spring emulously shoot forth a numberless multitude of
blossoms, which by this rich dress (the splendour and vivacity of whose
colours charm the eye) proclaim a happy abundance in a more advanced
season: while other trees,(45) of a less gay appearance, 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 composition of history.
To adorn and enrich my own, I will be so ingenuous as to confess, that I
do not scruple, nor am ashamed, to rifle from all quarters, and that I
often do not cite the authors from whom I transcribe, because of the
liberty I occasionally 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 of the bishop of Meaux’s(46) _Universal History_, which is
one of the most beautiful and most useful books in our language. I have
also received great assistance from the learned Dean Prideaux’s
_Connection of the Old and New Testament_, in which he has traced and
cleared up, in an admirable manner, the particulars relating to ancient
history. I shall take the same liberty with whatever comes in my way, that
may suit my design, and contribute to the perfection of my Work.
I am very sensible, that it is not so much for a person’s reputation, thus
to make use of other men’s labours, 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 think myself very happy, if I can but
deserve the name of a good compiler, and supply my readers with a
tolerable history; who will not be over solicitous to inquire whether it
be an original composition of my own, or not, provided they are but
pleased with it.
I cannot determine the exact number of volumes which this Work will make;
but am persuaded there will be no less than ten or twelve.(47) Students,
with a very moderate application, may easily go through this course of
history in a year, without interrupting their other studies. According to
my plan, my Work should be given to the highest form but one. Youths in
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 whence I have extracted the facts which I here
relate. But the course itself of the history will naturally give me an
opportunity of mentioning them.
In the mean time, it may not be improper to take notice of the
superstitious credulity with which most of these authors are reproached,
on the subject of auguries, auspices, prodigies, dreams, and oracles. And
indeed, we are shocked to see writers, so judicious in all other respects,
lay it down as a kind of law, to relate these particulars with a
scrupulous accuracy; and to dwell gravely on a tedious detail of trifling
and ridiculous ceremonies, such as the flight of birds to the right or
left hand, signs discovered in the smoking entrails of beasts, the greater
or less greediness of chickens in pecking corn, and a thousand similar
absurdities.
It must be confessed, that a sensible reader cannot, without astonishment,
see persons among the ancients in the highest repute for wisdom and
knowledge; generals who were the least liable to be influenced by popular
opinions, and most sensible how necessary it is to take advantage of
auspicious moments; the wisest councils of princes perfectly well skilled
in the arts of government; the most august assemblies of grave senators;
in a word, the most powerful and most learned nations in all ages; to see,
I say, all these so unaccountably weak, as to make to depend on these
trifling practices and absurd observances, the decision of the greatest
affairs, such as the declaring of war, the giving battle, or pursuing a
victory, deliberations that were of the utmost importance, and on which
the fate and welfare of kingdoms frequently depended.
But, at the same time, we must be so just as to own, that their manners,
customs, and laws, would not permit men, in these ages, to dispense with
the observation of these practices: that education, hereditary tradition
transmitted from immemorial time, the universal belief and consent of
different nations, the precepts, and even examples of philosophers; that
all these, I say, made the practices in question appear venerable in their
eyes: and that these ceremonies, how absurd soever they may appear to us,
and are really so in themselves, constituted part of the religion and
public worship of the ancients.
This religion was false, and this worship mistaken; yet the principle of
it was laudable, and founded in nature; the stream was corrupted, but the
fountain was pure. Man, assisted only by his own light, sees nothing
beyond the present moment. Futurity is to him an abyss invisible to the
most keen, the most piercing sagacity, and exhibits nothing on which he
may with certainty fix his views, or form his resolutions. He is equally
feeble and impotent with regard to the execution of his designs. He is
sensible, that he is dependent entirely on a Supreme Power, that disposes
all events with absolute authority, and which, in spite of his utmost
efforts, and of the wisdom of the best concerted schemes, by raising only
the smallest obstacles and slightest disappointments, renders it
impossible for him to execute his measures.
This obscurity and weakness oblige him to have recourse to a superior
knowledge and power: he is forced, both by his immediate wants, and the
strong desire he has to succeed in all his undertakings, to address that
Being who he is sensible has reserved to himself alone the knowledge of
futurity, and the power of disposing it as he sees fitting. He accordingly
directs prayers, makes vows, and offers sacrifices, to prevail, if
possible, with the Deity, to reveal himself, either in dreams, in oracles,
or other signs which may manifest his will; fully convinced that nothing
can happen but by the divine appointment; and that it is a man’s greatest
interest to know this supreme will, in order to conform his actions to it.
This religious principle of dependence on, and veneration of, the Supreme
Being, is natural to man: it is imprinted deep in his heart; he is
reminded of it, by the inward sense of his extreme indigence, and by all
the objects which surround him; and it may be affirmed, that this
perpetual recourse to the Deity, is one of the principal foundations of
religion and the strongest band by which man is united to his Creator.
Those who were so happy as to know the true God, and were chosen to be his
peculiar people, never failed to address him in all their wants and
doubts, in order to obtain his succour, and to know his will. He
accordingly vouchsafed 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
truth, 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, any otherwise than by 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
credulity, they mistook for salutary warnings from Heaven; those obscure
and equivocal answers of oracles, beneath whose veil the spirits of
darkness concealed their ignorance; and, by a studied ambiguity, reserved
to themselves an evasion or subterfuge, whatever might be 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 aspect 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
nations 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 that passage of the Cyropædia,(48) where Cambyses, the father of
Cyrus, gives that young prince such noble instructions; instructions
admirably well adapted to form the great captain, and great king. He
exhorts him, above all things, to pay the highest reverence to the gods;
and not to undertake any enterprise, whether important or inconsiderable,
without first calling upon and consulting them; he enjoins him to honour
the priests and augurs, as being their ministers and the interpreters of
their will, but yet not to trust or abandon himself so implicitly and
blindly to them, as not, by his own application, to learn every thing
relating to the science of divination, of auguries and auspices. The
reason which he gives for the subordination and dependence in which kings
ought to live with regard to the gods, and the benefit derived from
consulting them in all things, is this: How clear-sighted soever mankind
may be in the ordinary course of affairs, their views are always very
narrow and bounded with regard to futurity; whereas the Deity, at a single
glance, takes in all ages and events. “As the gods,” says Cambyses to his
son, “are eternal, they know equally all things, 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, or ought not, to undertake. If it is
observed, that the deities do not give the like counsels to all men; we
are not to wonder at it, since no necessity obliges them to attend to the
welfare 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 history 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 deliberations, and the standard of their conduct.
I 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 æras: The year from the creation of
the world, which, for brevity’s sake, I mark thus, A.M.; those of the
foundation of Carthage and Rome; and lastly, the year before the birth of
our Saviour, which I suppose to be the 4004th year of the world; wherein I
follow Usher and others, though they suppose it to be four years earlier.
We shall now proceed to give the reader the proper preliminary information
concerning this Work, according to the order in which it is executed.
To know in what manner the states and kingdoms were founded, that have
divided the universe; the steps whereby they rose 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 necessary to trace things
back, in a manner, to the infancy of the world, and to those ages in which
mankind, being dispersed into different 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, and whose interests paternal
tenderness rendered equally dear to him as his own.
But although these masters enjoyed an independent authority, they made a
mild and paternal use of it. So far from being jealous of their 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 domestic
senate, being dictated with no other view than to promote the general
welfare; concerted 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 preserved in families as an hereditary polity, to
which they owed their peace and security.
But different motives gave rise to different laws. One man, overjoyed at
the birth of a first-born son, resolved to distinguish him from his future
children, by bestowing on him a more considerable share of his
possessions, and giving him 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. From these
different views, and others of the like nature, arose the different
customs of nations, as well as their rights, which are infinitely various.
In proportion as every family increased, by the birth of children, and
their marrying into other families, they extended their little domain, and
formed, by insensible degrees, towns and cities.
These societies growing, in process of time, very numerous; and the
families being divided into various branches, each of which had its head,
whose different interests and characters might interrupt the general
tranquillity; it was necessary to intrust one person with the government
of the whole, in order to unite all these chiefs or heads under a single
authority, and to maintain the public peace by an uniform administration.
The idea which men still retained of the paternal government, and the
happy effects they had experienced from it, prompted them to choose from
among their wisest and most virtuous men, him in whom they had observed
the tenderest and most fatherly disposition. Neither 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.(49)
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 bestowed upon them, a throne was erected, and a sceptre put into
their hands; homage was paid them, officers were assigned, and guards
appointed for the security of their persons; tributes were 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
preserve his dominion than to enlarge it, confined his ambition within the
limits of his native country.(50) But the almost unavoidable feuds which
break out between neighbours; jealousy against a more powerful king; a
turbulent and restless spirit; a martial disposition, or thirst of
aggrandizement; or the display of abilities; gave rise to wars, which
frequently ended in the entire subjection of the vanquished, whose cities
were possessed by the victor, and increased insensibly his dominions.
Thus, a first victory paving the way to a second, and making a prince more
powerful 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.(51)
But among these princes were found some, whose ambition being too vast to
confine itself within a single kingdom, broke over all bounds, and spread
universally like a torrent, or the ocean; swallowed up kingdoms and
nations; and fancied that glory consisted in depriving 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 bloody
traces of their progress! Such was the origin of those famous empires
which included a great part of the world.
Princes made a various use of victory, according to the diversity of their
dispositions or interests. Some, considering themselves as absolute
masters of the conquered, and imagining they were sufficiently indulged in
sparing their lives, bereaved them, as well as their children, of their
possessions, their country, and 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 field; and frequently forced them, by the most
inhuman treatment, to dig in mines, and ransack the bowels of the earth,
merely to satiate their avarice; and hence mankind were divided into
freemen and slaves, masters and bondmen.
Others introduced the custom of transporting whole nations into new
countries, where they settled them, and gave them lands to cultivate.
Other princes again, of more gentle dispositions, contented themselves
with only obliging the vanquished nations to purchase their liberties, and
the enjoyment of their laws and privileges by annual tributes laid on them
for that purpose; and sometimes they would suffer kings to sit peaceably
on their thrones, upon condition of their paying them some kind of homage.
But such of these monarchs as were the wisest and ablest politicians,
thought it glorious to establish a kind of equality betwixt the nations
newly conquered and their other subjects; granting the former almost all
the rights and privileges which the others enjoyed: and by this means a
great number of nations, that were spread over different and 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.
The history of the Carthaginians, that of the Assyrians, and the Lydians,
which occurs in the second volume, is supported by the best authorities;
but it is highly necessary to review the geography, the manners, and
customs of the different nations here treated of; and first with regard to
the religion, manners, and institutions of the Persians and Grecians;
because these show their genius and character, which we may call, in some
measure, the soul of history. For to take notice only of facts and dates,
and confine our curiosity and researches to them, would be imitating the
imprudence of a traveller, who, in visiting many countries, should content
himself with knowing their exact distance from each other, and consider
only the situation of the several places, their buildings, 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 government. Homer, whose design was to give, in the
person of Ulysses, a model of a wise and intelligent traveller, 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.
As Asia will hereafter be the principal scene of the history we are now
entering upon, it may not be improper to give the reader such a general
idea of it, as may at least make him acquainted with 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 river _Tanais_, which separates Europe
and Asia, and the river _Rha_, or _Volga_. Scythia is divided into two
parts; the one on this, the other on the other side of mount _Imaus_. The
nations of Scythia best known to us are the _Sacæ_ and the _Massagetæ_.
The most eastern parts are, SERICA, Cathay; SINARUM REGIO, China; and
INDIA. This last country was better known anciently than the two former.
It was divided into two parts; the one on this side the _Ganges_, included
between that river and the _Indus_, which now composes the dominions of
the Great Mogul; the other part was that on the other side of the Ganges.
The remaining part of Asia, of which much greater mention is made in
history, may be divided into five or six parts, taking it from east to
west.
I. UPPER ASIA, which begins at the river Indus. The chief provinces are
GEDROSIA, CARMANIA, ARACHOSIA, DRANGIANA, BACTRIANA, the capital of which
was _Bactra_; SOGDIANA, MARGIANA, HYRCANIA, near the Caspian sea; PARTHIA,
MEDIA, its chief city _Ecbatana_; PERSIA, the cities of _Persepolis_ and
_Elymais_; SUSIANA, the city of _Susa_; ASSYRIA, the city of _Nineveh_,
situated on the river _Tigris_; MESOPOTAMIA, between the _Euphrates_ and
_Tigris_; BABYLONIA, the city of _Babylon_ on the river Euphrates.
II. ASIA BETWEEN THE PONTUS EUXINUS AND THE CASPIAN SEA. Therein we may
distinguish four provinces. 1. COLCHIS, the river _Phasis_, and mount
_Caucasus_. 2. IBERIA. 3. ALBANIA; which two last-mentioned provinces now
form part of Georgia. 4. The greater ARMENIA. This is separated from the
lesser by the Euphrates; from Mesopotamia by mount _Taurus_; and from
Assyria by mount _Niphates_. Its cities are _Artaxata_ and _Tigranocerta_,
and the river _Araxes_ runs through it.
III. ASIA MINOR. This may be divided into four or five parts, according to
the different situation of its provinces.
1. _Northward_, on the shore of the Pontus Euxinus; PONTUS, under three
different names. Its cities are, _Trapezus_, not far from which are the
people called _Chalybes_ or _Chaldæi_; _Themiscyra_, a city on the river
_Thermodon_, and famous for having been the abode of the Amazons.
PAPHLAGONIA, BITHYNIA; the cities of which are, _Nicæa_, _Prusa_,
_Nicomedia_, _Chalcedon_ opposite to Constantinople, and _Heraclea_.
2. _Westward_, going down by the shores of the Ægean sea; MYSIA, of which
there are two. The LESSER, in which stood _Cyzicus_, _Lampsacus_,
_Parium_, _Abydos_ opposite to Sestos, from which it is separated only by
the Dardanelles; _Dardanum_, _Sigæum_, _Ilion_, or _Troy_; and almost on
the opposite side, the little island of _Tenedos_. The rivers are, the
_Æsepus_, the _Granicus_, and the _Simois_. Mount _Ida_. This region is
sometimes called Phrygia Minor, of which _Troas_ is part.
The GREATER MYSIA. _Antandros_, _Trajanopolis_, _Adramyttium_, _Pergamus_.
Opposite to this Mysia is the island of LESBOS; the cities of which are,
_Methymna_, where the celebrated _Arion_ was born; and _Mitylene_, which
has given to the whole island its modern name Metelin.
ÆOLIA. _Elea_, _Cumæ_, _Phocæa_.
IONIA. _Smyrna_, _Clazomenæ_, _Teos_, _Lebedus_, _Colophon_, _Ephesus_,
_Priene_, _Miletus_.
CARIA. _Laodicea_, _Antiochia_, _Magnesia_, _Alabanda_. The river
_Mæander_.
DORIS. _Halicarnassus_, _Cnidos_.
Opposite to these four last countries, are the islands CHIOS, SAMOS,
PATHMOS, COS; and lower, towards the south, RHODES.
3. _Southward_, along the Mediterranean;
LYCIA, the cities of which are, _Telmessus_, _Patara_. The river
_Xanthus_. Here begins mount _Taurus_, which runs the whole length of
Asia, and assumes different names, according to the several countries
through which it passes.
PAMPHYLIA. _Perga_, _Aspendus_, _Sida_.
CILICIA. _Seleucia_, _Corycium_, _Tarsus_, on the river _Cydnus_. Opposite
to Cilicia is the island of _Cyprus_. The cities are, _Salamis_,
_Amathus_, and _Paphos_.
4. _Along the banks of the Euphrates_, going up northward;
The LESSER ARMENIA. _Comana_, _Arabyza_, _Melitene_, _Satala_. The river
_Melas_, which empties itself into the Euphrates.
5. _Inland_:
CAPPADOCIA; the cities whereof are, _Neocæsarea_, _Comana Pontica_,
_Sebastia_, _Sebastopolis_, _Diocæsarea_, _Cæsarea_, otherwise called
_Mazaca_, and _Tyana_.
LYCAONIA and ISAURIA. _Iconium_, _Isauria_.
PISIDIA. _Seleucia_ and _Antiochia_ of _Pisidia_.
LYDIA. Its cities are, _Thyatira_, _Sardis_, _Philadelphia_. The rivers
are, _Caystrus_ and _Hermus_, into which the _Pactolus_ empties itself.
Mount _Sipylus_ and _Tmolus_.
PHRYGIA MAJOR. _Synnada_, _Apamia_.
IV. SYRIA, now named _Suria_, called under the Roman emperors the _East_,
the chief provinces of which are,
1. PALESTINE, by which name is sometimes understood all Judea. Its cities
are, _Jerusalem_, _Samaria_, and _Cæsarea Palestina_. The river _Jordan_
waters it. The name of Palestine is also given to the land of Canaan,
which extended along the Mediterranean; the chief cities of which were,
_Gaza_, _Ascalon_, _Azotus_, _Accaron_, and _Gath_.
2. PHŒNICIA, whose cities are, _Ptolemais_, _Tyre_, _Sidon_, and
_Berytus_. Its mountains, _Libanus_ and _Antilibanus_.
3. SYRIA, properly so called, or ANTIOCHENA; the cities whereof are,
_Antiochia_, _Apamia_, _Laodicea_, and _Seleucia_.
4. COMAGENA. The city of _Samosata_.
5. CŒLESYRIA. The cities are, _Zeugma_, _Thapsacus_, _Palmyra_, and
_Damascus_.
V. ARABIA PETRÆA. Its cities are, _Petra_, and _Bostra_. Mount _Casius_.
DESERTA. FELIX.
Of Religion.
It is observable, that in all ages and in every country, 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
forms calculated to evince such a belief. Into whatever country we cast
our eyes, we find priests, altars, sacrifices, festivals, religious
ceremonies, temples, or places consecrated to religious worship. Among
every people we discover a reverence and awe of the Divinity; an homage
and honour paid to him; and an open profession of an entire dependence
upon him in all their undertakings, in all their necessities, in all their
adversities and dangers. Incapable of themselves to penetrate into
futurity and to ensure success, we find them careful to consult 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 that which 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 all their private concerns, voyages,
journeys, marriages, diseases, the Divinity is still 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
thanksgiving, and by the oblation of the most precious of the spoils,
which they never fail to set apart as appertaining by right to the
Divinity.
No variety of opinion is discernible in regard to the foundation of this
belief. If some few persons, depraved by false philosophy, presume from
time to time to rise up against 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; whilst 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
universe, which neither the prejudice of the 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 forms a part of the nature of man; from an inward
sentiment implanted in his heart by the Author 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 disfigured their original beauty. There are still some
faint rays, some brilliant sparks of light, which a general depravity has
not been able to extinguish utterly; but they are incapable of dispelling
the profound darkness of the gloom which prevails almost universally, and
presents nothing to view but absurdities, follies, extravagancies,
licentiousness, and disorder; in a word, a hideous chaos of frantic
excesses and enormous vices.
Can any thing be more admirable than these principles laid down by
Cicero?(52) That we ought above all things to be convinced that there is a
Supreme Being, who presides over all the events of the world, and disposes
every thing as sovereign lord and arbiter: that it is to him mankind are
indebted for all the good they enjoy: 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 not by employing of riches and magnificence in the
worship that is paid to him, 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
some few who employed themselves in the study of the heart of man, and had
recourse to the first principles of his institution, of which they still
retained some valuable relics. But the whole system of their religion, the
tendency of their public feasts and ceremonies, the essence 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, were celebrated in their hymns or odes, and
proposed in some measure to the imitation, as well as adoration, of the
people; these were certainly very unfit means to enlighten the minds of
men, and to form them to virtue and morality.
It is remarkable, that in the greatest solemnities of the Pagan religion,
and in their most sacred and venerable mysteries, far from perceiving any
thing which can recommend virtue, piety, or the practice of the most
essential duties of ordinary 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 example 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 manner 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
particular account of the religion of the Greeks. I shall reduce this
subject, though infinite in itself, to four articles, which are, 1. The
feasts. 2. The oracles, 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 most relation to this history. I omit saying
any thing of sacrifices, having given a sufficient idea of them
elsewhere.(53)
Of the Feasts.
An infinite number of feasts were celebrated in the several cities of
Greece, and especially at Athens, of which I shall describe only three of
the most famous, the Panathenea, the feasts of Bacchus, and those of
Eleusis.
The Panathenea.
This feast was celebrated at Athens in honour of Minerva, the tutelary
goddess of that city, to which she gave her name,(54) as well as to the
feast of which we are speaking. Its institution was ancient, and it was
called at first the 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 the 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
contentions for the prizes of music and poetry. Ten commissaries, elected
from the ten tribes, presided on this occasion, to regulate the forms, and
distribute the rewards to the victors. This festival continued several
days.
In the morning of the first day a race was run on foot, in which each of
the runners carried a lighted torch in his hand, which they exchanged
continually with each other without interrupting their race. They started
from the Ceramicus, one of 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 for that
exercise was upon the banks of the Ilissus, a small river, which runs
through Athens, and empties itself into the sea at the Piræus.
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, delivered Athens from the tyranny of the Pisistratidæ; to which was
afterwards added the eulogium of Thrasybulus, who expelled the thirty
tyrants. The prize was warmly disputed, not only amongst the musicians,
but still more so amongst the poets; and it was highly glorious to be
declared victor in this contest. Æschylus is reported to have died with
grief upon seeing the prize adjudged to Sophocles, who was much younger
than himself.
These exercises were followed by a general procession, wherein was
carried, with great pomp and ceremony, a sail, embroidered with gold, on
which were curiously delineated the warlike actions of Pallas against the
Titans and Giants. This sail was affixed to a vessel which bore the name
of the goddess. The vessel, equipped with sails, and with a thousand oars,
was conducted from the Ceramicus to the temple of Eleusis, not by horses
or beasts of draught, but by machines 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, θαλλοφόροι, and these were chosen
for the symmetry of their shape, and the vigour of their complexion.
Athenian matrons, of great age, also accompanied them in the same
equipage.
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 that
inhabited Athens, carrying mattocks, instruments proper for tillage. Next
followed the Athenian women of the same age, attended by the foreigners 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, selected
from the best families in the city. The young men wore vests, with crowns
upon their heads, and sang a peculiar hymn in honour of the goddess. The
maids carried baskets, κανηφόροι, in which were placed the sacred utensils
proper to the ceremony, covered with veils to keep them from the sight of
the spectators. The person, to whose care those sacred things were
intrusted, was bound to observe a strict continence for several days
before he touched them, or distributed them to the Athenian virgins;(55)
or rather, as Demosthenes says, his whole life and conduct ought to have
been a perfect model of virtue and purity. It was 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 shall see that
Hipparchus offered this indignity to the sister of Harmodius, which
extremely incensed the conspirators against the Pisistratidæ. These
Athenian virgins were followed by the foreign young women, who carried
umbrellas and seats for them.
The children of both sexes closed the pomp of the procession.
In this august ceremony, the ῥαψωδοι were appointed to sing certain verses
of Homer; a manifest proof of the estimation in which the works of that
poet were held, even with regard to religion. Hipparchus, son of
Pisistratus, first introduced that custom.
I have observed elsewhere,(56) that in the gymnastic games of this feast a
herald proclaimed, that the people of Athens had conferred a crown of gold
upon the celebrated physician Hippocrates, in gratitude 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
republic, under the protection of Minerva, the tutelary goddess of their
city, and implored of her all kind of prosperity. From the time of the
battle of Marathon, in these public acts of worship, express mention was
made of the Platæans, 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 feasts of Bacchus. The latter were a kind of preparation for the
former, and were celebrated in the open field about autumn. They were
named Lenea, from a Greek word(57) that signifies a wine-press. The great
feasts were commonly called Dionysia, from one of the names of that
god,(58) and were solemnized in the spring within the city.
In each of these feasts the public were entertained with games, shows, and
dramatic representations, which were attended with a vast concourse of
people, and exceeding magnificence, as will be seen hereafter: at the same
time the poets disputed the prize of poetry, submitting to the judgment of
arbitrators, expressly chosen for that purpose, their pieces, whether
tragic or comic, which were then represented before the people.
These feasts continued many days. Those who were initiated, mimicked
whatever the poets had thought fit to feign of the god Bacchus. They
covered themselves with the skins of wild beasts, carried a thyrsus in
their hands, a kind of pike with ivy-leaves twisted round it; had drums,
horns, pipes, and other instruments calculated 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 drest in suitable masquerade. Many of them were mounted on asses;
others dragged goats(59) along for sacrifices. Men and women, ridiculously
dressed in this manner, appeared night and day in public; and imitating
drunkenness, and dancing with the most indecent gestures, ran in throngs
about the mountains and forests, screaming and howling furiously; the
women especially seemed more outrageous than the men; and, quite out of
their senses, in their furious(60) transports invoked the god, whose feast
they celebrated, with loud cries; εὐοῖ Βάκχε, or ὦ Ἴακχε, or Ἰόβακχε, or
Ἰὼ Βάκχε.
This troop of Bacchanalians was followed by the virgins of the noblest
families in the city, who were called κανηφόροι, from carrying baskets on
their heads, covered with vine leaves and ivy.
To these ceremonies others were added, obscene to the last excess, and
worthy of the god who chose to be honoured in such a manner. The
spectators gave into the prevailing humour, and were seized with the same
frantic spirit. Nothing was seen but dancing, drunkenness, debauchery, and
all that the most abandoned licentiousness can conceive of gross and
abominable. And this an entire people, reputed the wisest of all Greece,
not only suffered, but admired and practised. I say an entire people; for
Plato, speaking of the Bacchanalia, says in direct terms, that he had seen
the whole city of Athens drunk at once.(61)
Livy informs us,(62) that this licentiousness of the Bacchanalia having
secretly crept into Rome, the most horrid disorders were committed there
under cover of the night, and the inviolable secresy which all persons,
who were initiated into these impure and abominable mysteries, were
obliged, under the most horrid imprecations, to observe. The senate, being
apprized of the affair, put a stop to those sacrilegious feasts by the
most severe penalties; and first banished 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 misleading the mind of man.(63)
The Feast of Eleusis.
There is nothing in all 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 attributed 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, civility, and humanity;(64)
from whence her mysteries were called Θεσμοφόρια, and _Initia_. To these
first happy lessons fabulous antiquity ascribed the courtesy, politeness,
and urbanity, so remarkable amongst the Athenians.
These mysteries were divided into the less and the greater; of which the
former served as a preparation for the latter. The less were solemnized in
the month Anthesterion, which answers to our November; the great in the
month Boëdromion, which corresponds to August. Only Athenians were
admitted to these mysteries; but of them, each sex, age, and condition,
had a right to be received. All strangers were absolutely excluded, so
that Hercules, Castor, and Pollux, were obliged to be adopted as Athenians
in order to their admission; 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 themselves 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 a certain interval of time
prescribed them. That time was employed 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
temple; and to inspire the greater reverence and terror, the ceremony was
performed in the night. Wonderful things took place 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, heightened the terror and amazement; whilst the
person to be admitted, overwhelmed with dread, 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 rites gave
birth to many disorders, which the severe law of silence, imposed on the
persons initiated, prevented from coming to light, as St. Gregory
Nazianzen observes.(65) What cannot superstition effect upon the mind of
man, when once his imagination is heated? The president in this ceremony
was called Hierophantes. He wore a peculiar habit, and was not permitted
to marry. The first who served in this function, and whom Ceres herself
instructed, was Eumolpus; from whom his successors were called Eumolpidæ.
He had three colleagues; one who carried a torch;(66) another a
herald,(67) whose office was to pronounce certain mysterious words; and a
third to attend at the altar.
Besides these officers, one of the principal magistrates of the city was
appointed to take care that all the ceremonies of this feast were exactly
observed. He was called the king,(68) and was one of the nine Archons. His
business was to offer prayers and sacrifices. The people gave him four
assistants,(69) one chosen from the family of the Eumolpidæ, 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 sacrifices, from whence they derived their
name.(70)
The Athenians initiated their children of both sexes very early into these
mysteries, and would have thought it criminal to have let them die without
such an advantage. It was their general opinion, that this ceremony was an
engagement to lead a more virtuous and regular life; that it recommended
them to the peculiar protection of the goddesses (Ceres and Proserpine,)
to whose service they devoted themselves; and procured to them a more
perfect and certain happiness in the other world: whilst, 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. Diogenes the Cynic believed
nothing of the matter,(71) and when his friends endeavoured to persuade
him to avoid such a misfortune, by being initiated before his
death—“What,” said he, “shall Agesilaus and Epaminondas lie amongst mud
and dung, whilst 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 reason that rendered his religion
suspected.
Without this qualification none were admitted to enter the temple of
Ceres;(72) 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 was also a
capital crime to divulge the secrets and mysteries of this feast. Upon
this account Diagoras the Melian was proscribed, and had a reward set upon
his head. It very nearly cost the poet Æschylus his life, for speaking too
freely of it in some of his tragedies. The disgrace of Alcibiades
proceeded from the same cause. Whoever had violated this secresy, was
avoided as a wretch accursed and excommunicated.(73) Pausanias, in several
passages, wherein he mentions the temple of Eleusis, and the ceremonies
practised there, stops short, and declares he cannot proceed, because he
had been forbidden by a dream or vision.(74)
This feast, the most celebrated of profane antiquity, was of nine days’
continuance. It began the fifteenth of the month Boëdromion. After some
previous ceremonies and sacrifices on the first three days, upon the
fourth in the evening began the procession of “the Basket;” which was laid
upon an open chariot slowly drawn by oxen,(75) and followed by a long
train 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 Proserpine put the flowers she was gathering when Pluto seized
and carried her off.
The fifth day was called the day of “the Torches:” because at night the
men and women ran about with them in imitation of Ceres, who having
lighted a torch at the fire at mount Ætna, wandered about from place to
place in search of her daughter.
The sixth was the most famous day of all. It was called Iacchus, which is
the same as Bacchus, the son of Jupiter and Ceres, whose statue was then
brought out with great ceremony, crowned with myrtle, and holding a torch
in its hand. The procession began at the Ceramicus, and passing through
the principal places 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 numerous, and generally consisted of
thirty thousand persons.(76) The temple of Eleusis, where it ended, was
large enough to contain the whole of this multitude; and Strabo says, its
extent was equal to that of the theatres, which every body knows were
capable of holding a much greater number of people.(77) The whole way
reechoed with the sound of trumpets, clarions, and other musical
instruments. Hymns were sung in honour of the goddesses, accompanied with
dancing, and other extraordinary marks of rejoicing. The route before
mentioned, through the sacred way, and over the Cephisus, was the usual
one: but after the Lacedæmonians, in the Peloponnesian war, had fortified
Decelia, the Athenians were obliged to make their procession by sea, till
Alcibiades reestablished 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; without doubt
because 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 history
does not mention that it was ever interrupted, except upon the taking of
Thebes by Alexander the Great.(78) The Athenians, who were then upon the
point of celebrating the great mysteries, were so much affected with the
ruin of that city, that they could not resolve, in so general an
affliction, to solemnize a festival which breathed nothing but merriment
and rejoicing. It was continued down to the time of the Christian
emperors.(79) Valentinian would have abolished it, if Prætextatus, the
proconsul 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 of the Pagan solemnities.
Of Auguries, Oracles, &c.
Nothing is more frequently mentioned in ancient history, than oracles,
auguries, and divinations. No war was made, or colony settled; nothing of
consequence was undertaken, either public or private, without having first
consulted the gods. This was a custom universally established amongst the
Egyptian, Assyrian, Grecian, and Roman nations; which is no doubt a proof,
as has been already observed, that it was derived from ancient tradition,
and that it had its origin in the religion and worship of the true God. It
is not indeed to be questioned, but that God, before the deluge, did
manifest his will to mankind in different methods, as he has since done to
his people, sometimes in his own person and _vivá voce_, sometimes by the
ministry of angels or of prophets inspired by himself, and at other times
by apparitions or in dreams. When the descendants of Noah dispersed
themselves into different regions, they carried this tradition along with
them, which was every where retained, though altered and corrupted by the
darkness and ignorance of idolatry. None of the ancients have insisted
more upon the necessity of consulting the gods on all occasions by
auguries and oracles than Xenophon; and he founds that necessity, as I
have more than once observed elsewhere, upon a principle deduced from the
most refined reason and discernment. He represents, in several places,
that man of himself is very frequently ignorant of what is advantageous or
pernicious to him; that, far from being capable of penetrating the future,
the present itself escapes him; so narrow and short-sighted is he in all
his views, that the slightest obstacles can frustrate his greatest
designs; that the Divinity alone, to whom all ages are present, can impart
a certain knowledge of the future to him: that no other being has power to
facilitate the success of his enterprises; and that it is reasonable to
believe he will enlighten and protect those, who adore him with the purest
affection, who invoke him at all times with greatest constancy and
fidelity, and consult him with most sincerity and integrity.
Of Auguries.
What a reproach is it to human reason, that so luminous a principle should
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, with blind devotion, the most ridiculous puerilities: should
have made the most important affairs 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; the inspection of the entrails of beasts;
the liver’s being entire and in good condition, which, according to them,
did sometimes entirely disappear, without leaving any trace or mark of its
having ever subsisted! To these superstitious observances may be added,
accidental rencounters, words spoken by chance, and afterwards turned into
good or bad presages; forebodings, prodigies, monsters, eclipses, comets;
every extraordinary phenomenon, every unforeseen 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 philosophers, have actually given into 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 in his works, that he abstained a great
while from eating eggs, upon account of a dream, with which he has not
thought fit to make us further acquainted.(80)
The wisest of the Pagans knew well how to appreciate the art of
divination, and often spoke of it to each other, and even in public, with
the utmost contempt, and in a manner best adapted to expose its absurdity.
The grave censor 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 entrails 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?” Marcellus, who had been five times consul,
and was augur, said, that he had discovered a method of not being put to a
stand by the sinister flight of birds, which was, to keep himself close
shut up in his litter.
Cicero explains himself upon the subject of auguries without ambiguity or
reserve. Nobody was more capable of speaking pertinently upon it than
himself, (as M. Morin observes in his dissertation upon the same subject.)
As he was adopted into the college of augurs, he had made himself
acquainted with their most abstruse secrets, and had all possible
opportunity of informing himself fully in their science. That he did so,
sufficiently appears from the two books he has left us upon divination, in
which, it may be said, he has exhausted the subject. In the second,
wherein he refutes his brother Quintus, who had espoused the cause of the
augurs, he combats and defeats his false reasonings with a force, and at
the same time with so refined and delicate a raillery, as leaves us
nothing to wish; and he demonstrates by proofs, each more convincing than
the other, the falsity, contrariety, and impossibility of that art. But
what is very surprising, in the midst of all his arguments, he takes
occasion to blame the generals and magistrates, who on important
conjunctures had contemned the prognostics; and maintains, that the use of
them, as great an abuse as it was in his own opinion, ought nevertheless
to be respected, out of regard to religion, and the prejudices of the
people.(81)
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 auguries, the other by their
irreligious contempt and derision of them.
The principle of the first, founded on one side upon the ignorance and
weakness of man in the affairs of life, and on the other upon the
prescience of the Divinity and his almighty providence, was true; but the
consequence deduced from it in favour of auguries, false and absurd. They
ought to have proved that it was certain, that 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 in their system. These auguries and divinations
therefore were the effect and invention of the ignorance, rashness,
curiosity, and blind passions of man, who presumed to interrogate God, and
to oblige him to give answers upon every idle imagination and unjust
enterprise.
The others, who gave no real credit to any thing enjoined by the science
of augury, did not fail, however, to observe its trivial ceremonies
through policy, in order the better to subject the minds of the people to
themselves, and to reconcile them to their own purposes, by the assistance
of superstition: but by their contempt for auguries, and their inward
conviction of their falsity, they were 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 ridiculous, and
consequently unworthy a man of sense.
Both the one and the other behaved in this manner, because, having
mistaken 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 darkness, and to a reprobate mind; and, if we had not been
enlightened by the true religion, we, even at this day, should give
ourselves up to the same superstitions.
Of Oracles
No country was ever richer in, or more productive of oracles, than Greece.
I shall confine myself to those which were the most noted.
The oracle of Dodona, a city of the Molossians, in Epirus, was much
celebrated; where Jupiter gave answers either by vocal oaks,(82) or doves,
which had also their language, or by resounding basins of brass, or by the
mouths of priests and priestesses.
The oracle of Trophonius in Bœotia, though he was nothing more than a
hero, was in great reputation.(83) After many preliminary ceremonies, as
washing in the river, offering sacrifices, drinking a water called Lethe,
from its quality of 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 little cavern, the entrance of which was also
exceeding small. There they lay down upon the ground, with a certain
composition of honey in each hand, which they were indispensably obliged
to carry 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 revealed
to them; but not to all in the same manner. Some saw, others heard,
wonders. From thence they returned quite stupified, and out of their
senses, and were placed in the chair of Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory;
not without great need of her assistance to recover their remembrance,
after their great fatigue, 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,(84) which I omit, to avoid a tedious prolixity.
The temple and oracle of the Branchidæ, in the neighbourhood of Miletus,
so called from Branchus, the son of Apollo, was very ancient, and in great
esteem with all the Ionians and Dorians of Asia.(85) Xerxes, in his return
from Greece, burnt this temple, after the priests had delivered its
treasures to him. That prince, in return, granted them an establishment in
the remotest parts of Asia, to secure them against the vengeance of the
Greeks. After the war was over, the Milesians reestablished that temple
with a magnificence which, according 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 Branchidæ had settled, of
which their descendants were at that time in actual possession, punishing
in the children the sacrilegious perfidy of their fathers.
Tacitus relates something very singular, though not very probable, of the
oracle of Claros, a town of Ionia, in Asia Minor, near Colophon.(86)
“Germanicus,” says he, “went to consult Apollo at Claros. It is not a
woman that gives the answers there, as at Delphi, but a man, chosen out of
certain families, and almost always of Miletus. It is sufficient to let
him know the number and names of those who come to consult him. After
which he retires into a cave, and having drunk 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 ignorant, and knows nothing of
composing in measure. It is said, that he foretold to Germanicus his
sudden death, but in dark and ambiguous terms, according to the custom of
oracles.”
I omit a great number of other oracles, to proceed to the most famous of
them all. It is very obvious that I mean the oracle of Apollo at Delphi.
He 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, πυθέσθαι, because people came thither to consult
him. From thence the Delphic priestess was called Pythia, and the games
there celebrated, the Pythian games.
Delphi was an ancient city of Phocis in Achaia. It stood upon the
declivity, and about the middle, of the mountain Parnassus, built upon a
small extent of even ground, and surrounded with precipices, that
fortified it without the help of art.
Diodorus says,(87) that there was a cavity upon Parnassus, from whence an
exhalation rose, which made the goats dance and skip about, and
intoxicated the brain. A shepherd having approached it, out of a desire to
know the causes of so extraordinary an effect, was immediately seized with
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
neighbouring 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(88) that covered it. From thence she gave her oracles. The city of
Delphi rose insensibly round about this cave; and a temple was erected,
which, at length, became very magnificent. The reputation of this oracle
almost effaced, or at least very much exceeded, that of all others.
At first a single Pythia sufficed to answer those who came to consult the
oracle, as they did not yet amount to any great number: but in process of
time, when it grew into universal repute, a second was appointed to mount
the tripod alternately with the first, and a third chosen to succeed in
case of death, or disease. There were other assistants besides these to
attend the Pythia in the sanctuary, of whom the most considerable were
called prophets;(89) it was their business to take care of the sacrifices,
and to inspect them. To these the demands of the inquirers were delivered
by word of mouth, or in writing; and they returned the answers, as we
shall see in the sequel.
We must not confound the Pythia with the Sibyl of Delphi. The ancients
represent the latter as a woman that roved from country to country,
venting her predictions. She was at the same time the Sibyl of Delphi,
Erythræ, Babylon, Cumæ, and many other places, from her having resided in
them all.
The Pythia could not prophesy till she was intoxicated by the exhalation
from the sanctuary of Apollo. 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 permitted to consult the oracle.
These unfortunate days occasioned an oracle’s being given to Alexander the
Great worthy of remark. He went to Delphi 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. Alexander, 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!”(90) Upon which words he declared he would have no other
oracle, and was contented with that he had received.
The Pythia, before she ascended the tripod, was a long time 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,(91) like a penetrating fire, had diffused
itself through the entrails of the priestess, her hair stood upright upon
her head, her looks grew wild, she foamed at the mouth, a sudden and
violent trembling seized her whole body, with all the symptoms of
distraction and frenzy.(92) She uttered, at intervals, some words almost
inarticulate, which the prophets carefully collected, and arranged with a
certain degree of order and connection. After she had been a certain time
upon the tripod, she was reconducted to her cell, where she generally
continued many days to recover from her fatigue; and, as Lucan says,(93) a
sudden death was often either the reward or punishment of her enthusiasm:
Numinis aut pœna est mors immatura recepti,
Aut pretium.
The prophets had poets under them, who made the oracles into verses, which
were often bad enough, and gave occasion to remark that, it was very
surprising that Apollo, who presided over the choir of the muses, should
inspire his priestess no better. But Plutarch informs us, that it was not
the god who composed the verses of the oracle. He inflamed the Pythia’s
imagination, and kindled in her soul that living light, which unveiled all
futurity to her. The words she uttered in the heat of her enthusiasm,
having neither method nor connection, and coming only by starts, if that
expression may be used, from the bottom of her stomach, or rather(94) 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 herself composed verses, which, though not often, happened
sometimes. The substance of the oracle was inspired by Apollo, the manner
of expressing it was the priestess’s own: the oracles were however often
given in prose.
The general characteristics of oracles were ambiguity,(95) obscurity, and
convertibility, (if I may use that expression,) so that one answer would
agree with several various, and sometimes directly opposite, events. By
the help of this artifice, the dæmons, who of themselves are not capable
of knowing futurity, concealed their ignorance, and amused the credulity
of the Pagan world. When Crœsus was upon the point of invading the Medes,
he consulted the oracle of Delphi 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, Æacida, Romanos vincere posse.
I repeat it in Latin, because the equivocality, which equally implies,
that Pyrrhus could conquer the Romans, and the Romans Pyrrhus, will not
subsist 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 history of Crœsus,
the stratagem he made use of to assure himself of the veracity of the
oracle, which was, to demand of it, by his ambassador, what he was doing
at a certain time prefixed. The oracle of Delphi replied, in verse, that
he was causing a tortoise and a lamb to be drest in a vessel of brass,
which was really the case. The emperor Trajan made a similar trial of the
god at Heliopolis, by sending him a letter sealed up,(96) to which he
demanded an answer.(97) The oracle made no other return, than to command a
blank paper, well folded and sealed, to be delivered 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 written
nothing. The wonderful facility with which dæmons can transfer themselves
almost in an instant from place to place, made it not impossible for them
to give the two answers, which I have last mentioned, and to foretell in
one country, what they had seen in another; this is Tertullian’s
opinion.(98)
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
sacrilegious credulity of the Pagans, has sometimes permitted the dæmons
to have a 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 dæmons, or only to the wickedness
and imposture of men. Van dale, a Dutch physician, has maintained the
latter opinion, and Monsieur Fontenelle, when a young man, adopted it, in
the persuasion (to use his own words) that it was indifferent, as to the
truth of Christianity, 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 Strasburgh, has
refuted them both in a very solid treatise, wherein he demonstrates,
invincibly, from the unanimous authority of the Fathers, that dæmons were
the real agents in the oracles. He attacks, with equal force and success,
the rashness and presumption of the Anabaptist physician; who, calling in
question the capacity and discernment of those holy doctors, secretly
endeavoured to efface the high idea all true believers should entertain 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
principles 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 all ages, maintain, and attest, that the
devil was the author of idolatry in general, and of oracles in particular.
This opinion does not hinder 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 the
Grecian history, we have seen more than once the Delphic priestess suffer
herself to be corrupted by presents. It was from that motive, she
persuaded the Lacedæmonians to assist 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 drest up an oracle to
support the imposture of Lysander, when he endeavoured 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 themselves
with wooden walls.” Demosthenes, convinced that the oracles were
frequently suggested by passion or interest, and suspecting, with reason,
that Philip had instructed them to speak in his favour, boldly
declared,(99) that the Pythia “philippized;” and bade the Athenians and
Thebans remember that Pericles and Epaminondas, instead of listening to,
and amusing themselves with, the frivolous answers of the oracle, those
idle bugbears of the base and cowardly, consulted only reason in the
choice and execution of their measures.
The same father Baltus examines, with equal success, a second point in
dispute, namely, the cessation of oracles. Mr. Vandale, to oppose with
some advantage a truth so glorious to Jesus Christ, the subverter of
idolatry, had falsified the sense of the Fathers, by making them say,
“that oracles ceased precisely at the moment of Christ’s birth.” The
learned apologist for the Fathers shows, that they all allege that oracles
ceased after our Saviour’s birth, and the preaching of his Gospel; not on
a sudden, but in proportion as his salutary doctrines became known 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.
Tertullian, in one of his _Apologies_,(100) challenges the Pagans to make
the experiment, and consents that a Christian should be put to death, if
he did not oblige these givers of oracles to confess themselves devils.
Lactantius informs us, that every Christian could silence them by only the
sign of the cross.(101) 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 interment of certain bodies in
the neighbourhood. Those were the bodies of Christian martyrs, amongst
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 amongst
the Carthaginians, fathers and mothers, more cruel than wild beasts,
inhumanly giving up their children, and annually depopulating their
cities, by destroying the most vigorous of their youth, in obedience to
the bloody dictates of their oracles and false gods.(102) 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. “What greater evil,” cries Lactantius, “could they
inflict in their most violent displeasure, than thus 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 Delphi, 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
was carried to an inconceivable height, even in the minds 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 from the magnificence of the temple of Delphi, and the immense
riches amassed in it through the superstitious credulity of nations and
monarchs.
The temple of Delphi having been burnt about the fifty-eighth Olympiad,
the Amphictyons, those celebrated judges of Greece, took upon themselves
the care of rebuilding it.(103) They agreed with an architect for three
hundred talents, which amounts to nine hundred thousand livres.(104) The
cities of Greece were to furnish that sum. The inhabitants of Delphi were
taxed a fourth part of it, and collected contributions in all parts, even
in foreign nations, for that service. Amasis, at that time king of Egypt,
and the Grecian inhabitants of his country, contributed considerable sums
towards it. The Alcmæonidæ, a potent family of Athens, took upon
themselves the conduct of the building, and made it more magnificent, by
considerable additions of their own, than had been proposed in the model.
Gyges, king of Lydia, and Crœsus, one of his successors, enriched the
temple of Delphi with an incredible number of presents. Many other
princes, cities, and private persons, by their example, in a kind of
emulation of each other, had heaped up in it tripods, vases, tables,
shields, crowns, chariots, and statues of gold and silver of all sizes,
equally infinite in number and value. The presents of gold which Crœsus
alone made to this temple, amounted, according to Herodotus,(105) to
upwards of 254 talents; that is, about 762,000 French livres;(106) and
perhaps those of silver to as much. Most of these presents were in being
in the time of Herodotus. Diodorus Siculus,(107) adding those of other
princes to them, makes their amount ten thousand talents, or thirty
millions of livres.(108)
Amongst the statues of gold, consecrated by Crœsus in the temple of
Delphi, was placed that of his female baker, the occasion of which was
this:(109) Alyattes, Crœsus’s 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 struck with horror at the crime, (in
which she ought to have had no part at all,) gave Crœsus 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
Delphi. But, it may be said, could a person of so mean a condition deserve
so great an honour? Plutarch answers in the affirmative; 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 devastation.
It is not to be wondered at, that such immense riches should have tempted
the avarice of mankind, and exposed Delphi to being frequently pillaged.
Without mentioning more ancient times, Xerxes, who invaded Greece with a
million of men, endeavoured to seize upon the spoils of this temple. Above
an hundred years after, the Phoceans, near neighbours of Delphi, plundered
it at several times. The same rich booty was the sole motive of the
irruption of the Gauls into Greece under Brennus. The guardian god of
Delphi, if we may believe historians, sometimes defended this temple by
surprising prodigies; and at others, either from impotence or want of
presence of mind, suffered himself to be plundered. When Nero made this
temple, so famous throughout the universe, a visit, and found in it five
hundred fine brass statues of illustrious men and gods to his liking,
which had been consecrated to Apollo, (those of gold and silver having
undoubtedly disappeared upon his approach,) he ordered them to be taken
down, and shipping them on board his vessels, carried them with him to
Rome.
Those who are desirous of more particular information concerning the
oracles and riches of the temple of Delphi, may consult some dissertations
upon this subject, printed in the _Memoirs of the Academy of Belles
Lettres_,(110) of which I have 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 almost
all the festivals of the ancients; and for that reason it is proper that
they should find a place in this Work. Whether we consider their origin,
or the design of their institution, we shall not be surprised at their
being so prevalent in the best governed states.
Hercules, Theseus, Castor and Pollux, and the greatest heroes of
antiquity, were not only the institutors or restorers of them, but thought
it glorious to share in the exercise of them, and meritorious to succeed
therein. These subduers 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 new wreaths with which their brows were encircled in
the solemnization of these games, detracted from the lustre of those they
had before acquired. Hence the most famous poets made these combats the
subject of their verses; the beauty of whose poetry, whilst it
immortalized themselves, seemed to promise an eternity of fame to those
whose victories it celebrated. Hence arose that uncommon ardour which
animated all Greece, to tread in the steps of those ancient heroes, and
like them, to signalize themselves in the public combats.
A reason more solid, and originating in the very nature of these combats,
and of 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, strength of body generally decided
the victory. These athletic exercises supplied the place of those in use
amongst 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 from 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 or 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 the garb of comedians, capering,
jumping, skipping, and making variety of strange unnatural motions. We
shall see in the sequel, what opinion the wiser among the ancients had of
their professed combatants and wrestling-masters.
There were four 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 honour of
Jupiter Olympicus. The _Pythian_, sacred to Apollo Pythius,(111) so called
from the serpent Python, killed by him; they were celebrated at Delphi
every four years. The _Nemæan_, which took their name from Nemæa, a city
and forest of Peloponnesus, and were either instituted or restored by
Hercules, after he had slain the lion of the Nemæan 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(112) was the restorer of them, and they continued even after the
ruin of Corinth. 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 concourse of spectators and combatants from all
parts, a simple wreath was all the reward of the victors. In the Olympic
games, it was composed of wild olive. In the Pythian, of laurel. In the
Nemæan, of green parsley;(113) and in the Isthmian, of the same herb
dried. The institutors of these games wished that it should be implied
from hence, that honour alone, and not mean and sordid interest, ought to
be the motive of great actions. Of what were men not capable, accustomed
to act solely from so glorious a principle! We have seen in the Persian
war,(114) that Tigranes, one of the most considerable captains 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? Insensible to
interest, they combat only for glory!”(115) Which exclamation, though
looked upon by Xerxes as an effect of abject fear, abounds with sense and
judgment.
It was from the same principle that the Romans, whilst they bestowed upon
other occasions crowns of gold of great value, persisted always in giving
only a wreath of oaken leaves to him who had saved the life of a
citizen.(116) “O manners, worthy of eternal remembrance!” cried Pliny, in
relating this laudable 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!” _O mores æternos, qui tanta opera honore solo donaverint; et
cùm reliquas coronas auro commendarent, salutem civis in pretio esse
noluerint, clarâ professione servari quidem hominem nefus esse lucri
causâ!_
Amongst 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
attracted from all parts, than any of the rest.
If Pausanias may be believed,(117) 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 slipt in disguise amongst those who were training
the wrestlers. She was tried for the offence, and would have suffered the
penalty enacted by 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 very conformable with the manners of the Greeks, amongst whom
the ladies were very reserved, seldom appeared in public, had separate
apartments, called _Gynæcea_, and never ate at table with the men when
strangers were present. It was certainly inconsistent with decency to
admit them 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,(118) 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 reason 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
permitted to mortals to desire any thing beyond it. Cicero assures
us,(119) that with them it was no less honourable than the consular
dignity in its original splendour with the ancient Romans. And in another
place he says,(120) that to conquer at Olympia, was almost, in the
estimation of the Grecians, more great and glorious, than to receive the
honour of a triumph at Rome. Horace speaks in still stronger terms of this
kind of victory. He is not afraid to say,(121) that “it exalts the victor
above human nature; they were no longer men but gods.”
We shall see hereafter what extraordinary honours were paid the victor, of
which one of the most affecting was, to date the year with his name.
Nothing could more effectually stimulate their endeavours, and make them
regardless of expenses, than the assurance of immortalizing their names,
which, through all future ages would be enrolled in their annals, and
stand in the front of all laws made in the same year with the victory. To
this motive may be added the joy of knowing, that their praises would be
celebrated by the most famous poets, and form the subject of conversation
in the most illustrious assemblies; for these odes were sung in every
house, and formed a part in every entertainment. What could be a more
powerful incentive to a people, who had no other object and aim than that
of human glory?
I shall confine myself upon this head to the Olympic games, which
continued five days; and shall describe, in as brief a manner as possible,
the several kinds of 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 my use the riches of my brethren; and, in what I have
already said upon the Olympic games, have made very free with the late
Abbé Massieu’s remarks 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
racing. To these may be added the exercises of leaping, throwing the dart,
and that of the trochus or wheel; but as these were neither important nor
of any great reputation, I shall content myself with having only mentioned
them 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
Athletæ, or combatants.
Of the Athletæ, or Combatants.
The term Athletæ is derived from the Greek word ἆθλος, which signifies
labour, combat. This name was given to those who exercised themselves with
an intention to dispute the prizes in the public games. The art by which
they formed themselves for these encounters, was called Gymnastic, from
the Athletæ’s practising naked.
Those who were designed for this profession frequented, from their most
tender age, the Gymnasia or Palæstræ, which were a kind of academies
maintained 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 were
under was very hard and severe. At first they had no other nourishment
than dried figs, nuts, soft cheese, and a coarse heavy sort of bread,
called μάζα. They were absolutely forbidden the use of wine, and enjoined
continence; which Horace expresses thus:(122)
Qui studet optatam cursu contingere metam
Multa tulit fecitque puer, sudavit et alsit,
Abstinuit venere et vino.
Who in th’ Olympic race the prize would gain,
Has borne from early youth fatigue and pain,
Excess of heat and cold has often try’d,
Love’s softness banish’d, and the glass deny’d.
St. Paul, by a comparison drawn from the Athletæ, exhorts the Corinthians,
near whose city the Isthmian games were celebrated, to a sober and
penitent life. “Those who strive,” says he, “for the mastery, are
temperate in all things: Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown, but
we an incorruptible.” Tertullian uses the same thought to encourage the
martyrs.(123) He makes a comparison from what the hopes of victory made
the Athletæ endure. He repeats the severe and painful exercises they were
obliged to undergo; the continual denial and constraint, in which they
passed the best years of their lives; and the voluntary privation which
they imposed upon themselves, of all that was most pleasing and grateful
to their passions. It is true, the Athletæ did not always observe so
severe a regimen, but at length substituted in its stead a voracity and
indolence extremely remote from it.
The Athletæ, before their exercises,(124) were rubbed with oils and
ointments 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 modesty to convenience, and retrenching the apron
for the future. The Athletæ were naked only in some exercises, as
wrestling, boxing, the pancratium, and the foot-race. They practised a
kind of novitiate 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 Athletæ 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 were 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 competitors, without any regard to the royal dignity, opposed
his reception as a Macedonian, and consequently a barbarian and a
stranger; nor could the judges be prevailed upon to admit him, till he had
proved in due form his family originally descended from the Argives.
The persons who presided in the games were called _Agonothetæ_,
_Athlothetæ_, and _Hellanodicæ_: they registered the name and country of
each champion; and upon the opening of the games a herald proclaimed the
names of the combatants. They were then made to take an oath, that they
would religiously observe the several laws prescribed in each kind of
combat, and do nothing contrary to the established orders and regulations
of the games. Fraud, artifice, and excessive violence, were absolutely
prohibited; and the maxim so generally received elsewhere,(125) that it is
indifferent whether an enemy is conquered by deceit or valour, was
banished from these combats. The address of a combatant, expert in all the
niceties of his art, who knows how to shift and ward 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 prescribed, 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 to 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
wrestling of the angel with Jacob proves.(126) Jacob supported the angel’s
attack so vigorously, that the latter, perceiving he could not throw so
rough a wrestler, was reduced to make him lame 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 skill. Theseus was the first that reduced it to method, and
refined it by the rules of art. He was also the first who established the
public schools, called _Palæstræ_, where the young people had masters to
instruct them in it.
The wrestlers, before they began the combat, 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 making
the skin too slippery, rendered it difficult for them to take good hold of
each other, they remedied that inconvenience, sometimes by rolling
themselves in the dust of the Palæstra, sometimes by throwing a fine sand
upon each other, kept for that purpose in the Xystæ, 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
adversary upon the ground. Both strength and art were employed for this
purpose: they seized each other by the arms, drew forwards, pushed
backwards, used many distortions and twistings of the body; locking their
limbs into each other’s, seizing by the neck, throttling, pressing in
their arms, struggling, plying on all sides, lifting from the ground,
dashing their heads together like rams, and twisting one another’s necks.
The most considerable advantage in the wrestler’s art, was to make himself
master of his adversary’s legs, of which a fall was the immediate
consequence. From whence Plautus says in his _Pseudolus_, speaking of
wine, “He is a dangerous wrestler, he presently trips up the heels.”(127)
The Greek terms υποσκελίζειν and πτερνίζειν, and the Latin word
_supplantare_, seem to imply, that one of these arts consisted in stooping
down to seize the antagonist under the soles of his feet, and in raising
them up to give him a fall.
In this manner the Athletæ 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 was a third sort of wrestling, called Ἀκροχειρισμὸς,
from the Athletæ’s using only 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 pushing one another, by joining
the palms of their hands together; in twisting their fingers, wrists, and
other joints of the arm, without the assistance of any other member; and
the victory was his, who obliged his opponent to ask quarter.
The combatants were to fight three times successively, and to throw their
antagonists at least twice, before the prize could be adjudged to them.
Homer describes the wrestling of Ajax and Ulysses; Ovid, that of Hercules
and Achelous; Lucan, of Hercules and Antæus; and Statius, in his
_Thebaid_, that of Tydeus and Agylleus.(128)
The wrestlers of greatest reputation amongst the Greeks, were Milo of
Crotona, whose history I have related elsewhere at large, and Polydamas.
The latter, alone and without arms, killed a furious lion upon mount
Olympus, in 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, while the coachman whipt his horses in
vain to make them go forward. 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 called “immortal,” esteemed the most warlike of their troops,
were ordered to fall upon him. Our champion 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 arms,
called _Cestus_, and their heads with a sort of leather cap, to defend
their temples and ears, which were most exposed to blows, and to deaden
their violence. 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 combatants, and to add violence to their
blows.
Sometimes the Athletæ came immediately to the most violent blows, and
began their onset in the most furious manner. Sometimes whole hours passed
in harassing and fatiguing each other, by a continual extension of their
arms, rendering each other’s blows ineffectual, and endeavouring by that
sparring 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 most
careful to defend, by either avoiding or parrying the blows made at them.
When a combatant came on to throw himself with all his force and vigour
upon another, they had a surprising address in avoiding the attack, by a
nimble turn of the body, which threw the imprudent adversary down, and
deprived him of the victory.
However fierce the combatants were against each other, their being
exhausted by the length of the combat, would frequently reduce them to the
necessity of making a truce; upon which the battle was suspended by mutual
consent for some minutes, that were employed in recovering their fatigue,
and rubbing off the sweat in which they were bathed: after which they
renewed the fight, till one of them, by letting fall his arms through
weakness and faintness, explained that he could no longer support the pain
or fatigue, and desired quarter; which was confessing himself vanquished.
Boxing was one of the roughest and most dangerous of the gymnastic
combats; because, besides the danger of being crippled, the combatants ran
the hazard of their lives. They sometimes fell down dead, or dying upon
the sand; though that seldom happened, except the vanquished person
persisted too long 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 afterwards; 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 knocked 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 Apollonius Rhodius, the same battle of Pollux and
Amycus; in Virgil, that of Dares and Entellus; and in Statius, and
Valerius Flaccus, of several other combatants.(129)
Of the Pancratium.
The Pancratium was so called from two Greek words,(130) which signify that
the whole force of the body was necessary for succeeding in it. It united
boxing and wrestling in the same fight, borrowing from one its manner of
struggling and flinging, and from the other, the art of dealing blows and
of avoiding them with success. In wrestling it was not permitted to strike
with the hand, nor in boxing to seize each other in the manner of the
wrestlers; but in the Pancratium, it was not only allowed to make use of
all the gripes and artifices 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 Pancratiast in the Olympic
games (called Arrichion, or Arrachion,) perceiving himself almost
suffocated 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 extreme anguish of which obliged him to ask quarter at the very
instant that Arrichion himself expired. The Agonothetæ crowned Arrichion,
though dead, and proclaimed 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 κατωμάδιος, which signifies “borne upon the
shoulders,” given to this instrument by Homer, 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 for 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, palisades;
or in scaling of walls, when, to equal the height of them, several of the
besiegers mounted upon the shoulders of each other.
The Athletæ, in hurling the Discus, put themselves into the posture best
adapted to add force to their cast; that is, they advanced one foot, upon
which they leaned the whole weight of their bodies. They then poised the
Discus in their hands, and whirling it round several times almost
horizontally, to add force to its motion, they threw it off with the joint
strength of hands, arms, and body, which had all a share in the vigour of
the discharge. He that flung the Discus farthest was the victor.
The most famous painters and sculptors of antiquity, in their endeavours
to represent naturally the attitudes of the Discoboli, have left to
posterity many masterpieces in their several arts. Quintilian exceedingly
extols a statue of that kind, which had been finished with infinite care
and application by the celebrated Myron: “What can be more finished,” says
he, “or express more happily the muscular distortions of the body in the
exercise of the Discus, than the Discobolus of Myron?”(131)
Of the Pentathlum.
The Greeks gave this name to an exercise composed of five others. It is
the common opinion, that those five exercises were wrestling, running,
leaping, throwing the dart, and the Discus. It is believed that this sort
of combat was decided in one day, and sometimes the same morning: and that
to obtain the prize, which was single, it was required that a combatant
should be the victor in all those exercises.
The exercise of leaping, and throwing the javelin, of which the first
consisted in leaping a certain length, and the other in hitting a mark
with a javelin at a certain distance, contributed to the forming of a
soldier, by making him nimble and active in battle, and expert in flinging
the spear and dart.
Of Races.
Of all the exercises which the Athletæ cultivated with so much pains and
industry to enable them to appear in the public games, running held the
foremost rank. The Olympic games generally opened with races, and were
solemnized at first with no other exercise.
The place where the Athletæ exercised themselves in running was generally
called the _Stadium_ by the Greeks; as was that wherein they disputed in
earnest for the prize. As the lists or course for these games was at first
but one Stadium(132) in length, it took its name from its measure, and was
called the Stadium, whether precisely of that extent, or of a much
greater. Under that denomination was included not only the space in which
the Athletæ ran, but also that which contained the spectators of the
gymnastic games. The place where the Athletæ contended was called Scamma,
from its lying lower than the rest of the Stadium, on each side of which,
and at the extremity ran an ascent or kind of terrace, covered with seats
and benches, upon which the spectators were seated. The most remarkable
parts of the Stadium were its entrance, middle, and extremity.
The entrance of the course, from whence the competitors started, was
marked at first only by a line drawn on the sand from side to side of the
Stadium. To that at length was substituted a kind of barrier, which was
only a cord strained tight in the front of the horses or men that were to
run. It was sometimes a rail of wood. The opening of this barrier was the
signal for the racers to start.
The middle of the Stadium was remarkable only by the circumstance of
having the prizes allotted to the victors set up there. St.
Chrysostom(133) draws a fine comparison from this custom. “As the judges,”
says he, “in the races and other games, expose in the midst of the
Stadium, to the view of the champions, the crowns which they are to
receive; in like manner the Lord, by the mouth of his prophets, has placed
in the midst of the course, the prizes which he designs for those who have
the courage to contend for them.”
At the extremity of the Stadium was a goal, where the footraces ended, but
in those of chariots and horses they were to run several times round it
without stopping, and afterwards conclude the race by regaining the other
extremity of the lists, from whence they started.
There were three kinds of races, the chariot, the horse, and the footrace.
I shall begin with the last, as the most simple, natural, and ancient.
1. Of the Foot-race.
The runners, of whatever number they were, ranged themselves in a line,
after having drawn lots for their places. Whilst they waited the signal to
start, they practised, by way of prelude, various motions to awaken their
activity, and to keep their limbs pliable and in a right temper.(134) They
kept themselves in wind by small leaps, and making little excursions, that
were a kind of trial of their speed and agility. Upon the signal being
given they flew towards the goal, with a rapidity scarce to be followed by
the eye, which was solely to decide the victory. For the Agonistic laws
prohibited, under the penalty of infamy, the attaining it by any foul
method.
In the simple race the extent of the Stadium was run but once, at the end
of which the prize attended the victor, that is, he who came in first. In
the race called Δίαυλος, the competitors ran twice that length; that is,
after having arrived at the goal, they returned to the barrier. To these
may be added a third sort, called Δολιχὸς, which was the longest of all,
as its name implies, and was composed of several Diauli. Sometimes it
consisted of twenty-four Stadia backwards and forwards, turning twelve
times round the goal.
There were some runners in ancient times, as well among the Greeks as
Romans, who have been much celebrated for their swiftness. Pliny tells
us,(135) that it was thought prodigious in Phidippides to run eleven
hundred and forty Stadia(136) between Athens and Lacedæmon in the space of
two days, till Anystis of the latter place, and Philonides, the runner of
Alexander the Great, went twelve hundred Stadia(137) in one day, from
Sicyon to Elis. These runners were denominated ἡμεροδρόμους as we find in
that passage of Herodotus, which mentions Phidippides.(138) In the
consulate of Fonteius and Vipsanus, in the reign of Nero, a boy of nine
years old ran seventy-five thousand paces(139) between noon and night.
Pliny adds, that in his time there were runners, who ran one hundred and
sixty thousand paces(140) in the circus. Our wonder at such a prodigious
speed will increase, (continues he,)(141) if we reflect, that when
Tiberius went to Germany to his brother Drusius, then at the point of
death, he could not arrive there in less than four-and-twenty hours,
though the distance was but two hundred thousand paces,(142) and he
changed his carriage three times,(143) and went with the utmost diligence.
2. Of the Horse-races.
The race of a single horse with a rider was less celebrated among the
ancients, yet it had its favourers amongst the most considerable persons,
and even kings themselves, and was attended with uncommon glory to the
victor. Pindar, in his first ode, celebrates a victory of this kind,
obtained by Hiero, king of Syracuse, to whom he gives the title of Κέλης,
that is, “Victor in the horse-race;” which name was given to the horses
carrying only a single rider, Κέλητες. Sometimes the rider led another
horse by the bridle, and then the horses were called _Desultorii_, and
their riders _Desultores_; because, after a number of turns in the
Stadium, they changed horses, by dexterously vaulting from one to the
other. A surprising address was necessary upon this occasion, especially
in an age unacquainted with the use of stirrups, and when the horses had
no saddles, which made the leap still more difficult. Among the African
troops there were also cavalry,(144) called _Desultores_, who vaulted from
one horse to another, as occasion required; and these were generally
Numidians.
3. Of the Chariot-races.
This kind of race was the most renowned of all the exercises used in the
games of the ancients, and that from whence most honour redounded to the
victors; which is not to be wondered at, if we consider whence it arose.
It is plain that it was derived from the constant custom of princes,
heroes, and great men, of fighting in battle upon chariots. Homer has an
infinity of examples of this kind. This custom being admitted, it is
natural to suppose it very agreeable to these heroes, to have their
charioteers as expert as 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 practise it very
much, in order to succeed. The high rank of the persons who made use of
chariots ennobled, as it always happens, an exercise peculiar to them. The
other exercises were adapted to private soldiers and horsemen, as
wrestling, running, and the single horse-race; but the use of chariots in
the field was always reserved to princes, and generals of armies.
Hence it was, that all those who presented themselves 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. Dionysius, who reigned there long after them, carried the
same ambition much higher. Philip of Macedon had these victories stampt
upon his coins, and seemed as much gratified with them as with those
obtained against the enemies of his state. All the world knows the answer
of Alexander the Great on this subject.(145) When his friends asked him
whether he would not dispute the prize of the races in these games? “Yes,”
said he, “if kings were to be my antagonists.” 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, ranged abreast;
_bigæ_, _quadrigæ_. Sometimes mules supplied the place of horses, and then
the chariot was called ἀπήνη. 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, τεθρίππῳ; another by one drawn by mules,
ἀπήνη; and the third by a single horse, κέλητι, 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
indifferent circumstance as 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 consequently 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 was 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 antagonist might cut between him,
and get foremost.
It is obvious that these chariot-races could not be run without some
danger; for as the motion(146) of the wheels was very rapid, and it was
requisite to graze against the boundary in turning, the least error in
driving would have broken the chariot in pieces, and might have
dangerously wounded the charioteer. An example of which we find in the
_Electra_ of Sophocles, who gives an admirable description of a
chariot-race run by ten competitors. The pretended Orestes, at the twelfth
and last round, which was to decide the victory, having only one
antagonist, the rest having been thrown out, was so unfortunate as to
break one of his wheels against the boundary, and falling out of his seat
entangled in the reins, the horses dragged him violently forwards 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-race.(147) “My son,”
says he, “drive your horses as near as possible to the boundary; for which
reason, always inclining your body over your chariot, get the left of your
competitors, and encouraging the horse on the right, give him the rein,
whilst the near horse, hard held, turns the boundary so close that the
nave of the wheel seems to graze upon it; but have a care of running
against the stone, lest you wound your horses, and dash the chariot in
pieces.”
Father Montfaucon mentions a difficulty, in his opinion of much
consequence, 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 the first place, being nearest the boundary at the end of the
career, and having but a small compass to describe in turning about it,
had less way to make than the second, third, fourth, &c. 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 must happen,
admitting the Stadium was to be run round twelve times, gave such a
superiority to the first, as seemed to assure 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
continued 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 Potidæa 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 delivered of a son. Plutarch seems to insinuate, that Philip was
equally delighted with each of these circumstances.(148)
Hiero sent horses to Olympia, to run for the prize, and caused a
magnificent pavilion to be erected for them.(149) Upon this occasion
Themistocles harangued the Greeks, to persuade them to pull down the
tyrant’s pavilion, 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.
No one ever carried the ambition of making a great figure in the public
games of Greece so far as Alcibiades,(150) 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 sent, as he did, seven chariots at once to the Olympic
games, wherein he carried 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. The
victor, after having made a sumptuous sacrifice to Jupiter, gave a
magnificent feast to the innumerable multitude of spectators at the games.
It is not easy to comprehend, how the wealth of a private person should
suffice for so enormous an expense: but Antisthenes, the scholar of
Socrates, who relates what he saw, informs us, that many cities of the
allies, in emulation of each other, supplied Alcibiades with all things
necessary for the support of such incredible magnificence; equipages,
horses, tents, sacrifices, the most exquisite provisions, the most
delicate wines; in a word, all that was necessary to the support of his
table or train. The passage is remarkable; for the same author assures us,
that this was not only done when Alcibiades went to the Olympic games, but
in all his military 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 sacrifices, and provisions for his table; and Lesbos
gave him wine, with whatever else was requisite 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; and that many of
them obtained it. Cynisca, sister of Agesilaus, king of Sparta, first
opened this new path of glory to her sex, and was proclaimed conqueror in
the race of chariots with four horses.(151) This victory, of which till
then there had been no example, did not fail of being celebrated with all
possible splendour.(152) A magnificent monument was erected at Sparta in
honour of Cynisca;(153) and the Lacedæmonians, though otherwise very
little sensible to the charms of poetry, appointed a poet to transmit this
new triumph to posterity, and to immortalize its memory by an inscription
in verse. She herself dedicated a chariot of brass, drawn by four horses,
in the temple of Delphi;(154) in which the charioteer was also
represented; a certain proof that she did not drive it herself. In process
of time, the picture of Cynisca, drawn by the famous Apelles, was annexed
to it, and the whole adorned with many inscriptions in honour of that
Spartan heroine.(155)
Of the honours and rewards granted to the victors.
These honours and rewards were of several kinds. The acclamations of the
spectators in honour of the victors were only a prelude to the prizes
designed them. These prizes were different wreaths of wild olive, pine,
parsley, or laurel, according to the different places where the games were
celebrated. Those crowns were always attended with branches of palm, that
the victors carried in their right hands; which custom, according to
Plutarch,(156) arose (perhaps) from a property of the palm-tree, which
displays new vigour the more endeavours are used to crush or bend it, and
is a symbol of the courage and resistance of the champion who had obtained
the prize. As he might be 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 review
before the people, whilst they redoubled their acclamations and applauses
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 entry
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 private individuals, who regaled not only their families and
friends, but often a great part of the spectators. Alcibiades,(157) after
having sacrificed to the Olympian Jupiter, which was always the first care
of the victor, treated the whole assembly. Leophron did the same, as
Athenæus reports;(158) who adds, that Empedocles of Agrigentum, having
conquered in the same games, and not having it in his power, being a
Pythagorean, to regale the people with flesh or fish, caused an ox to be
made of a paste, composed of myrrh, incense, and all sorts of spices, of
which pieces were given to all who were present.
One of the most honourable privileges granted to the Athletic victors, was
the right of precedency at the public games. At Sparta it was a custom for
the king to take them with him in military expeditions, to fight near his
person, and to be his guard; which, with reason, was judged very
honourable. Another privilege, in which advantage was united with honour,
was that of being maintained for the rest of their lives at the expense of
their country. That this expense might not become too chargeable to the
state, Solon(159) reduced the pension of a victor in the Olympic games to
five hundred drachmas;(160) in the Isthmian to a hundred;(161) and in the
rest in proportion. The victor and his country considered this pension,
less as a relief of the champion’s indigence, than as a mark of honour and
distinction. They were also exempted from all civil offices and
employments.
The celebration of the games being over, one of the first cares of the
magistrates, who presided in them, was to inscribe, in the public
register, the name and country of the Athletæ who had carried the prizes,
and to annex the species of combat in which they had been victorious. The
chariot-race had the preference to all other games. Hence the historians,
who date occurrences by the Olympiads, as Thucydides, Dionysius of
Halicarnassus, 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 Athletæ were amongst the Greeks one of the
principal subjects of their lyric poetry. We find, that all the odes of
the four books 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 in to the champion’s assistance, incapable alone of inspiring
all the enthusiasm necessary, 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 himself. Before Pindar, the poet
Simonides practised the same manner of writing, intermingling the praises
of the gods and heroes with those of the champions, whose victories he
sang. It is related upon this head,(162) 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 highest
praises to the champion, expatiated in a long digression to the honour of
Castor and Pollux. Scopas, satisfied in appearance with the performance of
Simonides, paid him however only the third part of the sum agreed on,
referring him for the remainder to the Tyndaridæ, whom he had celebrated
so well. And in fact he was well paid by them, if we may believe the
sequel; for, at the feast given by the champion, whilst 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, when 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
the very place where they had been crowned, and sometimes in that of their
birth also; which was commonly done at the expense of their country.
Amongst the statues which adorned Olympia, were those of several children
of ten or twelve years old, who had obtained the prize at that age in the
Olympic games. They did not only raise such monuments to the champions,
but to the very horses, to whose swiftness they were indebted for the
Agonistic crown: and Pausanias(163) mentions one, which was erected in
honour of a mare, called Aura, whose history is worth repeating. Phidolas
her rider, having fallen off in the beginning of the race, the mare
continued to run in the same manner as if he had been upon her back. She
outstripped all the rest; and upon the sound of the trumpets, which was
usual toward the end of the race to animate the competitors, she redoubled
her vigour and courage, turned round the goal; and, as if she had been
sensible that she had gained the victory, presented herself before the
judges of the games. The Eleans declared Phidolas victor, with permission
to erect a monument to himself and the mare, that had served him so well.
The different Taste of the Greeks and Romans, in regard to Public Shows.
Before I make an end of these remarks upon the combats and games so much
in estimation amongst the Greeks, I beg the reader’s permission to make a
reflection, that may serve to explain the difference of character between
the Greeks and Romans, with regard to this subject.
The most common entertainment of the latter, at which the fair sex, by
nature tender and compassionate, were present in throngs, was the combat
of the gladiators, and of men with bears and lions; in which the cries of
the wounded and dying, and the abundant effusion of human blood, supplied
a grateful spectacle for a whole people, who feasted their cruel eyes with
the savage pleasure of seeing men murder one another in cool blood; and in
the times of the persecutions, with the tearing in pieces of old men and
infants, of women and tender virgins, whose age and weakness are apt to
excite compassion in the hardest hearts.
In Greece these combats were absolutely unknown, and were only introduced
into some cities, after their subjection to the Roman people. The
Athenians, however, whose distinguishing characteristics were benevolence
and humanity, never admitted them into their city;(164) and when it was
proposed to introduce the combats of the gladiators, that they might not
be outdone by the Corinthians in that point, “First throw down,” cried out
an Athenian(165) from the midst of the assembly, “throw down the altar,
erected above a thousand years ago by our ancestors to Mercy.”
It must be allowed that in this respect the conduct and wisdom of the
Greeks were infinitely superior to that of the Romans. I speak of the
wisdom of Pagans. Convinced that the multitude, too much governed by the
objects of sense to be sufficiently amused and entertained with the
pleasures of the understanding, could be delighted only with sensible
objects, both nations were studious to divert them with games and shows,
and such external contrivances, as were proper to affect the senses; in
the institution of which, each evinced and followed its peculiar
inclination and disposition.
The Romans, educated in war, and accustomed to battles, always retained,
notwithstanding the politeness upon which they piqued themselves,
something of their ancient ferocity; and hence it was, that the effusion
of blood, and the murders exhibited in their public shows, far from
inspiring them with horror, formed a grateful entertainment to them.
The insolent pomp of triumphs flowed from the same source, and argued no
less inhumanity. To obtain this honour, it was necessary to prove, that
eight or ten thousand men had been killed in battle. The spoils, which
were carried with so much ostentation, proclaimed, that an infinity of
worthy families had been reduced to the utmost misery. The innumerable
troop of captives had been free persons a few days before, and were often
distinguishable for honour, merit, and virtue. The representation of the
towns that had been taken in the war, explained that they had sacked,
plundered, and burnt the most opulent cities; and had either destroyed or
enslaved their inhabitants. In short, nothing was more inhuman, than to
drag kings and princes in chains before the chariot of a Roman citizen,
and to insult their misfortunes and humiliation in that public manner.
The triumphal arches, erected under 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.(166) They
erected trophies indeed, but of wood, a substance of no long duration,
which time would soon consume; and these it was prohibited to renew.
Plutarch’s reason for this is admirable.(167) After time had destroyed and
obliterated the marks of dissension and enmity that had divided nations,
it would have been the excess of odious and barbarous animosity, to have
thought of reestablishing them, to perpetuate 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 to those of
wood, reflect no honour upon those who introduced the custom.
I am pleased with the grief depicted on Agesilaus’s countenance,(168)
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 have conquered all the
Barbarians!”
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
Greece, from the solemnization of these games. The republics, separated by
distance of country, and diversity of interests, having the opportunity of
meeting from time to time, in the same place, and in the midst of
rejoicing and festivity, allied themselves more strictly with one another,
stimulated each other against the Barbarians and the common enemies of
their liberty, and made up their 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 nation; and to
preserve amongst 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 the Theatre.
I have reserved for the conclusion of this head another kind of
competition, which does not at all depend upon the strength, activity, and
address of 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 submitted their productions to the censure and judgment of
the public. The emulation in this sort of dispute was so much the more
lively and ardent, as the victory in question might justly be deemed to be
infinitely superior to all others, because it affects the man more nearly,
is founded on his personal and internal qualities, and decides upon the
merit of his intellectual capacity; which are advantages we are apt to
aspire after with the utmost vivacity and passion, and of which we are
least of all inclined to renounce the glory to others.
It was a great honour, and at the same time a most sensible pleasure, for
writers, 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
as that of the Olympic games; in which were present all the finest
geniuses of Greece, and all who were most capable of judging of the
excellency of a work. This theatre was equally open to history, eloquence,
and poetry.
Herodotus read his history(169) at the Olympic games to all Greece,
assembled at 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 the
people cried out wherever he passed, “That is he, who has written our
history, and celebrated our glorious successes against the Barbarians so
excellently.”
All who had been present at the games, caused afterwards every part of
Greece to resound with the name and glory of this illustrious historian.
Lucian, who writes the fact which 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 the
shortest and most certain method of acquiring a great reputation in a
little time.
Plutarch observes,(170) 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 power of Dionysius the
Tyrant, as upon the greatest action they had ever done.
We may judge of the eagerness of the poets to signalize themselves in
these solemn games, from that of Dionysius himself.(171) That prince, who
had the foolish vanity to believe himself the most excellent poet of his
time, appointed readers, called in Greek, ῥαψωδοὶ (_Rhapsodists_,) 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 occasioned a profound silence, and they were heard at first with
the greatest attention, 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, in which he
caused a tragedy of his composition to be represented.(172)
The disputes of the poets in the Olympic games were nothing, in comparison
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 of
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 large 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. I shall make considerable use of that piece,
and often without citing it; which is not uncommon with me.
Extraordinary Fondness of the Athenians for the Entertainments of the
Stage. Emulation of the Poets in disputing the Prizes in those
Representations. A short Idea of Dramatic Poetry.
No people ever expressed so much ardour and eagerness for the
entertainments of the theatre as the Greeks, and especially the Athenians.
The reason is obvious: as no people ever demonstrated such extent of
genius, nor carried so far the love of eloquence and poesy, taste for the
sciences, justness of sentiments, elegance of ear, and delicacy in all the
refinements of language. A poor woman, who sold herbs at Athens,
discovered Theophrastus to be a stranger, by a single word which he
affectedly made use of in expressing himself.(173) The common people got
the tragedies of Euripides by heart. The genius of every nation expresses
itself in the people’s manner of passing their time, and in their
pleasures. The great employment and delight of the Athenians were to amuse
themselves with works of wit, and to judge of the dramatic pieces, that
were acted by public authority several times a year, especially at the
feasts of Bacchus, when the tragic and comic poets disputed for the prize.
The former used to present four of their pieces at a time; except
Sophocles, who did not think fit to continue so laborious an exercise, and
confined himself to one performance, when he disputed the prize.
The state appointed judges, to determine upon the merit of the tragic or
comic pieces, before they were represented in the festivals. They were
acted before them in the presence of the people; but undoubtedly with no
great preparation. 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, caprice, ignorance, and prejudice?
Ælian(174) is very angry with the judges, who, in one of these disputes,
gave only the second place to Euripides. He accuses them of judging either
without capacity, or of suffering themselves to be bribed. It is easy to
conceive the warmth and emulation, which these disputes and public rewards
excited amongst the poets, and how much they contributed to the
perfection, to which Greece carried dramatic performances.
The dramatic poem introduces the persons themselves, speaking and acting
upon the stage: in the epic, on the contrary, the poet only relates the
different adventures of his characters. It is natural to be delighted with
fine descriptions of events, in which illustrious persons and whole
nations are interested; and hence the epic poem had its origin. But we are
quite differently affected with hearing those persons themselves, with
being the confidents of their most secret sentiments, and auditors and
spectators of their resolutions, 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 with what 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 satiric poem, which derives its name from the
satyrs, rural gods, who were always the chief characters in it; and not
from the “satire,” a kind of abusive poetry, which has no resemblance to
this, and is of a much later date. The satiric 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 their 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 down to us, which is the _Cyclops_ of Euripides.
I shall confine myself upon this head to tragedy and comedy; both which
had their origin amongst the Greeks, who looked upon them as fruits of
their own growth, of which they could never have enough. Athens was
remarkable for an extraordinary appetite of this kind. These two poems,
which were for a long time comprised under the general name of tragedy,
received there by degrees such improvements, as at length raised them to
their highest perfection.
The Origin and Progress of Tragedy. Poets who excelled in it at Athens;
Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides.
There had been many tragic and comic poets before Thespis; but as they had
made no alterations in the original rude form of this poem, and as Thespis
was the first that made any improvement in it, he was generally esteemed
its inventor. Before him, tragedy was no more than a jumble of buffoon
tales in the comic style, intermixed with 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, that tragedy owes its birth.
La tragédie, informe et grossière en na’ssant,
N’étoit qu’un simple chœur, où chacun en dansant,
Et du dieu des raisins entonnant les louanges,
S’éfforçoit d’attirer de fertiles vendanges.
Là, le vin et la joie éveillant les esprits,
Du plus habile chantre un bouc étoit le prix.
Formless and gross did tragedy arise,
A simple chorus, rather mad than wise;
For fruitful vintages the dancing throng
Roar’d to the god of grapes a drunken song:
Wild mirth and wine sustain’d the frantic note,
And the best singer had the prize, a goat.(175)
Thespis made several alterations in it, which Horace describes after
Aristotle, in his _Art of Poetry_. The first(176) 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 acting without disguise, as at first. He also
introduced a character among the chorus, who, to give the actors time to
rest themselves and to take breath, repeated the adventures of some
illustrious person; which recital, at length, gave place to the subjects
of tragedy.
Thespis fut le premier, qui barbouillé de lie,
Promena par les bourgs cette heureuse folie,
Et d’acteurs mal oinés chargeant un tombereau,
Amusa les passans d’un spectacle nouveau.(177)
First Thespis, smear’d with lees, and void of art,
The grateful folly vented from a cart;
And as his tawdry actors drove about,
The sight was new, and charm’d the gaping rout.
(M1) Thespis lived in the time of Solon.(178) That wise legislator, upon
seeing his 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.
(M2) It is not so easy to invent, as to improve the inventions of others.
The alterations Thespis made in tragedy, gave room for Æschylus to make
new and more considerable of his own. He was born at Athens, in the first
year of the sixtieth Olympiad. He took upon him the profession of arms, at
a time when the Athenians reckoned almost as many heroes as citizens. He
was at the battles of Marathon, Salamis, and Platæa, where he did his
duty. (M3) But his disposition called him elsewhere, and put him upon
entering into another course, where no less glory was to be acquired; and
where he was soon without any competitors. As a superior genius, he took
upon him to reform, or rather to create tragedy anew; of which he has, in
consequence, been always acknowledged the inventor and father. Father
Brumoi, in a dissertation which abounds with wit and good sense, explains
the manner in which Æschylus conceived the true idea of tragedy from
Homer’s epic poems. The poet himself used to say, that his works were the
remnants of the feasts given by Homer in the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_.
Tragedy therefore took a new form under him. He gave masks(179) to his
actors, adorned them with robes and trains, and made them wear buskins.
Instead of a cart, he erected a theatre of a moderate elevation, and
entirely changed their style; which from being merry and burlesque, as at
first, became majestic and serious.
Eschyle dans le chœur jetta les personages:
D’un masque plus honnête habilla les visages:
Sur les ais d’un théâtre en public exhaussé
Fit paroître l’acteur d’un brodequin chaussé.(180)
From Æschylus the chorus learnt new grace:
He veil’d with decent masks the actor’s face,
Taught him in buskins first to tread the stage,
And rais’d a theatre to please the age.
But that was only the external part or body of tragedy. Its soul, which
was the most important and essential addition of Æschylus, consisted in
the vivacity 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 passions, especially of terror and pity, which, by alternately
afflicting and agitating the soul with mournful or terrible objects,
produce a grateful pleasure and delight from that very trouble and
emotion; in the choice of a subject, great, noble, interesting, and
contained within due bounds by the unity of time, place, and action: in
short, it is the conduct and disposition of the whole piece, which, by the
order and harmony of its parts, and the happy connection of its incidents
and intrigues, holds the mind of the spectator in suspense till the
catastrophe, and then restores him his tranquillity, and dismisses him
with satisfaction.
The chorus had been established before Æschylus, 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
between the acts. Thus it supplied the interval of resting, and was a kind
of person of the drama, employed either(181) in giving useful advice and
salutary instructions, in espousing the party of innocence and virtue, in
being the depository of secrets, and the avenger of violated religion, or
in sustaining all those characters at the same time according to Horace.
The coryphæus, or principal person of the chorus, spoke for the rest.
In one of Æschylus’s pieces, called the _Eumenides_, the poet represents
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 women miscarried with the
surprise, and several children died of the fright. The chorus at that time
consisted of fifty actors. After this accident, it was reduced to fifteen
by an express law, and at length to twelve.
I have observed, that one of the alterations made by Æschylus in tragedy,
was the mask worn by his actors. These dramatic masks had no resemblance
to ours, which only cover the face, but were a kind of case for the whole
head, and which, besides the features, represented the beard, the hair,
the ears, and even the ornaments used by women in their head-dresses.
These masks varied according to the different pieces that were acted. The
subject is treated at large in a dissertation of M. Boindin’s, inserted in
the _Memoirs of the Academy of Belles Lettres_.(182)
I could never comprehend, as I have observed elsewhere,(183) in speaking
of pronunciation, how masks came to continue so long upon the stage of the
ancients; for certainly they could not be used, without considerably
deadening 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 as it is put in motion by
different passions, sometimes 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 affections are strongly imaged and
distinguished in the lineaments of the face. The mask deprives the
features of this energetic language, and of that life and soul, by which
it is the faithful interpreter of all the sentiments of the heart. I do
not wonder, therefore, at Cicero’s remark upon the action of Roscius.(184)
“Our ancestors,”’ says he, “were better judges than we are. They could not
wholly approve even Roscius himself, whilst he performed in a mask.”
(M4) Æschylus was in the sole possession of the glory of the stage, with
almost every voice in his favour, when a young rival made his appearance
to dispute the palm with him. This was Sophocles. He was born at Colonos,
a town in Attica, in the second year of the seventy-first Olympiad. His
father was a blacksmith, or one who kept people of that trade to work for
him. His first essay was a masterpiece. (M5) When, upon the occasion of
Cimon’s having found the bones of Theseus, and their being brought to
Athens, a dispute between the tragic poets was appointed, Sophocles
entered the lists with Æschylus, 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 withdrew 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 Suidas. As he lay asleep in the fields, with his head bare, an
eagle, taking his bald crown for a stone, let a tortoise fall upon it,
which killed him. Of ninety, or at least seventy, tragedies, composed by
him, only seven are now extant.
Nor have those of Sophocles escaped the injury of time better, though one
hundred and seventeen in number, and according to some one hundred 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 great a father, upon pretence that he had lost his senses,
summoned him before 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
_Œdipus 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 so
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 period to the end;
others, that he died of joy upon his being declared victor, contrary to
his expectation. 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. (M6) 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.
(M7) The latter was born in the first year of the seventy-fifth Olympiad,
at Salamis, whither his father Mnesarchus and mother Clito had retired
when Xerxes was preparing for his great expedition against Greece. He
applied himself at first to philosophy, and, amongst others, had the
celebrated Anaxagoras 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 great masters of whom we have
been speaking. His works(185) sufficiently denote his profound application
to philosophy. They abound with excellent maxims of morality; and it is in
that view that Socrates in his time, and Cicero long after him,(186) set
so high a value upon Euripides.
One cannot sufficiently admire the extreme delicacy expressed by the
Athenian audience on certain occasions, and their solicitude to preserve
the reverence due to morality, virtue, decency, and justice. It is
surprising to observe the warmth with which they unanimously reproved
whatever seemed inconsistent with them, and called the poet to an account
for it, notwithstanding his having a well-founded excuse, as he had given
such sentiments only to persons notoriously vicious, and actuated by the
most unjust passions.
Euripides had put into the mouth of Bellerophon a pompous panegyric upon
riches, which concluded with this thought: “Riches are the supreme good of
the human race, and 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. Phædra’s nurse represented to him, that
he had engaged himself under an inviolable oath to keep her secret. “My
tongue, it is true, pronounced that oath,” replied he, “but my heart gave
no consent to it.” This frivolous distinction appeared to the whole
people, as an express contempt of the religion and sanctity of an oath,
that tended to banish all sincerity and good faith from society and the
intercourse of life.
Another maxim(187) advanced by Eteocles in the tragedy called the
_Phœnicians_, and which Cæsar had always in his mouth, is no less
pernicious: “If justice may be violated at all, it is when a throne is in
question; in other respects, let it be duly revered.” It is highly
criminal in Eteocles, or rather in Euripides, says Cicero, 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
Cæsar, who was a tyrant by nature, and equally unjust, should lay great
stress upon the sentiments of a prince whom he so much resembled. But what
is remarkable in Cicero, is his falling upon the poet himself, and
imputing to him as a crime the having advanced so pernicious a principle
upon the stage.
Lycurgus, the orator,(188) who lived in the time of Philip and Alexander
the Great, to reanimate the spirit of the tragic poets, caused three
statues of brass to be erected, in the name of the people, to Æschylus,
Sophocles, and Euripides; and having ordered their works to be
transcribed, he appointed them to be carefully preserved amongst the
public archives, from whence they were taken 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 point out the peculiar excellencies of their
style and character. For that I must refer to father Brumoi, who will do
it much better than it is in my power. After having laid down, as an
undoubted principle, that the epic poem, that is to say Homer, pointed out
the way for the tragic poets; and having demonstrated, by reflections
drawn from human nature, upon what principles 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 brilliant colours.
Tragedy took at first from Æschylus its inventor, a much more lofty style
than the _Iliad_; that is, the _magnum loqui_ mentioned by Horace. Perhaps
Æschylus, who had a full conception of the grandeur of the language of
tragedy, carried it too high. It is not Homer’s trumpet, but something
more. His pompous, swelling, gigantic diction, resembles rather the
beating of drums and the shouts of battle, than the noble harmony of the
trumpets. The elevation and grandeur of his genius would not permit him to
speak the language of other men, so that his Muse seemed rather to walk in
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 honeyed 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 nervous and the lofty.
As Corneille, says father Brumoi in another place, after having opened to
himself a path entirely new and unknown to the ancients, seems like an
eagle towering 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 own, imitates the swan, that sometimes
floats upon the air, sometimes rises, then falls again with an elegance of
motion, and a grace peculiar to herself; so Æschylus, Sophocles, and
Euripides, have each of them a particular characteristic and method. The
first, as the inventor and father of tragedy, is like a torrent rolling
impetuously over rocks, forests, and precipices; the second resembles a
canal,(189) which flows gently through delicious gardens; and the third a
river, that does not follow its course in a continued line, but loves to
turn and wind his silver wave through flowery meads and rural scenes.
This is the character which father Brumoi gives of the three poets, to
whom the Athenian stage was indebted for its perfection in tragedy.
Æschylus(190) 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 and method. Sophocles and Euripides added infinitely to the dignity
of tragedy. The style of the first, as has been observed, is more noble
and majestic; of the latter, more tender and pathetic; each perfect in
their way. In this diversity of character, it is difficult to decide which
is most excellent. The learned have always been divided upon this head; as
we are at this day, with respect to the two poets of our own nation,(191)
whose tragedies have made our stage illustrious, and not inferior to that
of Athens.
I have observed, that the tender and pathetic distinguishes the
compositions of Euripides, of which Alexander of Pheræ, the most cruel of
tyrants, was a 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 tears for the distress of Hecuba and Andromache, who had
never shown the least compassion for his own citizens, of whom he had
butchered such numbers.
When I speak of the tender and pathetic, I would not be understood to mean
a passion that softens the heart into effeminacy, and which, to our
reproach, is almost alone, or at least more than any other passion
received upon our stage, though rejected by the ancients, and condemned by
the nations around us of greatest reputation for their genius, and taste
for the sciences and polite learning. The two great principles for moving
the passions amongst the ancients, were terror and pity.(192) And, indeed,
as we naturally refer every thing to ourselves, or our own particular
interest, when we see persons of exalted rank or virtue sinking under
great evils, the fear of the like misfortunes, with which we know that
human life is on all sides invested, seizes upon us, and from a secret
impulse of self-love we find ourselves sensibly affected with the
distresses of others: besides which, the sharing a common nature(193) with
the rest of our species, makes us sensible to whatever befalls them. Upon
a close and attentive inquiry into those two passions, they will be found
the most deeply inherent, active, extensive, and general affections of the
soul; including all orders of men, great and small, rich and poor, of
whatever age or condition. Hence the ancients, accustomed to consult
nature, and to take her for their guide in all things, with reason
conceived terror and compassion to be the soul of tragedy; and that those
affections ought to prevail in it. The passion of love was in no
estimation amongst them, and had seldom any share in their dramatic
pieces; though with us it is a received opinion, that they cannot be
supported without 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
characters, got such footing upon our stage. Corneille, who was the first
who brought the French tragedy to any perfection, and whom all the rest
have followed, found the whole nation enamoured with the perusal of
romances, 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 manner they had been accustomed
to be affected; and, 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, by the
assemblage of so many different objects, the sterility of the genius of a
poet, more intent upon the marvellous, 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, whilst it approaches nearer to prose,
retains sufficiently 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 representations, where other persons are supposed to
speak and act. Monsieur Dacier makes a very just reflection on this
subject. He says, that it is the misfortune of our tragedy to have almost
no other verse than what it has in common with epic poetry, elegy,
pastoral, satire, and comedy; whereas the learned languages have a great
variety of versification.
This inconvenience is highly obvious in our tragedy; which consequently is
obliged to lose 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. The giving utterance to the most impetuous passions in an
uniform cadence, and by hemistichs and rhymes, would undoubtedly be
tedious and offensive to the ear, if the charms of poetry, the elegance of
expression, and the spirit of the sentiments, and perhaps, more than all
of them, the resistless force of custom, had not in a manner subjected our
reason, and spread a veil before our judgment.
It was not chance, therefore, which suggested to the Greeks the use of
iambics 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 different versification for the chorus, better adapted to the motions
of the dance, and the variations of the song; because it was necessary for
poetry here to shine out in all its lustre, whilst 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 Old, Middle, and New Comedy.
Whilst tragedy was thus rising to 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 both. 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. And we are
as curious to know the adventures, conduct, and defects of our equals;
which supply us with occasions of laughing, and being merry at the expense
of others. Hence comedy derives itself; which is properly an image of
private life. Its design is to expose defects and vices upon the stage,
and, by affixing ridicule to them, to make them contemptible; 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 at Athens, as well from the genius of the poets, as from the
influence of the government, which occasioned various alterations in it.
The old comedy, so called by Horace,(194) and which he dates after the
time of Æschylus, retained something of its original rudeness, and the
liberty it had been used to take of throwing out coarse jests and reviling
the spectators from the cart of Thespis. Though it was become regular in
its plan, and worthy of a great theatre, it had not learnt to be more
reserved. It represented real transactions, with the names, dress,
gestures, and likeness, in masks, of whomsoever it thought fit to
sacrifice to the public derision. In a state where it was held good policy
to unmask whatever carried the air of ambition, singularity, or knavery,
comedy assumed the privilege to harangue, reform, and advise the people
upon their most important interests. No one was spared in a city of so
much liberty, or rather licentiousness, as Athens was at that time.
Generals, magistrates, government, the very gods were abandoned 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,(195) not only the priest of 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
amongst mankind, and offers to serve as a porter, sutler, bailiff, guide,
door-keeper; in short, in any capacity, rather than return to heaven. In
another,(196) the same gods, reduced 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 nutritious than that of incense, begs leave to
make his abode, and to turn the spit, and assist the cook upon occasion.
The other pieces of Aristophanes abound with strokes still more satirical
and severe upon the principal divinities.
I am not much surprised at the poet’s insulting the gods, and treating
them with the utmost contempt, as from them he had nothing fear; but I
cannot help wondering at his having brought the most illustrious and
powerful persons of Athens upon the stage, and presuming to attack the
government 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 light, who was the son of a tanner, and a tanner himself, and whose
rise was owing solely to his temerity and impudence, was so bold as to
make him the subject of a comedy,(197) 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 one of
the comedians daring to represent it, nor to expose himself to the
resentment of so formidable an enemy. 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 _Acharnians_, 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 he covertly
designates, convert to their own use the rewards due only to valour and
real services. He reproaches the republic with their preference of the
younger citizens to the elder, in the government of the state, and the
command of their armies. He tells them plainly, that when peace shall be
concluded, neither Cleonymus, Hyperbolus, nor many other such knaves, all
mentioned by name, shall have any share in the public affairs; they being
always ready to accuse their fellow-citizens of crimes, and to enrich
themselves by such informations.
In his comedy called the _Wasps_, imitated by Racine in his _Plaideurs_,
he exposes the mad passion of the people for prosecutions and trials at
law, and the enormous injustice frequently committed in passing sentence
and giving judgment.
The poet,(198) concerned to see the republic obstinately bent upon the
unhappy expedition to Sicily, endeavours to excite in the people a
thorough disgust for so ruinous a war, and to inspire them with the desire
of a peace, as much the interest of the victors as the vanquished, after a
war of several years’ duration, equally pernicious to each party, and
capable of involving all Greece in ruin.
None of Aristophanes’s pieces explains better his boldness, in speaking
upon the most delicate affairs of the state in the crowded theatre, than
his comedy called _Lysistrata_. One of the principal magistrates of Athens
had a wife of that name, who is supposed to have taken it into her head to
compel Greece to conclude a peace. She relates, how, during the war, the
women inquiring of their husbands the result of their counsels, and
whether they had not resolved to make peace with Sparta, received no
answers but imperious looks, and orders to mind their own business: that,
however, they perceived plainly to what a low condition the government was
declined: that they took the liberty to remonstrate mildly to their
husbands upon the sad consequences of their rash determinations, but that
their humble representations had no other effect than to offend and enrage
them: that, at length, being confirmed by the general opinion of all
Attica, that there were no longer any men in the state, nor heads for the
administration of affairs, their patience being quite exhausted, the women
had thought it proper and advisable to take the government upon
themselves, and preserve Greece, whether it would or no, from the folly
and madness of its resolves. “For her part, she declares, that she has
taken possession of the city and treasury, in order,” says she, “to
prevent Pisander and his confederates, the four hundred administrators,
from exciting troubles, according to their custom, and from robbing the
public as usual.” (Was ever any thing so bold?) She goes on to prove, that
the women only are capable of retrieving affairs by this burlesque
argument; that admitting things to be in such a state of perplexity and
confusion, the sex, accustomed to untangling their threads, were the only
persons to set them right again, as being best qualified with the
necessary address, patience, and moderation. The Athenian politics are
thus made inferior to those of the women, who are only represented in a
ridiculous light, to turn the derision upon their husbands, who were
engaged in the administration of the government.
These extracts from Aristophanes, taken almost word for word from father
Brumoi, seemed to me very proper to give an insight into that poet’s
character, and the genius of the ancient comedy, which was, as we see, a
satire of the most poignant and severe kind, that had assumed to itself an
independency from respect to persons, and to which nothing was sacred. It
is no wonder that Cicero condemns so licentious and uncurbed a liberty. It
might, he says,(199) have been tolerable, had it attacked only bad
citizens, and seditious orators, who endeavoured to raise commotions in
the state, such as Cleon, Cleophon, and Hyperbolus; but when a Pericles,
who for many years had governed the commonwealth both in war and peace
with equal wisdom and authority (he might have added, and a Socrates,
declared by Apollo the wisest of mankind) is brought upon the stage to be
laughed at by the public, it is as if our Plautus or Nævius had attacked
the Scipios, or Cæcilius had dared to revile Marcus Cato in his plays.
That liberty is still more offensive to us, who are born, and live under a
monarchical government, which is far from being favourable to
licentiousness. But without intending to justify the conduct of
Aristophanes, which is certainly inexcusable, I think, to judge properly
of it, it would be necessary to lay aside the prejudices of birth,
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 writers generally are
in our days. The king of Persia had a very different idea of him.(200) It
is a known story, that in an audience of the Greek ambassadors, his first
inquiry was after a certain comic poet (meaning Aristophanes) that put all
Greece in motion, and gave such effectual counsels against him.
Aristophanes did that upon the stage, which Demosthenes did afterwards in
the public assemblies. 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 of hearing the sentiments of others.
The public affairs were the business of every individual, on 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 their allies
or enemies. Hence rose the liberty taken by the comic poets, of discussing
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(201) particularly excelled in the old comedy; Eupolis,
Cratinus, and Aristophanes. The last is the only one of them, whose pieces
have come down to us entire; and, out of the great number which he
composed, eleven are all that remain. He flourished in an age when Greece
abounded with great men, and was contemporary with Socrates and Euripides,
whom he survived. During the Peloponnesian war, he made his greatest
figure; less as a writer to amuse the people with his comedies, than as a
censor of the government, retained 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 could
never attain, and for which Aristophanes(202) is more remarkable than any
other of the Greek authors. His particular excellence was raillery. None
ever touched what was ridiculous in the characters whom he wished to
expose with such success, or knew better how to convey it in all its full
force to others. But it would be necessary to have lived in his times, to
be qualified to judge of this. The subtle salt and spirit of the ancient
raillery, according to father 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; and it has in vain been attempted to offer, in excuse for
the first of these faults, the character 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 depraved taste of 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 introducing a
species of comedy, not altogether so modest as Plutarch seems to
insinuate, 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 to what a pitch the libertinism of the
spectators, and the depravity of the poet, had proceeded. Had he even
impregnated them with 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.(203) 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.(204) F. 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 Christian.
The old comedy subsisted till Lysander’s time; who, upon having made
himself master of Athens, changed the form or 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 which the poets possessed of
criticizing with impunity the persons at the head of the state. The whole
authority of Athens was then invested in 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 to
censure the sentiments and conduct of their masters. The calling persons
by their names upon the stage was prohibited: but poetical ill-nature soon
found the secret of eluding the intention of the law, and of making itself
amends for the restraint which was imposed upon it by the necessity of
using feigned names. It then applied itself to discover what was
ridiculous in known characters, which it copied to the life, and from
thence acquired the double advantage 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 represented. Such was the
comedy, since called the _Middle Comedy_, of which there are some
instances in Aristophanes.
It continued till the time of Alexander the Great, who, having entirely
assured himself of the empire of Greece by the defeat of the Thebans,
caused a check to be put upon the licentiousness of the poets, which
increased daily. From thence the _New Comedy_ took its birth, which was
only an imitation of private life, and brought nothing upon the stage but
feigned names, and fictitious adventures.
Chacun peint avec art dans ce nouveau miroir,
S’y vit avec plaisir, ou crut ne s’y pas voir.
L’avare des premiers rit du tableau fidèle
D’un avare souvent tracé sur son modèle;
Et mille fois un fat, finement exprimé,
Méconnut le portrait sur lui-mème formé.
In this new glass, whilst each himself survey’d,
He sat with pleasure, though himself was play’d:
The miser grinn’d whilst avarice was drawn,
Nor thought the faithful likeness was his own;
His own dear self no imag’d fool could find,
But saw a thousand other fops design’d.(205)
This may properly be called fine comedy, and is that of Menander. Of one
hundred and eighty, or rather eighty plays, according to Suidas, composed
by him, all of which Terence is said to have translated, there remain only
a few fragments. We may form a judgment of the merit of the originals from
the excellence of the copy. Quintilian, in speaking of Menander, is not
afraid to say,(206) that with the beauty of his works, and the height of
his reputation, he obscured, or rather obliterated, the fame of all other
writers in the same way. He observes in another passage,(207) that his own
times were not so just to his merit as they ought to have been, which has
been the fate of many others; but that he was sufficiently made amends by
the favourable opinion of posterity. And indeed Philemon, a comic poet,
who flourished about the same period, though older than Menander, was
preferred before him.
The Theatre of the Ancients described.
I have already observed, that Æschylus 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 in which
rose one above another; but those having one day broke down, by having too
great a weight upon them, the Athenians, excessively enamoured of dramatic
representations, were induced by that accident to erect those superb
structures, which were imitated afterwards with so much splendour by the
Roman magnificence. What I shall say of them, has almost as much relation
to the Roman as the Athenian theatres; and is extracted entirely from M.
Boindin’s learned dissertation upon the theatre of the ancients,(208) who
has treated the subject in its fullest extent.
The theatre of the ancients was divided into three principal parts; each
of which had its peculiar appellation. The division for the actors was
called in general the scene, or stage; that for the spectators was
particularly termed the theatre, which must have been of vast extent,(209)
as at Athens it was capable of containing above thirty thousand persons;
and the orchestra, which amongst the Greeks was the place assigned for the
pantomimes and dancers, though at Rome it was appropriated to the senators
and vestal virgins.
The theatre was of a semicircular form on one side, and square on the
other. The space contained within the semicircle was allotted to the
spectators, and 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 great 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 those porticoes the women saw
the representation, sheltered from the weather. The rest of the theatre
was uncovered, and all the business of the stage was performed in the open
air.
Each of these stories 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 two 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 in height, and twice as much in breadth; so that the
spectators had room to sit at their ease, and without being incommoded by
the legs of the people above them, no foot-boards being provided for them.
Each of these stories of benches were divided in two different manners; in
their height by the landing-places, called by the Romans _Præcinctiones_,
and in their circumferences by several staircases, peculiar to each story,
which intersecting them in right lines, tending towards the centre of the
theatre, gave the form of wedges to the quantity of seats between them,
from whence they were called _Cunei_.
Behind these stories of seats were covered galleries, through which the
people thronged into the theatre by great square openings, contrived for
that purpose in the walls next the seats. Those openings were called
_Vomitoria_, from the multitude of 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 theatre, 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
participated 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(210) that signifies to dance. It was
appropriated to the pantomimes and dancers, and to all such subaltern
actors as played between the acts, and at the end of the representations.
The second was named θυλέλη, from its being square, in the form of an
altar. Here the chorus was generally placed.
And in the third the Greeks disposed their band of music. They called it
ὑποσκήνιον, from its being situate at the bottom of the principal part of
the theatre, to which they gave the general name of 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
its name to this whole division. It occupied the whole front of the
building from 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 down to open the scene, and drawn up
between the acts, when any thing in the representation made it necessary.
The second, called by the Greeks indifferently προσκήνιον, and λοτεῖον and
by the Romans _proscenium_, and _pulpitum_, was a large open space in
front of the scene, in which the actors performed their parts, and which,
by the help of the decorations, represented either a public square or
forum, a common street, or the country; but the place so represented was
always in the open air.
The third division was a part reserved behind the scenes, and called by
the Greeks παρασκήνιον. Here the actors dressed themselves, and the
decorations were locked up. In the same place were also kept the machines,
of which the ancients had abundance in their theatres.
As only the porticoes and the building of the scene were roofed, it was
necessary to draw sails, fastened with cords to masts, over the rest of
the theatre, to screen the audience from the heat of the sun. But as this
contrivance 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 not only diffuse a
grateful coolness all around, but the most fragrant exhalations along with
it; for this dew was always perfumed. Whenever the representations were
interrupted by storms, the spectators retired into the porticoes behind
the seats of the theatre.
The fondness of the Athenians for representations of this kind cannot be
expressed. 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; in consequence of which they
often not only acquired the applauses of the spectators, but credit and
influence in the public affairs and counsels: hence the theatre became so
grateful and so interesting to the people. It was in this manner,
according to some authors, that Euripides artfully adapted his tragedy of
_Palamedes_(211) to the sentence passed against Socrates; and pointed out,
by an illustrious example of antiquity, the innocence of a philosopher,
oppressed by malignity supported by power and faction.
Accident was often the occasion of sudden and unforeseen applications,
which from their appositeness were very agreeable to the people. Upon this
verse of Æschylus, in praise of Amphiaraus,
—— ’Tis his desire
Not to appear, but be the great and good,
the whole audience rose up, and unanimously applied it to Aristides.(212)
The same thing happened to Philopœmen at the Nemæan games. At the instant
he entered the theatre, these verses were singing upon the stage:
—— He comes, to whom we owe
Our liberty, the noblest good below.
All the Greeks cast their eyes upon Philopœmen,(213) 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,(214) when
some verses of Accius,(215) which reproached the Greeks with their
ingratitude in suffering the banishment of Telamon, were repeated by Æsop,
the best actor of his time, they drew tears from the eyes of the whole
assembly.
Upon another, though very different, occasion, the Roman people applied to
Pompey the Great some verses to this effect:
’Tis our unhappiness has made thee great;(216)
and then addressing the people;
The time shall come when you shall late deplore
So great a power confided to such hands;
the spectators obliged the actor to repeat these verses several times.
Fondness for Theatrical Representations one of the principal Causes of the
Decline, Degeneracy, and Corruption of the Athenian 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
later ages, when the power of Philip and Alexander the Great had in a
manner reduced it to slavery, we shall be surprised at the strange
alteration in 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 the elegant preface to
his translation of Demosthenes’s orations.
There were no longer, he observes, 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 great king by tribute or homage. The
love of ease and pleasure had almost entirely 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 were celebrated, a
certain number of oboli should be distributed amongst 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 amongst servile employments the most noble functions of the sovereign
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 make it a capital crime to advise, upon any account
whatsoever, the application of it to other uses: but, notwithstanding, the
abuse always subsisted. At first it seemed tolerable, whilst the citizen,
who was supported at the public expense, endeavoured to deserve it 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 number 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 were perpetually taking place, conceived an invincible
repugnance for labour and fatigue, which they looked upon as unworthy of
free-born men.
It was therefore necessary to find amusement for this indolent people, to
fill up the great void of an unactive, useless life. Hence arose
principally their fondness, or rather frenzy, for public shows. The death
of Epaminondas, which seemed to promise them the greatest advantage, gave
the final stroke to their ruin and destruction. “Their courage,” says
Justin,(217) “did not survive that illustrious Theban. Freed from a rival,
who kept their emulation alive, they sunk into a lethargic sloth and
effeminacy. The funds for armaments by land and sea were soon lavished
upon games and feasts. The seaman’s and soldier’s pay was distributed to
the idle citizen. An indolent and luxurious mode of life enervated every
breast. 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; whilst good poets and excellent
comedians engrossed the universal applause.”
Extravagance of this kind makes it easy to comprehend in what multitudes
the people thronged to the dramatic performances. As no expense was spared
in embellishing them, exorbitant sums were sunk in the service of the
theatre. “If,” says Plutarch,(218) “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
_Phœnicians_, _Œdipus_, _Antigone_, _Medea_, and _Electra_, (tragedies
written either by Sophocles or Euripides,) were greater than those which
had been employed against the Barbarians, in defence of the liberty and
for the preservation of Greece.” This gave a Spartan just reason to
exclaim, on seeing an estimate of the enormous sums laid out in these
contests of the tragic poets, and the extraordinary pains taken by the
magistrates who presided in them,(219) “that a people must be 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 the 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? I find that the
prudence of Themistocles enclosed the city with strong walls; that the
fine taste and magnificence of Pericles improved and adorned it; that the
noble fortitude of Miltiades preserved its liberty; and that the moderate
conduct of Cimon acquired it the empire and government of all Greece. If
the wise and learned poetry of Euripides, the sublime diction of
Sophocles, the lofty buskin of Æschylus, have obtained equal advantages
for the city of Athens, by delivering it from impending calamities, or by
adding to its glory, I am willing (he goes on) that dramatic pieces should
be placed in competition with trophies of victory, the poetic theatre with
the field of battle, and the compositions of the poets with the great
exploits of the generals. But what a comparison 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 by the colonies which they founded, the cities which
they captured, and the nations which they subjected. It is not to
perpetuate the victories of Æschylus and Sophocles, but in remembrance of
the glorious battles of Marathon, Salamis, Eurymedon, and many others,
that so many feasts are celebrated every month with such pomp by the
Grecians.
The inference which Plutarch draws from hence, in which we ought to agree
with him, is,(220) that it was the highest imprudence in the Athenians
thus to prefer pleasure to duty, fondness for the theatre to the love of
their country, trivial shows to application to public business, and to
consume, in useless expenses and dramatic entertainments, the funds
intended for the support of fleets and armies. Macedon, till then obscure
and inconsiderable, well knew how to take advantage of the Athenian
indolence and effeminacy;(221) and Philip, instructed by the Greeks
themselves, amongst 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 sequel.
I am now to open an entirely new scene to the reader’s view, not unworthy
his curiosity and attention. We have seen two states of no great
consideration, Media and Persia, extend themselves far and wide, under the
conduct of Cyrus, like a torrent or a conflagration; and, with amazing
rapidity, conquer and subdue many provinces and kingdoms. We shall see now
that vast empire setting the nations under its dominion in motion, the
Persians, Medes, Phœnicians, Egyptians, Babylonians, Indians, and many
others; and falling, with all the forces of Asia and the East upon a
little 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 of 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 Lacedæmon, 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
formidable an enemy; and that no footsteps of them will be left remaining?
And yet we shall find that they will prove victorious; and by their
invincible courage, and the several battles they gain, both by sea and
land, will make the Persian empire lay aside all thoughts of ever again
turning their arms against Greece.
The history of the war between the Persians and the Greeks will illustrate
the truth of this maxim, that it is not the number, but the valour of the
troops, and the conduct of the generals, on which depends the success of
military expeditions. 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 an handful of men, to
make head against innumerable armies; who, notwithstanding such a
prodigious inequality of forces, dared to hope for success; who even
compelled victory to declare on the side of merit and virtue; and taught
all succeeding generations what infinite resources 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
amongst the Greeks 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, (excepting that of Syracuse,
one of the most important related in ancient history,) though several of
these sieges were of no short duration; some battles between armies, where
the numbers were small, and but little blood shed. What is it, then, that
has rendered these wars so famous 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 will have us conceive of them.
But because Athens abounded in noble writers, the acts of that republic
are celebrated throughout the whole world as most glorious; and the
gallantry of those heroes who performed them, has had the good fortune to
be thought as transcendent as the eloquence of those who have described
them.”(222)
Sallust, though jealous enough of the glory the Romans had acquired by a
series of distinguished actions, with which their history abounds, yet
does justice in this passage to the Grecians, by acknowledging, that their
exploits were truly great and illustrious, though somewhat inferior, in
his opinion, to their fame. What is then this foreign and borrowed lustre,
which the Athenian actions have derived from the eloquence of their
historians? It is, that the whole universe agrees in looking upon them as
the greatest and most glorious that ever were performed: _Per terrarum
orbem Atheniensium facta_ PRO MAXIMIS CELEBRANTUR. All nations, seduced
and enchanted as it were with the beauties of the Greek authors, think
that people’s exploits superior to any thing that was ever done by any
other nation. This, according to Sallust, is the service which the Greek
authors have done the Athenians, by their excellent manner of describing
their actions; and very unhappy it is for us, that our history, for want
of similar assistance, has left a thousand brilliant actions and fine
sayings unrecorded, which would have been put in the strongest light by
the writers of antiquity, and have done great honour to our country.
But, be this as it may, it must be confessed, that we are not always to
judge of the value of an action, or the merit of the persons who shared in
it, by the importance of the event. It is rather in such sieges and
engagements 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 carried on by the prudence of the
general. He is truly the soul of the forces, which neither act nor move
but by his direction. He sees every thing, and is present every where.
Nothing escapes his vigilance and attention. Orders are seasonably given,
and seasonably executed. Contrivances, 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, who were also excellent commanders, enter into all the
particulars of the events which they relate, and lead the readers, as it
were by the hand, through all the sieges and battles they describe;
showing 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 the Grecian history
affords us such excellent models. We shall there find celebrated
legislators, able politicians, magistrates born for government, men that
have excelled in all arts and sciences, philosophers that carried their
inquiries as far as was 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
models 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 an historian is obliged to pay to truth will not allow him to
dissemble the latter, through fear of eclipsing the lustre of the former.
Nor does what I here advance contradict the rule laid down by Plutarch, on
the same subject, in his preface to the life of _Cimon_.(223) He requires,
that the illustrious actions of great men be represented in their full
light; but as to the faults, which may sometimes escape them through
passion or surprise, or into which they may be drawn by the necessity of
affairs, considering them rather as a certain degree of perfection wanting
to their virtue,(224) than as vices or crimes that proceed from any
corruption of the heart; such imperfections as these, he would have the
historian, out of compassion to the weakness of human nature, which
produces nothing entirely perfect, content himself with touching very
lightly; in the same manner as an able painter, when he has a fine face to
draw, 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 destroy the likeness. The very comparison Plutarch
uses, shows, that he speaks 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 pretence; nor can we suppose, that the same
privilege should be allowed in history as is 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.(225)
History, the most essential rule of which is sincerity, 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 public, 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 himself, 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 that eternal infamy that
attends it.(226)
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 other bounds than
those of their will, often abandon themselves to all their passions; that
nothing is more difficult than to resist the illusions of a man’s own
greatness, and the flatteries 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 dispositions 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
miserable effects of their intestine divisions, and the fatal excesses
into which they were led by their thirst of dominion: scenes of injustice,
ingratitude, and perfidy, together with the open violation of treaties, or
mean artifices and unworthy tricks to elude their execution. It will show,
how scandalously the Lacedæmonians 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 stooping and making their court to haughty and insolent
satrapæ, and by going successively, with a kind of emulation, to implore
the protection of the common 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 mean 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 different things are related: and whether it be possible,
that such a bright and shining 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 (these two last reigned but a very little
time); and Darius the second, commonly called Darius Nothus. This history
begins at the year of the world 3483, and extends to the year 3600. As
this whole period naturally divides itself into two parts, I shall also
divide it into two distinct 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 enterprises and expeditions of the Persians against Greece,
which never produced more great men and great events, nor ever displayed
more conspicuous or more solid virtues. Here will be seen the famous
battles of Marathon, Thermopylæ, Artemisium, Salamis, Platææ, Mycale,
Eurymedon, &c. Here the most eminent commanders of Greece signalized their
courage; Miltiades, Leonidas, Themistocles, Aristides, Cimon, Pausanias,
Pericles, Thucydides, &c.
To enable the reader the more easily to recollect what passed within this
space of time among the Jews, and also among the Romans, the history of
both which nations is entirely foreign to that of the Persians and Greeks,
I shall here set down in few words the principal epochas relating to them.
Epochas of the Jewish History.
The people of God were at this time returned from their Babylonish
captivity 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 earnest 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 was no less
favourable to the Jews than Darius: he first of all sent Ezra to
Jerusalem, 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 neighbours, who were jealous of
its reviving greatness. It is thought that Malachi, 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.
Epochas of the Roman History.
The first year of Darius I. was the 233d of the building of Rome. Tarquin
the Proud was then on the throne, and about ten years afterwards was
expelled, when the consular government was substituted to 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 Veientes, 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 time terminates in the 323d year from the foundation of
Rome.
The second part, which consists of twenty-seven years, extends from the
43d year of Artaxerxes Longimanus, 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
before triumphed over the barbarians, turned their arms against each
other. Among the Athenians, Pericles, Nicias, and Alcibiades; among the
Lacedæmonians, Brasidas, Gylippus, and Lysander, distinguished themselves
in the most extraordinary manner.
Rome continues to be agitated by different disputes between the senate and
the 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.
(M8) I have already observed, that eighty years after the taking of Troy,
the Heraclidæ, that is, the descendants of Hercules, returned into the
Peloponnesus, and made themselves masters of Lacedæmon, where two
brothers, Eurysthenes and Procles, sons of Aristodemus, reigned jointly
together.
Herodotus observes,(227) that these two brothers were, during their whole
lives, at variance; and that almost all their descendants inherited the
like disposition of mutual hatred and antipathy; so true it is, that the
sovereign power will admit of no partnership, and that two kings will
always be too many for one kingdom! However, after the death of these two,
the descendants 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 Heraclidæ into the Peloponnesus, to
the death of Cleomenes, and supplied Sparta with kings without
interruption, and that generally in a regular succession from father to
son, especially in the elder branch of the family.
The Origin and Condition of the Elotæ, or Helots.
When the Lacedæmonians first began to settle in Peloponnesus, they met
with great opposition from the inhabitants of the country, whom they were
obliged to subdue one after another by force of arms, or receive into
their alliance on easy and equitable terms, with the imposition of a small
tribute. Strabo(228) 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. Agis, the son of Eurysthenes,
newly settled in the throne, was sensible of the dangerous tendency of
this first revolt, and therefore immediately marched with an army against
them, together with Soüs, his colleague. They laid siege to the city,
which, after a pretty long resistance, was forced to surrender at
discretion. This prince thought it proper to make such an example of them
as should intimidate all their neighbours, and deter them from the like
attempts, and yet not alienate their minds by too cruel a 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, and
reduced them all to a state of slavery. From thenceforward they were
employed in all mean and servile offices, and treated with extreme rigour.
These were the people who were called Elotæ, or Helots. The number of them
exceedingly increased in process of time, the Lacedæmonians giving
undoubtedly the same name to all the people whom they reduced to the same
condition of servitude. As they themselves were averse to labour, and
entirely addicted to war, they left the cultivation of their lands to
these slaves, assigning 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 endeavoured, by all sorts of ill usage, to make their yoke
more grievous and insupportable. This was certainly very bad policy, and
could only tend to breed a vast number of dangerous enemies in the very
heart of the state, who were always ready to take arms and revolt on every
occasion. The Romans acted more prudently; for they incorporated the
conquered nations into their state, by associating them into the freedom
of their city, and thereby converted them from enemies, into brethren and
fellow-citizens.
Lycurgus, the Lacedæmonian Lawgiver
Eurytion, or Eurypon, as he is named by others, succeeded Soüs.(229) In
order to gain the affection of his people, and render his government
agreeable, he thought fit to recede in some points from the absolute power
exercised by the kings his predecessors: this rendered his name so dear to
his subjects, that all his descendants were, from him, called Eurytionidæ.
But this relaxation gave birth to horrible confusion, and an unbounded
licentiousness in Sparta; and for a long time occasioned infinite
mischiefs. The people became so insolent, that nothing could restrain
them. If Eurytion’s successors 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 in a manner was 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 kingdom belonged to
her child, in case it proved a son: and from that moment he took 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
Lacedæmonians to the guardians of their kings. When the child was born,
Lycurgus took him in his arms, and cried out to the company that was
present, _Behold, my lords of Sparta, your new-born king!_ and, at the
same time, he put the infant into 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 second 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 Lacedæmonians.
Some time after this, in the reign of Theopompus, a war broke out between
the Argives and Lacedæmonians, on account of a little country, called
Thyrea, that lay upon the confines of the two states, and to which each of
them pretended a right.(230) 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 chosen
from their respective armies; 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 courage 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 side of the Argives, and one on
that of the Lacedæmonians, lay dead upon the 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
Lacedæmonian, Othryades by name, instead of retiring, stripped the dead
bodies of the Argives, and carrying their arms into the Lacedæmonian 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,
because they had more of their champions left alive than the enemy had;
the Lacedæmonians, because the two Argives that remained alive had fled;
whereas their single soldier had remained master of the field of battle,
and had carried off the spoils of the enemy: in short, they could not
determine the dispute without coming to another engagement. Here fortune
declared in favour of the Lacedæmonians, and the little territory of
Thyrea was the prize of their victory. But Othryades, not able to bear the
thoughts of surviving 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 to have one fate and tomb with them.
Wars between the Messenians and Lacedæmonians.
There were no less than three several wars between the Messenians and the
Lacedæmonians, all of them very fierce and bloody. Messenia was a country
in Peloponnesus, towards the west, and not far from Sparta: it was of
considerable strength, and was governed by its own kings.
The First Messenian War.
(M9) The first Messenian war lasted twenty years, and broke out the second
year of the ninth Olympiad.(231) The Lacedæmonians pretended to have
received several considerable injuries from the Messenians, and among
others, that of having had their daughters ravished by the inhabitants of
Messenia, when they went, according to custom, to a temple, that stood on
the borders of 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 may, the war broke out in the reign of Polydorus and Theopompus, kings
of Sparta, at the time when the office of archon at Athens was still
decennial.
Euphaes, the thirteenth descendant from Hercules, was then king of
Messenia.(232) He gave the command of his army to Cleonnis. The
Lacedæmonians opened the campaign with the siege of Amphea, a small,
inconsiderable city, which, however, they thought would suit them very
well as a place for military stores. 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 Lacedæmonians, on their
part, bound themselves by an oath not to lay down their arms, nor to
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
sides.(233) But after the second, the Messenians suffered extremely
through the want of provisions, which occasioned a great desertion in
their troops, and at last brought a pestilence among them.
Hereupon they consulted the oracle of Delphi, 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 Ithome, a little place seated 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 Lacedæmonians 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
any thing but the obligation of the oath, by which they had bound
themselves, that made them continue so burthensome a war. What gave them
the greatest uneasiness was, their apprehension, lest their absence from
their wives for so many years, an absence which might still continue many
more, should destroy their families at home, and leave Sparta destitute of
citizens.(234) To prevent this misfortune, they sent home such of their
soldiers as were come to the army since the forementioned oath had been
taken, and made no scruple of prostituting their wives to their embraces.
The children that sprung from this unlawful intercourse were called
Partheniæ, a name given them to denote the infamy of their birth. As soon
as they were grown up, not being able to endure such an opprobrious
distinction, they banished themselves from Sparta with one consent, and,
under the conduct of Phalantus, went and settled at Tarentum in Italy,
after driving out the ancient inhabitants.(235)
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 Ithome.(236)
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 give up the ghost.
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, who were dragging 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 Lacedæmonians, 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 he 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 therefore 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
Messenians, 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. It was a custom among them, which
had long been established, publicly to proclaim, after a battle, the name
of the man that had showed the greatest courage. Nothing could be more
proper to animate the officers and soldiers, to inspire them with
resolution and intrepidity, and to stifle the natural apprehension of
death and danger. Two illustrious champions entered the lists on this
occasion, namely, Cleonnis and Aristomenes.
The king, notwithstanding his weak condition, attended by 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
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, which were
so many undoubted testimonies of the courage with which he had 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 him on his shoulders into the camp,
that action indeed might serve to prove the strength of his body, but
nothing farther; and the thing in dispute at this time, says he, is not
strength, but valour.
The only thing Aristomenes was reproached for, was his not being wounded;
therefore he confined himself to that point: “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 admitted to dispute the prize, ought to
undergo the rigour of the laws that punish cowards. 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 whilst they
engaged me, I had at the same time strength to cut them in pieces, and
skill to guard against their attacks, I must then have been at once both
valiant and prudent. For whoever, in the midst of an engagement, can
expose himself to dangers 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 is in suspense, and impatiently waits for the decision. No
dispute could 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
witnesses. 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 died not many days after the decision of this affair.(237) He had
reigned thirteen years, and during all that time had been engaged in war
with the Lacedæmonians. As he died without children, he left the
Messenians at liberty to choose his successor. Cleonnis and Damis were
candidates 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; all strongly
attached to the public good, even more than to their own glory;
competitors, but not enemies, these great men were actuated by a zeal for
their country, and were neither 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,(238) and have made use of his learned dissertation upon a
fragment of Diodorus Siculus, which the world was little acquainted with.
He supposes, and proves in it, that the king, spoken of in that fragment,
is Euphaes; and that Aristomenes is the same that Pausanias calls
Aristodemus, according to the custom of the ancients, who were often
called by two different names.
Aristomenes, otherwise called Aristodemus, reigned near seven years, and
was equally esteemed and beloved by his subjects. The war still continued
all this time.(239) Towards the end of his reign he beat the
Lacedæmonians, took their king Theopompus, and, in honour of Jupiter of
Ithome, sacrificed three hundred of them, among whom their king was the
principal victim. Shortly after, Aristodemus sacrificed himself upon the
tomb of his daughter, in conformity to the answer of an oracle. Damis was
his successor, but without taking upon him the title of king.
After his death, the Messenians never had any success in their affairs,
but found themselves in a very wretched and hopeless condition.(240) Being
reduced to the last extremity, and utterly destitute of provisions, they
abandoned Ithome, and fled to such of their allies as were nearest to
them. The city was immediately razed, and the other part of the country
submitted. They were made to engage by oath never to forsake the party of
the Lacedæmonians, 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 women, should attend, in mourning, the
funerals of the kings and chief citizens of Sparta; which the
Lacedæmonians probably looked upon as a mark of dependence, and as a kind
of homage paid to their nation. (M10) Thus ended the first Messenian war,
after having lasted twenty years.
The Second Messenian War.
The lenity with which the Lacedæmonians treated the Messenians at first,
was of no long duration.(241) When once they found the whole country had
submitted, 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, and 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 with contempt like vile slaves, and committed 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(242) near forty
years, they resolved to throw off the yoke, and to recover their ancient
liberty. (M11) 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 by 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 apprehensions, 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 Lacedæmonians and
Messenians. Aristomenes, the second of that name,(243) was at the head of
the latter. He was a commander of intrepid courage, and of great abilities
in war. The Lacedæmonians were beaten in this engagement. Aristomenes, to
give the enemy at first an advantageous opinion of his bravery, knowing
what influence it has on the success of future enterprises, boldly
ventured to enter into Sparta by night, and upon the gate of the temple of
Minerva, 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 Lacedæmonians.
This bravado did in reality astonish the Lacedæmonians. But they were
still more alarmed at the formidable league that was formed against them.
The Delphic oracle, which they consulted, in order to know by what means
they should be successful in this war, directed them to send to Athens for
a commander, and to submit to his counsel and conduct. This was a very
mortifying step to so haughty a city as Sparta. But the fear of incurring
the god’s 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 the request. On the one hand,
they were not sorry to see the Lacedæmonians at war with their neighbours,
and were far from desiring 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 Lacedæmonians Tyrtæus.
He was a poet by profession, and had something original in the turn of his
mind, and disagreeable in his person; for he was lame. Notwithstanding
these defects, the Lacedæmonians received him as a general, sent them by
Heaven itself. Their success did not at first answer their expectation,
for they lost three battles successively.
The kings of Sparta, discouraged by so many disappointments, and out of
all hopes of better success for the future, were absolutely bent upon
returning to Sparta, and marching home again with their forces. Tyrtæus
opposed this design very warmly, and at length brought them over to his
opinion. He addressed the troops, and repeated to them some verses he had
made with that intention, 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, how
shameful it would be for Spartans to fly from an enemy; and how glorious
it would be for them rather to perish sword in hand, if it was so decreed
by fate, in fighting for their country. Then, as if all danger 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 were inviting
them to battle. All the ancient authors,(244) who have made any mention of
the style and character of Tyrtæus’s poetry, observe, that it was full of
a certain fire, ardour, and enthusiasm, that inflamed the minds of men,
that exalted 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.(245) Tyrtæus’s verses had really this
effect on the soldiers upon this occasion. They all desired, with one
voice, to march against the enemy. Being become indifferent as to their
lives, they had no thoughts but to secure themselves the honour of a
burial. To this end they all tied strings round their right arms, 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
known who each of them was by these marks. Soldiers determined to die are
very valiant. This appeared in the battle that ensued. It was very bloody,
the victory being a long time disputed on both sides; but at last the
Messenians gave way. When Tyrtæus went afterwards to Sparta, he was
received with the 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
already 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. The conquerors attempted to carry the place by assault, but
that brave prince defended himself there for the space of eleven years,
and performed the most extraordinary actions of valour. He was at last
obliged to quit it, only by surprise and treachery, after having defended
it like a lion. Such of the Messenians as fell into the hands of the
Lacedæmonians on this occasion were reduced to the condition of the
Helots. The rest, seeing their country 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 as is called at 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, to remain with Ardys, king of the Lydians, or to Ecbatana,
with Phraortes, king of the Medes; but death prevented the execution of
all his designs.
(M12) The second Messenian war was of fourteen years’ duration, and ended
the first year of the twenty-seventh Olympiad.
There was a third war between these people and the Lacedæmonians, which
began both at the time and on the occasion of a great earthquake that
happened 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.
The history will present to our view a series of all the crimes which
usually arise from inordinate ambition; scenes of jealousy and perfidy,
treason, ingratitude, and flagrant 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, companions in the same dangers, and
instruments in the accomplishment of the same exploits and victories, will
conspire to tear in pieces the empire they had all concurred to form at
the expense of their blood. We shall see the captains of Alexander
sacrifice the mother, the wives, the brother, the sisters, of that prince,
to their own ambition; without sparing even those to whom they themselves
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 examples;
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 attract attention only in consequence of the profound darkness
that precedes and follows them.
I acknowledge myself to be sufficiently sensible how much a writer is to
be pitied, for being obliged to represent human nature in such colours and
lineaments 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 inspiring the mind with horror for criminal actions, and
by a representation of the calamities which usually succeed them, and are
to be considered as their just punishment. It is difficult to engage the
attention of a reader, for any considerable time, on objects which only
raise his indignation, and it would be affronting him, to seem desirous of
dissuading him from the excess of inordinate passions, of which he
conceives himself incapable.
How is it possible to diffuse any interest through a narration, which has
nothing to offer but an uniform series of vices and great crimes; and
which makes it necessary to enter into a particular detail of the actions
and characters of men born for the calamity of the human race, and whose
very name should not be transmitted to posterity? It may even be thought
dangerous, to familiarize the minds of the generality of mankind to
uninterrupted scenes of too successful iniquity and to be particular in
describing the unjust success which waited on those illustrious criminals,
the long duration of whose prosperity being frequently attended with the
privileges and rewards of virtue, may be thought an imputation on
Providence by persons of weak understandings.
This history, which seems likely to prove very disagreeable, from the
reasons I have just mentioned, will become more so from the obscurity and
confusion 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 to
themselves some portion, greater or less, of that vast body. Sometimes
feigned friends, sometimes declared enemies, they are continually forming
different parties and leagues, which are to subsist no longer than is
consistent with the interest of each individual. Macedonia changed its
master five or six times in a very short space; by what means then can
order and perspicuity be preserved, in so prodigious a 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
historian will appear to take his place. No proper series of affairs will
remain; the several events are not to be disposed into any regular
connection with each other; nor will it be possible to point out, either
the motives to the resolutions 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 promise to
throw so much light upon this history as I could desire.
After a war of more than twenty years, the number of the principal
competitors 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 regular succession of monarchs, sufficiently clear and
distinct; but the fourth, which comprehended Thrace, with part of the
Lesser Asia, and some neighbouring provinces, will suffer a number of
variations.
As the kingdom of Egypt was that which was subject to the fewest changes,
because Ptolemy, who was established there as 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 epochas shall be fixed from him.
The fourth volume 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 reigned 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
abridgement.
Introductory to which, I must desire the reader to accompany me in some
reflections, which have not escaped Monsieur Bossuet, with relation to
Alexander. This prince, who was the most renowned and illustrious
conqueror in all history, was the last monarch of his race. Macedonia, his
ancient kingdom, which his ancestors had governed for so many ages, was
invaded from all quarters, as a vacant succession; and after it had long
been a prey to the strongest, it was at last transferred to another
family. If Alexander had continued peaceably in Macedonia, the grandeur of
his empire would not have excited the ambition of his captains; and he
might have transmitted the sceptre 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, without the least remaining traces of them in
history. His conquests occasioned a vast effusion of blood, and furnished
his captains with a pretext for murdering one another. These were the
effects that flowed from the boasted bravery of Alexander, or rather from
that brutality, which, under the specious names of ambition and glory,
spread desolation, and carried fire and sword through whole provinces,
without the least provocation, and shed the blood of multitudes who had
never 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
appearance of the Messiah, it was vigilant to unite all the nations that
were to be first enlightened with the Gospel, by the use of one and the
same language, which was that of Greece: and the same Providence made 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 apostles, and rendered it more uniform.
The partition of the empire of Alexander the Great, among the generals of
that prince, immediately after his death, did not subsist for any length
of time, and hardly took place, if we except Egypt, where Ptolemy had
first established himself, and on the throne of which he always maintained
himself without acknowledging any superior.
(M13) It was not till after the battle of Ipsus in Phrygia, wherein
Antigonus, and his son Demetrius, surnamed Poliorcetes, were defeated, and
the former lost his life, that this partition was fully regulated and
fixed. 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, Cœlesyria, and Palestine. Cassander, 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 the greater Asia
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 without
any interruption, in the same families, through a long succession of
princes. The kingdom of Macedonia had several masters of different
families successively. That of Thrace was at last divided into several
branches, and no longer constituted one entire body, by which means all
traces of regular 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. All
these princes had the common name of Ptolemy, but each of them was
likewise distinguished by a peculiar surname. They had also the
appellation of Lagides, from Lagus the father of that Ptolemy who reigned
the first in Egypt. The fourth and fifth volumes contain the histories of
six of these kings, 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.
(M14) Ptolemy Soter. He reigned thirty-eight years and some months.
(M15) Ptolemy Philadelphus. He reigned forty years including the two years
of his reign in the lifetime of his father.
(M16) Ptolemy Euergetes, twenty-five years.
(M17) Ptolemy Philopator, seventeen.
(M18) Ptolemy Epiphanes, twenty-four.
(M19) Ptolemy Philometor, thirty-four.
II. The Kingdom of Syria.
The kingdom of Syria had twenty-seven kings; which makes it evident, that
their reigns were often very short: and indeed several of these princes
waded to the throne through the blood of their predecessors.
They are usually called the Seleucidæ, from Seleucus, who reigned the
first in Syria. History reckons up six kings of this name, and thirteen
who are called by that of Antiochus; but they are all distinguished by
different surnames. Others of them assumed different names, and the last,
Antiochus XIII., was surnamed 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
to Eusebius.
The kings of Syria, the transactions of whose reigns are contained in the
fourth and fifth volumes, are eight in number.
(M20) Seleucus Nicator. He reigned twenty years.
(M21) Antiochus Soter, nineteen.
(M22) Antiochus Theos, fifteen.
(M23) Seleucus Callinicus, twenty.
(M24) Seleucus Ceraunus, three.
(M25) Antiochus the Great, thirty-six.
(M26) Seleucus Philopator, twelve.
(M27) Antiochus Epiphanes, brother of Seleucus Philopator, eleven.
III. The Kingdom of Macedonia.
(M28) Macedonia frequently changed its masters, after the solemn partition
had been made between the four princes. Cassander died three or four years
after 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.
(M29) Demetrius Poliorcetes, Pyrrhus, and Lysimachus, made themselves
masters of all, or the greatest part of Macedonia; sometimes in
conjunction, and at other times separately.
(M30) After the death of Lysimachus, Seleucus possessed himself of
Macedonia, but did not long enjoy it.
(M31) Ptolemy Ceraunus having slain the preceding prince, seized the
kingdom, and possessed it but a very short time, having lost his life in a
battle with the Gauls, who had made an irruption into that country.
(M32) Sosthenes, who defeated the Gauls, reigned but a short time in
Macedonia.
(M33) Antigonus Gonatas, the son of Demetrius Poliorcetes, at length
obtained the peaceable possession of the kingdom of Macedonia, and
transmitted it to his descendants, after he had reigned thirty-four years.
(M34) He was succeeded by his son Demetrius, who reigned ten years, and
then died, leaving a son named Philip, who was but two years old.
(M35) Antigonus Doson reigned twelve years in the quality of guardian to
the young prince.
(M36) Philip, after the death of Antigonus, ascended the throne at the age
of fourteen years, and reigned something more than forty.
(M37) His son Perseus succeeded him, and reigned about eleven years. He
was defeated and taken prisoner by Paulus Emilius; and Macedonia, in
consequence 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, who first obtained it, having
been killed in a battle after a reign of twenty years, and all his family
being exterminated by assassinations, his dominions were dismembered, and
no longer constituted one kingdom.
Beside the provinces which were divided among the captains of Alexander,
there were others which had been either formed before, or were then
erected into different states, independent of the Greeks, whose power
greatly increased in process of time.
Kings of Bithynia
(M38) Whilst Alexander was extending his conquests in the east, Zypethes
had laid the foundations of the kingdom of Bithynia. It is not certain who
this Zypethes was, unless that Pausanias,(246) from his name, conjectures
that he was a Thracian. His successors, however, are better known.
(M39) Nicomedes I. This prince invited the Gauls to assist him against his
brother, with whom he was engaged in a war.
Prusias I.
(M40) 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 Pergamus.
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
testimonial 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 Ægean sea, over-against the island of Lesbos.
(M41) It was founded by Philetærus, an eunuch, who had served under
Docimus, 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 of that
prince. He governed this little sovereignty for the space of twenty years,
and then left it to Eumenes his nephew.
(M42) Eumenes I. 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 twenty-two years.
(M43) He was succeeded by Attalus I., his cousin-german, who assumed the
title of king, after he had conquered the Galatians; and transmitted it to
his posterity, who enjoyed it to the third generation. He assisted the
Romans in their war with Philip, and died after a reign of forty-three
years. He left four sons.
(M44) His successor was Eumenes II., his eldest son, who founded the
famous library of Pergamus. He reigned thirty-nine years, and left the
crown to his brother Attalus, in the quality of guardian to one of his
sons, whom he had by Stratonice, the sister of Ariarathes, king of
Cappadocia. The Romans enlarged his dominions considerably, after the
victory they obtained over Antiochus the Great.
(M45) Attalus II. espoused Stratonice his brother’s widow, and took
extraordinary care of his nephew, to whom he left the crown, after he had
worn it twenty-one years.
(M46) Attalus III., surnamed Philometor, distinguished himself by his
barbarous and extravagant conduct. He died after he had reigned five
years, and bequeathed his riches and dominions to the Romans.
(M47) Aristonicus, who claimed the succession, endeavoured to defend his
pretensions against the Romans; but the kingdom of Pergamus was reduced
after a war of four years, into a Roman province.
Kings of Pontus.
(M48) The kingdom of Pontus in Asia Minor was anciently dismembered from
the monarchy of Persia, by Darius the son of Hystaspes, in favour of
Artabazus, who is said, by some historians, to have been the son of one of
those Persian lords who conspired against the Magi.
Pontus is a region of Asia Minor, 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.
(M49) The sixth monarch was Mithridates I., who is properly considered as
the founder of the kingdom of Pontus, and his name was assumed by the
generality of his successors.
(M50) He was succeeded by his son Ariobarzanes, who had governed Phrygia
under Artaxerxes Mnemon: he reigned twenty-six years.
(M51) His successor was Mithridates II. Antigonus 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
Κτισὴς, or _the Founder_, and reigned thirty-five years.
(M52) Mithridates III., who succeeded him, added Cappadocia and
Paphlagonia to his dominions, and reigned thirty-six years.
After the reigns of two other kings, Mithridates IV., the great
grandfather of Mithridates the Great, ascended the throne, and espoused a
daughter of Seleucus Callinicus, king of Syria, by whom he had Laodice,
who was married to Antiochus the Great.
(M53) He was succeeded by his son Pharnaces, who had some disagreement
with the kings of Pergamus. He made himself master of Sinope, which
afterwards 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.
(M54) He was succeeded by his son Mithridates VI., surnamed Eupator. This
is the great Mithridates who sustained so long a war with the Romans: he
reigned sixty-six years.
Kings of Cappadocia.
Strabo informs us,(247) that Cappadocia was divided into two satrapies, or
governments, 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 Cappadocia Major, which
extended along mount Taurus, and to a great distance beyond it.
(M55) When Alexander’s captains divided the provinces of his empire among
themselves, Cappadocia was governed by a prince named Ariarathes.
Perdiccas attacked and defeated him, after which he caused him to be
slain.
His son Ariarathes re-entered the kingdom of his father some time after
this event, and established himself so effectually, that he left it to his
posterity.
The generality of his successors assumed the same name, and will have
their place in the series of the history.
Cappadocia, after the death of Archelaus, the last of its kings, became a
province of the Roman empire, as the rest of Asia also did much about the
same time.
Kings of Armenia.
Armenia, a vast country of Asia, extending on each side of the Euphrates,
was conquered by the Persians; after which it was transferred, with the
rest of the empire, to the Macedonians, and at last fell to the share of
the Romans. It was governed for a great length of time by its own kings,
the most considerable of whom was Tigranes, who espoused the daughter of
the great Mithridates king of Pontus, and was also engaged in a long war
with the Romans. This 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
Molossians.
The kings of Epirus pretended to derive their descent from Pyrrhus the son
of Achilles, who established himself in that country, and called
themselves Æacides, from Æacus 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.(248)
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 depends 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.(249) When he returned from Athens, he made laws,
established a senate and magistracy, and regulated the form of the
government.
Neoptolemus, whose daughter Olympias had espoused Philip king of Macedon,
attained an equal share in the regal government with Arymbas his elder
brother, by the influence of his son-in-law. After the death of Arymbas,
Æacides 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 an
army into Italy, where he lost his life in the country of the Brutians.
Æacides 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 and Troias, and one son, the celebrated
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
little known, was placed on the throne by the people of Epirus.
Pyrrhus, being recalled by his subjects at the age of twelve years, first
shared the sovereignty with Neoptolemus; but having afterwards divested
him of his dignity, he reigned alone.
(M56) This history will treat of the various adventures of this prince. He
died in the city of Argos, in an attack to make himself master of it.
Helenus his son reigned after him for some time in Epirus, which was
afterwards united to the Roman empire.
Tyrants of Heraclea.
Heraclea is a city of Pontus, anciently founded by the Bœotians, who sent
a colony into that country by the order of an oracle.
When the Athenians, having conquered the Persians, had imposed a tribute
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.(250)
Lamachus was therefore sent against them, and he ravaged their
territories; but a violent tempest having destroyed his whole fleet, he
beheld himself abandoned to the mercy of that people, whose innate
ferocity might naturally have been increased by the severe treatment they
had lately received. But they had recourse to no other vengeance than
kindness;(251) they furnished him with provisions and troops for his
return, and were willing to consider the depredations which had been
committed in their country as advantageous to them, if at that price they
could convert the enmity of the Athenians into friendship.
(M57) Some time after this event, the populace of Heraclea excited a
violent commotion against the rich citizens and senators, who having
implored assistance to no effect, first from Timotheus the Athenian, and
afterwards from Epaminondas the Theban, were necessitated to recall
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, subservient 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 which he had not
recourse against the rich, and the senators, to satiate his avarice 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.
(M58) Timotheus, the son of Clearchus, assumed his place, and pursued his
conduct for the space of fifteen years.(252)
(M59) He was succeeded by his brother Dionysius, who was in danger of
being dispossessed of his authority by Perdiccas; but as this last was
soon destroyed, Dionysius contracted a friendship with Antigonus, whom he
assisted against Ptolemy in the Cyprian war.(253)
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.
(M60) He died two or three years before the battle of Ipsus, after a reign
of thirty-three years, leaving two sons and a daughter under the tutelage
and regency of Amastris.
This princess was rendered happy in her administration, by the affection
Antigonus entertained for her. She founded a city, and called it by her
own name; into which she transplanted the inhabitants of three other
cities, and espoused Lysimachus, after the death of Antigonus.(254)
Kings of Syracuse.
(M61) Hiero, and his son Hieronymus, reigned at Syracuse; the first
fifty-four years, the second but one year.
(M62) 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. (M63) His conduct obliged Marcellus to form the
siege of that city, which he took the following year. 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
variety of other places; but their history is very 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
a powerful monarchy, as became formidable even to the Roman empire. That
of the Bactrians received its original about the same period: I shall
treat of each in their proper places.
Catalogue of the Editions of the principal Greek Authors cited in this
Work.
HERODOTUS. Francof. An. 1608.
THUCYDIDES. Apud Henricum Stephanum, An. 1588.
XENOPHON. Lutetiæ Parisiorum, apud Societatem Græcarum Editionum, An.
1625.
POLYBIUS. Parisiis, An. 1609.
DIODORUS SICULUS. Hanoviæ, Typis Wechelianis, An 1604.
PLUTARCHUS. Lutetiæ Parisiorum, apud Societatem Græcanum Editionum, An.
1624.
STRABO. Lutetiæ Parisiorum, Typis regiis, An. 1620.
ATHENÆUS. Lugdani, An. 1612.
PAUSANIAS. Hanoviæ, Typis Wechelianis, An. 1613.
APPIANUS ALEXANDER. Apud Henric. Stephan. An. 1592.
PLATO. Ex novâ Joannis Serrani interpretatione. Apud Henricum Stephanum,
An. 1578.
ARISTOTELES. Lutetiæ Parisiorum, apud Societatem Græcarum Editionum, An.
1619.
ISOCRATES. Apud Paulum Stephanum, An. 1604.
DIOGENES LAERTIUS. Apud Henricum Stepnanum, An. 1594.
DEMOSTHENES. Francof. An. 1604.
ARRIANUS. Lugd. Batav. An. 1704.
BOOK THE FIRST. THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE EGYPTIANS.
Part The First. Description of Egypt: with an Account of whatever is most
curious and remarkable in that Country.
Egypt comprehended anciently, within limits of no very great extent, a
prodigious number of cities,(255) and an incredible multitude of
inhabitants.
It is bounded on the east by the Red-Sea and the Isthmus of Suez; on the
south by Ethiopia, on the west by Libya, and on the north by the
Mediterranean. The Nile runs from south to north, through the whole
country, 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 the river Nile, a tract of ground, of not above half
a day’s journey in length,(256) and 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
Alexandria to Damietta, being about fifty leagues.
Ancient Egypt may be divided into three principal parts: Upper Egypt,
otherwise 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.(257)
The cities of Syene and Elephantina divided Egypt from Ethiopia; and in
the days of Augustus were the boundaries of the Roman empire: _Claustra
olim Romani Imperii_, Tacit. _Annal._ Lib. ii. cap. 61.
Chapter I. Thebais.
Thebes, from whence Thebais had its name, might vie with the noblest
cities in the universe. Its hundred gates, celebrated by Homer,(258) are
universally known; and acquired it the surname of Hecatompylos, to
distinguish it from the other Thebes in Bœotia. Its population was
proportionate to its extent; and, according to History, it could send out
at once two hundred chariots, and ten thousand fighting men at each of its
gates.(259) The Greeks and Romans have celebrated its magnificence and
grandeur, though they saw it only in its ruins; so august were the remains
of this city.(260)
In the Thebaid, now called Said, have been discovered temples and palaces
which are still almost entire, adorned with innumerable columns and
statues.(261) One palace especially is admired, the remains whereof seem
to have existed purely to eclipse the glory of the most pompous edifices.
Four walks extending 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 porticos, 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, in 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 themselves, which soonest
feel the injury of time, still remain amidst the ruins of this wonderful
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
resembling that of which I have been speaking.(262)
The same author, describing the curiosities of Thebais,(263) speaks of a
very famous statue of Memnon, the remains whereof he had seen. It is said
that this statue, when the beams of the rising sun first shone upon it in
the morning, uttered an articulate sound.(264) And, indeed, Strabo himself
was an ear-witness of this; but then he doubts whether the sound came from
the statue.
Chapter II. Middle Egypt, or Heptanomis.
Memphis was the capital of this part of Egypt. In this city were to be
seen many stately temples, among them that of the god Apis, who was
honoured here after a peculiar manner. I shall speak of it hereafter, as
well as of the pyramids 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, is built on the other
side of that river.(265) The castle of Cairo is one of the greatest
curiosities in 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 because such a tradition
has been preserved in the country. This is a proof, at least, that the
work in question is very ancient; and it is certainly worthy the
magnificence of the most powerful kings of Egypt. This well has, as it
were, two stories, cut out of the solid rock to a prodigious depth. The
descent to the reservoir of water, between the two wells, is by a
staircase seven or eight feet broad, consisting of two hundred and twenty
steps, and so contrived, that the oxen employed to throw up the water, go
down with all imaginable ease, the 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
lower-most 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 Egyptians, I
thought it might deserve a place among the curiosities of ancient Egypt.
Strabo speaks of a similar 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.(266)
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
Mœris, 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
perpendicularly, 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 disguise 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.(267)
They were each one hundred-and-twenty cubits high, that is, thirty
fathoms, or one hundred and eighty feet.(268) The emperor Augustus, having
made Egypt a province of the empire, caused these two obelisks to be
transported to Rome, one whereof was afterwards broken to pieces. He dared
not venture to make the same attempt upon a third, which was of a
monstrous size.(269) It was made in the reign of Rameses: it is said that
twenty thousand men were employed in the cutting of it. Constantius, 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 Cæsar had it brought from Egypt in a ship of so odd a
form, that, according to Pliny, the like had never been seen.(270)
Every part of Egypt abounded with this kind of obelisks; they were for the
most part cut in the quarries of Upper Egypt, 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, and statues on rafts,(271) proportioned to their weight, in
order to convey them into Lower Egypt. And as the country was intersected
every where with canals, there were few places to which those huge bodies
might not be carried with ease; although their weight would have broken
every other kind of engine.
SECT. II. THE PYRAMIDS.—A PYRAMID is a solid or hollow body, having a
large, and generally a square base, and terminating in a point.(272)
There were three pyramids in Egypt more famous than the rest, one whereof
was justly ranked among the seven wonders of the world; they stood not
very far from the city of Memphis. I 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 hieroglyphics. According to several ancient authors, each
side was eight hundred feet broad, and as many high. The summit of the
pyramid, which to those who viewed it from below seemed a point, was a
fine platform, composed of ten or twelve massy stones, and each side of
that platform sixteen or eighteen feet long.
M. de Chazelles, of 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 therefore the superficies of the base is 12100 square
fathoms; the perpendicular height, 77-3/4 fathoms; the solid contents,
313590 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 conveying them to Egypt; and twenty years more in
building this immense edifice, 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 of this description, for the workmen; and the whole amounted to
sixteen hundred talents of silver,(273) that is, four millions five
hundred thousand French livres; 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 sepulchre, cut out of one entire stone, about three
feet deep and broad, and a little above six feet long.(274) Thus all this
bustle, all this expense, and all the labours of so many thousand men for
so many years, 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 unheard-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 fury 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.(275) 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, to 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, and by the help of money, immense
structures, with the sole view of rendering 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 few words,(276) a just idea of these pyramids, when he
calls them a foolish and useless ostentation of the wealth of the Egyptian
kings; _Regum pecuniæ otiosa ac stulta ostentatio._ And adds, that by a
just punishment their memory is buried in oblivion; the historians not
agreeing among themselves about the names of those who first raised those
vain monuments: _Inter eos non constat à quibus factæ sint, justissimo
casu obliteratis tantæ vanitatis auctoribus._ In a word, according to the
judicious remark of Diodorus, the industry of the architects of those
pyramids is no less valuable and praiseworthy, than the design of the
Egyptian kings is 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, but by a long series of years, and a great number of
observations. M. de Chazelles, 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, consequently, showed the true meridian of that
place. Now, as so exact a situation 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 eulogium of M. de Chazelles.
SECT. III. THE LABYRINTH.—What 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.(277) It was built at the southern extremity of the lake of
Mœris, whereof mention will be made presently, near the town of
Crocodiles, the same with Arsinoë. It was not so much one single palace,
as a magnificent pile composed of twelve palaces, regularly disposed,
which had a communication with each other. Fifteen hundred rooms,
interspersed with terraces, were ranged round twelve halls, and discovered
no outlet to such as went to see them. There was the like number of
buildings under ground. These subterraneous structures were designed for
the burying-place of the kings, and also (who can speak this without
confusion, and without deploring the blindness of man!) for keeping the
sacred crocodiles, 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. Virgil describes it in this
manner:—
Ut quondam Cretâ fertur labyrinthus in altâ
Parietibus textum cæcis iter ancipitémque
Mille viis habuisse dolum, quà signa sequendi
Falleret indeprensus et irremeabilis error.(278)
Híc labor ille domûs, et inextricabilis error.
Dædalus, ipse dolos tecti ambagésque resolvit,
Cæca regens filo vestigia.(279)
And as the Cretan labyrinth of old,
With wand’ring ways, and many a winding fold,
Involv’d the weary feet without redress,
In a round error, which deny’d recess:
Not far from thence he grav’d the wond’rous maze;
A thousand doors, a thousand winding ways
SECT. IV. THE LAKE OF MŒRIS.—The noblest and most wonderful of all the
structures or works of the kings of Egypt, was the lake of Mœris:
accordingly, Herodotus considers it as vastly superior to the pyramids and
labyrinth.(280) As Egypt was more or less fruitful in proportion to the
inundations of the Nile; and as in these floods, the too great or too
little rise of the waters was equally fatal to the lands, king Mœris, to
prevent these two inconveniences, and to correct, as far as lay in his
power, the irregularities of the Nile, thought proper to call art to the
assistance 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
hundred stadia, that is, about one hundred and eighty French leagues, and
three hundred feet deep.(281) Two pyramids, on each of which was placed a
colossal statue, seated on a throne, raised their heads to the height of
three hundred feet, in the midst of the lake, whilst 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 related concerning the lake Mœris, on the
testimony of the inhabitants of the country. And M. Bossuet, the bishop of
Meaux, in his discourse on universal 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 what
manner, and where, 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 superfluous waters of the Nile?
Many other objections might be made. In my opinion, therefore, we ought to
follow Pomponius Mela, an ancient geographer; especially as his account is
confirmed by several modern travellers. According to that author, this
lake is but twenty thousand paces; that is, seven or eight French leagues
in circumference. _Mœris, aliquando campus, nunc lacus, viginti millia
passuum in circuitu patens._(282)
This lake had a communication with the Nile, by a great canal, more than
four leagues long,(283) and fifty feet broad. Great sluices either opened
or shut the canal and lake, as there was occasion.
The charge of opening or shutting them amounted to fifty talents, that is,
fifty thousand French crowns.(284) The fishing of this lake brought the
monarch immense sums; but its chief utility related to the overflowing of
the Nile. When it rose 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 contrary, when the inundation was too low, and
threatened a famine, a sufficient quantity of water, by the help of
drains, was let out of the lake, to water the lands. In this manner the
irregularities of the Nile 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 ensued; and even when it rose
but to eight cubits, the dearth was scarce felt in the country; 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 river, which waters the whole
country by its regular inundations, supplies that defect, by bringing, as
a yearly tribute, the rains of other countries; which made a poet say
ingeniously, “the Egyptian pastures, how great soever the drought may be,
never implore Jupiter for rain:”
Te propter nullos tellus tua postulat imbres,
Arida nec pluvio supplicat herba Jovi.(285)
To multiply so beneficent a river, Egypt was cut into 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 require a more particular description, in which I shall be
as concise as possible.
1. _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 great 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 signifying eye and fountain. These
springs are thirty paces from one another, each as large as one of our
wells or a coach-wheel. The Nile is increased with many rivulets which run
into it; and after passing through Ethiopia in a very winding course,
flows at last into Egypt.
2. _The Cataracts of the Nile._—This name is given to some parts of the
Nile, where the water falls down from the steep rocks.(286) This river,
which at first glided smoothly along the vast 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, broken through all
obstacles in its way, it precipitates itself from the top of some rocks to
the bottom, 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 the water. After having long sustained the violence of
the raging waves, by managing their little boat very dexterously, they
suffer themselves to be carried away with the impetuous torrent as swift
as an arrow. The affrighted spectator 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 again, at a considerable
distance, on its smooth and calm waters. This is Seneca’s account, which
is confirmed by our modern travellers.
3. _Causes of the Inundations of the Nile._—The ancients have invented
many subtle reasons for the Nile’s great increase, as may be seen in
Herodotus, Diodorus Siculus, and Seneca.(287) But it is now no longer a
matter of dispute, it being almost universally allowed, that 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,(288) 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; Ptolemy Philadelphus, who was very curious in all things relating
to arts and sciences, having sent thither able persons, purposely to
examine this matter, and to ascertain the cause of so uncommon and
remarkable an effect.
4. _The Time and Continuance of the Inundations._—Herodotus, and after him
Diodorus Siculus, and several other authors, declare, that the Nile begins
to swell 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; after which it
returns to its channel, and resumes its wonted course.(289) 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 which
fall in Ethiopia. Now, according to the constant testimony of those who
have been 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 after the rains have begun to fall in Abyssinia; and
accordingly travellers observe, 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 happens not till about the end of June, and
lasts the three following months, according to Herodotus.
I must point out to such as consult the originals, a contradiction in this
place between Herodotus and Diodorus on one side; and between Strabo,
Pliny, and Solinus, on the other. These last shorten very much the
continuance of the inundation; and suppose the Nile to draw off 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:
_In totum autem revocatur Nilus intra ripas in Librá, ut tradit Herodotus,
centesimo die._ I leave to the learned the reconciling of this
contradiction.
5. _The Height of the Inundations._—The just height of the inundation,
according to Pliny, is sixteen cubits.(290) When it rises but to twelve or
thirteen, a famine is threatened; and when it exceeds sixteen, there is
danger. It must be remembered, that a cubit is a foot and a half. The
emperor Julian takes notice, in a letter to Ecdicius, prefect of
Egypt,(291) 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, nor with the moderns, with regard to the height of the
inundation; but the 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 historians; 3. from the real difference of the Nile’s
increase, which was not so great the nearer it approached the sea.
As the riches of Egypt depended on the inundation of the Nile, all the
circumstances and different degrees of its increase had been 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.(292) 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.(293)
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 for the
lands, is regulated by the inundation. The day on which it rises to a
certain height, is kept as a grand festival, and solemnized with
fire-works, feastings, 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.(294) The emperor Constantine having ordered it to
be removed 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.
6. _The Canals of the Nile and Spiral Pumps._—Divine Providence, in giving
so beneficent 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 stand very thick on
the banks of the Nile on eminences, have each their canals, which are
opened at proper times, to let the water into the country. The more
distant villages have theirs also, even to the extremities of the kingdom.
Thus the waters are 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 all at once; 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, according to the rules prescribed in 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 so great, that of all the waters which flow into Egypt during the
months of June, July, and August, it is believed that not a tenth part of
them reaches the sea.
But as, notwithstanding all these canals, there are still abundance of
high lands which cannot receive the benefit of the Nile’s overflowing;
this want is supplied by spiral pumps, which are turned by oxen, in order
to bring the water into pipes, which convey it to these lands. Diodorus
speaks of a similar engine invented by Archimedes in his travels into
Egypt, which is called _Cochlea Ægyptia_.(295)
7. _The Fertility caused by the Nile._—There is no country in the world
where the soil is more fruitful than in Egypt; which is owing entirely to
the Nile. For whereas other rivers, when they overflow lands, wash away
and exhaust their vivific moisture; the Nile, on the contrary, by the
excellent slime it brings along with it, fattens and enriches them in such
a manner, as sufficiently compensates for what the foregoing harvest had
impaired.(296) The husbandman, in this country, never tires himself with
holding the plough, or breaking the clods of earth. As soon as the Nile
retires, he has nothing to do but to turn up the earth, and temper it with
a little sand, in order to lessen its rankness; after which he sows it
with great ease, and with little or no expense. Two months after, it is
covered with all sorts of corn and pulse. The Egyptians generally sow in
October and November, according as the waters draw off; and their harvest
is in March and April.
The same land bears, in one year, three or four different kinds of crops.
Lettuces and cucumbers are sown first; then corn; and, after harvest,
several sorts of pulse which are peculiar to Egypt. As the sun is
extremely hot in this country, and rains fall very seldom in it, it is
natural to suppose that the earth would soon be parched, and the corn and
pulse burnt up by so scorching a heat, were it not for the canals and
reservoirs with which Egypt abounds; and which, by the drains from thence,
amply supply wherewith to water and refresh the fields and gardens.
The Nile contributes no less to the nourishment of cattle, which is
another source of wealth to Egypt. The Egyptians begin to turn them out to
grass in November, and they graze till the end of March. Words could never
express how rich their pastures are; and how fat the flocks and herds
(which, by reason of the mildness of the air, are out night and day) grow
in a very little time. During the inundation of the Nile, they are fed
with hay and cut straw, barley and beans, which are their common food.
A man cannot, says Corneille de Bruyn in his Travels,(297) help observing
the admirable providence of God towards this country, who sends at a fixed
season such great quantities of rain in Ethiopia, in order to water Egypt,
where a shower of rain scarce ever falls; and who, by that means, causes
the driest and most sandy soil to become the richest and most fruitful
country in the universe.
Another thing to be observed here is, that (as the inhabitants say) in the
beginning of June, and the four following months, the north-east winds
blow constantly, in order to keep back the waters, which otherwise would
draw off too fast; and to hinder them from discharging themselves into the
sea, the entrance to which these winds bar up, as it were, from them. The
ancients have not omitted this circumstance.
The same Providence, whose ways are wonderful and infinitely various,
displayed itself after a quite different manner in Palestine, in rendering
it exceeding fruitful;(298) not by rains, which fall during the course of
the year, as is usual in other places; nor by a peculiar inundation like
that of the Nile in Egypt; but by sending fixed rains at two seasons, when
his people were obedient to him, to make them more sensible of their
continual dependence upon him. God himself commands them, by his servant
Moses, to make this reflection: “The land whither thou goest in to possess
it, is not as the land of Egypt, from whence ye came out, where thou
sowedst thy seed, and wateredst it with thy foot, as a garden of herbs:
but the land whither ye go to possess it, is a land of hills and valleys,
and drinketh water of the rain of heaven.”(299) After this, God promises
to give his people, so long as they shall continue obedient to him, “the
former” and “the latter rain:” the first in autumn, to bring up the corn;
and the second in the spring and summer, to make it grow and ripen.
8. _The different Prospects exhibited by the Nile._—There cannot be a
finer sight than Egypt at two seasons of the year. For if a man ascends
some mountain, or one of the largest pyramids of Grand Cairo, in the
months of July and August, he beholds a vast sea, in which numberless
towns and villages appear, with several causeys leading from place to
place; the whole interspersed with groves and fruit trees, whose tops only
are visible; all which forms a delightful prospect.(300) This view is
bounded by mountains and woods, which terminate, at the utmost distance
the eye can discover, the most beautiful horizon that can be imagined. On
the contrary, in winter, that is to say, in the months of January and
February, the whole country is like one continued scene of beautiful
meadows, whose verdure, enamelled with flowers, charms the eye. The
spectator beholds, on every side, flocks and herds dispersed over all the
plains, with infinite numbers of husbandmen and gardeners. The air is then
perfumed by the great quantity of blossoms on the orange, lemon, and other
trees; and is so pure, that a wholesomer or more agreeable is not found in
the world; so that nature, being then dead, as it were, in all other
climates, seems to be alive only for so delightful an abode.
9. _The Canal formed by the Nile, by which a communication in made between
the two Seas._—The canal, by which a communication was made between the
Red-Sea and the Mediterranean, ought to have a place here, as it was not
one of the least advantages which the Nile procured to Egypt.(301)
Sesostris, or, according to others, Psammetichus, first projected the
design, and began this work. Necho, successor to the last prince, laid out
immense sums upon it, and employed a prodigious number of men. It is said,
that above six score thousand Egyptians perished in the undertaking. He
gave it over, terrified by an oracle, which told him that he would thereby
open a door for Barbarians (for by this name they called all foreigners)
to enter Egypt. The work was continued by Darius, the first of that name;
but he also desisted from it, upon his being told, that as the Red-Sea lay
higher than Egypt, it would drown the whole country. But it was at last
finished under the Ptolemies, who, by the help of sluices, opened or shut
the canal as there was occasion. It began not far from the Delta, near the
town of Bubastus. It was a hundred cubits, that is, twenty-five fathoms
broad, so that two vessels might pass with ease; it had depth enough to
carry the largest ships; and was about a thousand stadia, that is, above
fifty leagues long. This canal was of great service to the trade of Egypt.
But it is now almost filled up, and there are scarce any remains of it to
be seen.
Chapter III. Lower Egypt.
I am now to speak of Lower Egypt. Its shape, which resembles a triangle,
or Delta, Δ, gave occasion to its bearing the latter name, which is that
of one of the Greek letters. Lower Egypt forms a kind of island; it begins
at a place where the Nile is divided into two large canals, through which
it empties itself into the Mediterranean: the mouth on the right hand is
called the Pelusian, and the other the Canopic, from two cities in their
neighbourhood, Pelusium and Canopus, now called Damietta and Rosetta.
Between these two large branches, there are five others of less note. This
island is the best cultivated, the most fruitful, and the richest part of
Egypt. Its chief cities (very anciently) were Heliopolis, Heracleopolis,
Naucratis, Sais, Tanis, Canopus, Pelusium; and, in latter times,
Alexandria, Nicopolis, &c. It was in the country of Tanis that the
Israelites dwelt.
There was at Sais,(302) a temple dedicated to Minerva, who is supposed to
be the same as Isis, with the following inscription: “I am whatever hath
been, and is, and shall be; and no mortal hath yet pierced through the
veil that shrouds me.”
Heliopolis, that is, the city of the sun, was so called from a magnificent
temple there dedicated to that planet.(303) Herodotus, and other authors
after him, relate some particulars concerning the Phœnix and this temple,
which, if true, would indeed be very wonderful. Of this kind of birds, if
we may believe the ancients, there is never but one at a time in the
world. He is brought forth in Arabia, lives five or six hundred years, and
is of the size of an eagle. His head is adorned with a shining and most
beautiful crest; the feathers of his neck are of a gold colour, and the
rest of a purple; his tail is white, intermixed with red, and his eyes
sparkling like stars. When he is old, and finds his end approaching, he
builds a nest with wood and aromatic spices, and then dies. Of his bones
and marrow, a worm is produced, out of which another Phœnix is formed. His
first care is to solemnize his parent’s obsequies, for which purpose he
makes up a ball in the shape of an egg, with abundance of perfumes of
myrrh, as heavy as he can carry, which he often essays beforehand; then he
makes a hole in it, where he deposits his parent’s body, and closes it
carefully with myrrh and other perfumes. After this he takes up the
precious load on his shoulders, and flying to the altar of the sun, in the
city of Heliopolis, he there burns it.
Herodotus and Tacitus dispute the truth of some of the circumstances of
this account, but seem to suppose it true in general. Pliny, on the
contrary, in the very beginning of his account of it, insinuates plainly
enough, that he looks upon the whole as fabulous; and this is the opinion
of all modern authors.
This ancient tradition, though grounded on an evident falsehood, hath yet
introduced into almost all languages, the custom of giving the name of
phœnix to whatever is singular and uncommon in its kind: _Rara avis in
terris_, says Juvenal,(304) speaking of the difficulty of finding an
accomplished woman in all respects. And Seneca observes the same of a good
man.(305)
What is reported of swans, _viz._ that they never sing but in their
expiring moments, and that then they warble very melodiously, is likewise
grounded merely on a vulgar error; and yet it is used, not only by the
poets, but also by the orators, and even the philosophers. _O mutis quoque
piscibus donatura cycni, si libeat, sonum_,(306) says Horace to Melpomene.
Cicero compares the excellent discourse which Crassus made in the Senate,
a few days before his death, to the melodious singing of a dying swan:
_Illa tanquam cycnea fuit divini hominis vox et oratio._ _De Orat._ l.
iii. n. 6. And Socrates used to say, that good men ought to imitate swans,
who, perceiving by a secret instinct, and a sort of divination, what
advantage there is in death, die singing and with joy: _Providentes quid
in morte boni sit, cum cantu et voluptate moriuntur._ _Tusc. Qu._ l. i. n.
73. I thought this short digression might be of service to youth; and
return now to my subject.
It was in Heliopolis, that an ox, under the name of Mnevis, was worshipped
as a god.(307) Cambyses, king of Persia, exercised his sacrilegious rage
on this city; burning the temples, demolishing the palaces, and destroying
the most precious monuments of antiquity in it. There are still to be seen
some obelisks which escaped his fury; and others were brought from thence
to Rome, to which city they are an ornament even at this day.
Alexandria, built by Alexander the Great, from whom it had its name, vied
almost in magnificence with the ancient cities in Egypt. It stands four
days’ journey from Cairo, and was formerly the chief mart of all the trade
of the East. The merchandises were unloaded at Portus Murius,(308) a town
on the western coast of the Red-Sea;(309) from whence they were brought
upon camels to a town of Thebais, called Copht, and afterwards conveyed
down the Nile to Alexandria, whither merchants resorted from all parts.
It is well known that the trade of the East hath, at all times, enriched
those who carried it on. This was the chief source of the vast treasures
that Solomon amassed, and which enabled him to build the magnificent
temple of Jerusalem. David, by conquering Idumæa, became master of Elath
and Esiongeber, two towns situated on the eastern shore of the
Red-Sea.(310) From these two ports,(311) Solomon sent fleets to Ophir and
Tarshish, which always brought back immense riches.(312) This traffic,
after having been enjoyed some time by the Syrians, who regained Idumæa,
passed from them into the hands of the Tyrians. These got all their
merchandise conveyed, by the way of Rhinocolura (a sea-port town lying
between the confines of Egypt and Palestine) to Tyre, from whence they
distributed them all over the western world.(313) Hereby the Tyrians
enriched themselves exceedingly, under the Persian empire, by the favour
and protection of whose monarchs they had the full possession of this
trade. But when the Ptolemies had made themselves masters of Egypt, they
soon drew all this trade into their kingdom, by building Berenice and
other ports on the western side of the Red-Sea, belonging to Egypt; and
fixed their chief mart at Alexandria, which thereby rose to be the city of
the greatest trade in the world. There it continued for a great many
centuries after; and all the traffic which the western parts of the world
from that time had with Persia, India, Arabia, and the eastern coasts of
Africa, was wholly carried on through the Red-Sea and the mouth of the
Nile, till a way was discovered, a little above two hundred years since,
of sailing to those parts by the Cape of Good Hope. After this, the
Portuguese for some time were masters of this trade; but now it is in a
manner engrossed wholly by the English and Dutch. This short account of
the East-India trade, from Solomon’s time, to the present age, is
extracted from Dr. Prideaux.(314)
For the convenience of trade, there was built near Alexandria, in an
island called Pharos, a tower which bore the same name.(315) At the top of
this tower was kept a fire, to light such ships as sailed by night near
those dangerous coasts, which were full of sands and shelves, from whence
all other towers, designed for the same use, have derived their name, as,
Pharo di Messina, &c. The famous architect Sostratus built it by order of
Ptolemy Philadelphus, who expended eight hundred talents upon it.(316) It
was reckoned one of the seven wonders of the world. Some, through a
mistake, have commended that prince, for permitting the architect to put
his name in the inscription, which was fixed on the tower, instead of his
own.(317) It was very short and plain, according to the manner of the
ancients. _Sostratus Cnidius Dexiphanis F. Diis Servatoribus pro
navigantibus_: _i.e._ Sostratus the Cnidian, son of Dexiphanes, to the
protecting deities, for the use of sea-faring people. But certainly
Ptolemy must have very much undervalued that kind of immortality which
princes are generally so fond of, to suffer, that his name should not be
so much as mentioned in the inscription of an edifice so capable of
immortalizing him. What we read in Lucian concerning this matter, deprives
Ptolemy of a modesty, which indeed would be very ill placed here.(318)
This author informs us that Sostratus, to engross in after-times the whole
glory of that noble structure to himself, caused the inscription with his
own name to be carved in the marble, which he afterwards covered with
lime, and thereon put the king’s name. The lime soon mouldered away; and
by that means, instead of procuring the architect the honour with which he
had flattered himself, served only to discover to future ages his mean
fraud and ridiculous vanity.
Riches failed not to bring into this city, as they usually do in all
places, luxury and licentiousness; so that the Alexandrian voluptuousness
became a proverb.(319) In this city arts and sciences were also
industriously cultivated, witness that stately edifice, surnamed the
Museum, where the literati used to meet, and were maintained at the public
expense; and the famous library, which was augmented considerably by
Ptolemy Philadelphus; and which, by the magnificence of the kings his
successors, at last contained seven hundred thousand volumes. In Cæsar’s
wars with the Alexandrians, part of this library, (situate in the
Bruchion,(320)) which consisted of four hundred thousand volumes, was
unhappily consumed by fire.(321)
Part The Second. Of the Manners and Customs of the Egyptians.
Egypt was ever considered, by all the ancients, as the most renowned
school for wisdom and politics, and the source from whence most arts and
sciences were derived. This kingdom bestowed its noblest labours and
finest arts on the improvement of mankind; and Greece was so sensible of
this, that its most illustrious men, as Homer, Pythagoras, Plato; even its
great legislators, Lycurgus and Solon, with many more whom it is needless
to mention, travelled into Egypt, to complete their studies, and draw from
that fountain whatever was most rare and valuable in every kind of
learning. God himself has given this kingdom a glorious testimony, when
praising Moses, he says of him, that “He was learned in all the wisdom of
the Egyptians.”(322)
To give some idea of the manners and customs of Egypt, I shall confine
myself principally to these particulars: its kings and government; priests
and religion; soldiers and war; sciences, arts, and trades.
The reader must not be surprised if he sometimes finds, in the customs I
take 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 usages; or to the different way of thinking of the historians
whom I copy.
Chapter I. Concerning The Kings And Government.
The Egyptians were the first people who rightly understood the rules of
government. A nation so grave and serious immediately perceived, that the
true end of politics is, to make life easy, and a people happy.
The kingdom was hereditary; but, according to Diodorus,(323) 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 actions than his own arbitrary will and pleasure. But here, kings were
under greater restraint from the laws than their subjects. They had some
particular ones digested by a former monarch, that composed part of what
the Egyptians called the sacred books. Thus every thing being settled by
ancient custom, they never sought to live in a different way from their
ancestors.
No slave nor foreigner was admitted into the immediate service of the
prince; such a post was too important to be intrusted 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 approaching the king’s person day and night, he might, from men
so qualified, hear nothing which was unbecoming the royal majesty; nor
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, unless those who approach them approve their
irregularities, or serve as instruments to their passions.
The kings of Egypt freely permitted, not only the quality and proportion
of what they ate and drank to be prescribed them, (a thing customary in
Egypt, whose inhabitants were all sober, and whose air inspired
frugality,) 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
consideration that day.
As soon as they were dressed, they went to the daily sacrifice performed
in the temple; where, surrounded with their whole court, and the victims
placed before the altar, they assisted at the prayer pronounced aloud by
the high priest, in which he asked of the gods, health and all other
blessings for the king, because he governed his people with clemency and
justice, and made the laws of his 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 next spoke of the faults which kings might be guilty
of; but supposed at the same time that they never committed any, except by
surprise or ignorance; and loaded with imprecations such of their
ministers as gave them ill council, 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 most
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
sacrifices were ended, the councils 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 so happy.
I have already observed, that the quantity as well as quality of what he
ate or drank were prescribed, by the laws, to the king: his table was
covered with nothing but the most common food; because eating in Egypt was
designed, not to tickle 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, rather than by a legislator. The same simplicity was
seen in all other things; and we read in Plutarch of a temple in Thebes,
which had one of its pillars inscribed with imprecations against that king
who first introduced profusion and luxury into Egypt.(324)
The principal duty of kings, and their most essential function, is the
administering 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
unprotected, 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. 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
honourably maintained by the generosity of the prince, they administered
gratuitously 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 eloquence was dreaded, which
dazzles the mind, and moves the passions. Truth could not be expressed
with too much plainness, as it alone was to have the 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 president
of this senate wore a collar of gold set with precious stones, at which
hung 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 upon business. He touched the party with it who was to gain his
cause, and this was the form of passing sentence.
The most excellent circumstance in the laws of the Egyptians, was, that
every individual, from his infancy, was nurtured in the strictest
observance of them. A new custom in Egypt was a kind of miracle.(325) All
things there ran in the old channel; and the exactness with which little
matters were adhered to, preserved those of more importance; and
consequently no nation ever retained their laws and customs longer than
the Egyptians.
Wilful murder was punished with death,(326) 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 were superior to that of
the Romans, who gave the master an absolute power of life and death over
his slave. The emperor Adrian, indeed, abolished this law; from an
opinion, that an abuse of this nature ought to be reformed, let its
antiquity or authority be ever so great.
Perjury was also punished with death,(327) 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 veracity.
The false accuser was condemned to undergo the punishment which the person
accused was to have suffered, had the accusation been proved.(328)
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:(329) 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 this kind. Thus the subjects were a guard and protection to one
another; and the whole body of the community united against the designs of
the bad.
No man was allowed to be useless to the state;(330) but every one was
obliged to enter his name and place of abode in a public register, that
remained in the hands of the magistrate, and to describe his profession,
and his means of support. If he gave a false account of himself, he was
immediately put to death.
To prevent borrowing of money, the parent of sloth, frauds, and chicane,
king Asychis made a very judicious law.(331) The wisest and best regulated
states, as Athens and Rome, ever found insuperable difficulties, in
contriving a just medium, to restrain, on one hand, the cruelty of the
creditor 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 any injury to the personal
liberty of its inhabitants, or ruining their families, pursued the debtor
with incessant fears of 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 Egyptian embalmed with great care; and kept
reverentially in his house, (as will be observed in the sequel,) and
therefore might be easily 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
customary honours paid to the dead.(332)
Diodorus remarks an error committed by some of the Grecian
legislators.(333) 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 discharging their debts, and getting their bread:
but, at the same time, they permitted the creditor to imprison the
peasants themselves, who alone were capable of using these implements,
which exposed them to the same inconveniences, and at the same time
deprived the government of persons who belong, 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 the priests, who could marry but
one woman.(334) 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 laws, but even, in some measure, originated
from 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.(335)
A very great respect was there paid to old age.(336) The young were
obliged to rise up for the old; and on every occasion, to resign to them
the most honourable seat. The Spartans borrowed this law from the
Egyptians.
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,
shows that they were the best formed of any nation for social life.
Benefits are the band of concord, both public and private. He who
acknowledges favours, loves to confer them; and in banishing ingratitude,
the pleasure of doing good remains so pure and engaging, that it is
impossible for a man to be insensible of it. But it was particularly
towards their kings that the Egyptians prided themselves on evincing their
gratitude. They honoured them whilst living, as so many visible
representations of the Deity; and after their death lamented for them as
the fathers of their country. These sentiments of respect and tenderness
proceeded from a strong persuasion, that the Divinity himself had placed
them upon the throne, as he distinguished them so greatly from all other
mortals; and that kings bore the most noble characteristics of the Supreme
Being, as the power and will of doing good to others were united in their
persons.