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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a9d67b0 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66792 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66792) diff --git a/old/66792-0.txt b/old/66792-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index dc3a3e8..0000000 --- a/old/66792-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15673 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Great leaders, by George Titus Ferris - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Great leaders - -Author: George Titus Ferris - -Release Date: November 22, 2021 [eBook #66792] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Turgut Dincer, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREAT LEADERS *** - - - [Illustration: PERICLES.] - - - - - GREAT LEADERS - - HISTORIC PORTRAITS - - FROM THE GREAT HISTORIANS - - SELECTED, WITH NOTES AND BRIEF BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES - - BY G. T. FERRIS - - NEW YORK - D. APPLETON AND COMPANY - 1889 - - - COPYRIGHT, 1889, - BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -Every one perusing the pages of the historians must have been impressed -with the graphic and singularly penetrative character of many of the -sketches of the distinguished persons whose doings form the staple of -history. These pen-portraits often stand out from the narrative with -luminous and vivid effect, the writers seeming to have concentrated upon -them all their powers of penetration and all their skill in graphic -delineation. Few things in literature are marked by analysis so close, -discernment so keen, or by effects so brilliant and dramatic. In some of -the later historians this feature is specially noticeable, but it was -Hume’s admirable portrayal of the character of Alfred the Great that -suggested the compilation of the present volume. - -A selection such as this of the more striking passages in the great -historians will serve, it is believed, a double purpose--first as a -suitable introduction to these distinguished writers for those not -acquainted with them, and next as a means of stimulating a taste for the -study of history itself. It must be remembered that it is largely -through their sympathies for persons that readers generally find -pleasure in history. The sometimes noble and sometimes startling -personality of great leaders exerts a fascinating effect upon all -susceptible minds, and whatever brings this personality vividly before -us greatly strengthens our interest in the records of the past. For -these reasons this compilation will be found well adapted for the -reading class in high schools and seminaries. - -It is desirable to explain that in some instances the selections do not -appear here exactly in the form of the original. Passages from different -pages are sometimes brought together, so as to give completeness to the -portrait, but in no other way has any liberty been taken with the text -of the authors. - -In making the selections, the primary object was to secure, in each -instance, the most vivid and truthful portrait obtainable, but it was -also thought desirable to render the volume as representative of -historical literature as possible, and hence to include a wide range of -writers. The work will be found to be tolerably representative in this -particular, but some well-known historians do not appear, for the reason -that their methods did not yield suitable material. - -The selections terminate with the period of Waterloo, because, while -great leaders have flourished since those days, the historical -perspective is not sufficient to permit that judicial estimate so -necessary for a truly valuable portrait. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE - -THEMISTOCLES AND ARISTIDES. By GEORGE GROTE 1 -(_From the “History of Greece.”_) - -PERICLES. By ERNST CURTIUS 6 -(_From the “History of Greece.”_) - -EPAMINONDAS. By ERNST CURTIUS 10 -(_From the “History of Greece.”_) - -ALEXANDER THE GREAT. By GEORGE GROTE 14 -(_From the “History of Greece.”_) - -HANNIBAL. By THEODOR MOMMSEN 19 -(_From the “History of Rome.”_) - -THE GRACCHI. By PLUTARCH 23 -(_From “Plutarch’s Lives.”_) - -CAIUS MARIUS. By JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE 27 -(_From “Julius Cæsar--A Sketch.”_) - -MITHRIDATES, KING OF PONTUS. By THEODOR MOMMSEN 32 -(_From the “History of Rome.”_) - -LUCIUS SYLLA. By JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE 37 -(_From “Julius Cæsar--A Sketch.”_) - -POMPEY. By THOMAS KERCHEVER ARNOLD 41 -(_From the “History of Rome.”_) - -SERTORIUS. By PLUTARCH 44 -(_From “Plutarch’s Lives.”_) - -JULIUS CÆSAR. By JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE 49 -(_From “Julius Cæsar--A Sketch.”_) - -TRAJAN. By CHARLES MERIVALE 53 -(_From the “History of the Romans under the Empire.”_) - -THE ANTONINES. By EDWARD GIBBON 56 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -ZENOBIA, QUEEN OF PALMYRA. By EDWARD GIBBON 60 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -CONSTANTINE, THE FIRST CHRISTIAN EMPEROR. By EDWARD -GIBBON 65 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -JULIAN THE APOSTATE. By EDWARD GIBBON 70 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -THEODOSIUS THE GREAT. By EDWARD GIBBON 77 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -ATTILA, THE SCOURGE OF GOD. By EDWARD GIBBON 83 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -BELISARIUS. By LORD MAHON 88 -(_From the “Life of Belisarius.”_) - -MOHAMMED, THE FOUNDER OF ISLAM. By EDWARD GIBBON 92 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -CHARLEMAGNE. By Sir JAMES STEPHEN 100 -(_From “Lectures on the History of France.”_) - -ALFRED THE GREAT, OF ENGLAND. By DAVID HUME 107 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -OLAF TRYGGVESON, KING OF NORWAY. By THOMAS CARLYLE 111 -(_From the “Early Kings of Norway.”_) - -CNUT OR CANUTE OF ENGLAND, ALSO KING OF DENMARK. -By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 116 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 120 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -ROBERT GUISCARD. By EDWARD GIBBON 126 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -THOMAS À BECKET, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. By -DAVID HUME 130 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -SALADIN. By EDWARD GIBBON 135 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -HENRY II, KING OF ENGLAND. By DAVID HUME 138 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -GENGHIS OR ZINGIS KHAN. By EDWARD GIBBON 142 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -SIMON DE MONTFORT, EARL OF LEICESTER. By JOHN RICHARD -GREEN 148 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -EDWARD I, KING OF ENGLAND. By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 153 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -ROBERT BRUCE. By Sir ARCHIBALD ALISON 157 -(_From “Essays.”_) - -EDWARD III, KING OF ENGLAND. By DAVID HUME 163 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -RIENZI. By EDWARD GIBBON 167 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -TIMOUR OR TAMERLANE. By EDWARD GIBBON 173 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -JEANNE D’ARC. By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 180 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -MAHOMET OR MOHAMMED II. By EDWARD GIBBON 186 -(_From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”_) - -LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. By JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS 190 -(_From the “Italian Renaissance.”_) - -GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. By JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS 195 -(_From the “Italian Renaissance.”_) - -CÆSAR BORGIA. By CHARLES YRIARTE 201 -(_From “Cæsar Borgia.”_) - -CARDINAL WOLSEY. By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 208 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -FRANCISCO PIZARRO.[1] By WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT 211 -(_From the “Conquest of Peru.”_) - -HERNANDO CORTÉS. By WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT 216 -(_From the “History of the Conquest of Mexico.”_) - -MARTIN LUTHER. By THOMAS CARLYLE 222 -(_From the “Life of Martin Luther.”_) - -IGNATIUS DE LOYOLA (SAINT), FOUNDER OF THE ORDER -OF JESUS. By Sir JAMES STEPHEN 230 -(_From “Stephen’s Essays.”_) - -THOMAS CROMWELL, EARL OF ESSEX. By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 235 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -CHARLES V, EMPEROR OF GERMANY.[2] By JOHN LOTHROP -MOTLEY 240 -(_From the “Rise of the Dutch Republic.”_) - -WILLIAM OF NASSAU, PRINCE OF ORANGE. By JOHN LOTHROP -MOTLEY 248 -(_From the “Rise of the Dutch Republic.”_) - -JOHN KNOX. By JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE 255 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -DUKE OF ALVA. By JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY 259 -(_From the “Rise of the Dutch Republic.”_) - -QUEEN ELIZABETH. By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 265 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -MARY STUART, QUEEN OF SCOTS. By DAVID HUME 275 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -JOHN PYM. By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 280 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -HENRY IV, KING OF FRANCE. By JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY 284 -(_From the “History of the United Netherlands.”_) - -WALLENSTEIN, DUKE OF FRIEDLAND. By FRIEDRICH VON -SCHILLER 291 -(_From the “History of the Thirty Years’ War.”_) - -CARDINAL RICHELIEU. By Sir JAMES STEPHEN 299 -(_From the “Lectures on the History of France.”_) - -GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, KING OF SWEDEN. By FRIEDRICH VON -SCHILLER 303 -(_From the “History of the Thirty Years’ War.”_) - -EARL OF STRAFFORD. By DAVID HUME 310 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -OLIVER CROMWELL. By THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 315 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -LORD HALIFAX. By THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 322 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -LOUIS XIV OF FRANCE. By THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 327 -(_From “Essays.”_) - -WILLIAM III OF ENGLAND. By THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 329 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -PETER THE GREAT, CZAR OF RUSSIA. By THOMAS BABINGTON -MACAULAY 339 -(_From the “History of England.”_) - -DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. By WILLIAM E. H. LECKY 344 -(_From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”_) - -SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. By WILLIAM E. H. LECKY 351 -(_From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”_) - -FREDERICK THE GREAT. By THOMAS CARLYLE 357 -(_From the “Life of Frederick the Great.”_) - -WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM. By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 364 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -EDMUND BURKE. By WILLIAM E. H. LECKY 369 -(_From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”_) - -GEORGE WASHINGTON. By WILLIAM E. H. LECKY 378 -(_From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”_) - -MIRABEAU. By THOMAS CARLYLE 384 -(_From Carlyle’s “Essays.”_) - -CHARLES JAMES FOX. By WILLIAM E. H. LECKY 389 -(_From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”_) - -JEAN PAUL MARAT. By HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE 396 -(_From the “French Revolution.”_) - -PRINCE TALLEYRAND. By ARCHIBALD ALISON 400 -(_From the “History of Europe.”_) - -GEORGE JACQUES DANTON. By HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE 405 -(_From the “French Revolution.”_) - -ROBESPIERRE. By HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE 410 -(_From the “French Revolution.”_) - -WILLIAM PITT THE YOUNGER. By JOHN RICHARD GREEN 417 -(_From the “Short History of the English People.”_) - -NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. By LOUIS ADOLPHE THIERS 423 -(_From the “History of the Consulate and Empire.”_) - -DUKE OF WELLINGTON. By ARCHIBALD ALISON 432 -(_From the “History of Europe.”_) - - - - -LIST OF ENGRAVED PORTRAITS. - - FACE PAGE - -PERICLES 6 -(_From antique bust, copy in the British Museum._) - -ALEXANDER THE GREAT 14 -(_From antique bust._) - -HANNIBAL 20 -(_From antique gem._) - -JULIUS CÆSAR 49 -(_From antique statue, Rome._) - -MOHAMMED 92 -(_From old print, likeness traditional._) - -CHARLEMAGNE 100 -(_From old line engraving._) - -ALFRED THE GREAT 107 -(_From old line engraving._) - -WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR 120 -(_Copy of painting from an ancient effigy._) - -MARTIN LUTHER 222 -(_From painting by Cranach._) - -IGNATIUS DE LOYOLA 230 -(_From portrait by Rubens._) - -CHARLES V. 240 -(_From portrait by Titian._) - -WILLIAM OF NASSAU 248 - -RICHELIEU 299 -(_From line engraving by Nanteuil._) - -OLIVER CROMWELL 315 - -PETER THE GREAT 339 -(_From line engraving by Petrus Anderloni._) - -FREDERICK THE GREAT 357 - - - - -GREAT LEADERS. - - - - -THEMISTOCLES AND ARISTIDES. - -BY GEORGE GROTE. - - [Athenian statesmen and soldiers, the first named born 514 B.C., - died about 449; the second, surnamed “the Just,” died about 468 - B.C., date of birth unknown. During the Persian invasions of - Greece, Themistocles was the most brilliant figure among the Greek - leaders; his genius was omnipresent, his resources boundless. He - created the maritime supremacy of Athens, and through him the great - victory of Salamis was won. His political ascendency was finally - lost through the distrust created by his unscrupulous and facile - character, and he died an exile in Persia, intriguing against his - native land. Aristides, less brilliant than his rival, was famous - for the stainless integrity and uprightness of his public life, and - his name has passed into history as the symbol of unswerving truth - and justice. He also contributed largely to the successful - leadership of the Hellenic forces against their Asiatic invaders. - References: Plutarch’s “Lives,” Grote’s “History of Greece,” - Curtius’s “History of Greece.”] - - -Neither Themistocles nor Aristides could boast of a lineage of gods and -heroes like the Æacid Miltiades;[3] both were of middling station and -circumstances. Aristides, son of Lysimachus, was on both sides of pure -Athenian blood. But the wife of Neocles, father of Themistocles, was a -foreign woman of Thrace or Caria; and such an alliance is the less -surprising since Themistocles must have been born in the time of the -Peisistratids,[4] when the status of an Athenian citizen had not yet -acquired its political value. There was a marked contrast between these -two eminent men--those points which stood most conspicuous in one being -comparatively deficient in the other. - -In the description of Themistocles, which we have the advantage of -finding briefly sketched by Thucydides, the circumstance most -emphatically brought out is his immense force of spontaneous invention -and apprehension, without any previous aid either from teaching or -actual practice. The might of unassisted nature was never so strikingly -exhibited as in him; he conceived the complications of a present -embarrassment and divined the chances of a mysterious future with equal -sagacity and equal quickness. The right expedient seemed to flash on his -mind _extempore_, even in the most perplexing contingencies, without the -least necessity for premeditation. - -Nor was he less distinguished for daring and resource in action. When -engaged on any joint affairs his superior competence marked him out as -the leader for others to follow; and no business, however foreign to his -experience, ever took him by surprise or came wholly amiss to him. Such -is the remarkable picture which Thucydides draws of a countryman whose -death nearly coincided in time with his own birth. The untutored -readiness and universality of Themistocles probably formed in his mind a -contrast to the more elaborate discipline and careful preliminary study -with which the statesmen of his own day--and Pericles specially the -greatest of them--approached the consideration and discussion of public -affairs. Themistocles had received no teaching from philosophers, -sophists, and rhetors, who were the instructors of well-born youth in -the days of Thucydides, and whom Aristophanes, the contemporary of the -latter, so unmercifully derides--treating such instruction as worse than -nothing, and extolling in comparison with it the unlettered courage, the -more gymnastic accomplishments of the victors at Marathon. - -The general character given in Plutarch, though many of his anecdotes -are both trifling and apocryphal, is quite consistent with the brief -sketch just cited from Thucydides. Themistocles had an unbounded -passion, not merely for glory--insomuch as the laurels of Miltiades -acquired at Marathon deprived him of rest--but also for display of every -kind. He was eager to vie with men richer than himself in showy -exhibition--one great source, though not the only source of popularity -at Athens; nor was he at all scrupulous in procuring the means of doing -it. Besides being scrupulous in attendance on the ecclesia and -dicastery, he knew most of the citizens by name, and was always ready -for advice to them in their private affairs. Moreover, he possessed all -the tactics of the expert party-man in conciliating political friends -and in defeating personal enemies; and though in the early part of his -life sincerely bent upon the upholding and aggrandizement of his -country, and was on some most critical occasions of unspeakable value to -it, yet on the whole his morality was as reckless as his intelligence -was eminent. - -He was grossly corrupt in the exercise of power and employing tortuous -means, sometimes, indeed, for ends in themselves honorable and -patriotic, but sometimes also merely for enriching himself. He ended a -glorious life by years of deep disgrace, with the forfeiture of all -Hellenic esteem and brotherhood--a rich man, an exile, a traitor, and a -pensioner of the Great King, pledged to undo his own previous work of -liberation accomplished at the victory of Salamis. - -Of Aristides, unfortunately, we possess no description from the hand of -Thucydides; yet his character is so simple and consistent that we may -safely accept the brief but unqualified encomium of Herodotus and -Plato, expanded as it is in the biography of Plutarch and Cornelius -Nepos, however little the details of the latter can be trusted. -Aristides was inferior to Themistocles in resource, quickness, -flexibility, and power of coping with difficulties; but incomparably -superior to him--as well as to other rivals and contemporaries--in -integrity, public as well as private; inaccessible to pecuniary -temptation as well as to other seductive influences, and deserving as -well as enjoying the highest measure of personal confidence. - -He is described as the peculiar friend of Clisthenes, the first founder -of the democracy; as pursuing a straight and single-handed course in -political life, with no solicitude for party-ties, and with little care -either to conciliate friends or to offend enemies; as unflinching in the -exposure of corrupt practices by whomsoever committed or upheld; as -earning for himself the lofty surname of the Just, not less by his -judicial decisions in the capacity of archon, than by his equity in -private arbitrations, and even his candor in public dispute; and as -manifesting throughout a long public life, full of tempting -opportunities, an uprightness without a flaw and beyond all suspicion, -recognized equally by his bitter contemporary the poet Timocreon, and by -the allies of Athens, upon whom he first assessed the tribute. - -Few of the leading men in any part of Greece were without some taint on -their reputation, deserved or undeserved, in regard to pecuniary -probity; but whoever became notoriously recognized as possessing this -vital quality, acquired by means of it a firmer hold on the public -esteem than even eminent talents could confer. Thucydides ranks -conspicuous probity among the first of the many ascendant qualities -possessed by Pericles; and Nicias, equal to him in this respect, though -immeasurably inferior in every other, owed to it a still larger -proportion of that exaggerated confidence which the Athenian people -continued so long to repose in him. - -The abilities of Aristides, though apparently adequate to every occasion -on which he was engaged, and only inferior when we compare him with so -remarkable a man as Thucydides, were put in the shade by this -incorruptible probity, which procured for him, however, along with the -general esteem, no inconsiderable amount of private enmity from jobbers, -whom he exposed, and even some jealousy from persons who heard it -proclaimed with offensive ostentation. - -We are told that a rustic and unlettered citizen gave his ostracizing -vote and expressed his dislike against Aristides on the simple ground -that he was tired of hearing him always called the Just. Now the purity -of the most honorable man will not bear to be so boastfully talked of, -as if he were the only honorable man in the country; the less it is -obtruded the more deeply and cordially will it be felt; and the story -just alluded to, whether true or false, illustrates that natural -reaction of feeling produced by absurd encomiasts or perhaps by -insidious enemies under the mask of encomiasts, who trumpeted for -Aristides as the _Just_ man at Attica so as to wound the legitimate -dignity of every one else. - -Neither indiscreet friends nor artful enemies, however, could rob him of -the lasting esteem of his countrymen, which he enjoyed with intervals of -their displeasure to the end of his life. Though he was ostracized -during a part of the period between the battles of Marathon and -Salamis--at a time when the rivalry between him and Themistocles was so -violent that both could not remain at Athens without peril--yet the -dangers of Athens during the invasion of Xerxes brought him back before -the ten years of exile were expired. His fortune, originally very -moderate, was still further diminished during the course of his life, so -that he died very poor, and the state was obliged to lend aid to his -children. - - - - -PERICLES. - -BY ERNST CURTIUS. - - [A distinguished statesman, who built up and consolidated the power - of Athens immediately after the Persian wars, born 495 B.C., died - 429. His career was contemporaneous with the highest glory of - Athens in art, arms, literature, and oratory. As an orator Pericles - was second only to Demosthenes, as a statesman second to none. - References: Grote’s “History of Greece,” Curtius’s “History of - Greece,” Plutarch’s “Lives,” Bulwer’s “Athens.”] - - -Aspasia came to Athens when everything new and extraordinary, everything -which appeared to be an enlargement of ancient usage, a step forward and -a new acquisition, was joyously welcomed. Nor was it long before it was -recognized that she enchanted the souls of men by no mere arts of -deception of which she had learned the trick. Hers was a lofty and -richly endowed nature with a perfect sense of all that is beautiful, and -hers a harmonious and felicitous development. For the first time the -treasures of Hellenic culture were found in the possession of a woman -surrounded by the graces of her womanhood--a phenomenon which all men -looked on with eyes of wonder. She was able to converse with -irresistible grace on politics, philosophy, and art, so that the most -serious Athenians--even such men as Socrates--sought her out in order to -listen to her conversation. - -But her real importance for Athens began on the day when she made the -acquaintance of Pericles, and formed with him a connection of mutual -love. It was a real marriage, which only lacked the civil sanction -because she was a foreigner; it was an alliance of the truest and -tenderest affection which death alone dissolved--the endless source of a -domestic felicity which no man needed more than the statesman, who lived -retired from all external recreations and was unceasingly engaged in the -labors of his life. - -Doubtless the possession of this woman was in many respects invaluable -for Pericles. Not only were her accomplishments the delights of the -leisure hours which he allowed himself and the recreation of his mind -from its cares, but she also kept him in intercourse with the daily life -around him. She possessed what he lacked--the power of being perfectly -at ease in every kind of society; she kept herself informed of -everything that took place in the city; nor can distant countries have -escaped her attention, since she is said to have first acquainted -Pericles with Sicilian oratory, which was at that time developing -itself. - -She was of use to him through her various connections at home and abroad -as well as by the keen glance of her feminine sagacity and by her -knowledge of men. Thus the foremost woman of her age lived in the -society of the man whose superiority of mind had placed him at the head -of the first city of the Hellenes, in loyal devotion to her friend and -husband; and although the mocking spirits at Athens eagerly sought out -every blemish which could be discovered in the life of Pericles, yet no -calumny was ever able to vilify this rare union and to blacken its -memory. - -Pericles had no leisure for occupying himself with the management of his -private property. He farmed out his lands and intrusted the money to his -faithful slave Evangelus, who accurately knew the measure which his -master deemed the right one, and managed the household accordingly; -which, indeed, presented a striking contrast to those of the wealthy -families of Athens, and ill corresponded to the tastes of Pericles’s -sons as they grew up. For in it there was no overflow, no joyous and -reckless expenditure, but so careful an economy that everything was -calculated down to drachm and obolus. - -Pericles was perfectly convinced that nothing short of a perfectly -blameless integrity and the severest self-abnegation could render -possible the permanency of his influence over his fellow-citizens and -prevent the exposure of even the smallest blot to his cavilers and -enemies. After Themistocles had for the first time shown how a statesman -and general might enrich himself, Pericles was in this respect the -admirer and most faithful follower of Aristides, and in the matter of -conscientiousness went even much further than Cimon, spurning on -principle every opportunity offered by the office of general for a -perfectly justifiable personal enrichment. - -All attempts to bribe him remained useless. His lofty sentiments are -evidenced by the remark which he addressed to Sophocles, who fell in -love even in his old age: “Not only the hands, but the eyes also of a -general should practice continence.” The more vivid the appreciation he -felt for female charms the more highly must we esteem the equanimity to -which he had attained by means of a self-command which had become a -matter of habit with him; nor did anything make so powerful an -impression upon the changeable Athenians as the immovable calm of this -great man. - -Pericles was neither a lengthy nor a frequent speaker. He avoided -nothing more scrupulously than superfluous words, and therefore as often -as he appeared before the people he prayed to Zeus to guard him from -useless words. But the brief words which he actually spoke made a -proportionately deep impression upon the citizens. His conception of his -calling was too solemn and lofty to permit him to consent to talk as the -multitude liked. He was not afraid when he found the citizens weak and -irresolute to express to them bitter truths and serious blame. - -His speeches always endeavored to place every case in connection with -facts of a more general kind, so as to instruct and elevate the minds of -the citizens; he never grew weary of pointing out how no individual -happiness was conceivable from the welfare of the entire body; he proved -to the citizens the claim which he had established upon their -confidence; he clearly and concisely developed his political views, -endeavoring not to talk over his hearers, but to convince them; and when -the feeling of his own superiority was about to tempt him to despise the -multitude, he admonished himself to be patient and long suffering. “Take -heed, Pericles,” he cried to himself, “those whom thou rulest are -Hellenes, citizens of Athens.” - -The principles of the statesmanship of Pericles were so simple that all -citizens were perfectly capable of understanding them; and he attached a -particular value to the idea that the Athenians instead of, like the -Lacedæmonians, seeking their strength in an affectation of secrecy, were -unwilling to overcome their enemies by deception and cunning stratagems. -As the Persian war had seemed inevitable to Themistocles, so the -struggle with Sparta loomed as certain before the eyes of Pericles. The -term of peace allowed before its outbreak had accordingly to be employed -by Athens in preparing herself for the struggle awaiting her forces. -When at last the critical hour arrived Athens was to stand before her -assailants firm and invincible, with her walls for a shield and her navy -for a sword. - -The long schooling through which Pericles had passed in the art of war -and the rare combination of caution and energy which he had displayed in -every command held by him had secured him the confidence of the -citizens. Therefore they for a succession of years elected him general, -and as such invested him with an extraordinary authority, which reduced -the offices of the other nine generals to mere posts of honor which were -filled by persons agreeable to him. During the period of his -administration the whole centers of gravity of public life lay in this -office. - -Inasmuch as Pericles, besides the authority of a “strategy” prolonged to -him in an extraordinary degree, also filled the office of superintendent -of the finances; inasmuch as he was repeatedly and for long periods of -years superintendent of public works; inasmuch as his personal influence -was so great that he could in all important matters determine the civic -elections according to his wish; it is easy to understand how he ruled -the state in time of war and peace, and how the power of both the -council and of the whole civic body in all essentials passed into his -hands. - -He was the type of temperance and sobriety. He made it a rule never to -assist at a festive banquet; and no Athenian could remember to have seen -Pericles, since he stood at the head of the state, in the company of -friends over the wine-cup. He was known to no man except as one serious -and collected, full of grave thoughts and affairs. His whole life was -devoted to the service of the state, and his power accompanied by so -thorough a self-denial and so full a measure of labor that the multitude -in its love of enjoyment could surely not regard the possession of that -power as an enviable privilege. For him there existed only one road, -which he was daily seen to take, the road leading from his house to the -market-place and the council-hall, the seat of the government, where the -current business of state was transacted. - - - - -EPAMINONDAS. - -BY ERNST CURTIUS. - - [The greatest of the Theban generals and statesmen, and one of the - greatest men of antiquity; born about 418 B.C., killed on the - battle-field of Mantinea in the hour of victory, 362. He raised - Thebes from a subordinate place to the leadership of Greece by his - genius in arms and wisdom in council. Eminent as soldier, - statesman, and orator, Epaminondas was a model of virtue in his - private life, and was not only devoted to his native republic, but - in the largest sense a Greek patriot. References: Grote’s “History - of Greece,” Curtius’s “History of Greece,” Plutarch’s “Lives.”] - - -It would be difficult to find in the entire course of Greek history any -two statesmen who, in spite of differences in character and outward -conditions of life, resembled one another so greatly and were as men so -truly the peers of one another as Pericles and Epaminondas. In the case -of both these men the chief foundation of their authority was their -lofty and varied mental culture; what secured to them their intellectual -superiority was the love of knowledge which pervaded and ennobled the -whole being of either. Epaminondas like Pericles directs his native city -as the man in whom the civic community places supreme confidence, and -whom it therefore re-elects from year to year as general. Like Pericles, -Epaminondas left no successor behind him, and his death was also the -close of an historical epoch. - -Epaminondas stood alone from the first; and while Pericles with all his -superiority yet stood essentially on the basis of Attic culture, -Epaminondas, on the other hand, was, so to speak, a stranger in his -native city. Nor was it ever his intention to be a Theban in the sense -in which Pericles was an Athenian. The object of his life was rather to -be a perfect Hellene, while his efforts as a statesman were likewise -simply an endeavor to introduce his fellow-citizens to that true -Hellenism which consisted in civic virtue and in love of wisdom. - -In the very last hour of his life, when he was delighted by the -preservation of his shield, he showed himself a genuine Hellene; thus -again it was a genuinely Greek standpoint from which he viewed the war -against Sparta and Athens as a competitive contest for the honor of the -hegemony in Hellas, an honor which could only be justly won by mental -and moral superiority. The conflict was inevitable; it had become a -national duty, because the supremacy of Sparta had become a tyranny -dishonorable to the Hellenic nation. After Epaminondas liberated the -Greek cities from the Spartan yoke it became the object of his Bœotian -patriotism to make his own native city worthy and capable of assuming -the direction. - -How far Epaminondas might have succeeded in securing a permanent -hegemony[5] over Greek affairs to the Thebans who shall attempt to -judge? He fell in the full vigor of his manhood on the battle-field -where the states, which withstood his policy, had brought their last -resources to bear. Of all statesmen, therefore, he is least to be judged -by the actual results of his policy. His greatness lies in this--that -from his childhood he incessantly endeavored to be to his -fellow-citizens a model of Hellenic virtue. Chaste and unselfish he -passed, ever true to himself, through a most active life, through all -the temptations of the most unexampled success in war, through the whole -series of trials and disasters. - -Epaminondas was not merely the founder of a military organization. He -equally proved the inventiveness of his mind in contriving to obtain for -his country, which was wealthy neither by trade nor manufactures, -pecuniary resources sufficient for maintaining a land-army and a -war-navy commensurate with the needs of a great power. He made himself -master of all the productive ideas of earlier state administrations; and -in particular the Athenians naturally stood before his eyes as models -and predecessors. - -On the one hand, he turned to account for his native city the -improvements made in arms and tactics, which were due to Xenophon, -Chabrias, and Iphicrates; on the other, the example of the Athenians -taught him that the question of the hegemony over Greece could only be -settled by sea. Finally, Epaminondas, more than any other Greek -statesman, followed in the footsteps of Periclean Athens in regarding -the public fostering of art and science as a main duty of that state -which desired to claim a position of primacy. - -Personally he did his utmost to domesticate philosophy at Thebes, not -only as intellectual discourse carried on in select circles, but as the -power of higher knowledge which elevates and purifies the people. Public -oratory found a home at Thebes, together with the free constitution; and -not only did Epaminondas personally prove himself fully the equal of the -foremost orators in Athens--of Callistratus in particular--in power of -speech and in felicitous readiness of mind, but, as the embassy at Susa -shows, his friends too learned in a surprisingly short time to assert -the interests of Thebes by the side of the other states, which had long -kept up foreign relations with vigor, skill, and dignity. - -In every department there were perceptible intellectual mobility and -vigorously sustained effort. Of the fine arts painting received a -specially successful development, distinguished by a thoughtful and -clear treatment of intellectual ideas. Of the architecture of this -period honorable evidence is to this day given by the well-preserved -remains of the fortifications of Messene, constructed under the -direction of Epaminondas--typical specimens of architecture constructed -in the grandest style. Plastic art likewise found a home at Thebes. It -was the endeavor of Epaminondas--although with prudent moderation--to -transfer the splendor of Periclean Athens to Thebes. - -Through Epaminondas Thebes was raised to an equality with the city of -the Athenians, as a seat of a policy aiming at freedom and national -greatness. It thus became possible for the two cities to join hands in -the subsequent struggle for the independence of Greece. And, in this -sense, Epaminondas worked beforehand for the objects of Demosthenes. If -it is considered how, with his small resources, Epaminondas founded or -helped to found Mantinea, Messene, and Megalopolis; how through him -other places, such as Corone and Heraclea, likewise received Theban -settlers--the honor will not be denied him of having been in the royal -art of the foundation of cities the predecessor of Alexander and his -successors. - -But he was also their predecessor in another point. By spreading Greek -manners and ways of life he enlarged the narrow boundaries of the land -of the Greeks, and introduced the peoples of the North into the sphere -of Greek history. In his own person he represented the ideas of a -general Hellenic character, which, unconditioned by local accidents, was -freely raised aloft above the distinction of states and tribes. Hitherto -only great statesmen had appeared who were great Athenians or Spartans. -In Epaminondas this local coloring is of quite inferior importance; he -was a Hellene first, and a Theban only in the second place. Thus he -prepared the standpoint from which to be a Hellene was regarded as an -intellectual privilege, independent of the locality of birth; and this -is the standpoint of Hellenism. - - - - -ALEXANDER THE GREAT. - -BY GEORGE GROTE. - - [Son of Philip, King of Macedon, born 356 B.C., died 323. The - greatest of the world’s conquerors in the extent and rapidity of - his conquests, he began with the consolidation of his father’s - conquests over the republics of Greece, overthrew the great Persian - Empire, and carried his arms to farther India, within a period of - thirteen years. At his death his dominions were divided among his - principal generals. References: Grote’s “History of Greece,” - Curtius’s “History of Greece,” Plutarch’s “Lives.”] - - -The first growth and development of Macedonia during the twenty-two -years preceding the battle of Chæronea, from an embarrassed secondary -state into the first of all known powers, had excited the astonishment -of contemporaries and admiration for Philip’s organizing genius; but the -achievements of Alexander during the twelve years of his reign, throwing -Philip into the shade, had been on a - -[Illustration: ALEXANDER THE GREAT.] - -scale so much grander and vaster, and so completely without serious -reverse or even interruption, as to transcend the measure, not only of -human expectation, but almost of human belief. All antecedent human -parallels--the ruin and captivity of the Lydian Crœsus, the expulsion -and mean life of the Syracusan Dionysius, both of them impressive -examples of the mutability of human condition--sunk into trifles -compared with the overthrow of the towering Persian Colossus. - -Such were the sentiments excited by Alexander’s career even in the -middle of 330 B.C., more than seven years before his death. During the -following seven years his additional achievements had carried -astonishment yet further. He had mastered, in defiance of fatigue, -hardship, and combat, not merely all the eastern half of the Persian -Empire, but unknown Indian regions beyond its easternmost limits. -Besides Macedonia, Greece, and Thrace, he possessed all that immense -treasure and military force which had once made the Great King so -formidable. By no contemporary man had any such power ever been known or -conceived. With the turn of imagination then prevalent, many were -doubtless disposed to take him for a god on earth, as Grecian spectators -had once supposed with regard to Xerxes, when they beheld the -innumerable Persian host crossing the Hellespont. - -Exalted to this prodigious grandeur, Alexander was at the time of his -death little more than thirty-two years old--the age at which a citizen -of Athens was growing into important commands; ten years less than the -age for a consul at Rome; two years younger than the age at which Timour -first acquired the crown and began his foreign conquests. His -extraordinary bodily powers were unabated; he had acquired a large stock -of military experience; and, what was still more important, his appetite -for further conquest was as voracious, and his readiness to purchase it -at the largest cost of toil or danger as complete as it had been when -he first crossed the Hellespont. Great as his past career had been, his -future achievements with such increased means and experience were likely -to be yet greater. His ambition would have been satisfied with nothing -less than the conquest of the whole habitable world as then known; and, -if his life had been prolonged, he probably would have accomplished it. - -The patriotic feelings of Livy dispose him to maintain that Alexander, -had he invaded Italy and assailed Romans and Samnites, would have failed -and perished like his relative Alexander of Epirus. But this conclusion -can not be accepted. If we grant the courage and discipline of the Roman -infantry to have been equal to the best infantry of Alexander’s army, -the same can not be said of the Roman cavalry as compared with the -Macedonian companions. Still less is it likely that a Roman consul, -annually changed, would have been a match for Alexander in military -genius and combination; nor, even if personally equal, would he have -possessed the same variety of troops and arms, each effective in its -separate way, and all conspiring to one common purpose; nor, the same -unbounded influence over their minds in stimulating them to full effort. - -Among all the qualities which go to constitute the highest military -excellence, either as a general or as a soldier, none was wanting in the -character of Alexander. Together with his own chivalrous -courage--sometimes, indeed, both excessive and unseasonable, so as to -form the only military defect which can be fairly imputed to him--we -trace in all his operations the most careful dispositions taken -beforehand, vigilant precaution in guarding against possible reverse, -and abundant resource in adapting himself to new contingencies. His -achievements are the earliest recorded evidence of scientific military -organization on a large scale, and of its overwhelming effects. - -Alexander overawes the imagination more than any other personage of -antiquity by the matchless development of all that constitutes -effective force--as an individual warrior and as organizer and leader of -armed masses; not merely the blind impetuosity ascribed by Homer to -Ares, but also the intelligent, methodized, and all-subduing compression -which he personifies in Athene. But all his great qualities were fit for -use only against enemies, in which category, indeed, were numbered all -mankind, known and unknown, except those who chose to submit to him. In -his Indian campaigns amid tribes of utter strangers, we perceive that -not only those who stand on their defense, but also those who abandon -their property and flee to the mountains are alike pursued and -slaughtered. - -Apart from the transcendent merits of Alexander as a general, some -authors give him credit for grand and beneficent views on the subject of -imperial government and for intentions highly favorable to the -improvement of mankind. I see no ground for adopting this opinion. As -far as we can venture to anticipate what would have been Alexander’s -future, we see nothing in prospect except years of ever repeated -aggression and conquest, not to be concluded till he had traversed and -subjugated all the inhabited globe. The acquisition of universal -dominion--conceived not metaphorically but literally, and conceived with -greater facility in consequence of the imperfect geographical knowledge -of the time--was the master-passion of his soul. - -“You are a man like all of us, Alexander, except that you abandon your -home,” said the naked Indian to him, “like a medlesome destroyer, to -invade the most distant regions; enduring hardship yourself and -inflicting hardship on others.” Now, how an empire thus boundless and -heterogeneous, such as no prince as has yet ever realized, could have -been administered with any superior advantages to subjects, it would be -difficult to show. The mere task of acquiring and maintaining, of -keeping satraps and tribute-gatherers in authority as well as in -subordination, of suppressing resistances ever liable to recur in -regions distant by months of march, would occupy the whole life of a -world conquerer, without leaving any leisure for the improvements suited -to peace and stability--if we give him credit for such purposes in -theory. - -In respect of intelligence and combining genius, Alexander was Hellenic -to the full; in respect of disposition and purpose, no one could be less -Hellenic. The acts attesting his Oriental violence of impulse, -unmeasured self-will, and exaction of reverence above the limits of -humanity, have been recounted. To describe him as a son of Hellas, -imbued with the political maxims of Aristotle, and bent on the -systematic diffusion of Hellenic culture for the improvement of mankind -is in my judgement an estimate of his character contrary to the -evidence. - -Alexander is indeed said to have invited suggestions from Aristotle as -to the best mode of colonizing; but his temper altered so much after a -few years of Asiatic conquest, that he came not only to lose all -deference for Aristotle’s advice, but even to hate him bitterly. Instead -of “Hellenizing” Asia, he was tending to “Asiatize” Macedonia and -Hellas. His temper and character as modified by a few years of conquest -rendered him quite unfit to follow the course recommended by Aristotle -toward the Greeks--quite as unfit as any of the Persian kings, or as the -French Emperor Napoleon, to endure that partial frustration, compromise, -and smart from personal criticism, which is inseparable from the -position of a limited chief. - -Plutarch states that Alexander founded more than seventy new cities in -Asia. So large a number of them is neither verifiable nor probable, -unless we either reckon up simple military posts or borrow from the list -of foundations established by his successors. Except Alexandria in -Egypt, none of the cities founded by Alexander himself can be shown to -have attained any great development. The process of “Hellenizing” Asia, -in as far as Asia was ever “Hellenized,” which has so often been -ascribed to Alexander, was in reality the work of the successors to his -great dominion. - -We read that Alexander felt so much interest in the extension of science -that he gave to Aristotle the immense sum of eight hundred talents in -money, placing under his direction several thousand men, for the purpose -of prosecuting zoölogical researches. These exaggerations are probably -the work of those enemies of the philosopher who decried him as a -pensioner of the Macedonian court; but it is probable enough that -Philip, and Alexander in the earlier part of his reign, may have helped -Aristotle in the difficult process of getting together facts and -specimens for observation from esteem toward him personally rather than -from interest in his discoveries. - -The intellectual turn of Alexander was toward literature, poetry, and -history. He was fond of the “Iliad” especially, as well as of the Attic -tragedians; so that Harpalus, being directed to send some books to him -in Upper Asia, selected as the most acceptable packet various tragedies -of Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, with the dithyrambic poems of -Telestes and the histories of Philistus. - - - - -HANNIBAL. - -BY THEODOR MOMMSEN. - - [A Carthaginian statesman and soldier, one of the foremost generals - of antiquity, born 247 B.C., died 183. The series of Italian - campaigns in which he imperiled the very existence of Rome are - commented on by modern military critics as models of brilliancy and - daring, combined with far-sighted prudence. Finally compelled to - evacuate Italy, he was defeated and his army destroyed by Publius - Cornelius Scipio, afterward surnamed Africanus, at the battle of - Zama in Africa in 202. Exiled from Carthage, he spent the latter - years of his life in fomenting war against Rome among the Eastern - nations, and finally committed suicide to prevent being delivered - over to the hands of Rome. References: Mommsen’s “History of - Rome,” Plutarch’s “Lives.”] - - -When Hamilcar departed to take command in Spain, he enjoined his son -Hannibal, nine years of age, to swear at the altar of the Supreme God -eternal hatred to the Roman name, and reared him and his younger sons, -Hasdrubal and Mago--the “lion’s brood,” as he called them--in the camp, -as the inheritors of his projects, of his genius, and of his hatred. - -The man whose head and heart had in a desperate emergency and amid a -despairing people paved the way for their deliverance, was no more when -it became possible to carry out his design. Whether his successor -Hasdrubal forbore to make the attack because the proper moment seemed to -him not yet to have arrived, or whether, a statesman rather than a -general, he believed himself unequal to the conduct of the enterprise, -we are unable to determine. When, at the beginning of 219 B.C., he fell -by the hand of an assassin, the Carthaginian officers of the Spanish -army summoned to fill his place Hannibal, the eldest son of Hamilcar. - -He was still a young man, born in 247 B.C., and now, therefore, in his -twenty-ninth year; but his life had already been fraught with varied -experience. His first recollections picture to him his father fighting -in a distant land and conquering on Ercte; he shared that unconquered -father’s fortunes and sympathized with his feelings on the peace of -Catulus, on the bitter return home, and throughout the horrors of the -Libyan war. While still a boy he had followed his father to the camp, -and he soon distinguished himself. - -His light and firmly built frame made him an excellent runner and boxer -and a fearless rider; the privation of sleep did not affect him, and he -knew like a soldier how to enjoy or to want his food. Although his youth -had been spent in - -[Illustration: HANNIBAL.] - -the camp, he possessed such culture as was bestowed on the noble -Phœnicians of the time; in Greek, apparently after he had become a -general, he made such progress under the guidance of his intimate friend -Sasilus of Sparta as to be able to compose state papers in that -language. - -As he grew up, he entered the army of his father to perform his first -feats of arms under the paternal eye, and to see him fall in battle by -his side. Thereafter he had commanded the cavalry under his sister’s -husband Hasdrubal and distinguished himself by brilliant personal -bravery as well as by his talents as a leader. The voice of his comrades -now summoned him--their tried and youthful leader--to the chief command, -and he could now execute the designs for which his father and his -brother-in-law had died. - -He took possession of the inheritance, and was worthy of it. His -contemporaries tried to cast stains of all sorts on his character; the -Romans charged him with cruelty, the Carthaginians with covetousness; -and it is true that he hated as only Oriental natures know how to hate, -and that a general who never fell short of money and stores can hardly -have been other than covetous. Nevertheless, though anger and envy and -meanness have written his history, they have not been able to mar the -pure and noble image which it presents. - -Laying aside wretched inventions which furnished their own refutation, -and some things which his lieutenants Hannibal Monomachus, and Mago the -Samnite, were guilty of doing in his name, nothing occurs in the -accounts regarding him which may not be justified in the circumstances -and by the international law of the times; and all agree in this--that -he combined in rare perfection discretion and enthusiasm, caution and -energy. - -He was peculiarly marked by that inventive craftiness which forms one of -the leading traits of the Phœnician character--he was fond of taking -singular and unexpected routes; ambushes and strategems of all sorts -were familiar to him; and he studied the character of his antagonists -with unprecedented care. By an unrivaled system of espionage--he had -regular spies even in Rome--he kept himself informed of the projects of -the enemy; he himself was frequently seen wearing disguises and false -hair in order to procure information on some point or another. - -Every page of history attests his genius as a general; and his gifts as -a statesman were, after the peace with Rome, no less conspicuously -displayed in his reform of the Carthaginian constitution and in the -unparalleled influence which as an exiled strength he exercised in the -cabinets of the Eastern powers. The power which he wielded over men is -shown by his incomparable control over an army of various nations and -many tongues--an army which never in the worst times mutinied against -him. He was a great man; wherever he went he riveted the eyes of all. - -Hannibal’s cautious and masterly execution of his plan of crossing the -Alps into Italy, instead of transporting his army by sea, in its -details, at all events, deserves our admiration, and, to whatever causes -the result may have been due--whether it was due mainly to the favor of -fortune or mainly to the skill of the general--the grand idea of -Hamilcar, that of taking up the conflict with Rome in Italy, was now -realized. It was his genius that projected the expedition; and the -unerring tact of historical tradition has always dwelt on the last link -in the great chain of preparatory steps, the passage of the Alps, with a -greater admiration than on the battles of the Trasimene Lake and of the -plain of Cannæ. - -Hannibal knew Rome better, perhaps, than the Romans knew it themselves. -It was clearly apparent that the Italian federation was in political -solidity and in military resources far superior to an adversary who -received only precarious and irregular support from home; and that the -Phœnician foot-soldier was, notwithstanding all the pains taken by -Hannibal, far inferior in point of tactics to the legionary, had been -completely proved by the defensive movements of Scipio. From these -convictions flowed two fundamental principles which determined -Hannibal’s whole method of operations in Italy, viz., that the war -should be carried on somewhat adventurously, with constant changes in -the plan and in the theatre of operations; and that its favorable issue -could only be looked for as the result of political and not of military -successes--of the gradual loosening and breaking up of the Italian -federation. - -This aim was the aim dictated to him by right policy, because mighty -conqueror though he was in battle, he saw very clearly that on each -occasion he vanquished the generals but not the city, and that after -each new battle, the Romans remained as superior to the Carthaginians as -he was personally superior to the Roman commanders. That Hannibal, even -at the height of his fortune, never deceived himself on this point is a -fact more wonderful than his wonderful battles. - - - - -THE GRACCHI. - -BY PLUTARCH. - - [Tiberius Sempronius and Caius Sempronius, sons of Tiberius - Gracchus by Cornelia, daughter of Scipio Africanus, the conqueror - of Hannibal and Carthage. The first, born 168 B.C., died in 133; - the second, born about 159 B.C., died in 121. The brothers, though - on both sides of the highest patrician rank and descent, espoused - the democratic cause. Both rose to the rank of tribune. Tiberius - carried through an agrarian law dividing the surplus lands of the - republic among the poor, and was killed in a popular _emeute_. - Caius caused to be passed a poor-law giving monthly distributions - of corn. He also transferred the judicial power largely to the - equites or knights, and proposed to extend the Roman franchise to - all Italy. He committed suicide to save himself from assassination. - References: Arnold’s “History of Rome” and Mommsen’s “History of - Rome.”] - - -Cornelia, taking upon herself the care of the household and the -education of her children, approved herself so discreet a matron, so -affectionate a mother, and so constant and noble-spirited a woman, that -Tiberius seemed to all men to have done nothing unreasonable in choosing -to die for such a woman, who, when King Ptolemy himself proffered her -his crown and would have married her, refused it and chose rather to -live a widow. In this state she continued and lost all her children, -except one daughter, who was married to Scipio the younger, and two -sons, Tiberius and Caius. - -These she brought up with such care, that though they were without -dispute in natural endowments and disposition the first among the Romans -of their day, yet they seemed to owe their virtues even more to their -education than to their birth. And, as in the statues and pictures made -of Castor and Pollux, though the brothers resemble one another, yet -there is a difference to be perceived in their countenances between the -one who delighted in the cestus, and the other that was famous in the -course; so between these two youths, though there was a strong general -likeness in their common love of fortitude and temperance, in their -liberality, their eloquence, and their greatness of mind, yet in their -actions and administrations of public affairs, a considerable variation -showed itself. - -Tiberius, in the form and expression of his countenance and in his -gesture and motion, was gentle and composed; but Caius, earnest and -vehement. And so in their public speeches to the people, the one spoke -in a quiet, orderly manner, standing throughout on the same spot; the -other would walk about on the hustings and in the heat of his orations -pull his gown off his shoulders, and was the first of all the Romans to -use such gestures. Caius’s oratory was impetuous and passionate, making -everything tell to the utmost, whereas Tiberius was gentle and -persuasive, awakening emotions of pity. His diction was pure and -carefully correct, while that of Caius was rich and vehement. - -So likewise in their way of living and at their tables; Tiberius was -frugal and plain, Caius, compared with others, temperate and even -austere, but contrasting with his brother in a fondness for new fashions -and varieties. The same difference that appeared in their diction was -observable also in their tempers. The one was mild and reasonable; the -other rough and passionate, and to that degree that often in the midst -of speaking he was so hurried away by his passion against his judgment -that his voice lost its tone and he began to pass into mere abusive -talking, spoiling his whole speech. - -As a remedy to this excess he made use of an ingenious servant of his, -one Licinius, who stood constantly behind him with a sort of pitch-pipe, -or instrument to regulate the voice by, and whenever he perceived his -master’s tone alter and break with anger, he struck a soft note with his -pipe, on hearing which Caius immediately checked the vehemence of his -passion and his voice grew quieter, and he allowed himself to be -recalled to temper. - -Such are the differences between the two brothers, but their valor in -war against their country’s enemies, their justice in the government of -its subjects, their care and industry in office, and their self-command -in all that regarded their pleasures, were equally remarkable in both. -Tiberius was the elder by nine years; owing to which their actions as -public men were divided by the difference of the times in which those of -the one and those of the other were performed. The power they would have -exercised, had they both flourished together, could scarcely have failed -to overcome all resistance. - -Their greatest detractors and their worst enemies could not but allow -that they had a genius to virtue beyond all other Romans, which was -improved also by a generous education. Besides, the Gracchi, happening -to live when Rome had her greatest repute for honor and virtuous -actions, might justly have been ashamed if they had not also left to the -next generation the whole inheritance of the virtues of their -ancestors. - -The integrity of the two Romans, and their superiority to money was -chiefly remarkable in this--that in office and the administration of -public affairs they kept themselves from the imputation of unjust gain. -The chief things in general which they aimed at were the settlement of -cities and mending the highways; and in particular the boldest design -which Tiberius is famed for is the recovery of the public land; and -Caius gained his greatest reputation by the addition, for the exercise -of judicial powers, of three hundred of the order of knights to the same -number of senators. - -Tiberius was the first who attempted to scale the walls of Carthage, -which was no mean exploit. We may add the peace which he concluded with -the Numantines, by which he saved the lives of twenty thousand Romans, -who otherwise had certainly been cut off. And Caius, not only at home, -but in war in Sardinia, displayed distinguished courage. So that their -early actions were no small argument that afterward they might have -rivaled the best of the Roman commanders if they had not died so young. - -Of the Gracchi, neither the one nor the other was the first to shed the -blood of his fellow-citizens; and Caius is reported to have avoided all -manner of resistance, even when his life was aimed at, showing himself -always valiant against a foreign enemy, but wholly inactive in a -sedition. This was the reason that he went from his own house unarmed, -and withdrew when the battle began, and in all respects showed himself -anxious rather not to do any harm to others than not suffer any himself. -Even the very flight of the Gracchi must not be looked on as an argument -of a mean spirit, but an honorable retreat from endangering others. - -The greatest crime that can be laid to Tiberius’s charge was the -disposing of his fellow-tribune, and seeking afterward a second -tribuneship for himself. Tiberius and Caius by nature had an excessive -desire for glory and honors. Beyond this, their enemies could find -nothing to bring against them; but as soon as the contention began with -their adversaries, their heat and passions would so far prevail beyond -their natural temper that by them, as by ill-winds, they were driven -afterward to all their rash undertakings. What would be more just and -honorable than their first design, had not the power and faction of the -rich, by endeavoring to abrogate that law, engaged them both in those -fatal quarrels, the one for his own preservation, the other to avenge -his brother’s death who was murdered without law or justice. - - - - -CAIUS MARIUS. - -BY JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE. - - [An able Roman general and leader of the democratic faction, born - 157 B.C., died 86. The military skill of Marius finished the - Jugurthine war and saved Rome from the Cimbri and Teutons. Though - of plebeian birth he married into an eminent patrician family, and - became thereby the uncle of Julius Cæsar, who attached himself to - the Marian party in the political wars which raged between the - popular and patrician factions, the latter being led by Sylla. The - worst stain on the memory of Marius is the massacre which he - permitted at the beginning of his last consulate. References: - Mommsen’s “History of Rome,” Froude’s “Life of Cæsar,” Plutarch’s - “Lives.”] - - -Marius was born at Arpinum, a Latin township, seventy miles from the -capital. His father was a small farmer, and he was himself bred to the -plow. He joined the army early, and soon attracted notice by the -punctual discharge of his duties. In a time of growing looseness, Marius -was strict himself in keeping discipline and in enforcing it as he rose -in the service. He was in Spain when Jugurtha[6] was there, and made -himself specially useful to Scipio;[7] he forced his way steadily upward -by his mere soldier-like qualities to the rank of military tribune. -Rome, too, had learned to know him, for he was chosen tribune of the -people the year after the murder of Caius Gracchus. Being a self-made -man, he naturally belonged to the popular party. While in office he gave -offense in some way to the men in power, and was called before the -senate to answer for himself. But he had the right on his side, it is -likely, for they found him stubborn and impertinent, and they could make -nothing of their charges against him. - -He was not bidding, however, at this time for the support of the mob. He -had the integrity and sense to oppose the largesses of corn, and he -forfeited his popularity by trying to close the public granaries before -the practice had passed into a system. He seemed as if made of a block -of hard Roman oak, gnarled and knotted but sound in all its fibers. His -professional merit continued to recommend him. At the age of forty he -became prætor,[8] and was sent to Spain, where he left a mark again by -the successful severity by which he cleared the provinces of banditti. -He was a man neither given himself to talking nor much talked about in -the world; but he was sought for wherever work was to be done, and he -had made himself respected and valued; for after his return from the -peninsula he had married into one of the most distinguished of the -patrician families. - -Marius by this marriage became a person of social consequence. His -father had been a client of the Metelli; and Cæcelius Metellus, who must -have known Marius by reputation and probably in person, invited him to -go as second in command in the African campaign.[9] The war dragged on, -and Marius, perhaps ambitious, perhaps impatient at the general’s want -of vigor, began to think he could make quicker work of it. There was -just irritation that a petty African prince could defy the whole power -of Rome for so many years; and though a democratic consul had been -unheard of for a century, the name of Marius began to be spoken of as a -possible candidate. Marius consented to stand. The patricians strained -their resources to defeat him, but he was chosen with enthusiasm. - -A shudder of alarm ran, no doubt, through the senate house when the -determination of the people was known. A successful general could not be -disposed of as easily as oratorical tribunes. Fortunately Marius was not -a politician. He had no belief in democracy. He was a soldier and had a -soldier’s way of thinking on government and the methods of it. His first -step was a reformation in the army. Hitherto the Roman legions had been -no more than the citizens in arms, called for the moment from their -various occupations to return to them when the occasion for their -services was past. Marius had perceived that fewer men, better trained -and disciplined, could be made more effective and be more easily -handled. He had studied war as a science. He had perceived that the -present weakness need be no more than an accident, and that there was a -latent force in the Roman state which needed only organization to resume -its ascendancy. - -“He enlisted,” it was said, “the worst of the citizens”--men, that is to -say, who had no occupation, and became soldiers by profession; and as -persons without property could not have furnished themselves at their -own cost, he must have carried out the scheme proposed by Gracchus, and -equipped them at the expense of the state. His discipline was of the -sternest. The experiment was new; and men of rank who had a taste for -war in earnest, and did not wish that the popular party should have the -whole benefit and credit of the improvements were willing to go with -him; among them a dissipated young patrician, called Lucius Sylla, whose -name was also destined to be memorable. - -Marius had formed an army barely in time to save Italy from being -totally overwhelmed. A vast migratory wave of population had been set in -motion behind the Rhine and Danube. The hunting-grounds were too strait -for the numbers crowded into them, and two enormous hordes were rolling -westward and southward in search of some new abiding-place. The Teutons -came from the Baltic down across the Rhine into Luxemburg. The Cimbri -crossed the Danube near its sources into Illyria. Both Teutons and -Cimbri were Germans, and both were making for Gaul by different routes. -Each division consisted of hundreds of thousands. They traveled with -their wives and children, their wagons, as with the ancient Scythians -and with the modern South African Dutch, being their homes. Two years -had been consumed in these wanderings, and Marius was by this time ready -for them. - -Marius was continued in office, and was a fourth time consul. He had -completed his military reforms, and the army was now a professional -service with regular pay. Trained corps of engineers were attached to -each legion. The campaigns of the Romans were henceforth to be conducted -with spade and pickaxe as well as with sword and javelin, and the -soldiers learned the use of tools as well as of arms. The Teutons were -destroyed on the twentieth of July, 102 B.C. In the year following the -same fate overtook their comrades. The victories of Marius mark a new -epoch in Roman history. The legions were no longer the levy of the -citizens in arms, who were themselves the state for which they fought. -The legionaries were citizens still. They had votes and they used them; -but they were professional soldiers with the modes of thought which -belong to soldiers, and besides the power of the hustings was now the -power of the sword. - -The danger from the Germans was no sooner gone than political anarchy -broke loose again. Marius, the man of the people, was the savior of his -country. He was made a consul a fifth time, and then a sixth. An -indifferent politician, however, he stood aloof in the fierce faction -contest between the aristocrats and the popular party. At last he had -almost withdrawn from public life, as he had no heart for the quarrel, -and did not care to exert his power. For eight years both he and his -rival Sylla kept aloof from politics and were almost unheard of. - -When Sylla came to the front, it was as leader of the aristocratic power -in the state. Sulpicius Rufus, once a champion of the senate and the -most brilliant orator in Rome, went over to the people, and as tribune -demanded the deposition of Sylla. The latter replied by leading his -legionaries to Rome. Sulpicius was killed; Marius, the savior of his -country, had to fly for his life, pursued by assassins, with a price set -upon his head. - -While Sylla was absent in the East prosecuting that magnificent campaign -against Mithridates, King of Pontus, which stamped him the first soldier -of his time, the popular party again raised its head. Old Marius, who -had been hunted through marsh and forest, and had been hiding with -difficulty in Africa, came back at the news that Italy had risen again. -Marius and Cinna joined their forces, appeared together at the gates of -the capital, and Rome capitulated. There was a bloody score to be wiped -out. Marius bears the chief blame for the scenes which followed. A price -had been set on his head, his house had been destroyed, his property had -been confiscated, he, himself, had been chased like a wild beast, and he -had not deserved such treatment. He had saved Italy, when but for him it -would have been wasted by the swords of the Germans. - -His power had afterward been absolute, but he had not abused it for -party purposes. The senate had no reason to complain of him. His crime -in their eyes had been his eminence. They had now shown themselves as -cruel as they were worthless; and if public justice was disposed to make -an end of them, he saw no cause to interfere. From retaliatory political -vengeance the transition was easy to plunder and wholesale murder; and -for many days the wretched city was made a prey to robbers and -cut-throats. - -So ended the year 87, the darkest and bloodiest which the guilty city -had yet experienced. Marius and Cinna were chosen consuls for the -ensuing year and a witch’s prophecy was fulfilled that Marius should -hold a seventh consulate. But the glory had departed from him. His sun -was already setting, redly, among crimson clouds. He lived but a -fortnight after his inauguration, and died in his bed at the age of -seventy-one. “The mother of the Gracchi,” said Mirabeau, “cast the dust -of her murdered sons into the air, and out of it sprang Caius Marius.” - - - - -MITHRIDATES, KING OF PONTUS.[10] - -BY THEODOR MOMMSEN. - - [Surnamed “the Great,” born about 132 B.C., died in 63. This - powerful Eastern monarch, who greatly extended his frontiers beyond - his original kingdom, was one of the most formidable barriers to - Roman power in Asia. He organized a league and severely taxed the - military resources of the republic. Sulla spent four years in - compelling him to submit to an honorable peace. In the second - Mithridatic war he was successively defeated by Lucullus and - Pompey. He finally committed suicide by the hands of one of his - mercenaries. References: Mommsen’s “History of Rome,” Arnold’s - “History of Rome.”] - - -Partly through the constant growth of oppression naturally incident to -every tyrannic government, partly through the indirect operation of the -Roman revolution--in the seizure, for instance, of the property of the -soil in the province of Asia by Caius Gracchus, in the Roman tenths and -customs, and in the human hunts which the collectors of revenue added to -their other avocations there--the Roman rule, barely tolerable from the -first, pressed so heavily on Asia, that neither the king’s crown nor the -peasant’s hut there was any longer safe from confiscation, that every -stalk of corn seemed to grow for Roman tribute, and every child of free -parents seemed born for the Roman slave-driver. - -It is true that the Asiatic bore even this torture with his -inexhaustible passive endurance; but it was not patience or reflection -that made him bear it peacefully. It was rather the peculiarly Oriental -want of power to take the initiative; and in these peaceful lands, among -these effeminate nations, strange and terrible things might happen if -once there should appear among them a man who knew how to give the -signal for revolt. - -There reigned at that time in the kingdom of Pontus Mithridates VI, -surnamed Eupator, who traced back his lineage on the father’s side, in -the sixteenth generation to King Darius, son of Hystaspes, in the eighth -to Mithridates I, the founder of the Pontic Empire, and was on the -mother’s side descended from the Alexandridæ and the Seleucidæ. After -the early death of his father, Mithridates Euergetes, who fell by the -hand of an assassin at Synope, he had received the title of king when a -boy of eleven years old; but the diadem had only brought to him trouble -and danger. It is said that in order to escape from the daggers of his -legal protectors, he became of his own accord a wanderer; and during -seven years, changing his resting-place night after night, a fugitive -in his own kingdom, led the life of a lonely hunter. - -Thus the boy grew into a mighty man. Although our accounts regarding him -are in substance traceable to written records of contemporaries, yet the -legendary tradition, which is generated with the rapidity of lightning -in the East, early adorned the mighty king with many of the traits of -its Samson and Rustem. These traits, however, belong to his character -just as the crown of clouds belong to the highest mountain peaks; the -outline of the figure appears in both cases only more colored and -fantastic, not disturbed or essentially altered. - -The armor which fitted the gigantic frame of King Mithridates excited -the wonder of the Asiatics, and still more that of the Italians. As a -runner he overtook the swiftest deer; as a rider he broke in the wildest -steed, and was able by changing horses to accomplish one hundred and -twenty miles in a day; as a charioteer he drove with sixteen in hand, -and gained in competition many a prize--it was dangerous, no doubt, in -such sport to carry off victory from the king. - -In hunting on horseback he hit the game at full gallop, and never missed -his aim. He challenged competition at the table also; he arranged -banqueting matches and carried off in person the prizes proposed for the -most substantial eater and the hardest drinker. His intellectual wants -he satisfied by the wildest superstition--the interpretation of dreams -and of the Greek mysteries occupied not a few of the king’s hours--and -by a rude adoption of the Hellenic civilization. He was fond of Greek -art and music--that is to say, he collected precious articles, rich -furniture, old Persian and Greek articles of luxury--his cabinet of -rings was famous--he had constantly Greek historians, philosophers, and -poets in his train; and proposed prizes at his court festivals, not only -for the greatest eaters and drinkers, but also for the merriest jester -and the best singer. - -Such was the man; the sultan corresponded. In the East, where the -relation between the ruler and the ruled bears the relation of natural -rather than of moral law, the subject resembles the dog alike in -fidelity and in falsehood, the ruler is cruel and distrustful. In both -respects Mithridates has hardly been surpassed. By his orders there died -or pined in perpetual captivity, for real or alleged treason, his -mother, his brother, his sister espoused to him, three of his sons, and -as many of his daughters. Still more revolting, perhaps, is the fact -that among his secret papers were found sentences of death, drawn up -beforehand, against his most confidential servants. - -In like manner it was a genuine trait of the sultan that he afterward, -for the mere purpose of depriving his enemy of trophies of victory, -caused his whole harem to be killed, and distinguished his favorite -concubine, a beautiful Ephesian, by allowing her to choose the mode of -death. He prosecuted the experimental studies of poisons and antidotes -as an important branch of the business of government, and tried to inure -his body to particular poisons. He had early learned to look for treason -and assassination at the hands of everybody, especially his nearest -relations, and he had early learned to practice them against everybody, -and most of all against those nearest him; of which the necessary -consequence--attested by history--was that all his undertakings finally -miscarried through the perfidy of those whom he trusted. - -At the same time we meet with isolated traits of high-minded justice. -When he punished traitors, he ordinarily spared those who were involved -in the crime solely through their personal relations with the leading -culprits; but such fits of equity are to be met with in every barbarous -tyrant. What really distinguishes Mithridates amid the multitude of -similar sultans is his boundless activity. He disappeared one fine -morning from his palace, and remained unheard of for months, so that he -was given over as lost; when he returned, he had wandered _incognito_ -through all anterior Asia, and reconnoitered everywhere the country and -the people. - -In like manner he was not only generally fluent in speech, but he -administered justice to each of the twenty-two nations over which he -ruled in its own language, without needing an interpreter--a trait -significant of the versatile East. His whole activity as a ruler bears -the same character. So far as we know, his energies, like those of every -other sultan, were spent in collecting treasures, in assembling -armies--which were usually, in his earlier years at least, led against -the enemy not by the king in person, but by some Greek _condottiere_--in -efforts to add new satrapies to the old. - -Of higher elements--desire to advance civilization, earnest leadership -of the national opposition, special gifts of genius--there are found, in -our traditional accounts at least, no distinct traces in Mithridates, -and we have no reason to place him on a level even with the great rulers -of the Osmans, such as Mohammed II and Suleiman. Notwithstanding his -Hellenic culture, which sat on him not much better than his Roman armor -on his Cappadocians, he was throughout an Oriental of the ordinary -stamp, coarse, full of the most sensual appetites, superstitious, cruel, -perfidious, and unscrupulous, but so vigorous in organization, so -powerful in physical endowments, that his defiant laying about him and -his unshaken courage in resistance frequently look like talent, -sometimes even like genius. - -Granting even that during the death-struggle of the republic it was -easier to offer resistance than in the times of Scipio or Trajan, and -that it was only in the complication of the Asiatic events with the -internal commotions of Italy that rendered it possible for Mithridates -to resist the Romans twice as long as Jugurtha did, it nevertheless -remains true that before the Parthian war he was the only enemy who gave -serious trouble to the Romans in the East, and that he defended himself -as the lion of the desert defends himself against the hunter. - -But whatever judgment we may form as to the individual character of the -king, his historical position remains in a high degree significant. The -Mithridatic wars formed at once the last movement of the political -opposition offered by Hellas to Rome and the beginning of a revolt -against the Roman supremacy resting on very different and far deeper -grounds of antagonism--the national reaction of the Asiatics against the -Occidentals, a new passage in the huge duel between the West and the -East which has been transmitted from the struggle of Marathon to the -present generation, and will, perhaps, reckon its future by thousands of -years as it has reckoned its past. - - - - -LUCIUS SYLLA. - -BY JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE. - - [Lucius Cornelius Sulla or Sylla (Felix) dictator of Rome, born 138 - B.C., died in 78. Leader of the aristocratic party in the state, he - destroyed the party of popular reform, became dictator, and - proscribed thousands of the best citizens of the republic, who were - hunted down like wild beasts. In the Social and the Samnite war, as - in the first war against Mithridates, he displayed the genius of a - great soldier, surpassing even that of his able rival Marius. He - reorganized the Roman Constitution, concentrated all power in the - hands of the senatorial oligarchy, and paved the way for Julius - Cæsar to overthrow the liberties of the republic, though the latter - belonged to the opposite party. References: Froude’s “Life of - Cæsar,” Plutarch’s “Lives,” Mommsen’s “History of Rome.”] - - -Lucius Sylla, a patrician of the purest blood, had inherited a moderate -fortune, and had spent it like other young men of rank, lounging in -theatres and amusing himself with dinner-parties. He was a poet, an -artist, and a wit, but each and everything with the languor of an -amateur. His favorite associates were actresses, and he had neither -obtained nor aspired to any higher reputation than that of a cultivated -man of fashion. - -His distinguished birth was not apparent in his person. He had red hair, -hard blue eyes, and a complexion white and purple, with the colors so -ill-mixed, that his face was compared to a mulberry sprinkled with -flour. Ambition, he appeared to have none, and when he exerted himself -to be appointed quæstor[11] to Marius on the African expedition, Marius -was disinclined to take him as having no recommendation beyond -qualifications which the consul of the plebeians disdained and disliked. -Marius, however, soon discovered his mistake. Beneath his constitutional -indolence Sylla was by nature a soldier, a statesman, a diplomatist. He -had been too contemptuous of the common objects of politicians to -concern himself with the intrigues of the forum, but he had only to -exert himself to rise with easy ascendancy to the command of every -situation in which he might be placed. - -The war of factions which exiled Marius, placed Sylla at the head of the -expedition against the King of Pontus. He defeated Mithridates, he drove -him back out of Greece and pursued him into Asia. He left him still in -possession of his hereditary kingdom; but he left him bound, so far as -treaties could bind so ambitious a spirit, to remain thenceforward on -his own frontiers. He recovered Greece, the islands, and the Roman -provinces in Asia Minor. He extorted an indemnity of five millions, and -executed many of the wretches who had been active in the murders. He -raised a fleet in Egypt with which he drove the pirates out of the -archipelago back into their own waters. He restored the shattered -prestige of Roman authority, and he won for himself a reputation which -his later cruelties could stain but not efface. During his Eastern -campaign, a period of more than four years, the popular party had -recovered ascendancy at Rome. - -The time was come when Sylla was to demand a reckoning for what had been -done in his absence. No Roman general had deserved better of his -country; his task was finished. He had measured the difficulty of the -task which lay before him, but he had an army behind him accustomed to -victory, and recruited by thousands of exiles who had fled from the rule -of the democracy. He intended to re-enter Rome with the glories of his -conquests about him, for revenge, and a counter-revolution. Sylla had -lingered at Athens, collecting paintings and statues and -manuscripts--the rarest treasures on which he could lay his hands--to -decorate his Roman palace. On receiving the consul’s answer he sailed -for Brindisi in the spring of 83 with forty thousand legionaries and a -large fleet. - -The war lasted for more than a year. At length the contest ended in a -desperate fight under the walls of Rome itself on the first of November, -B.C., 82. The popular army was at last cut to pieces, a few thousand -prisoners taken, but they were murdered afterward in cold blood. Young -Marius killed himself. Sertorius fled to Spain, and Sylla and the -aristocracy were masters of Rome and Italy. Sylla was under no -illusions. He understood the problem which he had in hand. He knew that -the aristocracy were detested by nine tenths of the people; he knew that -they deserved to be detested, but they were at least gentlemen by birth -and breeding. - -The democrats, on the other hand, were insolent upstarts who, instead of -being grateful for being allowed to live and work and pay taxes and -serve in the army, had dared to claim a share in the government, had -turned against their masters, and had set their feet upon their necks. -They were ignorant, and without leaders could be controlled easily. The -guilt and danger lay with the men of wealth and intellect, the country -gentlemen, the minority of knights and patricians like Cinna,[12] who -had taken the popular side and deserted their own order. There was no -hope for an end of agitation till every one of these men had been rooted -out. - -Appointed dictator, at his own direction, by the senate, he at once -outlawed every magistrate, every public servant, civil or municipal, who -had held office under the rule of Cinna. It mattered little to Sylla who -were included if none escaped who were really dangerous to him; and an -order was issued for a slaughter of the entire number, the confiscation -of their property, and the division of it between the informers and -Sylla’s friends and soldiers. It was one of those deliberate acts, -carried out with method and order, which are possible only in countries -in an advanced stage of civilization, and which show how thin is the -film spread over human ferocity by what is called progress and culture. -Four thousand seven hundred persons fell in the proscription of Sylla, -all men of education and fortune. Common report or private information -was at once indictment and evidence, and accusation was in itself -condemnation. - -The political reform enforced by the dictator gave the senate complete -restrictive control over legislation and administration. All -constitutional progress which had been made in the interests of the -people was utterly swept away. The senate was made omnipotent and -irresponsible. Sylla’s career was drawing to its close, and the end was -not the least remarkable feature of it. He resigned the dictatorship and -became a private citizen again, amusing the leisure of his age, as he -had abused the leisure of his youth, with theatres and actresses and -dinner-parties. - -He too, like so many of the great Romans, was indifferent to life; of -power for the sake of power he was entirely careless; and if his -retirement had been more dangerous to him than it really was, he -probably would not have postponed it. He was a person of singular -character, and not without many qualities which were really admirable. -He was free from any touch of charlatanry. He was true, simple, and -unaffected, and even without ambition in the mean and personal sense. -His fault, which he would have denied to be a fault, was that he had a -patrician disdain of mobs and suffrages and the cant of popular liberty. - -The type repeats itself era after era. Sylla was but Graham of -Claverhouse in a Roman dress and with an ampler stage. His courage in -laying down his authority has often been commented on, but the risk -which he incurred was insignificant. Of assassination he was in no -greater danger than when dictator, while the temptation to assassinate -him was less. His influence was practically undiminished, and as long as -he lived he remained, and could not but remain, the first person in the -republic. He lived a year after his retirement and died 78 B.C., being -occupied at the time in writing his memoirs, which have been -unfortunately lost. He was buried gorgeously in the Campus Martius, -among the old kings of Rome. - - - - -POMPEY. - -BY THOMAS KERCHEVER ARNOLD. - - [Known as Cneius Pompeius Magnus (or the Great), born 106 B.C., - assassinated in Egypt by one of his own officers in 48. Best known - as the most formidable rival of Julius Cæsar; his career was - eminently fortunate till he sunk before the ascendancy of a greater - man. He achieved brilliant victories for Rome, and was honored with - three triumphs. Pompey was identified in the factional wars of - Italy, with the party led by Sulla. He finally became triumvir in - the division of power with Cæsar and Crassus. In the civil war - which ensued Pompey was defeated by Cæsar at the battle of - Pharsalia in Thessaly. After this defeat he fled to Egypt, where, - as he was leaving the boat for the shore, he was stabbed in the - back.] - - -The tears shed for Pompey were not only those of domestic infliction; -his fate called forth a more general and honorable mourning. No man had -ever gained at so early an age the affections of his countrymen; none -had enjoyed them so largely, or preserved them so long with so little -interruption; and at the distance of eighteen centuries the feeling of -his contemporaries may be sanctioned by the sober judgment of history. - -He entered upon life as a distinguished member of an oppressed party, -which was just arriving at its hour of triumph and retaliation; he saw -his associates plunged into rapine and massacre, but he preserved -himself pure from the contagion of their crimes; and when the death of -Sylla left him almost at the head of the aristocratical party, he served -them ably and faithfully with his sword, while he endeavored to mitigate -the evils of their ascendancy by restoring to the commons of Rome, on -the earliest opportunity, the most important of those privileges and -liberties which they had lost under the tyranny of their late master. - -He received the due reward of his honest patriotism in the unusual -honors and trusts that were conferred on him; but his greatness could -not corrupt his virtue; and the boundless powers with which he was -repeatedly invested he wielded with the highest ability and uprightness -to the accomplishment of his task, and then, without any undue attempts -to prolong their duration, he honestly resigned them. At a period of -general cruelty and extortion toward the enemies and subjects of the -commonwealth, the character of Pompey in his foreign commands was marked -by its humanity and spotless integrity. - -His conquest of the pirates was effected with wonderful rapidity, and -cemented by a merciful policy, which, instead of taking vengeance for -the past, accomplished the prevention of evil for the future. His -presence in Asia, when he conducted the war with Mithridates, was no -less a relief to the provinces from the tyranny of their governors, than -it was their protection against the arms of the enemy. It is true that -wounded vanity led him, after his return from Asia, to unite himself for -a time with some unworthy associates; and this connection, as it -ultimately led to all his misfortunes, so did it immediately tempt him -to the worst faults of his political life, and involved him in a career -of difficulty, mortification, and shame. - -But after this disgraceful fall, he again returned to his natural -station, and was universally regarded as the fit protector of the laws -and liberties of his country when they were threatened by Cæsar’s -rebellion. In the conduct of the civil war he showed something of -weakness and vacillation; but his abilities, though considerable, were -far from being equal to those of his adversary. His inferiority was most -seen in that want of steadiness in the pursuit of his own plans which -caused him to abandon a system already sanctioned by success, and to -persuade himself that he might yield with propriety to the ill-judged -impatience of his followers for battle. - -His death is one of the few tragical events of those times which may be -regarded with unmixed compassion. It was not accompanied, like that of -Cato and Brutus, with the rashness and despair of suicide; nor can it be -regarded like that of Cæsar, as the punishment of crimes, unlawfully -inflicted, indeed, yet suffered deservedly. With a character of rare -purity and tenderness in his domestic relations, he was slaughtered -before the eyes of his wife and son; while flying from the ruin of a -most just cause he was murdered by those whose kindness he was entitled -to claim. - -His virtues have not been transmitted to posterity with their deserved -fame; and while the violent republican writers have exalted the memory -of Cato and Brutus; while the lovers of literature have extolled -Cicero; and the admirers of successful ability have lavished their -praises on Cæsar; Pompey’s many and rare merits have been forgotten in -the faults of his triumvirate, and in the weakness of temper which he -displayed in conduct of the last campaign. - -But he must have been in no ordinary degree good and amiable for whom -his countrymen professed their enthusiastic love, unrestrained by -servility and unimpelled by faction; and though the events of his life -must now be gathered for the most part from unfriendly sources, yet we -think that they who read them impartially will continually cherish his -memory with a warmer regard. - - - - -SERTORIUS. - -BY PLUTARCH. - - [Quintus Sertorius, a Roman general of Sabine extraction, born - about 121 B.C., assassinated in Spain in 72. A prominent chief of - the Marian party, he fled to Spain and held possession of the - province against the dominant party at Rome for more than ten - years. He was the one leader among the adherents of Marius, as - Pompey was the one general among the followers of Sylla, who showed - moderation and the spirit of clemency. His greatness was chiefly - shown in his career in Spain. He displayed consummate generalship - and skill in holding all the armies of Rome at bay till he was - assassinated by one of his own officers.] - - -Sertorius at last utterly despaired of Rome, and hastened into Spain, -that by taking possession there beforehand he might secure a refuge to -his friends from their misfortunes at home. He armed all the Romans who -lived in those countries that were of military age, and undertook the -building of ships and the making of all sorts of warlike engines, by -which means he kept the cities in due obedience, showing himself gentle -in all peaceful business, and at the same time formidable to his -enemies by his great preparations for war. - -When Sertorius was called to Mauritania to assist the enemies of Prince -Ascalis, and had made himself absolute master of the whole country, he -acted with great fairness to those who had confided in him, and who -yielded to his mercy. He restored to them their property, cities, and -government, accepting only of such acknowledgments as they themselves -freely offered. While he considered which way next to turn his arms, the -Lusitanians sent ambassadors to desire him to be their general. For -being terrified with the Roman power, and finding the necessity of -having a commander of great authority and experience in war; being also -sufficiently assured of his worth and valor by those who formerly had -known him, they were desirous to commit themselves specially to his -care. - -In fact, Sertorius is said to have been of a temper unassailable either -by fear or pleasure, in adversity and dangers undaunted, and no ways -puffed up with prosperity. In straightforward fighting no commander of -his time was more bold and daring; and in whatever was to be performed -in war by stratagem, secrecy, or surprise, if any strong place was to be -secured, any pass to be gained speedily, for deceiving and overreaching -an enemy, there was no man equal to him in subtlety and skill. - -In bestowing rewards and conferring honors upon those who had performed -good service in the wars he was bountiful and magnificent, and was no -less sparing and moderate in inflicting punishment. The Lusitanians -having sent for Sertorius, he left Africa, and being made general, with -absolute authority, he put all in order among them, and brought the -neighboring parts of Spain into subjection. Most of the tribes -voluntarily submitted themselves, won by the fame of his clemency and of -his courage; and to some extent also, he availed himself of cunning -artifices of his own devising to impose on them, and gain influence over -them. - -Among which certainly that of the hind was not the least. Spanus, a -countryman who lived in those parts, meeting by chance a hind that had -recently calved flying from the hunters, let the dam go, and pursuing -the fawn took it, being wonderfully pleased with the rarity of the -color, which was all milk white. At that time Sertorius was living in -the neighborhood, and accepted gladly any presents of fruits, fowl, or -venison that the country afforded, and rewarded liberally those who -presented them. - -The countryman brought him his young hind, which he took and was well -pleased with at first sight; but when in time he made it so tame and -gentle that it would come when he called, and follow him wherever he -went, and could endure the noise and tumult of the camp, knowing well -that uncivilized people are naturally prone to superstition, by little -and little he raised it to something supernatural, saying it was given -him by the goddess Diana, and that it revealed to him many secrets. - -If he had received private intelligence that the enemies had made an -incursion into any part of the district under his command, or had -solicited any city to revolt, he pretended that the hind had informed -him of it in his sleep, and charged him to keep his forces in readiness. -Or, again, if he had notice that any of the commanders under him had got -a victory, he would hide the messengers and bring forth the hind crowned -with flowers, for joy of the good news that was to come, and would -encourage them to rejoice and sacrifice to the gods for the good account -they should soon receive of their prosperous success. - -He was also highly honored for his introducing discipline and good order -among them, for he altered their furious mode of fighting, and brought -them to make use of Roman armor, taught them to keep their ranks, and -observe signals and watch-words; and out of a confused number of thieves -and robbers he constituted a well-disciplined army. That which delighted -them most, however, was the care he took of their children. He sent for -all the boys of noblest parentage out of all their tribes, and placed -them in the great city of Osca, where he appointed masters to instruct -them in the Latin and Greek learning. - -His method of conducting the war against the Romans showed his military -skill and foresight. By rapidly assaulting them, by alarming them on all -sides, by ensnaring, circumventing, and laying ambushes for them, he cut -off all provisions by land, while with his piratical vessels he kept all -the coast in awe and hindered their supplies by sea. He thus forced the -Roman generals to dislodge and to separate from one another at the last; -Metellus departed into Gaul and Pompey wintered among the Vaccæans in a -wretched condition, where, being in extreme want of money, he wrote a -letter to the senate, to let them know that if they did not speedily -supply him he must draw off his army. To these extremities the chiefest -and most powerful commanders of the age were brought by the skill of -Sertorius; and it was the common opinion in Rome that he would be in -Italy before Pompey. - -Sertorius showed the loftiness of his temper in calling together all the -Roman senators who had fled from Rome and had come and resided with him, -giving them the name of a senate. Out of these he chose prætors and -quæstors, and adorned his government with all the Roman laws and -institutions, and though he made use of the arms, riches, and cities of -the Spaniards, yet he never would even in word remit to them the -imperial authority, but set Roman officers and commanders over them, -intimating his purpose to restore liberty to the Romans, not to raise up -the Spaniards’ power against them. - -He was a sincere lover of his country and had a great desire to return -home; but in his adverse fortune he showed undaunted courage, and -behaved himself toward his enemies in a manner free from all dejection -and mean spiritedness. In his prosperity and the height of his victories -he sent word to Metellus and Pompey that he was ready to lay down his -arms and lead a private life if he were allowed to return home, -declaring that he had rather live as the meanest citizen in Rome than, -exiled from it, be supreme commander of all other cities together. - -His negotiations with Mithridates further argue the greatness of his -mind. For when Mithridates, recovering himself from his overthrow by -Sylla--like a strong wrestler that gets up to try another fall--was -again endeavoring to re-establish his power in Asia, at this time the -great fame of Sertorius was celebrated in all places. Accordingly, -Mithridates sends messengers into Spain with letters and instructions -and commission to promise ships and money toward the charge of the war -if Sertorius would confirm his pretensions on Asia, and authorize him to -possess all that he had surrendered to the Romans in his treaty with -Sylla. - -Sertorius would by no means agree to it; declaring that King Mithridates -should exercise all royal power and authority over Bithynia and -Cappadocia--countries accustomed to a monarchical government and not -belonging to Rome--but that he could never consent that he should seize -or detain a province which, by the justest right and title, was -possessed by the Romans. For he looked upon it as his duty to enlarge -the Roman possessions by his conquering arms, and not to increase his -power by the diminution of Roman territories. - -When this was related to Mithridates he was struck with amazement, and -said to his intimate friends: “What will Sertorius enjoin on us to do -when he comes to be seated in the Palatium at Rome, who, at present, -when he is driven out to the borders of the Atlantic Sea, sets bounds to -our kingdoms in the East, and threatens us with war if we attempt the -recovery of Asia?” - -[Illustration: JULIUS CÆSAR.] - - - - -JULIUS CÆSAR. - -BY JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE. - - [A Roman general and statesman and founder of the empire, though - its first ruler was Octavianus, his nephew and adopted son, who - mounted the throne under the name of Augustus Cæsar. Born 100 B.C., - assassinated in the senate-house 44 B.C. By many historians and - critics Julius Cæsar is regarded as the greatest man who lived - before the Christian era.] - - -In person Cæsar was tall and slight. His features were more refined than -was usual in Roman faces; the forehead was wide and high, the nose large -and thin, the lips full, the eyes dark gray, like an eagle’s, the neck -extremely thick and sinewy. His complexion was pale. His beard and -mustache were kept carefully shaved. His hair was short and naturally -scanty, falling off toward the end of his life, and leaving him -partially bald. His voice, especially when he spoke in public, was high -and shrill. His health was uniformly good, until his last year when he -became subject to epileptic fits. - -He was a great bather, and scrupulously neat in his habits, abstemious -in his food, and careless in what it consisted, rarely or never touching -wine, and noting sobriety as the highest of qualities in describing any -new people. He was an athlete in early life, admirable in all manly -exercises, and especially in riding. From his boyhood it was observed of -him that he was the truest of friends, that he avoided quarrels, and was -easily appeased when offended. In manner he was quiet and -gentleman-like, with the natural courtesy of high breeding. - -Like Cicero, Cæsar entered public life at the bar. It was by accident -that he took up the profession of the soldier; yet, perhaps, no -commander who ever lived showed greater military genius. The conquest of -Gaul was effected by a force numerically insignificant, which was -worked with the precision of a machine. The variety of uses to which it -was capable of being turned implied, in the first place, extraordinary -forethought in the selection of materials. Men whose nominal duty was -merely to fight were engineers, architects, and mechanics of the highest -order. In a few hours they could extemporize an impregnable fortress on -the highest hill-side. They bridged the Rhine in a week. They built a -fleet in a month. - -The legions at Alesia held twice their number pinned within their works, -while they kept at bay the whole force of insurgent Gaul by scientific -superiority. The machine, which was thus perfect, was composed of human -beings who required supplies of tools and arms and clothes and food and -shelter; and for all these it depended on the forethought of its -commander. Maps there were none. Countries entirely unknown had to be -surveyed; routes had to be laid out; the depths and courses of rivers, -the character of mountain-passes had all to be ascertained. Allies had -to be found in tribes as yet unheard of. - -He was rash, but with a calculated rashness which the event never failed -to justify. His greatest successes were due to the rapidity of his -movements, which brought him to the enemy before they heard of his -approach. No obstacles stopped him when he had a definite end in view. -Again and again by his own efforts he recovered a day that was half -lost. He once seized a panic-stricken standard-bearer, turned him -around, and told him that he had mistaken the direction of the enemy. - -Yet he was singularly careful of his soldiers. He rarely fought a battle -at a disadvantage. When a gallant action was performed, he knew by whom -it had been done, and every soldier, however humble, might feel assured -that if he deserved praise he would have it. The army was Cæsar’s -family. In discipline, he was lenient to ordinary faults, and not -careful to make curious inquiries into such things. He liked his men to -enjoy themselves. Military mistakes in his officers he always endeavored -to excuse, never blaming them for misfortunes unless there had been a -defect of courage as well as of judgment. - -Cicero has said of Cæsar’s oratory that he surpassed those who had -practiced no other art. His praise of him as a man of letters is yet -more delicately and gracefully emphatic. Most of his writings are lost; -but there remain seven books of commentaries on the wars in Gaul (the -eighth was added by another hand) and three books on the civil war, -containing an account of its causes and history. Of these it was that -Cicero said, in an admirable image, that fools might think to improve on -them, but that no wise man would try it; they were bare of ornament, the -dress of style dispensed with, like an undraped human figure in all its -lines as nature made it. In his composition, as in his actions, Cæsar is -entirely simple. He indulges in no images, no labored descriptions, no -conventional reflections. His art is unconscious, as the highest art -always is. - -Of Cæsar it may be said that he came into the world at a special time -and for a special object. The old religions were dead from the Pillars -of Hercules to the Euphrates and the Nile, and the principles on which -human society had been constructed were dead also. There remained of -spiritual conviction only the common and human sense of justice and -morality; and out of this sense some ordered system of government had to -be constructed, under which quiet men could live and labor and eat the -fruit of their industry. Under a rule of this material kind there can be -no enthusiasm, no chivalry, no saintly aspirations, no patriotism of the -heroic type. It was not to last forever. A new life was about to dawn -for mankind. - -Poetry and faith and devotion were to spring again out of the seeds -which were sleeping in the heart of humanity. But the life which is to -endure grows slowly; and as the soil must be prepared before the wheat -can be sown, so before the Kingdom of Heaven could throw up its shoots, -there was needed a kingdom of this world where the nations were neither -torn in pieces by violence, nor were rushing after false ideals and -spurious ambitions. Such a kingdom was the empire of the Cæsars, a -kingdom where peaceful men could work, think, and speak as they pleased, -and travel freely among provinces ruled for the most part by Gallios[13] -who protected life and property, and forbade fanatics to tear each other -to pieces for their religious opinions. - -“It is not lawful for us to put any man to death,” was the complaint of -the Jewish priests to the Roman governor. Had Europe and Asia been -covered with independent nations, each with a local religion represented -in its ruling powers, Christianity must have been stifled in its cradle. -If St. Paul had escaped the Sanhedrim at Jerusalem, he would have been -torn to death by the silversmiths at Ephesus. The appeal to Cæsar’s -judgment-seat was the shield of his mission, and alone made possible his -success. - -And this spirit which confined government to its simple duties, while it -left opinion unfettered, was specially present in Julius Cæsar himself. -From cant of all kinds he was totally free. He was a friend of the -people, but indulged in no enthusiasm for liberty. He never dilated on -the beauties of virtue, or complimented, as Cicero did, a Providence in -which he did not believe. He was too sincere to stoop to unreality. He -held to the facts of this life and to his own convictions; and as he -found no reason for supposing that there was a life beyond the grave, he -did not pretend to expect it. He respected the religion of the Roman -state as an institution established by the laws. - -He encouraged or left unmolested the creeds and practices of the -uncounted sects and tribes who were gathered under the eagles. But his -own writings contain nothing to indicate that he himself had any -religious belief at all. He saw no evidence that the gods practically -interfered in human affairs. He never pretended that Jupiter was on his -side. He thanked his soldiers after a victory, but he did not order _Te -Deums_ to be sung for it; and in the absence of these conventionalisms -he perhaps showed more real reverence than he could have displayed by -the freest use of the formulas of piety. He fought his battles to -establish some tolerable degree of justice in the government of this -world; and he succeeded though he was murdered for doing it. - - - - -TRAJAN. - -BY CHARLES MERIVALE. - - [M. Ulpius Trajanus, successor as Roman emperor to Nerva, born A.D. - 53, ascended the throne 99; died 118. One of the most illustrious - among those who wore the Roman purple, his reign was distinguished - as much by happiness and prosperity as by lofty virtues. As a - soldier, Trajan subdued the Dacians, completed the conquest of - Germany and Sarmatia, annexed Armenia to the empire, and subdued - the Parthians to the Roman yoke. His civic administration was no - less notable than his military conquests and organization.] - - -The princely prodigality of Trajan’s taste was defrayed by the plunder -or the tribute of conquered enemies, and seems to have laid at least no -extraordinary burden on his subjects. His rage for building had the -further merit of being directed for the most part to works of public -utility and interest. He built for the gods, the senate, and the people, -and not for himself; he restored the palaces, enlarged the halls and -places of public resort; but he was content himself with the palaces of -his predecessors. A writer three centuries later declares of Trajan that -he built the world over; and the wide diffusion and long continuance of -his fame beyond that of so many others of the imperial series may be -partly attributed to the constant recurrence of his name conspicuously -inscribed on the most solid and best known monuments of the empire. - -The care of this wise and liberal ruler extended from the harbors, -aqueducts, and bridges to the general repair of the highways of the -empire. He was the great improver, though not the inventor of the system -of posts on the chief roads, which formed a striking feature of Roman -civilization as an instrument for combining the remotest provinces under -a central organization. - -The legislation of this popular emperor is marked generally by a special -consideration for Italian interests. The measures by which he secured a -constant supply of grain from the provinces, exempting its exportation -from all duties, and stimulating the growers at one extremity of the -empire to relieve the deficiencies of another, were directed to the -maintenance of abundance in Rome and Italy. Thus, on the casual failure -of the harvest in Egypt, her empty granaries were at once replenished -from the superfluous stores of Gaul, Spain, or Africa. - -Though Trajan’s mind did not rise to wide and liberal views for the -advantages of the provinces, he neglected no favorable opportunity for -the benefit of particular localities. His hand was open to bestow -endowments and largesses, to relieve public calamities, to increase -public enjoyments, to repair the ravages of earthquakes and tempests, to -construct roads and canals, theatres and aqueducts. The activity -displayed through the empire in works of this unproductive nature shows -a great command of money, an abundant currency, easy means of -transacting business, ample resources of labor, and well devised schemes -of combining and unfolding them. Judicious economy went ever hand in -hand with genuine magnificence. - -The monuments of Roman jurisprudence contain many examples of Trajan’s -legislation. Like the great statesmen of the republic, he returned from -the camp to the city to take his seat daily on the tribunals with the -ablest judges for his assessors. He heard appeals from the highest -courts throughout his dominion, and the final sentence he pronounced -assumed the validity of a legal enactment. The clemency of Trajan was as -conspicuous as his love of justice, and to him is ascribed the noble -sentiment, that it is better that the guilty should escape than the -innocent suffer. - -The justice, the modesty, the unwearied application of Trajan were -deservedly celebrated, no less than his valor in war and his conduct in -political affairs. But a great part of his amazing popularity was owing, -no doubt, to his genial demeanor and to the affection inspired by his -qualities as a friend and associate. The remains still existing of his -correspondence in the letters of Pliny bring out not only the manners of -the time, but in some degree the character of the prince also; and bear -ample testimony to his minute vigilance and unwearied application, his -anxiety for his subjects’ well-being, the ease with which he conducted -his intercourse with his friends, and the ease with which he inspired -them in return. - -Trajan’s letters bespeak the polished gentleman no less than the -statesman. He was fond of society, and of educated and literary society. -He was proud of being known to associate with the learned, and felt -himself complimented when he bestowed on the rhetorician Dion the -compliment of carrying him in his own chariot. That such refinement of -taste was not incompatible with excess in the indulgences of the table -was the fault of the times, and more particularly of the habits of camp -life to which he had been accustomed. Intemperance was always a Roman -vice. - -The affability of the prince, and the freedom with which he exchanged -with his nobles all the offices of ordinary courtesy and hospitality, -bathing, supping, or hunting as an equal in their company, constituted -one of his greatest charms in the eyes of a jealous patriciate which had -seen its masters too often engrossed by the flatteries of freedmen and -still viler associates. - -But Trajan enjoyed also the distinction dear in Roman eyes of a fine -figure and a noble countenance. In stature he exceeded the common -height, and on public occasions, when he loved to walk bareheaded in the -midst of the senators, his gray hairs gleamed conspicuously above the -crowd. His features, as we may trace them unmistakably on his -innumerable busts and medals, were regular; and his face was the last of -the imperial series that retained the true Roman type--not in the -aquiline nose only, but in the broad and low forehead, the angular chin, -the firm, compressed lips, and generally in the stern compactness of its -structure. - -The thick and straight-cut hair, smoothed over the brow without a curl -or parting, marks the simplicity of the man’s character in a voluptuous -age which delighted in the culture of flowing or frizzed locks. But the -most interesting characteristic of the figure I have so vividly before -me is the look of painful thought, which seems to indicate a constant -sense of overwhelming responsibilities, honorably and bravely borne, -yet, notwithstanding much assumed cheerfulness and self-abandonment, -ever irritating the nerves and weighing upon the conscience. - - - - -THE ANTONINES. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Titus Antoninus Pius, born 86 A.D., mounted the throne 138, died - 161; Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, adopted son and successor of the - preceding, born 121 A.D., mounted the throne 161, died 180. The - first of the Antonines was born of a respectable family, settled in - Gaul, became pro-consul of Asia under Hadrian, afterward of a - division of Italy, and was selected by Hadrian as his successor on - account of his ability and virtues. Marcus Aurelius was - distinguished not only as general and administrator, as a ruler of - the most exemplary and noble character, but his name has descended - to modern ages as that of the royal philosopher. His “Meditations” - constitute one of the Roman classics.] - - -Under Hadrian’s reign the empire flourished in peace and prosperity. He -encouraged the arts, reformed the laws, assisted military discipline, -and visited all his provinces in person. His vast and active genius was -equally suited to the most enlarged views and the minute details of -civil policy. But the ruling passions of his soul were curiosity and -vanity. As they prevailed and as they were attracted by different -objects, Hadrian was by turns an excellent prince, a ridiculous sophist, -and a jealous tyrant. The general tenor of his conduct deserved praise -for its equity and moderation. Yet in the first days of his reign he put -to death four consular senators, his personal enemies, and men who had -been deemed worthy of empire; and the tediousness of a painful illness -at last made him peevish and cruel. - -The senate doubted whether they should pronounce him a god or a tyrant, -and the honors decreed to his memory were granted to the prayers of the -pious Antonines. The caprice of Hadrian influenced his choice of a -successor. After revolving in his mind several men of distinguished -merit whom he esteemed and hated, he adopted Ælius Verus, a gay and -voluptuous nobleman, recommended by uncommon beauty. But while Hadrian -was delighting himself with his own applause and the acclamations of the -soldiers, whose consent had been secured by an immense donative, the new -Cæsar was reft from imperial friendship by an untimely death. - -He left only one son. Hadrian recommended the boy to the gratitude of -the Antonines. He was adopted by Pius, and on the accession of Marcus -was invested with an equal share of sovereign power. Among the many -vices of this younger Verus, he possessed one virtue--a dutiful -reverence for his wiser colleague, to whom he willingly abandoned the -ruder cares of empire. The philosophic emperor dissembled his follies, -lamented his early death, and cast a decent veil over his memory. - -As soon as Hadrian’s caprice in friendship had been gratified or -disappointed, he resolved to deserve the thanks of posterity by placing -the most exalted merit on the Roman throne. His discerning eye easily -discovered a senator about fifty years of age, blameless in all the -offices of life, and a youth about seventeen, whose riper years opened -the fair prospect of every virtue. The elder of these was declared the -son and successor of Hadrian, on condition, however, that he himself -should immediately adopt the younger. The two Antonines (for it is of -them we are now speaking) governed the Roman world forty-two years with -the same invariable spirit of wisdom and virtue. - -Although Pius had two sons, he preferred the welfare of Rome to the -interests of his family; gave his daughter Faustina in marriage to young -Marcus, obtained from the senate the tribunitial and consular powers and -pro-consular powers, and with a noble disdain, or rather ignorance of -jealousy, associated him to all the labors of government. - -Marcus, on the other hand, revered the character of his benefactor, -loved him as a parent, obeyed him as his sovereign, and, after he was no -more, regulated his own administration by the example and maxims of his -predecessor. Their united reigns are possibly the only period in history -in which the happiness of a great people was the sole object of -government. - -Titus Antoninus Pius has been justly denominated a second Numa. The same -love of religion, justice, and peace was the distinguishing -characteristic of both princes. But the situation of the latter opened a -much larger field for the exercise of these virtues. Numa could only -prevent a few neighboring villages from plundering each other’s -harvests. Antoninus diffused order and tranquillity over the greater -part of the earth. His reign is marked by the rare advantage of -furnishing very few materials for history; which is, indeed, little more -than the register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind. - -In private life he was an amiable as well as a good man. The native -simplicity of his virtue was a stranger to vanity or affectation. He -enjoyed with moderation the conveniences of his fortune and the innocent -pleasures of society; and the benevolence of his soul displayed itself -in a cheerful serenity of temper. - -The virtue of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus was of a severer and more -laborious kind. It was the well-earned harvest of many a learned -conference, of many a patient lecture, and many a midnight lucubration. -At the age of twelve years he embraced the rigid doctrines of the -Stoics, which taught him to submit his body to his mind, his passions to -his reason; to consider virtue as the only good, vice as the only evil, -all things external as things indifferent. His “Meditations,” composed -in the tumult of a camp, are still extant; and he even condescended to -give lessons on philosophy in a more public manner than was perhaps -consistent with the modesty of a sage or the dignity of an emperor. But -his life was the noblest commentary on the philosophy of Zeno. - -He was severe to himself, indulgent to the imperfections of others, just -and beneficent to all mankind. He regretted that the death of Ovidius -Cassius, who excited a rebellion in Syria, had disappointed him, by a -voluntary death, of the pleasure of converting an enemy into a friend; -and he justified the sincerity of that statement by moderating the zeal -of the senate against the adherents of the traitor. - -War he detested as the disgrace and calamity of human nature; but when -the necessity of a just defense called on him to take up arms, he -readily exposed his person to eight winter campaigns on the frozen banks -of the Danube, the severity of which was at last fatal to the weakness -of his constitution. His memory was revered by a grateful posterity, and -above a century after his death, many persons preserved the image of -Marcus Antoninus among those of their household gods. - -If a man were called on to fix the period in the history of the world -during which the condition of the human race was most happy and -prosperous he would, without hesitation, name that which elapsed from -the death of Domitian to the accession of Commodus. The vast extent of -the Roman Empire was governed by absolute power under the guidance of -virtue and wisdom. The armies were restrained by the firm but gentle -hand of five successive emperors, whose characters and authority -commanded universal respect. - -The forms of the civil administration were carefully preserved by Nerva, -Trajan, Hadrian, and the Antonines, who delighted in the image of -liberty, and were pleased with considering themselves as the accountable -ministers of the laws. Such princes deserved the honor of restoring the -republic had the Romans of their days been capable of enjoying a -rational freedom. The labors of these monarchs were overpaid by the -immense reward that inseparably waited on their success, by the honest -pride of virtue, and by the exquisite delight of beholding the general -happiness of which they were the authors. - - - - -ZENOBIA, QUEEN OF PALMYRA. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Septimia Zenobia, of mixed Greek and Arab descent, dates of birth - and death doubtful. Twice married, she reached through her second - husband, Odenathus, Prince of Palmyra, a field for the exercise of - her great talents. She aspired to be Empress of Western Asia after - her husband’s death, and only succumbed to the superior genius or - fortune of Aurelian, the Roman Emperor. The unsuccessful issue of - two pitched battles and two sieges placed her in the power of Rome - (273 A.D.). The clemency of the victor, though it made the captive - an ornament of his triumph, loaded her with wealth and kindness, - while it relegated her to a private station.] - - -Modern Europe has produced several illustrious women who have sustained -with glory the weight of empire; nor is our own age destitute of such -distinguished characters. But if we except the doubtful achievements of -Semiramis, Zenobia is perhaps the only female whose superior genius -broke through the servile indolence imposed on her sex by the habits and -climate of Asia. She claimed her descent from the Macedonian kings of -Egypt, equaled in beauty her ancestor Cleopatra, and far surpassed that -princess in chastity and valor. - -Zenobia was esteemed the most lovely as well as the most heroic of her -sex. She was of a dark complexion (for in speaking of a lady these -trifles become important); her teeth were of a pearly whiteness; and her -large black eyes sparkled with uncommon fire tempered by the most -attractive sweetness. Her voice was strong and harmonious. Her manly -understanding was strengthened and adorned by study. She was not -ignorant of the Latin tongue, but possessed in equal perfection the -Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. She had drawn up for her -own use an epitome of Oriental history, and familiarly compared the -beauties of Homer and Plato under the tuition of the sublime Longinus. -This accomplished woman gave her hand to Odenathus, who from a private -station raised himself to the dominion of the East. She soon became the -friend and companion of a hero. In the intervals of war Odenathus -passionately delighted in the exercise of hunting. He pursued with ardor -the wild beasts of the desert--lions, panthers, and bears--and the ardor -of Zenobia in that dangerous amusement was not inferior to his own. She -had inured her constitution to fatigue, disdained the use of a covered -carriage, generally appeared on horseback in a military habit, and -sometimes marched several miles on foot at the head of the troops. - -The success of Odenathus was in great measure ascribed to her -incomparable prudence and fortitude. Their splendid victories over the -Great King, whom they twice pursued as far as the gates of Ctesiphon, -laid the foundation of their united fame and power. The armies which -they commanded and the provinces which they had saved acknowledged not -any other sovereigns than their invincible chiefs. The senate and people -of Rome revered a stranger who had avenged their captive emperor, and -even the insensible son of Valerian accepted Odenathus for his -legitimate colleague. - -After a successful expedition against the Gothic plunderers of Asia the -Palmyrenian prince returned to the city of Emesa in Syria. Invincible in -war, he was there cut off by domestic treason, and his favorite -amusement of hunting was the cause, or at least the occasion, of his -death. His nephew Mæonius presumed to dart his javelin before that of -his uncle; and, though admonished of his error, repeated his insolence. -As a monarch and as a sportsman Odenathus was provoked, took away his -horse--a mark of ignominy among barbarians--and chastised his rash youth -by a short confinement. The offense was soon forgot, but the punishment -was remembered; and Mæonius, with a few daring associates, assassinated -his uncle in the midst of a great entertainment. Herod, the son of -Odenathus, though not of Zenobia, a young man of soft and effeminate -temper, was killed with his father. But Mæonius obtained only the -pleasures of revenge by this bloody deed. He had scarcely time to assume -the title of Augustus before he was sacrificed by Zenobia to the memory -of her husband. With the assistance of his most faithful friends she -immediately filled the vacant throne and governed with manly counsels -Palmyra, Syria, and the East above five years. By the death of -Odenathus, that authority was at an end which the senate had granted -him only as a personal distinction; but his widow, disdaining both the -senate and Gallienus, obliged one of the Roman generals who was sent -against her to retreat into Europe with the loss of his army and his -reputation. - -Instead of the little passions which so frequently perplex a female -reign, the administration of Zenobia was guided by the most judicious -maxims of policy. If it was expedient to pardon, she could calm her -resentment; if it were necessary to punish, she could impose silence on -the voice of pity. Her strict economy was accused of avarice; yet on -every proper occasion she appeared magnificent and liberal. The -neighboring states of Arabia, Armenia, and Persia dreaded her enmity and -solicited her alliance. To the dominions of Odenathus, which extended -from the Euphrates to the frontiers of Bithynia, his widow added the -inheritance of her ancestors, the populous and fertile kingdom of Egypt. -The Emperor Claudius acknowledged her merit, and was content that while -_he_ pursued the Gothic war, _she_ should pursue the dignity of the -empire in the East. The conduct, however, of Zenobia was attended with -some ambiguity; nor is it unlikely that she had conceived the design of -erecting an independent and hostile monarchy. She blended with the -popular manners of Roman princes the stately pomp of the courts of Asia, -and exacted from her subjects the same adoration that was paid to the -successors of Cyrus. She bestowed on her three sons a Latin education, -and often showed them to the troops adorned with the imperial purple. -For herself she reserved the diadem with the splendid but doubtful title -of Queen of the East. - -When Aurelian passed over into Asia, against an adversary whose sex -alone could render her an object of contempt, his presence restored -obedience to the province of Bithynia, already shaken by the arts and -the arms of Zenobia. Advancing at the head of his legions, he accepted -the submission of Ancyra, and was admitted into Tyana after an obstinate -siege, by the help of a perfidious citizen. Zenobia would have ill -deserved her reputation had she indolently permitted the Emperor of the -West to approach within a hundred miles of her capital. The fate of the -East was decided in two great battles, so similar in almost every -circumstance that we can scarcely distinguish them from each other, -except by observing that the first was fought near Antioch and the -second near Emesa. After the defeat of Emesa Zenobia found it impossible -to collect a third army. Palmyra was the last resource of the widow of -Odenathus. She retired within the walls of her capital, made every -preparation for a vigorous resistance, and declared with the intrepidity -of a heroine that the last moment of her reign and of her life should be -the same. The siege of Palmyra was an object far more difficult and -important; and the emperor, who with incessant vigor pressed the attacks -in person, was himself wounded with a dart. “The Roman people,” says -Aurelian in an original letter, “speak with contempt of the war which I -am waging against a woman. They are ignorant both of the character and -power of Zenobia. It is impossible to enumerate her warlike preparations -of stones, of arrows, and of every species of missile weapons. Every -part of the walls is provided with two or three _balistæ_, and -artificial fires are thrown from her military engines. The fear of -punishment has armed her with a desperate courage. Yet still I trust in -the protecting deities of Rome, who have hitherto been favorable to all -my undertakings.” The firmness of Zenobia was supported by the hope that -in a very short time famine would compel the Roman army to repass the -desert. But from every part of Syria a regular succession of convoys -safely arrived in the camp, which was increased by the return of Probus -with his victorious troops from the conquest of Egypt. It was then that -Zenobia resolved to fly. She mounted the fleetest of her dromedaries, -and had already reached the banks of the Euphrates, about sixty miles -from Palmyra, when she was overtaken by the pursuit of Aurelian’s -light-horse, seized, and brought back a captive to the feet of the -emperor. Her capital soon afterward surrendered, and was treated with -unexpected lenity. - -When the Syrian queen was brought into the presence of Aurelian he -sternly asked her how she had presumed to rise in arms against the -Emperor of Rome? The answer of Zenobia was a prudent mixture of respect -and firmness: “Because I disdained to consider as Roman emperors an -Aureolus or a Gallienus. You alone I acknowledge as my conqueror and -sovereign.” - -However, in the treatment of his unfortunate rivals, Aurelian might -indulge his pride, he behaved toward them with a generous clemency which -was seldom exercised by the ancient conquerors. The emperor presented -Zenobia with an elegant villa at Tibur, or Tivoli, about twenty miles -from the capital. The Syrian queen insensibly sunk into a Roman matron, -her daughters married into noble families, and her race was not yet -extinct in the fifth century. - - - - -CONSTANTINE, THE FIRST CHRISTIAN EMPEROR. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Caius Flavius Valerius Aurelius Claudius, surnamed “the Great,” - born 272 A.D., died 337. He was the son of Constantine Chlorus, who - was appointed _Cæsar_, or lieutenant-emperor of the western part of - the empire which was divided between the two _Augusti_, or - emperors, Diocletian and Maximian. Constantine assumed the purple - of empire by acclamation of his legions while commanding in Britain - in 306. While leading his army to Rome to take possession of the - capital, the legend relates that Constantine saw a blazing cross in - the sky inscribed with [Greek: hen tohutph nhika], “In this - conquer.” Thenceforward the Christian symbol was inscribed on the - standards and shields of the army, and Christianity became - recognized as the state Church, though Constantine did not profess - the religion till his deathbed. In the year 323 he took the field - against his brother-in-law Licinius, Emperor of the East, and by - the defeat and execution of the latter he became sole ruler of the - reunited empire. Among the most important events of his reign were - the founding of the new capital of Constantinople (330) on the site - of Byzantium, and the first great general Christian council (325), - held at Nice, in Asia Minor. By the decision of the latter the - Athanasian Creed, embodying the doctrine of the Trinity, was made - the orthodox belief of the Church, and Arianism was condemned as - heresy. The character of Constantine was stained by suspicion and - cruelty, to which his father-in-law, his brother-in-law, his son, - and his wife successively fell victims.] - - -The character of the prince who removed the seat of empire and -introduced such important changes into the civil and religious -constitution of his country has fixed the attention and divided the -opinions of mankind. By the grateful zeal of the Christians, the -deliverer of the Church has been decorated with every attribute of a -hero, and even of a saint; while the discontent of the vanquished party -has compared Constantine to the most abhorred of those tyrants who, by -their vice and weakness, dishonored the imperial purple. The same -passions have in some degree been perpetuated to succeeding generations, -and the character of Constantine is considered, even in the present age, -as an object either of satire or of panegyric. By the impartial union of -those defects which are confessed by his warmest admirers and of those -virtues which are acknowledged by his most implacable enemies we might -hope to delineate a just portrait of that extraordinary man which the -truth and candor of history should adopt without a blush. But it would -soon appear that the vain attempt to blend such discordant colors and to -reconcile such inconsistent qualities must produce a figure monstrous -rather than human, unless it is viewed in its proper and distinct -lights, by a careful separation of the different periods of the reign of -Constantine. - -The person as well as the mind of Constantine had been enriched by -Nature with her choicest endowments. His stature was lofty, his -countenance majestic, his deportment graceful; his strength and -activity were displayed in every manly exercise, and from his earliest -youth to a very advanced season of life he preserved the vigor of his -constitution by a strict adherence to the domestic virtues of chastity -and temperance. He delighted in the social intercourse of familiar -conversation; and though he might sometimes indulge his disposition to -raillery with less reserve than was required by the severe dignity of -his station, the courtesy and liberality of his manners gained the -hearts of all who approached him. The sincerity of his friendship has -been suspected; yet he showed on some occasions that he was not -incapable of a warm and lasting attachment. The disadvantage of an -illiterate education had not prevented him from forming a just estimate -of the value of learning, and the arts and sciences derived some -encouragement from the munificent protection of Constantine. In the -dispatch of business, his diligence was indefatigable; and the active -powers of his mind were almost continually exercised in reading, -writing, or meditating, in giving audience to ambassadors, and in -examining the complaints of his subjects. Even those who censured the -propriety of his measures were compelled to acknowledge that he -possessed magnanimity to conceive and patience to execute the most -arduous designs without being checked either by the prejudices of -education or by the clamors of the multitude. In the field he infused -his own intrepid spirit into the troops, whom he conducted with the -talents of a consummate general; and to his abilities, rather than to -his fortune, we may ascribe the signal victories which he obtained over -the foreign and domestic foes of the republic. He loved glory as the -reward, perhaps as the motive of his labors. - -The boundless ambition which, from the moment of his accepting the -purple at York, appears as the ruling passion of his soul, may be -justified by the dangers of his own situation, by the character of his -rivals, by the consciousness of superior merit, and by the prospect that -his success would enable him to restore peace and order to the -distracted empire. In his civil wars against Maxentius and Licinius, he -had engaged on his side the inclinations of the people, who compared the -undissembled vices of those tyrants with the spirit of wisdom and -justice which seemed to direct the general tenor of the administration -of Constantine. - -Had Constantine fallen on the banks of the Tiber, or even in the plains -of Adrianople, such is the character which, with a few exceptions, he -might have transmitted to posterity. But the conclusion of his reign -(according to the moderate and indeed tender sentence of a writer of the -same age) degraded him from the rank which he had acquired among the -most deserving of the Roman princes. In the life of Augustus, we behold -the tyrant of the republic converted almost by imperceptible degrees -into the father of his country and of human kind. In that of -Constantine, we may contemplate a hero who had so long inspired his -subjects with love and his enemies with terror degenerating into a cruel -and dissolute monarch, corrupted by his fortune or raised by conquest -above the necessity of dissimulation. The general peace which he -maintained during the last fourteen years (A.D. 323-337) of his reign -was a period of apparent splendor rather than of real prosperity; and -the old age of Constantine was disgraced by the opposite yet -reconcilable vices of rapaciousness and prodigality. The accumulated -treasures found in the palaces of Maxentius and Licinius were lavishly -consumed; the various innovations introduced by the conqueror were -attended with an increasing expense; the cost of his buildings, his -court, and his festivals, required an immediate and plentiful supply; -and the oppression of the people was the only fund which could support -the magnificence of the sovereign. - -His unworthy favorites, enriched by the boundless liberality of their -master, usurped with impunity the privilege of rapine and corruption. A -secret but universal decay was felt in every part of the public -administration, and the emperor himself, though he still retained the -obedience, gradually lost the esteem of his subjects. The dress and -manners which, toward the decline of life, he chose to affect, served -only to degrade him in the eyes of mankind. The Asiatic pomp, which had -been adopted by the pride of Diocletian, assumed an air of softness and -effeminacy in the person of Constantine. He is represented with false -hair of various colors laboriously arranged by the skillful artists of -the times, a diadem of a new and more expensive fashion, a profusion of -gems and pearls, of collars and bracelets, and a variegated flowing robe -of silk, most curiously embroidered with flowers of gold. In such -apparel, scarcely to be excused by the youth and folly of Elagabalus, we -are at a loss to discover the wisdom of an aged monarch and the -simplicity of a Roman veteran. A mind thus relaxed by prosperity and -indulgence was incapable of rising to that magnanimity which disdains -suspicion and dares to forgive. The deaths of Maximian and Licinius may, -perhaps, be justified by the maxims of policy, as they are taught in the -schools of tyrants; but an impartial narrative of the executions, or -rather murders, which sullied the declining age of Constantine will -suggest to our most candid thoughts the idea of a prince who could -sacrifice without reluctance the laws of justice and the feelings of -nature to the dictates either of his passions or of his interest. - -The same fortune which so invariably followed the standard of -Constantine seemed to secure the hopes and comforts of his domestic -life. Those among his predecessors who had enjoyed the longest and most -prosperous reigns--Augustus, Trajan, and Diocletian--had been -disappointed of posterity; and the frequent revolutions had never -allowed sufficient time for any imperial family to grow up and multiply -under the shade of the purple. But the royalty of the Flavian line, -which had been first ennobled by the Gothic Claudius, descended through -several generations; and Constantine himself derived from his royal -father the hereditary honors which he transmitted to his children. -Besides the females and the allies of the Flavian house, ten or twelve -males, to whom the language of modern courts would apply the title of -princes of the blood, seemed, according to the order of their birth, to -be destined either to inherit or to support the throne of Constantine. -But in less than thirty years this numerous and increasing family was -reduced to the persons of Constantius and Julian, who alone had survived -a series of crimes and calamities such as the tragic poets have deplored -in the devoted lines of Pelops and of Cadmus. - - - - -JULIAN THE APOSTATE. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Flavius Claudius Julianus, born 331 A.D., died 363. He was the - nephew of Constantine, and was made _Cæsar_ by his cousin the - Emperor Constantius in 355. On the death of the latter, Julian - became sole emperor in 361. Though bred in the Christian faith, his - deep sympathy with the philosophy and letters of Greece, and his - aversion to the factional bigotry of the Christian sects, caused - him, on assuming the purple, to discard the doctrines of Christ, - and attempt the restitution of paganism.] - - -The retired scholastic education of Julian, in which he had been more -conversant with books than with arms, with the dead than with the -living, left him in profound ignorance of the practical arts of war and -government; and when he awkwardly repeated some military exercise which -it was necessary for him to learn, he exclaimed, with a sigh, “Oh Plato, -Plato, what a task for a philosopher!” Yet even this speculative -philosophy, which men of business are too apt to despise, had filled the -mind of Julian with the noblest precepts and the most shining examples; -had animated him with the love of virtue, the desire of fame, and the -contempt of death. The habits of temperance recommended in the schools -are still more essential in the severe discipline of a camp. The simple -wants of nature regulated the measure of his food and sleep. Rejecting -with disdain the delicacies provided for his table, he satisfied his -appetite with the coarse and common fare which was allotted to the -meanest soldiers. During the rigor of a Gallic winter he never suffered -a fire in his bed-chamber; and after a short and interrupted slumber, he -frequently rose in the middle of the night from a carpet spread on the -floor, to dispatch any urgent business, to visit his rounds, or to steal -a few moments for the prosecution of his favorite studies. - -The precepts of eloquence, which he had hitherto practiced on fancied -topics of declamation, were more usefully applied to excite or assuage -the passions of an armed multitude; and though Julian, from his early -habits of conversation and literature, was more familiarly acquainted -with the beauties of the Greek language, he had attained a competent -knowledge of the Latin tongue. Since Julian was not originally designed -for the character of a legislator or a judge, it is probable that the -civil jurisprudence of the Romans had not engaged any considerable share -of his attention; but he derived from his philosophic studies an -inflexible regard for justice, tempered by a disposition to clemency; -the knowledge of the general principles of equity and evidence; and the -faculty of patiently investigating the most intricate and tedious -questions which could be proposed for his discussion. The measures of -policy and the operations of war must submit to the various accidents of -circumstance and character, and the unpracticed student will often be -perplexed in the application of the most perfect theory. But, in the -acquisition of this important science, Julian was assisted by the active -vigor of his own genius, as well as by the wisdom and experience of -Sallust, an officer of rank, who soon conceived a sincere attachment for -a prince so worthy of his friendship; and whose incorruptible integrity -was adorned by the talent of insinuating the harshest truths, without -wounding the delicacy of a royal ear. - -Julian was not insensible of the advantages of freedom. From his studies -he had imbibed the spirit of ancient sages and heroes; his life and -fortunes had depended on the caprice of a tyrant, and when he ascended -the throne his pride was sometimes mortified by the reflection that the -slaves who would not dare to censure his defects were not worthy to -applaud his virtues. He sincerely abhorred the system of Oriental -despotism which Diocletian, Constantine, and the patient habits of -fourscore years had established in the empire. A motive of superstition -prevented the execution of the design which Julian had frequently -meditated, of relieving his head from the weight of a costly diadem; but -he absolutely refused the title of _Dominus_, or _Lord_--a word which -was grown so familiar to the ears of the Romans that they no longer -remembered its servile and humiliating origin. The office, or rather the -name, of consul was cherished by a prince who contemplated with -reverence the ruins of the republic; and the same behavior which had -been assumed by the prudence of Augustus was adopted by Julian from -choice and inclination. On the calends of January (A.D. 363, January -1st), at break of day, the new consuls, Mamertinus and Nevitta, hastened -to the palace to salute the emperor. As soon as he was informed of their -approach he leaped from his throne, eagerly advanced to meet them, and -compelled the blushing magistrates to receive the demonstrations of his -affected humility. From the palace they proceeded to the senate. The -emperor, on foot, marched before their litters; and the gazing multitude -admired the image of ancient times, or secretly blamed a conduct which, -in their eyes, degraded the majesty of the purple. But the behavior of -Julian was uniformly supported. During the games of the Circus he had, -imprudently or designedly, performed the manumission of a slave in the -presence of the consul. The moment he was reminded that he had -trespassed on the jurisdiction of _another_ magistrate, he condemned -himself to pay a fine of ten pounds of gold, and embraced this public -occasion of declaring to the world that he was subject, like the rest of -his fellow-citizens, to the laws, and even to the forms of the republic. -The spirit of his administration and his regard for the place of his -nativity induced Julian to confer on the senate of Constantinople the -same honors, privileges, and authority which were still enjoyed by the -senate of ancient Rome.[14] A legal fiction was introduced, and -gradually established, that one half of the national council had -migrated into the East; and the despotic successors of Julian, accepting -the title of senators, acknowledged themselves the members of a -respectable body which was permitted to represent the majesty of the -Roman name. From Constantinople, the attention of the monarch was -extended to the municipal senates of the provinces. He abolished, by -repeated edicts, the unjust and pernicious exemptions which had -withdrawn so many idle citizens from the service of their country; and, -by imposing an equal distribution of public duties, he restored the -strength, the splendor, or, according to the glowing expression of -Libanius, the soul of the expiring cities of his empire. The venerable -age of Greece excited the most tender compassion in the mind of Julian, -which kindled into rapture when he recollected the gods, the heroes, and -the men superior to heroes and to gods, who had bequeathed to the latest -posterity the monuments of their genius or the example of their virtues. -He relieved the distress, and restored the beauty of the cities of -Epirus and Peloponnesus. Athens acknowledged him for her benefactor; -Argos, for her deliverer. The pride of Corinth, again rising from her -ruins with the honors of a Roman colony, exacted a tribute from the -adjacent republics for the purpose of defraying the games of the -Isthmus, which were celebrated in the amphitheatre with the hunting of -bears and panthers. From this tribute the cities of Elis, of Delphi, and -of Argos, which had inherited from their remote ancestors the sacred -office of perpetuating the Olympic, the Pythian, and the Nemean games, -claimed a just exemption. The immunity of Elis and Delphi was respected -by the Corinthians, but the poverty of Argos tempted the insolence of -oppression, and the feeble complaints of its deputies were silenced by -the decree of a provincial magistrate, who seems to have consulted only -the interest of the capital in which he resided. Seven years after this -sentence Julian allowed the cause to be referred to a superior tribunal, -and his eloquence was interposed--most probably with success--in the -defense of a city which had been the royal seat of Agamemnon and had -given to Macedonia a race of kings and conquerors. - -The laborious administration of military and civil affairs, which were -multiplied in proportion to the extent of the empire, exercised the -abilities of Julian; but he frequently assumed the two characters of -orator and of judge, which are almost unknown to the modern sovereigns -of Europe. The arts of persuasion, so diligently cultivated by the first -Cæsars, were neglected by the military ignorance and Asiatic pride of -their successors; and if they condescended to harangue the soldiers, -whom they feared, they treated with silent disdain the senators, whom -they despised. The assemblies of the senate, which Constantius had -avoided, were considered by Julian as the place where he could exhibit, -with the most propriety, the maxims of a republican and the talents of a -rhetorician. He alternately practiced, as in a school of declamation, -the several modes of praise, of censure, of exhortation; and his friend -Libanius has remarked that the study of Homer taught him to imitate the -simple, concise style of Menelaus, the copiousness of Nestor, whose -words descended like the flakes of a winter’s snow, or the pathetic and -forcible eloquence of Ulysses. - -The functions of a judge, which are sometimes incompatible with those of -a prince, were exercised by Julian, not only as a duty, but as an -amusement; and, although he might have trusted the integrity and -discernment of his prætorian prefects, he often placed himself by their -side on the seat of judgment. The acute penetration of his mind was -agreeably occupied in detecting and defeating the chicanery of the -advocates, who labored to disguise the truth of facts and to pervert the -sense of the laws. He sometimes forgot the gravity of his station, asked -indiscreet or unseasonable questions, and betrayed, by the loudness of -his voice and the agitation of his body, the earnest vehemence with -which he maintained his opinion against the judges, the advocates, and -their clients. But his knowledge of his own temper prompted him to -encourage, and even to solicit, the reproof of his friends and -ministers; and whenever they ventured to oppose the irregular sallies of -his passions, the spectators could observe the shame, as well as the -gratitude, of their monarch. The decrees of Julian were almost always -founded on the principles of justice; and he had the firmness to resist -the two most dangerous temptations which assault the tribunal of a -sovereign, under the specious forms of compassion and equity. He decided -the merits of the cause without weighing the circumstances of the -parties; and the poor, whom he wished to relieve, were condemned to -satisfy the just demands of a noble and wealthy adversary. He carefully -distinguished the judge from the legislator; and, though he meditated a -necessary reformation of the Roman jurisprudence, he pronounced sentence -according to the strict and literal interpretation of those laws which -the magistrates were bound to execute and the subjects to obey. - -The generality of princes, if they were stripped of their purple and -cast naked into the world, would immediately sink to the lowest rank of -society, without a hope of emerging from their obscurity. But the -personal merit of Julian was, in some measure, independent of his -fortune. Whatever had been his choice of life, by the force of intrepid -courage, lively wit, and intense application, he would have obtained, or -at least he would have deserved, the highest honors of his profession; -and Julian might have raised himself to the rank of minister, or -general, of the state in which he was born a private citizen. If the -jealous caprice of power had disappointed his expectations, if he had -prudently declined the paths of greatness, the employment of the same -talents in studious solitude would have placed beyond the reach of kings -his present happiness and his immortal fame. When we inspect with -minute, or perhaps malevolent attention the portrait of Julian, -something seems wanting to the grace and perfection of the whole figure. -His genius was less powerful and sublime than that of Cæsar; nor did he -possess the consummate prudence of Augustus. The virtues of Trajan -appear more steady and natural, and the philosophy of Marcus is more -simple and consistent. Yet Julian sustained adversity with firmness, and -prosperity with moderation. After an interval of one hundred and twenty -years from the death of Alexander Severus, the Romans beheld an emperor -who made no distinction between his duties and his pleasures; who -labored to relieve the distress and to revive the spirit of his -subjects; and who endeavored always to connect authority with merit, and -happiness with virtue. Even faction, and religious faction, was -constrained to acknowledge the superiority of his genius, in peace as -well as in war; and to confess, with a sigh, that the apostate Julian -was a lover of his country, and that he deserved the empire of the -world. - -The character of apostate has injured the reputation of Julian, and the -enthusiasm which clouded his virtues has exaggerated the real and -apparent magnitude of his faults. The vehement zeal of the Christians, -who despised the worship, and overturned the altars of those fabulous -deities, engaged their votary in a state of irreconcilable hostility -with a very numerous party of his subjects; and he was sometimes -tempted, by the desire of victory or the shame of a repulse, to violate -the laws of prudence, and even of justice. The triumph of the party -which he deserted and opposed, has fixed a stain of infamy on the name -of Julian; and the unsuccessful apostate has been overwhelmed with a -torrent of pious invectives, of which the signal was given by the -sonorous trumpet of Gregory Nazianzen.[15] - - - - -THEODOSIUS THE GREAT. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Born in Spain, about 346 A.D., of a Visigothic family, and died - 395. He was made _Augustus_, or co-Emperor of the West, by Gratian, - in 379, but became by his great abilities the practical ruler of - the two empires, with his imperial seat at Constantinople. - Theodosius twice reconquered the West, where usurpers had made - successful revolt, and became the acknowledged master of the whole - Roman world. He was the last great emperor who shone brightly by - his genius for military affairs and his skill in civil - administration. Theodosius became so dear to the Catholic heart by - his persecution of the Arian heretics that he was afterward - canonized. At his death the empire was again divided, falling to - his sons, Honorius and Arcadius.] - - -The same province, and, perhaps, the same city, which had given to the -throne the virtues of Trajan and the talents of Hadrian, was the -original seat of another family of Spaniards, who, in a less fortunate -age, possessed, near fourscore years, the declining Empire of Rome. They -emerged from the obscurity of municipal honors by the active spirit of -the elder Theodosius--a general whose exploits in Britain and Africa -have formed one of the most splendid parts of the annals of -Valentinian.[16] The son of that general, who likewise bore the name of -Theodosius, was educated, by skillful preceptors, in the liberal studies -of youth; but he was instructed in the art of war by the tender care and -severe discipline of his father. Under the standard of such a leader, -young Theodosius sought glory and knowledge in the most distant scenes -of military action; inured his constitution to the difference of seasons -and climates; distinguished his valor by sea and land; and observed the -various warfare of the Scots, the Saxons, and the Moors. His own merit, -and the recommendation of the conqueror of Africa, soon raised him to a -separate command; and, in the station of Duke of Mæsia, he vanquished an -army of Sarmatians, saved a province, deserved the love of the soldiers, -and provoked the envy of the court. His rising fortunes were soon -blasted by the disgrace and execution of his illustrious father; and -Theodosius obtained, as a favor, the permission of retiring to a private -life in his native province of Spain. He displayed a firm and temperate -character in the ease with which he adapted himself to this new -situation. His time was almost equally divided between the town and -country; the spirit which had animated his public conduct was shown in -the active and affectionate performance of every social duty; and the -diligence of the soldier was profitably converted to the improvement of -his ample patrimony, which lay between Valladolid and Segovia, in the -midst of a fruitful district, still famous for a most exquisite breed of -sheep. From the innocent, but humble labors of his farm, Theodosius was -transported, in less than four months, to the throne of the Eastern -Empire; and the whole period of the history of the world will not -perhaps afford a similar example of an elevation at the same time so -pure and so honorable. - -The princes who peaceably inherit the scepter of their fathers claim and -enjoy a legal right, the more secure as it is absolutely distinct from -the merits of their personal characters. The subjects who, in a monarchy -or a popular state, acquire the possession of supreme power may have -raised themselves, by the superiority either of genius or virtue, above -the heads of their equals; but their virtue is seldom exempt from -ambition, and the cause of the successful candidate is frequently -stained by the guilt of conspiracy or civil war. Even in those -governments which allow the reigning monarch to declare a colleague, or -a successor, his partial choice, which may be influenced by the blindest -passions, is often directed to an unworthy object. But the most -suspicious malignity can not ascribe to Theodosius, in his obscure -solitude of Caucha, the arts, the desires, or even the hopes, of an -ambitious statesman; and the name of the exile would long since have -been forgotten if his genuine and distinguished virtues had not left a -deep impression in the imperial court. During the season of prosperity -he had been neglected, but in the public distress his superior merit was -universally felt and acknowledged. What confidence must have been -reposed in his integrity, since Gratian could trust that a pious son -would forgive, for the sake of the republic, the murder of his father! -What expectations must have been formed of his abilities, to encourage -the hope that a single man could save and restore the Empire of the -East! Theodosius was invested with the purple in the thirty-third year -of his age. The vulgar gazed with admiration on the manly beauty of his -face and the graceful majesty of his person, which they were pleased to -compare with the pictures and medals of the Emperor Trajan; while -intelligent observers discovered, in the qualities of his heart and -understanding, a more important resemblance to the best and greatest of -the Roman princes. - -The orator, who may be silent without danger, may praise without -difficulty and without reluctance; and posterity will confess that the -character of Theodosius might furnish the subject of a sincere and ample -panegyric. The wisdom of his laws and the success of his arms rendered -his administration respectable in the eyes both of his subjects and of -his enemies. He loved and practiced the virtues of domestic life, which -seldom hold their residence in the palaces of kings. Theodosius was -chaste and temperate; he enjoyed without excess the sensual and social -pleasures of the table, and the warmth of his amorous passions was never -diverted from their lawful objects. The proud titles of imperial -greatness were adorned by the tender names of a faithful husband, an -indulgent father; his uncle was raised, by his affectionate esteem, to -the rank of a second parent. Theodosius embraced as his own the children -of his brother and sister, and the expressions of his regard were -extended to the most distant and obscure branches of his numerous -kindred. His familiar friends were judiciously selected from among those -persons who, in the equal intercourse of private life, had appeared -before his eyes without a mask; the consciousness of personal and -superior merit enabled him to despise the accidental distinction of the -purple; and he proved by his conduct that he had forgotten all the -injuries while he most gratefully remembered all the favors and services -which he had received before he ascended the throne of the Roman Empire. -The serious or lively tone of his conversation was adapted to the age, -the rank, or the character of his subjects whom he admitted into his -society, and the affability of his manners displayed the image of his -mind. Theodosius respected the simplicity of the good and virtuous; -every art, every talent of a useful, or even of an innocent nature, was -rewarded by his judicious liberality; and, except the heretics, whom he -persecuted with implacable hatred, the diffusive circle of his -benevolence was circumscribed only by the limits of the human race. - -The government of a mighty empire may assuredly suffice to occupy the -time and the abilities of a mortal; yet the diligent prince, without -aspiring to the unsuitable reputation of profound learning, always -reserved some moments of his leisure for the instructive amusement of -reading. History, which enlarged his experience, was his favorite study. -The annals of Rome, in the long period of eleven hundred years, -presented him with a various and splendid picture of human life; and it -has been particularly observed that whenever he perused the cruel acts -of Cinna, of Marius, or of Sylla, he warmly expressed his generous -detestation of those enemies of humanity and freedom. His disinterested -opinion of past events was usefully applied as the rule of his own -actions; and Theodosius has deserved the singular commendation that his -virtues always seemed to expand with his fortune--the season of his -prosperity was that of his moderation; and his clemency appeared the -most conspicuous after the danger and success of the civil war. The -Moorish guards of the tyrant had been massacred in the first heat of the -victory, and a small number of the most obnoxious criminals suffered the -punishment of the law. But the emperor showed himself much more -attentive to relieve the innocent than to chastise the guilty. The -oppressed subjects of the West, who would have deemed themselves happy -in the restoration of their lands, were astonished to receive a sum of -money equivalent to their losses; and the liberality of the conqueror -supported the aged mother and educated the orphan daughters of Maximus. -A character thus accomplished might almost excuse the extravagant -supposition of the orator Pacatus, that, if the elder Brutus could be -permitted to revisit the earth, the stern republican would abjure, at -the feet of Theodosius, his hatred of kings, and ingenuously confess -that such a monarch was the most faithful guardian of the happiness and -dignity of the Roman people. - -Yet the piercing eye of the founder of the republic must have discerned -two essential imperfections, which might, perhaps, have abated his -recent love of despotism. The virtuous mind of Theodosius was often -relaxed by indolence, and it was sometimes inflamed by passion. In the -pursuit of an important object, his active courage was capable of the -most vigorous exertions; but, as soon as the design was accomplished, or -the danger was surmounted, the hero sunk into inglorious repose; and, -forgetful that the time of a prince is the property of his people, -resigned himself to the enjoyment of the innocent but trifling pleasures -of a luxurious court. The natural disposition of Theodosius was hasty -and choleric; and, in a station where none could resist and few would -dissuade the fatal consequence of his resentment, the humane monarch was -justly alarmed by the consciousness of his infirmity and of his power. -It was the constant study of his life to suppress or regulate the -intemperate sallies of passion; and the success of his efforts enhanced -the merit of his clemency. But the painful virtue which claims the merit -of victory is exposed to the danger of defeat; and the reign of a wise -and merciful prince was polluted by an act of cruelty which would stain -the annals of Nero or Domitian. Within the space of three years, the -inconsistent historian of Theodosius must relate the generous pardon of -the citizens of Antioch and the inhuman massacre of the people of -Thessalonica.[17] - - - - -ATTILA, THE SCOURGE OF GOD. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [King of the Huns, the Etzel of German epic and legend, one of the - greatest conquerors known to history. Date of birth unknown, that - of death about 454 A.D. The dominion to which he succeeded included - the Northern tribes from the Rhine to the Volga. At different times - he ravaged the whole of Europe, and more than once threatened to - extirpate Western civilization. The defeat which he suffered at the - hands of the Roman general Ætius on the plains of Châlons-sur-Marne - checked his power, and was probably the most murderous battle ever - fought in Europe. Attila died from the bursting of an artery after - a night of debauch, the occasion of the last espousal that swelled - the army of his countless wives. By some of the chroniclers he is - supposed to have been the victim of the newly married wife’s - treachery. He was buried in triple coffins of iron, silver, and - gold.] - - -Attila, the son of Mundzuk, deduced his noble, perhaps his regal descent -from the ancient Huns, who had formerly contended with the monarchs of -China. His features, according to the observation of a Gothic historian, -bore the stamp of his national origin; and the portrait of Attila -exhibits the genuine deformity of a modern Calmuck; a large head, a -swarthy complexion, small, deep-seated eyes, a flat nose, a few hairs in -the place of a beard, broad shoulders, and a short, square body, of -nervous strength, though of a disproportioned form. The haughty step and -demeanor of the king of the Huns expressed the consciousness of his -superiority above the rest of mankind; and he had a custom of fiercely -rolling his eyes, as if he wished to enjoy the terror which he inspired. -Yet this savage hero was not inaccessible to pity; his suppliant enemies -might confide in the assurance of peace or pardon; and Attila was -considered by his subjects as a just and indulgent master. He delighted -in war; but, after he had ascended the throne in a mature age, his head -rather than his hand achieved the conquest of the North; and the fame -of an adventurous soldier was usefully exchanged for that of a prudent -and successful general. The effects of personal valor are so -inconsiderable, except in poetry or romance, that victory, even among -barbarians, must depend upon the degree of skill with which the passions -of the multitude are combined and guided for the service of a single -man. The Scythian conquerors, Attila and Zingis, surpassed their rude -countrymen in art rather than in courage; and it may be observed that -the monarchies, both of the Huns and of the Moguls, were erected by -their founders on the basis of popular superstition. The miraculous -conception which fraud and credulity ascribed to the virgin mother of -Zingis raised him above the level of human nature; and the naked prophet -who, in the name of the Deity, invested him with the empire of the -earth, pointed the valor of the Moguls with irresistible enthusiasm. The -religious arts of Attila were not less skillfully adapted to the -character of his age and country. It was natural enough that the -Scythians should adore with peculiar devotion the god of war; but as -they were incapable of forming either an abstract idea or a corporeal -representation, they worshiped their tutelar deity under the symbol of -an iron cimeter. One of the shepherds of the Huns perceived that a -heifer who was grazing had wounded herself in the foot, and curiously -followed the track of the blood till he discovered among the long grass -the point of an ancient sword, which he dug out of the ground and -presented to Attila. - -That magnanimous or rather that artful prince accepted with pious -gratitude this celestial favor, and, as the rightful possessor of the -_sword of Mars_, asserted his divine and indefeasible claim to the -dominion of the earth. If the rites of Scythia were practiced on this -solemn occasion, a lofty altar, or rather a pile of faggots, three -hundred yards in length and in breadth, was raised in a spacious plain, -and the sword of Mars was placed erect on the summit of this rustic -altar, which was annually consecrated by the blood of sheep, horses, -and of the one hundredth captive. Whether human sacrifices formed any -part of the worship of Attila, or whether he propitiated the god of war -with the victims which he continually offered in the field of battle, -the favorite of Mars soon acquired a sacred character, which rendered -his conquests more easy and more permanent; and the barbarian princes -confessed, in the language of devotion or flattery, that they could not -presume to gaze with a steady eye on the divine majesty of the king of -the Huns. His brother, Bleda, who reigned over a considerable part of -the nation, was compelled to resign his scepter and his life. Yet even -this cruel act was attributed to a supernatural impulse; and the vigor -with which Attila wielded the sword of Mars convinced the world that it -had been reserved alone for his invincible arm. But the extent of his -empire affords the only remaining evidence of the number and importance -of his victories; and the Scythian monarch, however ignorant of the -value of science and philosophy, might perhaps lament that his -illiterate subjects were destitute of the art which could perpetuate the -memory of his exploits. - -If a line of separation were drawn between the civilized and the savage -climates of the globe, between the inhabitants of cities who cultivated -the earth and the hunters and shepherds who dwelt in tents, Attila might -aspire to the title of supreme and sole monarch of the barbarians. He -alone among the conquerors of ancient and modern times united the two -mighty kingdoms of Germany and Scythia; and those vague appellations, -when they are applied to his reign, may be understood with an ample -latitude. Thuringia, which stretched beyond its actual limits as far as -the Danube, was in the number of his provinces; he interposed, with the -weight of a powerful neighbor, in the domestic affairs of the Franks; -and one of his lieutenants chastised and almost exterminated the -Burgundians of the Rhine. He subdued the islands of the ocean, the -kingdoms of Scandinavia, encompassed and divided by the waters of the -Baltic; and the Huns might derive a tribute of furs from that northern -region which has been protected from all other conquerors by the -severity of the climate and the courage of the natives. Toward the East, -it is difficult to circumscribe the dominion of Attila over the Scythian -deserts; yet we may be assured that he reigned on the banks of the -Volga; that the king of the Huns was dreaded, not only as a warrior but -as a magician; that he insulted and vanquished the Khan of the -formidable Geougen; and that he sent ambassadors to negotiate an equal -alliance with the Empire of China. - -In the proud review of the nations who acknowledged the sovereignty of -Attila, and who never entertained during his lifetime the thought of a -revolt, the Gepidæ and the Ostrogoths were distinguished by their -numbers, their bravery, and the personal merit of their chiefs. The -renowned Ardaric, king of the Gepidæ, was the faithful and sagacious -counselor of the monarch, who esteemed his intrepid genius, while he -loved the mild and discreet virtues of the noble Walamir, king of the -Ostrogoths. The crowd of vulgar kings, the leaders of so many martial -tribes who served under the standard of Attila, were ranged in the -submissive order of guards and domestics round the person of their -master. They watched his nod, they trembled at his frown, and at the -first signal of his will they executed, without murmur or hesitation, -his stern and absolute commands. In time of peace, the dependent -princes, with their national troops, attended the royal camp in regular -succession; but when Attila collected his military force he was able to -bring into the field an army of five, or, according to another account, -of seven hundred thousand barbarians. - -In all their invasions of the civilized empires of the South, the -Scythian shepherds have been uniformly actuated by a savage and -destructive spirit. The laws of war, that restrain the exercise of -national rapine and murder, are founded on two principles of substantial -interest; the knowledge of the permanent benefits which may be obtained -by a moderate use of conquest, and a just apprehension lest the -desolation which we inflict on the enemy’s country may be retaliated on -our own. But these considerations of hope and fear are almost unknown in -the pastoral state of nations. The Huns of Attila may, without -injustice, be compared to the Moguls and Tartars before their primitive -manners were changed by religion and luxury; and the evidence of -Oriental history may reflect some light on the short and imperfect -annals of Rome. After the Moguls had subdued the northern provinces of -China, it was seriously proposed, not in the hour of victory and -passion, but in calm, deliberate council, to exterminate all the -inhabitants of that populous country, that the vacant land might be -converted to the pasture of cattle. The firmness of a Chinese mandarin, -who insinuated some principles of rational policy into the mind of -Zingis, diverted him from the execution of this horrid design. But in -the cities of Asia, which yielded to the Moguls, the inhuman abuse of -the rights of war was exercised with a regular form of discipline which -may with equal reason, though not with equal authority, be imputed to -the victorious Huns. The inhabitants, who had submitted to their -discretion, were ordered to evacuate their houses, and to assemble in -some plain adjacent to the city, where a division was made of the -vanquished into three parts. The first class consisted of the soldiers -of the garrison and of the young men capable of bearing arms, and their -fate was instantly decided; they were either enlisted among the Moguls, -or they were massacred on the spot by the troops, who, with pointed -spears and bended bows, had formed a circle round the captive multitude. -The second class, composed of the young and beautiful women, of the -artificers of every rank and profession, and of the more wealthy or -honorable citizens, from whom a private ransom might be expected, was -distributed in equal or proportionable lots. The remainder, whose life -or death was alike useless to the conquerors, were permitted to return -to the city--which, in the mean while, had been stripped of its valuable -furniture--and a tax was imposed on those wretched inhabitants for the -indulgence of breathing their native air. Such was the behavior of the -Moguls when they were not conscious of any extraordinary rigor. But the -most casual provocation, the slightest motive, of caprice or -convenience, often provoked them to involve a whole people in an -indiscriminate massacre; and the ruin of some flourishing cities was -executed with such unrelenting perseverance that, according to their own -expression, horses might run without stumbling over the ground where -they had once stood. The three great capitals of Khorasan, Maru, -Neisabour, and Herat were destroyed by the armies of Zingis; and the -exact account which was taken of the slain amounted to 4,347,000 -persons. Timur, or Tamerlane, was educated in a less barbarous age, and -in the profession of the Mohammedan religion; yet if Attila equaled the -hostile ravages of Tamerlane, either the Tartar or the Hun might deserve -the title of “the Scourge of God.” - - - - -BELISARIUS. - -BY LORD MAHON. - - [Born about 505 A.D., of Slavonic descent, died 565. He rose from a - soldier in the imperial guard to the supreme command of the - Byzantine armies. For thirty years the glory and bulwark of the - Greek empire, his genius for war has been rarely surpassed, and the - field of his triumphs extended from Persia to Italy and Northern - Africa. In spite of his priceless services to his sovereign, the - envious and treacherous Justinian was careful to deprive him of - power and place, when the empire could spare his genius at the head - of its armies. His name has become a synonym for loyalty that no - ingratitude could shake. He died in poverty and obscurity, though - it was in his power any time during a score of years to snatch the - purple from his unworthy master.] - - -In person Belisarius was tall and commanding, and presented a remarkable -contrast to the dwarfish and ungainly aspect of his rival Narses. His -features were regular and noble, and his appearance in the streets of -Constantinople after the Vandal and Gothic victories never failed to -attract the admiration of the people. His character may not unaptly be -compared to that of Marlborough, whom he equaled in talents and closely -resembled in his uxoriousness and love of money. As a military leader he -was enterprising, firm, and fearless; his conception was clear, and his -judgment rapid and decisive. His conquests were achieved with smaller -means than any other of like extent recorded in history. He frequently -experienced reverses in the field, but in no case did he fail without -some strong and sufficient reason for his failure, such as the mutiny of -his soldiers, the overwhelming number of his antagonists, or his total -want of necessary supplies; and it may be observed of him, as of -Arminius, that sometimes beaten in battle he was never overcome in war. -His superior tactics covered his defeats, retrieved his losses, and -prevented his enemies from reaping the fruits of victory; and it is -particularly mentioned that even in the most dangerous emergencies he -never lost his presence of mind. - -Among the circumstances which contributed most strongly to his success -were the kindness which his adversaries met with at his hands, and the -strict discipline which he maintained among his soldiers. The moderation -of Belisarius appears the more entitled to praise from the fierceness -and disorder usual in his age. It was his first care after every victory -to extend mercy and protection to the vanquished, and to shield their -persons and, if possible, their property from injury. During a march the -trampling of the corn-fields by the cavalry was carefully avoided, and -the troops, as Procopius tells us, seldom ventured even to gather an -apple from the trees, while a ready payment to the villagers for any -provisions that they bought made them bless the name of Belisarius and -secured to the Roman camp a plentiful supply. To the soldiers who -transgressed these rules the general was stern and unforgiving; no rank -could defy, no obscurity could elude his justice; and, because he -punished severely, he had to punish but seldom. But while the licentious -and turbulent were repressed by the strong arm of Belisarius, his -liberality cheered and animated the deserving. The gift of a gold -bracelet or collar rewarded any achievement in battle; the loss of a -horse or weapon was immediately supplied out of his private funds, and -the wounded found in him a father and a friend. His private virtues -promoted and confirmed the discipline of his men; none ever saw him -overcome with wine, and the charms of the fairest captives from the -Goths or Vandals could not overcome his conjugal fidelity. - -But the most striking and peculiar feature in the character of -Belisarius, as compared with that of other illustrious generals, was his -enduring and unconquerable loyalty. He was doubtless bound to Justinian -by many ties of gratitude, and the suspicion entertained of him in -Africa may be considered as fully counterbalanced by the triumph and -other honors which awaited his return. But from the siege of Ravenna -till his final departure from Italy he was, almost without intermission, -exposed to the most galling and unworthy treatment; he was insulted, -degraded, and despised; he was even attacked in his fame, when restored -to an important station, without any means for discharging its duties -and for sustaining his former reputation. It would be difficult to -repeat another instance of such signal and repeated ingratitude unless -in republics, where from the very nature of the government no crime is -so dangerous or so well punished as serving the state too well. When we -consider the frequency and therefore the ease of revolutions in this -age, the want of hereditary right in the imperial family, the strong -attachment of the soldiers to their victorious general, while the person -of Justinian was hateful even to his own domestic guards, it will, I -think, be admitted that a rebellion by Belisarius must have proved -successful and secure. On no occasion was he roused into the slightest -mark of disobedience or resentment; he bore every injury with unchanged -submission; he resisted the feelings of indignation, of revenge, of -self-interest, and even the thirst for glory, which, according to -Tacitus, is of all frailties the longest retained by the wise. Besides -him, no more than six generals have been named by one of our most -judicious critics as having deserved, without having worn a crown;[18] -and the smallness of this number should display the difficulty of -withstanding this brilliant temptation and enhance the reputation of -those who have withstood it. - -The chief fault of Belisarius seems to have been his unbounded deference -and submission to his wife, which rendered him strangely blind and -afterward weakly forgiving to her infidelity. But its mischievous -effects were not confined to private life, and nearly all the errors -which can be charged upon his public career are imputed to this cause. -It was Antonina who assumed the principal part in the deposition of the -Pope, who urged the death of Constantine, who promoted the prosecution -of Photius; and in his whole conduct with regard to that worthless woman -Belisarius appears alternately the object of censure or ridicule. His -confidence in her must have tended to lower his official character, to -fetter and mislead his judgment, and to prevent his justice and -impartiality whenever her passions were concerned. The second reproach -to which the character of Belisarius appears liable is that of rapacity -in the latter part of his career. How highly would his fame have been -exalted by an honorable poverty, and how much would the animosity of his -enemies at court have abated, had they seen no spoils to gather from his -fall! - -The life of Belisarius produced most important effects on the political -and social revolutions of the world. I have already endeavored to show -that his reduction of Africa probably contributed to the rapid progress -of the Mussulmans, but this and his other victories probably saved his -country from impending ruin. During the fifth century more than half the -provinces of the ancient empire had been usurped by the barbarians, and -the rising tide of their conquests must soon have overwhelmed the -remainder. The decline of the Byzantine Romans was threatened by the -youthful vigor of the Vandal and Ostrogothic kingdoms. Although the -founders of these mighty monarchies had been wisely solicitous for -peace, they left their successors fully able to undertake any projects -of invasion; and an alliance of these states against the Romans must -have been fatal to the last. Had not Belisarius arisen at this -particular juncture the Vandals, Goths, and Persians would in all -likelihood have divided the imperial provinces among them. The Arian -doctrines, of which the two former were zealous partisans, would then -probably have prevailed in the Christian world, the whole balance of -power in Europe would have undergone incalculable changes, and the -treasures of Greek and Roman genius would never have enlightened modern -times. - - - - -MOHAMMED,[19] THE FOUNDER OF ISLAM. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Born 570 or 571 A.D., died 632. Like all the upper classes of - Mecca, his birthplace, the future prophet devoted himself to - commercial pursuits, and in his twenty-fifth year he married the - rich widow whose business he supervised. It was not till his - fortieth year that he - -[Illustration: MOHAMMED.] - - announced to the world his heavenly mission, his first converts - being his wife and his uncle Abu Taleb. He was compelled to fly - from Mecca to Medina, and the year of the flight known as the - “Hegira,” 622 A.D., is the foundation of the Mohammedan era. Within - a decade Mohammed converted nearly the whole of Arabia to his new - religion, and the dominion of his successors was spread with a - rapidity which is among the marvels of history.] - - -The plebeian birth of Mahomet is an unskillful calumny of the -Christians, who exalt instead of degrading the merit of their adversary. -His descent from Ishmael was a national privilege or fable; but if the -first steps of the pedigree are dark and doubtful, he could produce many -generations of pure and genuine nobility; he sprung from the tribe of -Koreish and the family of Hashem, the most illustrious of the Arabs, the -princes of Mecca, and the hereditary guardians of the Caaba. The -grandfather of Mahomet was Abdol Motalleb, the son of Hashem, a wealthy -and generous citizen who relieved the distress of famine with the -supplies of commerce. Mecca, which had been fed by the liberality of the -father, was saved by the courage of the son. The kingdom of Yemen was -subject to the Christian princes of Abyssinia; their vassal Abrahah was -provoked by an insult to avenge the honor of the cross; and the holy -city was invested by a train of elephants and an army of Africans. A -treaty was proposed, and in the first audience the grandfather of -Mahomet demanded the restitution of his cattle. “And why,” said Abrahah, -“do you not rather implore my clemency in favor of your temple, which I -have threatened to destroy?” “Because,” replied the intrepid chief, “the -cattle is my own; the Caaba belongs to the gods, and _they_ will defend -their house from injury and sacrilege.” The want of provisions, or the -valor of the Koreish, compelled the Abyssinians to a disgraceful -retreat; their discomfiture has been adorned with a miraculous flight of -birds, who showered down stones on the heads of the infidels; and the -deliverance was long commemorated by the era of the elephant. - -The glory of Abdol Motalleb was crowned with domestic happiness, his -life was prolonged to the age of one hundred and ten years, and he -became the father of six daughters and thirteen sons. His best beloved -Abdallah was the most beautiful and modest of the Arabian youth. -Mahomet, or more properly Mohammed, the only son of Abdallah and Amina, -of the noble race of the Zahrites, was born at Mecca, four years after -the death of Justinian. In his early infancy he was deprived of his -father, his mother, and his grandfather; his uncles were strong and -numerous; and in the division of the inheritance the orphan’s share was -reduced to five camels and an Ethiopian maid-servant. At home and -abroad, in peace and war, Abu Taleb, the most respectable of his uncles, -was the guide and guardian of his youth; in his twenty-fifth year he -entered into the service of Cadijah, a rich and noble widow of Mecca, -who soon rewarded his fidelity with the gift of her hand and fortune. -The marriage contract, in the simple style of antiquity, recites the -mutual love of Mahomet and Cadijah; describes him as the most -accomplished of the tribe of Koreish; and stipulates a dowry of twelve -ounces of gold and twenty camels, which was supplied by the liberality -of his uncle. By this alliance the son of Abdallah was restored to the -station of his ancestors, and the judicious matron was content with his -domestic virtues, till, in the fortieth year of his age, he assumed the -title of a prophet and proclaimed the religion of the Koran. - -According to the tradition of his companions, Mahomet was distinguished -by the beauty of his person, an outward gift which is seldom despised, -except by those to whom it has been refused. Before he spoke, the orator -engaged on his side the affections of a public or private audience. They -applauded his commanding presence, his majestic aspect, his piercing -eye, his gracious smile, his flowing beard, his countenance that painted -every sensation of the soul, and his gestures that enforced each -expression of the tongue. In the familiar offices of life he -scrupulously adhered to the grave and ceremonious politeness of his -country; his respectful attention to the rich and powerful was dignified -by his condescension and affability to the poorest citizens of Mecca; -the frankness of his manner concealed the artifice of his views, and the -habits of courtesy were imputed to personal friendship or universal -benevolence. His memory was capacious and retentive, his wit easy and -social, his imagination sublime, his judgment clear, rapid, and -decisive. He possessed the courage both of thought and action; and, -although his designs might gradually expand with his success, the first -idea which he entertained of his divine mission bears the stamp of an -original and superior genius. The son of Abdallah was educated in the -bosom of the noblest race, in the use of the purest dialect of Arabia; -and the fluency of his speech was corrected and enhanced by the practice -of discreet and seasonable silence. With these powers of eloquence -Mahomet was an illiterate barbarian; his youth had never been instructed -in the arts of reading and writing; the common ignorance exempted him -from shame or reproach, but he was reduced to a narrow circle of -existence, and deprived of those faithful mirrors which reflect to our -mind the minds of sages and heroes. Yet the book of nature and of man -was open to his view; and some fancy has been indulged in the political -and philosophical observations which are ascribed to the Arabian -_traveler_. He compares the nations and the religions of the earth; -discovers the weakness of the Persian and Roman monarchies; beholds, -with pity and indignation, the degeneracy of the times; and resolves to -unite, under one God and one king, the invincible spirit and primitive -virtues of the Arabs. Our more accurate inquiry will suggest that, -instead of visiting the courts, the camps, the temples of the East, the -two journeys of Mahomet into Syria were confined to the fairs of Bostra -and Damascus; that he was only thirteen years of age when he accompanied -the caravan of his uncle; and that his duty compelled him to return as -soon as he had disposed of the merchandise of Cadijah. In these hasty -and superficial excursions the eye of genius might discern some objects -invisible to his grosser companions; some seeds of knowledge might be -cast upon a fruitful soil; but his ignorance of the Syriac language must -have checked his curiosity, and I can not perceive in the life or -writings of Mahomet that his prospect was far extended beyond the limits -of the Arabian world. - -From every region of that solitary world the pilgrims of Mecca were -annually assembled by the calls of devotion and commerce; in the free -concourse of multitudes, a simple citizen, in his native tongue, might -study the political state and character of the tribes, the theory and -practice of the Jews and Christians. Some useful strangers might be -tempted, or forced, to implore the rights of hospitality; and the -enemies of Mahomet have named the Jew, the Persian, and the Syrian monk -whom they accuse of lending their secret aid to the composition of the -Koran. Conversation enriches the understanding, but solitude is the -school of genius; and the uniformity of a work denotes the hand of a -single artist. From his earliest youth Mahomet was addicted to religious -contemplation; each year, during the month of Ramadan, he withdrew from -the world and from the arms of Cadijah; in the cave of Hera, three miles -from Mecca, he consulted the spirit of fraud or enthusiasm, whose abode -is not in the heavens, but in the mind of the prophet. The faith which, -under the name of _Islam_, he preached to his family and nation, is -compounded of an eternal truth and a necessary fiction, that _there is -only one God, and that Mahomet is the apostle of God_. - -It may, perhaps, be expected that I should balance his faults and -virtues, that I should decide whether the title of enthusiast or -impostor more properly belongs to that extraordinary man. Had I been -intimately conversant with the son of Abdallah, the task would still be -difficult, and the success uncertain; at the distance of twelve -centuries, I darkly contemplate his shade through a cloud of religious -incense; and could I truly delineate the portrait of an hour, the -fleeting resemblance would not equally apply to the solitary of Mount -Hera, to the preacher of Mecca, and to the conqueror of Arabia. The -author of a mighty revolution appears to have been endowed with a pious -and contemplative disposition; so soon as marriage had raised him above -the pressure of want, he avoided the paths of ambition and avarice; and -till the age of forty he lived with innocence, and would have died -without a name. The unity of God is an idea most congenial to nature and -reason; and a slight conversation with the Jews and Christians would -teach him to despise and detest the idolatry of Mecca. It was the duty -of a man and a citizen to impart the doctrine of salvation, to rescue -his country from the dominion of sin and error. The energy of a mind -incessantly bent on the same object would convert a general obligation -into a particular call; the warm suggestions of the understanding or the -fancy would be felt as the inspirations of heaven; the labor of thought -would expire in rapture and vision; and the inward sensation, the -invisible monitor, would be described with the form and attributes of an -angel of God. - -From enthusiasm to imposture the step is perilous and slippery; the -demon of Socrates affords a memorable instance how a wise man may -deceive himself, how a good man may deceive others, how the conscience -may slumber in a mixed and middle state between self-illusion and -voluntary fraud. Charity may believe that the original motives of -Mahomet were those of pure and genuine benevolence; but a human -missionary is incapable of cherishing the obstinate unbelievers who -reject his claims, despise his arguments, and persecute his life; he -might forgive his personal adversaries, he may lawfully hate the enemies -of God; the stern passions of pride and revenge were kindled in the -bosom of Mahomet, and he sighed, like the prophet of Nineveh, for the -destruction of the rebels whom he had condemned. The injustice of Mecca -and the choice of Medina transformed the citizen into a prince, the -humble preacher into the leader of armies; but his sword was consecrated -by the example of the saints, and the same God who afflicts a sinful -world with pestilence and earthquakes might inspire for their conversion -or chastisement the valor of his servants. In the exercise of political -government he was compelled to abate of the stern rigor of fanaticism, -to comply in some measure with the prejudices and passions of his -followers, and to employ even the vices of mankind as the instruments of -their salvation. The use of fraud and perfidy, of cruelty and injustice, -were often subservient to the propagation of the faith; and Mahomet -commanded or approved the assassination of the Jews and idolaters who -had escaped from the field of battle. By the repetition of such acts the -character of Mahomet must have been gradually stained, and the influence -of such pernicious habits would be poorly compensated by the practice of -the personal and social virtues which are necessary to maintain the -reputation of a prophet among his secretaries and friends. - -Of his last years ambition was the ruling passion; and a politician will -suspect that he secretly smiled (the victorious impostor!) at the -enthusiasm of his youth and the credulity of his proselytes. A -philosopher will observe that _their_ cruelty and _his_ success would -tend more strongly to fortify the assurance of his divine mission, that -his interest and religion were inseparably connected, and that his -conscience would be soothed by the persuasion that he alone was absolved -by the Deity from the obligation of positive and moral laws. If he -retained any vestige of his native innocence, the sins of Mahomet may be -allowed as an evidence of his sincerity. In the support of truth the -arts of fraud and fiction may be deemed less criminal, and he would have -started at the foulness of the means had he not been satisfied of the -importance and justice of the end. Even in a conqueror or a priest, I -can surprise a word or action of unaffected humanity; and the decree of -Mahomet that, in the sale of captives, the mothers should never be -separated from their children, may suspend or moderate the censure of -the historian. - -The good sense of Mahomet despised the pomp of royalty; the apostle of -God submitted to the menial offices of the family; he kindled the fire, -swept the floor, milked the ewes, and mended with his own hands his -shoes and his woolen garment. Disdaining the penance and merit of a -hermit, he observed, without effort or vanity, the abstemious diet of an -Arab and a soldier. On solemn occasions he feasted his companions with -rustic and hospitable plenty; but in his domestic life, many weeks would -elapse without a fire being kindled on the hearth of the prophet. The -interdiction of wine was confirmed by his example; his hunger was -appeased with a sparing allowance of barley bread; he delighted in the -taste of milk and honey, but his ordinary food consisted of dates and -water. Perfumes and women were the two sensual enjoyments which his -nature required and his religion did not forbid. Their incontinence was -regulated by the civil and religious laws of the Koran; their incestuous -alliances were blamed, the boundless license of polygamy was reduced to -four legitimate wives or concubines; their rights, both of bed and of -dowry, were equitably determined; the freedom of divorce was -discouraged, adultery was condemned as a capital offense, and -fornication in either sex was punished with a hundred stripes. Such were -the calm and rational precepts of the legislator; but in his private -conduct Mahomet indulged the appetites of a man, and abused the claims -of a prophet. The youth, the beauty, the spirit of Ayesha, gave her a -superior ascendant; she was beloved and trusted by the prophet, and -after his death the daughter of Abubeker was long revered as the mother -of the faithful. During the twenty-four years of the marriage of Mahomet -with Cadijah, her youthful husband abstained from the right of -polygamy, and the pride or tenderness of the venerable matron was never -insulted by the society of a rival. After her death he placed her in the -rank of the four perfect women--with the sister of Moses, the mother of -Jesus, and Fatima, the best beloved of his daughters. “Was she not old?” -said Ayesha, with the insolence of a blooming beauty; “has not God given -you a better in her place?” “No, by God,” said Mahomet, with an effusion -of honest gratitude, “there never can be a better! she believed in me -when men despised me; she relieved my wants when I was poor and -persecuted by the world.” - - - - -CHARLEMAGNE. - -BY SIR JAMES STEPHEN. - - [Otherwise known as Charles I, or Charles the Great, Emperor of the - West and King of France, born 742 A.D., died 814. Grandson of - Charles Martel and son of Pepin, who, under the titular rank of - Mayor of the Palace and Duke of Austrasia, had exercised the - substantial functions of French sovereignty during the closing days - of the Merovingian kings. Charlemagne was the true founder of the - Carlovingian dynasty, and was by conquest the ruler over much of - what is now Germany, Austria, the Netherlands, Belgium, and Italy. - He is one of the colossal figures in early European history. But - even his genius, though gifted with the finest traits of the - soldier, administrator, and law-maker, could not delay that - tremendous revolution of society, which intervened between the - collapse of the old Roman system and the establishment of - feudalism. The most important events of his reign were the - subjugation and conversion of the Saxons and the re-establishment - of the Western Empire.] - - -The political maxims which Charlemagne acquired by tradition and -inheritance had, to a certain extent, become obsolete when he himself -succeeded to the power of his ancestors and to the crown of his father, -Pepin. It was then no longer necessary to practice those hereditary arts -with a - -[Illustration: CHARLEMAGNE.] - -view to the great prize to which they had so long been subservient. But -the maxims by which the Carlovingian scepter had been won were not less -necessary in order to defend and to retain it. They afford the key to -more than half the history of the great conqueror from whom that dynasty -derives its name. The cardinal points to which throughout his long and -glorious reign his mind was directed with an inflexible tenacity of -purpose, were precisely those toward which his forefathers had bent -their attention. They were to conciliate the attachment of his German -subjects by studiously maintaining their old German institutions; to -anticipate instead of awaiting the invasions of the barbarous nations by -whom he was surrounded; to court the alliance and support of all other -secular potentates of the East and West; and to strengthen his own power -by the most intimate relations with the Church. - -I have, however, already observed that Charlemagne had other rules or -habits of conduct which were the indigenous growth of his own mind. It -was only in a mind of surpassing depth and fertility that such maxims -could have been nurtured and made to yield their appropriate fruits; -for, first, he firmly believed that the power of his house could have no -secure basis except in the religious, moral, intellectual, and social -improvement of his subjects; and, secondly, he was no less firmly -persuaded that in order to effect that improvement it was necessary to -consolidate all temporal authority in Europe by the reconstruction of -the Cæsarian empire--that empire beneath the shelter of which religion, -law, and learning had so long and so widely flourished throughout the -dominions of imperial Rome. - -Gibbon has remarked, that of all the heroes to whom the title of “the -Great” had been given, Charlemagne alone has retained it as a permanent -addition to his name. The reason may, perhaps, be that in no other man -were ever united in so large a measure, and in such perfect harmony, the -qualities which, in their combination, constitute the heroic character, -such as energy, or the love of action; ambition, or the love of power; -curiosity, or the love of knowledge; and sensibility, or the love of -pleasure--not, indeed, the love of forbidden, of unhallowed, or of -enervating pleasure, but the keen relish for those blameless delights by -which the burdened mind and jaded spirits recruit and renovate their -powers--delights of which none are susceptible in the highest degree but -those whose more serious pursuits are sustained by the highest motives -and directed toward the highest ends; for the charms of social -intercourse, the play of buoyant fancy, the exhilaration of honest -mirth, and even the refreshment of athletic exercises, require, for -their perfect enjoyment, that robust and absolute health of body and of -mind, which none but the noblest natures possess and in the possession -of which Charlemagne exceeded all other men. - -His lofty stature, his open countenance, his large and brilliant eyes, -and the dome-like structure of his head imparted, as we learn from -Eginhard, to all his attitudes the dignity which becomes a king, -relieved by the graceful activity of a practiced warrior. He was still a -stranger to every form of bodily disease when he entered his seventieth -year; and although he was thenceforward constrained to pay the usual -tribute to sickness and to pain, he maintained to the last a contempt -for the whole _materia medica_, and for the dispensers of it, which -Molière himself, in his gayest mood, might have envied. In defiance of -the gout, he still followed the chase, and still provoked his comrades -to emulate his feats in swimming, as though the iron frame which had -endured nearly threescore campaigns had been incapable of lassitude and -exempt from decay. - -In the monastery of St. Gall, near the Lake of Constance, there was -living in the ninth century a monk who relieved the tedium of his -monotonous life and got the better, as he tells us, of much -constitutional laziness by collecting anecdotes of the mighty monarch, -with whose departed glories the world was at that time ringing. In this -amusing legend Charlemagne, the conqueror, the legislator, the patron of -learning, and the restorer of the empire, makes way for Charlemagne, the -joyous companion, amusing himself with the comedy or rather with the -farce of life, and contributing to it not a few practical jokes, which -stand in most whimsical contrast with the imperial dignity of the -jester. Thus, when he commands a whole levy of his blandest courtiers, -plumed and furred and silken as they stood, to follow him in the chase -through sleet and tempest, mud and brambles; or constrains an unhappy -chorister, who had forgotten his responses, to imitate the other members -of the choir by a long series of mute grimaces; or concerts with a Jew -peddler a scheme for palming off, at an enormous price, on an Episcopal -virtuoso, an embalmed rat, as an animal till then unknown to any -naturalist--these, and many similar facetiæ, which in any other hands -might have seemed mere childish frivolities, reveal to us, in the -illustrious author of them, that native alacrity of spirit and -child-like glee, which neither age nor cares nor toil could subdue, and -which not even the oppressive pomps of royalty were able to suffocate. - -Nor was the heart which bounded thus lightly after whim or merriment -less apt to yearn with tenderness over the interior circle of his home. -While yet a child, he had been borne on men’s shoulders, in a buckler -for his cradle, to accompany his father in his wars; and in later life, -he had many a strange tale to tell of his father’s achievements. With -his mother, Bertha, the long-footed, he lived in affectionate and -reverend intimacy, which never knew a pause except on one occasion, -which may perhaps apologize for some breach even of filial reverence, -for Bertha had insisted on giving him a wife against his own consent. -His own parental affections were indulged too fondly and too long, and -were fatal both to the immediate objects of them and to his own -tranquillity. But with Eginhard and Alcuin and the other associates of -his severer labors, he maintained that grave and enduring friendship, -which can be created only on the basis of the most profound esteem, and -which can be developed only by that free interchange of thought and -feeling which implies the temporary forgetfulness of all the -conventional distinctions of rank and dignity. - -It was a retributive justice which left Gibbon to deform, with such -revolting obscenities, the pages in which he waged his disingenuous -warfare against the one great purifying influence of human society. It -may also have been retributive justice which has left the glory of -Charlemagne to be overshadowed by the foul and unmerited reproach on -which Gibbon dwells with such offensive levity; for the monarch was -habitually regardless of that law, at once so strict and so benignant, -which has rendered chastity the very bond of domestic love and happiness -and peace. In bursting through the restraints of virtue, Charlemagne was -probably the willing victim of a transparent sophistry. From a nature so -singularly constituted as his, sweet waters or bitter might flow with -equal promptitude. That peculiarity of temperament in which his virtues -and his vices found their common root probably confounded the -distinctions of good and evil in his self-judgments, and induced him to -think lightly of the excesses of a disposition so often conducting him -to the most noble and magnanimous enterprises; for such was the revelry -of his animal life, so inexhaustible his nervous energies, so intense -the vibrations of each successive impulse along the chords of his -sensitive nature, so insatiable his thirst for activity, and so -uncontrollable his impatience of repose, that, whether he was engaged in -a frolic or a chase, composed verses or listened to homilies, fought or -negotiated, cast down thrones or built them up, studied, conversed, or -legislated, it seemed as if he, and he alone, were the one wakeful and -really living agent in the midst of an inert, visionary, and somnolent -generation. - -The rank held by Charlemagne among great commanders was achieved far -more by this strange and almost superhuman activity than by any -pre-eminent proficiency in the art or science of war. He was seldom -engaged in any general action, and never undertook any considerable -siege, excepting that of Pavia, which, in fact, was little more than a -protracted blockade; but, during forty-six years of almost unintermitted -warfare, he swept over the whole surface of Europe, from the Ebro to the -Oder, from Bretagne to Hungary, from Denmark to Capua, with such a -velocity of movement and such a decision of purpose that no power, -civilized or barbarous, ever provoked his resentment without rapidly -sinking beneath his prompt and irresistible blows. And though it be -true, as Gibbon has observed, that he seldom if ever encountered in the -field a really formidable antagonist, it is not less true that, but for -his military skill animated by his sleepless energy, the countless -assailants by whom he was encompassed must rapidly have become too -formidable for resistance; for to Charlemagne is due the introduction -into modern warfare of the art by which a general compensates for the -numerical inferiority of his own forces to those of his antagonists--the -art of moving detached bodies of men along remote but converging lines -with such mutual concert as to throw their united forces at the same -moment on any meditated point of attack. Neither the Alpine marches of -Hannibal nor those of Napoleon were combined with greater foresight or -executed with greater precision than the simultaneous passages of -Charlemagne and Count Bernard across the same mountain-ranges, and their -ultimate union in the vicinity of their Lombard enemies. - -But though many generals have eclipsed the fame of Charlemagne as a -strategist, no one ever rivaled his inflexible perseverance as a -conqueror. The Carlovingian crown may indeed be said to have been worn -on the tenure of continual conquests. It was on that condition alone -that the family of Pepin of Heristal could vindicate the deposition of -the Merovings and the pre-eminence of the Austrasian people; and each -member of that family, in his turn, gave an example of obedience to that -law, or tradition, of their house. But by none of them was it so well -observed as by Charlemagne himself. From his first expedition to his -last there intervened forty-six years, no one of which he passed in -perfect peace, nor without some military triumph. In six months he -reduced into obedience the great province or kingdom of Aquitaine. In -less than two years he drove the Lombard king into a monastic exile, -placing on his own brows the iron crown, and with it the sovereignty -over nearly all the Italian peninsula. During thirty-three successive -summers he invaded the great Saxon confederacy, until the deluge of -barbarism with which they threaten southern Europe was effectually and -forever repressed. - -It has been alleged, indeed, that the Saxon wars were waged in the -spirit of fanaticism, and that the vicar of Christ placed the sword of -Mohammed in the hands of the sovereign of the Franks. It is, I think, an -unfounded charge, though sanctioned by Gibbon and by Warburton, and by -names of perhaps even greater authority than theirs. That the -alternative, “believe or die,” was sometimes proposed by Charlemagne to -the Saxons, I shall not, indeed, dispute. But it is not less true that, -before these terms were tendered to them, they had again and again -rejected his less formidable proposal, “be quiet and live.” In form and -in terms, indeed, their election lay between the Gospel and the sword. -In substance and in reality, they had to make their choice between -submission and destruction. A long and deplorable experience had already -shown that the Frankish people had neither peace nor security to expect -for a single year, so long as their Saxon neighbors retained their -heathen rites and the ferocious barbarism inseparable from them. Fearful -as may be the dilemma, “submit or perish,” it is that to which every -nation, even in our own - -[Illustration: ALFRED THE GREAT.] - -times, endeavors to reduce a host of invading and desolating foes; nor, -if we ourselves were now exposed to similar inroads, should we offer to -our assailants conditions more gentle or less peremptory. - - - - -ALFRED THE GREAT, OF ENGLAND. - -BY DAVID HUME. - - [Hereditary King of the West Saxons, and Over-king of all England, - born in 849 A.D., died 901. Alfred was the true founder of the - English monarchy, and one of the greatest monarchs in English - history. In his reign the English became essentially one people, - and the Danish invaders then settled in England were incorporated - with the Saxons. Alfred was not only a great soldier and statesman, - but was distinguished for intellectual greatness in the pursuit of - arts and letters. Under his patronage the Saxon court became the - source of civilizing influences that extended over all Northern and - Western Europe.] - - -The merit of this prince both in private and public life may with -advantage be set in opposition to that of any monarch or citizen which -the annals of any age or nation can present to us. He seems, indeed, to -be the model of that perfect character which, under the denomination of -sage or wise man, philosophers have been fond of delineating rather as a -fiction of their own imagination than in hopes of seeing it existing, so -happily were all his virtues tempered together, so justly were they -blended, and so powerfully did each prevent the other from exceeding its -proper boundaries. He knew how to reconcile the most enterprising spirit -with the coolest moderation, the most obstinate perseverance with the -easiest flexibility; the most severe justice with the gentlest lenity; -the greatest vigor in commanding with the most perfect affability of -deportment; the highest capacity and inclination for science with the -most shining talents for action. His civil and his military virtues are -almost equally the objects of our admiration, excepting only that the -former being more rare among princes as well as more useful seem chiefly -to challenge our applause. - -Nature, also, as if desirous that so bright a production of her skill -should be set in the fairest light, had bestowed on him every bodily -accomplishment--vigor of limbs, dignity of air and shape, with a -pleasant, engaging, and open countenance. Fortune alone by throwing him -into that barbarous age deprived him of historians worthy to transmit -his fame to posterity; and we wish to see him delineated in more lively -colors, and with more peculiar strokes, that we may at least perceive -some of those specks and blemishes from which as a man it is impossible -he could be entirely exempted. - -The better to guide the magistrates in the administration of justice, -Alfred framed a body of laws, which, though now lost, served long as the -basis of English jurisprudence, and is generally deemed the origin of -what is denominated the Common Law. The similarity of these institutions -to the customs of the ancient Germans, to the practice of the other -Northern conquerors, and to the Saxon laws during the heptarchy, -prevents us from regarding Alfred as the sole author of this plan of -government, and leads us rather to think that, like a wise man, he -contented himself with reforming, extending, and executing the -institutions which he found previously established. - -But on the whole such success attended his legislation that everything -bore suddenly a new face in England. Robberies and iniquities of all -kinds were repressed by the punishment or reformation of criminals; and -so exact was the general police that Alfred, it is said, hung up by way -of bravado golden bracelets near the highways, and no man dared touch -them. Yet, amid these rigors of justice, this great prince preserved the -most sacred regard to the liberties of the people; and it is a memorable -sentiment preserved in his will that it was just the English should -ever remain as free as their own thoughts. - -As good morals and knowledge are almost inseparable in every age, though -not in every individual, the care of Alfred for the encouragement of -learning among his subjects was another useful branch of his -legislation, and tended to reclaim the English from their former -dissolute and ferocious manners. But the king was guided in this pursuit -less by political views than by his natural bent and propensity toward -letters. - -When he came to the throne he found the nation sunk into the grossest -ignorance and barbarism, proceeding from the continued disorders in the -government and from the ravages of the Danes. The monasteries were -destroyed, the monks butchered or dispersed, their libraries burned, and -thus the only seats of erudition in those ages were totally subverted. -Alfred himself complains that on his accession he knew not one person -south of the Thames who could so much as interpret the Latin service, -and very few in the northern parts who had reached even that pitch of -erudition. But this prince invited over the most celebrated scholars -from all parts of Europe; he established schools everywhere for the -instruction of his people; he founded--at least repaired--the University -of Oxford, and endowed it with many privileges, revenues, and -immunities. He gave preferment both in Church and state to such only as -made some proficiency in knowledge. - -But the most effectual expedient adopted by Alfred for the encouragement -of learning was his own example, and the constant assiduity with which, -notwithstanding the multiplicity and urgency of his affairs, he employed -himself in the pursuit of knowledge. He usually divided his time into -three equal portions--one was employed in sleep, and the refection of -his body by diet and exercise; another, in the dispatch of business; a -third, in study and devotion. And that he might more exactly measure the -hours, he made use of burning tapers of equal length, which he fixed in -lanterns--an expedient suited to that rude age, when the geometry of -dialing and the mechanism of clocks and watches were entirely unknown. -And by such a regular distribution of his time, though he often labored -under great bodily infirmities, this martial hero who fought in person -fifty-six battles by sea and land, was able, during a life of no -extraordinary length, to acquire more knowledge, and even to compose -more books, than most studious men, though blessed with greatest leisure -and application, have in more fortunate ages made the object of their -uninterrupted industry. And he deemed it no wise derogatory from his -other great characters of sovereign, legislator, warrior, and politician -thus to lead the way to his people in the pursuit of literature. - -He invited from all quarters industrious foreigners to repeople his -country, which had been desolated by the ravages of the Danes. He -introduced and encouraged manufactures of all kinds, and no inventor or -improver of any ingenious art did he suffer to go unrewarded. He -prompted men of activity to betake themselves to navigation, to push -commerce into the most remote countries, and to acquire riches by -propagating industry among their fellow-citizens. He set apart a seventh -portion of his own revenue for maintaining a number of workmen, whom he -constantly employed in rebuilding the ruined cities, castles, palaces, -and monasteries. Even the elegancies of life were brought to him from -the Mediterranean and the Indies; and his subjects, by seeing those -productions of the peaceful arts, were taught to respect the virtues of -justice and industry, from which alone they could rise. Both living and -dead Alfred was regarded by foreigners, no less than by his own -subjects, as the greatest prince after Charlemagne that appeared in -Europe during several ages, and as one of the wisest and best that had -ever adorned the annals of any nation. - - - - -OLAF TRYGGVESON, KING OF NORWAY. - -BY THOMAS CARLYLE. - - [Earliest of the Norwegian kings who succeeded in implanting - Christianity in the soil of Norse paganism. Exact date of birth - unknown; died 1000 A.D. Son of Tryggve, a former under-king, or - jarl, of Norway, slain by Hakon Jarl, who had usurped the supreme - power about 975. Olaf spent his early years as a sea-rover, and - became the most celebrated viking of his age. He conquered and slew - Hakon in 995, and became king. During his reign of five years he - revolutionized his kingdom. He lost his life in a great sea-battle - with the combined fleets of Denmark and Norway. The facts of his - career are mostly drawn from the saga of Snorro Sturleson.] - - -Tryggveson made a stout and, in effect, victorious and glorious struggle -for himself as king. Daily and hourly vigilant to do so, often enough by -soft and even merry methods--for he was a witty, jocund man, and had a -fine ringing laugh in him, and clear, pregnant words ever ready--or, if -soft methods would not serve, then by hard and even hardest he put down -a great deal of miscellaneous anarchy in Norway, was especially busy -against heathenism (devil-worship and its rites); this, indeed, may be -called the focus and heart of all his royal endeavor in Norway, and of -all the troubles he now had with his people there. For this was a -serious, vital, all-comprehending matter; devil-worship, a thing not to -be tolerated one moment longer than you could by any method help! Olaf’s -success was intermittent, of varying complexion, but his effort, swift -or slow, was strong and continual, and, on the whole, he did succeed. -Take a sample of that wonderful conversion process: - -Once, in beginning a parliamentary address, so soon as he came to touch -upon Christianity the Bonders rose in murmurs, in vociferations and -jingling of arms, which quite drowned the royal voice; declared they -had taken arms against King Hakon the Good to compel him to desist from -his Christian proposals, and they did not think King Olaf a higher man -than him (Hakon the Good). The king then said, “He purposed coming to -them next Yule to their great sacrificial feast to see for himself what -their customs were,” which pacified the Bonders for this time. The -appointed place of meeting was again a Hakon-Jarl Temple, not yet done -to ruin, chief shrine in those Trondhjem parts, I believe; there should -Tryggveson appear at Yule. Well, but before Yule came, Tryggveson made a -great banquet in his palace at Trondhjem, and invited far and wide all -manner of important persons out of the district as guests there. Banquet -hardly done, Tryggveson gave some slight signal, upon which armed men -strode in, seized eleven of these principal persons, and the king said: -“Since he himself was to become a heathen again and do sacrifice, it was -his purpose to do it in the highest form, namely, that of human -sacrifice, and this time not of slaves and malefactors, but of the best -men in the country!” In which stringent circumstances the eleven seized -persons and company at large gave unanimous consent to baptism, -straightway received the same, and abjured their idols, but were not -permitted to go home till they had left, in sons, brothers, and other -precious relatives, sufficient hostages in the king’s hands. - -By unwearied industry of this and better kinds, Tryggveson had trampled -down idolatry so far as form went--how far in substance may be greatly -doubted. But it is to be remembered withal that always on the back of -these compulsory adventures there followed English bishops, priests, and -preachers, whereby to the open-minded conviction, to all degrees of it, -was attainable, while silence and passivity became the duty or necessity -of the unconvinced party. In about two years Norway was all gone over -with a rough harrow of conversion. Heathenism, at least, constrained to -be silent and outwardly conformable. - -Olaf Tryggveson, though his kingdom was the smallest of the Norse three, -had risen to a renown over all the Norse world, which neither he of -Denmark nor he of Sweden could pretend to rival. A magnificent, -far-shining man, more expert in all “bodily exercises,” as the Norse -called them, than any man had ever been before him or after was. Could -keep five daggers in the air, always catching the proper fifth by its -handle, and sending it aloft again; could shoot supremely, throw a -javelin with either hand; and, in fact, in battle usually threw two -together. These, with swimming, climbing, leaping, were the then -admirable fine arts of the North, in all which Tryggveson appears to -have been the Raphael and the Michael Angelo at once. Essentially -definable, too, if we look well into him, as a wild bit of real heroism -in such rude guise and environment--a high, true, and great human soul. -A jovial burst of laughter in him withal; a bright, airy, wise way of -speech; dressed beautifully and with care; a man admired and loved -exceedingly by those he liked; dreaded as death by those he did not -like. “Hardly any king,” says Snorro, “was ever so well obeyed; by one -class out of zeal and love, by the rest out of dread.” His glorious -course, however, was not to last long. - -Tryggveson had already ships and navies that were the wonder of the -North. Especially in building war-ships--the Crane, the Serpent, last of -all, the Long Serpent--he had, for size, for outward beauty, and inward -perfection of equipment, transcended all example. - -A new sea expedition undertaken by Olaf became an object of attention to -all neighbors; especially Queen Sigrid the Proud and Svein -Double-Beard,[20] her now king, were attentive to it. - -“This insolent Tryggveson,” Queen Sigrid would often say, and had long -been saying, to her Svein, “to marry thy sister without leave had or -asked of thee; and now flaunting forth his war navies as if he, king -only of paltry Norway, were the big hero of the North! Why do you suffer -it, you kings really great?” - -By such persuasions and reiterations King Svein of Denmark, King Olaf of -Sweden, and Jarl Eric, now a great man there, grown rich by prosperous -sea-robbery and other good management, were brought to take the matter -up, and combine strenuously for destruction of King Olaf Tryggveson on -this grand Wendland expedition of his. - -King Olaf Tryggveson, unacquainted with all this, sailed away in summer -with his splendid fleet, went through the belts with prosperous winds, -under bright skies, to the admiration of both shores. Such a fleet, with -its shining Serpents, long and short, and perfection of equipment and -appearance, the Baltic never saw before. - -Olaf’s chief captains, seeing the enemy’s fleet come out and how the -matter lay, strongly advised King Olaf to elude this stroke of -treachery, and with all sail hold on his course, fight being now on so -unequal terms. Snorro says the king, high on the quarter-deck where he -stood, replied: “Strike the sails! never shall men of mine think of -flight. I never fled from battle. Let God dispose of my life; but flight -I will never take!” And so the battle arrangements immediately began, -and the battle with all fury went loose, and lasted hour after hour till -almost sunset, if I well recollect. “Olaf stood on the Serpent’s -quarter-deck,” says Snorro, “high over the others. He had a gilt shield -and a helmet inlaid with gold; over his armor he had a short red coat, -and was easily distinguished from other men.” - -The Danish fleet, the Swedish fleet, were both of them quickly dealt -with, and successively withdrew out of shotrange. And then Jarl Eric -came up and fiercely grappled with the Long Serpent, or rather with her -surrounding comrades, and gradually, as they were beaten empty of men, -with the Long Serpent herself. The fight grew ever fiercer, more -furious. Eric was supplied with new men from the Swedes and Danes; Olaf -had no such resource, except from the crews of his own beaten ships; and -at length this also failed him, all his ships, except the Long Serpent, -being beaten and emptied. Olaf fought on unyielding. Eric twice boarded -him, was twice repulsed. Olaf kept his quarter-deck, unconquerable, -though left now more and more hopeless, fatally short of help. A tall -young man, called Einar Tamberskelver, very celebrated and important -afterward in Norway, and already the best archer known, kept busy with -his bow. Twice he nearly shot Jarl Eric in his ship. “Shoot me that -man!” said Jarl Eric to a bowman near him; and, just as Tamberskelver -was drawing his bow the third time, an arrow hit it in the middle and -broke it in two. “What is this that has broken?” asked King Olaf. -“Norway from thy hand, king,” answered Tamberskelver. Tryggveson’s men, -he observed with surprise, were striking violently on Eric’s, but to no -purpose; nobody fell. “How is this?” asked Tryggveson. “Our swords are -notched and blunted, king; they do not cut.” Olaf stepped down to his -arm-chest, delivered out new swords, and it was observed, as he did it, -blood ran trickling from his wrist, but none knew where the wound was. -Eric boarded a third time. Olaf, left with hardly more than one man, -sprang overboard (one sees that red coat of his still glancing in the -evening sun), and sank in the deep waters to his long rest. - -Rumor ran among his people that he still was not dead; grounding on some -movement by the ships of that traitorous Sigwald, they fancied Olaf had -dived beneath the keels of his enemies, and got away with Sigwald, as -Sigwald himself evidently did. “Much was hoped, supposed, spoken,” says -one old mourning Skald; “but the truth was, Olaf Tryggveson was never -seen in Norseland more.” Strangely he remains still a shining figure to -us--the wildly beautifulest man in body and in soul that one has ever -heard of in the North. - - - - -CNUT OR CANUTE OF ENGLAND, ALSO KING OF DENMARK. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [Date of birth uncertain, died 1035 or 1036. He succeeded to the - command of the Danish invaders of England on the death of his - father Svein, and on the death of Eadmund Ironsides, the Saxon - king, he became the acknowledged King of England in 1017. His - exercise of power was marked by great qualities of justice, - ability, and devotion to the interests of his acquired kingdom; and - his name has been transmitted in history as a worthy successor of - the Great Alfred.] - - -The first of our foreign masters was the Dane. The countries of -Scandinavia which had so long been the mere starting points of the -pirate bands who had ravaged England and Ireland had now settled down -into comparative order. It was the aim of Svein to unite them in a great -Scandinavian Empire, of which England should be the head; and this -project, interrupted for a time by his death, was resumed with yet -greater vigor by his son Cnut. Fear of the Dane was still great in the -land, and Cnut had no sooner appeared off the English coast than Wessex, -Mercia, and Northumberland joined in owning him for their lord, and in -discarding again the rule of Æthelred, who had returned on the death of -Svein. When Æthelred’s death in 1016 raised his son Eadmund Ironside to -the throne, the loyalty of London enabled him to struggle bravely for a -few months against the Danes; but a decisive victory at Assandun and the -death of his rival left Cnut master of the realm. Conqueror as he was, -the Dane was no foreigner in the sense that the Norman was a foreigner -after him. His language differed little from the English tongue. He -brought in no new system of tenure or government. Cnut ruled, in fact, -not as a foreign conqueror but as a native king. The good-will and -tranquillity of England were necessary for the success of his larger -schemes in the north, where the arms of his English subjects aided him -in later years in uniting Denmark and Norway beneath his sway. - -Dismissing, therefore, his Danish “host,” and retaining only a trained -body of household troops or hus-carls to serve in sudden emergencies, -Cnut boldly relied for support within his realm on the justice and good -government he secured it. His aim during twenty years seems to have been -to obliterate from men’s minds the foreign character of his rule, and -the bloodshed in which it had begun. The change in himself was as -startling as the change in his policy. When he first appears in England, -it is as the mere northman, passionate, revengeful, uniting the guile of -the savage with his thirst for blood. His first acts of government were -a series of murders. Eadric of Mercia, whose aid had given him the -crown, was felled by an axe-blow at the king’s signal; a murder removed -Eadwig, the brother of Eadmund Ironside, while the children of Eadmund -were hunted even into Hungary by his ruthless hate. But from a savage -such as this Cnut rose suddenly into a wise and temperate king. Stranger -as he was, he fell back on “Eadgar’s law,” on the old constitution of -the realm, and owned no difference between conqueror and conquered, -between Dane and Englishman. By the creation of four earldoms--those of -Mercia, Northumberland, Wessex, and East Anglia--he recognized -provincial independence, but he drew closer than of old the ties which -bound the rulers of these great dependencies to the Crown. He even -identified himself with the patriotism which had withstood the stranger. -The Church had been the center of national resistance to the Dane, but -Cnut sought above all its friendship. He paid homage to the cause for -which Ælfheah had died, by his translation of the archbishop’s body to -Canterbury. He atoned for his father’s ravages by costly gifts to the -religious houses. He protected English pilgrims against the robber-lords -of the Alps. His love for monks broke out in the song which he composed -as he listened to their chant at Ely: “Merrily sang the monks in Ely -when Cnut King rowed by” across the vast fen-waters that surrounded -their abbey. “Row, boatmen, near the land, and hear we these monks -sing.” - -Cnut’s letter from Rome to his English subjects marks the grandeur of -his character and the noble conception he had formed of kingship. “I -have vowed to God to lead a right life in all things,” wrote the king, -“to rule justly and piously my realms and subjects, and to administer -just judgment to all. If heretofore I have done aught beyond what was -just, through headiness or negligence of youth, I am ready with God’s -help to amend it utterly.” No royal officer, either for fear of the king -or for favor of any, is to consent to injustice, none is to do wrong to -rich or poor “as they would value my friendship and their own -well-being.” He especially denounces unfair exactions: “I have no need -that money be heaped together for me by unjust demands.” “I have sent -this letter before me,” Cnut ends, “that all the people of my realm may -rejoice in my well-doing; for, as you yourselves know, never have I -spared nor will I spare to spend myself and my toil in what is needful -and good for my people.” - -Cnut’s greatest gift to his people was that of peace. With him began the -long internal tranquillity which was from this time to be the special -note of our national history. During two hundred years, with the one -terrible interval of the Norman Conquest, and the disturbance under -Stephen, England alone among the kingdoms of Europe enjoyed unbroken -repose. The wars of her kings lay far from her shores, in France or -Normandy, or, as with Cnut, in the more distant lands of the north. The -stern justice of their government secured order within. The absence of -internal discontent under Cnut--perhaps, too, the exhaustion of the -kingdom after the terrible Danish inroads--is proved by its quiet during -his periods of absence. Everything witnesses to the growing wealth and -prosperity of the country. A great part of English soil was, indeed, -still utterly uncultivated. - -Wide reaches of land were covered with wood, thicket and scrub, or -consisted of heaths and moor. In both the east and the west there were -vast tracts of marsh land; fens nearly one hundred miles long severed -East Anglia from the midland counties; sites like that of Glastonbury or -Athelney were almost inaccessible. The beaver still haunted marshy -hollows such as those which lay about Beverley, the London craftsmen -chased the wild boar and the wild ox in the woods of Hampstead, while -wolves prowled round the homesteads of the north. But peace, and the -industry it encouraged, were telling on this waste; stag and wolf were -retreating before the face of man, the farmer’s axe was ringing in the -forest, and villages were springing up in the clearings. The growth of -commerce was seen in the rich trading-ports of the eastern coast. The -main trade lay probably in skins and ropes and ship-masts; and, above -all, in the iron and steel that the Scandinavian lands so long supplied -to Britain. But Dane and Norwegian were traders over a yet wider field -than the northern seas; their barks entered the Mediterranean, while the -overland route through Russia brought the wares of Constantinople and -the East. “What do you bring to us?” the merchant is asked in an old -English dialogue. “I bring skins, silks, costly gems, and gold,” he -answers, “besides various garments, pigment, wine, oil, and ivory, with -brass and copper and tin, silver and gold, and such like.” Men from the -Rhineland and from Normandy, too, moored their vessels along the Thames, -on whose rude wharves were piled a strange medley of goods--pepper and -spices from the far East, crates of gloves and gray cloths (it may be -from the Lombard looms), sacks of wool, iron-work from Liége, butts of -French wine and vinegar, and with them the rural products of the country -itself--cheese, butter, lard, and eggs, with live swine and fowls. - -Cnut’s one aim was to win the love of his people, and all tradition -shows how wonderful was his success. But the greatness of his rule hung -solely on the greatness of his temper, and at his death the empire he -had built up at once fell to pieces. - - - - -WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [The illegitimate son of Robert, surnamed Le Diable, duke of - Normandy, and his father’s successor, born 1027; died, 1087. - Claiming right of inheritance under a pretended bequest of Edward - the Confessor, the Saxon king of England, he levied a great army of - adventurers from all Europe, and in the great battle of Senlac, or, - as it is sometimes known, Hastings, he defeated the Saxons and - their King Harold, who had been elected by the voice of the - _Wittenegamotte_, or Great Council of England, on October 14, 1066. - Harold was slain, and the Norman conqueror was crowned. William’s - transcendent abilities as a ruler, though stained by cruelty and - rapacity, made his reign the greatest epoch in early English - history.] - - -William the Great, as men of his own day styled him, William the -Conqueror, as by one event he stamped himself on our history, was now -Duke of Normandy. The full grandeur of his indomitable will, his large -and patient statesmanship, the loftiness of aim which lifts him out of -the petty incidents of his age, were as yet only partly disclosed. But -there never was a moment from his boyhood when he was not among the -greatest of men. His life was one long mastering of difficulty after -difficulty. The shame of his birth remained in his name of “the -Bastard.” His father, Duke Robert, had seen Arlotta, the daughter of a -tanner of the town, washing her linen in the little brook by - -[Illustration: WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.] - -Falaise, and, loving her, had made her the mother of his boy. Robert’s -departure on a pilgrimage from which he never returned left William a -child-ruler among the most turbulent baronage in Christendom, and -treason and anarchy surrounded him as he grew to manhood. Disorder broke -at last into open revolt. Surprised in his hunting-seat at Valognes by -the rising of the Bessin and Cotentin districts, in which the pirate -temper and lawlessness lingered longest, William had only time to dash -through the fords of Vire with the rebels on his track. A fierce combat -of horse on the slopes of Val-ès-dunes, to the southeastward of Caen, -left him master of the duchy, and the old Scandinavian Normandy yielded -forever to the new civilization which streamed in with French alliances -and the French tongue. William was himself a type of the transition. In -the young duke’s character the old world mingled strangely with the new, -the pirate jostled roughly with the statesman. William was the most -terrible, as he was the last outcome of the northern race. - -The very spirit of the “sea-wolves” who had so long “lived on the -pillage of the world” seemed embodied in his gigantic form, his enormous -strength, his savage countenance, his desperate bravery, the fury of his -wrath, the ruthlessness of his revenge. “No knight under heaven,” his -enemies confessed, “was William’s peer.” Boy as he was, horse and man -went down before his lance at Val-ès-dunes. All the fierce gayety of his -nature broke out in the chivalrous adventures of his youth, in his rout -of fifteen Angevins with but five soldiers at his back, in his defiant -ride over the ground which Geoffry Martel claimed from him--a ride with -hawk on fist as though war and the chase were one. No man could bend his -bow. His mace crashed its way through a ring of English warriors to the -foot of the standard. He rose to his greatest heights in moments when -other men despaired. His voice rang out like a trumpet to rally his -soldiers as they fled before the English charge at Senlac. In his -winter march on Chester he strode afoot at the head of his fainting -troops, and helped with his own hands to clear a road through the -snowdrifts. With the northman’s daring broke out the northman’s -pitilessness. When the townsmen of Alençon hung raw hides along their -walls in scorn of the baseness of his birth, with cries of “Work for the -tanner!” William tore out his prisoners’ eyes, cut off their hands and -feet, and flung them into the town. - -At the close of his greatest victory he refused Harold’s body a grave. -Hundreds of Hampshire men were driven from their homes to make him a -hunting-ground, and his harrying of Northumbria left the north of -England a desolate waste. There is a grim, ruthless ring about his very -jests. In his old age Philip of France mocked at the Conqueror’s -unwieldy bulk and at the sickness which confined him to his bed at -Rouen. “King William has as long a lying-in,” laughed his enemy, “as a -woman behind her curtains!” “When I get up,” swore William, “I will go -to mass in Philip’s land, and bring a rich offering for my churching. I -will offer a thousand candles for my fee. Flaming brands shall they be, -and steel shall glitter over the fire they make.” At harvest-tide town -and hamlet flaring into ashes along the French border fulfilled the -Conqueror’s vow. There is the same savage temper in the loneliness of -his life. He recked little of men’s love or hate. His grim look, his -pride, his silence, his wild outbursts of passion, spread terror through -his court. “So stark and fierce was he,” says the English chronicler, -“that none dared resist his will.” His graciousness to Anselm only -brought out into stronger relief the general harshness of his tone. His -very wrath was solitary. “To no man spake he, and no man dared speak to -him,” when the news reached him of Harold’s accession to the throne. It -was only when he passed from the palace to the loneliness of the woods -that the king’s temper unbent. “He loved the wild deer as though he had -been their father. Whosoever should slay hart or hind man should blind -him.” Death itself took its color from the savage solitude of his life. -Priests and nobles fled as the last breath left him, and the Conqueror’s -body lay naked and lonely on the floor. - -It is not to his victory at Senlac, but to the struggle which followed -his return from Normandy, that William owes his title of the -“Conqueror.” The struggle which ended in the fens of Ely had wholly -changed William’s position. He no longer held the land merely as elected -king; he added to his elective right the right of conquest. The system -of government which he originated was, in fact, the result of the double -character of his power. It represented neither the purely feudal system -of the Continent nor the system of the older English royalty. More -truly, perhaps, it may be said to have represented both. As the -successor of Eadward, William retained the judicial and administrative -organization of the older English realm. As the conqueror of England he -introduced the military organization of feudalism so far as was -necessary for the secure possession of his conquests. The ground was -already prepared for such an organization; we have seen the beginnings -of English feudalism in the warriors, the “companions,” or “thegns,” who -were personally attached to the king’s war-band, and received estates -from the folk-land in reward for their personal services. In later times -this feudal distribution of estates had greatly increased, as the bulk -of the nobles followed the king’s example and bound their tenants to -themselves by a similar process of subinfeudation. On the other hand, -the pure freeholders, the class which formed the basis of the original -English society, had been gradually reduced in number, partly through -imitation of the class above them, but still more through the incessant -wars and invasions which drove them to seek protectors among the thegns -at the cost of their independence. Feudalism, in fact, was superseding -the older freedom in England even before the reign of William, as it had -already superseded it in Germany or France. But the tendency was -quickened and intensified by the Conquest; the desperate and universal -resistance of his English subjects forced William to hold by the sword -what the sword had won, and an army strong enough to crush at any moment -a national revolt was necessary for the preservation of his throne. Such -an army could only be maintained by a vast confiscation of the soil. The -failure of the English risings cleared the way for its establishment; -the greater part of the higher nobility fell in battle or fled into -exile, while the lower thegnhood either forfeited the whole of their -lands or redeemed a portion of them by the surrender of the rest. - -The dependence of the Church on the royal power was strictly enforced. -Homage was exacted from bishop as from baron. No royal tenant could be -excommunicated without the king’s leave. No synod could legislate -without his previous assent and subsequent confirmation of its decrees. -No papal letters could be received within the realm save by his -permission. William firmly repudiated the claims which were now -beginning to be put forward by the court of Rome. When Gregory VII -called on him to do fealty for his realm, the king sternly refused to -admit the claim. “Fealty I have never willed to do, nor do I will to do -it now. I have never promised it, nor do I find that my predecessors did -it to yours.” - -The Conquest was hardly over when the struggle between the baronage and -the crown began. The wisdom of William’s policy in the destruction of -the great earldoms which had overshadowed the throne was shown in an -attempt at their restoration made by Roger, the son of his minister, -William Fitz-Osbern, and by the Breton Ralf de Guader, whom the king had -rewarded for his services at Senlac with the earldom of Norfolk. The -rising was quickly suppressed, Roger thrown into prison, and Ralf driven -over sea; but the intrigues of the baronage soon found another leader in -William’s half-brother, the Bishop of Bayeux. Under pretense of aspiring -by arms to the papacy, Bishop Odo collected money and men; but the -treasure was at once seized by the royal officers, and the bishop -arrested in the midst of the court. Even at the king’s bidding no -officer would venture to seize on a prelate of the Church; it was with -his own hands that William was forced to effect his arrest. “I arrest -not the bishop, but the Earl of Kent,” laughed the Conqueror, and Odo -remained a prisoner till William’s death. - -It was, in fact, this vigorous personality of William which proved the -chief safeguard of his throne. “Stark he was,” says the English -chronicler, “to men that withstood him. Earls that did aught against his -bidding he cast into bonds; bishops he stripped of their bishoprics, -abbots of their abbacies. He spared not his own brother; first he was in -the land, but the king cast him into bondage. If a man would live and -hold his lands, need it were that he should follow the king’s will.” -But, stern as his rule was, it gave peace to the land. Even amid the -sufferings which necessarily sprang from the circumstances of the -Conquest itself, from the erection of castles, or the inclosure of -forests, or the exactions which built up the great hoard at Winchester, -Englishmen were unable to forget “the good peace he made in the land, so -that a man might fare over his realm with a bosom full of gold.” Strange -touches of a humanity far in advance of his age contrasted with the -general temper of his government. One of the strongest traits in his -character was his aversion to shed blood by process of law; he formally -abolished the punishment of death, and only a single execution stains -the annals of his reign. An edict yet more honorable to him put an end -to the slave-trade which had till then been carried on at the port of -Bristol. The pitiless warrior, the stern and awful king was a tender and -faithful husband, an affectionate father. The lonely silence of his -bearing broke into gracious converse with pure and sacred souls like -Anselm. If William was “stark” to rebel and baron, men noted that he was -“mild to those that loved God.” - - - - -ROBERT GUISCARD. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Born about 1015, died 1085. This Norman adventurer, the sixth son - of a small baron, became Duke of Apulia and Calabria in Italy by - conquest, and founded the Kingdom of Naples, which existed till - 1860. Equally distinguished by personal prowess, generalship, and - diplomatic astuteness, he filled a large figure in the affairs of - his time, and was one of the stoutest bulwarks against Saracenic - aggression.] - - -The pedigree of Robert Guiscard is variously deduced from the peasants -and the dukes of Normandy--from the peasants, by the pride and ignorance -of a Grecian princess; from the dukes, by the ignorance and flattery of -the Italian subjects. His genuine descent may be ascribed to the second -or middle order of private nobility. He sprang from a race of -_valvassors_ or _bannerets_, of the diocese of Coutances, in the lower -Normandy; the castle of Hauteville was their honorable seat, his father -Tancred was conspicuous in the court and army of the duke, and his -military service was furnished by ten soldiers or knights. Two -marriages, of a rank not unworthy of his own, made him the father of -twelve sons, who were educated at home by the impartial tenderness of -his second wife. But a narrow patrimony was insufficient for this -numerous and daring progeny; they saw around the neighborhood the -mischiefs of poverty and discord, and resolved to seek in foreign wars a -more glorious inheritance. Two only remained to perpetuate the race and -cherish their father’s age; their ten brothers, as they successively -attained the vigor of manhood, departed from the castle, passed the -Alps, and joined the Apulian camp of the Normans. - -The elder were prompted by native spirit; their success encouraged their -younger brethren, and the three first in seniority--William, Drogo, and -Humphrey--deserved to be the chiefs of their nation and the founders of -the new republic. Robert was the eldest of the seven sons of the second -marriage, and even the reluctant praise of his foes has endowed him with -the heroic qualities of a soldier and a statesman. His lofty stature -surpassed the tallest of his army; his limbs were cast in the true -proportion of strength and gracefulness, and to the decline of life he -maintained the patient vigor of health and the commanding dignity of his -form. His complexion was ruddy, his shoulders were broad, his hair and -beard were long and of a flaxen color, his eyes sparkled with fire, and -his voice, like that of Achilles, could impress obedience and terror -amid the tumult of battle. In the ruder ages of chivalry such -qualifications are not below the notice of the poet or historian. They -may observe that Robert at once, and with equal dexterity, could wield -in the right hand his sword, his lance in the left; that in the battle -of Civitella he was thrice unhorsed, and that in the close of that -memorable day he was adjudged to have borne away the prize of valor from -the warriors of the two armies. His boundless ambition was founded on -the consciousness of superior worth; in the pursuit of greatness he was -never arrested by the scruples of justice, and seldom moved by the -feelings of humanity. Though not insensible of fame, the choice of open -or clandestine means was determined only by his present advantage. The -surname of _Guiscard_[21] was applied to this master of political -wisdom, which is too often confounded with the practice of dissimulation -and deceit; and Robert is praised by the Apulian poet for excelling the -cunning of Ulysses and the eloquence of Cicero. Yet these arts were -disguised by an appearance of military frankness; in his highest fortune -he was accessible and courteous to his fellow-soldiers, and, while he -indulged the prejudices of his new subjects, he affected in his dress -and manners to maintain the ancient fashion of his country. - -He grasped with a rapacious, that he might distribute with a liberal -hand; his primitive indigence had taught the habits of frugality; the -gain of a merchant was not below his attention, and his prisoners were -tortured with slow and unfeeling cruelty to force a discovery of their -secret treasure. According to the Greeks, he departed from Normandy with -only five followers on horseback and thirty on foot; yet even this -allowance appears too bountiful. The sixth son of Tancred of Hauteville -passed the Alps as a pilgrim, and his first military band was levied -among the adventurers of Italy. His brothers and countrymen had divided -the fertile lands of Apulia, but they guarded their shares with the -jealousy of avarice; the aspiring youth was driven forward to the -mountains of Calabria, and in his first exploits against the Greeks and -the natives it is not easy to discriminate the hero from the robber. To -surprise a castle or a convent, to ensnare a wealthy citizen, to plunder -the adjacent villages for necessary food, were the obscure labors which -formed and exercised the powers of his mind and body. The volunteers of -Normandy adhered to his standard; and, under his command, the peasants -of Calabria assumed the name and character of Normans. - -As the genius of Robert expanded with his fortune, he awakened the -jealousy of his elder brother, by whom, in a transient quarrel, his life -was threatened and his liberty restrained. After the death of Humphrey -the tender age of his sons excluded them from the command; they were -reduced to a private estate by the ambition of their guardian and uncle, -and Guiscard was exalted on a buckler and saluted Count of Apulia and -general of the republic. With an increase of authority and of force he -resumed the conquest of Calabria, and soon aspired to a rank that should -raise him forever above the heads of his equals. By some acts of rapine -or sacrilege he had incurred a papal excommunication, but Nicholas II -was easily persuaded that the divisions of friends could terminate only -in their mutual prejudice; that the Normans were the faithful champions -of the Holy See, and it was safer to trust the alliance of a prince than -the caprice of an aristocracy. A synod of one hundred bishops was -convened at Melphi, and the count interrupted an important enterprise to -guard the person and execute the decrees of the Roman pontiff. His -gratitude and policy conferred on Robert and his posterity the ducal -title, with the investiture of Apulia, Calabria, and all the lands, both -in Italy and Sicily, which his sword could rescue from the schismatic -Greeks and the unbelieving Saracens. This apostolic sanction might -justify his arms, but the obedience of a free and victorious people -could not be transferred without their consent, and Guiscard dissembled -his elevation till the ensuing campaign had been illustrated by the -conquest of Consenza and Reggio. In the hour of triumph he assembled his -troops, and solicited the Normans to confirm by their suffrage the -judgment of the vicar of Christ; the soldiers hailed with joyful -acclamations their valiant duke, and the counts, his former equals, -pronounced the oath of fidelity with hollow smiles and secret -indignation. - -After this inauguration Robert styled himself, “by the grace of God and -St. Peter, Duke of Apulia, Calabria, and hereafter of Sicily”; and it -was the labor of twenty years to deserve and realize these lofty -appellations. Such tardy progress in a narrow space may seem unworthy of -the abilities of the chief and the spirit of the nation, but the Normans -were few in number, their resources were scanty, their service was -voluntary and precarious. The bravest designs of the duke were sometimes -opposed by the free voice of his parliament of barons; the twelve counts -of popular election conspired against his authority, and against their -perfidious uncle the sons of Humphrey demanded justice and revenge. By -his policy and vigor Guiscard discovered their plots, suppressed their -rebellions, and punished the guilty with death or exile; but in these -domestic feuds his years and the national strength were unprofitably -consumed. After the defeat of his foreign enemies--the Greeks, -Lombards, and Saracens--their broken forces retreated to the strong and -populous cities of the sea-coast. They excelled in the arts of -fortification and defense; the Normans were accustomed to serve on -horseback in the field, and their rude attempts could only succeed by -the efforts of persevering courage. The resistance of Salerno was -maintained above eight months; the siege or blockade of Bari lasted -nearly four years. In these actions the Norman duke was the foremost in -every danger; in every fatigue the last and most patient. As he pressed -the citadel of Salerno a huge stone from the rampart shattered one of -his military engines, and by a splinter he was wounded in the breast. -Before the gates of Bari he lodged in a miserable hut or barrack, -composed of dry branches, and thatched with straw--a perilous station, -on all sides open to the inclemency of the winter and the spears of the -enemy. - -The Italian conquests of Robert correspond with the limits of the -present kingdom of Naples, and the countries united by his arms have not -been dissevered by the revolutions of seven hundred years. - - - - -THOMAS À BECKET, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. - -BY DAVID HUME. - - [Born in 1119, died by assassination in the Cathedral Church of - Canterbury in 1170. For a long time the Chancellor of England and - favorite adviser of the king, Henry II, he became on his - installation as archbishop the resolute advocate of papal - aggression against the rights and claims of the English kings to - the supreme control of national affairs.] - - -Thomas à Becket, the first man of English descent who, since the Norman -conquest, had, during the course of a whole century, risen to any -considerable station, was born of reputable parents in the city of -London; and being endowed both with industry and capacity, he early -insinuated himself into the favor of Archbishop Theobald, and obtained -from that prelate some preferments and offices. By their means he was -enabled to travel for improvement to Italy, where he studied the civil -and canon law at Bologna; and on his return, he appeared to have made -such proficiency in knowledge that he was promoted by his patron to the -Archdeaconry of Canterbury, an office of considerable trust and profit. -He was afterward employed with success by Theobald in transacting -business at Rome; and, on Henry’s accession, he was recommended to that -monarch as worthy of further preferment. Henry, who knew that Becket had -been instrumental in supporting that resolution of the archbishop which -had tended so much to facilitate his own advancement to the throne, was -already prepossessed in his favor; and finding, on further acquaintance, -that his spirit and abilities entitled him to any trust, he soon -promoted him to the dignity of chancellor, one of the first civil -offices in the kingdom. The chancellor, in that age, beside the custody -of the great seal, had possession of all vacant prelacies and abbeys; he -was the guardian of all such minors and pupils as were the king’s -tenants; all baronies which escheated to the crown were under his -administration; he was entitled to a place in council, even though he -were not particularly summoned; and as he exercised also the office of -secretary of state, and it belonged to him to countersign all -commissions, writs, and letters patent, he was a kind of prime minister, -and was concerned in the dispatch of every business of importance. -Besides exercising this high office, Becket, by the favor of the king or -archbishop, was made Provost of Beverley, Dean of Hastings, and -Constable of the Tower; he was put in possession of the honors of Eye -and Berkham, large baronies that had escheated to the crown; and, to -complete his grandeur, he was intrusted with the education of Prince -Henry, the king’s eldest son and heir of the monarchy. - -The pomp of his retinue, the sumptuousness of his furniture, the luxury -of his table, the munificence of his presents, corresponded to these -great preferments; or rather exceeded anything that England had ever -before seen in any subject. His historian and secretary, Fitz-Stephens, -mentions, among other particulars, that his apartments were every day in -winter covered with clean straw or hay, and in summer with green rushes -or boughs, lest the gentlemen who paid court to him, and who could not, -by reason of their great number, find a place at table, should soil -their fine clothes by sitting on a dirty floor. A great number of -knights were retained in his service; the greatest barons were proud of -being received at his table; his house was a place of education for the -sons of the chief nobility; and the king himself frequently vouchsafed -to partake of his entertainments. As his way of life was splendid and -opulent, his amusements and occupations were gay, and partook of the -cavalier spirit, which, as he had only taken deacon’s orders, he did not -think unbefitting his character. He employed himself at leisure hours in -hunting, hawking, gaming, and horsemanship; he exposed his person in -several military actions; he carried over, at his own charge, seven -hundred knights to attend the king in his wars at Toulouse; in the -subsequent wars on the frontiers of Normandy he maintained, during forty -days, twelve hundred knights, and four thousand of their train; and in -an embassy to France with which he was intrusted he astonished that -court with the number and magnificence of his retinue. - -Becket, who, by his complaisance and good humor, had rendered himself -agreeable, and by his industry and abilities useful, to his master, -appeared to him the fittest person for supplying the vacancy made by the -death of Theobald. As he was well acquainted with the king’s intentions -of retrenching, or rather confining within the ancient bounds, all -ecclesiastical privileges, and always showed a ready disposition to -comply with them, Henry, who never expected any resistance from that -quarter, immediately issued orders for electing him Archbishop of -Canterbury. But this resolution, which was taken contrary to the opinion -of Matilda and many of the ministers, drew after it very unhappy -consequences; and never prince of so great penetration appeared, in the -issue, to have so little understood the genius and character of his -minister. - -No sooner was Becket installed in this high dignity, which rendered him -for life the second person in the kingdom, with some pretentions of -aspiring to be the first, than he totally altered his demeanor and -conduct, and endeavored to acquire the character of sanctity, of which -his former busy and ostentatious course of life might, in the eyes of -the people, have naturally bereaved him. Without consulting the king, he -immediately returned into his hands the commission of chancellor, -pretending that he must thenceforth detach himself from secular affairs -and be solely employed in the exercise of his spiritual function, but in -reality, that he might break off all connections with Henry, and apprise -him that Becket, as Primate of England, was now become entirely a new -personage. He maintained in his retinue and attendants alone his ancient -pomp and luster, which was useful to strike the vulgar; in his own -person he affected the greatest austerity and most rigid mortification, -which, he was sensible, would have an equal or a greater tendency to the -same end. He wore sackcloth next his skin, which, by his affected care -to conceal it, was necessarily the more remarked by all the world; he -changed it so seldom, that it was filled with dirt and vermin; his usual -diet was bread, his drink water, which he even rendered further -unpalatable by the mixture of unsavory herbs; he tore his back with the -frequent discipline which he inflicted on it; he daily on his knees -washed, in imitation of Christ, the feet of thirteen beggars, whom he -afterward dismissed with presents; he gained the affection of the monks -by his frequent charities to the convents and hospitals; every one who -made profession of sanctity was admitted to his conversation, and -returned full of panegyrics on the humility as well as on the piety and -mortification of the holy primate; he seemed to be perpetually employed -in reciting prayers and pious lectures, or in perusing religious -discourses; his aspect wore the appearance of seriousness and mental -recollection and secret devotion; and all men of penetration plainly saw -that he was meditating some great design, and that the ambition and -ostentation of his character had turned itself toward a new and more -dangerous object. - -Four gentlemen of the king’s household, Reginald Fitz-Urse, William de -Traci, Hugh de Moreville, and Richard Brito, taking certain passionate -expressions to be a hint for Becket’s death, immediately communicated -their thoughts to each other, and, swearing to avenge their prince’s -quarrel, secretly withdrew from court. Some menacing expressions which -they had dropped gave a suspicion of their design, and the king -dispatched a messenger after them, charging them to attempt nothing -against the person of the primate; but these orders arrived too late to -prevent their fatal purpose. The four assassins, though they took -different roads to England, arrived nearly about the same time at -Saltwoode, near Canterbury, and being there joined by some assistants -they proceeded in great haste to the archiepiscopal palace. They found -the primate, who trusted entirely to the sacredness of his character, -very slenderly attended; and, though they threw out many menaces and -reproaches against him, he was so incapable of fear that, without using -any precautions against their violence, he immediately went to St. -Benedict’s Church to hear vespers. They followed him thither, attacked -him before the altar, and having cloven his head with many blows retired -without meeting any opposition. This was the tragical end of Thomas à -Becket, a prelate of the most lofty, intrepid, and inflexible spirit, -who was able to cover to the world, and probably to himself, the -enterprises of pride and ambition under the disguise of sanctity and of -zeal for the interests of religion: an extraordinary personage, surely, -had he been allowed to remain in his first station, and had directed the -vehemence of his character to the support of law and justice, instead of -being engaged, by the prejudices of the times, to sacrifice all private -duties and public connections to ties which he imagined or represented -as superior to every civil and political consideration. But no man who -enters into the genius of that age can reasonably doubt of this -prelate’s sincerity. - - - - -SALADIN. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [MALEK AL-NASIR SALAH ED-DIN ABU MODHAFER YUSUF, Sultan of Egypt - and Syria, born 1137, died 1193. Of Kurdish descent he finally rose - from a subordinate rank to royal power. His name stands embalmed in - history and tradition as the most noble and chivalrous of those - Saracen rulers whom the Christian powers fought against during the - Crusades.] - - -The hilly country beyond the Tigris is occupied by the pastoral tribes -of the Kurds, a people hardy, strong, savage, impatient of the yoke, -addicted to rapine, and tenacious of the government of their national -chiefs. The resemblance of name, situation, and manners, seems to -identify them with the Carduchians of the Greeks; and they still defend -against the Ottoman Porte the antique freedom which they asserted -against the successors of Cyrus. Poverty and ambition prompted them to -embrace the profession of mercenary soldiers; the service of his father -and uncle prepared the reign of the great Saladin, and the son of Job or -Ayub, a simple Kurd, magnanimously smiled at his pedigree, which -flattery deduced from the Arabian caliphs. So unconscious was Noureddin -of the impending ruin of his house that he constrained the reluctant -youth to follow his Uncle Shiracouh into Egypt; his military character -was established by the defense of Alexandria, and, if we may believe the -Latins, he solicited and obtained from the Christian general the -_profane_ honors of knighthood. On the death of Shiracouh, the office of -grand vizier was bestowed on Saladin, as the youngest and least powerful -of the emirs; but with the advice of his father, whom he invited to -Cairo, his genius obtained the ascendant over his equals, and attached -the army to his person and interest. While Noureddin lived, these -ambitious Kurds were the most humble of his slaves; and the indiscreet -murmurs of the divan were silenced by the prudent Ayub, who loudly -protested that at the command of the sultan he himself would lead his -son in chains to the foot of the throne. “Such language,” he added in -private, “was prudent and proper in an assembly of your rivals; but we -are now above fear and obedience, and the threats of Noureddin shall not -extort the tribute of a sugar-cane.” His seasonable death relieved them -from the odious and doubtful conflict; his son, a minor of eleven years -of age, was left for a while to the emirs of Damascus, and the new lord -of Egypt was decorated by the caliph with every title that could -sanctify his usurpation in the eyes of the people. - -Nor was Saladin long content with the possession of Egypt; he despoiled -the Christians of Jerusalem, and the Atabeks of Damascus, Aleppo, and -Diarbekir; Mecca and Medina acknowledged him for their temporal -protector; his brother subdued the distant regions of Yemen, or the -happy Arabia; and at the hour of his death, his empire was spread from -the African Tripoli to the Tigris, and from the Indian Ocean to the -mountains of Armenia. In the judgment of his character, the reproaches -of treason and ingratitude strike forcibly on _our_ minds, impressed, as -they are, with the principle and experience of law and loyalty. But his -ambition may in some measure be excused by the revolutions of Asia, -which had erased every notion of legitimate succession; by the recent -example of the Atabeks themselves; by his reverence to the son of his -benefactor, his humane and generous behavior to the collateral branches; -by _their_ incapacity and _his_ merit; by the approbation of the caliph, -the sole source of all legitimate power; and, above all, by the wishes -and interest of the people, whose happiness is the first object of -government. In _his_ virtues, and in those of his patron, they admired -the singular union of the hero and the saint; for both Noureddin and -Saladin are ranked among the Mahometan saints; and the constant -meditation of the holy war appears to have shed a serious and sober -color over their lives and actions. - -The youth of the latter was addicted to wine and women, but his aspiring -spirit soon renounced the temptations of pleasure for the graver follies -of fame and dominion. The garment of Saladin was of coarse woolen, water -was his only drink, and while he emulated the temperance, he surpassed -the chastity of his Arabian prophet. Both in faith and practice he was a -rigid Mussulman; he ever deplored that the defense of religion had not -allowed him to accomplish the pilgrimage of Mecca; but at the stated -hours, five times each day, the sultan devoutly prayed with his -brethren; the involuntary omission of fasting was scrupulously repaid, -and his perusal of the Koran on horseback between the approaching armies -may be quoted as a proof, however ostentatious, of piety and courage. -The superstitious doctrine of the sect of Shafei was the only study that -he deigned to encourage. The poets were safe in his contempt, but all -profane science was the object of his aversion, and a philosopher who -had vented some speculative novelties was seized and strangled by the -command of the royal saint. The justice of his divan was accessible to -the meanest suppliant against himself and his ministers; and it was only -for a kingdom that Saladin would deviate from the rule of equity. While -the descendants of Seljuk and Zenghi held his stirrup and smoothed his -garments, he was affable and patient with the meanest of his servants. -So boundless was his liberality that he distributed twelve thousand -horses at the siege of Acre; and, at the time of his death, no more than -forty-seven drachms of silver and one piece of gold coin were found in -the treasury; yet in a martial reign, the tributes were diminished, and -the wealthy citizens enjoyed without fear or danger the fruits of their -industry. Egypt, Syria, and Arabia, were adorned by the royal -foundations of hospitals, colleges, and mosques, and Cairo was fortified -with a wall and citadel; but his works were consecrated to public use, -nor did the sultan indulge himself in a garden or palace of private -luxury. In a fanatic age, himself a fanatic, the genuine virtues of -Saladin commanded the esteem of the Christians: the Emperor of Germany -gloried in his friendship, the Greek emperor solicited his alliance, and -the conquest of Jerusalem diffused, and perhaps magnified, his fame both -in the East and West. - - - - -HENRY II, KING OF ENGLAND. - -BY DAVID HUME. - - [Born 1113, died 1189. Henry was the grandson of Henry I, the - great-grandson of William the Conqueror by the distaff side, and - son of Geoffrey Plantagenet, Duke of Anjou. He was first of the - Plantagenet dynasty of English kings. His reign was brilliantly - distinguished by the further establishment of legal institutions - and a rigid regard for justice to all classes of his subjects.] - - -Thus died, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, and thirty-fifth of his -reign, the greatest prince of his time, for wisdom, virtue, and -abilities, and the most powerful in extent of dominion of all those that -had ever filled the throne of England. His character, in private as well -as in public life, is almost without a blemish, and he seems to have -possessed every accomplishment, both of body and mind, which makes a -man either estimable or amiable. He was of a middle stature, strong and -well proportioned; his countenance was lively and engaging; his -conversation affable and entertaining; his elocution easy, persuasive, -and ever at command. He loved peace, but possessed both bravery and -conduct in war, was provident without timidity, severe in the execution -of justice without rigor, and temperate without austerity. He preserved -health, and kept himself from corpulency, to which he was somewhat -inclined, by an abstemious diet and by frequent exercise, particularly -hunting. When he could enjoy leisure, he recreated himself either in -learned conversation or in reading, and he cultivated his natural -talents by study above any prince of his time. His affections, as well -as his enmities, were warm and durable, and his long experience of the -ingratitude and infidelity of men never destroyed the natural -sensibility of his temper, which disposed him to friendship and society. -His character has been transmitted to us by several writers who were his -contemporaries, and it extremely resembles, in its most remarkable -features, that of his maternal grandfather, Henry I, excepting only that -ambition, which was a ruling passion in both, found not in the first -Henry such unexceptionable means of exerting itself, and pushed that -prince into measures which were both criminal in themselves and were the -cause of further crimes, from which his grandson’s conduct was happily -exempted. - -This prince, like most of his predecessors of the Norman line, except -Stephen, passed more of his time on the Continent than in this island; -he was surrounded with the English gentry and nobility when abroad; the -French gentry and nobility attended him when he resided in England; both -nations acted in the government as if they were the same people; and, on -many occasions, the legislatures seem not to have been distinguished. As -the king and all the English barons were of French extraction, the -manners of that people acquired the ascendant, and were regarded as the -models of imitation. All foreign improvements, therefore, such as they -were, in literature and politeness, in laws and arts, seem now to have -been, in a good measure, transplanted into England, and that kingdom was -become little inferior, in all the fashionable accomplishments, to any -of its neighbors on the Continent. The more homely but more sensible -manners and principles of the Saxons were exchanged for the affectations -of chivalry and the subtleties of school philosophy; the feudal ideas of -civil government, the Romish sentiments in religion, had taken entire -possession of the people; by the former, the sense of submission toward -princes was somewhat diminished in the barons; by the latter, the -devoted attachment to papal authority was much augmented among the -clergy. The Norman and other foreign families established in England had -now struck deep root, and being entirely incorporated with the people, -whom at first they oppressed and despised, they no longer thought that -they needed the protection of the crown for the enjoyment of their -possessions, or considered their tenure as precarious. They aspired to -the same liberty and independence which they saw enjoyed by their -brethren on the Continent, and desired to restrain those exorbitant -prerogatives and arbitrary practices which the necessities of war and -the violence of conquest had at first obliged them to indulge in their -monarch. That memory also of a more equal government under the Saxon -princes, which remained with the English, diffused still further the -spirit of liberty, and made the barons both desirous of more -independence to themselves, and willing to indulge it to the people. And -it was not long ere this secret revolution in the sentiments of men -produced, first violent convulsions in the state, then an evident -alteration in the maxims of government. - -The history of all the preceding kings of England since the Conquest -gives evident proofs of the disorders attending the feudal -institutions--the licentiousness of the barons, their spirit of -rebellion against the prince and laws, and of animosity against each -other; the conduct of the barons in the transmarine dominions of those -monarchs afforded, perhaps, still more flagrant instances of these -convulsions, and the history of France during several ages consists -almost entirely of narrations of this nature. The cities, during the -continuance of this violent government, could neither be very numerous -nor populous, and there occur instances which seem to evince that, -though these are always the first seat of law and liberty, their police -was in general loose and irregular, and exposed to the same disorders -with those by which the country was generally infested. It was a custom -in London for great numbers, to the amount of a hundred or more, the -sons and relations of considerable citizens, to form themselves into a -licentious confederacy, to break into rich houses and plunder them, to -rob and murder the passengers, and to commit with impunity all sorts of -disorder. By these crimes it had become so dangerous to walk the streets -by night that the citizens durst no more venture abroad after sunset -than if they had been exposed to the incursions of a public enemy. The -brother of the Earl of Ferrars had been murdered by some of those -nocturnal rioters, and the death of so eminent a person, which was much -more regarded than that of many thousands of an inferior station, so -provoked the king that he swore vengeance against the criminals, and -became thenceforth more rigorous in the execution of the laws. - -Henry’s care in administering justice had gained him so great a -reputation that even foreign and distant princes made him arbiter, and -submitted their differences to his judgment. Sanchez, King of Navarre, -having some controversies with Alphonso, King of Castile, was contented, -though Alphonso had married the daughter of Henry, to choose this prince -for a referee; and they agreed, each of them to consign three castles -into neutral hands as a pledge of their not departing from his award. -Henry made the cause be examined before his great council, and gave a -sentence which was submitted to by both parties. These two Spanish kings -sent each a stout champion to the court of England, in order to defend -his cause by arms in case the way of duel had been chosen by Henry. - - - - -GENGHIS OR ZINGIS KHAN. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [An Asiatic conqueror, born about 1160, died 1227. His conquests - extended over the greater part of Asia, and touched Eastern Europe. - He belonged to that type exemplified by Alexander the Great, - Attila, Timour, and Napoleon, who made war for the mere passion and - glory of conquest, although he seems to have been by no means - destitute of generous and magnanimous qualities.] - - -From the spacious highlands between China, Siberia, and the Caspian Sea, -the tide of emigration and war has repeatedly been poured. These ancient -seats of the Huns and Turks were occupied in the twelfth century by many -pastoral tribes, of the same descent and similar manners, which were -united and (A.D. 1206-1227) led to conquest by the formidable Zingis. In -his ascent to greatness, that barbarian (whose private appellation was -Temugin) had trampled on the necks of his equals. His birth was noble, -but it was in the pride of victory that the prince or people deduced his -seventh ancestor from the immaculate conception of a virgin. His father -had reigned over thirteen hordes, which composed about thirty or forty -thousand families, above two thirds refused to pay tithes or obedience -to his infant son, and at the age of thirteen, Temugin fought a battle -against his rebellious subjects. The future conqueror of Asia was -reduced to fly and to obey, but he rose superior to his fortune, and in -his fortieth year he had established his fame and dominion over the -circumjacent tribes. In a state of society in which policy is rude and -valor is universal the ascendant of one man must be founded on his power -and resolution to punish his enemies and recompense his friends. His -first military league was ratified by the simple rites of sacrificing a -horse and tasting of a running stream; Temugin pledged himself to divide -with his followers the sweets and the bitters of life, and, when he had -shared among them his horses and apparel, he was rich in their gratitude -and his own hopes. After his first victory, he placed seventy caldrons -on the fire, and seventy of the most guilty rebels were cast headlong -into the boiling water. The sphere of his attraction was continually -enlarged by the ruin of the proud and the submission of the prudent; and -the boldest chieftains might tremble when they beheld, enchased in -silver, the skull of the khan of the Keraites, who, under the name of -Prester John, had corresponded with the Roman pontiff and the princes of -Europe. The ambition of Temugin condescended to employ the arts of -superstition, and it was from a naked prophet who could ascend to heaven -on a white horse that he accepted the title of Zingis, the _most great_, -and a divine right to the conquest and dominion of the earth. In a -general _couroultai_, or diet, he was seated on a felt, which was long -afterward revered as a relic, and solemnly proclaimed great khan, or -emperor, of the Moguls and Tartars. Of these kindred, though rival -names, the former had given birth to the imperial race, and the latter -has been extended, by accident or error, over the spacious wilderness of -the north. - -The code of laws which Zingis dictated to his subjects was adapted to -the preservation of domestic peace and the exercise of foreign -hostility. The punishment of death was inflicted on the crimes of -adultery, murder, perjury, and the capital thefts of a horse or an ox; -and the fiercest of men were mild and just in their intercourse with -each other. The future election of the great kahn was vested in the -princes of his family and the heads of the tribes, and the regulations -of the chase were essential to the pleasures and plenty of a Tartar -camp. The victorious nation was held sacred from all servile labors, -which were abandoned to slaves and strangers, and every labor was -servile except the profession of arms. The service and discipline of the -troops, who were armed with bows, cimeters, and iron maces, and divided -by hundreds, thousands, and ten thousands, were the institutions of a -veteran commander. Each officer and soldier was made responsible, under -pain of death, for the safety and honor of his companions; and the -spirit of conquest breathed in the law that peace should never be -granted unless to a vanquished and suppliant enemy. - -But it is the religion of Zingis that best deserves our wonder and -applause. The Catholic inquisitors of Europe, who defended nonsense by -cruelty, might have been confounded by the example of a barbarian, who -anticipated the lessons of philosophy, and established by his laws a -system of pure theism and perfect toleration. His first and only article -of faith was the existence of one God, the author of all good, who fills -by his presence the heavens and earth, which he has created by his -power. The Tartars and Moguls were addicted to the idols of their -peculiar tribes, and many of them had been converted by the foreign -missionaries to the religions of Moses, of Mahomet, and of Christ. These -various systems in freedom and concord were taught and practiced within -the precincts of the same camp, and the bonze, the imaum, the rabbi, the -Nestorian and the Latin priest, enjoyed the same honorable exemption -from service and tribute. In the mosque of Bokhara, the insolent victor -might trample the Koran under his horse’s feet, but the calm legislator -respected the prophets and pontiffs of the most hostile sects. The -reason of Zingis was not informed by books--the khan could neither read -nor write--and, except the tribe of the Igours, the greatest part of the -Moguls and Tartars were as illiterate as their sovereign. The memory of -their exploits was preserved by tradition; sixty-eight years after the -death of Zingis, these traditions were collected and transcribed. The -brevity of their domestic annals may be supplied by the Chinese, -Persians, Armenians, Syrians, Arabians, Greeks, Russians, Poles, -Hungarians, and Latins; and each nation will deserve credit in the -relation of their own disasters and defeats. - -The arms of Zingis and his lieutenants successively reduced the hordes -of the desert, who pitched their tents between the wall of China and the -Volga; and the Mogul emperor became the monarch of the pastoral world, -the lord of many millions of shepherds and soldiers, who felt their -united strength, and were impatient to rush on the mild and wealthy -climates of the south. His ancestors had been the tributaries of the -Chinese emperors, and Temugin himself had been disgraced by a title of -honor and servitude. The court of Pekin was astonished by an embassy -from its former vassal, who, in the tone of the king of nations, exacted -the tribute and obedience which he had paid, and who affected to treat -the _son of heaven_ as the most contemptible of mankind. A haughty -answer disguised their secret apprehensions, and their fears were soon -justified by the march of innumerable squadrons, who pierced on all -sides the feeble rampart of the great wall. Ninety cities were stormed, -or starved, by the Moguls; ten only escaped; and Zingis, from a -knowledge of the filial piety of the Chinese, covered his vanguard with -their captive parents--an unworthy, and by degrees a fruitless, abuse of -the virtue of his enemies. His invasion was supported by the revolt of -one hundred thousand Khitans who guarded the frontier, yet he listened -to a treaty, and a princess of China, three thousand horses, five -hundred youths and as many virgins, and a tribute of gold and silk were -the price of his retreat. In his second expedition, he compelled the -Chinese emperor to retire beyond the Yellow River to a more southern -residence. The siege of Pekin was long and laborious; the inhabitants -were reduced by famine to decimate and devour their fellow-citizens; -when their ammunition was spent, they discharged ingots of gold and -silver from their engines; but the Moguls introduced a mine to the -center of the capital, and the conflagration of the palace burned above -thirty days. China was desolated by Tartar war and domestic faction, and -the five northern provinces were added to the empire of Zingis. - -In the west he touched the dominions of Mohammed, sultan of Carizme, who -reigned from the Persian Gulf to the borders of India and Turkestan; and -who, in the proud imitation of Alexander the Great, forgot the servitude -and ingratitude of his fathers to the house of Seljuk. It was the wish -of Zingis to establish a friendly and commercial intercourse with the -most powerful of the Moslem princes; nor could he be tempted by the -secret solicitations of the caliph of Bagdad, who sacrificed to his -personal wrongs the safety of the Church and state. A rash and inhuman -deed provoked and justified the Tartar arms in the invasion of the -southern Asia. A caravan of three ambassadors and one hundred and fifty -merchants was arrested and murdered at Otrar, by the command of -Mohammed; nor was it till after a demand and denial of justice, till he -had prayed and fasted three nights on a mountain, that the Mogul emperor -appealed to the judgment of God and his sword. Our European battles, -says a philosophic writer, are petty skirmishes, if compared to the -numbers that have fought and fallen in the fields of Asia. Seven hundred -thousand Moguls and Tartars are said to have marched under the standard -of Zingis and his four sons. In the vast plains that extend to the north -of the Sihon or Jaxartes, they were encountered by four hundred thousand -soldiers of the sultan; and in the first battle, which was suspended by -the night, one hundred and sixty thousands Carizmians were slain. - -The Persian historians will relate the sieges and reduction of Otrar, -Cogende, Bochara, Samarcand, Carizme, Herat, Merou, Nisabour, Balch, and -Candahar; and the conquest of the rich and populous countries of -Transoxiana, Carizme, and Chorasan. The destructive hostilities of -Attila and the Huns have long since been elucidated by the example of -Zingis and the Moguls; and in this more proper place I shall be content -to observe, that, from the Caspian to the Indus, they ruined a tract of -many hundred miles, which was adorned with the habitations and labors of -mankind, and that five centuries have not been sufficient to repair the -ravages of four years. The Mogul conqueror yielded with reluctance to -the murmurs of his weary and wealthy troops, who sighed for the -enjoyment of their native land. Incumbered with the spoils of Asia, he -slowly measured back his footsteps, betrayed some pity for the misery of -the vanquished, and declared his intention of rebuilding the cities -which had been swept away by the tempest of his arms. After he had -repassed the Oxus and Jaxartes, he was joined by two generals, whom he -had detached with thirty thousand horse to subdue the western provinces -of Persia. They had trampled on the nations which opposed their passage, -penetrated through the gates of Derbend, traversed the Volga and the -Desert, and accomplished the circuit of the Caspian Sea, by an -expedition which had never been attempted and has never been repeated. -The return of Zingis was signalized by the overthrow of the rebellious -or independent kingdoms of Tartary; and he died in the fulness of years -and glory, with his last breath exhorting and instructing his sons to -achieve the conquest of the Chinese Empire. - - - - -SIMON DE MONTFORT, EARL OF LEICESTER. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [A valiant soldier, astute politician, and public-spirited reformer - of the thirteenth century, born about 1200, died 1265. The son of - that De Montfort who led the cruel crusade against the Albigenses - of southern France, Simon became in early life an English subject, - received the highest honors from Henry III, and also secured the - hand of his sister in marriage. He sympathized with and became a - leader of the English barons in demanding the necessary concessions - to complete and enforce that great charter wrung from King John at - Runnymede; and finally took up arms to constrain Henry. In the - civil war which ensued Simon of Montfort was for the most part - victorious, but finally found himself forsaken by the fickle - baronage whose cause he had espoused. He was obliged to throw - himself on the support of the people. In the last Parliament he - convoked, in the year of his death, he summoned knights and - burgesses to sit by the side of the barons and bishops, thus - creating a new force in the English constitution, which wrought a - great change in the political system of the country. He was slain - and his army defeated some months later at the battle of Evesham by - Prince Edward.] - - -When a thunderstorm once forced the king, as he was rowing on the -Thames, to take refuge at the palace of the Bishop of Durham, Earl Simon -of Montfort, who was a guest of the prelate, met the royal barge with -assurances that the storm was drifting away, and that there was nothing -to fear. Henry’s petulant wit broke out in his reply: “If I fear the -thunder,” said the king, “I fear you, Sir Earl, more than all the -thunder in the world.” - -The man whom Henry dreaded as the champion of English freedom was -himself a foreigner, the son of a Simon de Montfort whose name had -become memorable for his ruthless crusade against the Albigensian -heretics in southern Gaul. Though fourth son of this crusader, Simon -became possessor of the English earldom of Leicester, which he inherited -through his mother, and a secret match with Eleanor, the king’s sister -and widow of the second William Marshal, linked him to the royal house. -The baronage, indignant at this sudden alliance with a stranger, rose in -a revolt which failed only through the desertion of their head, Earl -Richard of Cornwall; while the censures of the Church on Eleanor’s -breach of a vow of chastity, which she had made at her first husband’s -death, were hardly averted by a journey to Rome. Simon returned to find -the changeable king quickly alienated from him and to be driven by a -burst of royal passion from the realm. He was, however, soon restored to -favor, and before long took his stand in the front rank of the patriot -leaders. In 1248 he was appointed governor of Gascony, where the stern -justice of his rule and the heavy taxation which his enforcement of -order made necessary earned the hatred of the disorderly nobles. The -complaints of the Gascons brought about an open breach with the king. To -Earl Simon’s offer of the surrender of his post if the money he had -spent in the royal service were, as Henry had promised, repaid him, the -king hotly retorted that he was bound by no promise to a false traitor. -Simon at once gave Henry the lie; “and but that thou bearest the name of -king it had been a bad hour for thee when thou utteredst such a word!” A -formal reconciliation was brought about, and the earl once more returned -to Gascony, but before winter had come he was forced to withdraw to -France. The greatness of his reputation was shown in an offer which its -nobles made him of the regency of their realm during the absence of King -Lewis on the crusade. But the offer was refused, and Henry, who had -himself undertaken the pacification of Gascony, was glad before the -close of 1253 to recall its old ruler to do the work he had failed to -do. - -Simon’s character had now thoroughly developed. He had inherited the -strict and severe piety of his father; he was assiduous in his -attendance on religious services, whether by night or day; he was the -friend of Grosseteste and the patron of the Friars. In his -correspondence with Adam Marsh we see him finding patience under his -Gascon troubles in the perusal of the Book of Job. His life was pure and -singularly temperate; he was noted for his scant indulgence in meat, -drink, or sleep. Socially he was cheerful and pleasant in talk; but his -natural temper was quick and ardent, his sense of honor keen, his speech -rapid and trenchant. His impatience of contradiction, his fiery temper, -were in fact the great stumbling-blocks in his after career. But the one -characteristic which overmastered all was what men at that time called -his “constancy,” the firm, immovable resolve which trampled even death -under foot in its loyalty to the right. The motto which Edward I chose -as his device, “Keep troth,” was far truer as the device of Earl Simon. -We see in his correspondence with what a clear discernment of its -difficulties both at home and abroad he “thought it unbecoming to -decline the danger of so great an exploit” as the reduction of Gascony -to peace and order; but once undertaken, he persevered in spite of the -opposition he met with, the failure of all support or funds from -England, and the king’s desertion of his cause, till the work was done. -There is the same steadiness of will and purpose in his patriotism. The -letters of Grosseteste show how early he had learned to sympathize with -the bishop in his resistance to Rome, and at the crisis of the contest -he offers him his own support and that of his associates. He sends to -Adam Marsh a tract of Grosseteste’s on “the rule of a kingdom and of a -tyranny,” sealed with his own seal. He listens patiently to the advice -of his friends on the subject of his household or his temper. “Better is -a patient man,” writes honest Friar Adam, “than a strong man, and he who -can rule his own temper than he who storms a city.” “What use is it to -provide for the peace of your fellow-citizens and not guard the peace of -your own household?” It was to secure “the peace of his -fellow-citizens” that the earl silently trained himself as the tide of -misgovernment mounted higher and higher, and the fruit of his discipline -was seen when the crisis came. While other men wavered and faltered and -fell away, the enthusiastic love of the people gathered itself round the -stern, grave soldier who “stood like a pillar,” unshaken by promise or -threat or fear of death, by the oath he had sworn. - -In England affairs were going from bad to worse. The Pope still weighed -heavily on the Church. Two solemn confirmations of the charter failed to -bring about any compliance with its provisions. In 1248, in 1249, and -again in 1255, the great council fruitlessly renewed its demand for a -regular ministry, and the growing resolve of the nobles to enforce good -government was seen in their offer of a grant on condition that the -chief officers of the crown were appointed by the council. Henry -indignantly refused the offer, and sold his plate to the citizens of -London to find payment for his household. The barons were mutinous and -defiant. “I will send reapers and reap your fields for you,” Henry had -threatened Earl Bigod of Norfolk when he refused him aid. “And I will -send you back the heads of your reapers,” retorted the earl. Hampered by -the profusion of the court and by the refusal of supplies, the crown was -penniless, yet new expenses were incurred by Henry’s acceptance of a -papal offer of the kingdom of Sicily in favor of his second son, Edmund. -Shame had fallen on the English arms, and the king’s eldest son, Edward, -had been disastrously defeated on the Marches by Llewelyn of Wales. The -tide of discontent, which was heightened by a grievous famine, burst its -bounds in the irritation excited by the new demands from both Henry and -Rome with which the year 1258 opened, and the barons repaired in arms to -a great council summoned at London. The past half-century had shown both -the strength and weakness of the charter--its strength as a -rallying-point for the baronage, and a definite assertion of rights -which the king could be made to acknowledge; its weakness in providing -no means for the enforcement of its own stipulations. Henry had sworn -again and again to observe the charter, and his oath was no sooner taken -than it was unscrupulously broken. - -The victory of Lewes placed Earl Simon at the head of the state. “Now -England breathes in the hope of liberty,” sang a poet of the time; “the -English were despised like dogs, but now they have lifted up their head -and their foes are vanquished.” The song announces with almost legal -precision the theory of the patriots. “He who would be in truth a king, -he is a ‘free king’ indeed if he rightly rule himself and his realm. All -things are lawful to him for the government of his kingdom, but nothing -for its destruction. It is one thing to rule according to a king’s duty, -another to destroy a kingdom by resisting the law.... Let the community -of the realm advise, and let it be known what the generality, to whom -their own laws are best known, think on the matter. They who are ruled -by the laws know those laws best; they who make daily trial of them are -best acquainted with them; and since it is their own affairs which are -at stake, they will take more care, and will act with an eye to their -own peace.... It concerns the community to see what sort of men ought -justly to be chosen for the weal of the realm.” The constitutional -restrictions on the royal authority, the right of the whole nation to -deliberate and decide on its own affairs, and to have a voice in the -selection of the administrators of government, had never been so clearly -stated before. - -It was impossible to make binding terms with an imprisoned king, yet to -release Henry without terms was to renew the war. A new Parliament was -summoned in January, 1265, to Westminster, but the weakness of the -patriotic party among the baronage was shown in the fact that only -twenty-three earls and barons could be found to sit beside the hundred -and twenty ecclesiastics. But it was just this sense of his weakness -that drove Earl Simon to a constitutional change of mighty issue in our -history. As before, he summoned two knights from every county. But he -created a new force in English politics when he summoned to sit beside -them two citizens from every borough. The attendance of delegates from -the towns had long been usual in the county courts when any matter -respecting their interests was in question; but it was the writ issued -by Earl Simon that first summoned the merchant and the trader to sit -beside the knight of the shire, the baron, and the bishop in the -Parliament of the realm. - - - - -EDWARD I, KING OF ENGLAND. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [Surnamed Longshanks, born 1239, crowned 1274, died 1307. Son of - Henry III, he defeated and slew Simon de Montfort in his father’s - reign and took part in the fourth crusade. On his accession to the - throne he completed the subjugation of Wales and in all ways - approved himself an able and powerful monarch. The most signal - events of his reign were those connected with the subjugation of - Scotland. At first successful, it was only in the last months of - his long reign that Robert Bruce’s coronation as King of the Scots - opened the way for a final defeat of English claims and arms under - Edward II.] - - -In his own time, and among his own subjects, Edward was the object of -almost boundless admiration. He was in the truest sense a national king. -At the moment when the last trace of foreign conquest passed away, when -the descendants of those who won and those who lost at Senlac blended -for ever into an English people, England saw in her ruler no stranger, -but an Englishman. The national tradition returned in more than the -golden hair or the English name which linked him to our earlier kings. -Edward’s very temper was English to the core. In good as in evil he -stands out as the typical representative of the race he ruled; like -them willful and imperious, tenacious of his rights, indomitable in his -pride, dogged, stubborn, slow of apprehension, narrow in sympathy, but -like them, too, just in the main, unselfish, laborious, conscientious, -haughtily observant of truth and self-respect, temperate, reverent of -duty, religious. He inherited, indeed, from the Angevins their fierce -and passionate wrath; his punishments, when he punished in anger, were -without pity; and a priest who ventured at a moment of storm into his -presence with a remonstrance dropped dead from sheer fright at his feet. -But for the most part his impulses were generous, trustful, averse from -cruelty, prone to forgiveness. “No man ever asked mercy of me,” he said, -in his old age, “and was refused.” The rough soldierly nobleness of his -nature breaks out at Falkirk, where he lay on the bare ground among his -men, or in his refusal during a Welsh campaign to drink of the one cask -of wine which had been saved from marauders. “It is I who have brought -you into this strait,” he said to his thirsty fellow-soldiers, “and I -will have no advantage of you in meat or drink.” A strange tenderness -and sensitiveness to affection lay, in fact, beneath the stern -imperiousness of his outer bearing. Every subject throughout his realm -was drawn closer to the king who wept bitterly at the news of his -father’s death, though it gave him a crown; whose fiercest burst of -vengeance was called out by an insult to his mother; whose crosses rose -as memorials of his love and sorrow at every spot where his wife’s bier -rested. “I loved her tenderly in her lifetime,” wrote Edward to -Eleanor’s friend the Abbot of Cluny; “I do not cease to love her now she -is dead.” And as it was with mother and wife, so it was with his people -at large. All the self-concentrated isolation of the earlier Angevins -disappears in Edward. He was the first English king since the Conquest -who loved his people with a personal love and craved for their love back -again. To his trust in them we owe our Parliament, to his care for them -the great statutes which stand in the forefront of our laws. Even in -his struggles with her England understood a temper which was so -perfectly her own, and the quarrels between king and people during his -reign are quarrels where, doggedly as they fought, neither disputant -doubted for a moment the worth or affection of the other. Few scenes in -our history are more touching than that which closes the long contest -over the charter, when Edward stood face to face with his people in -Westminster Hall, and with a sudden burst of tears owned himself frankly -in the wrong. - -But it was just this sensitiveness, this openness to outer impressions -and outer influences, that led to the strange contradictions which meet -us in Edward’s career. Under the first king, whose temper was distinctly -English, a foreign influence told most fatally on our manners, our -literature, our national spirit. The rise of France into a compact and -organized monarchy from the time of Philip Augustus was now making its -influence dominant in Western Europe. The “chivalry” so familiar in -Froissart, that picturesque mimicry of high sentiment, of heroism, love, -and courtesy, before which all depth and reality of nobleness -disappeared to make room for the coarsest profligacy, the narrowest -caste-spirit, and a brutal indifference to human suffering, was -specially of French creation. There was a nobleness in Edward’s nature -from which the baser influences of this chivalry fell away. His life was -pure, his piety, save when it stooped to the superstition of the time, -manly and sincere, while his high sense of duty saved him from the -frivolous self-indulgence of his successors. But he was far from being -wholly free from the taint of his age. His passionate desire was to be a -model of the fashionable chivalry of his day. He had been famous from -his very youth as a consummate general; Earl Simon had admired the skill -of his advance at Evesham, and in his Welsh campaign he had shown a -tenacity and force of will which wrested victory out of the midst of -defeat. He could head a furious charge of horse at Lewes, or organize a -commissariat which enabled him to move army after army across the -harried Lowlands. In his old age he was quick to discover the value of -the English archery, and to employ it as a means of victory at Falkirk. -But his fame as a general seemed a small thing to Edward when compared -with his fame as a knight. He shared to the full his people’s love of -hard fighting. His frame, indeed, was that of a born soldier--tall, -deep-chested, long of limb, capable alike of endurance or action. When -he encountered Adam Gurdon, a knight of gigantic size and renowned -prowess, after Evesham, he forced him single-handed to beg for mercy. At -the opening of his reign he saved his life by sheer fighting in a -tournament at Challon. It was this love of adventure which lent itself -to the frivolous unreality of the new chivalry. At his “Round Table of -Kenilworth” a hundred lords and ladies, “clad all in silk,” renewed the -faded glories of Arthur’s court. The false air of romance which was soon -to turn the gravest political resolutions into outbursts of sentimental -feeling appeared in his “Vow of the Swan,” when rising at the royal -board he swore on the dish before him to avenge on Scotland the murder -of Comyn. Chivalry exerted on him a yet more fatal influence in its -narrowing of his sympathy to the noble class, and in its exclusion of -the peasant and the craftsman from all claim to pity. “Knight without -reproach” as he was, he looked calmly on at the massacre of the burghers -of Berwick, and saw in William Wallace nothing but a common robber. - -Hardly less powerful than the French notion of chivalry in its influence -on Edward’s mind was the new French conception of kingship, feudality, -and law. The rise of a lawyer class was everywhere hardening customary -into written rights, allegiance into subjection, loose ties, such as -commendation, into a definite vassalage. But it was specially through -French influence, the influence of St. Lewis and his successors, that -the imperial theories of the Roman law were brought to bear upon this -natural tendency of the time. When the “sacred majesty” of the Cæsars -was transferred by a legal fiction to the royal head of a feudal -baronage, every constitutional relation was changed. The “defiance” by -which a vassal renounced service to his lord became treason, his -after-resistance “sacrilege.” That Edward could appreciate what was -sound and noble in the legal spirit around him was shown in his reforms -of our judicature and our Parliament; but there was something as -congenial to his mind in its definiteness, its rigidity, its narrow -technicalities. He was never willfully unjust, but he was too often -captious in his justice, fond of legal chicanery, prompt to take -advantage of the letter of the law. The high conception of royalty which -he had borrowed from St. Lewis united with this legal turn of mind in -the worst acts of his reign. Of rights or liberties unregistered in -charter or roll Edward would know nothing, while his own good sense was -overpowered by the majesty of his crown. It was incredible to him that -Scotland should revolt against a legal bargain which made her national -independence conditional on the terms extorted from a claimant of her -throne; nor could he view in any other light but as treason the -resistance of his own baronage to an arbitrary taxation which their -fathers had borne. It is in the very anomalies of such a character, in -its strange union of justice and wrong-doing, of nobleness and meanness, -that we must look for any fair explanation of much that has since been -bitterly blamed in Edward’s conduct and policy. - - - - -ROBERT BRUCE. - -BY SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON. - - [Born Lord of Annandale and Earl of Carrick 1274, died King of - Scotland 1329. Robert Bruce was descended from the younger branch - of the royal line of Scotland, to which succession had reverted by - the death of Margaret, the “Maiden of Norway.” Brought up in the - English court, where he was a favorite of Edward I, who claimed to - be over-lord of Scotland, and, as such, feudal superior of her - kings, he had vacillated in his course in the wars which had been - carried on by Edward to enforce that claim. In 1306 he threw off - all indecision, accepted the Scottish crown, and was invested at - Scone. Severely defeated at the beginning by the lieutenants of - Edward, he was relieved, by the death of the latter while marching - to take personal command, of his most dangerous antagonist. Edward - II for some years did not push aggression against Scotland, and the - Scottish monarch had recovered nearly all his dominions, when - Edward marched against him with a great army. The Scots gained an - overwhelming victory at the battle of Bannockburn in 1314, and - royal Scottish authority was re-established. The complete - independence of Scotland was not acknowledged however, till 1328, - in the reign of Edward III.] - - -Toward a due understanding of the extraordinary merits of Robert Bruce -it is necessary to take a cursory view of the power with which he had to -contend and of the resources of that kingdom, which, at that critical -juncture, Providence committed to his charge. The power of England, -against which it was his lot to struggle, was, perhaps, the most -formidable which then existed in Europe. The native valor of her people, -distinguished even under the weakest reign, was then led on and animated -by a numerous and valiant feudal nobility. That bold and romantic spirit -of enterprise which led the Norman arms to the throne of England and -enabled Roger de Hauteville, with thirty followers, to win the crown of -the Two Sicilies still animated the English nobles; and to this -hereditary spirit was added the remembrance of the matchless glories -which their arms had acquired in Palestine. - -The barons who were then arrayed against Robert Bruce were the -descendants of those iron warriors who combated for Christendom under -the walls of Acre, and defeated the whole Saracen strength in the battle -of Ascalon; the banners that were then unfurled for the conquest of -Scotland were those which had waved victorious over the arms of Saladin; -and the sovereign who led them bore the crown that had been worn by -Richard in the Holy Wars, and wielded in his sword the terror of that -mighty name at which even the accumulated hosts of Asia were appalled. - -Nor were the resources of England less formidable for nourishing and -maintaining the war. The prosperity which had grown up with the equal -laws of our Saxon ancestors, and which the tyranny of the early Norman -kings had never completely extinguished, had revived and spread under -the wise and beneficent reigns of Henry II and Edward I. The legislative -wisdom of the last monarch had given to the English law greater -improvements than it had ever received in any subsequent reigns, while -his heroic valor had subdued the rebellious spirit of his barons and -trained their united strength to submission to the throne. The -acquisition of Wales had removed the only weak point of his wide -dominion and added a cruel and savage race to the already formidable -mass of his armies. The navy of England already ruled the seas, and was -prepared to carry ravage and desolation over the wide and defenseless -Scottish coast; while a hundred thousand men armed in the magnificent -array of feudal war and led on by the ambition of a feudal nobility -poured into a country which seemed destined only to be their prey. - -But, most of all, in the ranks of this army were found the intrepid -yeomanry of England--that peculiar and valuable body of men which has in -every age contributed as much to the stability of English character as -the celebrity of the English arms, and which then composed those -terrible archers whose prowess rendered them so formidable to all the -armies of Europe. These men, whose valor was warmed by the consciousness -of personal freedom and whose strength was nursed among the inclosed -fields and green pastures of English liberty, conferred, till the -discovery of firearms rendered personal accomplishments of no avail, a -matchless advantage on the English armies. The troops of no other nation -could produce a body of men in the least comparable to them, either in -strength, discipline, or individual valor; and such was the dreadful -efficacy with which they used their weapons that not only did they -mainly contribute to the subsequent triumphs of Cressy and Azincourt, -but at Poitiers and Hamildon Hill they alone gained the victory, with -hardly any assistance from the feudal tenantry. - -These troops were well known to the Scottish soldiers, and had -established their superiority over them in many bloody battles, in which -the utmost efforts of undisciplined valor had been found unavailing -against their practiced discipline and superior equipment. The very -names of the barons who headed them were associated with an unbroken -career of conquest and renown, and can hardly be read yet without a -feeling of exultation. - - Names that to fear were never known, - Bold Norfolk’s Earl de Brotherton - And Oxford’s famed De Vere; - Ross, Montague, and Manly came, - And Courtney’s pride and Percy’s fame, - Names known too well in Scotland’s war - At Falkirk, Methoven, and Dunbar, - Blazed broader yet in after years - At Cressy red and fell Poitiers. - -Against this terrible force, before which in the succeeding reign the -military power of France was compelled to bow, Bruce had to array the -scanty troops of a barren land and the divided force of a turbulent -nobility. Scotland was in his time fallen low, indeed, from that state -of peace and prosperity in which she was found at the first invasion of -Edward I, and on which so much light has been thrown by the ingenious -research of our own times. The disputed succession had sowed the seeds -of inextinguishable jealousies among the nobles. The gold of England had -corrupted many to betray their country’s cause; and the fatal ravages of -English invasion had desolated the whole plains, from which resources -for carrying on the war could be drawn. - -All the heroic valor, the devoted patriotism, and the personal prowess -of Wallace had been unable to stem the torrent of English invasion; and -when he died the whole nation seemed to sink under the load against -which his unexampled fortitude had long enabled it to struggle. These -unhappy jealousies among the nobles, to which his downfall was owing, -still continued and almost rendered hopeless any attempt to combine -their forces; while the thinned population and ruined husbandry of the -country seemed to prognosticate nothing but utter extirpation from a -continuance of the war. Nor was the prospect less melancholy from a -consideration of the combats which had taken place. The short spear and -light shield of the Scotch had been found utterly unavailing against the -iron panoply and powerful horses of the English barons, while the hardy -and courageous mountaineers perished in vain under the dreadful tempest -of the English archery. - -What, then, must have been the courage of the youthful prince, who, -after having been driven for shelter to an island on the north of -Ireland, could venture with only forty followers to raise the standard -of independence in Scotland against the accumulated force of this mighty -power! What the resources of that understanding, which, though -intimately acquainted from personal service with the tried superiority -of the English arms, could foresee in his barren and exhausted country -the means of combatting them! What the ability of that political conduct -which could reunite the jarring interests and smother the deadly feuds -of the Scottish nobles! And what the capacity of that noble warrior who, -in the words of the contemporary historian,[22] could “unite the prowess -of the first knight to the conduct of the greatest general of his age,” -and was able in the space of six years to raise the Scottish arms from -the lowest point of depression to such a pitch of glory that even the -redoubted archers and haughty chivalry of England fled at the sight of -the Scottish banner! - -Nor was it only in the field that the great and patriotic conduct of -Robert Bruce was displayed. In endeavor to restore the almost ruined -fortunes of his country and to heal the wounds which a war of -unparalleled severity had brought upon this people he exhibited the same -wise and beneficent policy. Under his auspicious rule, husbandry -revived, arts were encouraged, and the turbulent barons were awed into -subjection. Scotland recovered during his administration in a great -measure from the devastation that had preceded it; and the peasants, -forgetting the stern warrior in the beneficent monarch, long remembered -his sway under the name of the “good King Robert’s reign.” - -But the greatness of his character appeared most of all from the events -that occurred after his death. When the capacity with which he and his -worthy associates Randolph and Douglas had counterbalanced the -superiority of English arms was withdrawn, the fabric which they had -supported fell to the ground. In the very first battle which was fought -after his death at Hamildon Hill, a larger army than that which -conquered at Bannockburn was overthrown by the archers of England, -without a single knight couching his spear. Never at any subsequent -period was Scotland able to stand the more powerful arms of the English -yeomanry. Thenceforward her military history is little more than a -melancholy catalogue of continued defeats, occasioned rather by -treachery on the part of her nobles or incapacity in her generals than -any defect of valor in her soldiers; and the independence of the -monarchy was maintained rather by the terror which the name of Bruce and -the remembrance of Bannockburn had inspired than by the achievements of -any of the successors to his throne. - -The merits of Robert Bruce as a warrior are very generally acknowledged; -and the eyes of Scottish patriotism turn with the greater exultation to -his triumphs from the contrast which their splendor affords to the -barren annals of the subsequent reigns. But the important consequences -of his victories are not sufficiently appreciated. But for his bold and -unconquerable spirit, Scotland might have shared with Ireland the -severity of English conquest; and instead of exulting now in the -prosperity of our country, the energy of our peasantry, and the -patriotic spirit of our resident landed proprietors, we might have been -deploring with her an absent nobility, an oppressive tenantry, a bigoted -and ruined people. - - - - -EDWARD III, KING OF ENGLAND. - -BY DAVID HUME. - - [Son of Edward II of England and Isabella of France, born 1312, - crowned 1327, died 1377. Edward achieved the highest renown by his - Scotch and French wars, the latter of which he undertook as - claimant of the French throne through his mother. Though the latter - part of his life was marked by many misfortunes, the achievements - of his reign stamp it as among the most important in the earlier - English annals. It was not until this period that the English - language became universally recognized as the national speech, and - the various race elements were thoroughly welded and made - homogeneous.] - - -The English are apt to consider with peculiar fondness the history of -Edward III, and to esteem his reign, as it was one of the longest, the -most glorious, also, that occurs in the annals of their nation. The -ascendant which they then began to acquire over France, their rival and -supposed national enemy, makes them cast their eyes on this period with -great complacency, and sanctifies every measure which Edward embraced -for that end. But the domestic government of this prince is really more -admirable than his foreign victories; and England enjoyed, by the -prudence and vigor of his administration, a longer interval of domestic -peace and tranquillity than she had been blessed with in any former -period, or than she experienced for many ages after. He gained the -affections of the great, yet curbed their licentiousness; he made them -feel his power, without their daring, or even being inclined, to murmur -at it; his affable and obliging behavior, his munificence and -generosity, made them submit with pleasure to his dominion; his valor -and conduct made them successful in most of their enterprises; and their -unquiet spirits, directed against a public enemy, had no leisure to -breed those disturbances to which they were naturally so much inclined, -and which the frame of the government seemed so much to authorize. - -This was the chief benefit which resulted from Edward’s victories and -conquests. His foreign wars were in other respects neither founded in -justice nor directed to any salutary purpose. His attempt against the -King of Scotland, a minor and a brother-in-law, and the revival of his -grandfather’s claim of superiority over that kingdom were both -unreasonable and ungenerous; and he allowed himself to be too easily -seduced, by the glaring prospect of French conquests, from the -acquisition of a point which was practicable, and which, if attained, -might really have been of lasting utility to his country and his -successors. The success which he met with in France, though chiefly -owing to his eminent talents, was unexpected; and yet from the very -nature of things, not from any unforeseen accidents, was found, even -during his lifetime, to have procured him no solid advantages. But the -glory of a conqueror is so dazzling to the vulgar, the animosity of -nations is so violent, that the fruitless desolation of so fine a part -of Europe as France is totally disregarded by us, and is never -considered as a blemish in the character or conduct of this prince; and, -indeed, from the unfortunate state of human nature, it will commonly -happen that a sovereign of genius, such as Edward, who usually finds -everything easy in his domestic government, will turn himself toward -military enterprises, where alone he meets with opposition, and where -he has full exercise for his industry and capacity. - -It is remarked by an elegant historian that conquerors, though usually -the bane of human kind, proved often, in those feudal times, the most -indulgent of sovereigns. They stood most in need of supplies from their -people; and not being able to compel them by force to submit to the -necessary impositions, they were obliged to make them some compensation -by equitable laws and popular concessions. This remark is, in some -measure, though imperfectly, justified by the conduct of Edward III. He -took no steps of moment without consulting his Parliament and obtaining -their approbation, which he afterward pleaded as a reason for their -supporting his measures. The Parliament, therefore, rose into greater -consideration during his reign, and acquired more regular authority than -in any former time; and even the House of Commons, which during -turbulent and factious periods, was naturally depressed by the greater -power of the crown and barons, began to appear of some weight in the -constitution. In the later years of Edward, the king’s ministers were -impeached in Parliament, particularly Lord Latimer, who fell a sacrifice -to the authority of the Commons; and they even obliged the king to -banish his mistress by their remonstrances. Some attention was also paid -to the election of their members; and lawyers, in particular, who were -at that time men of character somewhat inferior, were totally excluded -from the House during several Parliaments. - -Edward granted about twenty parliamentary confirmations of the great -charter; and these concessions are commonly appealed to as proofs of his -great indulgence to the people and his tender regard for their -liberties. But the contrary presumption is more natural. If the maxims -of Edward’s reign had not been in general somewhat arbitrary, and if the -great charter had not been frequently violated, the Parliament would -never have applied for these frequent confirmations, which could add no -force to a deed regularly observed, and which could serve to no other -purpose than to prevent the contrary precedents from turning into a -rule, and acquiring authority. It was indeed the effect of the irregular -government during those ages that a statute which had been enacted some -years, instead of acquiring, was imagined to lose force by time, and -needed to be often renewed by recent statutes of the same sense and -tenor. Hence, likewise, that general clause, so frequent in old acts of -Parliament, that the statutes enacted by the king’s progenitors should -be observed--a precaution which, if we do not consider the circumstances -of the times, might appear absurd and ridiculous. The frequent -confirmations of the privileges of the Church proceeded from the same -cause. - -There is not a reign among those of the ancient English monarchs which -deserves more to be studied than that of Edward III, nor one where the -domestic transactions will better discover the true genius of that kind -of mixed government which was then established in England. The struggles -with regard to the validity and authority of the great charter were now -over; the king was acknowledged to lie under some limitations; Edward -himself was a prince of great capacity, not governed by favorites, not -led astray by any unruly passion, sensible that nothing could be more -essential to his interest than to keep on good terms with his people; -yet, on the whole, it appears, that the government at best was only a -barbarous monarchy, not regulated by any fixed maxims nor bounded by any -certain undisputed rights which in practice were regularly observed. The -king conducted himself by one set of principles, the barons by another, -the Commons by a third, the clergy by a fourth. All these systems of -government were opposite and incompatible; each of them prevailed in its -turn, as incidents were favorable to it; a great prince rendered the -monarchical power predominant; the weakness of a king gave reins to the -aristocracy: a superstitious age saw the clergy triumphant; the people, -for whom chiefly government was instituted, and who chiefly deserve -consideration, were the weakest of the whole. But the Commons, little -obnoxious to any other order, though they sunk under the violence of -tempests, silently reared their head in more peaceable times; and while -the storm was brewing were courted on all sides, and thus received still -some accession to their privileges, or at worst some confirmation of -them. - - - - -RIENZI. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Cola Gabrini Rienzi, the “last of the Roman tribunes,” born about - 1312, died by assassination during a popular _emeute_, 1354. - Inspired by his patriotic enthusiasm and made powerful by his - eloquence, Rienzi, during the troubles in Rome ensuing on the - removal of the Papal See to Avignon, organized an insurrection - against the turbulent and factious nobles. The latter were crushed - and driven from Rome, and Rienzi rose to supreme power under the - title of “tribune.” Success, however, corrupted the republican - virtues of the _parvenu_ tribune of the new republic; and his - arrogance and splendor soon laid heavy burdens of taxation on the - people, which provoked a reaction. He was finally driven from power - and compelled to seek safety in flight. The return of the barons - and their iron oppression, however, paved the way for the - successful return of Rienzi to the chief magistracy in 1354. - Unwarned by experience he again resumed the pomp and pride of - royalty, and was shortly after killed in an insurrection of the - citizens of Rome.] - - -In a quarter of the city which was inhabited only by mechanics and Jews, -the marriage of an innkeeper and a washerwoman produced the future -deliverer of Rome. From such parents Nicholas Rienzi Gabrini could -inherit neither dignity nor fortune; and the gift of a liberal -education, which they painfully bestowed, was the cause of his glory and -untimely end. The study of history and eloquence, the writings of -Cicero, Seneca, Livy, Cæsar, and Valerius Maximus elevated above his -equals and contemporaries the genius of the young plebeian; he perused -with indefatigable diligence the manuscripts and marbles of antiquity; -loved to dispense his knowledge in familiar language; and was often -provoked to exclaim: “Where are now these Romans? their virtue, their -justice, their power? Why was I not born in those happy times?” When the -republic addressed to the throne of Avignon an embassy of the three -orders, the spirit and eloquence of Rienzi recommended him to a place -among the thirteen deputies of the commons. The orator had the honor of -haranguing Pope Clement VI, and the satisfaction of conversing with -Petrarch, a congenial mind; but his aspiring hopes were chilled by -disgrace and poverty, and the patriot was reduced to a single garment -and the charity of the hospital. From this misery he was relieved by the -sense of merit or smile of favor; and the employment of apostolic notary -afforded him a daily stipend of five gold florins, a more honorable and -extensive connection, and the right of contrasting, both in words and -actions, his own integrity with the vices of the state. The eloquence of -Rienzi was prompt and persuasive; the multitude is always prone to envy -and censure; he was stimulated by the loss of a brother and the impunity -of the assassins; nor was it possible to excuse or exaggerate the public -calamities. - -A prophecy, or rather a summons, affixed on the church door of St. -George, was the first public evidence of his designs; a nocturnal (May -20, A.D. 1347) assembly of a hundred citizens on Mount Aventine, the -first step to their execution. After an oath of secrecy and aid, he -represented to the conspirators the importance and facility of their -enterprise; that the nobles, without union or resources, were strong -only in the fear of their imaginary strength; that all power, as well as -right, was in the hands of the people; that the revenues of the -apostolical chamber might relieve the public distress; and that the Pope -himself would approve their victory over the common enemies of -government and freedom. After securing a faithful band to protect his -first declaration, he proclaimed through the city, by sound of trumpet, -that on the evening of the following day all persons should assemble -without arms before the church of St. Angelo to provide for the -re-establishment of the good estate. The whole night was employed in the -celebration of thirty masses of the Holy Ghost, and in the morning, -Rienzi, bareheaded, but in complete armor, issued from the church, -encompassed by the hundred conspirators. - -The Pope’s vicar, the simple Bishop of Orvieto, who had been persuaded -to sustain a part in this singular ceremony, marched on his right hand, -and three great standards were borne aloft as the emblems of their -design. In the first, the banner of _liberty_, Rome was seated on two -lions, with a palm in one hand and a globe in the other; St. Paul, with -a drawn sword, was delineated in the banner of _justice_; and in the -third, St. Peter held the keys of _concord_ and _peace_. Rienzi was -encouraged by the presence and applause of an innumerable crowd, who -understood little and hoped much; and the procession slowly rolled -forward from the castle of St. Angelo to the Capitol. His triumph was -disturbed by some secret emotions which he labored to suppress; he -ascended without opposition, and with seeming confidence, the citadel of -the republic, harangued the people from the balcony, and received the -most flattering confirmation of his acts and laws. The nobles, as if -destitute of arms and counsels, beheld in silent consternation this -strange revolution; and the moment had been prudently chosen, when the -most formidable, Stephen Colonna, was absent from the city. On the first -rumor, he returned to his palace, affected to despise this plebeian -tumult, and declared to the messenger of Rienzi that at his leisure he -would cast the madman from the windows of the Capitol. The great bell -instantly rang an alarm, and so rapid was the tide, so urgent was the -danger, that Colonna escaped with precipitation to the suburb of St. -Laurence; from thence, after a moment’s refreshment, he continued the -same speedy career till he reached in safety his castle of Palestrina, -lamenting his own imprudence, which had not trampled the spark of this -mighty conflagration. A general and peremptory order was issued from the -Capitol to all the nobles that they should peaceably retire to their -estates; they obeyed, and their departure secured the tranquillity of -the free and obedient citizens of Rome. - -Never, perhaps, has the energy and effect of a single mind been more -remarkably felt than in the sudden though transient reformation of Rome -by the tribune Rienzi. A den of robbers was converted to the discipline -of a camp or convent; patient to hear, swift to redress, inexorable to -punish, his tribunal was always accessible to the poor and stranger; nor -could birth or dignity or the immunities of the Church protect the -offender or his accomplices. The privileged houses, the private -sanctuaries in Rome, on which no officer of justice would presume to -trespass, were abolished; and he applied the timber and iron of their -barricades in the fortifications of the Capitol. The venerable father of -the Colonna was exposed in his own palace to the double shame of being -desirous and of being unable to protect a criminal. A mule, with a jar -of oil, had been stolen near Capranica, and the lord of the Ursini -family was condemned to restore the damage and to discharge a fine of -four hundred florins for his negligence in guarding the highways. Nor -were the persons of the barons more inviolate than their lands or -houses, and, either from accident or design, the same impartial rigor -was exercised against the heads of the adverse factions. - -Peter Agapet Colonna, who had himself been senator of Rome, was arrested -in the street for injury or debt; and justice was appeased by the tardy -execution of Martin Ursini, who, among his various acts of violence and -rapine, had pillaged a shipwrecked vessel at the mouth of the Tiber. -His name, the purple of two cardinals, his uncles, a recent marriage, -and a mortal disease were disregarded by the inflexible tribune, who had -chosen his victim. The public officers dragged him from his palace and -nuptial bed; his trial was short and satisfactory; the bell of the -Capitol convened the people. Stripped of his mantle, on his knees, with -his hands bound behind his back, he heard the sentence of death, and, -after a brief confession, Ursini was led away to the gallows. After such -an example, none who were conscious of guilt could hope for impunity, -and the flight of the wicked, the licentious, and the idle soon purified -the city and territory of Rome. In this time (says the historian) the -woods began to rejoice that they were no longer infested with robbers; -the oxen began to plow; the pilgrims visited the sanctuaries; the roads -and inns were replenished with travelers; trade, plenty, and good faith -were restored in the markets; and a purse of gold might be exposed -without danger in the midst of the highway. As soon as the life and -property of the subject are secure, the labors and rewards of industry -spontaneously revive. Rome was still the metropolis of the Christian -world, and the fame and fortunes of the tribune were diffused in every -country by the strangers who had enjoyed the blessings of his -government. - -The deliverance of his country inspired Rienzi with a vast and perhaps -visionary idea of uniting Italy in a great federative republic, of which -Rome should be the ancient and lawful head, and the free cities and -princes the members and associates. His pen was not less eloquent than -his tongue, and his numerous epistles were delivered to swift and trusty -messengers. On foot, with a white wand in their hand, they traversed the -forests and mountains; enjoyed, in the most hostile states, the sacred -security of ambassadors; and reported, in the style of flattery or -truth, that the highways along their passage were lined with kneeling -multitudes, who implored Heaven for the success of their undertaking. -Beyond the Alps, more especially at Avignon, the revolution was the -theme of curiosity, wonder, and applause. Petrarch had been the private -friend, perhaps the secret counselor, of Rienzi; his writings breathe -the most ardent spirit of patriotism and joy; and all respect for the -Pope, all gratitude for the Colonna, was lost in the superior duties of -a Roman citizen. The poet-laureate of the Capitol maintains the act, -applauds the hero, and mingles with some apprehension and advice the -most lofty hopes of the permanent and rising greatness of the republic. - -While Petrarch indulged these prophetic visions the Roman hero was fast -declining from the meridian of fame and power; and the people who had -gazed with astonishment on the ascending meteor began to mark the -irregularity of its course and the vicissitudes of light and obscurity. -More eloquent than judicious, more enterprising than resolute, the -faculties of Rienzi were not balanced by cool and commanding reason; he -magnified in a tenfold proportion the objects of hope and fear; and -prudence, which could not have erected, did not presume to fortify his -throne. In the blaze of prosperity his virtues were insensibly tinctured -with the adjacent vices--justice with cruelty, liberality with -profusion, and the desire of fame with puerile and ostentatious vanity. -He might have learned that the ancient tribunes, so strong and sacred in -the public opinion, were not distinguished in style, habit, or -appearance from an ordinary plebeian; and that as often as they visited -the city on foot a single _viator_, or beadle, attended the exercise of -their office. The Gracchi would have frowned or smiled could they have -read the sonorous titles and epithets of their successor, “NICHOLAS, -SEVERE AND MERCIFUL; DELIVERER OF ROME; DEFENDER OF ITALY; FRIEND OF -MANKIND, AND OF LIBERTY, PEACE, AND JUSTICE; TRIBUNE AUGUST.” His -theatrical pageants had prepared the revolution; but Rienzi abused, in -luxury and pride, the political maxim of speaking to the eyes as well as -the understanding of the multitude. From nature he had received the -gift of a handsome person till it was swelled and disfigured by -intemperance; and his propensity to laughter was corrected in the -magistrate by the affectation of gravity and sternness. He was clothed, -at least on public occasions, in a party-colored robe of velvet or satin -lined with fur and embroidered with gold. The rod of justice, which he -carried in his hand, was a scepter of polished steel, crowned with a -globe and cross of gold, and inclosing a small fragment of the true and -holy wood. In his civil and religious processions through the city he -rode on a white steed, the symbol of royalty. The great banner of the -republic, a sun with a circle of stars, a dove with an olive-branch, was -displayed over his head; a shower of gold and silver was scattered among -the populace; fifty guards with halberds encompassed his person; a troop -of horse preceded his march, and their cymbals and trumpets were of -massy silver. - -These extraordinary spectacles might deceive or flatter the people; and -their own vanity was gratified in the vanity of their leader. But in his -private life he soon deviated from the strict rule of frugality and -abstinence; and the plebeians, who were awed by the splendor of the -nobles, were provoked by the luxury of their equal. His wife, his son, -his uncle (a barber in name and profession), exposed the contrast of -vulgar manners and princely expense; and without acquiring the majesty, -Rienzi degenerated into the vices of a king. - - - - -TIMOUR OR TAMERLANE. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Tamerlane, corruption of Timour Lenk (“the lame”), born 1336, died - 1405. One of the greatest conquerors of history, he was a second - Genghis Khan, whom he resembled much in character. His descendants - speedily lost the greater part of his conquests, and the last of - his family fell before the power of the English East India Company - in India, of which he had become a mere pensioner, though nominally - the “Great Mogul” and Emperor of Delhi.] - - -The conquest and monarchy of the world was the first object of the -ambition of Timour. To live in the memory and esteem of future ages was -the second wish of his magnanimous spirit. All the civil and military -transactions of his reign were diligently recorded in the journals of -his secretaries; the authentic narrative was revised by the persons best -informed of each particular transaction, and it is believed in the -empire and family of Timour that the monarch himself composed the -“Commentaries” of his life and the “Institutions” of his government. But -these cares were ineffectual for the preservation of his fame, and these -precious memorials in the Mogul or Persian language were concealed from -the world, or at least from the knowledge of Europe. The nations which -he vanquished exercised a base and impotent revenge; and ignorance has -long repeated the tale of calumny which had disfigured the birth and -character, the person, and even the name of _Tamerlane_. Yet his real -merit would be enhanced, rather than debased, by the elevation of a -peasant to the throne of Asia; nor can his lameness be a theme of -reproach, unless he had the weakness to blush at a natural, or perhaps -an honorable, infirmity. - -In the eyes of the Moguls, who held the indefeasible succession of the -house of Zingis, he was doubtless a rebel subject; yet he sprang from -the noble tribe of Berlass; his fifth ancestor, Carashar Nevian, had -been the vizier of Zagatai in his new realm of Transoxiana; and in the -ascent of some generations the branch of Timour is confounded, at least -by the females, with the imperial stem. He was born forty miles to the -south of Samarcand, in the village of Sebzar, in the fruitful territory -of Cash, of which his fathers were the hereditary chiefs, as well as of -a toman of ten thousand horse. His birth was cast on one of those -periods of anarchy which announce the fall of the Asiatic dynasties, and -opened a new field to adventurous ambition. The khans of Zagatai were -extinct, the emirs aspired to independence, and their domestic feuds -could only be suspended by the conquest and tyranny of the khans of -Kashgar, who, with an army of Getes or Calmucks, invaded the Transoxian -kingdom. - -From the twelfth year of his age, Timour had entered the field of -action; in the twenty-fifth he stood forth as the deliverer of his -country; and the eyes and wishes of the people were turned toward a hero -who suffered in their cause. The chiefs of the law and of the army had -pledged their salvation to support him with their lives and fortunes; -but in the hour of danger they were silent and afraid; and, after -waiting seven days on the hills of Samarcand, he retreated to the desert -with only sixty horsemen. The fugitives were overtaken by a thousand -Getes, whom he repulsed with incredible slaughter, and his enemies were -forced to exclaim, “Timour is a wonderful man; fortune and the divine -favor are with him.” But in this bloody action his own followers were -reduced to ten, a number which was soon diminished by the desertion of -three Carizmians. He wandered in the desert with his wife, seven -companions, and four horses; and sixty-two days was he plunged in a -loathsome dungeon, whence he escaped by his own courage and the remorse -of the oppressor. After swimming the broad and rapid stream of the -Jihoon, or Oxus, he led, during some months, the life of a vagrant and -outlaw, on the borders of the adjacent states. But his fame shone -brighter in adversity; he learned to distinguish the friends of his -person, the associates of his fortune, and to apply the various -characters of men for their advantage, and above all for his own. On his -return to his native country, Timour was successively joined by the -parties of his confederates, who anxiously sought him in the desert; nor -can I refuse to describe, in his pathetic simplicity, one of their -fortunate encounters. He presented himself as a guide to three chiefs, -who were at the head of seventy horse. “When their eyes fell upon me,” -says Timour, “they were overwhelmed with joy; and they alighted from -their horses; and they came and kneeled; and they kissed my stirrup. I -also came down from my horse, and took each of them in my arms. And I -put my turban on the head of the first chief; and my girdle, rich in -jewels and wrought with gold, I bound on the loins of the second; and -the third, I clothed in my own coat. And they wept, and I wept also; and -the hour of prayer was arrived, and we prayed. And we mounted our -horses, and came to my dwelling; and I collected my people, and made a -feast.” - -His trusty hands were soon increased by the bravest of the tribes; he -led them against a superior foe, and after some vicissitudes of war, the -Getes were finally driven from the kingdom of Transoxiana. He had done -much for his own glory, but much remained to be done, much art to be -exerted, and some blood to be spilled, before he could teach his equals -to obey him as their master. The birth and power of Emir Houssein -compelled him to accept a vicious and unworthy colleague, whose sister -was the best beloved of his wives. Their union was short and jealous; -but the policy of Timour in their frequent quarrels exposed his rival to -the reproach of injustice and perfidy; and, after a small defeat, -Houssein was slain by some sagacious friends, who presumed, for the last -time, to disobey the commands of their lord. - -At the age of thirty-four, and in a general diet or _couroultai_, he was -invested with imperial command, but he affected to revere the house of -Zingis; and while the Emir Timour reigned over Zagatai and the East, a -nominal khan served as a private officer in the armies of his servant. A -fertile kingdom, five hundred miles in length and in breadth, might have -satisfied the ambition of a subject; but Timour aspired to the dominion -of the world, and before his death the crown of Zagatai was one of the -twenty-seven crowns which he had placed on his head. - -The fame of Timour has pervaded the East and West; his posterity is -still invested with the imperial title; and the admiration of his -subjects, who revered him almost as a deity, may be justified in some -degree by the praise or confession of his bitterest enemies. Although he -was lame of a hand and foot, his form and stature were not unworthy of -his rank; and his vigorous health, so essential to himself and to the -world, was corroborated by temperance and exercise. In his familiar -discourse he was grave and modest, and, if he was ignorant of the Arabic -language, he spoke with fluency and elegance the Persian and Turkish -idioms. It was his delight to converse with the learned on topics of -history and science; and the amusement of his leisure hours was the game -of chess, which he improved or corrupted with new refinements. In his -religion he was a zealous though not perhaps an orthodox Mussulman; but -his sound understanding may tempt us to believe, that a superstitious -reverence for omens and prophecies, for saints and astrologers, was only -affected as an instrument of policy. - -In the government of a vast empire, he stood alone and absolute, without -a rebel to oppose his power, a favorite to seduce his affections, or a -minister to mislead his judgment. It was his firmest maxim that, -whatever might be the consequence, the word of the prince should never -be disputed or recalled; but his foes have maliciously observed that the -commands of anger and destruction were more strictly executed than those -of beneficence and favor. His sons and grandsons, of whom Timour left -six-and-thirty at his decease, were his first and most submissive -subjects; and whenever they deviated from their duty they were -corrected, according to the laws of Zingis, with the bastinado, and -afterward restored to honor and command. Perhaps his heart was not -devoid of the social virtues; perhaps he was not incapable of loving his -friends and pardoning his enemies; but the rules of morality are founded -on the public interest, and it may be sufficient to applaud the wisdom -of a monarch, for the liberality by which he is not impoverished, and -for the justice by which he is strengthened and enriched. To maintain -the harmony of authority and obedience, to chastise the proud, to -protect the weak, to reward the deserving, to banish vice and idleness -from his dominions, to secure the traveler and merchant, to restrain the -depredations of the soldier, to cherish the labors of the husbandman, to -encourage industry and learning, and, by an equal and moderate -assessment, to increase the revenue, without increasing the taxes--are -indeed the duties of a prince; but, in the discharge of these duties, he -finds an ample and immediate recompense. Timour might boast that at his -accession to the throne Asia was the prey of anarchy and rapine, while -under his prosperous monarchy a child, fearless and unhurt, might carry -a purse of gold from the east to the west. Such was his confidence of -merit, that from this reformation he derived an excuse for his victories -and a title to universal dominion. - -The following observations will serve to appreciate his claim to the -public gratitude; and perhaps we shall conclude that the Mogul emperor -was rather the scourge than the benefactor of mankind. If some partial -disorders, some local oppressions, were healed by the sword of Timour, -the remedy was far more pernicious than the disease. By their rapine, -cruelty, and discord, the petty tyrants of Persia might afflict their -subjects; but whole nations were crushed under the footsteps of the -reformer. The ground which had been occupied by flourishing cities, was -often marked by his abominable trophies--by columns or pyramids of human -heads. Astrakhan, Carizme, Delhi, Ispahan, Bagdad, Aleppo, Damascus, -Boursa, Smyrna, and a thousand others were sacked or burned or utterly -destroyed in his presence and by his troops; and perhaps his conscience -would have been startled if a priest or philosopher had dared to number -the millions of victims whom he had sacrificed to the establishment of -peace and order. His most destructive wars were rather inroads than -conquests. He invaded Turkistan, Kipzak, Russia, Hindostan, Syria, -Anatolia, Armenia, and Georgia, without a hope or a desire of preserving -those distant provinces. Thence he departed laden with spoil; but he -left behind him neither troops to awe the contumacious, nor magistrates -to protect the obedient natives. When he had broken the fabric of their -ancient government he abandoned them to the evils which his invasion had -aggravated or caused; nor were these evils compensated by any present or -possible benefits. - -The kingdoms of Transoxiana and Persia were the proper field which he -labored to cultivate and adorn as the perpetual inheritance of his -family. But his peaceful labors were often interrupted, and sometimes -blasted, by the absence of the conqueror. While he triumphed on the -Volga or the Ganges, his servants, and even his sons, forgot their -master and their duty. The public and private injuries were poorly -redressed by the tardy rigor of inquiry and punishment; and we must be -content to praise the “Institutions” of Timour, as the specious idea of -a perfect monarchy. Whatsoever might be the blessings of his -administration, they evaporated with his life. To reign, rather than to -govern, was the ambition of his children and grandchildren--the enemies -of each other and of the people. A fragment of the empire was upheld -with some glory by Sharokh, his youngest son; but after _his_ decease, -the scene was again involved in darkness and blood, and, before the end -of a century, Transoxiana and Persia were trampled by the Uzbecks from -the north, and the Turkomans of the black and white sheep. The race of -Timour would have been extinct, if a hero, his descendant in the fifth -degree, had not fled before the Uzbeck arms to the conquest of -Hindostan. His successors (the great Moguls) extended their sway from -the mountains of Cashmir to Cape Comorin, and from Candahar to the Gulf -of Bengal. Since the reign of Aurungzebe, their empire has been -dissolved, the treasures of Delhi have been rifled by a Persian robber, -and the richest of their kingdoms is now possessed by a company of -Christian merchants, of a remote island in the northern ocean.[23] - - - - -JEANNE D’ARC. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [A French heroine, otherwise known as La Pucelle and the Maid of - Orleans, date of birth uncertain, burned at the stake by English - influence as a sorceress at Rouen in 1431. Her enthusiasm and the - belief in the supernatural mission so inspired the French and - daunted the English as to turn the tide of war against the latter, - and was a main cause of ending that series of English invasions - which had imperiled the national existence of France.] - - -Jeanne d’Arc was the child of a laborer of Domrémy, a little village in -the neighborhood of Vaucouleurs on the borders of Lorraine and -Champagne. Just without the cottage where she was born began the great -woods of the Vosges, where the children of Domrémy drank in poetry and -legend from fairy ring and haunted well, hung their flower garlands on -the sacred trees, and sang songs to the “good people,” who might not -drink of the fountain because of their sins. Jeanne loved the forest; -its birds and beasts came lovingly to her at her childish call. But at -home men saw nothing in her but “a good girl, simple and pleasant in her -ways,” spinning and sewing by her mother’s side while the other girls -went to the fields, attended to the poor and sick, fond of church, and -listening to the church-bell with a dreamy passion of delight which -never left her. The quiet life was soon broken by the storm of war as it -at last came home to Domrémy. As the outcasts and wounded passed by the -young peasant-girl gave them her bed and nursed them in their sickness. -Her whole nature summed itself up in one absorbing passion: she “had -pity,” to use the phrase forever on her lip, “on the fair realm of -France.” - -As her passion grew she recalled old prophecies that a maid from the -Lorraine border should save the land; she saw visions; St. Michael -appeared to her in a flood of blinding light, and bade her go to the -help of the king and restore to him his realm. “Messire,” answered the -girl, “I am but a poor maiden; I know not how to ride to the wars, or to -lead men-at-arms.” The archangel returned to give her courage, and to -tell her of “the pity” that there was in heaven for the fair realm of -France. The girl wept, and longed that the angels who appeared to her -would carry her away, but her mission was clear. It was in vain that her -father, when he heard her purpose, swore to drown her ere she should go -to the field with men-at-arms. It was in vain that the priest, the wise -people of the village, the captain of Vaucouleurs, doubted and refused -to aid her. “I must go to the king,” persisted the peasant-girl, “even -if I wear my limbs to the very knees.... I had far rather rest and spin -by my mother’s side,” she pleaded, with a touching pathos, “for this is -no work of my choosing, but I must go and do it, for my Lord wills it.” -“And who,” they asked, “is your Lord?” “He is God.” Words such as these -touched the rough captain at last; he took Jeanne by the hand and swore -to lead her to the king. When she reached Chinon she found hesitation -and doubt. The theologians proved from their books that they ought not -to believe her. “There is more in God’s book than in yours,” Jeanne -answered, simply. At last Charles received her in the midst of a throng -of nobles and soldiers. “Gentle Dauphin,” said the girl, “my name is -Jeanne the Maid. The heavenly King sends me to tell you that you shall -be anointed and crowned in the town of Rheims, and you shall be -lieutenant of the heavenly King who is the King of France.” - -The girl was in her eighteenth year, tall, finely formed, with all the -vigor and activity of her peasant rearing, able to stay from dawn to -nightfall on horseback without meat or drink. As she mounted her -charger, clad in white armor from head to foot, with the great white -banner studded with _fleur-de-lis_ waving over her head, she seemed “a -thing wholly divine, whether to see or hear.” The ten thousand -men-at-arms who followed her from Blois, rough plunderers whose only -prayer was that of La Hire, “Sire Dieu, I pray you to do for La Hire -what La Hire would do for you were you captain-at-arms and he God,” left -off their oaths and foul living at her word and gathered round the -altars on their march. Her shrewd peasant humor helped her to manage the -wild soldiery, and her followers laughed over their camp-fires at the -old warrior who had been so puzzled by her prohibition of oaths that she -suffered him still to swear by his _bâton_. In the midst of her -enthusiasm her good sense never left her. The people crowded round her -as she rode along, praying her to work miracles, and bringing crosses -and chaplets to be blessed by her touch. “Touch them yourself,” she said -to an old Dame Margaret; “your touch will be just as good as mine.” But -her faith in her mission remained as firm as ever. “The Maid prays and -requires you,” she wrote to Bedford, “to work no more distraction in -France, but to come in her company to rescue the Holy Sepulchre from the -Turk.”--“I bring you,” she told Dunois when he sallied out of Orleans to -meet her, “the best aid ever sent to any one, the aid of the King of -Heaven.” - -The besiegers looked on overawed as she entered Orleans, and, riding -round the walls, bade the people look fearlessly on the dreaded forts -which surrounded them. Her enthusiasm drove the hesitating generals to -engage the handful of besiegers, and the enormous disproportion of -forces at once made itself felt. Fort after fort was taken till only the -strongest remained, and then the council of war resolved to adjourn the -attack. “You have taken your counsel,” replied Jeanne, “and I take -mine.” Placing herself at the head of the men-at-arms, she ordered the -gates to be thrown open, and led them against the fort. Few as they -were, the English fought desperately, and the Maid, who had fallen -wounded while endeavoring to scale its walls, was borne into a vineyard, -while Dunois sounded the retreat. “Wait a while!” the girl imperiously -pleaded, “eat and drink! So soon as my standard touches the wall you -shall enter the fort.” It touched, and the assailants burst in. On the -next day the siege was abandoned, and the force which had conducted it -withdrew in good order to the north. - -In the midst of her triumph, Jeanne still remained the pure, -tender-hearted peasant-girl of the Vosges. Her first visit as she -entered Orleans was to the great church, and there, as she knelt at -mass, she wept in such a passion of devotion that “all the people wept -with her.” Her tears burst forth afresh at her first sight of bloodshed -and of the corpses strewed over the battle-field. She grew frightened at -her first wound, and only threw off the touch of womanly fear when she -heard the signal for retreat. - -Yet more womanly was the purity with which she passed through the brutal -warriors of a mediæval camp. It was her care for her honor that had led -her to clothe herself in a soldier’s dress. She wept hot tears when told -of the foul taunts of the English, and called passionately on God to -witness her chastity. “Yield thee, yield thee, Glasdale,” she cried to -the English warrior whose insults had been foulest, as he fell wounded -at her feet; “you called me harlot! I have great pity on your soul.” But -all thought of herself was lost in the thought of her mission. It was in -vain that the French generals strove to remain on the Loire. Jeanne was -resolute to complete her task, and, while the English remained -panic-stricken around Paris, the army followed her from Gien through -Troyes, growing in number as it advanced, till it reached the gates of -Rheims. With the coronation of Charles, the Maid felt her errand to be -over. “O gentle king, the pleasure of God is done!” she cried, as she -flung herself at the feet of Charles VII, and asked leave to go home. -“Would it were his pleasure,” she pleaded with the archbishop, as he -forced her to remain, “that I might go and keep sheep once more with my -sisters and my brothers; they would be so glad to see me again!” - -The policy of the French court detained her while the cities of the -north of France opened their gates to the newly consecrated king. -Bedford, however, who had been left without money or men, had now -received re-enforcements, and Charles, after a repulse before the walls -of Paris, fell back behind the Loire, while the towns on the Oise -submitted again to the Duke of Burgundy. In this later struggle Jeanne -fought with her usual bravery, but with the fatal consciousness that her -mission was at an end, and during the defense of Compiègne she fell into -the power of the Bastard of Vendôme, to be sold by her captor into the -hands of the Duke of Burgundy, and by the duke into the hands of the -English. To the English her triumphs were victories of sorcery, and -after a year’s imprisonment she was brought to trial on a charge of -heresy before an ecclesiastical court with the Bishop of Beauvais at its -head. Throughout the long process which followed every art was employed -to entangle her in her talk. But the simple shrewdness of the -peasant-girl foiled the efforts of her judges. “Do you believe,” they -asked, “that you are in a state of grace?” “If I am not,” she replied, -“God will put me in it. If I am, God will keep me in it.” Her capture, -they argued, showed that God had forsaken her. “Since it has pleased God -that I should be taken,” she answered, meekly, “it is for the best.” -“Will you submit,” they demanded, at last, “to the judgment of the -Church militant?” “I have come to the King of France,” Jeanne replied, -“by commission from God and from the Church triumphant above; to that -Church I submit.... I had far rather die,” she ended, passionately, -“than renounce what I have done by my Lord’s command.” They deprived -her of mass. “Our Lord can make me hear it without your aid,” she said, -weeping. “Do your voices,” asked the judges, “forbid you to submit to -the Church and the Pope?” “Ah, no! Our Lord first served.” - -Sick, and deprived of all religious aid, it is no wonder that, as the -long trial dragged on and question followed question, Jeanne’s firmness -wavered. On the charge of sorcery and diabolical possession she still -appealed firmly to God. “I hold to my Judge,” she said, as her earthly -judges gave sentence against her, “to the King of Heaven and Earth. God -has always been my lord in all that I have done. The devil has never had -power over me.” It was only with a view to be delivered from the -military prison and transferred to the prisons of the Church that she -consented to a formal abjuration of heresy. She feared, in fact, among -the English soldiery those outrages to her honor, to guard against which -she had from the first assumed the dress of a man. In the eyes of the -Church her dress was a crime, and she abandoned it; but a renewed insult -forced her to resume the one safeguard left her, and the return to it -was treated as a relapse into heresy, which doomed her to death. A great -pile was raised in the market-place of Rouen where her statue stands -now. Even the brutal soldiers who snatched the hated “witch” from the -hands of the clergy and hurried her to her doom were hushed as she -reached the stake. One indeed passed to her a rough cross he had made -from a stick he held, and she clasped it to her bosom. “O Rouen, Rouen!” -she was heard to murmur, as her eyes ranged over the city from the lofty -scaffold, “I have great fear lest you suffer for my death.... Yes; my -voices were of God!” she suddenly cried, as the last moment came; “they -have never deceived me!” Soon the flames reached her, the girl’s head -sank on her breast, there was one cry of “Jesus!” “We are lost,” an -English soldier muttered, as the crowd broke up; “we have burned a -saint!” - - - - -MAHOMET OR MOHAMMED II. - -BY EDWARD GIBBON. - - [Surnamed the Great and the Victorious, born 1430, died 1481. His - main title to fame is that he consummated the dreams of his - predecessors, and after a siege of nearly two months, with a force - of two hundred and fifty thousand men and a large fleet, carried - the city of Constantinople by storm on May 29, 1453.] - - -The siege of Constantinople by the Turks attracts our first attention to -the person and character of the great destroyer. Mahomet II was the son -of the second Amurath; and though his mother had been decorated with the -titles of Christian and princess, she is more probably confounded with -the numerous concubines who peopled from every climate the harem of the -sultan. His first education and sentiments were those of a devout -Mussulman; and as often as he conversed with an infidel, he purified his -hands and face by the legal rites of ablution. Age and empire appear to -have relaxed this narrow bigotry; his aspiring genius disdained to -acknowledge a power above his own, and in his looser hours he presumed -(it is said) to brand the Prophet of Mecca as a robber and impostor. Yet -the sultan persevered in a decent reverence for the doctrine and -discipline of the Koran. His private indiscretion must have been sacred -from the vulgar ear, and we should suspect the credulity of strangers -and sectaries, so prone to believe that a mind which is hardened against -truth must be armed with superior contempt for absurdity and error. -Under the tuition of the most skillful masters, Mahomet advanced with an -early and rapid progress in the paths of knowledge; and, besides his -native tongue, it is affirmed that he spoke or understood five -languages--the Arabic, the Persian, the Chaldean or Hebrew, the Latin, -and the Greek. The Persian might indeed contribute to his amusement, and -the Arabic to his edification; and such studies are familiar to the -Oriental youth. In the intercourse of the Greeks and Turks, a conqueror -might wish to converse with the people over whom he was ambitious to -reign; his own praises in Latin poetry or prose might find a passage to -the royal ear; but what use or merit could recommend to the statesman or -the scholar the uncouth dialect of his Hebrew slaves? - -The history and geography of the world were familiar to his memory; the -lives of the heroes of the East, perhaps of the West, excited his -emulation; his skill in astrology is excused by the folly of the times, -and supposes some rudiments of mathematical science; and a profane taste -for the arts is betrayed in his liberal invitation and reward of the -painters of Italy. But the influence of religion and learning was -employed without effect on his savage and licentious nature. I will not -transcribe, nor do I firmly believe, the stories of his fourteen pages, -whose bellies were ripped open in search of a stolen melon, or of the -beauteous slave whose head he severed from her body, to convince the -Janizaries that their master was not the votary of love. His sobriety is -attested by the silence of the Turkish annals, which accuse three, and -three only, of the Ottoman line of the vice of drunkenness. - -But it can not be denied that his passions were at once furious and -inexorable; that in the palace, as in the field, a torrent of blood was -spilled on the slightest provocation; and that the noblest of the -captive youth were often dishonored by his unnatural lust. In the -Albanian war he studied the lessons, and soon surpassed the example, of -his father; and the conquest of two empires, twelve kingdoms, and two -hundred cities--a vain and flattering account--is ascribed to his -invincible sword. He was doubtless a soldier, and possibly a general. -Constantinople has sealed his glory; but if we compare the means, the -obstacles, and the achievements, Mahomet II must blush to sustain a -parallel with Alexander or Timour. Under his command, the Ottoman forces -were always more numerous than their enemies; yet their progress was -bounded by the Euphrates and the Adriatic, and his arms were checked by -Huniades and Scanderbeg, by the Rhodian knights and by the Persian king. - -In the reign of Amurath he twice (A.D. 1451, February 9--A. D. 1481, -July 2) tasted of royalty, and twice descended from the throne; his -tender age was incapable of opposing his father’s restoration, but never -could he forgive the viziers who had recommended that salutary measure. -His nuptials were celebrated with the daughter of a Turkoman emir, and -after a festival of two months he departed from Adrianople with his -bride to reside in the government of Magnesia. Before the end of six -weeks he was recalled by a sudden message from the divan, which -announced the decease of Amurath and the mutinous spirit of the -Janizaries. His speed and vigor commanded their obedience; he passed the -Hellespont with a chosen guard, and at a distance of a mile from -Adrianople, the viziers and emirs, the imams and cadis, the soldiers and -the people, fell prostrate before the new sultan. They affected to weep, -they affected to rejoice. He ascended the throne at the age of -twenty-one years, and removed the cause of sedition by the death, the -inevitable death, of his infant brothers. The ambassadors of Europe and -Asia soon appeared to congratulate his accession and solicit his -friendship, and to all he spoke the language of moderation and peace. -The confidence of the Greek emperor was revived by the solemn oaths and -fair assurances with which he sealed the ratification of the treaty; and -a rich domain on the banks of the Strymon was assigned for the annual -payment of three hundred thousand aspers, the pension of an Ottoman -prince, who was detained at his request in the Byzantine court. Yet the -neighbors of Mahomet might tremble at the severity with which a youthful -monarch reformed the pomp of his father’s household; the expenses of -luxury were applied to those of ambition, and a useless train of seven -thousand falconers was either dismissed from his service or enlisted in -his troops. In the first summer of his reign he visited with an army the -Asiatic provinces; but after humbling the pride, Mahomet accepted the -submission, of the Caramanian, that he might not be diverted by the -smallest obstacle from the execution of his great design. - -The Mahometan, and more especially the Turkish casuists, have pronounced -that no promise can bind the faithful against the interest and duty of -their religion, and that the sultan may abrogate his own treaties and -those of his predecessors. The justice and magnanimity of Amurath had -scorned this immoral privilege; but his son, though the proudest of men, -could stoop from ambition to the basest arts of dissimulation and -deceit. Peace was on his lips, while war was in his heart; he -incessantly sighed for the possession of Constantinople; and the Greeks, -by their own indiscretion, afforded the first pretense of the fatal -rupture. - -From the first hour of the memorable 29th of May, when the beleaguered -city was carried by storm, disorder and rapine prevailed in -Constantinople till the eighth hour of the same day, when the sultan -himself passed in triumph through the gate of St. Romanus. He was -attended by his viziers, bashaws, and guards, each of whom (says a -Byzantine historian) was robust as Hercules, dexterous as Apollo, and -equal in battle to any ten of the race of ordinary mortals. The -conqueror gazed with satisfaction and wonder on the strange though -splendid appearance of the domes and palaces, so dissimilar from the -style of Oriental architecture. In the hippodrome, or _atmeidan_, his -eye was attracted by the twisted column of the three serpents; and as a -trial of his strength he shattered with his iron mace or battle-axe the -under jaw of one of these monsters, which in the eyes of the Turks were -the idols or talismans of the city. At the principal door of St. Sophia -he alighted from his horse and entered the dome; and such was his -jealous regard for that monument of his glory, that on observing a -zealous Mussulman in the act of breaking the marble pavement, he -admonished him with his cimeter, that, if the spoil and captives were -granted to the soldiers, the public and private buildings had been -reserved for the prince. By his command the metropolis of the Eastern -Church was transformed into a mosque, the rich and portable instruments -of superstition had been removed; the crosses were thrown down, and the -walls, which were covered with images and mosaics, were washed and -purified and restored to a state of naked simplicity. On the same day, -or on the ensuing Friday, the _muezzin_ or crier ascended the most lofty -turret, and proclaimed the _ezan_, or public invitation, in the name of -God and his prophet. The imam preached, and Mahomet II performed the -_namaz_ of prayer and thanksgiving on the great altar where the -Christian mysteries had so lately been celebrated before the last of the -Cæsars. From St. Sophia he proceeded to the august but desolate mansion -of a hundred successors of the great Constantine, but which in a few -hours had been stripped of the pomp of royalty. A melancholy reflection -on the vicissitudes of human greatness forced itself on his mind; and he -repeated an elegant distich of Persian poetry: “The spider hath wove his -web in the imperial palace; and the owl hath sung her watch-song on the -towers of Afrasiab.” - - - - -LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. - -BY JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS. - - [Surnamed the “Magnificent,” born 1448, died 1492. The Medici - family had in the latter part of the fourteenth century become one - of the most influential and powerful in the Florentine Republic. It - had amassed vast wealth in the pursuits of commerce, and spent it - with the munificence of the most public-spirited princes. Cosmo de’ - Medici about the year 1420 became the leading man of the state, and - practically exercised control over the republic, though without - definite authority, as ruler. The splendor of the family culminated - in his grandson Lorenzo, who for a quarter of a century held the - powers of the state in the palm of his hand, and made the city of - Florence the most brilliant center of literature, learning, art, - and refined luxury in Europe. Though he curtailed the liberties of - the people, the city reached under him the highest degree of - opulence and power it had ever attained. Eminent as statesman, - poet, and scholar, the enthusiastic patron of authors and artists, - munificent in his endowment of schools and libraries, he was the - most favorable example of the Italian tyrants of the middle ages; - and his life was the source of a stream of influences which helped - to revolutionize his own age and that which succeeded it.] - - -In one point Lorenzo was inferior to his grandfather. He had no -commercial talent. After suffering the banking business of the Medici to -fall into disorder, he became virtually bankrupt, while his personal -expenditure kept continually increasing. In order to retrieve his -fortunes it was necessary for him to gain complete disposal of the -public purse. This was the real object of the constitutional revolution -of 1480, whereby his privy council assumed the active functions of the -state. Had Lorenzo been as great in finance as in the management of men, -the way might have been smoothed for his son Piero in the disastrous -year of 1494. - -If Lorenzo neglected the pursuit of wealth, whereby Cosmo had raised -himself from insignificance to the dictatorship of Florence, he -surpassed his grandfather in the use he made of literary patronage. It -is not paradoxical to affirm that in his policy we can trace the -subordination of a genuine love of art and letters to statecraft. The -new culture was one of the instruments that helped to build his -despotism. Through his thorough and enthusiastic participation in the -intellectual interests of his age, he put himself into close sympathy -with the Florentines, who were glad to acknowledge for their leader by -far the ablest of the men of parts in Italy. - -According as we choose our point of view, we may regard him either as a -tyrant, involving his country in debt and dangerous wars, corrupting the -morals and enfeebling the spirit of the people, and systematically -enslaving the Athens of the modern world for the sake of founding a -petty principality; or else as the most liberal-minded noble of his -epoch, born to play the first part in the Florentine Republic, and -careful to use his wealth and influence for the advancement of his -fellow-citizens in culture, learning, arts, and the amenities of life. -Savonarola and the Florentine historians adopt the former of these two -opinions. Sismondi, in his passion for liberty, arrays against Lorenzo -the political assassinations he permitted, the enervation of Florence, -the national debt incurred by the republic, and the exhausting wars with -Sixtus carried on in his defense. - -His panegyrists, on the contrary, love to paint him as the pacificator -of Italy, the restorer of Florentine poetry, the profound critic, and -the generous patron. The truth lies in the combination of these two -apparently contradictory judgments. Lorenzo was the representative man -of his nation at a moment when political institutions were everywhere -inclining to despotism, and when the spiritual life of the Italians -found its noblest expression in art and literature. The principality of -Florence was thrust upon him by the policy of Cosimo, by the vote of the -chief citizens, and by the example of the sister republics, all of whom, -with the exception of Venice, submitted to the sway of rulers. Had he -wished, he might have found it difficult to preserve the commonwealth in -its integrity. Few but _doctrinaires_ believed in a _governo misto_; -only aristocrats desired a _governo stretto_; all but democrats dreaded -a _governo largo_. And yet a new constitution must have been framed -after one of these types, and the Florentines must have been educated to -use it with discretion, before Lorenzo could have resigned his office of -dictator with any prospect of freedom for the city in his charge. Such -unselfish patriotism, in the face of such overwhelming difficulties, and -in antagonism to the whole tendency of the age, was not to be expected -from an oligarch of the Renaissance born in the purple, and used from -infancy to intrigue. - -Lorenzo was a man of marvelous variety and range of mental power. He -possessed one of those rare natures fitted to comprehend all knowledge -and to sympathize with the most diverse forms of life. While he never -for one moment relaxed his grasp on politics, among philosophers he -passed for a sage, among men of letters for an original and graceful -poet, among scholars for a Grecian sensitive to every nicety of Attic -idiom, among artists for an amateur gifted with refined discernment and -consummate taste. Pleasure-seekers knew in him the libertine who jousted -with the boldest, danced and masqueraded with the merriest, sought -adventures in the streets at night, and joined the people in their -May-day games and carnival festivities. The pious extolled him as an -author of devotional lauds and mystery-plays, a profound theologian, a -critic of sermons. He was no less famous for his jokes and repartees -than for his pithy apothegms and maxims, as good a judge of cattle as of -statues, as much at home in the bosom of his family as in the riot of an -orgy, as ready to discourse on Plato as to plan a campaign or to plot -the death of a dangerous citizen. - -An apologist may always plead that Lorenzo was the epitome of his -nation’s most distinguished qualities, that the versatility of the -Renaissance found in him its fullest incarnation. It was the duty of -Italy in the fifteenth century not to establish religious or -constitutional liberty, but to resuscitate culture. Before the -disastrous wars of invasion had begun, it might well have seemed even to -patriots as though Florence needed a Mæcenas more than a Camillus. -Therefore, the prince who in his own person combined all -accomplishments, who knew by sympathy and counsel how to stimulate the -genius of men superior to himself in special arts and sciences, who -spent his fortune lavishly on works of public usefulness, whose palace -formed the rallying-point of wit and learning, whose council-chamber was -the school of statesmen, who expressed his age in every word and every -act, in his vices and his virtues, his crimes and generous deeds, can -not be fairly judged by an abstract standard of republican morality. It -is nevertheless true that Lorenzo enfeebled and enslaved Florence. At -his death he left her socially more dissolute, politically weaker, -intellectually more like himself, than he found her. He had not the -greatness to rise above the spirit of his century, or to make himself -the Pericles instead of the Pisistratus of his republic. In other words, -he was adequate, not superior to, Renaissance Italy. - -This, then, was the man round whom the greatest scholars of the third -period assembled, at whose table sat Angelo, Poliziano, Cristoforo -Landino, Marsilio Ficino, Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Leo Battista -Alberti, Michael Angelo Buonarotti, Luigi Pulci. The mere enumeration of -these names suffices to awake a crowd of memories in the mind of those -to whom Italian art and poetry are dear. Lorenzo’s villas, where this -brilliant circle met for grave discourse or social converse, heightening -the sober pleasures of Italian country life with all that wit and -learning could produce of delicate and rare, have been so often sung by -poets and celebrated by historians that Careggi, Caffagiolo, and Poggio -a Cajano are no less familiar to us than the studious shades of Academe. -“In a villa overhanging the towers of Florence,” writes the austere -Hallam, moved to more than usual eloquence in the spirit-stirring beauty -of his theme, “on the steep slope of that lofty hill crowned by the -mother city, the ancient Fiesole, in gardens which Tully might have -envied, with Ficino, Landino, and Politian at his side, he delighted his -hours of leisure with the beautiful visions of Platonic philosophy, for -which the summer stillness of an Italian sky appears the most congenial -accompaniment.” As we climb the steep slope of Fiesole or linger beneath -the rose trees that shed their petals from Careggi’s garden walls, once -more in our imagination “the world’s great age begins anew”; once more -the blossoms of that marvelous spring unclose. While the sun goes down -beneath the mountains of Carrara, and the Apennines grow purple-golden, -and Florence sleeps beside the silvery Arno, and the large Italian stars -come forth above, we remember how those mighty master spirits watched -the sphering of new planets in the spiritual skies. Savonarola in his -cell below once more sits brooding over the servility of Florence, the -corruption of a godless church. Michael Angelo, seated between Ficino -and Poliziano, with the voices of the prophets vibrating in his memory, -and with the music of Plato sounding in his ears, rests chin on hand and -elbow upon knee, like his own Jeremiah, lost in contemplation, whereof -the after-fruits shall be the Sistine Chapel and the Medicean tombs. -Then, when the strain of thought, “unsphering Plato from the skies,” -begins to weary, Pulci breaks the silence with a brand-new canto of -Morgante, or a singing boy is bidden to tune his mandoline to Messer -Angelo’s last made _ballatta_. - - - - -GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. - -BY JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS. - - [An Italian reformer, a member of the Dominican order of monks, - born 1452, executed 1498. His fervid eloquence as a preacher, and - his fierce denunciation of the vice and corruption of the Italian - Renaissance speedily made Savonarola a power to be reckoned with in - Florentine affairs. After the death of Lorenzo the Magnificent, the - prophet’s activity extended to political as well as religious - ideals, and he preached an austere theocratic republic and the - deposition of the Pope. The return of the Medici family to power - was the downfall of Savonarola’s hopes; and he and two of his - companion reformers were strangled and their bodies burned.] - - -We now visit San Gemignano in order to study some fading frescoes of -Gozzoli and Ghirlandajo, or else for the sake of its strange feudal -towers, tall pillows of brown stone, crowded together within the narrow -circle of the town walls. Very beautiful is the prospect from these -ramparts on a spring morning, when the song of nightingales and the -scent of acacia flowers ascend together from the groves upon the slopes -beneath. The gray Tuscan landscape for scores and scores of miles all -round melts into blueness, like the blueness of the sky, flecked here -and there with wandering cloud-shadows. Let those who pace the -grass-grown streets of the hushed city remember that here the first -flash of authentic genius kindled in Savonarola’s soul. Here for the -first time he prophesied, “The Church will be scourged, then -regenerated, and this quickly.” These are the celebrated three -conclusions, the three points to which Savonarola in all his prophetic -utterances adhered. - -But not yet had he fully entered on his vocation. His voice was weak, -his style uncertain; his soul, we may believe still wavering between -strange dread and awful joy, as he beheld, through many a backward -rolling mist of doubt, the mantle of the prophets descend upon him. -Already he had abandoned the schoolmen for the Bible. Already he had -learned by heart each voice of the Old and New Testaments. Pondering on -their texts, he had discovered four separate interpretations for every -suggestion of Sacred Writ. For some of the pregnant utterances of the -prophets he found hundreds, pouring forth metaphor and illustration in -wild and dazzling profusion of audacious, uncouth imagery. The flame -which began to smolder in him at San Gemignano burst forth into a blaze -at Brescia, in 1486. Savonarola was now aged thirty-four. “Midway upon -the path of life,” he opened the book of Revelation; he figured to the -people of Brescia the four-and-twenty elders rising to denounce the sins -of Italy, and to declare the calamities that must ensue. He pictured to -them their city flowing with blood. His voice, which now became the -interpreter of his soul, in its resonance and earnestness and piercing -shrillness, thrilled his hearers with strange terror. Already they -believed his prophecy; and twenty-six years later, when the soldiers of -Gascon de Foix slaughtered six thousand souls in the streets of Brescia, -her citizens recalled the apocalyptic warnings of the Dominican monk. - -As Savonarola is now launched upon his vocation of prophecy, this is the -right moment to describe his personal appearance and his style of -preaching. We have abundant material for judging what his features were, -and how they flashed beneath the storm of inspiration. Fra Bartolommeo, -one of his followers, painted a profile of him in the character of St. -Peter Martyr. This shows all the benignity and grace of expression which -his stern lineaments could assume. It is a picture of the sweet and -gentle nature latent within the fiery arraigner of his nation at the bar -of God. In contemporary medals the face appears hard, keen, -uncompromising, beneath its heavy cowl. But the noblest portrait is an -intaglio engraved by Giovanni della Corniole, now to be seen in the -Uffizi at Florence. Of this work Michael Angelo, himself a disciple of -Savonarola, said that art could go no further. We are therefore -justified in assuming that the engraver has not only represented fully -the outline of Savonarola’s face, but has also indicated his peculiar -expression. - -A thick hood covers the whole head and shoulders. Beneath it can be -traced the curve of a long and somewhat flat skull, rounded into -extraordinary fullness at the base and side. From a deeply sunken -eye-socket emerges, scarcely seen, but powerfully felt, the eye that -blazed with lightning. The nose is strong, prominent, and aquiline, with -wide nostrils, capable of terrible dilation under the stress of vehement -emotion. The mouth has full, compressed, projecting lips. It is large, -as if made for a torrent of eloquence; it is supplied with massive -muscles, as if to move with energy and calculated force and utterance. -The jaw-bone is hard and heavy, the cheek-bone emergent; between the two -the flesh is hollowed, not so much with the emaciation of monastic -vigils as with the athletic exercise of wrestling in the throes of -prophecy. The face, on the whole, is ugly, but not repellent; and, in -spite of its great strength, it shows signs of feminine sensibility. -Like the faces of Cicero and Demosthenes, it seems the fit machine for -oratory. But the furnaces hidden away behind that skull, beneath that -cowl, have made it haggard with a fire not to be found in the serener -features of the classic orators. Savonarola was a visionary and a monk. - -The discipline of the cloister left its trace upon him. The wings of -dreams have winnowed and withered that cheek as they passed over it. The -spirit of prayer quivers upon those eager lips. The color of -Savonarola’s flesh was brown; his nerves were exquisitely sensitive yet -strong; like a network of wrought steel, elastic, easily overstrained, -they recovered their tone and temper less by repose than by the -evolution of fresh electricity. With Savonarola fasts were succeeded by -trances, and trances by tempests of vehement improvisation. From the -midst of such profound debility that he could scarcely crawl up the -pulpit steps, he would pass suddenly into the plenitude of power, -filling the Dome of Florence with denunciations, sustaining his -discourse by no mere trick of rhetoric that flows to waste upon the lips -of shallow preachers, but marshaling the phalanx of embattled arguments -and pointed illustrations, pouring his thought forth in columns of -continuous flame, mingling figures of sublimest imagery with reasonings -of severest accuracy, at one time melting his audience to tears, at -another freezing them with terror, again quickening their souls with -prayers and pleadings and blessings that had in them the sweetness of -the very spirit of Christ. - -His sermons began with scholastic exposition; as they advanced, the -ecstasy of inspiration fell upon the preacher, till the sympathies of -the whole people of Florence gathered round him, met and attained, as it -were, to single consciousness in him. He then no longer restrained the -impulse of his oratory, but became the mouth-piece of God, the -interpreter to themselves of all that host. In a fiery _crescendo_, -never flagging, never losing firmness of grasp or lucidity of vision, he -ascended the altar-steps of prophecy, and, standing like Moses on the -mount between the thunders of God and the tabernacles of the plain, -fulminated period after period of impassioned eloquence. The walls of -the church re-echoed with sobs and wailings, dominated by one ringing -voice. - -The scribe to whom we owe the fragments of these sermons at times breaks -off with these words: “Here I was so overcome with weeping that I could -not go on.” Pico della Mirandola tells us that the mere sound of -Savonarola’s voice, startling the stillness of the Duomo, thronged -through all its space with people, was like a clap of doom; a cold -shiver ran through the marrow of his bones, the hairs of his head stood -on end, as he listened. Another witness reports: “These sermons caused -such terror, alarm, sobbing, and tears that every one passed through the -streets without speaking, more dead than alive.” - -Such was the preacher, and such was the effect of his oratory. The theme -on which he loved to dwell was this: “Repent! A judgment of God is at -hand. A sword is suspended over you. Italy is doomed for her -iniquity--for the sins of the Church, whose adulteries have filled the -world--for the sins of the tyrants who encourage crime and trample upon -souls--for the sins of you people, you fathers and mothers, you young -men, you maidens, you children that lisp blasphemy!” Nor did Savonarola -deal in generalities. He described in plain language every vice; he laid -bare every abuse; so that a mirror was held up to the souls of his -hearers, in which they saw their most secret faults appallingly betrayed -and ringed around with fire. He entered with particularity into the -details of the coming woes. One by one he enumerated the bloodshed, the -ruin of cities, the trampling down of provinces, the passage of armies, -the desolating wars that were about to fall on Italy. You may read -pages of his sermons which seem like vivid narratives of what afterward -took place in the sack of Prato, in the storming of Brescia, in the -battle of the Ronco, in the cavern-massacre of Vicenza. No wonder that -he stirred his audience to their center. The hell within them was -revealed. The coming down above them was made manifest. Ezekiel and -Jeremiah were not more prophetic. John crying to a generation of vipers, -“Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” was not more weighty -with the mission of authentic inspiration. - -“I began,” Savonarola writes himself with reference to a course of -sermons delivered in 1491--“I began publicly to expound the Revelation -in our Church of St. Mark. During the course of the year I continued to -develop to the Florentines these three propositions: That the Church -would be renewed in our time; that before that renovation God would -strike all Italy with a fearful chastisement; that these things would -happen shortly.” It is by right of the foresight of a new age, contained -in these three famous so-called conclusions, that Savonarola deserves to -be named the Prophet of the Renaissance. He was no apostle of reform; it -did not occur to him to reconstruct the creed, to dispute the discipline -or to criticise the authority of the Church. He was no founder of a new -order; unlike his predecessors, Dominic and Francis, he never attempted -to organize a society of saints or preachers; unlike his successors, -Caraffe the Theatine, and Loyola the Jesuit, he enrolled no militia for -the defense of the faith, constructed no machinery for education. -Starting with simple horror at the wickedness of the world, he had -recourse to the old prophets. He steeped himself in Bible studies. He -caught the language of Malachi and Jeremiah. He became convinced that -for the wickedness of Italy a judgment was imminent. From that -conclusion he rose upon the wings of faith to the belief that a new age -would dawn. The originality of his intuition consisted in this, that -while Italy was asleep, and no man trembled for the future, he alone -felt that the stillness of the air was fraught with thunder, that its -tranquillity was like that which precedes a tempest blown from the very -nostrils of the God of hosts. - - - - -CÆSAR BORGIA. - -BY CHARLES YRIARTE. - - [Son of Pope Alexander VI, at first prelate, then soldier and - statesman, born about 1457, died 1507. All the contemporary annals - concur in giving Cæsar Borgia nearly every private vice, and stamp - him as murderer, sensualist, and a man of ruthless ambition. - Successively made bishop and cardinal in his earlier years, he was - finally secularized and became Duke of Romagna and Valentinois. - After having dispossessed the rulers of many small principalities - and united them into a duchy, he is believed to have nourished the - scheme of founding a united Italy. After some years of vicissitudes - Cæsar lost his political ascendency by the election of a pope - inimical to his interests, and his military power by the jealousy - of the Kings of France and Spain. A consummate soldier and - politician, he showed during the short period during which he - exercised the functions of a ruler all the traits of a wise, - upright, and public-spirited sovereign, in shining contrast with - the hideous crimes which had blackened his career as a man. Cæsar - Borgia was the model on which Machiavelli drew his “Prince,” in the - celebrated politico-historical treatise of that title.] - - -Was Cæsar merely going straight before him, led by the insatiable -ambition which lays hands upon all within its reach, or was he aiming at -a distinct end, at the realization of a vast conception? Granting that -he had no dreams of reconstituting the kingdom of Central Italy himself, -Florence at least felt herself threatened. As long ago as his first -campaign, when, after making himself master of Imola and Forli, he was -still besieging Cesena preparatory to his entry into Pesaro and his -progress to Rome by way of Urbino, the Florentine Republic had sent -Soderini on a mission to him, to find out his intentions and his terms. -The following year, with increased anxiety, as she felt herself -approached more closely through the taking of Arezzo, which had fallen -into the hands of Cæsar’s troops, she sent him Machiavelli, the most -clear-sighted of her secretaries. The spectacle of these two champions -face to face is one unique in history. From the day when he arrived in -the camp, Machiavelli, who had recognized in the Duke of Valentinois a -terrible adversary, felt that it was of vital interest to the state that -he should not lose sight of him for a moment. As a point of fact, he -never left his side up to the day when he saw him hunted down like a -wild beast, vanquished by destiny, fettered beyond all power of doing -harm to any one. - -Of course, we may refuse to accept the verdict of the secretary of the -Florentine Republic. Gregorovius, the celebrated author of the “History -of the City of Rome in the Middle Ages,” goes so far as to say that it -is a reproach to the memory of the founder of political science that he -made a blood-stained adventurer like Cæsar the “Italian Messiah”--the -precursor, in a word, of Italian unity. Again, P. Villari, in his fine -work “N. Machiavelli e suoi tempi,” says that the Florentine secretary, -though he was an eyewitness of the actual deeds of Valentinois, made of -him an imaginary personage, to whom he attributed the great ideas by -which he himself was animated. - -Still, we have a right to point out that in history purpose is -controlled by action. A great number of the heroic deeds and of the -portentous decisions which have determined the lofty destiny of empires -have not been the consequence of long premeditation; they have often -been the result of the passions and desires of mankind, or simply that -of the need of action natural to a vigorous mind. Undoubtedly the -immediate object of Alexander VI was the aggrandizement of his children, -and the increase of their territory; he cared only for the power of the -Church insomuch as it augmented that of his own family, but the deeds -accomplished by father and son contributed none the less to -reconstitute the temporal dominion of the Church--a work which, after -its completion by Julius II, was destined to continue for more than -three centuries, from 1510 to 1860. - -The ambitious Cæsar himself was turning aside the current for his own -particular advantage. When Julius II assumed the triple crown, the -officers who held the fortresses of Romagna with one accord refused to -give them up to the Church, considering them as the lawful conquest and -personal property of their leader. Machiavelli looked only at the -results; this is the justification of the opinion which he expresses -concerning Valentinois in his book, “Il Principe,” in the “Legazione,” -the “Descrizione dei fatti di Romagna,” and the “Decennale.” He was -present when these things were done; he calculated the effect of the -events he witnessed. From his observation of Cæsar at work, he noted the -strength of his will and the resources of his mind, his strategic -talents, and his administrative faculty; and as within certain limits -the acts of Valentinois tended toward a distinct goal, an ideal not -unlike that at which he himself aimed, the Florentine secretary was not -the man to be squeamish about ways and means. What did it matter to him -whose hand struck at the despots of the petty principalities of Italy? -What cared he about the personal ambition of the man who, after -overthrowing them, busied himself at once with the organization of their -states, gave them laws, kept them under stern discipline, and ended by -winning the affections of the people? - -Once the idea of union was accepted, a prince of more blameless private -life would succeed Cæsar, and there was always so much progress made -toward the realization of the great conception. The Sforza had fallen; -the princes of the houses of Este and Mantua were not equal to such a -task; Lorenzo de’ Medici was no soldier. Impatient to reach his end, -Machiavelli cast his eyes around in vain; nowhere could he find a -personality capable of great undertakings. Cæsar alone, with his youth -and daring, quick to seize an opportunity, free from scruples, imposing -by his magnificence--Cæsar, who always went straight to the very core of -a matter, a consummate soldier, full of high purposes and lofty -schemes--seemed the one man capable of aiming at the goal and attaining -it. From that time forward, the secretary made him the incarnation of -his ideal prince, removing from his character the hideous elements which -lurked beneath the fair exterior of the skillful diplomate and hardy -soldier. - -Of these “high purposes” of which Machiavelli speaks we have also other -proofs, without speaking of the, in a manner, prophetic declaration of -the young cardinal who, at twenty, fixed his eyes on the example of the -Roman Cæsar, and took as his motto “CUM NUMINE CÆSARIS OMEN.” Some of -the contemporaries of the Duke of Valentinois have expressed themselves -in distinct terms regarding him. We have here some real revelations of -his personal intentions which are free from the _après coup_ of the -judgments pronounced by later historians. Speaking of the war which the -Spaniards were carrying on to prevent the Pope from extending his -dominions beyond the Neapolitan frontier, Signor Villari recognizes the -fact that Alexander VI had declared his intention of making Italy “all -one piece.” As for Cæsar, we read in the dispatches of Collenuccio, the -ambassador of Ferrara, that Francesco Maria, Duke of Urbino, had taken -into his service a secretary who had been for some time in Cæsar’s -employ, and that this person averred that he had heard the Duke of -Romagna say that he had “deliberately resolved to make himself _King of -Italy_.” Here we have it in so many words. - -As regards Machiavelli, could we collect in one page all the traits of -character sketched from nature, scattered here and there in his -dispatches to the Florentine Signoria, we should have a literary -portrait of Valentinois, signed with the name of the most sagacious -observer that ever honored Italian diplomacy. Cæsar had never learned -the art of war, yet it would be impossible to pass with greater facility -from the Consistory to the camp than he did. He was no mere warrior. -Brave and impetuous as he was, he had more serious work in hand than the -exchanging of sword-thrusts. He was at once a general, a strategist, and -an administrator. Hardly had he taken a town when he made laws for it, -and organized its administration; the breaches in its fortifications -were repaired, and its defense and retention made as safe as if the -conquest were final. No sooner had Imola, Forli, and Cesena fallen into -his power, than he sent for Leonardo da Vinci to provide for a -sufficient supply of water, to repair the fortresses, and to erect -public monuments. He founded _Monts de Piété_, set up courts of justice, -and did the work of civilization everywhere. The cities which fell under -his sway never misunderstood his efforts; they looked back on the time -of his supremacy with regret. - - “This lord is ever noble and magnificent; when his sword is in his - hand, his courage is so great that the most arduous undertakings - seem easy to him; in the pursuit of glory or advantage he shrinks - from no toil or fatigue. He has the good-will of his soldiers; he - has secured the best troops in Italy: it is thus that he makes - himself formidable and victorious. Add to this, that fortune is - constantly favorable to him. He is of solitary habits, and he - possesses craft, promptness, the spirit of order and good fortune; - he has an extraordinary power of profiting by opportunity very - secret (_molto segreto_). He controls himself with prudence; (_gran - conoscitore della occasione_.”) - -So Machiavelli warned the Florentines not to treat Cæsar “like the other -barons, but as a new power in Italy, with whom they might conclude -treaties and alliances, rather than offer him an appointment as -_condottiere_.” The purely military element, which was Machiavelli’s -speciality, did not escape the attention of the secretary. Once he had -found the right man, the next requisite was the proper tool to work -with--that is, the army; and so, when he saw these well-disciplined -battalions, and the perfect order that reigned among them, the system of -supplies secured by treaties, the regular equipment, and, above all, the -formidable artillery, “in which department Cæsar alone is as strong as -all the sovereigns of Italy put together,” the Secretary of the Republic -recognized in Cæsar a born commander, for whom he prophesied the most -lofty career. - -Cæsar’s life was very short, and the vicissitudes of his fortune -followed each other in rapid succession. In youth he was a murderer, in -youth a conqueror, and in youth he died. His period of activity as a -general extended from the autumn of 1499 to April, 1503, and his actual -reign as Duke of Romagna lasted only two years. - -On the 26th of January, 1500, having accomplished the first half of his -task, he entered Rome as a conqueror--on which occasion a representation -was given of the triumph of Cæsar with the various episodes of the life -of the Roman Cæsar shown in _tableaux vivants_, suggested by the painter -Mantegna. Eleven allegorical cars started from the Piazza Navona, Borgia -himself, crowned with laurel, representing in his own person the -conqueror of the world. Before his departure for his second campaign, he -had, as we have already seen, caused the assassination of Lucrezia’s -second husband, Alfonso de Bisceglie, to prepare for the third marriage -of his sister, who was this time to become Duchess of Ferrara, and thus -secure him an alliance which would forward his projects as Duke of -Romagna. On the 27th of September, 1500, he left Rome again to complete -his work, but returned quickly to take part in the war which the King of -France had carried into the Neapolitan kingdom, when he possessed -himself of the city of Capua, thus acquitting his obligation toward his -protector, Louis XII. On the 29th of November his father changed his -title of Vicar of the Holy See to that of Duke of Romagna. - -The year 1503 proved an eventful one for him. No longer contented with -his duchy, he prepared to attack Bologna and to threaten Florence. The -day before he set forth on this great undertaking, on the 5th of August, -he assisted, together with Alexander VI, at a banquet given in the -vineyard of the Cardinal of Corneto, at the gates of Rome. On their -return both were taken ill so suddenly that the cardinal was suspected -of having poisoned them. The old man breathed his last on the 18th of -August. Cæsar, younger and more vigorous, struggled against his malady -with extraordinary energy. He wrapped himself, as in a cloak, in the -still quivering carcass of a newly disemboweled mule to overcome the -shiverings brought on by fever, and then was thrown, still covered with -blood, into a vessel of iced water, to bring about the reaction -necessary to save his life. This man of iron seemed to prevail against -Nature herself. He knew that, once his father dead and himself unable to -move, all his enemies would rush upon him at once to crush him. It was -the decisive moment of his life. He first sent his bravo, Micheletto, to -seize the pontifical treasure, thus making sure of a sum of three -hundred thousand ducats, the sinews of resistance. The nine thousand -men-at-arms under his orders, the one disciplined force in the city, -made him master of Rome; the Sacred College set all their hopes upon -this dying man, for he alone possessed sufficient authority to prevent -anarchy. - -It is a strange spectacle--the representatives of all nations accredited -to the Holy See assembling at his bedside to negotiate with him, and -Cæsar, weak and helpless as he is, making himself responsible for the -preservation of order, while the Sacred College formed itself into -conclave to elect the new Pope. In order not to put any pressure upon -the cardinals by his presence, the Duke of Valentinois retired to Nepi. -He left Rome, carried on the shoulders of his guards, livid and -shivering with fever. Around his litter walked the ambassadors of Spain, -France, and the empire, and mingled with the troops could be seen his -mother Vanozza, his brother Squillace, and his sister-in-law -Sancha--all three in danger of their lives in excited Rome. One of the -Borgias had been killed, and Fabio Orsini, descendant of one of the -Roman barons ruined by Alexander VI, had steeped his hands in the -detested blood, and sworn to visit all who bore that hated name with the -same fate. - - - - -CARDINAL WOLSEY. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [Thomas Wolsey, born of low origin 1471, died 1530. After a - university education and taking priest’s orders he was rapidly made - private chaplain to Henry VII, and, on the accession of Henry VIII, - he became the favorite of the new king, and soon afterward lord - chancellor and cardinal. Wolsey’s diplomatic and ministerial genius - became one of the great powers in Europe while he managed English - affairs, a period of about eleven years, and at home his - magnificence rivaled that of the king himself. His fall from power - grew out of his opposition to the king’s marriage with Anne - Boleyn.] - - -Thomas Wolsey was the son of a wealthy townsman of Ipswich, whose -ability had raised him into notice at the close of the preceding reign, -and who had been taken by Bishop Fox into the service of the crown. His -extraordinary powers hardly, perhaps, required the songs, dances, and -carouses with his indulgence in which he was taunted by his enemies, to -aid him in winning the favor of the young sovereign. From the post of -favorite he soon rose to that of minister. Henry’s resentment at -Ferdinand’s perfidy enabled Wolsey to carry out a policy which reversed -that of his predecessors. The war had freed England from the fear of -French pressure. Wolsey was as resolute to free her from the dictation -of Ferdinand, and saw in a French alliance the best security for English -independence. In 1514 a treaty was concluded with Louis. The same -friendship was continued to his successor, Francis I, whose march across -the Alps for the reconquest of Lombardy was facilitated by Henry and -Wolsey, in the hope that while the war lasted England would be free from -all fear of attack, and that Francis himself might be brought to -inevitable ruin. These hopes were defeated by his great victory at -Marignano. But Francis, in the moment of triumph, saw himself confronted -by a new rival. Master of Castile and Aragon, of Naples and the -Netherlands, the new Spanish king, Charles V, rose into a check on the -French monarchy such as the policy of Henry or Wolsey had never been -able to construct before. - -The alliance of England was eagerly sought by both sides, and the -administration of Wolsey, amid all its ceaseless diplomacy, for seven -years kept England out of war. The peace, as we have seen, restored the -hopes of the New Learning; it enabled Colet to reform education, Erasmus -to undertake the regeneration of the Church, More to set on foot a new -science of politics. But peace, as Wolsey used it, was fatal to English -freedom. In the political hints which lie scattered over the “Utopia,” -More notes with bitter irony the advance of the new despotism. It was -only in “Nowhere” that a sovereign was “removable on suspicion of a -design to enslave his people.” In England the work of slavery was being -quietly wrought, hints the great lawyer, through the law. “There will -never be wanting some pretense for deciding in the king’s favor; as that -equity is on his side, or the strict letter of the law, or some forced -interpretation of it; or if none of these, that the royal prerogative -ought, with conscientious judges, to outweigh all other considerations.” - -We are startled at the precision with which More maps out the expedients -by which the law courts were to lend themselves to the advance of -tyranny till their crowning judgment in the case of ship-money. But -behind these judicial expedients lay great principles of absolutism, -which, partly from the example of foreign monarchies, partly from the -sense of social and political insecurity, and yet more from the -isolated position of the crown, were gradually winning their way in -public opinion. “These notions,” he goes boldly on, “are fostered by the -maxim that the king can do no wrong, however much he may wish to do it; -that not only the property but the persons of his subjects are his own; -and that a man has a right to no more than the king’s goodness thinks -fit not to take from him.” In the hands of Wolsey these maxims were -transformed into principles of state. The checks which had been imposed -on the action of the sovereign by the presence of great prelates and -nobles at his council were practically removed. All authority was -concentrated in the hands of a single minister. Henry had munificently -rewarded Wolsey’s services to the crown. He had been promoted to the See -of Lincoln and thence to the Archbishopric of York. Henry procured his -elevation to the rank of cardinal, and raised him to the post of -chancellor. The revenues of two sees whose tenants were foreigners fell -into his hands; he held the bishopric of Winchester and the abbacy of -St. Albans; he was in receipt of pensions from France and Spain, while -his official emoluments were enormous. His pomp was almost royal. - -A train of prelates and nobles followed him wherever he moved; his -household was composed of five hundred persons of noble birth, and its -chief posts were held by knights and barons of the realm. He spent his -vast wealth with princely ostentation. Two of his houses--Hampton Court -and York House, the later Whitehall--were splendid enough to serve at -his fall as royal palaces. His school at Ipswich was eclipsed by the -glories of his foundation at Oxford, whose name of Cardinal College has -been lost in its later title of Christ-church. Nor was this magnificence -a mere show of power. The whole direction of home and foreign affairs -rested with Wolsey alone; as chancellor he stood at the head of public -justice; his elevation to the office of legate rendered him supreme in -the Church. Enormous as was the mass of work which he undertook, it was -thoroughly done; his administration of the royal treasury was -economical; the number of his dispatches is hardly less remarkable than -the care bestowed upon each; even More, an avowed enemy, confesses that -as chancellor he surpassed all men’s expectations. The court of -chancery, indeed, became so crowded through the character of expedition -and justice which it gained under his rule that subordinate courts had -to be created for its relief. It was this concentration of all secular -and ecclesiastical power in a single hand which accustomed England to -the personal government which began with Henry VIII; and it was, above -all, Wolsey’s long tenure of the whole Papal authority within the realm, -and the consequent suspension of appeals to Rome, that led men to -acquiesce at a later time in Henry’s claim of religious supremacy; for, -proud as was Wolsey’s bearing and high as were his natural powers, he -stood before England as the mere creature of the king. Greatness, -wealth, authority he held, and owned he held, simply at the royal will. -In raising his low-born favorite to the head of Church and state, Henry -was gathering all religious as well as all civil authority into his -personal grasp. The nation which trembled before Wolsey learned to -tremble before the king who could destroy Wolsey by a breath. - - - - -FRANCISCO PIZARRO. - -BY WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT. - - [One of the Spanish conquerors of America, born about 1471, died - 1541. The illegitimate son of a Spanish general, his childhood was - spent in a peasant’s hut. Going as an adventurer to the New World, - he took part in several important expeditions, among them Balboa’s - settlement of Darien. In 1524, Pizarro, with a brother adventurer, - Almagro, in an attempt on New Grenada, got intelligence of the - great Peruvian empire of the Incas. It was not till 1531 that - Pizarro, having secured full commission and extraordinary - concessions from Charles V., was able to raise a force of two - hundred and fifty men to attempt the conquest, which was - brilliantly successful. He reigned as viceroy, and was finally - assassinated by a son of his old comrade Almagro, whom he had put - to death.] - - -Pizarro was tall in stature, well-proportioned, and with a countenance -not unpleasing. Bred in camps, with nothing of the polish of a court, he -had a soldier-like bearing, and the air of one accustomed to command. -But, though not polished, there was no embarrassment or rusticity in his -address, which, where it served his purpose, could be plausible and even -insinuating. The proof of it is the favorable impression made by him, on -presenting himself, after his second expedition--stranger as he was to -all its forms and usages--at the punctilious court of Castile. - -Unlike many of his countrymen, he had no passion for ostentatious dress, -which he regarded as an incumbrance. The costume which he most affected -on public occasions was a black cloak, with a white hat, and shoes of -the same color; the last, it is said, being in imitation of the Great -Captain, whose character he had early learned to admire in Italy, but to -which his own, certainly, bore very faint resemblance. - -He was temperate in eating, drank sparingly, and usually rose an hour -before dawn. He was punctual in attendance to business, and shrank from -no toil. He had, indeed, great powers of patient endurance. Like most of -his nation, he was fond of play, and cared little for the quality of -those with whom he played; though, when his antagonist could not afford -to lose, he would allow himself, it is said, to be the loser--a mode of -conferring an obligation much commended by a Castilian writer for its -delicacy. - -Though avaricious, it was in order to spend, and not to hoard. His ample -treasure, more ample than those, probably, that ever before fell to the -lot of an adventurer, were mostly dissipated in his enterprises, his -architectural works, and schemes of public improvement, which, in a -country where gold and silver might be said to have lost their value -from their abundance, absorbed an incredible amount of money. While he -regarded the whole country, in a manner, as his own, and distributed it -freely among his captains, it is certain that the princely grant of -territory, with twenty thousand vassals, made to him by the Crown, was -never carried into effect; nor did his heirs ever reap the benefit of -it. - -Though bold in action and not easily turned from his purpose, Pizarro -was slow in arriving at a decision. This gave him an appearance of -irresolution foreign to his character. Perhaps the consciousness of this -led him to adopt the custom of saying “No,” at first, to applicants for -favor; and afterward, at leisure, to revise his judgment, and grant what -seemed to him expedient. He took the opposite course from his comrade -Almagro, who, it was observed, generally said “Yes,” but too often -failed to keep his promise. This was characteristic of the careless and -easy nature of the latter, governed by impulse rather than principle. - -It is hardly necessary to speak of the courage of a man pledged to such -a career as that of Pizarro. Courage, indeed, was a cheap quality among -the Spanish adventurers, for danger was their element. But he possessed -something higher than mere animal courage, in that constancy of purpose -which was rooted too deeply in his nature to be shaken by the wildest -storms of fortune. It was this inflexible constancy which formed the key -to his character, and constituted the secret of his success. A -remarkable evidence of it was given in his first expedition, among the -mangroves and dreary marshes of Choco. He saw his followers pining -around him under the blighting malaria, wasting before an invisible -enemy, and unable to strike a stroke in their own defense. Yet his -spirit did not yield, nor did he falter in his enterprise. - -There is something oppressive to the imagination in this war against -nature. In the struggle of man against man, the spirits are raised by a -contest conducted on equal terms; but in a war with the elements we feel -that, however bravely we may contend, we can have no power to control. -Nor are we cheered on by the prospect of glory in such a contest; for, -in the capricious estimate of human glory, the silent endurance of -privations, however painful, is little, in comparison with the -ostentatious trophies of victory. The laurel of the hero--alas for -humanity that it should be so!--grows best on the battle-field. - -This inflexible spirit of Pizarro was shown still more strongly when, in -the little island of Gallo, he drew the line on the sand which was to -separate him and his handful of followers from their country and from -civilized man. He trusted that his own constancy would give strength to -the feeble, and rally brave hearts around him for the prosecution of his -enterprise. He looked with confidence to the future, and he did not -miscalculate. This was heroic, and wanted only a nobler motive for its -object to constitute the true moral sublime. - -Yet the same feature in his character was displayed in a manner scarcely -less remarkable when, landing on the coast, and ascertaining the real -strength and civilization of the Incas, he persisted in marching into -the interior at the head of a force of less than two hundred men. In -this he undoubtedly proposed to himself the example of Cortés, so -contagious to the adventurous spirits of that day, and especially to -Pizarro, engaged as he was in a similar enterprise. Yet the hazard -assumed by Pizarro was far greater than that of the conqueror of Mexico, -whose force was nearly three times as large, while the terrors of the -Inca name--however justified by the result--were as widely spread as -those of the Aztecs. - -It was, doubtless, in imitation of the same captivating model that -Pizarro planned the seizure of Atahualpa. But the situations of the two -Spanish captains were as dissimilar as the manner in which their acts -of violence were conducted. The wanton massacre of the Peruvians -resembled that perpetrated by Alvarado in Mexico, and might have been -attended with consequences as disastrous if the Peruvian character had -been as fierce as that of the Aztecs. But the blow which roused the -latter to madness broke the tamer spirits of the Peruvians. It was a -bold stroke, which left so much to chance that it scarcely merited the -name of policy. - -When Pizarro landed in the country, he found it distracted by a contest -for the crown. It would seem to have been for his interest to play off -one party against the other, throwing his own weight into the scale that -suited him. Instead of this, he resorted to an act of audacious violence -which crushed them both at a blow. His subsequent career afforded no -scope for the profound policy displayed by Cortés, when he gathered -conflicting nations under his banner and directed them against a common -foe. Still less did he have the opportunity of displaying the tactics -and admirable strategy of his rival. Cortés conducted his military -operations on the scientific principles of a great captain at the head -of a powerful host. Pizarro appears only as an adventurer, a fortunate -knight-errant. By one bold stroke he broke the spell which had so long -held the land under the dominion of the Incas. The spell was broken, and -the airy fabric of their empire, built on the superstition of ages, -vanished at a touch. This was good fortune, rather than the result of -policy. - -But, as no picture is without its lights, we must not, in justice to -Pizarro, dwell exclusively on the darker features of his portrait. There -was no one of her sons to whom Spain was under larger obligations for -extent of empire, for his hand won for her the richest of the Indian -jewels that once sparkled in her imperial diadem. When we contemplate -the perils he braved, the sufferings he patiently endured, the -incredible obstacles he overcame, the magnificent results he effected -with his single arm, as it were, unaided by the government--though -neither a good nor a great man, in the highest sense of that term--it is -impossible not to regard him as a very extraordinary one. - - - - -HERNANDO CORTÉS. - -BY WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT. - - [The Spanish conqueror of Mexico, born 1485, died 1547. Born of a - noble race, he was educated at the University of Salamanca, but - soon devoted his attention to arms. He turned his eyes to America - in 1504, and sailing thither, held various minor offices of trust, - civic and military, till the discovery of Mexico. Cortés was - appointed by Velasquez, the governor-general, to the command of the - new expedition designed for Mexico in 1518. Though afterward - superseded by his jealous superior, he succeeded in evading the - enforcement of the decree, and landed at Tabasco, Mexico, on March - 4, 1519. He burned his ships and committed himself to success or - death. His army contained only five hundred and fifty Spaniards, - but with these, and the native allies whom he seduced by his arts, - he conquered the Mexican Empire in little more than two years. - Though he was rewarded with titles and wealth, he was ungratefully - treated by the king--a common fate of the great servants of - Spain--and died in retirement, out of court favor.] - - -Cortés, at the time of the Mexican Conquest, was thirty-three or -thirty-four years of age. In stature he was rather above the middle -size. His countenance was pale, and his large dark eyes gave an -expression of gravity to his countenance not to have been expected in -one of his cheerful temperament. His figure was slender, at least till -later life; but his chest was deep, his shoulders broad, his frame -muscular and well proportioned. It presented the union of agility and -vigor which qualified him to excel in fencing, horsemanship, and the -other general exercises of chivalry. In his diet he was temperate, -careless of what he ate, and drinking little; while to toil and -privation he seemed perfectly indifferent. His dress--for he did not -disdain the impression produced by such adventitious aids--was such as -to set off his handsome figure to advantage, neither gaudy, nor -striking, nor rich. He wore few ornaments, and usually the same, but -those were of a great price. His manners, frank and soldier-like, -concealed a most cool and calculating spirit. With his gayest humor -there mingled a settled air of resolution which made those who -approached him feel that they must obey; and which infused something -like awe into the attachment of his most devoted followers. Such a -combination, in which love was tempered by authority, was the one -probably best calculated to inspire devotion in the rough and turbulent -spirits among whom his lot was to be cast. - -The history of the Conquest is necessarily that of Cortés, who is, if I -may so say, not merely the soul but the body of the enterprise; present -everywhere in person, out in the thick of the fight, or in the building -of the works, with his sword or with his musket, sometimes leading his -soldiers, and sometimes directing his little navy. The negotiations, -intrigues, correspondence, are all conducted by him; and, like Cæsar, he -wrote his own Commentaries in the heat of the stirring scenes which form -the subject of them. His character is marked with the most opposite -traits, embracing qualities apparently the most incompatible. He was -avaricious, yet liberal; bold to desperation, yet cautious and -calculating in his plans; magnanimous, yet very cunning; courteous and -affable in his deportment, yet inexorably stern; lax in his notions of -morality, yet (not uncommon) a sad bigot. - -The great feature in his character was constancy of purpose; a constancy -not to be daunted by danger, nor baffled by disappointment, nor wearied -out by impediments and delays. - -He was a knight-errant in the literal sense of the word. Of all the band -of adventurous cavaliers whom Spain, in the sixteenth century, sent -forth on the career of discovery and conquest, there was none more -deeply filled with the spirit of romantic enterprise than Hernando -Cortés. Dangers and difficulties, instead of deterring, seemed to have a -charm in his eyes. They were necessary to rouse him to a full -consciousness of his powers. He grappled with them at the outset, and, -if I may so express myself, seemed to prefer to take his enterprises by -the most difficult side. He conceived, at the first moment of his -landing in Mexico, the design of its conquest. When he saw the strength -of its civilization, he was not turned from his purpose. When he was -assailed by the superior force of Narvaez, he still persisted in it; and -when he was driven in ruin from the capital, he still cherished his -original idea. How successfully he carried it into execution, we have -seen. After the few years of repose which succeeded the Conquest, his -adventurous spirit impelled him to that dreary march across the marshes -of Chiapa; and, after another interval, to seek his fortunes on the -stormy Californian gulf. When he found that no other continent remained -for him to conquer, he made serious proposals to the emperor to equip a -fleet at his own expense, with which he would sail to the Moluccas, and -subdue the Spice Islands for the crown of Castile! - -This spirit of knight-errantry might lead us to under-value his talents -as a general, and to regard him merely in the light of a lucky -adventurer. But this would be doing him injustice; for Cortés was -certainly a great general, if that man be one who performs great -achievements with the resources which his own genius has created. There -is probably no instance in history where so vast an enterprise has been -achieved by means apparently so inadequate. He may be truly said to have -effected the conquest by his own resources. If he was indebted for his -success to the co-operation of the Indian tribes, it was the force of -his genius that obtained command of such materials. He arrested the arm -that was lifted to smite him, and made it do battle in his behalf. He -beat the Tlascalans, and made them his stanch allies. He beat the -soldiers of Narvaez, and doubled his effective force by it. When his -own men deserted him he did not desert himself. He drew them back by -degrees, and compelled them to act by his will till they were all as one -man. He brought together the most miscellaneous collection of -mercenaries who ever fought under one standard--adventurers from Cuba -and the isles, craving for gold; hidalgos, who came from the old country -to win laurels; broken-down cavaliers, who hoped to mend their fortunes -in the New World; vagabonds flying from justice; the grasping followers -of Narvaez, and his own reckless veterans--men with hardly a common tie, -and burning with the spirit of jealousy and faction; wild tribes of the -natives from all parts of the country, who had been sworn enemies from -their cradles, and who had met only to cut one another’s throats and to -procure victims for sacrifice; men, in short, differing in race, in -language, and in interests, with scarcely anything in common among them. -Yet this motley congregation was assembled in one camp, compelled to -bend to the will of one man, to consort together in harmony, to breathe, -as it were, one spirit, and to move on a common principle of action! It -is in this wonderful power over the discordant masses thus gathered -under his banner that we recognize the genius of the great commander no -less than in the skill of his military operations. - -His power over the minds of his soldiers was a natural result of their -confidence in his abilities. But it is also to be attributed to his -popular manners--that happy union of authority and companionship which -fitted him for the command of a band of roving adventurers. It would not -have done for him to have fenced himself round with the stately reserve -of a commander of regular forces. He was embarked with his men in a -common adventure, and nearly on terms of equality, since he held his -commission by no legal warrant. But while he indulged this freedom and -familiarity with his soldiers, he never allowed it to interfere with -their strict obedience, nor to impair the severity of discipline. When -he had risen to higher consideration, although he affected more state, -he still admitted his veterans to the same intimacy. “He preferred,” -says Diaz, “to be called ‘Cortés’ by us, to being called by any title; -and with good reason,” continues the enthusiastic old cavalier, “for the -name of Cortés is as famous in our day as was that of Cæsar among the -Romans, or of Hannibal among the Carthaginians.” He showed the same kind -regard toward his ancient comrades in the very last act of his life; for -he appropriated a sum by his will for the celebration of two thousand -masses for the souls of those who had fought with him in the campaigns -of Mexico. - -His character has been unconsciously traced by the hand of a master-- - - “And oft the chieftain deigned to aid - And mingle in the mirth they made; - For though, with men of high degree, - The proudest of the proud was he, - Yet, trained in camps, he knew the art - To win the soldier’s hardy heart. - They love a captain to obey, - Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May; - With open hand, and brow as free, - Lover of wine and minstrelsy; - Ever the first to scale a tower, - As venturous in a lady’s bower; - Such buxom chief shall lead his host - From India’s fires to Zembla’s frost.” - -Cortés, without much violence, might have sat for this portrait of -Marmion. - -Cortés was not a vulgar conqueror. He did not conquer from the mere -ambition of conquest. If he destroyed the ancient capital of the Aztecs, -it was to build up a more magnificent capital on its ruins. If he -desolated the land and broke up its existing institutions, he employed -the short period of his administration in digesting schemes for -introducing there a more improved culture and a higher civilization. In -all his expeditions he was careful to study the resources of the -country, its social organization, and its physical capacities. He -enjoined it on his captains to attend particularly to these objects. If -he was greedy of gold, like most of the Spanish cavaliers in the New -World, it was not to hoard it, nor merely to lavish it in the support of -a princely establishment, but to secure funds for prosecuting his -glorious discoveries. Witness his costly expeditions to the Gulf of -California. - -His enterprises were not undertaken solely for mercenary objects, as is -shown by the various expeditions he set on foot for the discovery of a -communication between the Atlantic and the Pacific. In his schemes of -ambition he showed a respect for the interests of science, to be -referred partly to the natural superiority of his mind, but partly, no -doubt, to the influence of early education. It is, indeed, hardly -possible that a person of his wayward and mercurial temper should have -improved his advantages at the university, but he brought away from it a -tincture of scholarship seldom found among the cavaliers of the period, -and which had its influence in enlarging his own conceptions. His -celebrated letters are written with a simple elegance that, as I have -already had occasion to remark, have caused them to be compared to the -military narrative of Cæsar. It will not be easy to find in the -chronicles of the period a more concise yet comprehensive statement, not -only of the events of his campaigns, but of the circumstances most -worthy of notice in the character of the conquered countries. - -Cortés was not cruel; at least, not cruel as compared with most of those -who followed his iron trade. The path of the conqueror is necessarily -marked with blood. He was not too scrupulous, indeed, in the execution -of his plans. He swept away the obstacles which lay in his track; and -his fame is darkened by the commission of more than one act which his -boldest apologist will find it hard to vindicate. But he was not cruel. -He allowed no outrage on his unresisting foes. This may seem small -praise, but it is an exception to the usual conduct of his countrymen in -their conquests, and it is something to be in advance of one’s time. He -was severe, it may be added, in enforcing obedience to his orders for -protecting their persons and their property. With his licentious crew, -it was sometimes not without hazard that he was so. After the Conquest, -he sanctioned the system of _repartimientos_; but so did Columbus. He -endeavored to regulate it by the most humane laws, and continued to -suggest many important changes for ameliorating the condition of the -natives. The best commentary on his conduct, in this respect, is the -deference that was shown him by the Indians, and the confidence with -which they appealed to him for protection in all their subsequent -distresses. - - - - -MARTIN LUTHER. - -BY THOMAS CARLYLE. - - [Leader of the German Reformation, born 1483, died 1546. Educated - at the University of Erfurt, and originally intending to become a - lawyer, he was carried by religious enthusiasm into an Augustinian - convent. After taking orders he became in a few years Professor of - Philosophy in the Wittenberg University, and Doctor of Theology. It - was not till the promulgation of indulgences for sin, issued by - Pope Leo V to raise funds for the building of the Cathedral of St. - Peter’s at Rome, that Luther took a stand antagonistic to the Roman - Church. He posted ninety-five Latin theses on the door of the - Wittenberg church as a protest, which contained the germ of the - Protestant doctrine. This bold act kindled a fire throughout - Europe. Luther’s celebrated disputation with Doctor Eck, and his - fierce pamphlets against Rome, which were scattered broadcast by - the press, added fuel to the flames, and he was soon supported by - the sympathy and adherence of many of the nobles, particularly - George of Saxony, the reformer’s own electoral prince, as well as - by the support of large masses of the people. Luther was - excommunicated in 1520, and in the same year was summoned to answer - before Charles V, the German emperor, - -[Illustration: MARTIN LUTHER.] - - at the Diet of Worms. The reformer defended himself with great - eloquence and vigor, but was placed under the ban of the Empire, - and thenceforward became both a religious and political outlaw. The - Lutheran reformation rapidly spread to France, Switzerland, the - Scandinavian kingdoms, England, and Scotland, during the life of - its apostle, and shook the power of the Roman hierarchy to its very - center. Luther was protected in his work by a powerful band of - German princes, and when he died the larger part of North Germany - had accepted his doctrine. He was perhaps the most extraordinary - figure of an age prolific in great men.] - - -The Diet of Worms and Luther’s appearance there on the 17th of April, -1521, may be considered as the greatest scene in modern European -history; the point, indeed, from which the whole subsequent history of -civilization takes its rise. After multiplied negotiations and -disputations, it had come to this. The young Emperor Charles V, with all -the princes of Germany, papal nuncios, dignitaries, spiritual and -temporal, are assembled there: Luther is to appear and answer for -himself, whether he will recant or not. The world’s pomp and power sits -there on this hand; on that, stands up for God’s truth one man, the poor -miner, Hans Luther’s son. Friends had reminded him of Huss, advised him -not to go; he would not be advised. A large company of friends rode out -to meet him, with still more earnest warnings; he answered, “Were there -as many devils in Worms as there are roof-tiles, I would on.” The -people, on the morrow, as he went to the hall of the diet, crowded the -windows and house-tops, some of them calling out to him, in solemn -words, not to recant. “Whosoever denieth me before men!” they cried to -him, as in a kind of solemn petition and adjuration. Was it not in -reality a petition too--the petition of the whole world lying in dark -bondage of soul, paralyzed under a black spectral nightmare and -triple-hatted chimera, calling itself Father in God, and what not--“Free -us; it rests with thee; desert us not!” - -Luther did not desert us. His speech of two hours distinguished itself -by its respectful, wise, and honest tone; submissive to whatsoever -could lawfully claim submission, not submissive to any more than that. -His writings, he said, were partly his own, partly derived from the Word -of God. As to what was his own, human infirmity entered into it; -unguarded anger, blindness, many things, doubtless, which it were a -blessing for him could he abolish altogether. But as to what stood on -sound truth and the Word of God, he could not recant it. How could he? -“Confute me,” he concluded, “by proofs of Scripture, or else by plain, -just arguments. I can not recant otherwise; for it is neither safe nor -prudent to do aught against conscience. Here stand I; I can do no other. -God assist me!” It is, as we say, the greatest moment in the modern -history of men. English Puritanism, England and its Parliaments, -Americas, and the vast work done in these two centuries; French -Revolution, Europe and its work everywhere at present--the germ of it -all lay there. Had Luther in that moment done other, it had all been -otherwise! The European world was asking him: Am I to sink ever lower -into falsehood, stagnant putrescence, loathsome, accursed death; or, -with what paroxysm, to cast the falsehoods out of me, and be cured and -live? - -Great wars, contentions, and disunion followed out of this Reformation, -which last down to our day, and are yet far from ended. Great talk and -crimination has been made about these. They are lamentable, undeniable; -but, after all, what has Luther or his cause to do with them? It seems -strange reasoning to charge the Reformation with all this. When Hercules -turned the purifying river into King Augeas’s stables, I have no doubt -the confusion that resulted was considerable all around, but I think it -was not Hercules’s blame; it was some other’s blame! The Reformation -might bring what results it liked when it came, but the Reformation -simply could not help coming. - -Of Luther I will add now, in reference to all these wars and bloodshed, -the noticeable fact that none of them began so long as he continued -living. The controversy did not get to fighting so long as he was there. -To me it is a proof of his greatness in all senses, this fact. How -seldom do we find a man that has stirred up some vast commotion, who -does not himself perish, swept away in it! Such is the usual course of -revolutionists. Luther continued, in a good degree, sovereign of this -greatest revolution; all Protestants, of what rank or function soever, -looking much to him for guidance; and he held it peaceably, continued -firm at the center of it. A man to do this must have a kingly faculty; -he must have the gift to discern at all turns where the true heart of -the matter lies, and to plant himself courageously on that, as a strong, -true man, that other true men may rally round him there. He will not -continue leader of men otherwise. Luther’s clear, deep force of -judgment, his force of all sorts--of _silence_, of tolerance and -moderation among others--are very notable in these circumstances. - -Tolerance, I say; a very genuine kind of tolerance: he distinguishes -what is essential, and what is not; the unessential may go very much as -it will. A complaint comes to him that such and such a reformed preacher -“will not preach without a cassock.” “Well,” answers Luther, “what harm -will a cassock do the man? Let him have a cassock to preach in; let him -have three cassocks, if he find benefit in them!” His conduct in the -matter of Carlstadt’s wild image-breaking; of the Anabaptists; of the -Peasants’ war, shows a noble strength, very different from spasmodic -violence. With sure, prompt insight, he discriminates what is what; a -strong, just man, he speaks forth what is the wise course, and all men -follow him in that. Luther’s written works give similar testimony of -him. The dialect of these speculations is now grown obsolete for us, but -one still reads them with a singular attraction. And, indeed, the mere -grammatical diction is still legible enough. Luther’s merit in literary -history is of the greatest; his dialect became the language of all -writing. They are not well written, these four-and-twenty quartos of -his; written hastily, with quite other than literary objects. But in no -books have I found a more robust, genuine, I will say noble, faculty of -a man than in these. A rugged honesty, homeliness, simplicity; a rugged, -sterling sense and strength. He flashes out illumination from him; his -smiting idiomatic phrases seem to cleave into the very secret of the -matter. Good humor too, nay, tender affection, nobleness, and depth. -This man could have been a poet too! He had to _work_ an epic poem, and -not write one. I call him a great thinker; as, indeed, his greatness of -heart already betokens that. - -Richter says of Luther’s words, “His words are half-battles.” They may -be called so. The essential quality of him was, that he could fight and -conquer--that he was a right piece of human valor. No more valiant man, -no mortal heart to be called _braver_, that one has record of, ever -lived in that Teutonic kindred whose character is valor. His defiance of -the “devils” in Worms was not a mere boast, as the like might be if now -spoken. It was a faith of Luther’s that there were devils, spiritual -denizens of the pit, continually besetting men. Many times in his -writings this turns up, and a most small sneer has been grounded on it -by some. - -In the room of the Wartburg, where he sat translating the Bible, they -still show you a black spot on the wall, the strange memorial of one of -these conflicts. Luther was translating one of the Psalms; he was worn -down with long labor, with sickness, abstinence from food; there rose -before him some hideous, indefinable image, which he took for the Evil -One, to forbid his work. Luther started up with fiend-defiance, flung -his inkstand at the specter, and it disappeared! The spot still remains -there, a curious monument of several things. Any apothecary’s apprentice -can now tell us what we are to think of this apparition in a scientific -sense; but the man’s heart that dare rise defiant, face to face, against -hell itself, can give no higher proof of fearlessness. The thing he -will quail before exists not on this earth or under it. Fearless enough! -“The devil is aware,” writes he on one occasion, “that this does not -proceed out of fear in me. I have seen and defied innumerable devils.” -Of Duke George, of Leipsic, a great enemy of his, he said, “Duke George -is not equal to one devil--far short of a devil! If I had business at -Leipsic, I would ride into Leipsic, though it rained Duke Georges for -nine days running.” What a reservoir of dukes to ride into! - -At the same time, they err greatly who imagine that this man’s courage -was ferocity--mere coarse, disobedient obstinacy and savagery--as many -do. Far from that. There may be an absence of fear, which arises from -the absence of thought or affection, from the presence of hatred and -stupid fury. We do not value the courage of the tiger highly. With -Luther it was far otherwise; no accusation could be more unjust than -this mere ferocious violence brought against him. A most gentle heart -withal, full of pity and love, as, indeed, the truly valiant heart ever -is. The tiger before a _stronger_ foe flies. The tiger is not what we -call valiant, only fierce and cruel. I know few things more touching -than those soft breathings of affection--soft as a child’s or a -mother’s--in this great, wild heart of Luther. So honest, unadulterated -with any cant; homely, rude in their utterance; pure as water welling -from the rock. What, in fact, was all this downpressed mood of despair -and reprobation which we saw in his youth but the outcome of -pre-eminent, thoughtful gentleness, affections too keen and pure? It is -the curse such men as the poor poet Cowper fall into. Luther, to a -slight observer, might have seemed a timid, weak man; modesty, -affectionate, shrinking tenderness the chief distinction of him. It is a -noble valor which is roused in a heart like this, once stirred up into -defiance, all kindled into a heavenly blaze. - -In Luther’s “Table-Talk,” a posthumous book of anecdotes and sayings -collected by his friends--the most interesting now of all the books -proceeding from him--we have many beautiful, unconscious displays of the -man and what sort of nature he had. His behavior at the death-bed of his -little daughter--so still, so great and loving--is among the most -affecting things. He is resigned that his little Magdalene should die, -yet longs inexpressibly that she might live--follows, in awe-struck -thought, the flight of her little soul through those unknown realms. -Awestruck--most heartfelt, we can see; and sincere--for, after all -dogmatic creeds and articles, he feels what nothing it is that we know -or can know. His little Magdalene shall be with God, as God wills; for -Luther, too, that is all. - -Once he looks out from his solitary Patmos, the castle of Coburg, in the -middle of the night. The great vault of immensity, long flights of -clouds sailing through it--dumb, gaunt, huge--who supports all that? -“None ever saw the pillars of it; yet it is supported.” God supports it. -We must know that God is great, that God is good; and trust, where we -can not see. Returning home from Leipsic once, he is struck by the -beauty of the harvest-fields. How it stands, that golden yellow corn, on -its fair taper stem, its golden head bent, all rich and waving there; -the meek earth, at God’s kind bidding, has produced it once again--the -bread of man! In the garden of Wittenberg, one evening at sunset, a -little bird has perched for the night. That little bird, says Luther; -above it are the stars and deep heaven of worlds; yet it has folded its -little wings; gone trustfully to rest there as in its home. The maker of -it has given it, too, a home! Neither are mirthful turns wanting--there -is a great, free, human heart in this man. - -The common speech of him has a rugged nobleness; idiomatic, expressive, -genuine; gleams here and there with beautiful poetic tints. One feels -him to be a great brother man. His love of music, indeed--is not this, -as it were, the summary of all these affections in him? Many a wild -unutterability he spoke forth from him in the tones of his flute. The -devils fled from his flute, he says. Death-defiance on the one hand, and -such love of music on the other--I could call these the two opposite -poles of a great soul; between these two all great things had room. - -Luther’s face is to me expressive of him. In Kranach’s best portraits I -find the true Luther. A rude plebeian face, with its huge, crag-like -brows and bones--the emblem of rugged energy--at first, almost a -repulsive face. Yet in the eyes especially there is a wild, silent -sorrow; an unnamable melancholy, the element of all gentle and fine -affections; giving to the rest the true stamp of nobleness. Laughter was -in this Luther, as we said; but tears also were there. Tears also were -appointed him; tears and hard toil. The basis of his life was sadness, -earnestness. In his latter days, after all triumphs and victories, he -expresses himself heartily weary of living. He considers that God alone -can and will regulate the course things are taking, and that perhaps the -day of judgment is not far. As for him, he longs for one thing--that God -would release him from his labor, and let him depart and be at rest. -They understood little of the man who cite this in discredit of him! I -will call this Luther a true great man; great in intellect, in courage, -affection, and integrity; one of our most lovable and precious men. -Great, not as a hewn obelisk, but as an Alpine mountain; so simple, -honest, spontaneous; not setting up to be great at all; there for quite -another purpose than being great! Ah, yes, unsubduable granite, piercing -far and wide into the heavens; yet, in the clefts of its fountains, -green, beautiful valleys with flowers! A right spiritual hero and -prophet; once more, a true son of nature and fact, for whom these -centuries, and many that are to come yet, will be thankful to Heaven. - - - - -IGNATIUS DE LOYOLA (SAINT), FOUNDER OF THE ORDER OF JESUS. - -BY SIR JAMES STEPHEN. - - [Don Inigo Lopez de Recalde de Loyola, born in 1491, died in 1556. - The scion of one of the noblest families in Spain, he was courtier - and soldier till he was severely wounded in defending the city of - Pampeluna against the French. A prisoner and a cripple, he became a - religious enthusiast and ascetic, and conceived the idea of forming - a body of religious soldiery for the defense of the Roman hierarchy - against the assaults of its foes. After studying for the priesthood - and taking orders, he went to Rome and with some difficulty - persuaded the pontiff Paul III, who dreaded the fanatical - discipline of such an order as much as he recognized its value, to - issue a bull in sanction of his plan. The Society of Jesus was thus - organized, and soon became, as it has continued to be, the most - powerful bulwark of Romanism, the most active center of aggression - and propagandism. The foundation of this order is recognized by - historians as an epoch in the history of religion.] - - -Descended from an illustrious family, Ignatius had in his youth been a -courtier and a cavalier, and, if not a poet, at least a cultivator of -poetry. At the siege of Pampeluna his leg was broken, and, after the -failure of mere vulgar leeches, was set by a touch from the hand of the -prince of apostles. Yet St. Peter’s therapeutic skill was less perfect -than might have been expected from so exalted a chirurgeon; for a -splinter still protruded through the skin, and the limb was shrunk and -shortened. To regain his fair proportions, Ignatius had himself -literally stretched upon the rack; and expiated by a long confinement to -his couch this singular experiment to reduce his refractory bones and -sinews. Books of knighthood relieved the lassitude of sickness, and when -these were exhausted, he betook himself to a series of still more -marvelous romances. In the legends of the Saints the disabled soldier -discovered a new field of - -[Illustration: LOYOLA.] - -emulation and glory. Compared with their self-conquests and high -rewards, the achievements and the renown of Roland and of Amadis waxed -dim. Compared with the peerless damsel for whose smiles Palladius had -fought and died, how transcendently glorious the image of female -loveliness and angelic purity which had irradiated the hermit’s cell and -the path of the way-worn pilgrims! - -Far as the heavens are above the earth would be the plighted fealty of -the knight of the Virgin Mother beyond the noblest devotion of merely -human chivalry. In her service he would cast his shield over the Church -which ascribed to her more than celestial dignities, and bathe in the -blood of her enemies the sword once desecrated to the mean ends of -worldly ambition. Nor were these vows unheeded by her to whom they were -addressed. Environed in light, and clasping her infant to her bosom, she -revealed herself to the adoring gaze of her champion. At that heavenly -vision all fantasies of worldly and sensual delight, like exorcised -demons, fled from his soul into eternal exile. He rose, suspended at her -shrine his secular weapons, performed there his nocturnal devotions, and -with returning day retired to consecrate his future life to the glory of -the _Virgo Deipara_. - -To these erotic dreams succeeded stern realities; convulsive agonies of -prayer, wailings of remorse, and self-inflicted bodily torments. -Exchanging dresses with a beggar, he lined his gabardine with prickly -thorns, fasted to the verge of starvation, assumed the demeanor of an -idiot, became too loathsome for human contact, and then, plunging into a -gloomy cavern, surrendered himself up to such wrestlings with the evil -spirit, and to such vicissitudes of rapture and despair, that in the -storm of turbid passions his reason had nearly given way. - -At the verge of madness, Ignatius paused. That noble intellect was not -to be whelmed beneath the tempest in which so many have sunk, nor was -his deliverance to be accomplished by any vulgar methods. Standing on -the steps of a Dominican church, he recited the office of Our Lady, -when suddenly heaven itself was laid open to the eyes of the worshiper. -That ineffable mystery which the author of the Athanasian creed has -labored in vain to enunciate in words, was disclosed to him as an -object, not of faith, but of actual sight. To his spiritualized sense -was disclosed the actual process by which the host is transubstantiated, -and the other Christian verities which it is permitted to common man to -receive but as exercises of their belief, became to him the objects of -immediate inspection and of direct consciousness. For eight successive -days his body reposed in an unbroken trance, while his spirit thus -imbibed disclosures for which the tongues of men have no appropriate -language. - -Ignatius returned to this sublunary sphere with a mission not unmeet for -an envoy from the empyrean world, of which he had thus become a -temporary denizen. He returned to earth to establish a theocracy, of -which he should himself be the first administrator, and to which every -tribe and kindred of men should be subject. He returned no longer a -sordid, half-distracted anchorite, but, strange to tell, a man -distinguished not more by the gigantic magnitude of his designs than by -the clear good sense, the profound sagacity, the calm perseverance, and -the flexible address with which he was to pursue them. History affords -no more perfect illustration how readily delirious enthusiasm and the -shrewdness of the exchange may combine and harmonize in minds of the -heroic order. A Swedenborg-Franklin reconciling in himself these -antagonist propensities is no monster of the fancy. - -Of all the occupations to which man can devote the earlier years of his -life, none probably leaves on the character an impress so deep and -indelible as the profession of arms. In no other calling is the whole -range of our sympathetic affections, whether kindly or the reverse, -called into such habitual and active exercise, nor does any other -stimulate the mere intellectual powers with a force so irresistible -when once they are effectually aroused from their accustomed torpor. -Loyola was a soldier to the last breath he drew, a general whose -authority none might question, a comrade on whose cordiality all might -rely, sustaining all the dangers and hardships he exacted from his -followers, and in his religious campaigns a strategist of consummate -skill and most comprehensive survey. It was his maxim that war ought to -be aggressive, and that even an inadequate force might be wisely -weakened by detachments on a distant service, if the prospect of success -was such that the vague and perhaps exaggerated rumor of it would strike -terror into nearer foes and animate the hopes of irresolute allies. To -conquer Lutheranism by converting to the faith of Rome the barbarous or -half-civilized nations of the earth was, therefore, among the earliest -of his projects. - -Though not in books, yet in the far nobler school of active and -especially of military life, Loyola had learned the great secret of -government--at least, of his government. It was that the social -affections, if concentrated within a well-defined circle, possess an -intensity and endurance unrivaled by those passions of which self is the -immediate object. He had the sagacity to perceive that emotions like -those with which a Spartan or a Jew had yearned over the land and the -institutions of their fathers--emotions stronger than appetite, vanity, -ambition, avarice, or death itself--might be kindled in the members of -his order; if he could detect and grasp those mainsprings of human -action of which the Greek and the Hebrew legislators had obtained the -mastery. Nor did he seek them in vain. - -Some unconscious love of power, a mind bewildered by many gross -superstitions and theoretical errors, and perhaps some tinge of -insanity, may be ascribed to Ignatius Loyola; but no dispassionate -reader of his writings or of his life will question his integrity, or -deny to him the praise of a devotion at once sincere, habitual, and -profound. It is not to the glory of the reformers to depreciate the name -of their greatest antagonist, or to think meanly of him to whom more -than any other man it is owing that the Reformation was stayed and the -Church of Rome rescued from her impending doom. - -From amid the controversies which then agitated the world had emerged -two great truths, of which, after three hundred years’ debate, we are -yet to find the reconcilement. It was true that the Christian -commonwealth should be one consentient body, united under one supreme -head, and bound together a community of law, of doctrine, and of -worship. It was also true that each member of that body must for -himself, on his own responsibility and at his own peril, render that -worship, study that law, and seek the guidance of the Supreme Ruler. -Here was a problem for the learned and wise, for schools, and presses, -and pulpits. But it is not by sages nor in the spirit of philosophy that -such problems receive their practical solution. Wisdom may be the -ultimate arbiter, but it is seldom the immediate agent in human affairs. -It is by antagonist passions, prejudices, and follies that the equipoise -of this most belligerent planet of ours is chiefly preserved, and so it -was in the sixteenth century. The German pointed the way to that sacred -solitude where beside the worshiper himself none may enter; the Spaniard -to that innumerable company which with one accord still chant the -liturgies of remotest generations. Chieftains in the most momentous -warfare of which this earth had been the theatre since the subversion of -paganism, each was a rival worthy of the other in capacity, courage, -disinterestedness, and love of the truth, and yet how marvelous the -contrast! - -Unalluring and, on the whole, unlovely as it is, the image of Loyola -must ever command the homage of the world. No other uninspired man, -unaided by military or civil power, and making no appeal to the passions -of the multitude, has had the genius to conceive, the courage to -attempt, and the success to establish a polity teeming with results at -once so momentous and so distinctly foreseen. Amid his ascetic follies -and his half-crazy visions, and despite all the coarse daubing with -which the miracle-mongers of his church have defaced it, his character -is destitute neither of sublimity nor of grace. Men felt that there had -appeared among them one of those monarchs who reign in right of their -own native supremacy, and to whom the feebler will of others must yield -either a ready or a reluctant allegiance. It was a conviction recorded -by his disciples on his tomb in these memorable and significant words: -“Whoever thou mayst be who hast portrayed to thine own imagination -Pompey nor Cæsar or Alexander, open thine eyes to the truth, and let -this marble teach thee how much greater a conqueror than they was -Ignatius.” - - - - -THOMAS CROMWELL, EARL OF ESSEX. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [Born about 1498, executed 1540. Cromwell began his public career - as secretary of Cardinal Wolsey, and made a brilliant reputation - for administrative ability before his patron’s fall. He acquired - the notice of Henry VIII by his loyalty to the disgraced cardinal - when all other friends had deserted him. By the king’s favor he - received the highest offices of the state, and was made Prime - Minister, finally becoming earl of Essex. Cromwell was the - political leader of the English Reformation, and the most effective - instrument in concentrating power in the hands of the king. His - impeachment and execution for high treason, however he may have - deserved his fate for his cruelty and unscrupulousness, was gross - ingratitude on the part of Henry.] - - -The debate on the suppression of the monasteries was the first instance -of opposition with which Cromwell had met, and for some time longer it -was to remain the only one. While the great revolution which struck down -the Church was in progress, England looked silently on. In all the -earlier ecclesiastical changes, in the contest over the Papal -jurisdiction and Papal exactions, in the reform of the Church courts, -even in the curtailment of the legislative independence of the clergy, -the nation as a whole had gone with the king. But from the enslavement -of the clergy, from the gagging of the pulpits, from the suppression of -the monasteries, the bulk of the nation stood aloof. It is only through -the stray depositions of royal spies that we catch a glimpse of the -wrath and hate which lay seething under this silence of a whole people. -For the silence was a silence of terror. Before Cromwell’s rise and -after his fall from power the reign of Henry VIII witnessed no more than -the common tyranny and bloodshed of the time. But the years of -Cromwell’s administration form the one period in our history which -deserves the name which men have given to the rule of Robespierre. It -was the English Terror. It was by terror that Cromwell mastered the -king. Cranmer could plead for him at a later time with Henry as “one -whose surety was only by your majesty, who loved your majesty, as I ever -thought, no less than God.” - -But the attitude of Cromwell toward the king was something more than -that of absolute dependence and unquestioning devotion. He was “so -vigilant to preserve your majesty from all treasons,” adds the primate, -“that few could be so secretly conceived but he detected the same from -the beginning.” Henry, like every Tudor, was fearless of open danger, -but tremulously sensitive to the slightest breath of hidden disloyalty. -It was on this inner dread that Cromwell based the fabric of his power. -He was hardly secretary before a host of spies were scattered broadcast -over the land. Secret denunciations poured into the open ear of the -minister. The air was thick with tales of plots and conspiracies, and -with the detection and suppression of each Cromwell tightened his hold -on the king. And as it was by terror that he mastered the king, so it -was by terror that he mastered the people. Men felt in England, to use -the figure by which Erasmus paints the time, “as if a scorpion lay -sleeping under every stone.” The confessional had no secrets for -Cromwell. Men’s talk with their closest friends found its way to his -ear. “Words idly spoken,” the murmurs of a petulant abbot, the ravings -of a moon-struck nun, were, as the nobles cried passionately at his -fall, “tortured into treason.” The only chance of safety lay in silence. -“Friends who used to write and send me presents,” Erasmus tells us, “now -send neither letter nor gifts, nor receive any from any one, and this -through fear.” - -But even the refuge of silence was closed by a law more infamous than -any that has ever blotted the statute-book of England. Not only was -thought made treason, but men were forced to reveal their thoughts on -pain of their very silence being punished with the penalties of treason. -All trust in the older bulwarks of liberty was destroyed by a policy as -daring as it was unscrupulous. The noblest institutions were degraded -into instruments of terror. Though Wolsey had strained the law to the -utmost, he had made no open attack on the freedom of justice. If he had -shrunk from assembling Parliaments, it was from his sense that they were -the bulwarks of liberty. Under Cromwell the coercion of juries and the -management of judges rendered the courts mere mouth-pieces of the royal -will: and where even this shadow of justice proved an obstacle to -bloodshed, Parliament was brought into play to pass bill after bill of -attainder. “He shall be judged by the bloody laws he has himself made,” -was the cry of the council at the moment of his fall, and, by a singular -retribution, the crowning injustice which he sought to introduce even -into the practice of attainder--the condemnation of a man without -hearing his defense--was only practiced on himself. - -But ruthless as was the Terror of Cromwell, it was of a nobler type than -the Terror of France. He never struck uselessly or capriciously, or -stooped to the meaner victims of the guillotine. His blows were -effective just because he chose his victims from among the noblest and -the best. If he struck at the Church, it was through the Carthusians, -the holiest and the most renowned of English churchmen. If he struck at -the baronage, it was through the Courtenays and the Poles, in whose -veins flowed the blood of kings. If he struck at the New Learning, it -was through the murder of Sir Thomas More. But no personal -vindictiveness mingled with his crime. In temper, indeed, so far as we -can judge from the few stories which lingered among his friends, he was -a generous, kind-hearted man, with pleasant and winning manners which -atoned for a certain awkwardness of person, and with a constancy of -friendship which won him a host of devoted adherents. But no touch -either of love or hate swayed him from his course. - -The student of Macchiavelli had not studied the “Prince” in vain. He had -reduced bloodshed to a system. Fragments of his papers still show us -with what a business-like brevity he ticked off human lives among the -casual “remembrances” of the day. “Item, the Abbot of Reading to be sent -down to be tried and executed at Reading.” “Item, to know the king’s -pleasure touching Master More.” “Item, when Master Fisher shall go to -his execution, and the other.” It is indeed this utter absence of all -passion, of all personal feeling, that makes the figure of Cromwell the -most terrible in our history. He has an absolute faith in the end he is -pursuing, and he simply hews his way to it as a woodman hews his way -through the forest, axe in hand. - -His single will forced on a scheme of foreign policy whose aim was to -bind England to the cause of the Reformation while it bound Henry -helplessly to his minister. The daring boast which his enemies laid -afterward to his charge, whether uttered or not, is but the expression -of his system. “In brief time he would bring things to such a pass that -the king with all his power should not be able to hinder him.” His plans -rested, like the plan which proved fatal to Wolsey, on a fresh marriage -of his master. The short-lived royalty of Anne Boleyn had ended in -charges of adultery and treason, and in her death in May, 1536. Her -rival and successor in Henry’s affections, Jane Seymour, died the next -year in childbirth; and Cromwell replaced her with a German consort, -Anne of Cleves, a sister-in-law of the Lutheran elector of Saxony. He -dared even to resist Henry’s caprice, when the king revolted on their -first interview at the coarse features and unwieldy form of his new -bride. For the moment Cromwell had brought matters “to such a pass” that -it was impossible to recoil from the marriage. - -The marriage of Anne of Cleves, however, was but the first step in a -policy which, had it been carried out as he designed it, would have -anticipated the triumphs of Richelieu. Charles and the house of Austria -could alone bring about a Catholic reaction strong enough to arrest and -roll back the Reformation; and Cromwell was no sooner united with the -princes of North Germany than he sought to league them with France for -the overthrow of the emperor. Had he succeeded, the whole face of Europe -would have been changed, Southern Germany would have been secured for -Protestantism, and the Thirty Years’ War averted. He failed as men fail -who stand ahead of their age. The German princes shrank from a contest -with the emperor, France from a struggle which would be fatal to -Catholicism; and Henry, left alone to bear the resentment of the House -of Austria, and chained to a wife he loathed, turned savagely on -Cromwell. The nobles sprang on him with a fierceness that told of their -long-hoarded hate. Taunts and execrations burst from the lords at the -council table, as the Duke of Norfolk, who had been charged with the -minister’s arrest, tore the ensign of the garter from his neck. At the -charge of treason Cromwell flung his cap on the ground with a passionate -cry of despair. “This, then,” he exclaimed, “is my guerdon for the -services I have done! On your consciences, I ask you, am I a traitor?” -Then, with a sudden sense that all was over, he bade his foes “make -quick work, and not leave me to languish in prison.” Quick work was -made, and a yet louder burst of popular applause than that which hailed -the attainder of Cromwell hailed his execution. - - - - -CHARLES V, EMPEROR OF GERMANY. - -BY JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY. - - [Charles V, of Germany, and king of Spain under title of Charles I, - born 1500, died 1558. This fortunate monarch inherited from his - father, Archduke Philip of Austria, the Hapsburg dominion in - Germany; through his grandmother, the dukedom of Burgundy, which - included the Netherlands; and through his maternal grandfather, - Ferdinand of Spain, the magnificent dominion of the latter country - in both the New and Old Worlds. He was elected Emperor of Germany - by the diet in 1519, and was the most rich and powerful prince in - Christendom. Among the notable events of his reign were the - outbreak of Luther’s reformation, the defeat and capture of Francis - I of France, the capture and sack of Rome by his generalissimo, the - Constable de Bourbon, the two defeats of the Turkish power in - Hungary, and the severe punishment of the Mohammedan pirates of - Africa. Though Charles could turn his arms against the pontiff when - policy dictated, and was not a religious bigot, he strained every - nerve to suppress the Lutheran reformation for political reasons. - He was at last, however, obliged to assent to a certain degree of - religious toleration, fixed by the Nuremburg agreement in 1532, and - that of Augsburg in 1548. He abdicated in favor of his son Philip - in 1556, and spent the last two years of his life in the convent of - Yuste in Spain.] - - -The edicts and the Inquisition were the gifts of Charles to the -Netherlands, in return for their wasted treasure and their constant -obedience. For this his name deserves to be handed down to eternal -infamy, not only throughout the Netherlands but in every land where a -single heart beats for political or religious freedom. To eradicate -these institutions after they had been watered and watched by the care -of his successor, was the work of an eighty years’ war, in the course of -which millions of lives were sacrificed. Yet - -[Illustration: CHARLES THE FIFTH.] - -the abdicating emperor had summoned his faithful estates around him, and -stood up before them in his imperial robes for the last time, to tell -them of the affectionate regard which he had always borne them, and to -mingle his tears with theirs. - -Could a single phantom have risen from one of the many thousand graves -where human beings had been thrust alive by his decree, perhaps there -might have been an answer to the question propounded by the emperor amid -all that piteous weeping. Perhaps it might have told the man, who asked -his hearers to be forgiven if he had ever unwittingly offended them, -that there was a world where it was deemed an offence to torture, -strangle, burn, and drown one’s innocent fellow-creatures. The usual but -trifling excuse for such enormities can not be pleaded for the emperor. -Charles was no fanatic. The man whose armies sacked Rome, who laid -sacrilegious hand on Christ’s vicegerent, and kept the infallible head -of the Church a prisoner to serve his own political ends, was _then_ no -bigot. He believed in nothing, save that when the course of his imperial -will was impeded and the interests of his imperial house in jeopardy, -pontiffs were wont to succumb as well as anabaptists. It was the -political heresy which lurked in the restiveness of the religious -reformers under dogma, tradition, and supernatural sanction to temporal -power, which he was disposed to combat to the death. He was too shrewd a -politician not to recognize the connection between aspirations for -religious and for political freedom. His hand was ever ready to crush -both heresies in one. Had he been a true son of the Church, a faithful -champion of her infallibility, he would not have submitted to the peace -of Passau so long as he could bring a soldier to the field. - -Yet he acquiesced in the Reformation for Germany, while the fires were -burning for the reformers and were ever blazing in the Netherlands, -where it was death even to allude to the existence of the peace of -Passau. Nor did he acquiesce only from compulsion, for, long before his -memorable defeat by Maurice, he had permitted the German troops, with -whose services he could not dispense, regularly to attend Protestant -worship performed by their own Protestant chaplains. Lutheran preachers -marched from city to city of the Netherlands under the imperial banner, -while the subjects of those patrimonial provinces were daily suffering -on the scaffold for their non-conformity. - -The influence of this garrison-preaching upon the progress of the -Reformation in the Netherlands is well known. Charles hated Lutherans, -but he required soldiers, and he thus helped by his own policy to -disseminate what, had he been the fanatic which he perhaps became in -retirement, he would have sacrificed his life to crush. It is quite true -that the growing Calvinism of the provinces was more dangerous, both -religiously and politically, than the Protestantism of the German -princes, which had not yet been formally pronounced heresy; but it is -thus the more evident that it was political rather than religious -heterodoxy which the despot wished to suppress. - -No man, however, could have been more observant of religious rites. He -heard mass daily. He listened to a sermon every Sunday and holiday. He -confessed and received the sacrament four times a year. He was sometimes -to be seen in his tent at midnight on his knees before a crucifix, with -eyes and hands uplifted. He ate no meat in Lent, and used extraordinary -diligence to discover and to punish any man, whether courtier or -plebeian, who failed to fast during the whole forty days. He was too -good a politician not to know the value of broad phylacteries and long -prayers. He was too nice an observer of human nature not to know how -easily mint and cummin could still outweigh the “weightier matters of -law, judgment, mercy, and faith”; as if the founder of the religion -which he professed, and to maintain which he had established the -inquisition and the edicts, had never cried “woe” upon the Pharisees. - -Yet there is no doubt that the emperor was at times almost popular in -the Netherlands, and that he was never as odious as his successor. There -were some deep reasons for this, and some superficial ones; among -others, a singularly fortunate manner. He spoke German, Spanish, -Italian, French, and Flemish, and could assume the characteristics of -each country as easily as he could use its language. He could be stately -with Spaniards, familiar with Flemings, witty with Italians. He could -strike down a bull in the ring like a matador at Madrid, or win the -prize in the tourney like a knight of old; he could ride at the ring -with the Flemish nobles, hit the popinjay with his cross-bow among -Antwerp artisans, or drink beer and exchange rude jests with the boors -of Brabant. For virtues such as these his grave crimes against God and -man, against religion and chartered and solemnly-sworn rights, have been -palliated, as if oppression became more tolerable because the oppressor -was an accomplished linguist and a good marksman. - -But the great reason for his popularity, no doubt, lay in his military -genius. Charles was inferior to no general of his age. “When he was born -into the world,” said Alva, “he was born a soldier”; and the emperor -confirmed the statement and reciprocated the compliment, when he -declared that “the three first captains of the age was himself first, -and then the Duke of Alva and Constable Montmorency.” It is quite true -that all his officers were not of the same opinion, and many were too -apt to complain that his constant presence in the field did more harm -than good, and “that his Majesty would do much better to stay at home.” -There is, however, no doubt that he was both a good soldier and a good -general. He was constitutionally fearless, and he possessed great energy -and endurance. He was ever the first to arm when a battle was to be -fought, and the last to take off his harness. He commanded in person and -in chief, even when surrounded by veterans and crippled by the gout. He -was calm in great reverses. It was said that he was never known to -change color except upon two occasions--after the fatal destruction of -his fleet at Algiers, and in the memorable flight from Innspruck. - -He was of a phlegmatic, stoical temperament, until shattered by age and -disease; a man without sentiment and without a tear. It was said by -Spaniards that he was never seen to weep, even at the death of his -nearest relatives and friends, except on the solitary occasion of the -departure of Don Ferrante Gonzaga from court. Such a temperament was -invaluable in the stormy career to which he had devoted his life. He was -essentially a man of action, a military chieftain. “Pray only for my -health and my life,” he was accustomed to say to the young officers who -came to him from every part of his dominions to serve under his banners, -“for so long as I have these I will never leave you idle--at least in -France. I love peace no better than the rest of you. I was born and bred -to arms, and must of necessity keep on my harness till I can bear it no -longer.” The restless energy and the magnificent tranquillity of his -character made him a hero among princes, an idol with his officers, a -popular favorite everywhere. The promptness with which, at much personal -hazard, he descended like a thunderbolt in the midst of the Ghent -insurrection; the juvenile ardor with which the almost bed-ridden man -arose from his sickbed to smite the Protestants at Mühlberg; the grim -stoicism with which he saw sixty thousand of his own soldiers perish in -the wintry siege of Metz--all insured him a large measure of that -applause which ever follows military distinction, especially when the -man who achieves it happens to wear a crown. He combined the personal -prowess of a knight of old with the more modern accomplishments of a -scientific tactician. He could charge the enemy in person like the most -brilliant cavalry officer, and he thoroughly understood the arrangements -of a campaign, the marshaling and victualing of troops, and the whole -art of setting and maintaining an army in the field. - -Yet, though brave and warlike as the most chivalrous of his -ancestors--Gothic, Burgundian, or Suabian--he was entirely without -chivalry. Fanaticism for the faith, protection for the oppressed, -fidelity to friend or foe, knightly loyalty to a cause deemed sacred, -the sacrifice of personal interests to great ideas, generosity of hand -and heart--all those qualities which unite with courage and constancy to -make up the ideal chevalier, Charles not only lacked but despised. He -trampled on the weak antagonist, whether burgher or petty potentate. He -was false as water. He inveigled his foes, who trusted to his imperial -promises, by arts unworthy an emperor or a gentleman. He led about the -unfortunate John Frederic, of Saxony, in his own language, “like a bear -in a chain,” ready to be slipped upon Maurice should “the boy” prove -ungrateful. He connived at the famous forgery of the prelate of Arras, -to which the Landgrave Philip owed his long imprisonment--a villainy -worse than many for which humbler rogues have suffered by thousands upon -the gallows. The contemporary world knew well the history of his frauds, -on scale both colossal and minute, and called him familiarly “Charles -qui triche.” - -The absolute master of realms on which the sun perpetually shone, he was -not only greedy for additional dominion, but he was avaricious in small -matters, and hated to part with a hundred dollars. To the soldier who -brought him the sword and gauntlets of Francis I he gave a hundred -crowns, when ten thousand would have been less than the customary -present; so that the man left his presence full of desperation. The -three soldiers who swam the Elbe, with their swords in their mouths, to -bring him the boats with which he passed to the victory of Mühlberg, -received from his imperial bounty a doublet, a pair of stockings, and -four crowns apiece. His courtiers and ministers complained bitterly of -his habitual niggardliness, and were fain to eke out their slender -salaries by accepting bribes from every hand rich enough to bestow them. -In truth, Charles was more than anything else a politician, -notwithstanding his signal abilities as a soldier. - -If to have founded institutions which could last be the test of -statesmanship, he was even a statesman, for many of his institutions -have resisted the pressure of three centuries; but those of Charlemagne -fell as soon as his hand was cold, while the works of many ordinary -legislators have attained to a perpetuity denied to the statutes of -Solon or Lycurgus. Durability is not the test of merit in human -institutions. Tried by the only touchstone applicable to governments, -their capacity to insure the highest welfare of the governed, we shall -not find his polity deserving of much admiration. It is not merely that -he was a despot by birth and inclination, nor that he naturally -substituted, as far as was practicable, the despotic for the republican -element wherever his hand can be traced. There may be possible good in -despotisms, as there is often much tyranny in democracy. Tried, however, -according to the standard by which all governments may be measured, -those laws of truth and divine justice which all Christian nations -recognize, and which are perpetual, whether recognized or not, we shall -find little to venerate in the life-work of the emperor. The interests -of his family, the security of his dynasty--these were his end and aim. -The happiness or the progress of his people never furnished even the -indirect motives of his conduct, and the result was a baffled policy and -a crippled and bankrupt empire at last. - -He knew men--especially he knew their weaknesses, and he knew how to -turn them to account. He knew how much they would bear, and that little -grievances would sometimes inflame more than vast and deliberate -injustice. Therefore he employed natives mainly in the subordinate -offices of his various states, and he repeatedly warned his successor -that the haughtiness of Spaniards and the incompatibility of their -character with the Flemish would be productive of great difficulties and -dangers. It was his opinion that men might be tyrannized more -intelligently by their own kindred, and in this, perhaps, he was right. -He was indefatigable in the discharge of business; and if it were -possible that half a world could be administered as if it were the -private property of an individual, the task would have been, perhaps, as -well accomplished by Charles as by any man. He had not the absurdity of -supposing it possible for him to attend to the details of every -individual affair in every one of his realms, and he therefore intrusted -the stewardship of all specialties to his various ministers and agents. -It was his business to know men and to deal with affairs on a large -scale, and in this he certainly was superior to his successor. His -correspondence was mainly in the hands of Granvelle the elder, who -analyzed letters received, and frequently wrote all but the signatures -of the answers. The same minister usually possessed the imperial ear, -and farmed it out for his own benefit. In all this there was, of course, -room for vast deception; but the emperor was quite aware of what was -going on, and took a philosophic view of the matter as an inevitable -part of his system. Granvelle grew enormously rich under his eye by -trading on the imperial favor and sparing his Majesty much trouble. - -Charles saw it all, ridiculed his peculations, but called him his “bed -of down.” His knowledge of human nature was, however, derived from a -contemplation mainly of its weaknesses, and was therefore one-sided. He -was often deceived and made many a fatal blunder, shrewd politician -though he was. He involved himself often in enterprises which could not -be honorable or profitable, and which inflicted damage on his greatest -interests. He often offended men who might have been useful friends, and -converted allies into enemies. “His Majesty,” said a keen observer who -knew him well, “has not in his career shown the prudence which was -necessary to him. He has often offended those whose love he might have -conciliated, converted friends into enemies, and let those perish who -were his most faithful partisans.” Thus it must be acknowledged that -even his boasted knowledge of human nature and his power of dealing with -men was rather superficial and empirical than the real gift of genius. - - - - -WILLIAM OF NASSAU, PRINCE OF ORANGE. - -BY JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY. - - [Surnamed “the Silent,” founder of the independence of the - Netherlands, born 1533, assassinated 1584. Though the scion of a - Protestant family, the Prince of Orange was educated to arms and - diplomacy at the court of Charles V, by whom he was greatly beloved - and trusted. On the accession of Philip he was made a Councilor of - State to assist Margaret of Parma in her regency over the - Netherlands. All ties of loyalty were gradually destroyed by his - love of country, so terribly outraged by the cruelties of a bigoted - king and his no less bigoted agents. On Alva’s arrival with Spanish - troops the prince returned to Germany, and thus saved himself from - the headsman, the fate which befell counts Egmont and Horn, two of - the most eminent Flemish patriots. In the uprising of the - Netherlands, which followed, the Prince of Orange was the most - eminent figure, and to the consummate skill with which he guided - the fate of his people their ultimate success was due. William, at - the head of his brave Flemings, and with the capricious assistance - of France and England, wore out three of the greatest generals of - the age, the Duke of Alva, Don John of Austria, and Prince - Alexander Farnese. The price put on his assassination by the King - of Spain was finally earned by Baltazar Gérard, a Burgundian - fanatic.] - - -In person, Orange was above the middle height, perfectly well made and -sinewy, but rather spare than stout. His eyes, hair, beard, and -complexion were brown; his head was small, symmetrically shaped, -combining the alertness and compactness characteristic of the soldier, -with the capacious brow furrowed prematurely with the horizontal lines -of - -[Illustration: WILLIAM OF NASSAU.] - -thought, denoting the statesman and the sage. His physical appearance -was, therefore, in harmony with his organization, which was of antique -model. Of his moral qualities, the most prominent was his piety. He was -more than anything else a religious man. From his trust in God he ever -derived support and consolation in the darkest hours. Implicitly relying -upon Almighty wisdom and goodness, he looked danger in the face with a -constant smile, and endured incessant labors and trials with a serenity -which seemed more than human. While, however, his soul was full of -piety, it was tolerant of error. - -Sincerely and deliberately himself a convert to the Reformed Church, he -was ready to extend freedom of worship to Catholics on the one hand, and -to Anabaptists on the other; for no man ever felt more keenly than he, -that the reformer who becomes in his turn a bigot is doubly odious. - -His firmness was allied to his piety. His constancy in bearing the whole -weight of as unequal a struggle as men have ever undertaken, was the -theme of admiration even to his enemies. The rock in the ocean, -“tranquil amid raging billows,” was the favorite emblem by which his -friends expressed their sense of his firmness. From the time when, as a -hostage in France, he first discovered the plan of Philip to plant the -Inquisition in the Netherlands, up to the last moment of his life, he -never faltered in his determination to resist that iniquitous scheme. -This resistance was the labor of his life. To exclude the Inquisition, -to maintain the ancient liberties of his country, was the task which he -appointed to himself when a youth of three-and-twenty. Never speaking a -word concerning a heavenly mission, never deluding himself or others -with the usual phraseology of enthusiasts, he accomplished the task, -through danger, amid toils, and with sacrifices such as few men have -ever been able to make on their country’s altar; for the disinterested -benevolence of the man was as prominent as his fortitude. - -A prince of high rank and with royal revenues, he stripped himself of -station, wealth, almost, at times, of the common necessaries of life, -and became, in his country’s cause, nearly a beggar as well as an -outlaw. Nor was he forced into his career by an accidental impulse from -which there was no recovery. Retreat was ever open to him. Not only -pardon but advancement was urged upon him again and again. Officially -and privately, directly and circuitously, his confiscated estates, -together with indefinite and boundless favors in addition, were offered -to him on every great occasion. On the arrival of Don John at the Breda -negotiations, at the Cologne conferences, we have seen how calmly these -offers were waved aside, as if their rejection was so simple that it -hardly required many words for its signification; yet he had mortgaged -his estate so deeply that his heirs hesitated at accepting their -inheritance, for fear it should involve them in debt. Ten years after -his death, the account between his executors and his brother John -amounted to one million four hundred thousand florins due to the Count, -secured by various pledges of real and personal property, and it was -finally settled upon this basis. - -He was, besides, largely indebted to every one of his powerful -relatives, so that the payment of the incumbrances upon his estate very -nearly justified the fears of his children. While on the one hand, -therefore, he poured out these enormous sums like water, and firmly -refused a hearing to the tempting offers of the royal government, upon -the other hand he proved the disinterested nature of his services by -declining, year after year, the sovereignty over the provinces, and by -only accepting in the last days of his life, when refusal had become -almost impossible, the limited, constitutional supremacy over that -portion of them which now makes the realm of his descendants. He lived -and died, not for himself, but for his country. “God pity this poor -people!” were his dying words. - -His intellectual faculties were various and of the highest order. He had -the exact, practical, and combining qualities which make the great -commander, and his friends claimed that, in military genius, he was -second to no captain in Europe. This was, no doubt, an exaggeration of -partial attachment, but it is certain that the Emperor Charles had an -exalted opinion of his capacity for the field. His fortification of -Philippeville and Charlemont, in the face of the enemy; his passage of -the Meuse in Alva’s sight; his unfortunate but well-ordered campaign -against that general; his sublime plan of relief, projected and -successfully directed at last from his sick bed, for the besieged city -of Leyden, will always remain monuments of his practical military skill. - -Of the soldier’s great virtues--constancy in disaster, devotion to duty, -hopefulness in defeat--no man ever possessed a larger share. He arrived, -through a series of reverses, at a perfect victory. He planted a free -commonwealth under the very battery of the Inquisition, in defiance of -the most powerful empire existing. He was, therefore, a conqueror in the -loftiest sense, for he conquered liberty and a national existence for a -whole people. The contest was long, and he fell in the struggle, but the -victory was to the dead hero, not to the living monarch. - -It is to be remembered, too, that he always wrought with inferior -instruments. His troops were usually mercenaries, who were but too apt -to mutiny upon the eve of battle, while he was opposed by the most -formidable veterans of Europe, commanded successively by the first -captains of the age. That, with no lieutenant of eminent valor or -experience save only his brother Louis, and with none at all after that -chieftain’s death, William of Orange should succeed in baffling the -efforts of Alva, Requescens, Don John of Austria, and Alexander -Farnese--men whose names are among the most brilliant in the military -annals of the world--is in itself sufficient evidence of his warlike -capacity. At the period of his death, he had reduced the number of -obedient provinces to two--only Artois and Hainault acknowledging -Philip--while the other fifteen were in open revolt, the greater part -having solemnly forsworn their sovereign. - -The supremacy of his political genius was entirely beyond question. He -was the first statesman of the age. The quickness of his perception was -only equaled by the caution which enabled him to mature the results of -his observations. His knowledge of human nature was profound. He -governed the passions and sentiments of a great nation as if they had -been but the keys and chords of one vast instrument; and his hand rarely -failed to evoke harmony even out of the wildest storms. The turbulent -city of Ghent, which could obey no other master, which even the haughty -emperor could only crush without controlling, was ever responsive to the -master-hand of Orange. His presence scared away Imbize and his bat-like -crew, confounded the schemes of John Casimir, frustrated the wiles of -Prince Chimay, and while he lived, Ghent was what it ought always to -have remained, the bulwark, as it had been the cradle, of popular -liberty. After his death it became its tomb. - -Ghent, saved twice by the policy, the eloquence, the self-sacrifices of -Orange, fell within three months of his murder into the hands of Parma. -The loss of this most important city, followed in the next year by the -downfall of Antwerp, sealed the fate of the southern Netherlands. Had -the prince lived, how different might have been the country’s fate! If -seven provinces could dilate, in so brief a space, into the powerful -commonwealth which the republic soon became, what might not have been -achieved by the united seventeen--a confederacy which would have united -the adamantine vigor of the Batavian and Frisian races with the subtler, -more delicate, and more graceful national elements in which the genius -of the Frank, the Roman, and the Romanized Celt were so intimately -blended. As long as the father of the country lived, such a union was -possible. His power of managing men was so unquestionable that there was -always a hope, even in the darkest hour; for men felt implicit reliance -as well on his intellectual resources as on his integrity. - -This power of dealing with his fellow-men he manifested in the various -ways in which it has been usually exhibited by statesmen. He possessed a -ready eloquence--sometimes impassioned, oftener argumentative, always -rational. His influence over his audience was unexampled in the annals -of that country or age; yet he never condescended to flatter the people. -He never followed the nation, but always led her in the path of duty and -of honor, and was much more prone to rebuke the vices than to pander to -the passions of his hearers. He never failed to administer ample -chastisement to parsimony, to jealousy, to insubordination, to -intolerance, to infidelity, wherever it was due, nor feared to confront -the states or the people in their most angry hours, and to tell them the -truth to their faces. This commanding position he alone could stand -upon, for his countrymen knew the generosity which had sacrificed his -all for them, the self-denial which had eluded rather than sought -political advancement, whether from king or people, and the untiring -devotion which had consecrated a whole life to toil and danger in the -cause of their emancipation. - -While, therefore, he was ever ready to rebuke, and always too honest to -flatter, he at the same time possessed the eloquence which could -convince or persuade. He knew how to reach both the mind and the heart -of his hearers. His orations, whether extemporaneous or prepared; his -written messages to the states-general, to the provincial authorities, -to the municipal bodies; his private correspondence with men of all -ranks, from emperors and kings down to secretaries, and even children, -all show an easy flow of language, a fullness of thought, a power of -expression rare in that age, a fund of historical allusion, a -considerable power of imagination, a warmth of sentiment, a breadth of -view, a directness of purpose, a range of qualities, in short, which -would in themselves have stamped him as one of the master-minds of his -century, had there been no other monument to his memory than the remains -of his spoken or written eloquence. - -The bulk of his performances in this department was prodigious. Not even -Philip was more industrious in the cabinet. Not even Granvelle held a -more facile pen. He wrote and spoke equally well in French, German, or -Flemish; and he possessed, besides, Spanish, Italian, Latin. The weight -of his correspondence alone would have almost sufficed for the common -industry of a lifetime; and although many volumes of his speeches and -letters have been published, there remain in the various archives of the -Netherlands and Germany many documents from his hand which will probably -never see the light. If the capacity for unremitted intellectual labor -in an honorable cause be the measure of human greatness, few minds could -be compared to the “large composition” of this man. The efforts made to -destroy the Netherlands by the most laborious and painstaking of tyrants -were counteracted by the industry of the most indefatigable of patriots. - -He went through life bearing the load of a people’s sorrows upon his -shoulders with a smiling face. Their name was the last word upon his -lips, save the simple affirmative, with which the soldier who had been -battling for the right all his lifetime commended his soul in dying “to -his great captain, Christ.” The people were grateful and affectionate, -for they trusted the character of their “Father Wiliam,” and not all the -clouds which calumny could collect ever dimmed to their eyes the -radiance of that lofty mind to which they were accustomed, in their -darkest calamities, to look for light. As long as he lived he was the -guiding star of a whole brave nation, and when he died the little -children cried in the streets. - - - - -JOHN KNOX. - -BY JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE. - - [The greatest of the Scotch religious reformers, born in 1505, died - 1572, distinguished for a stern fanaticism as intolerant as that of - the Roman Church, against which he battled. He had suffered - bitterly from persecution during his earlier life, and for - lengthened periods been an exile from Scotland, but remained always - the head and front of the new propaganda till the establishment of - the Reformed religion in 1560, which carried with it the - interdiction of Roman Catholicism. On the arrival of the young - queen Mary Stuart from France, in 1561, Knox soon became the - sharpest critic of her life and policy. His unsparing antagonism - and influence with the Protestant lords did much to make Mary’s - position a very difficult one, and to precipitate the events which - finally drove her from Scotland and made her an English prisoner. - Knox was known to have been an ardent advocate of Mary’s death long - prior to the queen’s execution at Fotheringay.] - - -Our primary characteristic of a hero, that he is sincere, applies -emphatically to Knox. It is not denied anywhere that this, whatever -might be his other qualities or faults, is among the truest of men. With -a singular instinct he holds to the truth and fact; the truth alone is -there for him, the rest a mere shadow and a deceptive nonentity. However -feeble, forlorn the reality may seem, on that and that only _can_ he -take his stand. In the galleys of the river Loire--whither Knox and the -others, after their castle of St. Andrews was taken, had been sent as -galley-slaves--some officer or priest one day presented them an image of -the Virgin Mother, requiring that they, the blasphemous heretics, should -do it reverence. “Mother? Mother of God?” said Knox, when the turn came -to him: “This is no Mother of God; this is a _pented bredd_--a piece of -wood, I tell you, with paint on it! She is fitter for swimming, I think, -than for being worshiped,” added Knox, and flung the thing into the -river. It was not very cheap jesting there; but come of it what might, -this thing to Knox was and must continue nothing other than the real -truth; it was a _pented bredd_: worship it he would not. - -He told his fellow-prisoners, in this darkest time, to be of courage; -the cause they had was a true one, and must and would prosper; the whole -world could not put it down. Reality is of God’s making; it is alone -strong. How many _pented bredds_, pretending to be real, are fitter to -swim than to be worshiped! This Knox can not live but by fact: he clings -to reality as the shipwrecked sailor to the cliff. He is an instance to -us how a man by sincerity itself becomes heroic; it is the grand gift he -has. We find in Knox a good, honest, intellectual talent, no -transcendent one; a narrow, inconsiderable man as compared with Luther, -but in heartfelt, instinctive adherence to truth, in _sincerity_, as we -say, he has no superior; nay, one might ask, What equal he has? The -heart of him is of the true prophet cast. “He lies there,” said the Earl -of Morton at his grave, “who never feared the face of man.” He -resembles, more than any of the moderns, an old Hebrew prophet. The same -inflexibility, intolerance, rigid, narrow-looking adherence to God’s -truth, stern rebuke in the name of God to all that forsake truth; an old -Hebrew prophet in the guise of an Edinburgh minister of the sixteenth -century. We are to take him for that; not require him to be other. - -Knox’s conduct to Queen Mary, the harsh visits he used to make in her -own palace to reprove her there, have been much commented upon. Such -cruelty, such coarseness fill us with indifference. On reading the -actual narrative of the business, what Knox said and what Knox meant, I -must say one’s tragic feeling is rather disappointed. They are not so -coarse, these speeches; they seem to me about as fine as the -circumstances would permit. Knox was not there to do the courtier; he -came on another errand. Whoever, reading these colloquies of his with -the queen, thinks they are vulgar insolences of a plebeian priest to a -delicate high lady, mistakes the purport and essence of them -altogether. It was unfortunately not possible to be polite with the -Queen of Scotland, unless one proved untrue to the nation and cause of -Scotland. - -A man who did not wish to see the land of his birth made a hunting-field -for intriguing, ambitious Guises, and the cause of God trampled under -foot of falsehoods, formulas, and the devil’s cause, had no method of -making himself agreeable. “Better that women weep,” said Morton, “than -that bearded men be forced to weep.” Knox was the constitutional -opposition party in Scotland; the nobles of the country, called by their -station to take that post, were not found in it; Knox had to go, or no -one. The hapless queen--but still the more hapless country, if _she_ -were made happy! Mary herself was not without sharpness enough, among -her other qualities. “Who are you,” said she once, “that presume to -school the nobles and sovereign of this realm?” “Madam, a subject born -within the same,” answered he. Reasonably answered! If the “subject” -have truth to speak, it is not the “subject’s” footing that will fail -him here. - -We blame Knox for his intolerance. Well, surely it is good that each of -us be as tolerant as possible. Yet, at bottom, after all the talk there -is and has been about it, what is tolerance? Tolerance is to tolerate -the unessential, and to see well what that is. Tolerance has to be -noble, measured, just in its very wrath, when it can tolerate no longer. -But, on the whole, we are not altogether here to tolerate. We are here -to resist, to control, and vanquish withal. We do not “tolerate” -falsehoods, thieveries, iniquities, when they fasten on us; we say to -them, Thou art false! thou art not tolerable! We are here to extinguish -falsehoods, and to put an end to them in some wise way. I will not -quarrel so much with the way; the doing of the thing is our great -concern. In this sense Knox was, full surely, intolerant. - -A man sent to row in the French galleys, and such like, for teaching -the truth in his own land, can not always be in the mildest humor. I am -not prepared to say that Knox had a soft temper, nor do I know that he -had what we call an ill temper. An ill nature he decidedly had not. -Kind, honest affections dwell in the much-enduring, hard-worn, -ever-battling man. That he _could_ rebuke queens, and had such weight -among those proud, turbulent nobles--proud enough, whatever else they -were--and could maintain to the end a kind of virtual presidency and -sovereignty over that wild realm, he who was only “a subject born within -the same”; this of itself will prove to us that he was found, close at -hand, to be no mean, acrid man, but at heart a healthful, strong, -sagacious man. Such alone can bear rule in that kind. They blame him for -pulling down cathedrals, and so forth, as if he were a seditious, -rioting demagogue; precisely the reverse is seen to be the fact in -regard to cathedrals and the rest of it, if we examine. Knox wanted no -pulling down of stone edifices; he wanted leprosy and darkness thrown -out of the lives of men. Tumult was not his element. It was the tragic -feature of his life that he was forced to dwell so much in that. Every -such man is the born enemy of disorder--hates to be in it; but what -then? Smooth falsehood is not order. It is the general sum-total of -_dis_order. Order is _truth_--each thing standing on the basis that -belongs to it. Order and falsehood can not subsist together. - -Withal, unexpectedly enough, this Knox has a vein of drollery in him, -which I like much, in combination with his other qualities. He has a -true eye for the ridiculous. His history, with its rough earnestness, is -curiously enlivened with this. When the two prelates, entering Glasgow -Cathedral, quarrel about precedence, march rapidly up, take to hustling -one another, twitching one another’s rochets, and at last flourishing -their crosiers like quarter-staves, it is a great sight for him every -way. Not mockery, scorn, bitterness alone, though there is enough of -that too; but a true, loving, illuminating laugh mounts up over the -earnest visage; not a loud laugh; you would say a laugh in the _eyes_ -most of all. An honest-hearted, brotherly man; brother to the high, -brother also to the low; sincere in his sympathy with both. He had his -pipe of Bordeaux too, we find, in that old Edinburgh house of his--a -cheery, social man, with faces that loved him. They go far wrong who -think this Knox was a gloomy, spasmodic, shrieking fanatic. Not at all; -he is one of the solidest of men. Practical, cautious, hopeful, patient; -a most shrewd, observing, quietly discerning man. In fact, he has very -much the type of character we assign to the Scotch at present. A certain -sardonic taciturnity is in him; insight enough, and a stouter heart than -he himself knows of. He has the power of holding his peace over many -things which do not vitally concern him--“They, what are they?” But the -thing which does vitally concern him, that thing he will speak of, and -in a tone the whole world shall be made to hear, all the more emphatic -for his long silence. - -This prophet of the Scotch is to me no hateful man. He had a sore fight -of an existence; wrestling with popes and principalities; in defeat, -contention, life-long struggle; rowing as a galley-slave, wandering as -an exile. A sore fight; but he won it. “Have you hope?” they asked him -in his last moment, when he could no longer speak. He lifted his finger, -“pointed upward with his finger,” and so died. Honor to him. His works -have not died. The letter of his work dies, as of all men’s, but the -spirit of it never. - - - - -DUKE OF ALVA. - -BY JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY. - - [Ferdinando Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of Alva, a Spanish statesman - and general, born 1508, died 1582. From his earliest years a - soldier, the dominating passion of his soul was hatred of heretics - and infidels. He bore a distinguished part in the wars and - negotiations of Charles V’s splendid reign, and on the accession of - Philip II was equally honored by that monarch. On the outbreak of - the rebellion in the Netherlands, Alva was sent thither with an - army, as viceroy. His six years of rule was one of the most bloody - and atrocious episodes in modern history. His great opponent was - the Prince of Orange. Utterly failing in stamping out the - rebellion, he was recalled by his master in 1573.] - - -Ferdinando Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of Alva, was the most successful and -experienced general of Spain, or of Europe. No man studied more deeply, -or practiced more constantly the military science. In the most important -of all arts at that epoch, he was the most consummate artist. In the -only honorable profession of the age, he was the most thorough and the -most pedantic professor. Since the days of Demetrius Poliorcetes, no man -had besieged so many cities. Since the days of Fabius Cunctator, no -general had avoided so many battles, and no soldier, courageous as he -was, ever attained to a more sublime indifference to calumny or -depreciation. Having proved in his boyhood, at Fontarabia, and in his -maturity, at Mühlberg, that he could exhibit heroism and headlong -courage, when necessary, he could afford to look with contempt upon the -witless gibes which his enemies had occasionally perpetrated at his -expense. Conscious of holding his armies in his hand, by the power of an -unrivalled discipline, and the magic of a name illustrated by a hundred -triumphs, he could bear with patience and benevolence the murmurs of his -soldiers when their battles were denied them. - -He was born in 1508, of a family which boasted imperial descent. A -Palæologus, brother of a Byzantine emperor, had conquered the city of -Toledo, and transmitted its appellation as a family name. The father of -Ferdinando, Don Garcia, had been slain on the Isle of Gerbes, in battle -with the Moors, when his son was but four years of age. The child was -brought up by his grandfather, Don Frederic, and trained from his -tenderest infancy to arms. Hatred to the infidel, and a determination to -avenge his father’s blood crying to him from a foreign grave, were the -earliest of his instincts. As a youth he was distinguished for his -prowess. His maiden sword was fleshed at Fontarabia, where, although but -sixteen years of age, he was considered by his constancy in hardship, by -his brilliant and desperate courage, and by the example of military -discipline which he afforded to the troops, to have contributed in no -small degree to the success of the Spanish arms. - -In 1530 he accompanied the emperor in his campaign against the Turks. -Charles, instinctively recognizing the merit of the youth who was -destined to be the life-long companion of his toils and glories, -distinguished him with his favor at the opening of his career. Young, -brave, and enthusiastic, Ferdinando de Toledo at this period was as -interesting a hero as ever illustrated the pages of Castilian romance. -His mad ride from Hungary to Spain and back again, accomplished in -seventeen days, for the sake of a brief visit to his newly-married wife, -is not the least attractive episode in the history of an existence which -was destined to be so dark and sanguinary. In 1535 he accompanied the -emperor on his memorable expedition to Tunis. In 1546 and 1547 he was -generalissimo in the war against the Smalcaldian league. His most -brilliant feat of arms--perhaps the most brilliant exploit of the -emperor’s reign--was the passage of the Elbe and the battle of Mühlberg, -accomplished in spite of Maximilian’s bitter and violent reproaches, and -the tremendous possibilities of a defeat. That battle had finished the -war. - -The gigantic and magnanimous John Frederic, surprised at his devotions -in the church, fled in dismay, leaving his boots behind him, which for -their superhuman size were ridiculously said afterward to be treasured -among the trophies of the Toledo house. The rout was total. “I came, I -saw, and God conquers,” said the emperor, in pious parody of his -immortal predecessor’s epigram. Maximilian, with a thousand apologies -for his previous insults, embraced the heroic Don Ferdinand over and -over again, as, arrayed in a plain suit of blue armor, unadorned save -with the streaks of his enemies’ blood, he returned from pursuit of the -fugitive. So complete and so sudden was the victory, that it was found -impossible to account for it save on the ground of miraculous -interposition. Like Joshua in the vale of Ajalon, Don Ferdinand was -supposed to have commanded the sun to stand still for a season, and to -have been obeyed. Otherwise, how could the passage of the river, which -was only concluded at six in the evening, and the complete overthrow of -the Protestant forces, have all been accomplished within the narrow -space of an April twilight? - -The reply of the duke to Henry II of France, who questioned him -subsequently upon the subject, is well known. “Your Majesty, I was too -much occupied that evening with what was taking place on the earth -beneath, to pay much heed to the evolutions of the heavenly bodies.” -Spared as he had been by his good fortune from taking any part in the -Algerine expedition, or in witnessing the ignominious retreat from -Innspruck, he was obliged to submit to the intercalation of the -disastrous siege of Metz in the long history of his successes. Doing the -duty of a field-marshal and a sentinel, supporting his army by his -firmness and his discipline when nothing else could have supported them, -he was at last enabled, after half the hundred thousand men with whom -Charles had begun the siege had been sacrificed, to induce his imperial -master to raise the siege before the remaining fifty thousand had been -frozen or starved to death. - -The culminating career of Alva seemed to have closed in the mist which -gathered around the setting star of the empire. Having accompanied -Philip to England in 1554, on his matrimonial expedition, he was -destined in the following year, as viceroy and generalissimo of Italy, -to be placed in a series of false positions. A great captain engaged in -a little war, the champion of the cross in arms against the successor -of St. Peter, he had extricated himself at last with his usual -adroitness, but with very little glory. To him had been allotted the -mortification, to another the triumph. The luster of his own name seemed -to sink in the ocean, while that of a hated rival, with new spangled -ore, suddenly “flamed in the forehead of the morning sky.” While he had -been paltering with a dotard, whom he was forbidden to crush, Egmont had -struck down the chosen troops of France and conquered her most -illustrious commanders. Here was the unpardonable crime which could only -be expiated by the blood of the victor. Unfortunately for his rival, the -time was now approaching when the long-deferred revenge was to be -satisfied. - -On the whole, the Duke of Alva was inferior to no general of his age. As -a disciplinarian, he was foremost in Spain, perhaps in Europe. A -spendthrift of time, he was an economist of blood, and this was, -perhaps, in the eyes of humanity, his principal virtue. “Time and myself -are two,” was a frequent observation of Philip, and his favorite general -considered the maxim as applicable to war as to politics. Such were his -qualities as a military commander. As a statesman, he had neither -experience nor talent. As a man, his character was simple. He did not -combine a great variety of vices, but those which he had were colossal, -and he possessed no virtues. He was neither lustful nor intemperate, but -his professed eulogists admitted his enormous avarice, while the world -has agreed that such an amount of stealth and ferocity, of patient -vindictiveness and universal bloodthirstiness, were never found in a -savage beast of the forest, and but rarely in a human bosom. His history -was now to show that his previous thrift of human life was not derived -from any love of his kind. Personally he was stern and overbearing. As -difficult of access as Philip himself, he was even more haughty to those -who were admitted to his presence. - -The duke’s military fame was unquestionable when he came to the -provinces, and both in stricken fields and in long campaigns he showed -how thoroughly it had been deserved; yet he left the Netherlands a -baffled man. The prince might be many times defeated, but he was not -conquered. As Alva penetrated into the heart of the ancient Batavian -land, he found himself overmatched as he had never been before, even by -the most potent generals of his day. More audacious, more inventive, -more desperate than all the commanders of that or any other age, the -spirit of national freedom now taught the oppressor that it was -invincible, except by annihilation. The same lesson had been read in the -same thickets by the Nervii to Julius Cæsar, by the Batavians to the -legions of Vespasian; and now a loftier and a purer flame than that -which inspired the national struggles against Rome glowed within the -breasts of the descendants of the same people, and inspired them with -the strength which comes from religious enthusiasm. - -As an administrator of the civil and judicial affairs of the country, -Alva at once reduced its institutions to a frightful simplicity. In the -place of the ancient laws of which the Netherlander were so proud, he -substituted the Blood Council. This tribunal was even more arbitrary -than the Inquisition. Never was a simpler apparatus for tyranny devised -than this great labor-saving machine. Never was so great a quantity of -murder and robbery achieved with such dispatch and regularity. -Sentences, executions, and confiscations, to an incredible extent, were -turned out daily with an appalling precision. For this invention Alva is -alone responsible. The tribunal and its councilors were the work and the -creatures of his hand, and faithfully did they accomplish the dark -purpose of their existence. Nor can it be urged, in extenuation of the -governor’s crimes, that he was but the blind and fanatically loyal slave -of his sovereign. - -A noble nature could not have contaminated itself with such -slaughter-house work, but might have sought to mitigate the royal -policy without forswearing allegiance. A nature less rigid than iron -would at least have manifested compunction, as it found itself converted -into a fleshless instrument of massacre. More decided than his master, -however, he seemed by his promptness to rebuke the dilatory genius of -Philip. The king seemed, at times, to loiter over his work, teasing and -tantalizing his appetite for vengeance before it should be gratified. -Alva, rapid and brutal, scorned such epicureanism. He strode with -gigantic steps over haughty statutes and popular constitutions; crushing -alike the magnates who claimed a bench of monarchs for their jury, and -the ignoble artisans who could appeal only to the laws of their land. -From the pompous and theatrical scaffolds of Egmont and Horn, to the -nineteen halters prepared by Master Karl to hang up the chief bakers and -brewers of Brussels on their own thresholds; from the beheading of the -twenty nobles on the horse-market, in the opening of the governor’s -career, to the roasting alive of Uitenhoove at its close; from the block -on which fell the honored head of Antony Straalen, to the obscure chair -in which the ancient gentlewoman of Amsterdam suffered death for an act -of vicarious mercy; from one year’s end to another’s--from the most -signal to the most squalid scenes of sacrifice, the eye and hand of the -great master directed without weariness the task imposed by the -sovereign. - - - - -QUEEN ELIZABETH. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [Daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, second queen-regnant of - England, born 1533, crowned 1558, died 1603. As princess during the - reign of her sister, Queen Mary, she was subjected to many perils - on account of her devotion to Protestantism. Shortly after her - accession to the throne she was declared illegitimate by the pope - and the Catholic kings of Europe, and a claim of the English - succession set up for Mary, Queen of Scots. Threatened on all - sides, Queen Elizabeth bore herself with consummate skill and - prudence, and even managed to make herself felt aggressively in - continental affairs. The more striking events of her reign were the - defeat of the great Spanish Armada, probably the most brilliant and - complete sea-victory recorded in history, and the execution of - Mary, Queen of Scots, her rival and captive. Queen Elizabeth’s - reign shines as probably the most remarkable known for its - intellectual flowering in every branch of human energy.] - - -England’s one hope lay in the character of her queen. Elizabeth was now -in her twenty-fifth year. Personally she had more than her mother’s -beauty; her figure was commanding, her face long but queenly and -intelligent, her eyes quick and fine. She had grown up amid the liberal -culture of Henry’s court a bold horsewoman, a good shot, a graceful -dancer, a skilled musician, and an accomplished scholar. She studied -every morning the Greek Testament, and followed this by the tragedies of -Sophocles or orations of Demosthenes, and could “rub up her rusty Greek” -at need to bandy pedantry with a vice-chancellor. But she was far from -being a mere pedant. The new literature which was springing up around -her found constant welcome in her court. She spoke Italian and French as -fluently as her mother-tongue. She was familiar with Ariosto and Tasso. -Even amid the affectation and love of anagrams and puerilities which -sullied her later years, she listened with delight to the “Faery Queen,” -and found a smile for “Master Spenser” when he appeared in her presence. -Her moral temper recalled in its strange contrasts the mixed blood -within her veins. - -She was at once the daughter of Henry and of Anne Boleyn. From her -father she inherited her frank and hearty address, her love of -popularity and of free intercourse with the people, her dauntless -courage, and her amazing self-confidence. Her harsh, manlike voice, her -impetuous will, her pride, her furious outbursts of anger, came to her -with her Tudor blood. She rated great nobles as if they were -school-boys; she met the insolence of Essex with a box on the ear; she -would break now and then into the gravest deliberations to swear at her -ministers like a fish-wife. But strangely in contrast with the violent -outlines of her Tudor temper stood the sensuous, self-indulgent nature -she derived from Anne Boleyn. Splendor and pleasure were with Elizabeth -the very air she breathed. Her delight was to move in perpetual -progresses from castle to castle through a series of gorgeous pageants, -fanciful and extravagant as a caliph’s dream. She loved gayety and -laughter and wit. A happy retort or a finished compliment never failed -to win her favor. She hoarded jewels. Her dresses were innumerable. Her -vanity remained, even to old age, the vanity of a coquette in her teens. -No adulation was too fulsome for her, no flattery of her beauty too -gross. “To see her was heaven,” Hatton told her, “the lack of her was -hell.” She would play with her rings that her courtiers might note the -delicacy of her hands; or dance a coranto that the French ambassador, -hidden dexterously behind a curtain, might report her sprightliness to -his master. Her levity, her frivolous laughter, her unwomanly jests, -gave color to a thousand scandals. Her character, in fact, like her -portraits, was utterly without shade. Of womanly reserve or -self-restraint she knew nothing. No instinct of delicacy veiled the -voluptuous temper which had broken out in the romps of her girlhood and -showed itself almost ostentatiously throughout her later life. Personal -beauty in a man was a sure passport to her liking. She patted handsome -young squires on the neck when they knelt to kiss her hand, and fondled -her “sweet Robin,” Lord Leicester, in the face of the court. - -It was no wonder that the statesmen whom she outwitted held Elizabeth -almost to the last to be little more than a frivolous woman, or that -Philip of Spain wondered how “a wanton” could hold in check the policy -of the Escurial. But the Elizabeth whom they saw was far from being all -of Elizabeth. The willfulness of Henry, the triviality of Anne Boleyn, -played over the surface of a nature hard as steel, a temper purely -intellectual, the very type of reason untouched by imagination or -passion. Luxurious and pleasure-loving as she seemed, Elizabeth lived -simply and frugally, and she worked hard. Her vanity and caprice had no -weight whatever with her in state affairs. The coquette of the -presence-chamber became the coolest and hardest of politicians at the -council-board. Fresh from the flattery of her courtiers, she would -tolerate no flattery in the closet; she was herself plain and downright -of speech with her counselors, and she looked for a corresponding -plainness of speech in return. If any trace of her sex lingered in her -actual statesmanship, it was seen in the simplicity and tenacity of -purpose that often underlies a woman’s fluctuations of feeling. - -It was this, in part, which gave her her marked superiority over the -statesmen of her time. No nobler group of ministers ever gathered round -a council-board than those who gathered round the council-board of -Elizabeth. But she was the instrument of none. She listened, she -weighed, she used or put by the counsels of each in turn, but her policy -as a whole was her own. It was a policy not of genius but of good sense. -Her aims were simple and obvious: to preserve her throne, to keep -England out of war, to restore civil and religious order. Something of -womanly caution and timidity, perhaps, backed the passionless -indifference with which she set aside the larger schemes of ambition -which were ever opening before her eyes. She was resolute in her refusal -of the Low Countries. She rejected with a laugh the offers of the -Protestants to make her “head of the religion” and “mistress of the -seas.” But her amazing success in the end sprang mainly from this wise -limitation of her aims. She had a finer sense than any of her counselors -of her real resources; she knew instinctively how far she could go and -what she could do. Her cold, critical intellect was never swayed by -enthusiasm or by panic either to exaggerate or to underestimate her -risks or her power. - -Of political wisdom, indeed, in its larger and more generous sense -Elizabeth had little or none; but her political tact was unerring. She -seldom saw her course at a glance, but she played with a hundred -courses, fitfully and discursively, as a musician runs his fingers over -the key-board, till she hit suddenly upon the right one. Her nature was -essentially practical and of the present. She distrusted a plan, in -fact, just in proportion to its speculative range or its outlook into -the future. Her notion of statesmanship lay in watching how things -turned out around her, and in seizing the moment for making the best of -them. A policy of this limited, practical, tentative order was not only -best suited to the England of her day, to its small resources and the -transitional character of its religious and political belief, but it was -one eminently suited to Elizabeth’s peculiar powers. It was a policy of -detail, and in details her wonderful readiness and ingenuity found scope -for their exercise. “No war, my lords,” the queen used to cry -imperiously at the council-board, “No war!” but her hatred of war sprang -less from her aversion to blood or to expense, real as was her aversion -to both, than from the fact that peace left the field open to the -diplomatic manœuvres and intrigues in which she excelled. Her delight in -the consciousness of her ingenuity broke out in a thousand puckish -freaks--freaks in which one can hardly see any purpose beyond the -purpose of sheer mystification. She reveled in “by-ways” and “crooked -ways.” She played with grave cabinets as a cat plays with a mouse, and -with much of the same feline delight in the mere embarrassment of her -victims. When she was weary of mystifying foreign statesmen, she turned -to find fresh sport in mystifying her own ministers. - -Had Elizabeth written the story of her reign, she would have prided -herself not on the triumph of England or the ruin of Spain, but on the -skill with which she had hoodwinked and outwitted every statesman in -Europe during fifty years. Nor was her trickery without political value. -Ignoble, inexpressibly wearisome as the queen’s diplomacy seems to us -now, tracing it as we do through a thousand dispatches, it succeeded in -its main end. It gained time, and every year that was gained doubled -Elizabeth’s strength. Nothing is more revolting in the queen, but -nothing is more characteristic than her shameless mendacity. It was an -age of political lying, but in the profusion and recklessness of her -lies Elizabeth stood without a peer in Christendom. A falsehood was to -her simply an intellectual means of meeting a difficulty; and the ease -with which she asserted or denied whatever suited her purpose, was only -equaled by the cynical indifference with which she met the exposure of -her lies as soon as their purpose was answered. The same purely -intellectual view of things showed itself in the dexterous use she made -of her very faults. Her levity carried her gayly over moments of -detection and embarrassment where better women would have died of shame. -She screened her tentative and hesitating statesmanship under the -natural timidity and vacillation of her sex. She turned her very luxury -and sports to good account. There were moments of grave danger in her -reign, when the country remained indifferent to its perils, as it saw -the queen give her days to hawking and hunting and her nights to dancing -and plays. Her vanity and affectation, her womanly fickleness and -caprice, all had their part in the diplomatic comedies she played with -the successive candidates for her hand. If political necessities made -her life a lonely one, she had at any rate the satisfaction of averting -war and conspiracies by love-sonnets and romantic interviews, or of -gaining a year of tranquillity by the dexterous spinning out of a -flirtation. - -As we track Elizabeth through her tortuous mazes of lying and intrigue, -the sense of her greatness is almost lost in a sense of contempt. But, -wrapped as they were in a cloud of mystery, the aims of her policy were -throughout temperate and simple, and they were pursued with a singular -tenacity. The sudden acts of energy which from time to time broke her -habitual hesitation proved that it was no hesitation of weakness. -Elizabeth could wait and finesse; but when the hour was come she could -strike, and strike hard. Her natural temper indeed tended to a rash -self-confidence rather than to self-distrust. She had, as strong natures -always have, an unbounded confidence in her luck. “Her Majesty counts -much on Fortune,” Walsingham wrote bitterly; “I wish she would trust -more in Almighty God.” The diplomatists who censured at one moment her -irresolution, her delay, her changes of front, censure at the next her -“obstinacy,” her iron will, her defiance of what seemed to them -inevitable ruin. “This woman,” Philip’s envoy wrote after a wasted -remonstrance, “this woman is possessed by a hundred thousand devils.” - -To her own subjects, indeed, who knew nothing of her manœuvres and -retreats, of her “by-ways” and “crooked ways,” she seemed the embodiment -of dauntless resolution. Brave as they were, the men who swept the -Spanish main or glided between the icebergs of Baffin Bay never doubted -that the palm of bravery lay with their queen. Her steadiness and -courage in the pursuit of her aims was equaled by the wisdom with which -she chose the men to accomplish them. She had a quick eye for merit of -any sort, and a wonderful power of enlisting its whole energy in her -service. The sagacity which chose Cecil and Walsingham was just as -unerring in its choice of the meanest of her agents. Her success, -indeed, in securing from the beginning of her reign to its end, with the -single exception of Leicester, precisely the right men for the work she -set them to do, sprang in great measure from the noblest characteristic -of her intellect. If in loftiness of aim her temper fell below many of -the tempers of her time, in the breadth of its range, in the -universality of its sympathy, it stood far above them all. Elizabeth -could talk poetry with Spenser and philosophy with Bruno; she could -discuss euphuism with Lyly, and enjoy the chivalry of Essex; she could -turn from talk of the last fashions to pore with Cecil over dispatches -and treasury books; she could pass from tracking traitors with -Walsingham to settle points of doctrine with Parker, or to calculate -with Frobisher the chances of a northwest passage to the Indies. The -versatility and many-sidedness of her mind enabled her to understand -every phase of the intellectual movement of her day, and to fix by a -sort of instinct on its higher representatives. But the greatness of the -queen rests above all on her power over her people. - -We have had grander and nobler rulers, but none so popular as Elizabeth. -The passion of love, of loyalty, of admiration, which finds its most -perfect expression in the “Faery Queen,” throbbed as intensely through -the veins of her meanest subjects. To England, during her reign of half -a century, she was a virgin and a Protestant queen; and her immorality, -her absolute want of religious enthusiasm, failed utterly to blur the -brightness of the national idea. Her worst acts broke fruitlessly -against the general devotion. A Puritan, whose hand she cut off in a -freak of tyrannous resentment, waved his hat with the hand that was -left, and shouted, “God save Queen Elizabeth!” Of her faults, indeed, -England beyond the circle of her court knew little or nothing. The -shiftings of her diplomacy were never seen outside the royal closet. The -nation at large could only judge her foreign policy by its main -outlines, by its temperance and good sense, and above all by its -success. But every Englishman was able to judge Elizabeth in her rule at -home, in her love of peace, her instinct of order, the firmness and -moderation of her government, the judicious spirit of conciliation and -compromise among warring factions, which gave the country an unexampled -tranquillity at a time when almost every other country in Europe was -torn with civil war. Every sign of the growing prosperity, the sight of -London as it became the mart of the world, of stately mansions as they -rose on every manor, told, and justly told, in Elizabeth’s favor. - -In one act of her civil administration she showed the boldness and -originality of a great ruler; for the opening of her reign saw her face -the social difficulty which had so long impeded English progress, by the -issue of a commission of inquiry which ended in the solution of the -problem by the system of poor-laws. She lent a ready patronage to the -new commerce; she considered its extension and protection as a part of -public policy, and her statue in the center of the London Exchange was a -tribute on the part of the merchant class to the interest with which she -watched and shared personally in its enterprises. Her thrift won a -general gratitude. The memories of the Terror and of the martyrs threw -into bright relief the aversion from bloodshed which was conspicuous in -her earlier reign, and never wholly wanting through its fiercer close. -Above all, there was a general confidence in her instinctive knowledge -of the national temper. Her finger was always on the public pulse. She -knew exactly when she could resist the feeling of her people, and when -she must give way before the new sentiment of freedom which her policy -unconsciously fostered. But when she retreated, her defeat had all the -grace of victory; and the frankness and unreserve of her surrender won -back at once the love that her resistance had lost. Her attitude at -home, in fact, was that of a woman whose pride in the well-being of her -subjects, and whose longing for their favor, was the one warm touch in -the coldness of her natural temper. If Elizabeth could be said to love -anything, she loved England. “Nothing,” she said to her first Parliament -in words of unwonted fire, “nothing, no worldly thing under the sun, is -so dear to me as the love and good-will of my subjects.” And the love -and good-will which were so dear to her she fully won. - -She clung, perhaps, to her popularity the more passionately that it hid -in some measure from her the terrible loneliness of her life. She was -the last of the Tudors, the last of Henry’s children; and her nearest -relatives were Mary Stuart and the house of Suffolk, one the avowed, the -other the secret, claimant of her throne. Among her mother’s kindred she -found but a single cousin. Whatever womanly tenderness she had, wrapped -itself around Leicester; but a marriage with Leicester was impossible, -and every other union, could she even have bent to one, was denied to -her by the political difficulties of her position. The one cry of -bitterness which burst from Elizabeth revealed her terrible sense of the -solitude of her life. “The Queen of Scots,” she cried at the birth of -James, “has a fair son, and I am but a barren stock.” But the loneliness -of her position only reflected the loneliness of her nature. She stood -utterly apart from the world around her, sometimes above it, sometimes -below it, but never of it. It was only on its intellectual side that -Elizabeth touched the England of her day. All its moral aspects were -simply dead to her. - -It was a time when men were being lifted into nobleness by the new moral -energy which seemed suddenly to pulse through the whole people, when -honor and enthusiasm took colors of poetic beauty, and religion became a -chivalry. But the finer sentiments of the men around her touched -Elizabeth simply as the fair tints of a picture would have touched her. -She made her market with equal indifference out of the heroism of -William of Orange or the bigotry of Philip. The noblest aims and lives -were only counters on her board. She was the one soul in her realm whom -the news of St. Bartholomew stirred to no thirst for vengeance; and -while England was thrilling with its triumph over the Armada, its queen -was coolly grumbling over the cost, and making her profit out of the -spoiled provisions she had ordered for the fleet that saved her. To the -voice of gratitude, indeed, she was for the most part deaf. She accepted -services such as were never rendered to any other English sovereign -without a thought of return. Walsingham spent his fortune in saving her -life and throne, and she left him to die a beggar. - -But, as if by a strange irony, it was to this very want of sympathy that -she owed some of the grander features of her character. If she was -without love, she was without hate. She cherished no petty resentments; -she never stooped to envy or suspicion of the men who served her. She -was indifferent to abuse. Her good-humor was never ruffled by the -charges of wantonness and cruelty with which the Jesuits filled every -court in Europe. She was insensible to fear. Her life became at last the -mark for assassin after assassin, but the thought of peril was the one -hardest to bring home to her. Even when the Catholic plots broke out in -her very household, she would listen to no proposals for the removal of -Catholics from her court. - - - - -MARY STUART, QUEEN OF SCOTS. - -BY DAVID HUME. - - [Daughter of James V of Scotland and Mary of Lorraine, a princess - of the Guise family of France, born 1542, died 1587. As - great-granddaughter of Henry VII of England, Mary was heir to the - English throne after the failure of direct descendants of Henry - VIII, the last of whom was Queen Elizabeth. At the age of sixteen - she was married to the dauphin of France; and, as she was put - forward as claimant of the English throne (even as against - Elizabeth, whom the Catholic powers of Europe affected to treat as - the illegitimate daughter of Henry VIII), the arms of England were - quartered with those of France and Scotland on her escutcheon. - Mary’s persistence in protruding this claim, under advice of her - Catholic friends, was a main cause of the misfortunes of her sad - and romantic career. On the death of Mary’s husband, Francis II of - France, she returned to Scotland to resume the functions of - government, thoroughly imbued with Catholic and French notions of - policy, and already antagonistic to a large portion of her - subjects, who had become fanatically Protestant under the - leadership of such men as John Knox. Henceforward the Queen of - Scots was embarked on a sea of troubles, which are familiar - history. She married Lord Darnley in 1565, against the wish of her - own Protestant subjects and of Queen Elizabeth; and on the murder - of Darnley by the Earl of Bothwell, she consummated her follies by - espousing the latter. The rebellion which ensued resulted first in - her imprisonment by her own subjects, and afterward, consequent on - her escape and defeat in battle by the Protestant lords, her - confinement by the Queen of England, on whom she had thrown herself - for protection. For nineteen years Mary was the inmate of - successive English prisons, though not rigorously treated - otherwise. The numerous conspiracies in which she was implicated by - the enthusiasm of her supporters in England and France, some of - which involved the assassination of Elizabeth, and all of which - looked to the complete overthrow of Protestantism, at last caused - her trial and condemnation by an English commission. The signature - to the death-warrant has been claimed by some historians to have - been a forgery; by others to have been genuine, but its commission - under the great seal an act without Elizabeth’s consent. But the - weight of evidence shows Elizabeth’s conduct to have been a piece - of consummate duplicity, and that she manœuvred to receive the - benefits of Mary’s death without incurring the odium of its - authority. There is no personage in history whose character has - been the subject of more controversy. A school of English - historical critics, among whom are Carlyle, Froude, and Kingsley, - stigmatize her as the incarnation of all that was brilliantly - wicked; while others, equally distinguished, soften her errors and - eulogize her virtues as the victim of circumstances, and one “far - more sinned against than sinning.”] - - -Her change of abode and situation was very little agreeable to the -Scottish princess. Besides her natural preposessions in favor of a -country in which she had been educated from her earliest infancy, and -where she had borne so high a rank, she could not forbear both -regretting the society of that people, so celebrated for their humane -disposition and their respectful attachment to their sovereign, and -reflecting on the disparity of the scene which lay before her. It is -said that, after she was embarked at Calais, she kept her eyes fixed on -the coast of France, and never turned them from that beloved object till -darkness fell and intercepted it from her view. She then ordered a couch -to be spread for her in the open air, and charged the pilot that if in -the morning the land were still in sight, he should awake her, and -afford her one parting view of that country in which all her affections -were centered. The weather proved calm, so that the ship made little way -in the night-time, and Mary had once more an opportunity of seeing the -French coast. She sat up on her couch, and, still looking toward the -land, often repeated these words: “Farewell, France, farewell; I shall -never see thee more.” - -The first aspect, however, of things in Scotland was more favorable, if -not to her pleasure and happiness, at least to her repose and security, -than she had reason to apprehend. No sooner did the French galleys -appear off Leith, than people of all ranks, who had long expected their -arrival, flocked toward the shore with an earnest impatience to behold -and receive their young sovereign. Some were led by duty, some by -interest, some by curiosity; and all combined to express their -attachment to her, and to insinuate themselves into her confidence on -the commencement of her administration. She had now reached her -nineteenth year, and the bloom of her youth and amiable beauty of her -person were further recommended by the affability of her address, the -politeness of her manners, and the elegance of her genius. Well -accomplished in all the superficial but engaging graces of a court, she -afforded, when better known, still more promising indications of her -character; and men prognosticated both humanity from her soft and -obliging deportment, and penetration from her taste in all the refined -arts of music, eloquence, and poetry. And as the Scots had long been -deprived of the presence of their sovereign, whom they once despaired -ever more to behold among them, her arrival seemed to give universal -satisfaction; and nothing appeared about the court but symptoms of -affection, joy, and festivity. - -But there was one circumstance which blasted all these promising -appearances, and bereaved Mary of that general favor which her -agreeable manners and judicious deportment gave her just reason to -expect. She was still a papist; and though she published, soon after her -arrival, a proclamation enjoining every one to submit to the established -religion, the preachers and their adherents could neither be reconciled -to a person polluted with so great an abomination, nor lay aside their -jealousies of her future conduct. It was with great difficulty she could -obtain permission for saying mass in her own chapel; and had not the -people apprehended that, if she had here met with a refusal, she would -instantly have returned to France, the zealots never would have granted -her even that small indulgence. The cry was, “Shall we suffer that idol -to be again erected within the realm?” - -The whole life of Mary was, from the demeanor of these men, filled with -bitterness and sorrow. The rustic apostle John Knox scruples not, in his -history, to inform us that he once treated her with such severity that -she lost all command of temper, and dissolved in tears before him; yet, -so far from being moved with youth and beauty, and royal dignity reduced -to that condition, he persevered in his insolent reproofs; and when he -relates this incident, he discovers a visible pride and satisfaction in -his own conduct. The pulpits had become mere scenes of railing against -the vices of the court; among which were always noted, as the principal, -feasting, finery, dancing, balls, and whoredom, their necessary -attendant. Some ornaments which the ladies at that time wore upon their -petticoats, excited mightily the indignation of the preachers; and they -affirmed that such vanity would provoke God’s vengeance, not only -against these foolish women but against the whole realm. - -Mary, whose age, condition, and education invited her to liberty and -cheerfulness, was curbed in all amusements by the absurd severity of -these reformers; and she found, every moment, reason to regret her -leaving that country from whose manners she had, in her early youth, -received the first impressions. Her two uncles, the Duke of Aumale and -the Grand Prior, with the other French nobility, soon took leave of her; -the Marquis of Elbeuf remained some time longer; but after his departure -she was left to the society of her own subjects--men unacquainted with -the pleasures of conversation, ignorant of arts and civility, and -corrupted beyond their usual rusticity by a dismal fanaticism, which -rendered them incapable of all humanity or improvement. Though Mary had -made no attempt to restore the ancient religion, her popery was a -sufficient crime; though her behavior was hitherto irreproachable, and -her manners sweet and engaging, her gayety and ease were interpreted as -signs of dissolute vanity; and to the harsh and preposterous usage which -this princess met with may in part be ascribed those errors of her -subsequent conduct, which seemed so little of a piece with the general -tenor of her character. - -Mary was a woman of great accomplishments both of body and mind, natural -as well as acquired, but unfortunate in her life, and during one period -very unhappy in her conduct. The beauties of her person and graces of -her air combined to make her the most amiable of women; and the charms -of her address and conversation aided the impression which her lovely -figure made on the hearts of all beholders. Ambitious and active in her -temper, yet inclined to cheerfulness and society; of a lofty spirit, -constant and even vehement in her purpose, yet polite, and gentle, and -affable in her demeanor, she seemed to partake only so much of the male -virtues as to render her estimable, without relinquishing those soft -graces which compose the proper ornament of her sex. - -In order to form a just idea of her character, we must set aside one -part of her conduct, while she abandoned herself to the guidance of a -profligate man, and must consider these faults, whether we admit them to -be imprudences or crimes, as the result of an inexplicable though not -uncommon inconstancy in the human mind, of the frailty of our nature, of -the violence of passion, and of the influence which situations, and -sometimes momentary incidents, have on persons whose principles are not -thoroughly confirmed by experience and reflection. Enraged by the -ungrateful conduct of her husband, seduced by the treacherous counsels -of one in whom she reposed confidence, transported by the violence of -her own temper, which never lay sufficiently under the guidance of -discretion, she was betrayed into actions which may with some difficulty -be accounted for, but which admit of no apology, nor even of -alleviation. An enumeration of her qualities might carry the appearance -of a panegyric; an account of her conduct must in some parts wear the -aspect of severe satire and invective. - -Her numerous misfortunes, the solitude of her long and tedious -captivity, and the persecutions to which she had been exposed on account -of her religion, had wrought her up to a degree of bigotry during her -later years; and such were the prevalent spirit and principles of the -age, that it is the less wonder if her zeal, her resentment, and her -interest uniting, induced her to give consent to a design which -conspirators, actuated only by the first of these motives, had formed -against the life of Elizabeth. - - - - -JOHN PYM. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [Born 1584, died in 1643. Leader of the House of Commons in its - contest with Charles I, he was the most able and indefatigable - opponent of royal usurpation, and the most active agent in the - impeachment of the Earl of Strafford. From a pamphlet written just - before his death, when war in the field had begun between king and - people, it seems doubtful whether he would not in the end have - resisted the usurpation of power by Cromwell and the Independents, - and supported the king as the least of two evils.] - - -If Strafford embodied the spirit of tyranny, John Pym, the leader of the -Commons from the first meeting of the new houses at Westminster, stands -out for all after time as the embodiment of law. A Somersetshire -gentleman of good birth and competent fortune, he entered on public life -in the Parliament of 1614, and was imprisoned for his patriotism at its -close. He had been a leading member in that of 1620, and one of the -“twelve ambassadors” for whom James ordered chairs to be set at -Whitehall. Of the band of patriots with whom he had stood side by side -in the constitutional struggle against the earlier despotism of Charles -he was almost the sole survivor. Coke had died of old age; Cotton’s -heart was broken by oppression; Eliot had perished in the tower; -Wentworth had apostatized. Pym alone remained, resolute, patient as of -old; and as the sense of his greatness grew silently during the eleven -years of deepening misrule, the hope and faith of better things clung -almost passionately to the man, who never doubted of the final triumph -of freedom and the law. At their close, Clarendon tells us, in words all -the more notable for their bitter tone of hate, “he was the most popular -man, and the most able to do hurt, that has lived at any time.” - -He had shown he knew how to wait, and when waiting was over he showed he -knew how to act. On the eve of the Long Parliament he rode through -England to quicken the electors to a sense of the crisis which had come -at last; and on the assembling of the Commons, he took his place not -merely as member for Tavistock but as their acknowledged head. Few of -the country gentlemen, indeed, who formed the bulk of the members, had -sat in any previous House; and of the few, none represented in so -eminent a way the parliamentary tradition on which the coming struggle -was to turn. Pym’s eloquence, inferior in boldness and originality to -that of Eliot or Wentworth, was better suited by its massive and -logical force to convince and guide a great party; and it was backed by -a calmness of temper, a dexterity and order in the management of public -business, and a practical power of shaping the course of debate, which -gave a form and method to parliamentary proceedings such as they had -never had before. Valuable, however, as these qualities were, it was a -yet higher quality which raised Pym into the greatest, as he was the -first, of parliamentary leaders. - -Of the five hundred members who sat round him at St. Stephen’s, he was -the one man who had clearly foreseen, and as clearly resolved how to -meet, the difficulties which lay before them. It was certain that -Parliament would be drawn into a struggle with the Crown. It was -probable that in such a struggle the House of Commons would be hampered, -as it had been hampered before, by the House of Lords. The legal -antiquaries of the older constitutional school stood helpless before -such a conflict of co-ordinate powers--a conflict for which no provision -had been made by the law, and on which precedents threw only a doubtful -and conflicting light. But, with a knowledge of precedent as great as -their own, Pym rose high above them in his grasp of constitutional -principles. He was the first English statesman who discovered, and -applied to the political circumstances around him, what may be called -the doctrine of constitutional proportion. He saw that, as an element of -constitutional life, Parliament was of higher value than the Crown; he -saw, too, that in Parliament itself the one essential part was the House -of Commons. On these two facts he based his whole policy in the contest -which followed. - -When Charles refused to act with the Parliament, Pym treated the refusal -as a temporary abdication on the part of the sovereign, which vested the -executive power in the two Houses until new arrangements were made. When -the Lords obstructed public business, he warned them that obstruction -would only force the Commons “to save the kingdom alone.” Revolutionary -as these principles seemed at the time, they have both been recognized -as bases of our constitution since the days of Pym. The first principle -was established by the Convention and Parliament which followed on the -departure of James II; the second by the acknowledgement on all sides, -since the Reform Bill of 1832, that the government of the country is -really in the hands of the House of Commons, and can only be carried on -by ministers who represent the majority of that House. Pym’s temper, -indeed, was the very opposite of the temper of a revolutionist. Few -natures have ever been wider in their range of sympathy or action. - -Serious as his purpose was, his manners were genial, and even courtly; -he turned easily from an invective against Strafford to a chat with Lady -Carlisle; and the grace and gayety of his social tone, even when the -care and weight of public affairs were bringing him to the grave, gave -rise to a hundred silly scandals among the prurient royalists. It was -this striking combination of genial versatility with a massive force in -his nature which marked him out from the first moment of power as a born -ruler of men. He proved himself at once the subtlest of diplomatists and -the grandest of demagogues. He was equally at home in tracking the -subtle intricacies of royalist intrigues, or in kindling popular passion -with words of fire. Though past middle life when his work really -began--for he was born in 1584, four years before the coming of the -Armada--he displayed from the first meeting of the Long Parliament the -qualities of a great administrator, an immense faculty for labor, a -genius for organization, patience, tact, a power of inspiring confidence -in all whom he touched, calmness and moderation under good fortune or -ill, an immovable courage, an iron will. No English ruler has ever shown -greater nobleness of natural temper or a wider capacity for government -than the Somersetshire squire, whom his enemies, made clear-sighted by -their hate, greeted truly enough as “King Pym.” - - - - -HENRY IV, KING OF FRANCE. - -BY JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY. - - [First French king of the Bourbon family, born king of Navarre - 1553, assassinated 1610. Educated a Huguenot, he, as representing - this religious party, was married to Marguerite de Valois, the - sister of Charles IX, to signalize the pretended reconciliation of - religious differences, a few days before the massacre of St. - Bartholomew. For four years he was detained at the French court and - compelled to abjure his faith, till he succeeded in escaping and - putting himself at the head of the Protestant forces. After a life - of remarkable vicissitudes, Henry of Navarre became _de jure_ king - of France as the next of surviving blood after Henry III, but was - not crowned till 1794, at which time he, for political reasons, - again and finally abjured Protestantism. Paris, and shortly - afterward the whole of France, then submitted to his rule. During - his reign of sixteen years Henry showed the highest qualities of - the great ruler, and his genius promised to make him as powerful a - potentate as Charles V had been, when he fell by the knife of the - assassin Ravaillac.] - - -At his very name a figure seems to leap forth from the mist of three -centuries, instinct with ruddy, vigorous life. Such was the intense -vitality of the Bearnese prince, that even now he seems more thoroughly -alive and recognizable than half the actual personages who are fretting -their hour upon the stage. - -We see at once a man of moderate stature, light, sinewy, and strong; a -face browned with continual exposure; small, mirthful, yet commanding -blue eyes, glittering from beneath an arching brow, and prominent -cheek-bones; a long, hawk’s nose, almost resting upon a salient chin; a -pendent mustache, and a thick, brown, curly beard, prematurely grizzled; -we see the mien of frank authority and magnificent good-humor; we hear -the ready sallies of the shrewd Gascon mother-wit; we feel the -electricity which flashes out of him and sets all hearts around him on -fire, when the trumpet sounds to battle. The headlong, desperate -charge, the snow-white plume waving where the fire is hottest, the large -capacity for enjoyment of the man, rioting without affectation in the -_certaminis gaudia_, the insane gallop, after the combat, to lay its -trophies at the feet of the Cynthia of the minute, and thus to forfeit -its fruits--all are as familiar to us as if the seven distinct wars, the -hundred pitched battles, the two hundred sieges, in which the Bearnese -was personally present, had been occurrences of our own day. - -He at last was both king and man, if the monarch who occupied the throne -was neither. He was the man to prove, too, for the instruction of the -patient letter-writer of the Escorial,[24] that the crown of France was -to be won with foot in stirrup and carbine in hand, rather than to be -caught by the weaving and casting of the most intricate nets of -diplomatic intrigue, though thoroughly weighted with Mexican gold. - -The king of Navarre was now thirty-one years old; for the three Henrys -were nearly of the same age. The first indications of his existence had -been recognized amid the cannon and trumpets of a camp in Picardy, and -his mother had sung a gay Bearnese song as he was coming into the world -at Pau. “Thus,” said his grandfather, Henry of Navarre, “thou shalt not -bear to us a morose and sulky child.” The good king without a kingdom, -taking the child as soon as born in the lappel of his dressing-gown, had -brushed his infant lips with a clove of garlic and moistened them with a -drop of generous Gascon wine. “Thus,” said the grandfather again, “shall -the boy be both merry and bold.” There was something mythologically -prophetic in the incidents of his birth. - -The best part of Navarre had been long since appropriated by Ferdinand -of Aragon. In France there reigned a young and warlike sovereign with -four healthy boys. But the newborn infant had inherited the lilies of -France from St. Louis, and a later ancestor had added to the escutcheon -the motto “_Espoir_.” His grandfather believed that the boy was born to -revenge upon Spain the wrongs of the house of Albret, and Henry’s nature -seemed ever pervaded with Robert of Clermont’s device. - -The same sensible grandfather, having different views on the subject of -education from those manifested by Catharine de Medici toward her -children, had the boy taught to run about bareheaded and barefooted, -like a peasant, among the mountains and rocks of Béarn, till he became -as rugged as a young bear and as nimble as a kid. Black bread and beef -and garlic were his simple fare; and he was taught by his mother and his -grandfather to hate lies and liars, and to read the Bible. - -When he was fifteen, the third religious war broke out. Both his father -and grandfather were dead. His mother, who had openly professed the -Reformed faith since the death of her husband, who hated it, brought her -boy to the camp at Rochelle, where he was received as the chief of the -Huguenots. His culture was not extensive. He had learned to speak the -truth, to ride, to shoot, to do with little sleep and less food. He -could also construe a little Latin, and had read a few military -treatises; but the mighty hours of an eventful life were now to take him -by the hand and to teach him much good and much evil, as they bore him -onward. He now saw military treatises expounded practically by -professors like his uncle Condé, and Admiral Coligny, and Lewis Nassau -in such lecture rooms as Laudun, and Jarnac, and Moncontour, and never -was apter scholar. - -The peace of Arnay-le-Duc succeeded, and then the fatal Bartholomew -marriage with the Messalina of Valois. The faith taught in the mountains -of Béarn was no buckler against the demand of “The mass, or death!” -thundered at his breast by the lunatic Charles, as he pointed to -thousands of massacred Huguenots. Henry yielded to such conclusive -arguments, and became a Catholic. Four years of court-imprisonment -succeeded, and the young king of Navarre, though proof to the artifices -of his gossip Guise, was not adamant to the temptations spread for him -by Catharine de Medici. In the harem entertained for him in the Louvre, -many pitfalls entrapped him, and he became a stock-performer in the -state comedies and tragedies of that plotting age. - -A silken web of palace-politics, palace-diplomacy, palace-revolutions -enveloped him. Schemes and counter-schemes, stratagems and conspiracies, -assassinations and poisonings; all the state machinery which worked so -exquisitely in fair ladies’ chambers, to spread havoc and desolation -over a kingdom, were displayed before his eyes. Now campaigning with one -royal brother against Huguenots, now fighting with another on their -side, now solicited by the queen-mother to attempt the life of her son, -now implored by Henry III to assassinate his brother, the Bearnese, as -fresh antagonisms, affinities, combinations, were developed, detected, -neutralized almost daily, became rapidly an adept in Medician -state-chemistry. Charles IX in his grave, Henry III on the throne, -Alençon in the Huguenot camp--Henry at last made his escape. The brief -war and peace of Mercœur succeeded, and the king of Navarre formally -abjured the Catholic creed. The parties were now sharply defined. Guise -mounted upon the League, Henry astride upon the Reformation, were -prepared to do battle to the death. The temporary “war of the amorous” -was followed by the peace of Fleix. - -Four years of peace again--four fat years of wantonness and riot -preceding fourteen hungry, famine-stricken years of bloodiest civil war. -The voluptuousness and infamy of the Louvre were almost paralleled in -vice, if not in splendor, by the miniature court at Pau. Henry’s Spartan -grandfather would scarcely have approved the courses of the youth whose -education he had commenced on so simple a scale. For Margaret of -Valois, hating her husband, and living in most undisguised and -promiscuous infidelity to him, had profited by her mother’s lessons. A -seraglio of maids of honor ministered to Henry’s pleasures, and were -carefully instructed that the peace and war of the kingdom were -playthings in their hands. While at Paris royalty was hopelessly sinking -in a poisonous marsh, there was danger that even the hardy nature of the -Bearnese would be mortally enervated by the atmosphere in which he -lived. - -The unhappy Henry III, baited by the Guises, worried by the Alençon and -his mother, implored the king of Navarre to return to Paris and the -Catholic faith. M. de Segur, chief of Navarre’s council, who had been -won over during a visit to the capital, where he had made the discovery -that “Henry III was an angel, and his ministers devils,” came back to -Pau, urging his master’s acceptance of the royal invitation. Henry -wavered. Bold D’Aubigné, stanchest of Huguenots and of his friends, next -day privately showed Segur a palace window opening on a very steep -precipice over the Bayse, and cheerfully assured him that he should be -flung from it did he not instantly reverse his proceedings and give his -master different advice. “If I am not able to do the deed myself,” said -D’Aubigné, “here are a dozen more to help me.” The chief of the council -cast a glance behind him, saw a number of grim Puritan soldiers, with -their hats plucked down upon their brows, looking very serious; so made -his bow, and quite changed his line of conduct. - -But Henry--no longer the unsophisticated youth who had been used to run -barefoot among the cliffs of Coarraze--was grown too crafty a politician -to be entangled by Spanish or Medician wiles. The duke of Anjou was now -dead. Of all the princes who had stood between him and the throne, there -was none remaining save the helpless, childless, superannuated youth who -was its present occupant. The king of Navarre was legitimate heir to -the crown of France. “_Espoir_” was now in letters of light upon his -shield, but he knew that his path to greatness led through manifold -dangers, and that it was only at the head of his Huguenot chivalry that -he could cut his way. He was the leader of the nobles of Gascony, and -Dauphiny, and Guienne, in their mountain fastnesses; of the weavers, -cutlers, and artisans in their thriving manufacturing and trading towns. -It was not Spanish gold, but carbines and cutlasses, bows and bills, -which could bring him to the throne of his ancestors. - -And thus he stood the chieftain of that great, austere party of -Huguenots, the men who went on their knees before the battle, beating -their breasts with their iron gantlets, and singing in full chorus a -psalm of David before smiting the Philistines hip and thigh. - -Their chieftain, scarcely their representative--fit to lead his Puritans -on the battle-field--was hardly a model for them elsewhere. Yet, though -profligate in one respect, he was temperate in every other. In food, -wine, and sleep, he was always moderate. Subtle and crafty in -self-defence, he retained something of his old love of truth, of his -hatred for liars. Hardly generous, perhaps, he was a friend of justice; -while economy in a wandering king like himself was a necessary virtue, -of which France one day was to feel the beneficent action. Reckless and -headlong in appearance, he was in truth the most careful of men. On the -religious question most cautious of all, he always left the door open -behind him, disclaimed all bigotry of opinion, and earnestly implored -the papists to seek, not his destruction, but his instruction. Yet, -prudent as he was by nature in every other regard, he was all his life -the slave of one woman or another; and it was by good luck rather than -by sagacity that he did not repeatedly forfeit the fruits of his courage -and conduct in obedience to his master-passion. - -Always open to conviction on the subject of his faith, he repudiated -the appellation of heretic. A creed, he said, was not to be changed like -a shirt, but only on due deliberation and under special advice. In his -secret heart he probably regarded the two religions as his chargers, and -was ready to mount alternately the one or the other, as each seemed the -more likely to bear him safely in battle. The Bearnese was no Puritan, -but he was most true to himself and to his own advancement. His highest -principle of action was to reach his goal, and to that principle he was -ever loyal. Feeling, too, that it was for the interest of France that he -should succeed, he was even inspired--compared with others on the -stage--by an almost lofty patriotism. - -Amiable by nature and by habit, he had preserved the most unimpaired -good-humor throughout the horrible years which succeeded St. -Bartholomew, during which he carried his life in his hand, and learned -not to wear his heart upon his sleeve. Without gratitude, without -resentment, without fear, without remorse, entirely arbitrary, yet with -the capacity to use all men’s judgments; without convictions, save in -regard to his dynastic interests, he possessed all the qualities -necessary to success. He knew how to use his enemies. He knew how to use -his friends, to abuse them, and to throw them away. He refused to -assassinate Francis Alençon at the bidding of Henry III, but he -attempted to procure the murder of the truest of his own friends, one of -the noblest characters of the age, whose breast showed twelve scars -received in his service--Agrippa D’Aubigné--because the honest soldier -had refused to become his pimp, a service the king had implored upon his -knees. - -Beneath the mask of perpetual, careless good-humor, lurked the keenest -eye, a subtle, restless, widely combining brain, and an iron will. -Native sagacity had been tempered into consummate elasticity by the -fiery atmosphere in which feebler natures had been dissolved. His wit -was as flashing and as quickly unsheathed as his sword. Desperate, -apparently reckless temerity on the battle-field was deliberately -indulged in, that the world might be brought to recognize a hero and -chieftain in a king. The do-nothings of the Merovingian line had been -succeeded by the Pepins; to the effete Carlovingians had come a Capet; -to the impotent Valois should come a worthier descendant of St. Louis. -This was shrewd Gascon calculation, aided by constitutional -fearlessness. When dispatch-writing, invisible Philips, star-gazing -Rudolphs, and petticoated Henrys sat upon the thrones of Europe, it was -wholesome to show the world that there was a king left who could move -about in the bustle and business of the age, and could charge as well as -most soldiers at the head of his cavalry; that there was one more -sovereign fit to reign over men, besides the glorious virgin who -governed England. - -Thus courageous, crafty, far-seeing, consistent, untiring, -imperturbable, he was born to command, and had a right to reign. He had -need of the throne, and the throne had still more need of him. - - - - -WALLENSTEIN, DUKE OF FRIEDLAND. - -BY FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER. - - [Albrecht Wenzel Eusebius von Wallenstein, a distinguished Austrian - general, the most noted opponent of Gustavus Adolphus in the Thirty - Years’ War, born 1583, assassinated 1634. Wallenstein had already - achieved the most brilliant rank among the Imperialist generals, - except Tilly, when the defeat of the latter made the ambitious - soldier, whose great wealth and unscrupulous daring had excited the - jealousy of the Emperor Ferdinand, again a necessity to the - Catholic cause. Wallenstein, who had raised and subsisted an - immense army at his own expense at a time of pressing imperial - need, had afterward been retired from command. When called again to - the help of the imperial cause, Wallenstein dictated his own terms, - which practically left Ferdinand a mere puppet in his hands. Though - Gustavus Adolphus was victor at the battle of Lützen, it was at the - cost of his own life, a result welcomed by the Catholic league as a - great victory. Wallenstein reorganized his army, and was again - ordered by the emperor to lay down his baton on the just suspicion - that he was negotiating with the Swedes disloyally. His official - removal was made known to his principal generals, and Wallenstein, - deserted by a large portion of his troops, was assassinated by a - conspiracy of his minor officers, who had become satisfied that it - would be impracticable to secure his person alive, or to prevent - his immediate junction with the advancing Swedes.] - - -Count Wallenstein, afterward Duke of Friedland, was an experienced -officer, and the richest nobleman in Bohemia. From his earliest youth he -had been in the service of the house of Austria, and several campaigns -against the Turks, Venetians, Bohemians, Hungarians, and Transylvanians -had established his reputation. He was present as colonel at the battle -of Prague, and afterward, as major-general, had defeated a Hungarian -force in Moravia. The emperor’s gratitude was equal to his services, and -a large share of the confiscated estates of the Bohemian insurgents was -their reward. Possessed of immense property, excited by ambitious views, -confident of his own good fortune, and still more encouraged by the -existing state of circumstances, he offered, at his own expense and that -of his friends, to raise and clothe an army for the emperor, and even -undertook the cost of maintaining it if he were allowed to augment it to -fifty thousand men. - -The project was universally ridiculed as the chimerical offering of a -visionary brain; but the offer was highly valuable, if its promises -should be but partly fulfilled. Certain circles in Bohemia were assigned -to him as depots, with authority to appoint his own officers. In a few -months he had twenty thousand men under arms, with which, quitting the -Austrian territories, he soon afterward appeared on the frontiers of -Lower Saxony with thirty thousand. The emperor had lent this armament -nothing but his name. The reputation of the general, the prospect of -rapid promotion, and the hope of plunder, attracted to his standard -adventurers from all quarters of Germany, and even sovereign princes, -stimulated by the desire of glory or of gain, offered to raise regiments -for the service of Austria. - -The secret how Wallenstein had purposed to fulfill his extravagant -designs was now manifest. He had learned the lesson from Count -Mansfeld,[25] but the scholar surpassed his master. On the principle -that war must support war, Mansfeld and the Duke of Brunswick had -subsisted their troops by contributions levied indiscriminately on -friend and enemy; but this predatory life was attended with all the -inconvenience and insecurity which accompany robbery. Like fugitive -banditti, they were obliged to steal through exasperated and vigilant -enemies; to roam from one end of Germany to another; to watch their -opportunity with anxiety, and to abandon the most fertile territories -whenever they were defended by a superior army. If Mansfeld and Duke -Christian had done such great things in the face of these difficulties, -what might not be expected if the obstacles were removed; when the army -raised was numerous enough to overawe in itself the most powerful states -of the empire; when the name of the emperor insured impunity to every -outrage; and when, under the highest authority, and at the head of an -overwhelming force, the same system of warfare was pursued which these -two adventurers had hitherto adopted at their own risk, and with only an -untrained multitude? - -Wallenstein was at the head of an army of nearly a hundred thousand men, -who adored him, when the sentence of his dismissal arrived. Most of the -officers were his creatures--with the common soldiers his hint was law. -His ambition was boundless, his pride indomitable, his imperious spirit -could not brook an injury unavenged. One moment would now precipitate -him from the height of grandeur into the obscurity of a private station. -To execute such a sentence upon such a delinquent seemed to require -more address than it cost to obtain it from the judge. Accordingly, two -of Wallenstein’s most intimate friends were selected as heralds of these -evil tidings, and instructed to soften them as much as possible by -flattering assurances of the continuance of the emperor’s favor. - -Wallenstein had ascertained the purport of their message before the -imperial ambassadors arrived. He had time to collect himself, and his -countenance exhibited an external calmness while grief and rage were -storming in his bosom. He had made up his mind to obey. The emperor’s -decision had taken him by surprise before circumstances were ripe or his -preparations complete for the bold measures he had contemplated. His -extensive estates were scattered over Bohemia and Moravia, and by their -confiscation the emperor might at once destroy the sinews of his power. -He looked, therefore, to the future for revenge, and in this hope he was -encouraged by the predictions of an Italian astrologer, who led his -imperious spirit like a child in leading-strings. Seni had read in the -stars that his master’s brilliant career was not yet ended, and that -bright and glorious prospects still awaited him. It was, indeed, -unnecessary to consult the stars to foretell that an enemy, Gustavus -Adolphus, would ere long render indispensable the services of such a -general as Wallenstein. - -“The Emperor is betrayed,” said Wallenstein to the messengers; “I pity -but forgive him. It is plain that the grasping spirit of the Bavarian -dictates to him. I grieve that, with so much weakness, he has sacrificed -me; but I will obey.” He dismissed the emissaries with princely -presents, and, in a humble letter, besought the continuance of the -emperor’s favor and of the dignities he had bestowed upon him. - -The murmurs of the army were universal on hearing of the dismissal of -their general, and the greater part of his officers immediately quitted -the imperial service. Many followed him to his estates in Bohemia and -Moravia; others he attached to his interests by pensions, in order to -command their services when the opportunity should offer. - -But repose was the last thing that Wallenstein contemplated when he -returned to private life. In his retreat he surrounded himself with a -regal pomp which seemed to mock the sentence of degradation. Six gates -led to the palace he inhabited in Prague, and a hundred houses were -pulled down to make way for his courtyard. Similar palaces were built on -his other numerous estates. Gentlemen of the noblest houses contended -for the honor of serving him, and even imperial chamberlains resigned -the golden key to the emperor to fill a similar office under -Wallenstein. He maintained sixty pages, who were instructed by the -ablest masters. His antechamber was protected by fifty life-guards. His -table never consisted of less than one hundred covers, and his seneschal -was a person of distinction. When he traveled his baggage and suite -accompanied him in a hundred wagons drawn by six or four horses; his -court followed in sixty carriages attended by fifty led horses. The pomp -of his liveries, the splendor of his equipages, and the decorations of -his apartments were in keeping with all the rest. Six barons and as many -knights were in constant attendance about his person, and ready to -execute his slightest order. Twelve patrols went their rounds about his -palace to prevent any disturbance. His busy genius required silence. The -noise of coaches was to be kept away from his residence, and the streets -leading to it were frequently blocked up with chains. His own circle was -as silent as the approaches to his palace. Dark, reserved, and -impenetrable, he was more sparing of his words than of his gifts, while -the little that he spoke was harsh and imperious. He never smiled, and -the coldness of his temperament was proof against sensual seductions. - -Ever occupied with grand schemes, he despised all those idle amusements -in which so many waste their lives. The correspondence he kept up with -the whole of Europe was chiefly managed by himself, and, that as little -as possible might be trusted to the silence of others, most of the -letters were written by his own hand. He was a man of large stature, -thin, of a sallow complexion, with short, red hair, and small, sparkling -eyes. A gloomy and forbidding seriousness sat upon his brow, and his -magnificent presents alone retained the trembling crowd of his -dependents. - -In this stately obscurity did Wallenstein silently but not inactively -await the hour of revenge. The victorious career of Gustavus Adolphus -soon gave him a presentiment of its approach. Not one of his lofty -schemes had been abandoned, and the emperor’s ingratitude had loosened -the curb of his ambition. The dazzling splendor of his private life -bespoke high soaring projects, and, lavish as a king, he seemed already -to reckon among his certain possessions those which he contemplated with -hope. - -Wallenstein, at the age of fifty, terminated his active and -extraordinary life. To ambition he owed both his greatness and his ruin. -With all his failings he possessed great and admirable qualities; and, -had he kept himself within due bounds, he would have lived and died -without an equal. The virtues of the ruler and of the hero--prudence, -justice, firmness, and courage--are strikingly prominent features in his -character; but he wanted the gentler virtues of the man, which adorn the -hero and make the ruler beloved. Terror was the talisman with which he -worked; extreme in his punishments as in his rewards, he knew how to -keep alive the zeal of his followers, while no general of ancient or -modern times could boast of being obeyed with equal alacrity. Submission -to his will was more prized by him than bravery; for, if the soldiers -work by the latter, it is on the former that the general depends. He -continually kept up the obedience of his troops by capricious orders, -and profusely rewarded the readiness to obey even trifles, because he -looked rather to the act itself than its object. He once issued a -decree, with the penalty of death on disobedience, that none but red -sashes should be worn in the army. A captain of horse no sooner heard -the order, than, pulling off his gold-embroidered sash, he trampled it -under foot. Wallenstein, on being informed of the circumstance, promoted -him on the spot to the rank of colonel. - -His comprehensive glance was always directed to the whole, and in all -his apparent caprice, he steadily kept in view some general scope or -bearing. The robberies committed by the soldiers in a friendly country -had led to the severest orders against marauders; and all who should be -caught thieving were threatened with the halter. Wallenstein himself -having met a straggler in the open country upon the field, commanded him -to be seized without trial, as a transgressor of the law, and, in his -usual voice of thunder, exclaimed, “Hang the fellow,” against which no -opposition ever availed. The soldier pleaded and proved his innocence, -but the irrevocable sentence had gone forth. “Hang, then, innocent,” -cried the inexorable Wallenstein, “the guilty will have then more reason -to tremble.” Preparations were already making to execute the sentence, -when the soldier, who gave himself up for lost, formed the desperate -resolution of not dying without revenge. He fell furiously upon his -judge, but was overpowered by numbers and disarmed before he could -fulfil his design. “Now let him go,” said the duke, “it will excite -sufficient terror.” - -His munificence was supported by an immense income, which was estimated -at three millions of florins yearly, without reckoning the enormous sums -which he raised under the name of contributions. His liberality and -clearness of understanding raised him above the religious prejudices of -his age; and the Jesuits never forgave him for having seen through their -system, and for regarding the pope as nothing more than a bishop of -Rome. - -But as no one ever yet came to a fortunate end who quarrelled with the -Church, Wallenstein, also, must augment the number of its victims. -Through the intrigues of monks, he lost at Ratisbon the command of the -army, and at Egra his life; by the same arts, perhaps, he lost what was -of more consequence, his honorable name and good repute with posterity. - -For, in justice, it must be admitted that the pens which have traced the -history of this extraordinary man are not untinged with partiality, and -that the treachery of the duke, and his designs upon the throne of -Bohemia, rest not so much upon proved facts, as upon probable -conjecture. No documents have yet been brought to light which disclose -with historical certainty the secret motives of his conduct; and among -all his public and well-attested actions, there is, perhaps, not one -which could have had an innocent end. Many of his most obnoxious -measures proved nothing but the earnest wish he entertained for peace; -most of the others are explained and justified by the well-founded -distrust he entertained of the emperor, and the excusable wish of -maintaining his own importance. It is true, that his conduct toward the -Elector of Bavaria looks too like an unworthy revenge, and the dictates -of an implacable spirit; but still, none of his actions perhaps warrant -us in holding his treason to be proved. If necessity and despair at last -forced him to deserve the sentence which had been pronounced against him -while innocent, still this will not justify that sentence. Thus -Wallenstein fell, not because he was a rebel, but he became a rebel -because he fell. Unfortunate in life that he made a victorious party his -enemy, but still more unfortunate in death, that the same party survived -him and wrote his history. - -[Illustration: CARDINAL RICHELIEU.] - - - - -CARDINAL RICHELIEU. - -BY SIR JAMES STEPHEN. - - [Armand Jean Duplessis, Cardinal and Duke de Richelieu, born 1585, - died 1642. Originally trained to arms, as Marquis du Chillon, he - decided to take orders, studied theology and was made Bishop of - Luçon in 1607. During the minority of Louis XIII he enjoyed the - confidence of the queen regent, Maria de’ Medici, and in 1622 - received the cardinal’s hat. In spite of the dislike of the king he - became prime minister and practically ruled France till his death. - Though a prince of the Church, Richelieu secretly assisted the - parliamentary party in the English Revolution of 1640; and gave - most important assistance both in money and armies, as a matter of - state policy, to the Protestants during the Thirty Years’ War.] - - -Richelieu was one of the rulers of mankind in virtue of an inherent and -indefeasible birthright. His title to command rested on that sublime -force of will and decision of character by which, in an age of great -men, he was raised above them all. It is a gift which supposes and -requires in him on whom it is conferred convictions too firm to be -shaken by the discovery of any unperceived or unheeded truths. It is, -therefore, a gift which, when bestowed on the governors of nations, also -presupposes in them the patience to investigate, the capacity to -comprehend, and the genius to combine, all those views of the national -interest, under the guidance of which their inflexible policy is to be -conducted to its destined consummation; for the stoutest hearted men, if -acting in ignorance, or under the impulse of haste or of error, must -often pause, often hesitate, and not seldom recede. Richelieu was -exposed to no such danger. He moved onward to his predetermined ends -with that unfaltering step which attests, not merely a stern -immutability of purpose, but a comprehensive survey of the path to be -trodden, and a profound acquaintance with all its difficulties and all -its resources. It was a path from which he could be turned aside -neither by his bad nor by his good genius; neither by fear, lassitude, -interest, nor pleasure; nor by justice, pity, humanity, nor conscience. - -The idolatrous homage of mere mental power, without reference to the -motives by which it is governed, or to the ends to which it is -addressed--that blind hero-worship, which would place Wallenstein and -Gustavus Adolphus on the same level, and extol with equal warmth the -triumphs of Cromwell and of Washington, though it be a modern fashion, -has certainly not the charm of novelty. On the contrary, it might, in -the language of the Puritans, be described as one of the “old follies of -the old Adam”; and to the influence of that folly the reputation of -Richelieu is not a little indebted. - -In his estimate, the absolute dominion of the French crown and the -grandeur of France were convertible terms. They seemed to him but as two -different aspects of the great consummation to which every hour of his -political life was devoted. In approaching that ultimate goal, there -were to be surmounted many obstacles which he distinctly perceived, and -of which he has given a very clear summary in his “Testament Politique.” -“When it pleased your majesty,” he says, “to give me not only a place in -your council, but a great share in the conduct of your affairs, the -Huguenots divided the state with you. The great lords were acting, not -as your subjects, but as independent chieftains. The governors of your -provinces were conducting themselves like so many sovereign princes. -Foreign affairs and alliances were disregarded. The interest of the -public was postponed to that of private men. In a word, your authority -was, at that time so torn to shreds, and so unlike what it ought to be, -that, in the confusion, it was impossible to recognize the genuine -traces of your royal power.” - -Before his death, Richelieu had triumphed over all these enemies, and -had elevated the house of Bourbon upon their ruins. He is, I believe, -the only human being who ever conceived and executed, in the spirit of -philosophy, the design of erecting a political despotism; not, indeed a -despotism like that of Constantinople or Teheran, but a power which, -being restrained by religion, by learning, and by public spirit, was to -be exempted from all other restraints; a dynasty which, like a kind of -subordinate providence, was to spread wide its arms for the guidance and -shelter of the subject multitude, itself the while inhabiting a region -too lofty to be ever darkened by the mists of human weakness or of human -corruption. - -To devise schemes worthy of the academies of Laputa, and to pursue them -with all the relentless perseverance of Cortés or of Clive, has been -characteristic of many of the statesmen of France, both in remote and in -recent times. Richelieu was but a more successful Mirabeau. He was not -so much a minister as a dictator. He was rather the depositary than the -agent of the royal power. A king in all things but the name, he reigned -with that exemption from hereditary and domestic influences which has so -often imparted to the papal monarchs a kind of preterhuman energy, and -has so often taught the world to deprecate the celibacy of the throne. - -Richelieu was the heir of the designs of Henry IV, and the ancestor of -those of Louis XIV. But they courted, and were sustained by, the -applause and the attachment of their subjects. He passed his life in one -unintermitted struggle with each, in turn, of the powerful bodies over -which he ruled. By a long series of well-directed blows, he crushed -forever the political and military strength of the Huguenots. By his -strong hand, the sovereign courts were confined to their judicial -duties, and their claims to participate in the government of the state -were scattered to the winds. Trampling under foot all rules of judicial -procedure and the clearest principles of justice, he brought to the -scaffold one after another of the proudest nobles of France, by -sentences dictated by himself to extraordinary judges of his own -selection; thus teaching the doctrine of social equality by lessons too -impressive to be misinterpreted or forgotten by any later generation. -Both the privileges, in exchange for which the greater fiefs had -surrendered their independence, and the franchises, for the conquest of -which the cities, in earlier times, had successfully contended, were -alike swept away by this remorseless innovator. He exiled the mother, -oppressed the wife, degraded the brother, banished the confessor, and -put to death the kinsmen and favorites of the king, and compelled the -king himself to be the instrument of these domestic severities. Though -surrounded by enemies and by rivals, his power ended only with his life. -Though beset by assassins, he died in the ordinary course of nature. -Though he had waded to dominion through slaughter, cruelty, and wrong, -he passed to his great account amid the applause of the people, with the -benedictions of the Church; and, as far as any human being ever could -perceive, in hope, in tranquility, and in peace. - -What, then, is the reason why so tumultuous a career reached at length -so serene a close? The reason is that, amid all his conflicts, Richelieu -wisely and successfully maintained three powerful alliances. He -cultivated the attachment of men of letters, the favor of the commons, -and the sympathy of all French idolaters of the national glory. - -He was a man of extensive, if not of profound, learning, a theologian of -some account, and an aspirant for fame as a dramatist, a wit, a poet, -and a historian. But if his claims to admiration as a writer were -disputable, none contended his title to applause as a patron of -literature and of art. The founder of a despotism in the world of -politics, he aspired also to be the founder of a commonwealth in the -world of letters. While crushing the national liberties, he founded the -French Academy as the sacred shrine of intellectual freedom and -independence. Acknowledging no equal in the state, he forbade the -acknowledgment, in that literary republic, of any superiority save that -of genius. While refusing to bare his head to any earthly potentate, he -would permit no eminent author to stand bareheaded in his presence. By -these cheap and not dishonest arts, he gained an inestimable advantage. -The honors he conferred on the men of learning of his age they largely -repaid, by placing under his control the main-springs of public opinion. - -To conciliate the commons of France, Richelieu even ostentatiously -divested himself of every prejudice hostile to his popularity. A prince -of the Church of Rome, he cherished the independence of the Gallican -Church and clergy. The conqueror of the Calvinists, he yet respected the -rights of conscience. Of noble birth and ancestry, his demeanor was -still that of a tribune of the people. But it was not by demeanor alone -that he labored to win their regard. He affected the more solid praise -of large and salutary reformations. - - - - -GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, KING OF SWEDEN. - -BY FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER. - - [Known as the Protector of the Protestant Faith, the most brilliant - hero of the Thirty Years’ War, and one of the greatest soldiers of - modern times, born 1594, killed at the battle of Lutzen, 1632. In - 1630, the Swedish king having satisfactorily disposed of the - various national difficulties which had so far embarrassed his - career, threw the weight of his gantlet into the struggle going on - between the Catholic league, headed by Ferdinand of Austria, and - the Protestant princes of Germany. The great genius of Gustavus - Adolphus, who taught an entirely new system of tactics, made him - irresistible, and in two years he firmly established a Protestant - ascendancy in German affairs which no power afterward could break. - Wallenstein was his most brilliant antagonist. After the death of - the Swedish hero, the generals who had been trained in his school - continued the war with various vicissitudes till peace was - declared, substantially granting the rights for which the - Protestant chieftains had been fighting.] - - -Gustavus Adolphus had not completed his seventeenth year when the -Swedish throne became vacant by the death of his father; but the early -maturity of his genius enabled the Estates to abridge in his favor the -legal period of minority. With a glorious conquest over himself, he -commenced a reign which was to have victory for its constant -attendant--a career which was to begin and end in success. The young -Countess of Brahe, the daughter of a subject, had gained his early -affections, and he had resolved to share with her the Swedish throne; -but, constrained by time and circumstances, he made his attachment yield -to the higher duties of a king, and heroism again took exclusive -possession of a heart which was not destined by nature to confine itself -within the limits of quiet domestic happiness. - -Christian IV of Denmark, who ascended the throne before the birth of -Gustavus, in an inroad upon Sweden, had gained some considerable -advantages over the father of that hero. Gustavus Adolphus hastened to -put an end to this destructive war, and, by prudent sacrifices, obtained -a peace in order to turn his arms against the czar of Muscovy. The -questionable fame of a conqueror never tempted him to spend the blood of -his subjects in unjust wars; but he never shrunk from a just one. His -arms were successful against Russia, and Sweden was augmented by several -important provinces on the east. - -In the meantime, Sigismund of Poland retained against the son the same -sentiments of hostility which the father had provoked, and left no -artifice untried to shake the allegiance of his subjects, to cool the -ardor of his friends, and to embitter his enemies. Neither the great -qualities of his rival, nor the repeated proofs of devotion which Sweden -gave to her loved monarch, could extinguish in this infatuated prince -the foolish hope of regaining his lost throne. All Gustavus’s overtures -were haughtily rejected. Unwillingly was this really peaceful king -involved in a tedious war with Poland, in which the whole of Livonia and -Polish Prussia were successively conquered. Though constantly -victorious, Gustavus Adolphus was always the first to hold out the hand -of peace. - -After the unsuccessful attempt of the king of Denmark to check the -emperor’s[26] progress, Gustavus Adolphus was the only prince in Europe -to whom oppressed liberty could look for protection--the only one who, -while he was personally qualified to conduct such an enterprise, had -both political motives to recommend and wrongs to justify it. Before the -commencement of the war in Lower Saxony, important political interests -induced him, as well as the king of Denmark, to offer his services and -his army for the defense of Germany; but the offer of the latter had, to -his own misfortune, been preferred. Since that time Wallenstein and the -emperor had adopted measures which must have been equally offensive to -him as a man and as a king. Imperial troops had been dispatched to the -aid of the Polish king, Sigismund, to defend Prussia against the Swedes. -When the king complained to Wallenstein of this act of hostility, he -received for answer, “The emperor has more soldiers than he wants for -himself; he must help his friends.” The Swedish ambassadors had been -insolently ordered by Wallenstein to withdraw from the conference at -Lubeck; and when, unawed by this command, they were courageous enough to -remain, contrary to the law of nations, he had threatened them with -violence. - -Ferdinand had also insulted the Swedish flag, and intercepted the king’s -dispatches to Transylvania. He also threw every obstacle in the way of a -peace between Poland and Sweden, supported the pretensions of Sigismund -to the Swedish throne, and denied the right of Gustavus to the title of -king. Deigning no regard to the repeated remonstrances of Gustavus, he -rather aggravated the offence by new grievances than conceded the -required satisfaction. - -So many personal motives, supported by important considerations, both of -policy and religion, and seconded by pressing invitations from Germany, -had their full weight with a prince who was naturally the more jealous -of his royal prerogative the more it was questioned, who was flattered -by the glory he hoped to gain as Protector of the Oppressed, and -passionately loved war as the element of his genius. - -But the strongest pledge for the success of his undertaking Gustavus -found in himself. Prudence demanded that he should embrace all the -foreign assistance he could, in order to guard his enterprise from the -imputation of rashness; but all his confidence and courage were entirely -derived from himself. He was indisputably the greatest general of his -age, and the bravest soldier in the army which he had formed. Familiar -with the tactics of Greece and Rome, he had discovered a more effective -system of warfare, which was adopted as a model by the most eminent -commanders of subsequent times. He reduced the unwieldly squadrons of -cavalry, and rendered their movements more light and rapid; and, with -the same view, he widened the intervals between his battalions. Instead -of the usual array in a single line, he disposed his forces in two -lines, that the second might advance in the event of the first giving -way. - -He made up for his want of cavalry, by placing infantry among the horse; -a practice which frequently decided the victory. Europe first learned -from him the importance of infantry. All Germany was astonished at the -strict discipline which, at the first, so creditably distinguished the -Swedish army within their territories; all disorders were punished with -the utmost severity--particularly impiety, theft, gambling, and -duelling. The Swedish articles of war enforced frugality. In the camp, -the king’s tent not excepted, neither silver nor gold was to be seen. -The general’s eye looked as vigilantly to the morals as to the martial -bravery of his soldiers; every regiment was ordered to form round its -chaplain for morning and evening prayers. In all these points the -lawgiver was also an example. A sincere and ardent piety exalted his -courage. Equally free from the coarse infidelity which leaves the -passions of the barbarian without control; and from the grovelling -superstition of Ferdinand, who humbled himself to the dust before the -Supreme Being, while he haughtily trampled on his fellow creature--in -the height of his success he was ever a man and a Christian; in the -height of his devotion a king and a hero. - -The hardships of war he shared with the meanest soldier in his army; -maintained a calm serenity amid the hottest fury of battle; his glance -was omnipresent, and he intrepidly forgot the danger while he exposed -himself to the greatest peril. His natural courage, indeed, too often -made him forget the duty of a general; and the life of a king ended in -the death of a common soldier. But such a leader was followed to victory -alike by the coward and the brave, and his eagle glance marked every -heroic deed which his example had inspired. The fame of their sovereign -excited in the nation an enthusiastic sense of their own importance; -proud of their king, the peasant in Finland and Gothland joyfully -contributed his pittance; the soldier willingly shed his blood; and the -lofty energy which his single mind had imparted to the nation long -survived its creator. - -If Gustavus Adolphus owed his successes chiefly to his own genius, at -the same time, it must be owned, he was greatly favored by fortune and -by circumstance. Two great advantages gave him a decided superiority -over the enemy. While he removed the scene of war into the lands of the -League, drew their youths as recruits, enriched himself with booty, and -used the revenue of their fugitive princes as his own, he at once took -from the enemy the means of effectual resistance, and maintained an -expensive war with little cost to himself. And, moreover, while his -opponents, the princes of the League, divided among themselves, and -governed by different and conflicting interests, acted without -unanimity, and therefore without energy; while the generals were -deficient in authority, their troops in obedience, the operations of -their scattered armies without concert; while the general was separated -from the lawgiver and the statesman; these several functions were united -in Gustavus Adolphus, the only source from which authority flowed, the -sole object to which the eye of the warrior turned; the soul of his -party, the inventor as well as the executor of his plans. In him, -therefore, the Protestants had a center of unity and harmony, which was -altogether wanting to their opponents. No wonder, then, if favored by -such advantages, at the head of such an army, with such a genius to -direct it, and guided by such political prudence, Gustavus Adolphus was -irresistible. - -With the sword in one hand, and mercy in the other, he traversed Germany -as a conqueror, a lawgiver, and a judge, in as short a time almost as -the tourist of pleasure. The keys of towers and fortresses were -delivered to him, as if to a native sovereign. No fortress was -inaccessible; no river checked his victorious career. He conquered by -the very terror of his name. - -History, too often confined to the ungrateful task of analyzing the -uniform play of human passions, is occasionally rewarded by the -appearance of events which strike like a hand from heaven into the -nicely adjusted machinery of human plans, and carry the contemplative -mind to a higher order of things. Of this kind, is the sudden retirement -of Gustavus Adolphus from the scene; stopping for a time the whole -movement of the political machine, and disappointing all the -calculations of human prudence. Yesterday, the very soul, the great and -animating principle of his own creation; to-day struck unpitiably to the -ground in the very midst of his eagle flight; untimely torn from a whole -world of great designs, and from the ripening harvest of his -expectations, he left his bereaved party disconsolate; and the proud -edifice of his past greatness sank into ruins. The Protestant party had -identified its hopes with its invincible leader, and scarcely can it now -separate them from him; with him, they now fear all good fortune is -buried. But it was no longer the benefactor of Germany who fell at -Lutzen; the beneficent part of his career, Gustavus Adolphus had already -terminated; and now the greatest service which he could render to the -liberties of Germany was--to die. - -The ambition of the Swedish monarch aspired unquestionably to establish -a power within Germany, and to attain a firm footing in the center of -the empire, which was inconsistent with the liberties of the Estates. -His aim was the imperial crown; and this dignity, supported by his -power, and maintained by his energy and activity, would in his hands be -liable to more abuse than had ever been feared from the House of -Austria. Born in a foreign country, educated in the maxims of arbitrary -power, and by principles and enthusiasm a determined enemy to popery, he -was ill qualified to maintain inviolate the constitution of the German -States, or to respect their liberties. The coercive homage which -Augsburg, with many other cities, was forced to pay to the Swedish -crown, bespoke the conqueror, rather than the protector of the empire; -and this town, prouder of the title of a royal city than of the higher -dignity of the freedom of the empire, flattered itself with the -anticipation of becoming the capital of his future kingdom. - -His ill-disguised attempts upon the Electorate of Mentz, which he first -intended to bestow upon the Elector of Brandenburg, as the dower of his -daughter Christina, and afterward destined for his chancellor and friend -Oxenstiern, evinced plainly what liberties he was disposed to take with -the constitution of the empire. His allies, the Protestant princes, had -claims on his gratitude, which could be satisfied only at the expense of -their Roman Catholic neighbors, and particularly of the immediate -Ecclesiastical Chapters; and it seems probable a plan was early formed -for dividing the conquered provinces (after the precedent of the -barbarian hordes who overran the German empire) as a common spoil, among -the German and Swedish confederates. In his treatment of the Elector -Palatine, he entirely belied the magnanimity of the hero, and forgot the -sacred character of a protector. The Palatinate was in his hands, and -the obligations both of justice and honor demanded its full and -immediate restoration to the legitimate sovereign. But, by a subtlety -unworthy of a great mind, and disgraceful to the honorable title of -protector of the oppressed, he eluded that obligation. He treated the -Palatinate as a conquest wrested from the enemy, and thought that this -circumstance gave him a right to deal with it as he pleased. He -surrendered it to the Elector as a favor, not as a debt; and that, too, -as a Swedish fief, fettered by conditions which diminished half its -value, and degraded this unfortunate prince into a humble vassal of -Sweden. One of these conditions obliged the Elector, after the -conclusion of the war, to furnish, along with the other princes, his -contribution toward the maintenance of the Swedish army--a condition -which plainly indicates the fate which, in the event of the ultimate -success of the king, awaited Germany. His sudden disappearance secured -the liberties of Germany, and saved his reputation, while it probably -spared him the mortification of seeing his own allies in arms against -him, and all the fruits of his victories torn from him by a -disadvantageous peace. - - - - -EARL OF STRAFFORD. - -BY DAVID HUME. - - [Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, born 1593, executed 1641. At - first a leading member of the opposition to Charles I in - Parliament, he afterward joined the court party and became - successively Viscount Wentworth and Earl of Strafford. As governor - of Ireland, he organized the first standing army in English annals; - and afterward formulated the policy of “Thorough”--an executive - system which would have made Charles an absolute monarch, free of - parliamentary or other shackles. His remarkable political genius - inspired such dread that Parliament looked on his death as - essential to their cause. He was impeached as a traitor, an - indictment undoubtedly true, but which could not be legally proved. - He was finally condemned by a bill of attainder. The worst blot on - Charles I is that he should have yielded up Strafford to his foes - with hardly a struggle. Though traitor to his country, he was the - most loyal and devoted of servants to his king. Hume’s estimate of - Strafford is more lenient than that of other historians.] - - -In the former situation of the English Government, when the sovereign -was in a great measure independent of his subjects, the king chose his -ministers either from personal favor, or from an opinion of their -abilities, without any regard to their parliamentary interest or -talents. It has since been the maxim of princes, wherever popular -leaders encroach too much on royal authority, to confer offices on them, -in expectation that they will afterward become more careful not to -diminish that power which has become their own. These politics were now -embraced by Charles; a sure proof that a secret revolution had happened -in the constitution, and had necessitated the prince to adopt new maxims -of government. But the views of the king were at this time so repugnant -to those of the Puritans that the leaders whom he gained lost from that -moment all interest with their party, and were even pursued as traitors -with implacable hatred and resentment. - -This was the case with Sir Thomas Wentworth, whom the king created first -a baron, then a viscount, and afterward Earl of Strafford; made him -president of the council of York, and deputy of Ireland; and regarded -him as his chief minister and counsellor. By his eminent talents and -abilities Strafford merited all the confidence which his master reposed -in him; his character was stately and austere--more fitted to procure -esteem than love; his fidelity to the king was unshaken; but as he now -employed all his counsels to support the prerogative, which he had -formerly bent all his endeavors to diminish, his virtue seems not to -have been entirely pure, but to have been susceptible of strong -impressions from private interest and ambition. - -The death of Strafford was too important a stroke of party to be left -unattempted by any expedient however extraordinary. Besides the great -genius and authority of that minister, he had threatened some of the -popular leaders with an impeachment; and had he not himself been -suddenly prevented by the impeachment of the Commons, he had, that very -day, it was thought, charged Pym, Hambden, and others with treason for -having invited the Scots to invade England. A bill of attainder was, -therefore, brought into the Lower House immediately after finishing -these pleadings; and preparatory to it a new proof of the earl’s guilt -was produced, in order to remove such scruples as might be entertained -with regard to a method of proceeding so unusual and irregular. - -Sir Henry Vane, secretary, had taken some notes of a debate in council -after the dissolution of the last Parliament; and being at a distance, -he had sent the keys of his cabinet, as was pretended, to his son, Sir -Henry, in order to search for some papers, which were necessary for -completing a marriage settlement. Young Vane, falling upon this paper of -notes, deemed the matter of the utmost importance, and immediately -communicated it to Pym, who now produced the paper before the House of -Commons. The question before the council was, _offensive or defensive -war with the Scots_. The king proposes this difficulty, “But how can I -undertake offensive war, if I have no more money?” The answer ascribed -to Strafford was in these words: “Borrow of the city a hundred thousand -pounds; go on vigorously to levy ship-money. Your majesty having tried -the affections of your people, you are absolved and loose from all rules -of government, and may do what power will admit. Your majesty, having -tried all ways, shall be acquitted before God and man. And you have an -army in Ireland, which you may employ to reduce this kingdom to -obedience; for I am confident the Scots can not hold out five months.” -There followed some counsels of Laud and Cottington, equally violent, -with regard to the king’s being absolved from all rules of government. - -The evidence of Secretary Vane, though exposed to such insurmountable -objections, was the real cause of Strafford’s unhappy fate, and made the -bill of attainder pass the Commons with no greater opposition than that -of fifty-nine dissenting votes. But there remained two other branches of -the legislature, the king and the lords, whose assent was requisite; and -these, if left to their free judgment, it was easily foreseen, would -reject the bill without scruple or deliberation. To overcome this -difficulty, the popular leaders employed expedients, for which they were -beholden partly to their own industry, partly to the indiscretion of -their adversaries. - -Strafford, in passing from his apartment to Tower Hill, where the -scaffold was erected, stopped under Laud’s windows, with whom he had -long lived in intimate friendship, and entreated the assistance of his -prayers in those awful moments which were approaching. The aged primate -dissolved in tears; and having pronounced, with a broken voice, a tender -blessing on his departing friend, sank into the arms of his attendants. -Strafford, still superior to his fate, moved on with an elated -countenance, and with an air even of greater dignity than what usually -attended him. He wanted that consolation which commonly supports those -who perish by the stroke of injustice and oppression; he was not buoyed -up by glory, nor by the affectionate compassion of the spectators. Yet -his mind, erect and undaunted, found resources within itself, and -maintained its unbroken resolution amid the terrors of death and the -triumphant exultations of his misguided enemies. His discourse on the -scaffold was full of decency and courage. “He feared,” he said, “that -the omen was bad for the intended reformation of the state, that it -commenced with the shedding of innocent blood.” - -Having bid a last adieu to his brother and friends who attending him, -and having sent a blessing to his nearer relations who were absent--“And -now,” said he, “I have nigh done! One stroke will make my wife a widow, -my dear children fatherless, deprive my poor servants of their indulgent -master, and separate me from my affectionate brother and all my friends! -But let God be to you and them all in all!” Going to disrobe and prepare -himself for the block, “I thank God,” said he, “that I am nowise afraid -of death, nor am daunted with any terrors; but do as cheerfully lay down -my head at this time, as ever I did when going to repose!” With one blow -was a period put to his life by the executioner. - -Thus perished, in the forty-ninth year of his age, the Earl of -Strafford, one of the most eminent personages that has appeared in -England. Though his death was loudly demanded as a satisfaction to -justice, and an atonement for the many violations of the constitution, -it may safely be affirmed that the sentence by which he fell was an -enormity greater than the worst of those which his implacable enemies -prosecuted with so much cruel industry. The people in their rage had -totally mistaken the proper object of their resentment. All the -necessities, or more properly speaking, the difficulties, by which the -king had been induced to use violent expedients for raising supply were -the result of measures previous to Strafford’s favor; and if they arose -from ill conduct, he, at least, was entirely innocent. - -Even those violent expedients themselves, which occasioned the complaint -that the constitution was subverted, had been all of them conducted, so -far as appeared, without his counsel or assistance. And whatever his -private advice might be, this salutary maxim he failed not, often and -publicly, to inculcate in the king’s presence, that if any - -[Illustration: OLIVER CROMWELL.] - -inevitable necessity ever obliged the sovereign to violate the laws, -this license ought to be practiced with extreme reserve, and as soon as -possible a just atonement be made to the constitution for any injury -which it might sustain from such dangerous precedents. The first -Parliament after the restoration reversed the bill of attainder; and -even a few weeks after Strafford’s execution this very Parliament -remitted to his children the more severe consequences of his sentence, -as if conscious of the violence with which the prosecution had been -conducted. - - - - -OLIVER CROMWELL. - -BY THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. - - [Lord Protector of the English Commonwealth, and leader of the - Revolution of 1640, born 1599, died 1658. Descended from a good - race, connected with some of the best families in England, he - became identified with the Puritan cause in the contest with King - Charles I. He took active part in hostilities from the first, - formed the famous Ironsides, and reorganized the parliamentary - army, of which he soon became the chief general. He was active in - the formation of the High Commission, which tried and condemned the - king, and thenceforward was the ruler of England. It was not till - 1651, however, that he became the titular Lord Protector, and - reorganized the government mainly on the lines of monarchy.] - - -The soul of his party was Oliver Cromwell. Bred to peaceful occupations, -he had, at more than forty years of age, accepted a commission in the -parliamentary army. He saw precisely where the strength of the Royalists -lay, and by what means alone that strength could be overpowered. He saw -that it was necessary to reconstruct the army of the Parliament. He saw -also that there were abundant and excellent materials for the purpose, -materials less showy, indeed, but more solid, than those of which the -gallant squadrons of the king were composed. It was necessary to look -for recruits who were not mere mercenaries, for recruits of decent -station and grave character, fearing God and zealous for public liberty. -With such men he filled his own regiment, and, while he subjected them -to a discipline more rigid than had ever before been known in England, -he administered to their intellectual and moral nature stimulants of -fearful potency. Cromwell made haste to organize the whole army on the -same principles on which he had organized his own regiment. As soon as -this process was complete, the event of the war was decided. The -Cavaliers had now to encounter natural courage equal to their own, -enthusiasm stronger than their own, and discipline such as was utterly -wanting to them. It soon became a proverb that the soldiers of Fairfax -and Cromwell were men of a different breed from the soldiers of Essex. -At Naseby took place the first great encounter between the Royalists and -the remodeled army of the Houses. The victory of the Roundheads was -complete and decisive. It was followed by other triumphs in rapid -succession. In a few months the authority of the Parliament was fully -established over the whole kingdom. Charles fled to the Scots, and was -by them, in a manner which did not much exalt their national character, -delivered up to his English subjects. - -In war this strange force was irresistible. The stubborn courage -characteristic of the English people was, by the system of Cromwell, at -once regulated and stimulated. Other leaders have maintained orders as -strict. Other leaders have inspired their followers with zeal as ardent. -But in his camp alone the most rigid discipline was found in company -with the fiercest enthusiasm. His troops moved to victory with the -precision of machines, while burning with the wildest fanaticism of -crusaders. From the time when the army was remodeled to the time when it -was disbanded, it never found, either in the British islands or on the -Continent, an enemy who could stand its onset. In England, Scotland, -Ireland, Flanders, the Puritan warriors, often surrounded by -difficulties, sometimes contending against threefold odds, not only -never failed to conquer, but never failed to destroy and break in pieces -whatever force was opposed to them. They at length came to regard the -day of battle as a day of certain triumph, and marched against the most -renowned battalions of Europe with disdainful confidence. Turenne was -startled by the shout of stern exultation with which his English allies -advanced to the combat, and expressed the delight of a true soldier, -when he learned that it was ever the fashion of Cromwell’s pikemen to -rejoice greatly when they beheld the enemy; and the banished Cavaliers -felt an emotion of national pride, when they saw a brigade of their -countrymen, outnumbered by foes and abandoned by friends, drive before -it in headlong rout the finest infantry of Spain. The military saints -resolved that, in defiance of the old laws of the realm, and of the -almost universal sentiment of the realm, the king should expiate his -crimes with blood. In order to accomplish their purpose, it was -necessary that they should first break in pieces every part of the -machinery of government. A revolutionary tribunal was created. That -tribunal pronounced Charles a tyrant, a traitor, a murderer, and a -public enemy; and his head was severed from his shoulders before -thousands of spectators in front of the banqueting hall of his own -palace. - -King, Lords, and Commons, had now in turn been vanquished and destroyed; -and Cromwell seemed to be left the sole heir of the powers of all three. -Yet were certain limitations still imposed on him by the very army to -which he owed his immense authority. That singular body of men was, for -the most part, composed of zealous republicans. In the act of enslaving -their country, they had deceived themselves into the belief that they -were emancipating her. The book which they most venerated furnished them -with a precedent, which was frequently in their mouths. It was true that -the ignorant and ungrateful nation murmured against its deliverers. -Even so had another chosen nation murmured against the leader who -brought it, by painful and dreary paths, from the house of bondage to -the land flowing with milk and honey. Yet had that leader rescued his -brethren in spite of themselves; nor had he shrunk from making terrible -examples of those who contemned the proffered freedom, and pined for the -fleshpots, the taskmasters and the idolatries of Egypt. The object of -the warlike saints who surrounded Cromwell was the settlement of a free -and pious commonwealth. For that end they were ready to employ, without -scruple, any means, however violent and lawless. It was not impossible, -therefore, to establish by their aid a dictatorship such as no king had -even exercised: but it was probable that their aid would be at once -withdrawn from a ruler who, even under strict constitutional restraints, -should venture to assume the kingly name and dignity. - -The sentiments of Cromwell were widely different. He was not what he had -been; nor would it be just to consider the change which his views had -undergone as the effect merely of selfish ambition. He had, when he came -up to the Long Parliament, brought with him from his rural retreat -little knowledge of books, no experience of great affairs, and a temper -galled by the long tyranny of the government and of the hierarchy. He -had, during the thirteen years which followed, gone through a political -education of no common kind. He had been a chief actor in a succession -of revolutions. He had been long the soul, and at last the head, of a -party. He had commanded armies, won battles, negotiated treaties, -subdued, pacified, and regulated kingdoms. It would have been strange -indeed if his notions had been still the same as in the days when his -mind was principally occupied by his fields and his religion, and when -the greatest events which diversified the course of his life were a -cattle fair or a prayer meeting at Huntingdon. He saw that some schemes -of innovation for which he had once been zealous, whether good or bad -in themselves, were opposed to the general feeling of the country, and -that, if he persevered in those schemes, he had nothing before him but -constant troubles, which must be suppressed by the constant use of the -sword. He therefore wished to restore, in all essentials, that ancient -constitution which the majority of the people had always loved, and for -which they now pined. - -The course afterward taken by Monk was not open to Cromwell. The memory -of one terrible day separated the great regicide for ever from the house -of Stuart. What remained was that he should mount the ancient English -throne, and reign according to the ancient English polity. If he could -effect this, he might hope that the wounds of the lacerated state would -heal fast. Great numbers of honest and quiet men would speedily rally -round him. Those Royalists whose attachment was rather to institutions -than to persons, to the kingly office than to King Charles I or King -Charles II, would soon kiss the hand of King Oliver. The peers, who now -remained sullenly at their country houses, and refused to take any part -in public affairs, would, when summoned to their House by the writ of a -king in possession, gladly resume their ancient functions. -Northumberland and Bedford, Manchester and Pembroke, would be proud to -bear the crown and the spurs, the scepter and the globe, before the -restorer of aristocracy. A sentiment of loyalty would gradually bind the -people to the new dynasty; and, on the decease of the founder of that -dynasty, the royal dignity might descend with general acquiescence to -his posterity. - -The ablest Royalists were of opinion that these views were correct, and -that, if Cromwell had been permitted to follow his own judgment, the -exiled line would never have been restored. But his plan was directly -opposed to the feelings of the only class which he dared not offend. The -name of king was hateful to the soldiers. Some of them were indeed -unwilling to see the administration in the hands of any single person. -The great majority, however, were disposed to support their general, as -elective first magistrate of a commonwealth, against all factions which -might resist his authority: but they would not consent that he should -assume the regal title, or that the dignity, which was the just reward -of his personal merit, should be declared hereditary in his family. All -that was left to him was to give to the new republic a constitution as -like the constitution of the old monarchy as the army would bear. - -Had he been a cruel, licentious, and rapacious prince, the nation might -have found courage in despair, and might have made a convulsive effort -to free itself from military domination. But the grievances which the -country suffered, though such as excited serious discontent, were by no -means such as impel great masses of men to stake their lives, their -fortunes, and the welfare of their families against fearful odds. The -taxation, though heavier than it had been under the Stuarts, was not -heavy when compared with that of the neighboring states and with the -resources of England. Property was secure. Even the Cavalier, who -refrained from giving disturbance to the new settlement, enjoyed in -peace whatever the civil troubles had left him. The laws were violated -only in cases where the safety of the Protector’s person and government -was concerned. Justice was administered between man and man with an -exactness and purity not before known. Under no English government, -since the Reformation, had there been so little religious persecution. -The unfortunate Roman Catholics, indeed, were held to be scarcely within -the pale of Christian charity. But the clergy of the fallen Anglican -Church were suffered to celebrate their worship on condition that they -would abstain from preaching about politics. Even the Jews, whose public -worship had, ever since the thirteenth century, been interdicted, were, -in spite of the strong opposition of jealous traders and fanatical -theologians, permitted to build a synagogue in London. - -The Protector’s foreign policy at the same time extorted the ungracious -approbation of those who most detested him. The Cavaliers could scarcely -refrain from wishing that one who had done so much to raise the fame of -the nation had been a legitimate king; and the Republicans were forced -to own that the tyrant suffered none but himself to wrong his country, -and that, if he had robbed her of liberty, he had at least given her -glory in exchange. After half a century during which England had been of -scarcely more weight in European politics than Venice or Saxony, she at -once became the most formidable power in the world, dictated terms of -peace to the United Provinces, avenged the common injuries of -Christendom on the pirates of Barbary, vanquished the Spaniards by land -and sea, seized one of the finest West Indian islands, and acquired on -the Flemish coast a fortress which consoled the national pride for the -loss of Calais. She was supreme on the ocean. She was the head of the -Protestant interest. All the reformed churches scattered over Roman -Catholic kingdoms acknowledged Cromwell as their guardian. The Huguenots -of Languedoc, the shepherds who, in the hamlets of the Alps, professed a -Protestantism older than that of Augsburg, were secured from oppression -by the mere terror of his great name. The Pope himself was forced to -preach humanity and moderation to popish princes. For a voice which -seldom threatened in vain had declared that, unless favor were shown to -the people of God, the English guns should be heard in the castle of -Saint Angelo. In truth, there was nothing which Cromwell had, for his -own sake and that of his family, so much reason to desire as a general -religious war in Europe. In such a war he must have been the captain of -the Protestant armies. The heart of England would have been with him. -His victories would have been hailed with a unanimous enthusiasm unknown -in the country since the rout of the Armada, and would have effaced the -stain which one act, condemned by the general voice of the nation, has -left on his splendid fame. Unhappily for him he had no opportunity of -displaying his admirable military talents, except against the -inhabitants of the British isles. - -While he lived his power stood firm, an object of mingled aversion, -admiration, and dread to his subjects. Few indeed loved his government; -but those who hated it most hated it less than they feared it. Had it -been a worse government, it might perhaps have been overthrown in spite -of all its strength. Had it been a weaker government, it would certainly -have been overthrown in spite of all its merits. But it had moderation -enough to abstain from those oppressions which drive men mad; and it had -a force and energy which none but men driven mad by oppression would -venture to encounter. - -It has often been affirmed, but with little reason, that Oliver died at -a time fortunate for his renown, and that, if his life had been -prolonged, it would probably have closed amid disgraces and disasters. -It is certain that he was, to the last, honored by his soldiers, obeyed -by the whole population of the British islands, and dreaded by all -foreign powers; that he was laid among the ancient sovereigns of England -with funeral pomp such as London had never before seen, and that he was -succeeded by his son Richard as quietly as any king had ever been -succeeded by any Prince of Wales. - - - - -LORD HALIFAX. - -BY THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. - - [George Savile, Marquis of Halifax, one of the most brilliant of - seventeenth century statesmen, born 1630, died 1695. He was a most - important figure in the reigns of Charles II, James II, and of - William III, and amid the dissensions and disturbances of the - period his sanity, moderation, and wisdom did much to assuage the - most dangerous party conflicts. Macaulay’s characterization of him - is among the noted historic portraits.] - - -Among the statesmen of those times Halifax was, in genius, the first. -His intellect was fertile, subtle, and capacious. His polished, -luminous, and animated eloquence, set off by the silver tones of his -voice, was the delight of the House of Lords. His conversation -overflowed with thought, fancy, and wit. His political tracts well -deserve to be studied for their literary merit, and fully entitle him to -a place among English classics. To the weight derived from talents so -great and various he united all the influence which belongs to rank and -ample possessions. Yet he was less successful in politics than many who -enjoy smaller advantages. Indeed, those intellectual peculiarities which -make his writings valuable frequently impeded him in the contests of -active life. For he always saw passing events, not in the point of view -in which they commonly appear to one who bears a part in them, but in -the point of view in which, after the lapse of many years, they appear -to the philosophic historian. With such a turn of mind, he could not -long continue to act cordially with any body of men. All the prejudices, -all the exaggerations, of both the great parties in the state moved his -scorn. He despised the mean arts and unreasonable clamors of demagogues. -He despised still more the doctrines of divine right and passive -obedience. He sneered impartially at the bigotry of the Churchman and at -the bigotry of the Puritan. - -He was equally unable to comprehend how any man should object to saints’ -days and surplices, and how any man should persecute any other man for -objecting to them. In temper he was what, in our time, is called a -Conservative, in theory he was a Republican. Even when his dread of -anarchy and his disdain for vulgar delusions led him to side for a time -with the defenders of arbitrary power, his intellect was always with -Locke and Milton. Indeed, his jests upon hereditary monarchy were -sometimes such as would have better become a member of the Calf’s Head -Club than a privy councilor of the Stuarts. In religion he was so far -from being a zealot that he was called by the uncharitable an atheist; -but this imputation he vehemently repelled; and in truth, though he -sometimes gave scandal by the way in which he exerted his rare powers -both of reasoning and of ridicule on serious subjects, he seems to have -been by no means unsusceptible of religious impressions. - -He was the chief of those politicians whom the two great parties -contemptuously called trimmers. Instead of quarreling with this -nickname, he assumed it as a title of honor, and vindicated, with great -vivacity, the dignity of the appellation. Everything good, he said, -trims between extremes. The temperate zone trims between the climate in -which men are roasted and the climate in which they are frozen. The -English Church trims between the Anabaptist madness and the Papist -lethargy. The English constitution trims between Turkish despotism and -Polish anarchy. Virtue is nothing but a just temper between propensities -any one of which, if indulged to excess, becomes vice. Nay, the -perfection of the Supreme Being himself consists in the exact -equilibrium of attributes, none of which could preponderate without -disturbing the whole moral and physical order of the world. - -Thus Halifax was a trimmer on principle. He was also a trimmer by the -constitution both of his head and of his heart. His understanding was -keen, skeptical, inexhaustibly fertile in distinctions and objections; -his taste refined; his sense of the ludicrous exquisite; his temper -placid and forgiving, but fastidious, and by no means prone either to -malevolence or to enthusiastic admiration. Such a man could not long be -constant to any band of political allies. He must not, however, be -confounded with the vulgar crowd of renegades. For though, like them, he -passed from side to side, his transition was always in the direction -opposite to theirs. He had nothing in common with those who fly from -extreme to extreme, and who regard the party which they have deserted -with an animosity far exceeding that of consistent enemies. His place -was on the debatable ground between the hostile divisions of the -community, and he never wandered far beyond the frontier of either. The -party to which he at any moment belonged was the party which, at that -moment, he liked least, because it was the party of which at that moment -he had the nearest view. He was, therefore, always severe upon his -violent associates, and was always in friendly relations with his -moderate opponents. Every faction in the day of its insolent and -vindictive triumph incurred his censure; and every faction, when -vanquished and persecuted, found in him a protector. To his lasting -honor it must be mentioned that he attempted to save those victims whose -fate has left the deepest stain both on the Whig and on the Tory name. - -He had greatly distinguished himself in opposition, and had thus drawn -on himself the royal displeasure, which was, indeed, so strong that he -was not admitted into the Council of Thirty without much difficulty and -long altercation. As soon, however, as he had obtained a footing at -court, the charms of his manner and of his conversation made him a -favorite. He was seriously alarmed by the violence of the public -discontent. He thought that liberty was for the present safe, and that -order and legitimate authority were in danger. He therefore, as was his -fashion, joined himself to the weaker side. Perhaps his conversion was -not wholly disinterested. For study and reflection, though they had -emancipated him from many vulgar prejudices, had left him a slave to -vulgar desires. Money he did not want; and there is no evidence that he -ever obtained it by any means which, in that age, even severe censors -considered as dishonorable; but rank and power had strong attractions -for him. He pretended, indeed, that he considered titles and great -offices as baits which could allure none but fools, that he hated -business, pomp, and pageantry, and that his dearest wish was to escape -from the bustle and glitter of Whitehall to the quiet woods which -surrounded his ancient mansion in Nottinghamshire; but his conduct was -not a little at variance with his professions. In truth he wished to -command the respect at once of courtiers and of philosophers, to be -admired for attaining high dignities, and to be at the same time admired -for despising them. - -More than one historian has been charged with partiality to Halifax. The -truth is that the memory of Halifax is entitled in an especial manner to -the protection of history. For what distinguishes him from all other -English statesmen is this, that through a long public life, and through -frequent and violent revolutions of public feeling, he almost invariably -took that view of the great questions of his time which history has -finally adopted. He was called inconstant, because the relative position -in which he stood to the contending factions was perpetually varying. As -well might the pole star be called inconstant because it is sometimes to -the east and sometimes to the west of the pointers. To have defended the -ancient and legal constitution of the realm against a seditious populace -at one conjuncture, and against a tyrannical government at another; to -have been the foremost champion of order in the turbulent Parliament of -1680, and the foremost champion of liberty in the servile Parliament of -1685; to have been just and merciful to Roman Catholics in the days of -the Popish Plot, and to Exclusionists in the days of the Rye House Plot; -to have done all in his power to save both the head of Strafford and the -head of Russell; this was a course which contemporaries, heated by -passion, and deluded by names and badges, might not unnaturally call -fickle, but which deserves a very different name from the late justice -of posterity. - - - - -LOUIS XIV OF FRANCE. - -BY THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. - - [Grandson of Henry IV, the greatest of the French Bourbon kings, - though he himself was also called Le Grand, or The Great. Born - 1638, died 1715. His reign was distinguished for the brilliant men - he gathered at his court and the unparalleled reverses which befell - his power and prosperity in his closing years.] - - -The reign of Louis XIV is the time to which ultra-royalists refer as the -golden age of France. It was, in truth, one of those periods which shine -with an unnatural and delusive splendor. Concerning Louis XIV himself, -the world seems at last to have formed a correct judgment. He was not a -great general; he was not a great statesman; but he was, in one sense of -the word, a great king. Never was there so consummate a master of what -our James I would have called kingcraft--of all those arts which most -advantageously display the merits of a prince and most completely hide -his defects. Though his internal administration was bad, though military -triumphs which gave splendor to the early part of his reign were not -achieved by himself, though his later years were crowded with defeats -and humiliations, though he was so ignorant that he scarcely understood -the Latin of his mass-book, though he fell under the control of a -cunning Jesuit and of a more cunning old woman, he succeeded in passing -himself off on his people as a being above humanity. - -And this is the more extraordinary, because he did not seclude himself -from the public gaze, like those Oriental despots whose faces are never -seen, and whose very names it is a crime to pronounce lightly. It has -been said that no man is a hero to his valet; and all the world saw as -much of Louis XIV as his valet could see. Five hundred people assembled -to see him shave and put on his breeches in the morning. He then knelt -down by the side of his bed and said his prayer, the ecclesiastics on -their knees and the laymen with their hats before their faces. He walked -about his garden with a train of two hundred courtiers at his heels. All -Versailles came to see him dine and sup. He was put to bed at night in -the midst of a crowd as great as that which had met to see him rise in -the morning. He took his very emetics in state, and vomited majestically -in the presence of all the _grandes_ and _petites entrées_. Yet, though -he constantly exposed himself to the public gaze in situations in which -it is scarcely possible for any man to preserve much personal dignity, -he to the last impressed those who surrounded him with deepest awe and -reverence. The illusion which he produced on his worshipers can be -compared only to those illusions to which lovers are proverbially -subject during the season of courtship; it was an illusion which -affected even the senses. - -The contemporaries of Louis thought him tall. Voltaire, who might have -seen him, and who had lived with some of the most distinguished members -of his court, speaks repeatedly of his majestic stature. Yet it is as -certain as any fact can be that he was rather below than above the -middle size. He had, it seems, a way of holding himself, a way of -walking, a way of swelling his chest and rearing his head, which -deceived the eyes of the multitude. Eighty years after his death the -royal cemetery was violated by the revolutionists; his coffin was -opened, his body was dragged out, and it appeared that the prince whose -majestic figure had been so extolled was, in truth, a little man. His -person and his government have had the same fate. He had the art of -making both appear grand and august, in spite of the clearest evidence -that both were below the ordinary standard. Death and time have exposed -both the deceptions. The body of the great king has been measured more -justly than it was measured by the courtiers who were afraid to look -above his shoe-tie. His public character has been scrutinized by men -free from the hopes and fears of Boileau and Molière. In the grave the -most majestic of princes is only five feet eight. In history the hero -and the politician dwindles into a vain and feeble tyrant, the slave of -priests and women; little in war, little in government, little in -everything but the art of simulating greatness. - -He left to his infant successor a famished and miserable people, a -beaten and humbled army, provinces turned into deserts by misgovernment -and persecution, factions dividing the court, a schism raging in the -Church, an immense debt, an empty treasury, immeasurable palaces, an -innumerable household, inestimable palaces and furniture. All the sap -and nutriment of the state seemed to have been drawn to feed one bloated -and unwholesome excrescence. The nation was withered. The court was -morbidly flourishing. Yet it does not appear that the associations which -attached the people to the monarchy had lost strength during his reign. -He had neglected or sacrificed their dearest interests, but he had -struck their imaginations. - - - - -WILLIAM III OF ENGLAND. - -BY THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY - - [William Henry of Nassau, Prince of Orange and Stadtholder of - Holland, born 1650, raised to the English throne as king consort - with Mary daughter of James II, in 1688, died 1702. One of the - ablest monarchs in English annals, his accession to the throne of - Great Britain was one of the turning points in modern history, and - effectually consummated those reforms in the English Constitution - inaugurated in the revolution of 1640.] - - -The place which William Henry, Prince of Orange-Nassau, occupies in the -history of England and of mankind is so great that it may be desirable -to portray with some minuteness the strong lineaments of his -character.[27] - -He was now in his thirty-seventh year. But both in body and in mind he -was older than other men of the same age. Indeed, it might be said that -he had never been young. His external appearance is almost as well known -to us as to his own captains and counselors. Sculptors, painters, and -medallists exerted their utmost skill in the work of transmitting his -features to posterity; and his features were such that no artist could -fail to seize, and such as, once seen, could never be forgotten. His -name at once calls up before us a slender and feeble frame, a lofty and -ample forehead, a nose curved like the beak of an eagle, an eye rivaling -that of an eagle in brightness and keenness, a thoughtful and somewhat -sullen brow, a firm and somewhat peevish mouth, a cheek pale, thin, and -deeply furrowed by sickness and by care. That pensive, severe, and -solemn aspect could scarcely have belonged to a happy or a good-humored -man. But it indicates in a manner not to be mistaken capacity equal to -the most arduous enterprises, and fortitude not to be shaken by reverses -or dangers. - -Nature had largely endowed William with the qualities of a great ruler, -and education had developed those qualities in no common degree. With -strong natural sense, and rare force of will, he found himself, when -first his mind began to open, a fatherless and motherless child, the -chief of a great but depressed and disheartened party, and the heir to -vast and indefinite pretensions, which excited the dread and aversion of -the oligarchy then supreme in the United Provinces. The common people, -fondly attached during three generations to his house, indicated, -whenever they saw him, in a manner not to be mistaken, that they -regarded him as their rightful head. The able and experienced ministers -of the republic, mortal enemies of his name, came every day to pay their -feigned civilities to him, and to observe the progress of his mind. The -first movements of his ambition were carefully watched; every unguarded -word uttered by him was noted down; nor had he near him any adviser on -whose judgment reliance could be placed. - -He was scarcely fifteen years old when all the domestics who were -attached to his interest, or who enjoyed any share of his confidence, -were removed from under his roof by the jealous government. He -remonstrated with energy beyond his years, but in vain. Vigilant -observers saw the tears more than once rise in the eyes of the young -state prisoner. His health, naturally delicate, sank for a time under -the emotions which his desolate situation had produced. Such situations -bewilder and unnerve the weak, but call forth all the strength of the -strong. Surrounded by snares in which an ordinary youth would have -perished, William learned to tread at once warily and firmly. Long -before he reached manhood he knew how to keep secrets, how to baffle -curiosity by dry and guarded answers; how to conceal all passions under -the same show of grave tranquillity. Meanwhile he made little -proficiency in fashionable or literary accomplishments. The manners of -the Dutch nobility of that age wanted the grace which was found in the -highest perfection among the gentlemen of France, and which, in an -inferior degree, embellished the court of England; and his manners were -altogether Dutch. Even his countrymen thought him blunt. To foreigners -he often seemed churlish. In his intercourse with the world in general -he appeared ignorant or negligent of those arts which double the value -of a favor and take away the sting of a refusal. He was little -interested in letters or science. The discoveries of Newton and -Liebnitz, the poems of Dryden and Boileau, were unknown to him. Dramatic -performances tired him, and he was glad to turn away from the stage and -to talk about public affairs, while Orestes was raving, or while -Tartuffe was pressing Elmira’s hand. - -He had, indeed, some talent for sarcasm, and not seldom employed, quite -unconsciously, a natural rhetoric, quaint, indeed, but vigorous and -original. He did not, however, in the least affect the character of a -wit or of an orator. His attention had been confined to those studies -which form strenuous and sagacious men of business. From a child he -listened with interest when high questions of alliance, finance, and war -were discussed. Of geometry he learned as much as was necessary for the -construction of a ravelin or a horn-work. Of languages, by the help of a -memory singularly powerful, he learned as much as was necessary to -enable him to comprehend and answer without assistance everything that -was said to him and every letter which he received. The Dutch was his -own tongue. With the French he was not less familiar. He understood -Latin, Italian, and Spanish. He spoke and wrote English and German, -inelegantly, it is true, and inexactly, but fluently and intelligibly. -No qualification could be more important to a man whose life was to be -passed in organizing great alliances, and in commanding armies assembled -from different countries. - -The faculties which are necessary for the conduct of important business -ripened in him at a time of life when they have scarcely begun to -blossom in ordinary men. Since Octavius the world had seen no such -instance of precocious statesmanship. Skillful diplomatists were -surprised to hear the weighty observations which at seventeen the prince -made on public affairs, and still more surprised to see a lad, in -situations in which he might have been expected to betray strong -passion, preserve a composure as imperturbable as their own. At eighteen -he sat among the fathers of the commonwealth--grave, discreet, and -judicious as the oldest among them. At twenty-one, in a day of gloom and -terror, he was placed at the head of the administration. At twenty-three -he was renowned throughout Europe as a soldier and a politician. He had -put domestic factions under his feet; he was the soul of a mighty -coalition; and he had contended with honor in the field against some of -the greatest generals of the age. - -His personal tastes were those rather of a warrior than of a statesman, -but he, like his great-grandfather, the silent prince who founded the -Batavian commonwealth, occupies a far higher place among statesmen than -among warriors. The event of battles, indeed, is not an unfailing test -of the abilities of a commander; and it would be peculiarly unjust to -apply this test to William, for it was his fortune to be almost always -opposed to captains who were consummate masters of their art, and to -troops far superior in discipline to his own. Yet there is reason to -believe that he was by no means equal, as a general in the field, to -some who ranked far below him in intellectual powers. To those whom he -trusted he spoke on this subject with the magnanimous frankness of a man -who had done great things, and could well afford to acknowledge some -deficiencies. He had never, he said, served an apprenticeship to the -military profession. He had been placed, while still a boy, at the head -of an army. Among his officers there had been none competent to instruct -him. His own blunders and their consequences had been his only lessons. -“I would give,” he once exclaimed, “a good part of my estates to have -served a few campaigns under the Prince of Condé before I had to command -against him.” - -It is not improbable that the circumstance which prevented William from -attaining any eminent dexterity in strategy may have been favorable to -the general vigor of his intellect. If his battles were not those of a -great tactician, they entitled him to be called a great man. No disaster -could for one moment deprive him of his firmness or of the entire -possession of all his faculties. His defeats were repaired with such -marvelous celerity that, before his enemies had sung the Te Deum, he was -again ready for the conflict; nor did his adverse fortune ever deprive -him of the respect and confidence of his soldiers. That respect and -confidence he owed in no small measure to his personal courage. Courage, -in the degree which is necessary to carry a soldier without disgrace -through a campaign, is possessed, or might, under proper training, be -acquired by the great majority of men. But courage like that of William -is rare indeed. He was proved by every test; by war, by wounds, by -painful and depressing maladies, by raging seas, by the imminent and -constant risk of assassination--a risk which has shaken very strong -nerves, a risk which severely tried even the adamantine fortitude of -Cromwell. Yet none could ever discover what that thing was which the -Prince of Orange feared. His advisers could with difficulty induce him -to take any precaution against the pistols and daggers of conspirators. -Old sailors were amazed at the composure which he preserved amid roaring -breakers on a perilous coast. In battle his bravery made him conspicuous -even among tens of thousands of brave warriors, drew forth the generous -applause of hostile armies, and was scarcely ever questioned even by the -injustice of hostile factions. - -During his first campaigns he exposed himself like a man who sought for -death, was always foremost in the charge and last in the retreat, fought -sword in hand, in the thickest press, and with a musket ball in his arm -and the blood streaming over his cuirass, still stood his ground and -waved his hat under the hottest fire. His friends adjured him to take -more care of a life invaluable to his country; and his most illustrious -antagonist, the great Condé, remarked, after the bloody day of Seneff, -that the Prince of Orange had in all things borne himself like an old -general, except in exposing himself like a young soldier. William denied -that he was guilty of temerity. It was, he said, from a sense of duty -and on a cool calculation of what the public interest required, that he -was always at the post of danger. The troops which he commanded had been -little used to war, and shrank from a close encounter with the veteran -soldiery of France. It was necessary that their leader should show them -how battles were to be won. And in truth more than one day which had -seemed hopelessly lost was retrieved by the hardihood with which he -rallied his broken battalions and cut down the cowards who set the -example of flight. Sometimes, however, it seemed that he had a strange -pleasure in venturing his person. It was remarked that his spirits were -never so high and his manners never so gracious and easy as amid the -tumult and carnage of a battle. Even in his pastimes he liked the -excitement of danger. Cards, chess, and billiards gave him no pleasure. -The chase was his favorite recreation, and he loved it most when it was -most hazardous. His leaps were sometimes such that his boldest -companions did not like to follow him. He seemed to have thought the -most hardy field sports of England effeminate, and to have pined in the -great park of Windsor for the game which he had been used to drive to -bay in the forests of Guelders--wolves and wild boars, and huge stags -with sixteen antlers. - -The audacity of his spirit was the more remarkable because his physical -organization was unusually delicate. From a child he had been weak and -sickly. In the prime of manhood his complaints had been aggravated by a -severe attack of small-pox. He was asthmatic and consumptive. His -slender frame was shaken by a constant hoarse cough. He could not sleep -unless his head was propped by several pillows, and could scarcely draw -his breath in any but the purest air. Cruel headaches frequently -tortured him. Exertion soon fatigued him. The physicians constantly kept -up the hopes of his enemies by fixing some date beyond which, if there -were anything certain in medical science, it was impossible that his -broken constitution could hold out. Yet, through a life which was one -long disease, the force of his mind never failed, on any great occasion, -to bear up his suffering and languid body. - -He was born with violent passions and quick sensibilities; but the -strength of his emotions was not suspected by the world. From the -multitude his joy and his grief, his affection and his resentment, were -hidden by a phlegmatic serenity which made him pass for the most -coldblooded of mankind. Those who brought him good news could seldom -detect any sign of pleasure. Those who saw him after a defeat looked in -vain for any trace of vexation. He praised and reprimanded, rewarded and -punished, with the stern tranquillity of a Mohawk chief; but those who -knew him well and saw him near were aware that under all this ice a -fierce fire was constantly burning. It was seldom that anger deprived -him of power over himself; but when he was really enraged the first -outbreak of his passion was terrible. It was, indeed, scarcely safe to -approach him. On these rare occasions, however, as soon as he regained -his self-command he made such ample reparation to those whom he had -wronged as tempted them to wish that he would go into a fury again. His -affection was as impetuous as his wrath. Where he loved, he loved with -the whole energy of his strong mind. When death separated him from what -he loved, the few who witnessed his agonies trembled for his reason and -his life. To a very small circle of intimate friends, on whose fidelity -and secrecy he could absolutely depend, he was a different man from the -reserved and stoical William whom the multitude supposed to be destitute -of human feelings. He was kind, cordial, open, even convivial and -jocose, would sit at table many hours, and would bear his full share in -festive conversation. - -To him England was always a land of exile, visited with reluctance, and -quitted with delight. Even when he rendered to her those services of -which to this day we feel the happy effects, her welfare was not his -chief object. Whatever patriotic feeling he had was for Holland. There -was the stately tomb where slept the great politician whose blood, whose -name, whose temperament, and whose genius he had inherited. There the -very sound of his title was a spell which had, through three -generations, called forth the affectionate enthusiasm of boors and -artisans. The Dutch language was the language of his nursery. Among the -Dutch gentry he had chosen his early friends. The amusements, the -architecture, the landscape of his native country had taken hold on his -heart. To her he turned with constant fondness from a prouder and fairer -rival. In the gallery of Whitehall he pined for the familiar House in -the Wood at the Hague, and never was so happy as when he could quit the -magnificence of Windsor for his far humbler seat at Loo. - -During his splendid banishment it was his consolation to create around -him, by building, planting, and digging, a scene which might remind him -of the formal piles of red brick, of the long canals, and of the -symmetrical flower-beds among which his early life had been passed. Yet -even his affection for the land of his birth was subordinate to another -feeling which early became supreme in his soul, which mixed itself with -all his passions, which impelled him to marvelous enterprises, which -supported him when sinking under mortification, pain, sickness, and -sorrow, which, toward the close of his career, seemed during a short -time to languish, but which soon broke forth again fiercer than ever, -and continued to animate him even while the prayer for the departing was -read at his bedside. That feeling was enmity to France, and to the -magnificent king who, in more than one sense, represented France, and -who to virtues and accomplishments eminently French joined in large -measure that unquiet, unscrupulous, and vainglorious ambition which has -repeatedly drawn on France the resentment of Europe. - -It is not difficult to trace the progress of the sentiment which -gradually possessed itself of William’s whole soul. When he was little -more than a boy his country had been attacked by Lewis in ostentatious -defiance of justice and public law, had been overrun, had been -desolated, had been given up to every excess of rapacity, -licentiousness, and cruelty. The Dutch had in dismay humbled themselves -before the conqueror, and had implored mercy. They had been told in -reply that, if they desired peace, they must resign their independence, -and do annual homage to the House of Bourbon. The injured nation, -driven to despair, had opened its dykes, and had called in the sea as an -ally against the French tyranny. It was in the agony of that conflict, -when peasants were flying in terror before the invaders, when hundreds -of fair gardens and pleasure-houses were buried beneath the waves, when -the deliberations of the States were interrupted by the fainting and the -loud weeping of ancient senators who could not bear the thought of -surviving the freedom and glory of their native land, that William had -been called to the head of affairs. - -The French monarchy was to him what the Roman republic was to Hannibal, -what the Ottoman power was to Scanderbeg, what the Southron domination -was to Wallace. Religion gave her sanction to that intense and -unquenchable animosity. Hundreds of Calvinistic preachers proclaimed -that the same power which had set apart Samson from the womb to be the -scourge of the Philistine, and which had called Gideon from the -threshing-floor to smite the Midianite, had raised up William of Orange -to be the champion of all free nations and of all pure Churches; nor was -this notion without influence on his own mind. To the confidence which -the heroic fatalist placed in his high destiny and in his sacred cause -is to be partly attributed his singular indifference to danger. He had a -great work to do; and till it was done nothing could harm him. Therefore -it was that, in spite of the prognostications of physicians, he -recovered from maladies which seemed hopeless, that bands of assassins -conspired in vain against his life, that the open skiff to which he -trusted himself on a starless night, amid raging waves, and near a -treacherous shore, brought him safe to land, and that, on twenty fields -of battle, the cannon balls passed him by to right and left. The ardor -and perseverance with which he devoted himself to his mission have -scarcely any parallel in history. - -[Illustration: PETER THE GREAT.] - - - - -PETER THE GREAT, CZAR OF RUSSIA. - -BY THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. - - [Creator of the modern Russian empire, born 1672; died 1725. - Shortly after assuming the throne of a nation of barbarians, and - vigorously repressing internal disturbances, he began that series - of reforms by which he hoped to civilize his people. He spent - seventeen months traveling and studying the arts and sciences, - which had made other nations great. On returning to Russia he - enforced many revolutionary changes with the strictness of a - despot, and introduced institutions before unknown to Russia. He - built St. Petersburg in the marshes at the mouth of the Neva, and - displayed extraordinary energy in recasting the whole military and - civil polity of the nation. He displayed marked ability as a - soldier in his wars with his neighbors, but his genius shone most - brightly in civil administration, though he never ceased to be a - barbarian and the sternest of despots.] - - -Our ancestors were not a little surprised to learn that a young -barbarian, who had, at seventeen years of age, become the autocrat of -the immense region stretching from the confines of Sweden to those of -China, and whose education had been inferior to that of an English -farmer or shopman, had planned gigantic improvements, had learned enough -of some languages of Western Europe to enable him to communicate with -civilized men, had begun to surround himself with able adventurers from -various parts of the world, had sent many of his young subjects to study -languages, arts, and sciences in foreign cities, and finally had -determined to travel as a private man, and to discover, by personal -observation, the secret of the immense prosperity and power enjoyed by -some communities whose whole territory was far less than the hundredth -part of his dominions. - -It might have been expected that France would have been the first object -of his curiosity. For the grace and dignity of the French Court, the -splendor of the French Court, the discipline of the French armies, and -the genius and learning of the French writers, were then renowned all -over the world. But the Czar’s mind had early taken a strange ply which -it retained to the last. His empire was of all empires the least capable -of being made a great naval power. The Swedish provinces lay between his -states and the Baltic. The Bosphorus and the Dardanelles lay between his -states and the Mediterranean. He had access to the ocean only in a -latitude in which navigation is, during a great part of every year, -perilous and difficult. On the ocean he had only a single port, -Archangel; and the whole shipping of Archangel was foreign. There did -not exist a Russian vessel larger than a fishing boat. Yet, from some -cause which can not now be traced, he had a taste for maritime pursuits -which amounted to a passion, indeed almost to a monomania. His -imagination was full of sails, yardarms, and rudders. That large mind, -equal to the highest duties of the general and the statesman, contracted -itself to the most minute details of naval architecture and naval -discipline. - -The chief ambition of the great conqueror and legislator was to be a -good boatswain and a good ship’s carpenter. Holland and England -therefore had for him an attraction which was wanting to the galleries -and terraces of Versailles. He repaired to Amsterdam, took a lodging in -the dockyard, assumed the garb of a pilot, put down his name on the list -of workmen, wielded with his own hand the caulking iron and the mallet, -fixed the pumps, and twisted the ropes. Ambassadors who came to pay -their respects to him were forced, much against their will, to clamber -up the rigging of a man-of-war, and found him enthroned on the -cross-trees. - -Such was the prince whom the populace of London now crowded to behold. -His stately form, his intellectual forehead, his piercing black eye, his -Tartar nose and mouth, his gracious smile, his frown black with all the -stormy rage and hate of a barbarian tyrant, and above all a strange -nervous convulsion which sometimes transformed his countenance, during -a few moments, into an object on which it was impossible to look without -terror, the immense quantities of meat which he devoured, the pints of -brandy which he swallowed, and which, it was said, he had carefully -distilled with his own hands, the fool who jabbered at his feet, the -monkey which grinned at the back of his chair, were, during some weeks, -popular topics of conversation. He meanwhile shunned the public gaze -with a haughty shyness which inflamed curiosity. He went to a play; but -as soon as he perceived that pit, boxes, and gallery were staring, not -at the stage, but at him, he retired to a back bench where he was -screened from observation by his attendants. He was desirous to see a -sitting of the House of Lords; but, as he was determined not to be seen, -he was forced to climb up to the leads, and to peep through a small -window. He heard with great interest the royal assent given to a bill -for raising fifteen hundred thousand pounds by land-tax, and learned -with amazement that this sum, though larger by one half than the whole -revenue which he could wring from the population of the immense empire -of which he was absolute master, was but a small part of what the -Commons of England voluntarily granted every year to their -constitutional king. - -William judiciously humored the whims of his illustrious guest, and -stole to Norfolk Street so quietly that nobody in the neighborhood -recognized his Majesty in the thin gentleman who got out of the -modest-looking coach at the czar’s lodgings. The czar returned the visit -with the same precautions, and was admitted into Kensington House by a -back door. It was afterward known that he took no notice of the fine -pictures with which the palace was adorned. But over the chimney of the -royal sitting-room was a plate which, by an ingenious machinery, -indicated the direction of the wind, and with this plate he was in -raptures. - -He soon became weary of his residence. He found that he was too far -from the objects of his curiosity, and too near to the crowds to which -he was himself an object of curiosity. He accordingly removed to -Deptford, and was there lodged in the house of John Evelyn, a house -which had long been a favorite resort of men of letters, men of taste, -and men of science. Here Peter gave himself up to his favorite pursuits. -He navigated a yacht every day up and down the river. His apartment was -crowded with models of three-deckers and two-deckers, frigates, sloops, -and fire-ships. The only Englishman of rank in whose society he seemed -to take much pleasure was the eccentric Caermarthen, whose passion for -the sea bore some resemblance to his own, and who was very competent to -give an opinion about every part of a ship from the stem to the stern. -Caermarthen, indeed, became so great a favorite that he prevailed on the -czar to consent to the admission of a limited quantity of tobacco into -Russia. There was reason to apprehend that the Russian clergy would cry -out against any relaxation of the ancient rule, and would strenuously -maintain that the practice of smoking was condemned by that text which -declares that man is defiled, not by those things which enter in at the -mouth, but by those things which proceed out of it. This apprehension -was expressed by a deputation of merchants who were admitted to an -audience of the czar; but they were reassured by the air with which he -told them that he knew how to keep priests in order. - -He was indeed so free from any bigoted attachment to the religion in -which he had been brought up that both Papists and Protestants hoped at -different times to make him a proselyte. Burnet, commissioned by his -brethren, and impelled, no doubt, by his own restless curiosity and love -of meddling, repaired to Deptford and was honored with several -audiences. The czar could not be persuaded to exhibit himself at St. -Paul’s, but he was induced to visit Lambeth Palace. There he saw the -ceremony of ordination performed, and expressed warm approbation of the -Anglican ritual. Nothing in England astonished him so much as the -archiepiscopal library. It was the first good collection of books that -he had seen; and he declared that he had never imagined that there were -so many printed volumes in the world. - -The impression which he made on Burnet was not favorable. The good -bishop could not understand that a mind which seemed to be chiefly -occupied with questions about the best place for a capstan and the best -way of rigging a jury-mast might be capable, not merely of ruling an -empire, but of creating a nation. He claimed that he had gone to see a -great prince, and had found only an industrious shipwright. Nor does -Evelyn seem to have formed a much more favorable opinion of his august -tenant. It was, indeed, not in the character of tenant that the czar was -likely to gain the good word of civilized men. With all the high -qualities which were peculiar to himself, he had all the filthy habits -which were then common among his countrymen. To the end of his life, -while disciplining armies, founding schools, framing codes, organizing -tribunals, building cities in deserts, joining distant seas by -artificial rivers, he lived in his palace like a hog in a sty; and, when -he was entertained by other sovereigns, never failed to leave on their -tapestried walls and velvet state beds unequivocal proof that a savage -had been there. Evelyn’s house was left in such a state that the -Treasury quieted his complaints with a considerable sum of money. - -Toward the close of March the czar visited Portsmouth, saw a sham -sea-fight at Spithead, watched every movement of the contending fleets -with intense interest, and expressed in warm terms his gratitude to the -hospitable government which had provided so delightful a spectacle for -his amusement and instruction. After passing more than three months in -England, he departed in high good-humor. - - - - -DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. - -BY WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY. - - [John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, born 1650, died 1722. All his - early fortunes were due to the favor of James II, but he deserted - his patron, and his intrigues carried over a large following of the - English nobility to the cause of the Prince of Orange. For this he - was rewarded with the dukedom of Marlborough. Politically - Marlborough was a traitor to nearly every cause he served, and was - continually plotting to undermine William as he had done in the - case of James. To Anne, under whom he reaped his great military - glory, though he had distinguished himself at an earlier period, he - was probably loyal. The victories which established his place among - the leading soldiers of modern times were Blenheim, in 1704; - Ramillies, in 1706; Oudenarde, in 1708; Malplaquet, in 1709; and - the capture of Bouchain, in 1711. He achieved eminence as a - statesman and administrator as well as a soldier, but it is in the - latter capacity that he ranks among the great men of the world.] - - -Beyond comparison the greatest of English generals, Marlborough raised -his country to a height of military glory such as it had never attained -since the days of Poitiers and of Agincourt, and his victories appeared -all the more dazzling after the ignominious reigns of the last two -Stuarts, and after the many failures that checkered the enterprises of -William. His military genius, though once bitterly decried by party -malignity, will now be universally acknowledged, and it was sufficient -to place him among the greatest captains who have ever lived. Hardly any -other modern general combined to an equal degree the three great -attributes of daring, caution, and sagacity, or conducted military -enterprises of equal magnitude and duration without losing a single -battle or failing in a single siege. He was one of the very few -commanders who appear to have shown equal skill in directing a campaign, -in winning a battle, and in improving a victory. It can not, indeed, be -said of him, as it may be said of Frederick the Great, that he was at -the head of a small power, with almost all Europe in arms against it, -and that nearly every victory he won was snatched from an army -enormously outnumbering his own. At Blenheim and Oudenarde the French -exceeded by a few thousands the armies of the allies. At Ramillies the -army of Marlborough was slightly superior. At Malplaquet the opposing -forces were almost equal. Nor did the circumstances of Marlborough admit -of a military career of the same brilliancy, variety, and magnitude of -enterprise as that of Napoleon. - -But both Frederick and Napoleon experienced crushing disasters, and both -of them had some advantages which Marlborough did not possess. Frederick -was the absolute ruler of a state which had for many years been governed -exclusively on the military principle, in which the first and almost the -sole object of the government had been to train and discipline the -largest and most perfect army the nation could support. Napoleon was the -absolute ruler of the foremost military power on the Continent at a time -when the enthusiasm of a great revolution had given it an unparalleled -energy, when the destruction of the whole hierarchy of rank and the -opening of all posts to talent had brought an extraordinary amount of -ability to the forefront, and when the military administrations of -surrounding nations were singularly decrepit and corrupt. Marlborough, -on the other hand, commanded armies consisting in a great degree of -confederates and mercenaries of many different nationalities, and under -many different rulers. He was thwarted at every step by political -obstacles, and by the much graver obstacles arising from divided command -and personal or national jealousies; he contended against the first -military nation of the Continent, at a time when its military -organization had attained the highest perfection, and when a long -succession of brilliant wars had given it a school of officers of -consummate skill. - -But great as were his military gifts, they would have been insufficient -had they not been allied with other qualities well fitted to win the -admiration of men. Adam Smith has said, with scarcely an exaggeration, -that “it is a characteristic almost peculiar to the great Duke of -Marlborough, that ten years of such uninterrupted and such splendid -successes as scarce any other general could boast of, never betrayed him -into a single rash action, scarcely into a single rash word or -expression.” Nothing in his career is more admirable than the unwearied -patience, the inimitable skill, the courtesy, the tact, the self-command -with which he employed himself during many years in reconciling the -incessant differences, overcoming the incessant opposition, and soothing -the incessant jealousies of those with whom he was compelled to -co-operate. His private correspondence abundantly shows how gross was -the provocation he endured, how keenly he felt it, how nobly he bore it. - -As a negotiator he ranks with the most skillful diplomatists of his age, -and it was no doubt his great tact in managing men that induced his old -rival Bolingbroke, in one of his latest writings, to describe him as not -only the greatest general, but also “the greatest minister our country -or any other has produced.” Chesterfield, while absurdly depreciating -his intellect, admitted that “his manner was irresistible,” and he added -that, of all men he had ever known, Marlborough “possessed the graces in -the highest degree.” Nor was his character without its softer side. -Though he can not, I think, be acquitted of a desire to prolong war in -the interests of his personal or political ambition, it is at least true -that no general ever studied more, by admirable discipline and by -uniform humanity, to mitigate its horrors. Very few friendships among -great political or military leaders have been as constant or as -unclouded by any shade of jealousy as the friendship between Marlborough -and Godolphin, and between Marlborough and Eugene. - -His conjugal fidelity, in a time of great laxity and under temptations -and provocations of no common order, was beyond reproach. His attachment -to the Church of England was at one time the great obstacle to his -advancement. It appears never to have wavered through all the -vicissitudes of his life; and no one who reads his most private letters -with candor can fail to perceive that a certain vein of genuine piety -ran through his nature, however inconsistent it may appear with some -portions of his career. - -Yet it may be questioned whether, even in the zenith of his fame, he was -really popular. He had grave vices, and they were precisely of that kind -which is most fatal to public men. His extreme rapacity in acquiring and -his extreme avarice in hoarding money contrasted forcibly with the -lavish generosity of Ormond, and alone gave weight to the charges of -peculation that were brought against him. It is true that this, like all -his passions, was under control. Torcy soon found that it was useless to -attempt to bribe him, and he declined, as we have seen, with little -hesitation, the enormously lucrative post of governor of the Austrian -Netherlands when he found that the appointment aroused the strong and -dangerous hostility of the Dutch. In these cases his keen and far-seeing -judgment perceived clearly his true interest, and he had sufficient -resolution to follow it. Yet still, like many men who have risen from -great poverty to great wealth, avarice was the passion of his life, and -the rapacity both of himself and of his wife was insatiable. Besides -immense grants from Blenheim and marriage portions given by the queen to -their daughters, they at one time received between them an annual income -of public money of more than sixty-four thousand pounds. - -Nor can he be acquitted of very gross and aggravated treachery to those -he served. It is, indeed, not easy to form a fair estimate in this -respect of the conduct of public men at the period of the revolution. -Historians rarely make sufficient allowance for the degree in which the -judgments and dispositions even of the best men are colored by the -moral tone of the age, society, or profession in which they live, or for -the temptations of men of great genius and of natural ambition in times -when no highly scrupulous man could possibly succeed in public life. -Marlborough struggled into greatness from a very humble position, in one -of the most profligate periods of English politics, and he lived through -a long period when the ultimate succession of the crown was very -doubtful. A very large proportion of the leading statesmen during this -long season of suspense made such overtures to the deposed dynasty as -would at least secure them from absolute ruin in the event of a change, -and their conduct is surely susceptible of much palliation. - -The apparent interests and the apparent wishes of the nation hung so -evenly and oscillated so frequently that strong convictions were rare, -and even good men might often be in doubt. But the obligations of -Churchill to James were of no common order, and his treachery was of no -common dye. He had been raised by the special favor of his sovereign -from the position of a page to the peerage, to great wealth, to high -command in the army. He had been trusted by him with the most absolute -trust. He not only abandoned him in the crisis of his fate, with -circumstances of the most deliberate and aggravated treachery, but also -employed his influence over the daughter of his benefactor to induce her -to fly from her father and to array herself with his enemies. Such -conduct, if it had indeed been dictated, as he alleged, solely by a -regard for the interests of Protestantism, would have been certainly, in -the words of Hume, “a signal sacrifice to public virtue of every duty in -private life”; and it “required ever after the most upright, -disinterested, and public-spirited behavior, to render it justifiable.” -How little the later career of Marlborough fulfilled this condition is -well known. - -When we find that, having been loaded under the new Government with -titles, honors, and wealth, having been placed in the inner council and -intrusted with the most important state secrets, he was one of the -first Englishmen to enter into negotiations with St. Germain’s; that he -purchased his pardon from James by betraying important military secrets -to the enemies of his country, and that, during a great part of his -subsequent career, while holding office under the Government, he was -secretly negotiating with the Pretender, it is difficult not to place -the worst construction upon his public life. It is probable, indeed, -that his negotiations with the Jacobites were never sincere, that he had -no real desire for a restoration, and that his guiding motive was much -less ambition than a desire to secure what he possessed; but these -considerations only slightly palliate his conduct. At the period of his -downfall his later acts of treason were for the most part unknown, but -his conduct toward James weighed heavily upon his reputation, and his -intercourse with the Pretender, though not proved, was at least -suspected by many. Neither Hanoverians nor Jacobites trusted him, -neither Whigs nor Tories could regard him without reserve as their own. - -And with this feeling of distrust there was mingled a strong element of -fear. In the latter years of Queen Anne the shadow of Cromwell fell -darkly across the path of Marlborough. To those who prefer the violent -methods of a reforming despotism to the slow process of parliamentary -amelioration, to those who despise the wisdom of following public -opinion and respecting the prejudices and the associations of a nation, -there can be no better lesson than is furnished by the history of -Cromwell. Of his high and commanding abilities it is not here necessary -to speak, nor yet of the traits of magnanimity that may, no doubt, be -found in his character. Everything that great genius and the most -passionate sympathy could do to magnify these has in this century been -done, and a long period of unqualified depreciation has been followed by -a reaction of extravagant eulogy. - -But the more the qualities of the man are exalted the more significant -are the lessons of his life. Despising the national sentiment of -loyalty, he and his party dethroned and beheaded the king. Despising the -ecclesiastical sentiment, they destroyed the Church. Despising the deep -reverence for the constitution, they subverted the Parliament. Despising -the oldest and most cherished customs of the people, they sought to mold -the whole social life of England in the die of an austere Puritanism. -They seemed for a time to have succeeded, but the result soon appeared. -Republican equality was followed by the period of most obsequious, -servile loyalty England has ever known. The age when every amusement was -denounced as a crime was followed by the age when all virtue was treated -as hypocrisy, and when the sense of shame seemed to have almost vanished -from the land. The prostration of the Church was followed, with the full -approbation of the bulk of the nation, by the bitter, prolonged -persecution of Dissenters. The hated memory of the Commonwealth was for -more than a century appealed to by every statesman who desired to -prevent reform or discredit liberty, and the name of Cromwell gathered -around it an intensity of hatred approached by no other in the history -of England. This was the single sentiment common in all its vehemence to -the Episcopalians of England, the Presbyterians of Scotland, and the -Catholics of Ireland, and it had more than once considerable political -effects. The profound horror of military despotism, which is one of the -strongest and most salutary of English sentiments, has been, perhaps, -the most valuable legacy of the Commonwealth. In Marlborough, for the -first time since the restoration, men saw a possible Cromwell, and they -looked forward with alarm to the death of the queen as a period -peculiarly propitious to military usurpation. Bolingbroke never -represented more happily the feelings of the people than in the -well-known scene at the first representation of the “Cato” of Addison. -Written by a great Whig writer, the play was intended to advocate Whig -sentiments; but when the Whig audience had made the theatre ring with -applause at every speech on the evil of despotism and arbitrary -principles, the Tory leader availed himself of the pause between the -acts to summon the chief actor, to present him with a purse of money, -and to thank him publicly for having defended the cause of liberty so -well against a perpetual military dictator. - - - - -SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. - -BY WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY. - - [Afterward Earl of Orford, born 1676, died 1745; one of the most - powerful forces in the history of English politics. Without - brilliancy of talent, and utterly corrupt both as man and - statesman, he was in many ways a patriot and a far-sighted - supporter of the best interests of his country. He was first made - prime minister in 1715, and in 1717 brought forward a scheme for - the reduction of the public debt, which may be regarded as the - earliest germ of a national sinking fund. After the accession of - George II he became the foremost political figure of his time, and - kept his position against all attacks by great political dexterity - and the favor of Queen Caroline. He held the premiership for - twenty-one years, and was the first of the great English finance - ministers.] - - -It is worthy of notice that the long ascendency of Walpole was in no -degree owing to any extraordinary brilliancy of eloquency. He was a -clear and forcible reasoner, ready in reply, and peculiarly successful -in financial exposition, but he had little or nothing of the temperament -or the talent of an orator. It is the custom of some writers to decry -parliamentary institutions as being simply government by talking, and to -assert that when they exist mere rhetorical skill will always be more -valued than judgment, knowledge, or character. The enormous exaggeration -of such charges may be easily established. It is, no doubt, inevitable -that where business is transacted chiefly by debate, the talent of a -debater should be highly prized; but it is perfectly untrue that -British legislatures have shown less skill than ordinary sovereigns in -distinguishing solid talent from mere showy accomplishments, or that -parliamentary weight has in England been usually proportioned to -oratorical power. - -St. John was a far greater orator than Harley; Pulteney was probably a -greater orator than Walpole; Stanley in mere rhetorical skill was -undoubtedly the superior of Peel. Godolphin, Pelham, Castlereagh, -Liverpool, Melbourne, Althorpe, Wellington, Lord J. Russell, and Lord -Palmerston are all examples of men who, either as statesmen or as -successful leaders of the House of Commons, have taken a foremost place -in English politics without any oratorical brilliancy. Sheridan, -Plunket, and Brougham, though orators of almost the highest class, left -no deep impression on English public life; the ascendancy of Grey and -Canning was very transient, and no Opposition since the early Hanoverian -period sank so low as that which was guided by Fox. The two Pitts and -Mr. Gladstone are the three examples of speakers of transcendent power -exercising for a considerable time a commanding influence over English -politics. The younger Pitt is, I believe, a real instance of a man whose -solid ability bore no kind of proportion to his oratorical skill, and -who, by an almost preternatural dexterity in debate, accompanied by -great decision of character, and assisted by the favor of the king, by -the magic of an illustrious name, and by a great national panic, -maintained an authority immensely greater than his deserts. But in this -respect he stands alone. The pinnacle of glory to which the elder Pitt -raised his country is a sufficient proof of the almost unequaled -administrative genius which he displayed in the conduct of a war; and in -the sphere of domestic policy it may be questioned whether any other -English minister since the accession of the house of Brunswick has -carried so many measures of magnitude and difficulty or exhibited so -perfect a mastery over the financial system of the country as the great -living statesman. - -The qualities of Walpole were very different, but it is impossible, I -think, to consider his career with adequate attention without -recognizing in him a great minister, although the merits of his -administration were often rather negative than positive, and although it -exhibits few of those dramatic incidents, and is but little susceptible -of that rhetorical coloring on which the reputation of statesmen largely -depends. - -Without any remarkable originality of thought or creative genius, he -possessed in a high degree one quality of a great statesman--the power -of judging new and startling events in the moments of excitement or of -panic as they would be judged by ordinary men when the excitement, the -novelty, and the panic had passed. He was eminently true to the -character of his countrymen. He discerned with a rare sagacity the lines -of policy most suited to their genius and to their needs, and he had a -sufficient ascendency in English politics to form its traditions, to -give a character and a bias to its institutions. The Whig party, under -his guidance, retained, though with diminished energy, its old love of -civil and of religious liberty, but it lost its foreign sympathies, its -tendency to extravagance, its military restlessness. The landed gentry, -and in a great degree the Church, were reconciled to the new dynasty. -The dangerous fissures which divided the English nation were filled up. -Parliamentary government lost its old violence, it entered into a period -of normal and pacific action, and the habits of compromise, of -moderation, and of practical good sense, which are most essential to its -success, were greatly strengthened. - -These were the great merits of Walpole. His faults were very manifest, -and are to be attributed in part to his own character, but in a great -degree to the moral atmosphere of his time. He was an honest man in the -sense of desiring sincerely the welfare of his country and serving his -sovereign with fidelity; but he was intensely wedded to power, -exceedingly unscrupulous about the means of grasping or retaining it, -and entirely destitute of that delicacy of honor which marks a -high-minded man. In the opinion of most of his contemporaries, Townshend -and Walpole had good reason to complain of the intrigues by which -Sunderland and Stanhope obtained the supreme power in 1717; but this -does not justify the factious manner in which Walpole opposed every -measure the new ministry brought forward--even the Mutiny Act, which was -plainly necessary to keep the army in discipline; even the repeal of the -Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts, though he had himself denounced -those acts as more like laws of Julian the Apostate than of a Christian -legislature. - -He was sincerely tolerant in his disposition, and probably did as much -for the benefit of the Dissenters as could have been done without -producing a violent and dangerous reaction of opinion; but he took no -measure to lighten the burden of the Irish penal code, and he had no -scruple in availing himself of the strong feeling against the English -Catholics and non-jurors to raise one hundred thousand pounds, by a -special tax upon their estates, or in promising the Dissenters that he -would obtain the repeal of the Test Act, when he had no serious -intention of doing so. He warned the country faithfully against the -South Sea scheme, but when his warning was disregarded he proceeded to -speculate skillfully and successfully in it himself. He labored long and -earnestly to prevent the Spanish war, which he knew to be eminently -impolitic; but when the clamors of his opponents had made it inevitable -he determined that he would still remain at the helm, and he accordingly -declared it himself. He governed the country mildly and wisely, but he -was resolved at all hazards to secure for himself a complete monopoly of -power; he steadily opposed the reconciliation of the Tories with the -Hanoverian dynasty, lest it should impair his ascendancy, surrounded -himself with colleagues whose faculties rarely rose above the tamest -mediocrity, drove from power every man of real talent who might -possibly become his rival, and especially repelled young men of promise, -character, and ambition, whom a provident statesman, desirous of -perpetuating his policy beyond his lifetime, would especially seek to -attract. - -The scandal and also the evil effects of his political vices were -greatly increased by that total want of decorum which Burke has justly -noted as the weakest point of his character. In this respect his public -and private life resembled one another. That he lived for many years in -open adultery and indulged to excess in the pleasures of the table were -facts which in the early part of the eighteenth century were in -themselves not likely to excite much attention; but his boisterous -revelries at Houghton exceeded even the ordinary license of the country -squires of his time, and the gross sensuality of his conversation was -conspicuous in one of the coarsest periods of English history. When he -did not talk of business, it was said, he talked of women; politics and -obscenity were his tastes. There seldom was a court less addicted to -prudery than that of George II, but even its tolerance was somewhat -strained by a minister who jested with the queen upon the infidelity of -her husband; who advised her on one occasion to bring to court a -beautiful but silly woman as a “safe fool” for the king to fall in love -with; who, on the death of the queen, urged her daughters to summon -without delay the two mistresses of the king in order to distract the -mind of their father; who at the same time avowed, with a brutal -frankness, as the scheme of his future policy, that though he had been -for the wife against the mistress, he would be henceforth for the -mistress against the daughters. - -In society he had the weakness of wishing to be thought a man of -gallantry and fashion, and his awkward addresses, rendered the more -ludicrous by a singularly corpulent and ungraceful person, as well as -the extreme coarseness into which he usually glided when speaking to and -of women, drew down upon him much ridicule and some contempt. His -estimate of political integrity was very similar to his estimate of -female virtue. He governed by means of an assembly which was saturated -with corruption, and he fully acquiesced in its conditions and resisted -every attempt to improve it. He appears to have cordially accepted the -maxim that government must be carried on by corruption or by force, and -he deliberately made the former the basis of his rule. He bribed George -II by obtaining for him a civil list exceeding by more than one hundred -thousand pounds a year that of his father. He bribed the queen by -securing for her a jointure of one hundred thousand pounds a year, when -his rival, Sir Spencer Compton, could only venture to promise sixty -thousand pounds. He bribed the dissenting ministers to silence by the -Regium Donum for the benefit of their widows. He employed the vast -patronage of the crown uniformly and steadily with the single view of -sustaining his political position, and there can be no doubt that a -large proportion of the immense expenditure of secret-service money -during his administration was devoted to the direct purchase of members -of Parliament. - -His influence upon young men appears to have been peculiarly pernicious. -If we may believe Chesterfield, he was accustomed to ask them in a tone -of irony upon their entrance into Parliament whether they too were going -to be saints or Romans, and he employed all the weight of his position -to make them regard purity and patriotism as ridiculous or unmanly. Of -the next generation of statesmen, Fox, the first Lord Holland,[28] was -the only man of remarkable ability who can be said to have been his -disciple, and he was, perhaps, the most corrupt and unscrupulous of the -statesmen of his age. - -[Illustration: FREDERICK THE GREAT.] - - - - -FREDERICK THE GREAT. - -BY THOMAS CARLYLE. - - [Otherwise Frederick II, third king of Prussia, son of Frederick - William I, and grandson of George I of England, born 1712, died - 1786. Regarded in his youth, before his accession to the throne, as - a spendthrift and voluptuary or as a prince of weak and vacillating - character, his accession to the throne in 1740 instantly brought - out his true character as the most able and masterful of rulers. - His protracted wars with odds against him, often of four to one, in - which he fought the banded armies of Europe, stamped him as a - soldier of splendid genius and iron tenacity of endurance and - purpose. During the Seven Years’ War he stood with only five - million subjects against a hundred million. On the declaration of - peace he devoted himself, with the same energy, to the restoration - of the commerce, agriculture, and industries of Prussia as that - with which he had fought her enemies, and with as much success. - Frederick was not only a great soldier and civil administrator, - though on somewhat despotic lines, but keenly sympathetic with - literature, art, and science. All these he encouraged and fostered - by every means. He was the true founder of the Prussian monarchy.] - - -About fourscore years ago there used to be seen sauntering on the -terraces of Sans Souci, for a short time in the afternoon, or you might -have met him elsewhere at an earlier hour, riding or driving in a rapid -business manner on the open roads or through the scraggy woods and -avenues of that intricate amphibious Potsdam region, a highly -interesting lean little old man, of alert though slightly stooping -figure, whose name among strangers was King _Friedrich the Second_, or -Frederick the Great of Prussia, and at home among the common people, who -much loved and esteemed him, was _Vater Fritz_--Father Fred--a name of -familiarity which had not bred contempt in that instance. He is a king, -every inch of him, though without the trappings of a king. Presents -himself in a Spartan simplicity of vesture; no crown but an old military -cocked hat--generally old, or trampled and kneaded into absolute -_softness_ if new--no scepter but one like Agamemnon’s, a walking-stick -cut from the woods, which serves also as a riding-stick (with which he -hits the horse “between the ears,” say authors)--and for royal robes, a -mere soldier’s blue coat with red facings, coat likely to be old, and -sure to have a good deal of Spanish snuff on the breast of it; rest of -the apparel dim, unobtrusive in color or cut, ending in high overknee -military boots, which may be brushed (and, I hope, kept soft with an -underhand suspicion of oil), but are not permitted to be blackened or -varnished; Day and Martin with their soot-pots forbidden to approach. - -The man is not of godlike physiognomy, any more than of imposing stature -or costume; close-shut mouth with thin lips, prominent jaws and nose, -receding brow, by no means of Olympian height; head, however, is of long -form, and has superlative gray eyes in it. Not what is called a -beautiful man; nor yet, by all appearance, what is called a happy. On -the contrary, the face bears evidence of many sorrows, as they are -termed, of much hard labor done in this world, and seems to anticipate -nothing but more still coming. Quiet stoicism, capable enough of what -joys there were, but not expecting any worth mention; great unconscious -and some conscious pride, well tempered with a cheery mockery of -humor--are written on that old face, which carries its chin well -forward, in spite of the slight stoop about the neck; snuffy nose, -rather flung into the air, under its old cocked hat--like an old snuffy -lion on the watch; and such a pair of eyes as no man or lion or lynx of -that century bore elsewhere, according to all the testimony we have. - -“Those eyes,” says Mirabeau, “which, at the bidding of his great soul, -fascinated you with seduction or with terror (_portaient, au gré de son -âme héroïque, la séduction ou la terreur_).” Most excellent potent -brilliant eyes, swift-darting as the stars, steadfast as the sun; gray, -we said, of the azure-gray color; large enough, not of glaring size; -the habitual expression of them vigilance and penetrating sense, -rapidity resting on depth, which is an excellent combination, and gives -us the notion of a lambent outer radiance springing from some great -inner sea of light and fire in the man. - -The voice, if he speak to you, is of similar physiognomy--clear, -melodious, and sonorous; all tones are in it, from that of ingenuous -inquiry, graceful sociality, light-flowing banter (rather prickly for -most part), up to definite word of command, up to desolating word of -rebuke and reprobation; a voice “the clearest and most agreeable in -conversation I ever heard,” says witty Dr. Moore. “He speaks a great -deal,” continues the doctor, “yet those who hear him regret that he does -not speak a good deal more. His observations are always lively, very -often just, and few men possess the talent of repartee in greater -perfection.” - -This was a man of infinite mark to his contemporaries, who had witnessed -surprising feats from him in the world; very questionable notions and -ways, which he had contrived to maintain against the world and its -criticisms, as an original man has always to do, much more an original -ruler of men. The world, in fact, had tried hard to put him down, as it -does, unconsciously or consciously, with all such, and after the most -conscious exertions, and at one time a dead-lift spasm of all its -energies for seven years, had not been able. Principalities and powers, -imperial, royal, czarish, papal, enemies innumerable as the sea-sand, -had risen against him, only one helper left among the world’s potentates -(and that one only while there should be help rendered in return), and -he led them all such a dance as had astonished mankind and them. - -No wonder they thought him worthy of notice! Every original man of any -magnitude is--nay, in the long run, who or what else is? But how much -more if your original man was a king over men; whose movements were -polar, and carried from day to day those of the world along with them. -The Samson Agonistes--were his life passed like that of Samuel Johnson -in dirty garrets, and the produce of it only some bits of written -paper--the Agonistes, and how he will comport himself in the Philistine -mill; this is always a spectacle of truly epic and tragic nature, the -rather if your Samson, royal or other, is not yet blinded or subdued to -the wheel, much more if he vanquish his enemies, _not_ by suicidal -methods, but march out at last flourishing his miraculous fighting -implement, and leaving their mill and them in quite ruinous -circumstances, as this King Friedrich fairly managed to do. - -For he left the world all bankrupt, we may say; fallen into bottomless -abysses of destruction; he still in a paying condition, and with footing -capable to carry his affairs and him. When he died, in 1786, the -enormous phenomenon since called FRENCH REVOLUTION was already growling -audibly in the depths of the world, meteoric-electric coruscations -heralding it all round the horizon. Strange enough to note, one of -Friedrich’s last visitors was Gabriel Honoré Riquetti, Comte de -Mirabeau. These two saw one another; twice, for half an hour each time. -The last of the old gods and the first of the modern Titans--before -Pelion leaped on Ossa, and the foul earth taking fire at last, its vile -mephitic elements went up in volcanic thunder. This also is one of the -peculiarities of Friedrich, that he is hitherto the last of the kings; -that he ushers in the French Revolution, and closes an epoch of -world-history. Finishing off forever the trade of king, think many, who -have grown profoundly dark as to kingship and him. - -The French Revolution may be said to have, for about half a century, -quite submerged Friedrich, abolished him from the memories of men; and -now, on coming to light again, he is found defaced under strange mud -incrustations, and the eyes of mankind look at him from a singularly -changed, what we must call oblique and perverse point of vision. This is -one of the difficulties in dealing with his history--especially if you -happen to believe both in the French Revolution and in him--that is to -say, both that real kingship is eternally indispensable, and also that -the destruction of sham kingship (a frightful process) is occasionally -so. - -On the breaking out of the formidable explosion and suicide of his -century, Friedrich sank into comparative obscurity, eclipsed amid the -ruins of that universal earthquake, the very dust of which darkened all -the air, and made of day a disastrous midnight--black midnight, broken -only by the blaze of conflagrations--wherein, to our terrified -imaginations, were seen, not men, French and other, but ghastly -portents, stalking wrathful, and shapes of avenging gods. - -It must be owned the figure of Napoleon was titanic; especially to the -generation that looked on him, and that waited shuddering to be devoured -by him. In general, in that French Revolution, all was on a huge scale; -if not greater than anything in human experience, at least more -grandiose. All was recorded in bulletins, too, addressed to the shilling -gallery; and there were fellows on the stage with such a breadth of -saber, extent of whiskerage, strength of windpipe, and command of men -and gunpowder as had never been seen before. How they bellowed, stalked, -and flourished about, counterfeiting Jove’s thunder to an amazing -degree! Terrific Drawcansir figures of enormous whiskerage, unlimited -command of gunpowder; not without sufficient ferocity, and even a -certain heroism, stage heroism, in them; compared with whom, to the -shilling gallery, and frightened, excited theatre at large, it seemed as -if there had been no generals or sovereigns before; as if Friedrich, -Gustavus, Cromwell, William Conqueror, and Alexander the Great were not -worth speaking of henceforth. - -All this, however, in half a century is considerably altered. The -Drawcansir equipments getting gradually torn off, the natural size is -seen better; translated from the bulletin style into that of fact and -history, miracles, even to the shilling gallery, are not so miraculous. -It begins to be apparent that there lived great men before the era of -bulletins and Agamemnon. Austerlitz and Wagram shot away more -gunpowder--gunpowder, probably, in the proportion of ten to one, or a -hundred to one; but neither of them was tenth part such a beating to -your enemy as that of Rossbach, brought about by strategic art, human -ingenuity and intrepidity, and the loss of one hundred and sixty-five -men. Leuthen, too, the battle of Leuthen (though so few English readers -ever heard of it) may very well hold up its head beside any victory -gained by Napoleon or another. For the odds were not far from three to -one; the soldiers were of not far from equal quality; and only the -general was consummately superior, and the defeat a destruction. - -Napoleon did, indeed, by immense expenditure of men and gunpowder, -overrun Europe for a time; but Napoleon never, by husbanding and wisely -expending his men and gunpowder, defended a little Prussia against all -Europe, year after year for seven years long, till Europe had enough, -and gave up the enterprise as one it could not manage. So soon as the -Drawcansir equipments are well torn off and the shilling gallery got to -silence, it will be found that there were great kings before Napoleon, -and likewise an art of war, grounded on veracity and human courage and -insight, not upon Drawcansir rodomontade, grandiose Dick-Turpinism, -revolutionary madness, and unlimited expenditure of men and gunpowder. -“You may paint with a very big brush, and yet not be a great painter,” -says a satirical friend of mine. This is becoming more and more -apparent, as the dust-whirlwind and huge uproar of the last generation -gradually dies away again. - -Friedrich is by no means one of the perfect demigods; and there are -various things to be said against him with good ground. To the last, a -questionable hero; with much in him which one could have wished not -there, and much wanting which one could have wished. But there is one -feature which strikes you at an early period of the inquiry. That in his -way he is a reality; that he always means what he speaks; grounds his -actions, too, on what he recognizes for the truth; and, in short, has -nothing whatever of the hypocrite or phantasm. Which some readers will -admit to be an extremely rare phenomenon. - -We perceive that this man was far indeed from trying to deal -swindler-like with the facts around him; that he honestly recognized -said facts wherever they disclosed themselves, and was very anxious also -to ascertain their existence where still hidden or dubious. For he knew -well, to a quite uncommon degree, and with a merit all the higher as it -was an unconscious one, how entirely inexorable is the nature of facts, -whether recognized or not, ascertained or not; how vain all cunning of -diplomacy, management and sophistry, to save any mortal who does _not_ -stand on the truth of things, from sinking in the long run. Sinking to -the very mudgods, with all his diplomacies, possessions, achievements; -and becoming an unnamable object, hidden deep in the cesspools of the -universe. This I hope to make manifest; this which I long ago discerned -for myself, with pleasure, in the physiognomy of Friedrich and his life. -Which, indeed, was the first real sanction, and has all along been my -inducement and encouragement, to study his life and him. How this man, -officially a king withal, comported himself in the eighteenth century, -and managed _not_ to be a liar and charlatan as his century was, -deserves to be seen a little by men and kings, and may silently have -didactic meanings in it. - -He that was honest with his existence has always meaning for us, be he -king or peasant. He that merely shammed and grimaced with it however -much, and with whatever noise and trumpet-blowing, he may have cooked -and eaten in this world, can not long have any. Some men do _cook_ -enormously (let us call it _cooking_, what a man does in obedience to -his _hunger_ merely, to his desires and passions merely)--roasting whole -continents and populations, in the flames of war or other discord; -witness the Napoleon above spoken of. For the appetite of man in that -respect is unlimited; in truth, infinite; and the smallest of us could -eat the entire solar system, had we the chance given, and then cry, like -Alexander of Macedon, because we had no more solar systems to cook and -eat. It is not the extent of the man’s cookery that can much attach me -to him; but only the man himself, and what of strength he had to wrestle -with the mud-elements, and what of victory he got for his own benefit -and mine. - - - - -WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [Born in 1708, died 1778, one of the most eminent of English - statesmen and orators. Educated at Eton and Oxford, he spent a - short term in the army, but found his true vocation on being - elected to Parliament in 1737. It was not till 1755 that he became - virtual prime minister. Under his control the arms and diplomacy of - England became generally victorious throughout the world. It was - largely owing to his support that Frederick the Great was finally - victorious over his enemies, and that a great and consistent - foreign policy was inaugurated that raised the nation to a lofty - pitch of glory. The elder Pitt was known as the “great commoner,” - and it was thought derogatory to his fame when he accepted a - peerage. He was the firm and eloquent advocate of the American - colonists in their claims against the mother-country.] - - -It is this personal and solitary grandeur which strikes us most as we -look back to William Pitt. The tone of his speech and action stands out -in utter contrast with the tone of his time. In the midst of a society -critical, polite, indifferent, simple even to the affectation of -simplicity, witty and amusing but absolutely prosaic, cool of heart and -of head, skeptical of virtue and enthusiasm, skeptical above all of -itself, Pitt stood absolutely alone. The depth of his conviction, his -passionate love for all that he deemed lofty and true, his fiery energy, -his poetic imaginativeness, his theatrical airs and rhetoric, his -haughty self-assumption, his pompousness and extravagance, were not more -puzzling to his contemporaries than the confidence with which he -appealed to the higher sentiments of mankind, the scorn with which he -turned from a corruption which had till then been the great engine of -politics, the undoubting faith which he felt in himself, in the grandeur -of his aims, and in his power to carry them out. “I know that I can save -the country,” he said to the Duke of Devonshire on his entry into the -ministry, “and I know no other man can.” The groundwork of Pitt’s -character was an intense and passionate pride; but it was a pride which -kept him from stooping to the level of the men who had so long held -England in their hands. He was the first statesman since the restoration -who set the example of a purely public spirit. - -Keen as was his love of power, no man ever refused office so often or -accepted it with so strict a regard to the principles he professed. “I -will not go to court,” he replied to an offer which was made him, “if I -may not bring the constitution with me.” For the corruption about him he -had nothing but disdain. He left to Newcastle the buying of seats and -the purchase of members. At the outset of his career Pelham appointed -him to the most lucrative office in his administration, that of -paymaster of the forces; but its profits were of an illicit kind, and -poor as he was, Pitt refused to accept one farthing beyond his salary. -His pride never appeared in loftier and nobler form than in his attitude -toward the people at large. No leader had ever a wider popularity than -“the great commoner,” as Pitt was styled, but his air was always that of -a man who commands popularity, not that of one who seeks it. He never -bent to flatter popular prejudice. When mobs were roaring themselves -hoarse for “Wilkes and liberty,” he denounced Wilkes as a worthless -profligate; and when all England went mad in its hatred of the Scots, -Pitt haughtily declared his esteem for a people whose courage he had -been the first to enlist on the side of loyalty. - -His noble figure, the hawk-like eye which flashed from the small, thin -face, his majestic voice, the fire and grandeur of his eloquence, gave -him a sway over the House of Commons far greater than any other minister -has possessed. He could silence an opponent with a look of scorn, or -hush the whole House with a single word. But he never stooped to the -arts by which men form a political party, and at the height of his power -his personal following hardly numbered half a dozen members. - -His real strength, indeed, lay not in Parliament, but in the people at -large. His significant title of “the great commoner” marks a political -revolution. “It is the people who have sent me here,” Pitt boasted with -a haughty pride when the nobles of the cabinet opposed his will. He was -the first to see that the long political inactivity of the public mind -had ceased, and that the progress of commerce and industry had produced -a great middle class which no longer found its representatives in the -legislature. “You have taught me,” said George II, when Pitt sought to -save Byng by appealing to the sentiment of Parliament, “to look for the -voice of my people in other places than within the House of Commons.” - -It was this unrepresented class which had forced him into power. During -his struggle with Newcastle the greater towns backed him with the gift -of their freedom and addresses of confidence. “For weeks,” laughs Horace -Walpole, “it rained gold boxes.” London stood by him through good report -and evil report, and the wealthiest of English merchants, Alderman -Beckford, was proud to figure as his political lieutenant. The temper of -Pitt indeed harmonized admirably with the temper of the commercial -England which rallied round him, with its energy, its self-confidence, -its pride, its patriotism, its honesty, its moral earnestness. The -merchant and the trader were drawn by a natural attraction to the one -statesman of their time whose aims were unselfish, whose hands were -clean, whose life was pure and full of tender affection for wife and -child. But there was a far deeper ground for their enthusiastic -reverence and for the reverence which his country has borne Pitt ever -since. - -He loved England with an intense and personal love. He believed in her -power, her glory, her public virtue, till England learned to believe in -herself. Her triumphs were his triumphs, her defeats his defeats. Her -dangers lifted him high above all thought of self or party spirit. “Be -one people,” he cried to the factions who rose to bring about his fall; -“forget everything but the public! I set you the example!” His glowing -patriotism was the real spell by which he held England. But even the -faults which checkered his character told for him with the middle -classes. The Whig statesmen who preceded him had been men whose pride -expressed itself in a marked simplicity and absence of pretense. Pitt -was essentially an actor, dramatic in the cabinet, in the House, in his -very office. He transacted business with his clerks in full dress. His -letters to his family, genuine as his love for them was, are stilted and -unnatural in tone. It was easy for the wits of his day to jest at his -affectation, his pompous gait, the dramatic appearance which he made on -great debates with his limbs swathed in flannel and his crutch by his -side. Early in life Walpole sneered at him for bringing into the House -of Commons “the gestures and emotions of the stage.” But the classes to -whom Pitt appealed were classes not easily offended by faults of taste, -and saw nothing to laugh at in the statesman who was borne into the -lobby amid the tortures of the gout, or carried into the House of Lords -to breathe his last in a protest against national dishonor. - -Above all Pitt wielded the strength of a resistless eloquence. The power -of political speech had been revealed in the stormy debates of the long -Parliament, but it was cramped in its utterance by the legal and -theological pedantry of the time. Pedantry was flung off by the age of -the revolution, but in the eloquence of Somers and his rivals we see -ability rather than genius, knowledge, clearness of expression, -precision of thought, the lucidity of the pleader or the man of -business, rather than the passion of the orator. Of this clearness of -statement Pitt had little or none. He was no ready debater like Walpole, -no speaker of set speeches like Chesterfield. His set speeches were -always his worst, for in these his want of taste, his love of effect, -his trite quotations and extravagant metaphors came at once to the -front. That with defects like these he stood far above every orator of -his time was due above all to his profound conviction, to the -earnestness and sincerity with which he spoke. “I must sit still,” he -whispered once to a friend, “for when once I am up everything that is in -my mind comes out.” But the reality of his eloquence was transfigured by -a large and poetic imagination, and by a glow of passion which not only -raised him high above the men of his own day, but set him in the front -rank among the orators of the world. The cool reasoning, the wit, the -common sense of his age made way for a splendid audacity, a sympathy -with popular emotion, a sustained grandeur, a lofty vehemence, a command -over the whole range of human feeling. He passed without an effort from -the most solemn appeal to the gayest raillery, from the keenest sarcasm -to the tenderest pathos. Every word was driven home by the grand -self-consciousness of the speaker. He spoke always as one having -authority. He was in fact the first English orator whose words were a -power, a power not over Parliament only, but over the nation at large. -Parliamentary reporting was as yet unknown, and it was only in detached -phrases and half-remembered outbursts that the voice of Pitt reached -beyond the walls of St. Stephen’s. But it was especially in these sudden -outbursts of inspiration, in these brief passionate appeals, that the -power of his eloquence lay. The few broken words we have of him stir the -same thrill in men of our day which they stirred in the men of his own. -But passionate as was Pitt’s eloquence, it was the eloquence of a -statesman, not of a rhetorician. Time has approved almost all his -greater struggles, his defense of the liberty of the subject against -arbitrary imprisonment under “general warrants,” of the liberty of the -press against Lord Mansfield, of the rights of constituencies against -the House of Commons, of the constitutional rights of America against -England itself. His foreign policy was directed to the preservation of -Prussia, and Prussia has vindicated his foresight by the creation of -Germany. We have adopted his plans for the direct government of India by -the crown, which when he proposed them were regarded as insane. Pitt was -the first to recognize the liberal character of the Church of England. -He was the first to sound the note of parliamentary reform. One of his -earliest measures shows the generosity and originality of his mind. He -quieted Scotland by employing its Jacobites in the service of their -country, and by raising the Highland regiments among its clans. The -selection of Wolfe and Amherst as generals showed his contempt for -precedent and his inborn knowledge of men. - - - - -EDMUND BURKE. - -BY WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY. - - [One of the greatest of English statesmen and orators, born in - Ireland in 1730, died 1797. He entered Parliament in 1766, and at - the beginning of the American troubles at once identified himself - with the policy of conciliation and moderation. During his long - parliamentary career Burke distinguished himself in connection with - every political problem which agitated the British Empire, though - he never became prime minister, and was for the most of his life a - member of the opposition. Burke’s speech at the trial of Warren - Hastings is regarded by many critics as the greatest oration ever - delivered in any forum. He was scarcely less distinguished as a - writer on political and philosophical questions than as statesman - and orator.] - - -There are few men whose depth and versatility have been both so fully -recognized by their contemporaries and whose pre-eminence in many widely -different spheres is so amply attested. Adam Smith declared that he had -found no other man who, without communication, had thought out the same -conclusions on political economy as himself. Winstanley, the Camden -Professor of Ancient History, bore witness to his great knowledge of the -“philosophy, history, and filiation of languages, and of the principles -of etymological deduction.” Arthur Young, the first living authority on -agriculture, acknowledged his obligations to him for much information -about his special pursuits, and it was in a great degree his passion for -agriculture which induced Burke, when the death of his elder brother had -improved his circumstances, to incumber himself with a heavy debt by -purchasing that Beaconsfield estate where some of his happiest days were -spent. His conversational powers were only equaled, and probably not -surpassed, by those of Johnson. Goldsmith described him as “winding into -his subject, like a serpent.” “Like the fabled object of the fairy’s -favors,” said Wilberforce, “whenever he opened his mouth pearls and -diamonds dropped from him.” Grattan pronounced him the best talker he -had ever known. Johnson, in spite of their violent political -differences, always spoke of him with generous admiration. “Burke is an -extraordinary man. His stream of mind is perpetual.... His talk is the -ebullition of his mind. He does not talk for a desire of distinction, -but because his mind is full.... He is the only man whose common -conversation corresponds with the general fame which he has in the -world. Take up what topic you please, he is ready to meet you.... No man -of sense could meet Mr. Burke by accident under a gateway to avoid a -shower without being convinced that he was the first man in England.” It -is not surprising that “he is the first man in the House of Commons, for -he is the first man everywhere.” He once declared that “he knew but two -men who had risen considerably above the common standard--Lord Chatham -and Edmund Burke.” - -The admirable proportion which subsisted between his different powers, -both moral and intellectual, is especially remarkable. Genius is often, -like the pearl, the offspring or the accompaniment of disease, and an -extraordinary development of one class of faculties is too frequently -balanced by an extraordinary deficiency of others. But nothing of this -kind can be found in Burke. - -His intellectual energy was fully commensurate with his knowledge, and -he had rare powers of bringing illustrations and methods of reasoning -derived from many spheres to bear on any subject he touched, and of -combining an extraordinary natural facility with the most untiring and -fastidious labor. In debate images, illustrations, and arguments rose to -his lips with a spontaneous redundance that astonished his hearers; but -no writer elaborated his compositions more carefully, and his printers -were often aghast at the multitude of his corrections and alterations. -Nor did his intellectual powers in any degree dry up or dwarf his moral -nature. There is no public man whose character is more clearly reflected -in his life and in his intimate correspondence; and it may be -confidently said that there is no other public man whose character was -in all essential respects more transparently pure. Weak health, deep and -fervent religious principles, and studious habits, saved him from the -temptations of youth; and amid all the vicissitudes and corruption of -politics his heart never lost its warmth, or his conscience its -sensitiveness. - -There were faults, indeed, which were only too apparent in his character -as in his intellect--an excessive violence and irritability of temper; -personal antipathies, which were sometimes carried beyond all the -bounds of reason; party spirit, which was too often suffered to obscure -his judgment and to hurry him into great intemperance and exaggeration -of language. But he was emphatically a good man; and in the higher moral -qualities of public as of private life he has not often been surpassed. -That loyal affection with which he clung through his whole life to the -friends of his early youth; that genuine kindness which made him, when -still a poor man, the munificent patron of Barry and Crabbe, and which -showed itself in innumerable acts of unobtrusive benevolence; that -stainless purity and retiring modesty of nature which made his domestic -life so different from that of some of the greatest of his -contemporaries; that depth of feeling which made the loss of his only -son the death-knell of the whole happiness of his life, may be traced in -every stage of his public career. “I know the map of England,” he once -said, “as well as the noble lord, or as any other person, and I know -that the way I take is not the road to preferment.” Fidelity to his -engagements, a disinterested pursuit of what he believed to be right, in -spite of all the allurements of interest and of popularity; a deep and -ardent hatred of oppression and cruelty in every form; a readiness at -all times to sacrifice personal pretensions to party interests; a -capacity of devoting long years of thankless labor to the service of -those whom he had never seen, and who could never reward him, were the -great characteristics of his life, and they may well make us pardon many -faults of temper, judgment, and taste. - -In Parliament he had great obstacles to contend with. An Irishman -unconnected with any of the great governing families, and without any of -the influence derived from property and rank, he entered Parliament late -in life and with habits fully formed, and during the greater part of his -career he spoke as a member of a small minority in opposition to the -strong feeling of the House. He was too old and too rigid to catch its -tone, and he never acquired that subtle instinct or tact which enables -some speakers to follow its fleeting moods and to strike with unfailing -accuracy the precise key which is most in harmony with its prevailing -temper. “Of all politicians of talent I ever knew,” wrote Horace -Walpole, “Burke has least political art,” and his defects so increased -with age that the time came when he was often listened to with -undisguised impatience. He spoke too often, too vehemently, and much too -long; and his eloquence, though in the highest degree intellectual, -powerful, various, and original, was not well adapted to a popular -audience. - -He had little or nothing of that fire and majesty of declamation with -which Chatham thrilled his hearers, and often almost overawed -opposition, and as a parliamentary debater he was far inferior to -Charles Fox. That great master of persuasive reasoning never failed to -make every sentence tell upon his hearers, to employ precisely and -invariably the kind of arguments that were most level with their -understandings, to subordinate every other consideration to the single -end of convincing and impressing those who were before him. Burke was -not inferior to Fox in readiness and in the power of clear and cogent -reasoning. His wit, though not of the highest order, was only equaled by -that of Townshend, Sheridan, and perhaps North, and it rarely failed in -its effect upon the House. He far surpassed every other speaker in the -copiousness and correctness of his diction, in the range of knowledge he -brought to bear on every subject of debate, in the richness and variety -of his imagination, in the gorgeous beauty of his descriptive passages, -in the depth of the philosophical reflections and the felicity of the -personal sketches which he delighted in scattering over his speeches. -But these gifts were frequently marred by a strange want of judgment, -measure, and self-control. - -His speeches were full of episodes and digressions, of excessive -ornamentation and illustration, of dissertations on general principles -of politics, which were invaluable in themselves, but very unpalatable -to a tired or excited house waiting eagerly for a division. As Grattan -once said, “they were far better suited to a patient reader than an -impatient hearer.” Passionately in earnest in the midst of a careless or -half-hearted assembly, seeking in all measures their essential and -permanent tendencies, while his hearers thought chiefly of their -transient and personal aspects, discussing first principles and remote -consequences, among men whose minds were concentrated on the struggle of -the hour, constantly led away by the endless stream of ideas and images -which were forever surging from his brain, he was often interrupted by -his impatient hearers. There is scarcely a perceptible difference -between the style of his essays and the style of his published speeches; -and if the reader selects from his works the few passages which possess -to an eminent degree the flash and movement of spoken rhetoric, he will -be quite as likely to find them in the former as in the latter. - -Like most men of great imaginative power, he possessed a highly strung -and oversensitive nervous organization, and the incessant conflicts of -parliamentary life brought it at last into a condition of irritability -that was wholly morbid and abnormal. Though eminently courteous and -amenable to reason in private life, in public he was often petulant, -intractable, and ungovernably violent. His friends sometimes held him -down by the skirts of his coat to restrain the outbursts of his anger. -He spoke with a burning brain and with quivering nerves. The rapid, -vehement, impetuous torrent of his eloquence, kindling as it flowed and -the nervous motions of his countenance reflected the ungovernable -excitement under which he labored; and while Fox could cast off without -an effort the cares of public life and pass at once from Parliament to a -night of dissipation at Brooks’s, Burke returned from debate jaded, -irritated, and soured. - -With an intellect capable of the very highest efforts of judicial -wisdom he combined the passions of the most violent partisan, and in the -excitement of debate these too often obtained the ascendency. Few things -are more curious than the contrast between the feverish and passionate -excitement with which he threw himself into party debates and the -admirably calm, exhaustive, and impartial summaries of the rival -arguments which he afterward drew up for the “Annual Register.” Though a -most skillful and penetrating critic, and though his English style is -one of the very finest in the language, his taste was not pure. Even his -best writings are sometimes disfigured by strangely coarse and repulsive -images, and gross violations of taste appear to have been frequent in -his speeches. It is probable that in his case the hasty reports in the -“Parliamentary History” and in the “Cavendish Debates” are more than -commonly defective, for Burke was a very rapid speaker, and his language -had the strongly marked individuality which reporters rarely succeed in -conveying; but no one who judged by these reports would place his -speeches in the first rank, and some of them are wild and tawdry almost -to insanity. - -Nor does he appear to have possessed any histrionic power. His voice had -little charm. He had a strong Irish accent, and Erskine described his -delivery as “execrable,” and declared that in some of his finest -speeches he emptied the house. - -Gerard Hamilton once said that while everywhere else Burke seemed the -first man, in the House of Commons he appeared only the second. At the -same time there is ample evidence that with all his defects he was from -the first a great power in the House, and that in the early part of his -career, and almost always on occasions of great importance, his -eloquence had a wonderful power upon his hearers. Pitt passed into the -House of Lords almost immediately after Burke had entered the Commons. -Fox was then a boy; Sheridan had not yet become a member; and his -fellow-countryman, Barré, though a rhetorician of great if somewhat -coarse power, was completely eclipsed by the splendor and the variety of -the talents of Burke. Charles Townshend alone, who shone for a few years -with a meteoric brilliancy in English politics, was regarded as his -worthy rival. Johnson wrote to Langton with great delight that Burke by -his first speeches in the House had “gained more reputation than perhaps -any man at his first appearance ever gained before.” - -“An Irishman, Mr. Burke, is sprung up,” wrote the American General Lee, -who was then watching London politics with great care, “who has -astonished everybody with the power of his eloquence and his -comprehensive knowledge in all our exterior and internal politics and -commercial interests. He wants nothing but that sort of dignity annexed -to rank and property in England to make him the most considerable man in -the Lower House.” Grattan, who on a question of oratory was one of the -most competent of judges, wrote in 1769, “Burke is unquestionably the -first orator among the Commons of England, boundless in knowledge, -instantaneous in his apprehensions, and abundant in his language. He -speaks with profound attention and acknowledged superiority, -notwithstanding the want of energy, the want of grace, and the want of -elegance in his manner.” Horace Walpole, who hated Burke, acknowledged -that he was “versed in every branch of eloquence,” that he possessed -“the quickest conception, amazing facility of elocution, great strength -of argumentation, all the power of imagination, and memory,” that even -his unpremeditated speeches displayed “a choice and variety of language, -a profusion of metaphors, and a correctness of diction that was -surprising,” and that in public, though not in private life his wit was -of the highest order, “luminous, striking, and abundant.” He complained, -however, with good reason that he “often lost himself in a torrent of -images and copiousness,” that “he dealt abundantly too much in -establishing general positions,” that he had “no address or -insinuation”; that his speeches often showed a great want of sobriety -and judgment, and “the still greater want of art to touch the passions.” - -But though their length, their excursiveness, and their didactic -character did undoubtedly on many occasions weary and even empty the -House, there were others in which Burke showed a power both of -fascinating and of moving, such as very few speakers have attained. -Gibbon, whose sinecure place was swept away by the Economical Reform -Bill of 1782, bears testimony to the “delight with which that diffusive -and ingenious orator, Mr. Burke, was heard by all sides of the House, -and even by those whose existence he proscribed.” Walpole has himself -repeatedly noticed the effect which the speeches of Burke produced upon -the hearers. Describing one of those against the American war, he says -that the wit of one part “excited the warmest and most continued bursts -of laughter even from Lord North, Rigby, and the ministers themselves,” -while the pathos of another part “drew iron tears down Barré’s cheek,” -and Governor Johnston exclaimed that “he was now glad that strangers -were excluded, as if they had been admitted Burke’s speech would have -excited them to tear ministers to pieces as they went out of the House.” -Sir Gilbert Elliot, describing one of Burke’s speeches on the Warren -Hastings impeachment, says: “He did not, I believe, leave a dry eye in -the whole assembly.” Making every allowance for the enthusiasm of a -French Royalist for the author of the “Reflections on the French -Revolution,” the graphic description by the Duke de Levis of one of -Burke’s latest speeches on that subject is sufficient to show the -magnetism of his eloquence even at the end of his career. “He made the -whole House pass in an instant from the tenderest emotions of feeling to -bursts of laughter; never was the electric power of eloquence more -imperiously felt. This extraordinary man seemed to raise and quell the -passions of his auditors with as much ease and as rapidly as a skillful -musician passes into the various modulations of his harpsichord. I have -witnessed many, too many political assemblages and striking scenes where -eloquence performed a noble part, but the whole of them appear insipid -when compared with this amazing effort.” - - - - -GEORGE WASHINGTON. - -BY WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY. - - [Commander-in-chief of the American armies during the Revolution, - and first President of the United States, born 1732, died 1799. - Washington’s first notable appearance in public life was in the - Braddock expedition of 1755, when, at the age of twenty-three, as - commander of the provincials in the British force, he saved the - remains of the defeated army. Thenceforward he became one of the - most important figures in Virginia. After five years of military - service he resigned his commission and retired to private life, - except doing his duty as member of the Provincial Assembly. When - the colonies took up arms, in 1775, Washington received the - unanimous call to the chief command. At the close of hostilities - General Washington resigned his commission and retired to Mount - Vernon, shunning all connection with public affairs. He was made - president of the Constitutional Convention of 1787, and on the - promulgation of the Constitution, it was his transcendent - popularity which was the most important influence in securing its - ratification by the requisite number of States. He was elected - first President, and served for two terms.] - - -Perhaps the most difficult question, however, was the appointment of a -commander-in-chief; and on no other subject did the Congress exhibit -more conspicuous wisdom. When only twenty-three, Washington had been -appointed commander of the Virginian forces against the French; and in -the late war, though he had met with one serious disaster, and had no -opportunity of obtaining any very brilliant military reputation, he had -always shown himself an eminently brave and skillful soldier. His great -modesty and taciturnity kept him in the background, both in the -provincial legislature and in the Continental Congress; but though his -voice was scarcely ever heard in debate, his superiority was soon felt -in the practical work of the committees. “If you speak of solid -information or sound judgment,” said Patrick Henry about this time, -“Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man in the Congress.” -He appeared in the assembly in uniform, and in military matters his -voice had an almost decisive weight. Several circumstances distinguished -him from other officers, who in military service might have been his -rivals. - -He was of an old American family. He was a planter of wealth and social -position, and being a Virginian, his appointment was a great step toward -enlisting that important colony cordially in the cause. The capital -question now pending in America was, how far the other colonies would -support New England in the struggle. In the preceding March, Patrick -Henry had carried a resolution for embodying and reorganizing the -Virginia militia, and had openly proclaimed that an appeal to arms was -inevitable; but as yet New England had borne almost the whole burden. - -The army at Cambridge was a New England army, and General Ward, who -commanded it, had been appointed by Massachusetts. Even if Ward were -superseded, there were many New England competitors for the post of -commander; the army naturally desired a chief of their own province, and -there were divisions and hostilities among the New England deputies. The -great personal merit of Washington and the great political importance of -securing Virginia, determined the issue; and the New England deputies -ultimately took a leading part in the appointment. The second place was -given to General Ward, and the third to Charles Lee, an English soldier -of fortune who had lately purchased land in Virginia and embraced the -American cause with great passion. Lee had probably a wider military -experience than any other officer in America, but he was a man of no -settled principles, and his great talents were marred by a very -irritable and capricious temper. - -To the appointment of Washington, far more than to any other single -circumstance, is due the ultimate success of the American Revolution, -though in purely intellectual powers Washington was certainly inferior -to Franklin, and perhaps to two or three others of his colleagues. There -is a theory which once received the countenance of some considerable -physiologists, though it is now, I believe, completely discarded, that -one of the great lines of division among men may be traced to the -comparative development of the cerebrum and the cerebellum. To the first -organ it was supposed belong those special gifts or powers which make -men poets, orators, thinkers, artists, conquerors, or wits. To the -second belong the superintending, restraining, discerning, and directing -faculties which enable men to employ their several talents with sanity -and wisdom, which maintain the balance and the proportion of intellect -and character, and make sound judgments and well-regulated lives. The -theory, however untrue in its physiological aspect, corresponds to a -real distinction in human minds and characters, and it was especially in -the second order of faculties that Washington excelled. His mind was not -quick or remarkably original. His conversation had no brilliancy or wit. -He was entirely without the gift of eloquence, and he had very few -accomplishments. He knew no language but his own, and except for a -rather strong turn for mathematics, he had no taste which can be called -purely intellectual. There was nothing in him of the meteor or the -cataract, nothing that either dazzled or overpowered. A courteous and -hospitable country gentleman, a skillful farmer, a very keen sportsman, -he probably differed little in tastes and habits from the better members -of the class to which he belonged; and it was in a great degree in the -administration of a large estate and in assiduous attention to county -and provincial business that he acquired his rare skill in reading and -managing men. - -As a soldier the circumstances of his career brought him into the blaze -not only of domestic, but of foreign criticism, and it was only very -gradually that his superiority was fully recognized. Lee, who of all -American soldiers had seen most service in the English army, and Conway, -who had risen to great repute in the French army, were both accustomed -to speak of his military talents with extreme disparagement; but -personal jealousy and animosity undoubtedly colored their judgments. -Kalb, who had been trained in the best military schools of the -Continent, at first pronounced him to be very deficient in the strength, -decision, and promptitude of a general; and, although he soon learned to -form the highest estimate of his military capacity, he continued to -lament that an excessive modesty led him too frequently to act upon the -opinion of inferior men, rather than upon his own most excellent -judgment. In the army and the Congress more than one rival was opposed -to him. He had his full share of disaster; the operations which he -conducted, if compared with great European wars, were on a very small -scale; and he had the immense advantage of encountering in most cases -generals of singular incapacity. - -It may, however, be truly said of him that his military reputation -steadily rose through many successive campaigns, and before the end of -the struggle he had outlived all rivalry, and almost all envy. He had a -thorough knowledge of the technical part of his profession, a good eye -for military combinations, and an extraordinary gift of military -administration. Punctual, methodical, and exact in the highest degree, -he excelled in managing those minute details which are so essential to -the efficiency of an army, and he possessed to an eminent degree not -only the common courage of a soldier, but also that much rarer form of -courage which can endure long-continued suspense, bear the weight of -great responsibility, and encounter the risks of misrepresentation and -unpopularity. For several years, and usually in the neighborhood of -superior forces, he commanded a perpetually fluctuating army, almost -wholly destitute of discipline and respect for authority, torn by the -most violent personal and provincial jealousies, wretchedly armed, -wretchedly clothed, and sometimes in imminent danger of starvation. -Unsupported for the most part by the population among whom he was -quartered, and incessantly thwarted by the jealousy of Congress, he kept -his army together by a combination of skill, firmness, patience, and -judgment which has rarely been surpassed, and he led it at last to a -signal triumph. - -In civil as in military life, he was pre-eminent among his -contemporaries for the clearness and soundness of his judgment, for his -perfect moderation and self-control, for the quiet dignity and the -indomitable firmness with which he pursued every path which he had -deliberately chosen. Of all the great men in history he was the most -invariably judicious, and there is scarcely a rash word or action or -judgment recorded of him. Those who knew him well, noticed that he had -keen sensibilities and strong passions; but his power of self-command -never failed him, and no act of his public life can be traced to -personal caprice, ambition, or resentment. In the despondency of -long-continued failure, in the elation of sudden success, at times when -his soldiers were deserting by hundreds and when malignant plots were -formed against his reputation, amid the constant quarrels, rivalries, -and jealousies of his subordinates, in the dark hour of national -ingratitude, and in the midst of the most universal and intoxicating -flattery, he was always the same calm, wise, just, and single-minded -man, pursuing the course which he believed to be right, without fear or -favor or fanaticism; equally free from the passions that spring from -interest and from the passions that spring from imagination. He never -acted on the impulse of an absorbing or uncalculating enthusiasm, and he -valued very highly fortune, position, and reputation; but at the command -of duty he was ready to risk and sacrifice them all. - -He was in the highest sense of the words a gentleman and a man of honor, -and he carried into public life the severest standard of private morals. -It was at first the constant dread of large sections of the American -people that if the old government were overthrown, they would fall into -the hands of military adventurers, and undergo the yoke of military -despotism. It was mainly the transparent integrity of the character of -Washington that dispelled the fear. It was always known by his friends, -and it was soon acknowledged by the whole nation and by the English -themselves, that in Washington America had found a leader who could be -induced by no earthly motive to tell a falsehood, or to break an -engagement, or to commit any dishonorable act. Men of this moral type -are happily not rare, and we have all met them in our experience; but -there is scarcely another instance in history of such a man having -reached and maintained the highest position in the convulsions of civil -war and of a great popular agitation. - -It is one of the great advantages of the long practice of free -institutions, that it diffuses through the community a knowledge of -character and a soundness of judgment which save it from the enormous -mistakes that are almost always made by enslaved nations when suddenly -called upon to choose their rulers. No fact shows so eminently the high -intelligence of the men who managed the American Revolution as their -selection of a leader whose qualities were so much more solid than -brilliant, and who was so entirely free from all the characteristics of -a demagogue. It was only slowly and very deliberately that Washington -identified himself with the revolutionary cause. - -No man had a deeper admiration for the British constitution, or a more -sincere wish to preserve the connection and to put an end to the -disputes between the two countries. In Virginia the revolutionary -movement was preceded and prepared by a democratic movement of the -yeomanry of the province, led by Patrick Henry, against the planter -aristocracy, and Washington was a conspicuous member of the latter. In -tastes, manners, instincts, and sympathies he might have been taken as -an admirable specimen of the better type of English country gentleman, -and he had a great deal of the strong conservative feeling which is -natural to the class. From the first promulgation of the Stamp Act, -however, he adopted a conviction that a recognition of the sole right of -the colonies to tax themselves was essential to their freedom, and as -soon as it became evident that Parliament was resolved at all hazards to -assert and exercise its authority of taxing America, he no longer -hesitated. An interesting letter to his wife, however, shows clearly -that he accepted the proffered command of the American forces with -extreme diffidence and reluctance, and solely because he believed that -it was impossible for him honorably to refuse it. He declined to accept -from Congress any emoluments for his service beyond the simple payment -of his expenses, of which he was accustomed to draw up most exact and -methodical accounts. - - - - -MIRABEAU. - -BY THOMAS CARLYLE. - - [Count Gabriel Honoré Riquetti, born 1749, died 1791; distinguished - as statesman and orator in the days preceding the French - Revolution. The heir of a noble name, his early life was one of - wild excess and eccentric adventure, but already marked by the - intellectual daring and brilliancy which afterward made his name - famous. In 1789 he was elected to the States-General from Aix as - representative, however, of the Third Estate (the Commons), not of - the nobility to which he belonged. Already strongly infected by - liberal theories, his energy, intellectual power and eloquence soon - made him the foremost figure in the great legislative body. At - first antagonistic to royal pretension, he finally recognized the - dangers of the coming revolution at an early stage, and attempted - to stem the current. His efforts to reconcile clashing interests - from 1789 to 1791 were characterized by the most splendid powers - of the orator and statesman. His premature death removed the only - barrier to the rising revolutionary tide. He was the idol of the - populace, and it is believed by many historians that, had he lived, - the French Revolution would have flowed in a different channel.] - - -Which of these six hundred individuals, in plain white cravat, that have -come up to regenerate France, might one guess would become their _king_? -For a king or leader they, as all bodies of men, must have; be their -work what it may, there is one man there who, by character, faculty, -position, is fittest of all to do it; that man, as future not yet -elected king, walks there among the rest. He with the thick black locks, -will it be? With the _hure_, as himself calls it, or black -_boar’s-head_, fit to be “shaken” as a senatorial portent? Through whose -shaggy beetle-brows, and rough-hewed, seamed, carbuncled face, there -look natural ugliness, small-pox, incontinence, bankruptcy--and burning -fire of genius; like comet-fire glaring fuliginous through murkiest -confusions? It is _Gabriel Honoré Riquetti Mirabeau_, the -world-compeller; man-ruling deputy of Aix! According to the Baroness de -Staël, he steps proudly along, though looked at askance here; and shakes -his black _chevelure_, or lion’s-mane, as if prophetic of great deeds. - -Yes, reader, that is the type-Frenchman of this epoch; as Voltaire was -of the last. He is French in his aspirations, acquisitions, in his -virtues, in his vices; perhaps more French than any other man--and -intrinsically such a mass of manhood too. Mark him well. The National -Assembly were all different without that one; nay, he might say with the -old despot: “The National Assembly? I am that.” - -Of a southern climate, of wild southern blood; for the Riquettis, or -Arrighettis, had to fly from Florence and the Guelfs, long centuries -ago, and settled in Provence, where from generation to generation they -have ever approved themselves a peculiar kindred; irascible, -indomitable, sharp-cutting, true, like the steel they wore; of an -intensity and activity that sometimes verged toward madness, yet did -not reach it. One ancient Riquetti, in mad fulfillment of a mad vow, -chains two mountains together; and the chain, with its “iron star of -five rays,” is still to be seen. May not a modern Riquetti _un_chain so -much, and set it drifting--which also shall be seen? - -Destiny has work for that swart burly-headed Mirabeau; Destiny has -watched over him, prepared him from afar. Did not his grandfather, stout -_Col-d’Argent_ (Silver-Stock, so they named him), shattered and slashed -by seven-and-twenty wounds in one fell day, lie sunk together on the -bridge at Casano; while Prince Eugene’s cavalry galloped and regalloped -over him--only the flying sergeant had thrown a camp-kettle over that -loved head; and Vendôme, dropping his spy-glass, moaned out, “Mirabeau -is _dead_, then!” Nevertheless he was not dead: he awoke to breath, and -miraculous surgery--for Gabriel was yet to be. With his _silver-stock_ -he kept his scarred head erect, through long years; and wedded; and -produced tough Marquis Victor, the _Friend of Men_. Whereby at last in -the appointed year, 1749, this long-expected rough-hewed Gabriel Honoré -did likewise see the light; roughest lion’s whelp ever littered of that -rough breed. How the old lion (for our old marquis too was lion-like, -most unconquerable, kingly-genial, most perverse) gazed wondering on his -offspring; and determined to train him as no lion had yet been! It is in -vain, oh Marquis! This cub, though thou slay him and flay him, will not -learn to draw in dogcart of political economy, and be a _Friend of Men_; -he will not be thou, but must and will be himself, another than thou. -Divorce lawsuits, “whole family save one in prison, and three-score -_Lettres-de-Cachet_” for thy own sole use, do but astonish the world. - -Our luckless Gabriel, sinned against and sinning, has been in the Isle -of Rhé and heard the Atlantic from his tower; in the castle of If, and -heard the Mediterranean at Marseilles. He has been in the fortress of -Joux, and forty-two months, with hardly clothing to his back, in the -dungeon of Vincennes--all by _Lettre-de-Cachet_ from his lion father. He -has been in Pontarlier jails (self-constituted prisoner); was noticed -fording estuaries of the sea (at low water), in flight from the face of -men. He has pleaded before Aix parliaments (to get back his wife); the -public gathering on roofs, to see since they could not hear; “the -clatter-teeth (_claque-dents_)!” snarls singular old Mirabeau, -discerning in such admired forensic eloquence nothing but two clattering -jaw-bones, and a head vacant, sonorous, of the drum species. - -But as for Gabriel Honoré, in these strange wayfarings, what has he not -seen and tried! From drill-sergeants to prime-ministers, to foreign and -domestic booksellers, all manner of men he has seen. All manner of men -he has gained; for, at bottom, it is a social, loving heart, that wild, -unconquerable one--more especially all manner of women. From the -archer’s daughter at Saintes to that fair young Sophie Madame Monnier, -whom he could not but “steal,” and be beheaded for--in effigy! For, -indeed, hardly since the Arabian prophet lay dead to Ali’s admiration -was there seen such a love-hero, with the strength of thirty men. In -war, again, he has helped to conquer Corsica; fought duels, irregular -brawls; horsewhipped calumnious barons. In literature, he has written on -“Despotism,” on “Lettres-de-Cachet”; Erotics Sapphic-Werterean, -Obscenities, Profanities; books on the “Prussian Monarchy,” on -“Cagliostro,” on “Calonne,” on “The Water-Companies of Paris”--each book -comparable, we will say, to a bituminous alarm-fire; huge, smoky, -sudden! The fire-pan, the kindling, the bitumen were his own; but the -lumber, of rags, old wood and nameless combustible rubbish (for all is -fuel to him), was gathered from hucksters and ass-panniers of every -description under heaven. Whereby, indeed, hucksters enough have been -heard to exclaim: Out upon it, the fire is _mine_! - -Nay, consider it more generally, seldom had man such a talent for -borrowing. The idea, the faculty of another man he can make his; the man -himself he can make his. “All reflex and echo (_tout de reflet et de -réverbère_)!” snarls old Mirabeau, who can see, but will not. Crabbed -old Friend of Men! it is his sociality, his aggregative nature; and will -now be the quality of qualities for him. In that forty years’ “struggle -against despotism” he has gained the glorious faculty of _self-help_, -and yet not lost the glorious natural gift of _fellowship_, of being -helped. Rare union; this man can live self-sufficing--yet lives also in -the life of other men; can make men love him, work with him; a born king -of men! - -But consider further how, as the old marquis still snarls, he has “made -away with (_humé_, swallowed, snuffed-up) all _formulas_”--a fact, -which, if we meditate it, will in these days mean much. This is no man -of system, then; he is only a man of instincts and insights. A man, -nevertheless, who will glare fiercely on any object, and see through it -and conquer it; for he has intellect, he has will, force beyond other -men. A man not with _logic-spectacles_, but with an _eye_! Unhappily -without decalogue, moral code, or theorem of any fixed sort, yet not -without a strong living soul in him, and sincerity there; a reality, not -an artificiality, not a sham! And so he, having struggled “forty years -against despotism,” and “made away with all formulas,” shall now become -the spokesman of a nation bent to do the same. For is it not precisely -the struggle of France also to cast off despotism; to make away with -_her_ old formulas--having found them naught, worn out, far from the -reality? She will make away with _such_ formulas--and even go _bare_, if -need be, till she have found new ones. - -Toward such work, in such manner, marches he, this singular Riquetti -Mirabeau. In fiery rough figure, with black Samson-locks under the -slouch-hat, he steps along there. A fiery fuliginous mass, which could -not be choked and smothered, but would fill all France with smoke. And -now it has got _air_; it will burn its whole substance, its whole -smoke-atmosphere, too, and fill all France with flame. Strange lot! -Forty years of that smoldering, with foul fire-damp and vapor enough; -then victory over that--and like a burning mountain he blazes -heaven-high; and for twenty-three resplendent months pours out in flame -and molten fire-torrents all that is in him, the Pharos and wonder-sign -of an amazed Europe--and then lies hollow, cold forever! Pass on, thou -questionable Gabriel Honoré, the greatest of them all; in the whole -national deputies, in the whole nation, there is none like and none -second to thee. - - - - -CHARLES JAMES FOX. - -BY WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY. - - [An eminent orator and statesman, born 1749, died 1806. Fox was - noted as being the greatest man of his age in parliamentary debate. - He was the son of Sir Henry Fox, afterward Lord Holland, and was - elected to Parliament while scarcely yet of age. Fox was identified - with the Whig party, and contributed greatly to the success and - firm establishment of liberal and reform principles in politics, - though his private life was careless and dissolute. Though peerless - as a debater, Fox was unsuccessful in commanding public respect and - confidence during his short experiment as premier, and was for the - most of his career a leader of the opposition. The memory of Fox is - endeared to Americans by his sympathy with our revolutionary - struggle, his persistent efforts to prevent the war before it - began, and to secure an early concession of American independence - after the beginning of hostilities.] - - -Charles James Fox was the third son of the first Lord Holland, the old -rival of Pitt. He had entered Parliament irregularly and illegally in -November, 1768, when he had not yet completed his twentieth year, and in -February, 1770, he had been made a lord of the admiralty in the -Government of Lord North. The last political connection of Lord Holland -had been with Bute, and his son appears to have accepted the heritage of -his Tory principles without inquiry or reluctance. His early life was in -the highest degree discreditable, and gave very little promise of -greatness. His vehement and passionate temperament threw him speedily -into the wildest dissipation, and the almost insane indulgence of his -father gratified his every whim. When he was only fourteen Lord Holland -had brought him to the gambling-table at Spa, and, at a time when he had -hardly reached manhood, he was one of the most desperate gamblers of his -day. Lord Holland died in 1774, but before his death he is said to have -paid no less than one hundred and forty thousand pounds in extricating -his son from gambling debts. The death of his mother and the death of -his elder brother in the same year brought him a considerable fortune, -including an estate in the Isle of Thanet and the sinecure office of -clerk of the pells in Ireland, which was worth two thousand three -hundred pounds a year; but in a short time he was obliged to sell or -mortgage everything he possessed. He himself nicknamed his antechamber -the Jerusalem Chamber from the multitude of Jews who haunted it. Lord -Carlisle was at one time security for him to the extent of fifteen or -sixteen thousand pounds. During one of the most critical debates in 1781 -his house was in the occupation of the sheriffs. He was even debtor for -small sums to chairmen and to waiters at Brooks’s; and although in the -latter part of his life he was partly relieved by a large subscription -raised by his friends, he never appears to have wholly emerged from the -money difficulties in which his gambling tastes had involved him. Nor -was this his only vice. - -With some men the passion for gambling is an irresistible moral -monomania, the single morbid taint in a nature otherwise faultless and -pure. With Fox it was but one of many forms of an insatiable appetite -for vicious excitement, which continued with little abatement during -many years of his public career. In 1777, during a long visit to Paris, -he lived much in the society of Madame du Deffand, and that very acute -judge of character formed an opinion of him which was, on the whole, -very unfavorable. He has much talent, she said, much goodness of heart -and natural truthfulness, but he is absolutely without principle, he has -a contempt for every one who has principle, he lives in a perpetual -intoxication of excitement, he never gives a thought to the morrow, he -is a man eminently fitted to corrupt youth. In 1779, when he was already -one of the foremost politicians in England, he was one night drinking at -Almack’s with Lord Derby, Major Stanley, and a few other young men of -rank, when they determined at three in the morning to make a tour -through the streets, and amused themselves by instigating a mob to break -the windows of the chief members of the Government. - -His profligacy with women during a great part of his life was notorious, -though he appears at last to have confined himself to his connection -with Mrs. Armistead, whom he secretly married in September, 1795. He was -the soul of a group of brilliant and profligate spendthrifts, who did -much to dazzle and corrupt the fashionable youth of the time; and in -judging the intense animosity with which George III always regarded him, -it must not be forgotten that his example and his friendship had -probably a considerable influence in encouraging the Prince of Wales in -those vicious habits and in that undutiful course of conduct which -produced so much misery in the palace and so much evil in the nation. -One of the friends of Charles Fox summed up his whole career in a few -significant sentences. “He had three passions--women, play, and -politics. Yet he never formed a creditable connection with a woman. He -squandered all his means at the gaming-table, and, except for eleven -months, he was invariably in opposition.” - -That a man of whom all this can be truly said should have taken a high -and honorable place in English history, and should have won for himself -the perennial love and loyalty of some of the best Englishmen of his -time, is not a little surprising, for a life such as I have described -would with most men have destroyed every fiber of intellectual energy -and of moral worth. But in truth there are some characters which nature -has so happily compounded that even vice is unable wholly to degrade -them, and there is a charm of manner and of temper which sometimes -accompanies the excesses of a strong animal nature that wins more -popularity in the world than the purest and the most self-denying -virtue. Of this truth Fox was an eminent example. With a herculean -frame, with iron nerves, with that happy vividness and buoyancy of -temperament that can ever throw itself passionately into the pursuits -and the impressions of the hour, and can then cast them aside without an -effort, he combined one of the sweetest of human tempers, one of the -warmest of human hearts. - -Nothing in his career is more remarkable than the spell which he cast -over men who in character and principles were as unlike as possible to -himself. “He is a man,” said Burke, “made to be loved, of the most -artless, candid, open, and benevolent disposition; disinterested in the -extreme, of a temper mild and placable to a fault, without one drop of -gall in his whole constitution.” “The power of a superior man,” said -Gibbon, “was blended in his attractive character with the softness and -simplicity of a child. Perhaps no human being was ever more perfectly -exempt from the taint of malevolence, vanity, or falsehood.” “He -possessed,” said Erskine, “above all men I ever knew, the most gentle, -and yet the most ardent spirit.” He retained amid all his vices a -capacity for warm and steady friendship, a capacity for struggling -passionately and persistently in opposition, for an unpopular cause; a -purity of taste and a love of literature which made him, with the -exception of Burke, the foremost scholar among the leading members of -the House of Commons; an earnestness, disinterestedness, and simplicity -of character which was admitted and admired even by his political -opponents. - -He resembled Bolingbroke in his power of passing at once from scenes of -dissipation into the House of Commons, and in retaining in public -affairs during the most disorderly periods of his private life all his -soundness of judgment and all his force of eloquence and of decision. -Gibbon described how he “prepared himself” for one important debate by -spending twenty-two previous hours at the hazard table and losing eleven -thousand pounds. Walpole extols the extraordinary brilliancy of the -speech which he made on another occasion, when he had but just arrived -from Newmarket and had been sitting up drinking the whole of the -preceding night, and he states that in the early period of his brilliant -opposition to the American policy of North he was rarely in bed before -five in the morning, or out of it before two in the afternoon. Yet, like -Bolingbroke, he never lost the taste and passion for study even at the -time when he was most immersed in a life of pleasure. - -At Eton and Oxford he had been a very earnest student, and few of his -contemporaries can have had a wider knowledge of the imaginative -literatures of Greece, Italy, or France. He was passionately fond of -poetry, and a singularly delicate and discriminating critic; but he -always looked upon literature chiefly from its ornamental and -imaginative side. Incomparably the most important book relating to the -art of government which appeared during his lifetime was the “Wealth of -Nations,” but Fox once owned that he had never read it; and the history -which was his one serious composition added nothing to his reputation. -In books, however, he found an unfailing solace in trouble and -disappointment. One morning, when one of his friends having heard that -Fox on the previous night had been completely ruined at the -gaming-table, went to visit and console him, he found him tranquilly -reading Herodotus in the original. “What,” he said, “would you have a -man do who has lost his last shilling?” - -His merits as a politician can only he allowed with great deductions and -qualifications. But little stress should indeed be laid on the sudden -and violent change in his political principles, which was faintly -foreshadowed in 1772 and fully accomplished in 1774, though that change -did undoubtedly synchronize with his personal quarrel with Lord North. -Changes of principle and policy, which at forty or fifty would indicate -great instability of character, are very venial at twenty-four or -twenty-five, and from the time when Fox joined the Whig party his career -through long years of adversity and of trial was singularly consistent. -I can not, however, regard a politician either as a great statesman or a -great party leader who left so very little of permanent value behind -him, who offended so frequently and so bitterly the national feelings of -his countrymen, who on two memorable occasions reduced his party to the -lowest stage of depression, and who failed so signally during a long -public life in winning the confidence of the nation. - -His failure is the more remarkable as one of the features most -conspicuous both in his speeches and his letters is the general -soundness of his judgment, and his opinions during the greater part of -his life were singularly free from every kind of violence, exaggeration, -and eccentricity. Much of it was due to his private life, much to his -divergence from popular opinion on the American question and on the -question of the French Revolution, and much also to an extraordinary -deficiency in the art of party management, and to the frequent -employment of language which, though eminently adapted to the immediate -purposes of debate, was certain from its injudicious energy to be -afterward quoted against him. Like more than one great master of words, -he was trammeled and injured at every stage of his career by his own -speeches. The extreme shock which the disastrous coalition of 1784 gave -to the public opinion of England was largely, if not mainly, due to the -outrageous violence of the language with which Fox had in the preceding -years denounced Lord North, and a similar violence made his breach with -the court irrevocable, and greatly aggravated his difference with the -nation on the question of the French Revolution. - -But if his rank as a statesman and as a party leader is by no means of -the highest order, he stood, by the concurrent testimony of all his -contemporaries, in the very first line, if not in the very first place, -among English parliamentary debaters. He threw the whole energy of his -character into his career, and he practiced it continually till he -attained a dexterity in debate which to his contemporaries appeared -little less than miraculous. “During five whole sessions,” he once said, -“I spoke every night but one, and I regret only that I did not speak on -that night.” With a delivery that in the beginning of his speeches was -somewhat slow and hesitating, with little method, with great repetition, -with no grace of gesture, with an utter indifference to the mere oratory -of display, thinking of nothing but how to convince and persuade the -audience who were immediately before him, never for a moment forgetting -the vital issue, never employing an argument which was not completely -level with the apprehensions of his audience, he possessed to the very -highest degree the debating qualities which an educated political -assembly of Englishmen most highly value. - -The masculine vigor and strong common sense of his arguments, his -unfailing lucidity, his power of grasping in a moment the essential -issue of a debate, his skill in hitting blots and throwing the arguments -on his own side into the most vivid and various lights, his marvelous -memory in catching up the scattered threads of a debate, the rare -combination in his speeches of the most glowing vehemence of style with -the closest and most transparent reasoning, and the air of intense -conviction which he threw into every discussion, had never been -surpassed. He was one of the fairest of debaters, and it was said that -the arguments of his opponents were very rarely stated with such -masterly power as by Fox himself before he proceeded to grapple with, -and to overthrow them. - -He possessed to the highest degree what Walpole called the power of -“declaiming argument,” and that combination of rapidity and soundness of -judgment which is the first quality of a debater. “Others,” said Sir -George Savile, “may have had more stock, but Fox had more ready money -about him than any of his party.” “I believe,” said Lord Carlisle, -“there never was a person yet created who had the faculty of reasoning -like him.” “Nature,” said Horace Walpole, “had made him the most -wonderful reasoner of the age.” “He possessed beyond all moderns,” wrote -Mackintosh, “that union of reason, simplicity, and vehemence which -formed the prince of orators.” “Had he been bred to the bar,” wrote -Philip Francis, “he would in my judgment have made himself in a shorter -time, and with much less application than any other man, the most -powerful litigant that ever appeared there.” “He rose by slow degrees,” -said Burke, “to be the most brilliant and accomplished debater the world -ever saw.” His finest speeches were wholly unpremeditated, and the -complete subordination in them of all rhetorical and philosophical -ambition to the immediate purpose of the debate has greatly impaired -their permanent value; but, even in the imperfect fragments that remain, -the essential qualities of his eloquence may be plainly seen. - - - - -JEAN PAUL MARAT. - -BY HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE. - - [A leader of the revolutionary Reign of Terror in France, born in - 1744, assassinated by Charlotte Corday in 1793. His energy and - ferocity made him a power, which he never could have become by his - talents. He was the right hand of Robespierre, and the principal - agent in the destruction of the Girondist party in 1793. With - Danton and Robespierre he formed the triumvirate which turned - France into a vast human shambles.] - - -Three men among the Jacobins--Marat, Danton, and Robespierre--merited -distinction and possessed authority. Owing to a malformation, or -distortion, of head and heart, they fulfilled the requisite conditions. -Of the three, Marat is the most monstrous; he borders on the lunatic, of -which he displays the chief characteristics--furious exaltation, -constant overexcitement, feverish restlessness, an inexhaustible -propensity for scribbling, that mental automatism and tetanus of the -will under the constraint and rule of a fixed idea, and, in addition to -this, the usual physical symptoms, such as sleeplessness, a livid tint, -bad blood, foulness of dress and person, with, during the last five -months of his life, irritations and eruptions over his whole body. -Issuing from incongruous races, born of a mixed blood, and tainted with -serious moral commotions, he harbors within him a singular germ; -physically he is an abortion, morally a pretender, and one who covets -all places of distinction. - -His father, who was a physician, intended from his early childhood that -he should be a _savant_; his mother, an idealist, meant that he should -be a philanthropist, while he himself always steered his course toward -both summits. “At five years of age,” he says, “it would have pleased me -to be a schoolmaster, at fifteen a professor, at eighteen an author, and -a creative genius at twenty,” and afterward, up to the last, an apostle -and martyr to humanity. “From my earliest infancy I had an intense love -of fame, which changed its object at various stages of my life, but -which never left me for a moment.” He rambled over Europe or vegetated -in Paris for thirty years, living a nomadic life in subordinate -positions; hissed as an author, distrusted as a man of science, and -ignored as a philosopher; a third rate political writer, aspiring to -every sort of celebrity and to every honor, constantly presenting -himself as a candidate and as constantly rejected--too great a -disproportion between his faculties and ambition. - -Talentless, possessing no critical acumen, and of mediocre intelligence, -he was fitted only to teach some branch of the sciences, or to practice -some one of the arts, either as professor or doctor, more or less bold -and lucky, or to follow, with occasional slips on one side or the other, -some path clearly marked out for him. Never did man with such -diversified culture possess such an incurably perverted intellect. Never -did man, after so many abortive speculations and such repeated -malpractices, conceive and maintain so high an opinion of himself. Each -of these two sources in him augments the other; through his faculty of -not seeing things as they are, he attributes to himself virtue and -genius; satisfied that he possesses genius and virtue, he regards his -misdeeds as merits and his crotchets as truths. - -Thenceforth, and spontaneously, his malady runs its own course and -becomes complex; next to the ambitious delirium comes the _mania for -persecution_. In effect, the evident or demonstrated truths which he -supplies should strike the public at once; if they burn slowly or miss -fire, it is owing to their being stamped out by enemies or the envious; -manifestly, they have conspired against him, and against him plots have -never ceased. First came the philosophers’ plot; when his treatise on -“Man” reached Paris from Amsterdam, “they felt the blow I struck at -their principles and had the book stopped at the custom-house.” Next -came the plot of the doctors, who “ruefully estimated my enormous gains. -Were it necessary, I could prove that they often met together to -consider the best way to destroy my reputation.” Finally, came the plot -of the academicians; “the disgraceful persecution I had to undergo from -the Academy of Sciences for two years, after being satisfied that my -discoveries on light upset all that it had done for a century, and that -I was quite indifferent about becoming a member of its body.... Would it -be believed that these scientific charlatans succeeded in underrating -my discoveries throughout Europe, in exciting every society of _savants_ -against me, and in closing against me all the newspapers!” Naturally, -the would-be-persecuted man defends himself--that is to say, he attacks. -Naturally, as he is the aggressor, he is repulsed and put down, and, -after creating imaginary enemies, he creates real ones, especially in -politics, where, on principle, he daily preaches insurrection and -murder. - -Naturally, in fine, he is prosecuted, convicted at the Chatelet Court, -tracked by the police, obliged to fly and wander from one hiding-place -to another; to live like a bat “in a cellar, underground, in a dark -dungeon”; once, says his friend Panis, he passed “six weeks on one of -his buttocks,” like a madman in his cell, face to face with his -reveries. It is not surprising that, with such a system, the reverie -should become more intense, more and more gloomy, and at last settle -down into a _confirmed nightmare_; that, in his distorted brain, objects -should appear distorted; that, even in full daylight, men and things -should seem awry, as in a magnifying, dislocating mirror; that -frequently, on the numbers (of his journal) appearing too blood-thirsty, -and his chronic disease too acute, his physician should bleed him to -arrest these attacks and prevent their return. When a madman sees -everywhere around him--on the floors, on the walls, on the -ceiling--toads, scorpions, spiders, swarms of crawling, loathsome -vermin, he thinks only of crushing them, and the disease enters on its -last stage; after the ambitious delirium, the mania for persecution, and -the settled nightmare, comes the homicidal mania. At the outset a few -lives would have sufficed: “Five hundred heads ought to have fallen when -the Bastile was taken, and all would then have gone on well.” But, -through lack of foresight and timidity, the evil was allowed to spread, -and the more it spread the larger the amputation should have been. With -the sure, keen eye of the surgeon, Marat gives its dimensions; he has -made his calculation beforehand. In September, 1792, in the Council at -the Commune, he estimates approximatively forty thousand as the number -of heads that should be laid low. Six weeks later, the social abscess -having enormously increased, the figures swell in proportion; he now -demands two hundred and seventy thousand heads, always on the score of -humanity, “to insure public tranquillity,” on condition that the -operation be intrusted to him, as the summary, temporary justiciary. -Save this last point the rest is granted to him; it is unfortunate that -he could not see with his own eyes the complete fulfillment of his -programme, the batches condemned by the revolutionary tribunal, the -massacres of Lyons and Toulon, the drownings of Nantes. From first to -last he was in the right line of the revolution; lucid on account of his -blindness, thanks to his crazy logic, thanks to the concordance of his -personal malady with the public malady, to the precocity of his complete -madness alongside of the incomplete or tardy madness of the rest, he -alone steadfast, remorseless, triumphant, perched aloft, at the first -bound, on the sharp pinnacle, which his rivals dared not climb, or only -stumbled up. - - - - -PRINCE TALLEYRAND. - -BY ARCHIBALD ALISON. - - [Charles Maurice Prince de Talleyrand-Perigord, one of the most - distinguished of modern French statesmen and diplomatists, born in - 1754, died in 1838. Originally a churchman, he became Bishop of - Autun in 1788, though notorious for loose and licentious living. - During the period of the revolution Talleyrand was in England and - America. He returned to France in 1797, and under the Directory was - called to the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. He was of great - assistance to Napoleon in accomplishing his _coup d’état_, and - thenceforward was the French ruler’s trusted adviser in all matters - of state till 1807, when a coldness grew on Napoleon’s part. - Talleyrand’s bitter and pungent criticisms on Napoleon’s policy so - enraged the emperor that he finally deprived him of his lucrative - offices. In 1812 he foretold the coming downfall of Napoleon, and - the accomplishment of the prediction achieved for him the - admiration of Europe. While the allies were advancing on Paris in - 1814, Talleyrand was in secret communication with them. After the - restoration of the Bourbons, Talleyrand took but little part in - public affairs till 1830, when, as ambassador to England, he - negotiated an important treaty settling the status of the peninsula - kingdoms of Spain and Portugal.] - - -Never was character more opposite to that of the Russian autocrat than -that of his great coadjutor in the pacification and settlement of -Europe, Prince Talleyrand. This most remarkable man was born at Paris in -1754, so that in 1814 he was already sixty years of age. He was -descended of an old family, and had for his maternal aunt the celebrated -Princess of Ursius, who played so important a part in the war of the -succession at the court of Philippe V.[29] Being destined for the -Church, he early entered the seminary of St. Sulpice, and even there was -remarkable for the delicate vein of sarcasm, nice discrimination, and -keen penetration, for which he afterward became so distinguished in -life. At the age of twenty-six he was appointed agent-general for the -clergy, and in that capacity his administrative talents were so -remarkable that they procured for him the situation of Bishop of Autun, -which he held in 1789, when the revolution broke out. So remarkable had -his talents become at this period that Mirabeau, in his secret -correspondence with Berlin, pointed him out as one of the most eminent -men of the age. - -He was elected representative of the clergy of his diocese for the -Constitute Assembly, and was one of the first of that rank in the Church -who voted on the 29th of May for the junction of the ecclesiastical body -with the _Tiers État_. He also took the lead in all the measures, then -so popular, which had for their object to spoliate the Church, and apply -its possessions to the service of the state; accordingly, he himself -proposed the suppression of tithes and the application of the property -of the Church to the public treasury. In all these measures he was deaf -to the remonstrances of the clergy whom he represented, and already he -had severed all the cords which bound him to the Church. - -His ruling principle was not any peculiar enmity to religion, but a -fixed determination to adhere to the dominant party, whatever it was, -whether in Church or state; to watch closely the signs of the times, and -throw in his lot with that section of the community which appeared -likely to gain the superiority. In February, 1790, he was appointed -President of the Assembly, and from that time forward, down to its -dissolution, he took a leading part in all its measures. He was not, -however, an orator; knowledge of men and prophetic sagacity were his -great qualifications. Generally silent in the hall of debate, he soon -gained the lead in the council of deliberation or committee of -management. He officiated as constitutional bishop to the great scandal -of the more orthodox clergy in the great _fête_ on the 14th of July, -1790, in the Champ de Mars; but he had already become fearful of the -excesses of the popular party, and was, perhaps, the only person to whom -Mirabeau on his deathbed communicated his secret views and designs for -the restoration of the French monarchy. - -Early in 1792 he set out on a secret mission to London, where he -remained till the breaking out of the war in February, 1793, and enjoyed -much of the confidence of Mr. Pitt. He naturally enough became an object -of jealousy to both parties, being denounced by the Jacobins as an -emissary of the court, and by the Royalists as an agent of the Jacobins; -and, in consequence, he was accused and condemned in his absence, and -only escaped by withdrawing to America, where he remained till 1795 -engaged in commercial pursuits. It was not the least proof of his -address and sagacity that he thus avoided equally the crimes and the -dangers of the Reign of Terror, and returned to Paris at the close of -that year with his head on his shoulders, and without deadly hostility -to any party in his heart. - -His influence and abilities soon caused themselves to be felt; the -sentence of death, which had been recorded against him in his absence, -was soon recalled; he became a leading member of the Club of Salm, which -in 1797 was established to counterbalance the efforts of the Royalists -in the Club of Clichy; and on the triumph of the revolutionists by the -violence of Augereau in July, 1797, he was appointed Minister of Foreign -Affairs. Nevertheless, aware of the imbecility of the directorial -government, he entered warmly into the views of Napoleon, upon his -return from Egypt, for its overthrow. He was again made Minister of -Foreign Affairs by that youthful conqueror after the 18th Brumaire, and -continued, with some few interruptions, to be the soul of all foreign -negotiations and the chief director of foreign policy, down to the -measures directed against Spain in 1807. On that occasion, however, his -wonted sagacity did not desert him; he openly disapproved of the attack -on the peninsula, and was, in consequence, dismissed from office, which -he did not again hold till he was appointed chief of the provisional -government on the 1st of April, 1814. He had thus the singular address, -though a leading character under both _régimes_, to extricate himself -both from the crimes of the revolution and the misfortunes of the -Empire. - -He was no ordinary man who could accomplish so great a prodigy and yet -retain such influence as to step, as it were, by common consent into the -principal direction of affairs on the overthrow of Napoleon. His power -of doing so depended not merely on his great talents; they alone, if -unaccompanied by other qualifications, would inevitably have brought him -to the guillotine under the first government or the prisons of state -under the last. It was his extraordinary versatility and flexibility of -disposition, and the readiness with which he accommodated himself to -every change of government and dynasty which he thought likely to be -permanent, that mainly contributed to this extraordinary result. Such -was his address that, though the most changeable character in the whole -revolution, he contrived never to lose either influence or reputation by -all his tergiversations; but, on the contrary, went on constantly rising -to the close of his career, when above eighty years of age, in weight, -fortune, and consideration. - -The very fact of his having survived, both in person and influence, so -many changes of government, which had proved fatal to almost all his -contemporaries, of itself constituted a colossal reputation; and when he -said, with a sarcastic smile, on taking the oath of fidelity to Louis -Philippe in 1830, “_C’est le treisiéme_,” the expression, repeated from -one end of Europe to the other, produced a greater admiration for his -address than indignation at his perfidy. - -He has been well described as the person in existence who had the least -hand in producing, and the greatest power of profiting, by revolutions. -He was not destitute of original thought, but wholly without the -generous feeling, the self-forgetfulness, which prompt the great in -character as well as talent to bring forth their conceptions in word or -action, at whatever hazard to themselves or their fortunes. His object -always was not to direct, but to observe and guide the current; he never -opposed it when he saw it was irresistible, nor braved its dangers where -it threatened to be perilous, but quietly withdrew until an opportunity -occurred, by the destruction alike of its supporters and its opponents, -to obtain its direction. In this respect his talents very closely -resembled those of Metternich, of whom a character has already been -drawn; but he was less consistent than the wary Austrian diplomatist, -and, though equaled by him in dissimulation, he was far his superior in -perfidy. - -It cost him nothing to contradict and violate his oaths whenever it -suited his interest to do so, and the extraordinary and almost unbroken -success of his career affords, as well as that of Napoleon, the most -striking confirmation of the profound saying of Johnson--that no man -ever raised himself from private life to the supreme direction of -affairs, in whom great abilities were not combined with certain -meannesses, which would have proved altogether fatal to him in ordinary -life. - -Yet was he without any of the great vices of the revolution; his -selfishness was constant, his cupidity unbounded, his hands often -sullied by gold, but he was not cruel or unforgiving in his disposition, -and few, if any, deeds of blood stain his memory. His witticisms and -_bon mots_ were admirable, and repeated from one end of Europe to the -other; yet was his reputation in this respect, perhaps, greater than the -reality, for, by common consent, every good saying at Paris during his -life-time was ascribed to the ex-Bishop of Autun. But none perhaps more -clearly reveals his character and explains his success in life than the -celebrated one, “That the principal object of language is to conceal the -thought.” - - - - -GEORGE JACQUES DANTON. - -BY HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE. - - [A principal leader in French revolutionary times, born 1759, - executed 1794. He was one of the first to advocate violent - measures, organized the attack on the Tuileries in 1792, and was - principally instrumental in bringing on the dreadful September - massacres of the same year, when all those confined in the Paris - prisons were slaughtered. On being elected to the convention, he - was foremost in forcing on the trial of the king, and afterward, as - a member of the Committee of Public Safety, in breaking the power - of the Girondists, though he would have spared their lives. He - incurred the hate of Robespierre by those inclinations to mercy and - moderation which would have put an end to the Reign of Terror, and - was sent to the scaffold by the plots of his cunning and implacable - adversary.] - - -Between the demagogue and the highwayman the resemblance is close; both -are leaders of bands, and each requires an opportunity to organize his -band. Danton, to organize his band, required the revolution. “Of low -birth, without a patron,” penniless, every office being filled, and “the -Paris bar unattainable,” admitted a lawyer after “a struggle,” he for a -long time strolled about the streets without a brief, or frequented the -coffee-houses, the same as similar men nowadays frequent the beer-shops. -At the Café de l’École, the proprietor, a good-natured old fellow “in a -small round perruque, gray coat, and a napkin on his arm,” circulated -among his tables smiling blandly, while his daughter sat in the rear as -cashier. Danton chatted with her, and demanded her hand in marriage. To -obtain her he had to mend his ways, purchase an attorneyship in the -Court of the Royal Council, and find bondsmen and indorsers in his small -native town. - -Wedded and lodged in the gloomy Passage du Commerce, “more burdened with -debts than with causes,” tied down to a sedentary profession which -demands vigorous application, accuracy, a moderate tone, a respectable -style, and blameless deportment; obliged to keep house on so small a -scale that, without the help of a _louis_ regularly advanced to him each -week by his coffee-house father-in-law, he could not make both ends -meet; his free-and-easy tastes, his alternately impetuous and indolent -disposition, his love of enjoyment and of having his own way, his rude, -violent instincts, his expansiveness, creativeness, and activity, all -rebel; he is ill-calculated for the quiet routine of our civil careers; -it is not the steady discipline of an old society that suits him, but -the tumultuous brutality of a society going to pieces, or one in a state -of formation. In temperament and character he is a _barbarian_, and a -barbarian born to command his fellow-creatures, like this or that vassal -of the sixth century or baron of the tenth century. - -A colossus with the head of a “Tartar,” pitted with the small-pox, -tragically and terribly ugly, with a mask convulsed like that of a -growling “bull-dog,” with small, cavernous, restless eyes buried under -the huge wrinkles of a threatening brow, with a thundering voice, and -moving and acting like a combatant, full-blooded, boiling over with -passion and energy, his strength in its outbursts seeming illimitable, -like the forces of Nature, roaring like a bull when speaking, and heard -through closed windows fifty yards off in the street, employing -immoderate imagery, intensely in earnest, trembling with indignation, -revenge, and patriotic sentiments, able to arouse savage instincts in -the most tranquil breast and generous instincts in the most brutal, -profane, using emphatic terms, cynical, not monotonously so, and -affectedly like Hébert, but spontaneously and to the point, full of -crude jests worthy of Rabelais, possessing a stock of jovial sensuality -and good-humor, cordial and familiar in his ways, frank, friendly in -tone; in short, outwardly and inwardly the best-fitted for winning the -confidence and sympathy of a Gallic-Parisian populace, and all -contributing to the formation of “his inborn, practical popularity,” and -to make of him “a grand seignior of _sans-culotterie_.” - -Thus endowed for playing a part, there is a strong temptation to act it -the moment the theatre is ready, whether this be a mean one, got up for -the occasion, and the actors rogues, scamps, and prostitutes, or the -part an ignoble one, murderous, and finally fatal to him who undertakes -it. He comprehended from the first the ultimate object and definite -result of the revolution, that is to say, the dictatorship of the -violent minority. Immediately after the “14th of July,” 1789, he -organized in his quarter of the city a small independent republic, -aggressive and predominant, the center of the faction, a refuge for the -riff-raff and a rendezvous for fanatics, a pandemonium composed of every -available madcap, every rogue, visionary, shoulder-hitter, newspaper -scribbler, and stump-speaker, either a secret or avowed plotter of -murder, Camille Desmoulins, Fréron, Hébert, Chaumette, Clootz, -Théroigne, Marat--while, in this more than Jacobin state, the model in -anticipation of that he is to establish later, he reigns, as he will -afterward reign, the permanent president of the district, commander of -the battalion, orator of the club, and the concocter of bold -undertakings. In order to set the machine up, he cleared the ground, -fused the metal, hammered out the principal pieces, filed off the -blisterings, designed the action, adjusted the minor wheels, set it -a-going and indicated what it had to do, and, at the same time, he -forged the plating which guarded it from the foreigner and against all -outward violence. The machine being his, why, after constructing it, did -he not serve as its engineer? - -Because, if competent to construct it, he was not qualified to manage -it. In a crisis he may take hold of the wheel himself, excite an -assembly or a mob in his favor, carry things with a high hand, and -direct an executive committee for a few weeks. But he dislikes regular, -persistent labor; he is not made for studying documents, for poring over -papers, and confining himself to administrative routine. Never, like -Robespierre and Billaud, can he attend to both official and police -duties at the same time, carefully reading minute daily reports, -annotating mortuary lists, extemporizing ornate abstractions, coolly -enunciating falsehoods, and acting out the patient, satisfied -inquisitor; and, especially, he can never become the systematic -executioner. - -On the one hand, his eyes are not obscured by the gray veil of theory; -he does not regard men through the “Contrat-Social” as a sum of -arithmetical units, but as they really are, living, suffering, shedding -their blood, especially those he knows, each with his peculiar -physiognomy and demeanor. Compassion is excited by all this when one has -any feeling, and he had. Danton had a heart; he had the quick -sensibilities of a man of flesh and blood stirred by the primitive -instincts, the good ones along with the bad ones, instincts which -culture had neither impaired nor deadened, which allowed him to plan and -permit the September massacre, but which did not allow him to practice, -daily and blindly, systematic and wholesale murder. Already in -September, “cloaking his pity under his bellowing,” he had shielded or -saved many eminent men from the butchers. When the ax is about to fall -on the Girondists, he is “ill with grief” and despair. “I am unable to -save them,” he exclaimed, “and big tears streamed down his cheeks.” - -On the other hand, his eyes are not covered by the bandage of incapacity -or lack of forethought. He detected the innate vice of the system, the -inevitable and approaching suicide of the revolution. “The Girondists -forced us to throw ourselves upon the _sans-culotterie_ which has -devoured them, which will devour us, and which will eat itself up.” “Let -Robespierre and Saint-Just alone, and there will soon be nothing left in -France but a Thebaid of political Trappists.” At the end he sees more -clearly still. “On a day like this I organized the revolutionary -tribunal.... I ask pardon for it of God and man.... In revolutions, -authority remains with the greatest scoundrels.... It is better to be a -poor fisherman than govern men.” - -Nevertheless, he professed to govern them; he constructed a new machine -for the purpose, and, deaf to its creaking, it worked in conformity with -its structure and the impulse he gave to it. It towers before him, this -sinister machine, with its vast wheel and iron cogs grinding all France, -their multiplied teeth pressing out each individual life, its steel -blade constantly rising and falling, and, as it plays faster and faster, -daily exacting a larger and larger supply of human material, while those -who furnish this supply are held to be as insensible and as senseless as -itself. Danton can not, or will not, be so. He gets out of the way, -diverts himself, gambles, forgets; he supposes that the titular -decapitators will probably consent to take no notice of him; in any -case, they do not pursue him; “they would not dare do it.... No one must -lay hands on me; I am the ark.” At the worst he prefers “to be -guillotined rather than guillotine.” Having said or thought this, he is -ripe for the scaffold. - - - - -ROBESPIERRE. - -BY HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE. - - [Maximilian Marie Isadore de Robespierre, the most powerful figure - among the French revolutionists, born 1758, guillotined 1794. By - profession an attorney, he was elected to the Constituent Assembly, - the States General, in 1789, from Arras. Profoundly imbued with the - theories of Rousseau, he was from the beginning a fierce assailant - of the monarchy, and after Mirabeau’s death rapidly acquired a - commanding position in public affairs. In the National Convention, - which succeeded the dissolution of the States General and the - abdication and imprisonment of Louis XVI, Robespierre was a - prominent leader, and identified himself with the extreme party, - the Jacobins, called the “Mountain,” from the elevated seats on - which they sat. During this earlier part of his political career he - affected opposition to capital punishment, and remonstrated with - Danton against the September massacres. He led the Jacobins, - however, in demanding the trial and death of the king, and proposed - the decree organizing the Committee of Public Safety, which was - clothed with omnipotent sway. When he became a member of this - terrible body he speedily instituted what is known as “the Reign of - Terror,” beginning with the destruction of the Girondists, against - whom he formulated the deadly epigram: “There are periods in - revolutions when to live is a crime.” Danton was sacrificed to his - envy and fears as a dangerous rival. Robespierre’s overthrow, after - about a year of practical dictatorship, was owing to two causes, - which inspired the wavering courage of his opponents in the - convention. The mistress of Tallien, a prominent revolutionist, lay - in prison expecting a daily call to the guillotine. Carnot (the - grandfather of the present chief of the French republic) attended a - dinner-party at which Robespierre was present. The heat of the day - had caused the guests to throw off their coats, and Carnot in - looking for a paper took Robespierre’s coat by mistake, in the - pocket of which he saw the memorandum containing the names of those - prescribed for the guillotine, among them his own and those of - other guests. On the 9th Thermidor, July 27, 1794, occurred the - outbreak in the convention which broke Roberspierre’s power, and on - the following day sent him to the guillotine, thus ending the Reign - of Terror.] - - -Marat and Danton finally become effaced, or efface themselves, and the -stage is left to Robespierre who absorbs attention. If we would -comprehend him we must look at him as he stands in the midst of his -surroundings. At the last stage of an intellectual vegetation passing -away, he remains on the last branch of the eighteenth century, the most -abortive and driest offshoot of the classical spirit. He has retained -nothing of a worn-out system of philosophy but its lifeless dregs and -well-conned formulæ, the formulæ of Rousseau, Mably, and Raynal, -concerning “the people, nature, reason, liberty, tyrants, factions, -virtue, morality,” a ready-made vocabulary, expressions too ample, the -meaning of which, ill-defined by the masters, evaporates in the hands of -the disciple. He never tries to get at this; his writings and speeches -are merely long strings of vague abstract periods; there is no telling -fact in them, no distinct, characteristic detail, no appeal to the eye -evoking a living image, no personal, special observation, no clear, -frank, original impression. - -It might be said of him that he never saw anything with his own eyes, -that he neither could nor would see, that false conceptions have -intervened and fixed themselves between him and the object; he combines -these in logical sequence, and simulates the absent thought by an -affected jargon, and this is all. The other Jacobins alongside of him -likewise use the same scholastic jargon; but none of them expatiate on -it so lengthily. For hours, we grope after him in the vague shadows of -political speculation, in the cold and perplexing mist of didactic -generalities, trying in vain to make something out of his colorless -tirades, and we grasp nothing. We then, astonished, ask what all this -talk amounts to, and why he talks at all; the answer is, that he has -said nothing and that he talks only for the sake of talking, the same as -a sectary preaching to his congregation, neither the preacher nor his -audience ever wearying, the one of turning the dogmatic crank, and the -other of listening. So much the better if the hopper is empty; the -emptier it is the easier and faster the crank turns. And better still, -if the empty term he selects is used in a contrary sense; the sonorous -words justice, humanity, mean to him piles of human heads, the same as a -text from the gospels means to a grand inquisitor the burning of -heretics. - -Now, his first passion, his principal passion, is literary vanity. Never -was the chief of a party, sect, or government, even at critical moments, -such an incurable, insignificant rhetorician, so formal, so pompous, and -so vapid. On the eve of the 9th of Thermidor, when it was necessary to -conquer or die, he enters the tribune with a set speech, written and -rewritten, polished and repolished, overloaded with studied ornaments -and bits for effect, coated by dint of time and labor, with the academic -varnish, the glitter of symmetrical antitheses, rounded periods, -exclamations, preteritions, apostrophes, and other tricks of the pen. -There is no sign of true inspiration in his elaborate eloquence, nothing -but recipes, and those of a worn-out art--Greek and Roman commonplaces, -Socrates and the hemlock, Brutus and his dagger, classic metaphors like -“the flambeaux of discord,” and “the vessel of state,” words coupled -together and beauties of style which a pupil in rhetoric aims at on the -college bench; sometimes a grand bravura air, so essential for parade in -public; oftentimes a delicate strain of the flute, for, in those days, -one must have a tender heart; in short, Marmontel’s method in -“Belisarius,” or that of Thomas in his “Eloges,” all borrowed from -Rousseau, but of inferior quality, like a sharp, thin voice strained to -imitate a rich, powerful voice; a sort of involuntary parody, and the -more repulsive because a word ends in a blow, because a sentimental, -declamatory Trissotin poses as statesman, because the studied elegances -of the closet become pistol shots aimed at living breasts, because an -epithet skillfully directed sends a man to the guillotine. - -Robespierre, unlike Danton, has no cravings. He is sober; he is not -tormented by his senses; if he gives way to them, it is only no further -than he can help, and with a bad grace; in the Rue Saintonge in Paris, -“for seven months,” says his secretary, “I knew of but one woman that he -kept company with, and he did not treat her very well.... Very often he -would not let her enter his room”; when busy, he must not be disturbed; -he is naturally steady, hard-working, studious and fond of seclusion, at -college a model pupil, at home in his province an attentive advocate, a -punctual deputy in the Assembly, everywhere free of temptation and -incapable of going astray. “Irreproachable” is the word which, from -early youth, an inward voice constantly repeats to him in low tones to -console him for obscurity and patience. Thus has he ever been, is now, -and ever will be; he says this to himself, tells others so, and on this -foundation, all of a piece, he builds up his character. He is not, like -Desmoulins, to be seduced by dinners; like Barnave, by flattery; like -Mirabeau and Danton, by money; like the Girondists, by the insinuating -charm of ancient politeness and select society; like the Dantonists, by -the bait of joviality and unbounded license--he is the incorruptible. - -“Alone, or nearly alone, I do not allow myself to be corrupted; alone, -or nearly alone, I do not compromise the right; which two merits I -possess in the highest degree. A few others may live correctly, but they -oppose or betray principles; a few others profess to have principles, -but they do not live correctly. No one else leads so pure a life or is -so loyal to principles; no one else joins to so fervent a worship of -truth so strict a practice of virtue; I am the unique.” What can be more -agreeable than this mute soliloquy? It is gently heard the first day in -Robespierre’s address to the Third Estate of Arras; it is uttered aloud -the last day in his great speech in the convention; during the interval, -it crops out and shines through all his compositions, harangues, or -reports, in exordiums, parentheses, and perorations, permeating every -sentence like the drone of a bagpipe. In three years a chorus of a -thousand voices, which he formed and led indefatigably, rehearses to him -in unison his own litany, his most sacred creed, the hymn of three -stanzas composed by him in his own honor, and which he daily recites to -himself in a low tone of voice, and often in a loud one: “Robespierre -alone has discovered the ideal citizen! Robespierre alone attains to it -without exaggeration or shortcomings! Robespierre alone is worthy of and -able to lead the revolution!” Cool infatuation carried thus far is -equivalent to a raging fever, and Robespierre almost attains to the -ideas and the ravings of Marat. - -First, in his own eyes, he, like Marat, is a persecuted man, and, like -Marat, he poses himself as a “martyr,” but more skillfully and keeping -within bounds, affecting the resigned and tender air of an innocent -victim, who, offering himself as a sacrifice, ascends to heaven, -bequeathing to mankind the imperishable souvenir of his virtues. “I -excite against me the self-love of everybody; I sharpen against me a -thousand daggers. I am a sacrifice to every species of hatred.... To the -enemies of my country, to whom my existence seems an obstacle to their -heinous plots, I am ready to sacrifice it, if their odious empire is to -endure; ... let their road to the scaffold be the pathway of crime, ours -shall be that of virtue; ... let the hemlock be got ready for me, I -await it on this hallowed spot. I shall at least bequeath to my country -an example of constant affection for it, and to the enemies of humanity -the disgrace of my death.” - -Naturally, as always with Marat, he sees around him only “evil-doers,” -“intriguers,” and “traitors.” Naturally, as with Marat, common sense -with him is perverted, and, like Marat again, he thinks at random. “I am -not obliged to reflect,” said he to Garat, “I always rely on first -impressions.” “For him,” says the same authority, “the best reasons are -suspicions,” and nought makes headway against suspicions, not even the -most positive evidence. - -Such assurance, equal to that of Marat, is terrible and worse in its -effect, for Robespierre’s list of conspirators is longer than that of -Marat. Political and social, in Marat’s mind, the list comprehends only -aristocrats and the rich; theological and moral in Robespierre’s mind, -it comprehends all atheists and dishonest persons--that is to say, -nearly the whole of his party. In this narrow mind, given up to -abstractions and habitually classifying men under two opposite headings, -whoever is not with him on the good side is against him on the bad side, -and, on the bad side, the common understanding between the factious of -every flag and the rogues of every degree is natural. Add all this -vermin to that which Marat seeks to crush out; it is no longer by -hundreds of thousands, but by millions, exclaim Baudot, Jean Bon St. -André, and Guffroy, that the guilty must be counted and heads laid low! -And all these heads, Robespierre, according to his maxims, must strike -off. He is well aware of this; hostile as his intellect may be to -precise ideas, he, when alone in his closet, face to face with himself, -sees clearly, as clearly as Marat. Marat’s chimera, on first spreading -out its wings, bore its frenzied rider swiftly onward to the charnel -house; that of Robespierre, fluttering and hobbling along, reaches the -goal in its turn; in its turn, it demands something to feed on, and the -rhetorician, the professor of principles, begins to calculate the -voracity of the monstrous brute on which he is mounted. Slower than the -other, this one is still more ravenous, for, with similar claws and -teeth, it has a vaster appetite. At the end of three years Robespierre -has overtaken Marat, at the extreme point reached by Marat at the -outset, and the theorist adopts the policy, the aim, the means, the -work, and almost the vocabulary of the maniac; armed dictatorship of the -urban mob, systematic maddening of the subsidized populace, war against -the bourgeoisie, extermination of the rich, proscription of opposition -writers, administrators, and deputies. - -Both monsters demand the same food; only, Robespierre adds “vicious men” -to the ration of his monster, by way of extra and preferable game. -Henceforth, he may in vain abstain from action, take refuge in his -rhetoric, stop his chaste ears, and raise his hypocritical eyes to -heaven, he can not avoid seeing or hearing under his immaculate feet the -streaming gore, and the bones crashing in the open jaws of the -insatiable monster which he has fashioned and on which he prances. -Destructive instincts, long repressed by civilization, thus devoted to -butchery, become aroused. His feline physiognomy, at first “that of a -domestic cat, restless but mild, changes into the savage mien of the -wild-cat, and next to the ferocious mien of the tiger. In the -Constituent Assembly he speaks with a whine, in the convention he froths -at the mouth.” The monotonous drone of a stiff sub-professor changes -into the personal accent of furious passion; he hisses and grinds his -teeth; sometimes, on a change of scene, he affects to shed tears. But -his wildest outbursts are less alarming than his affected sensibility. -The festering grudges, corrosive envies, and bitter schemings which have -accumulated in his breast are astonishing. The gall vessels are full, -and the extravasated gall overflows on the dead. He never tires of -re-executing his guillotined adversaries, the Girondists, Chaumette, -Hébert, and especially Danton, probably because Danton was the active -agent in the revolution of which he was simply the incapable pedagogue; -he vents his posthumous hatred on this still warm corpse in artful -insinuations and obvious misrepresentations. Thus, inwardly corroded by -the venom it distills, his physical machine gets out of order, like that -of Marat, but with other symptoms. When speaking in the tribune “his -hands crisp with a sort of nervous contraction”; sudden tremors agitate -“his shoulders and neck, shaking him convulsively to and fro.” “His -bilious complexion becomes livid,” his eyelids quiver under his -spectacles, and how he looks! “Ah,” said a _Montagnard_, “you would have -voted as we did on the 9th of Thermidor, had you seen his green -eyeballs!” “Physically as well as morally,” he becomes a second Marat, -suffering all the more because his delirium is not steady, and because -his policy, being a moral one, forces him to exterminate on a grander -scale. - -But he is a discreet Marat, of a timid temperament, anxious, keeping his -thoughts to himself, made for a schoolmaster or a pleader, but not for -taking the lead or for governing, always acting hesitatingly, and -ambitious to be rather the Pope, than the dictator of the revolution. He -would prefer to remain a political Grandison; he keeps the mask on to -the very last, not only to the public and to others, but to himself and -in his inmost conscience. The mask, indeed, has adhered to his skin; he -can no longer distinguish one from the other; never did impostor more -carefully conceal intentions and acts under sophisms, and persuade -himself that the mask was his face, and that in telling a lie, he told -the truth. - -When nature and history combine to produce a character they succeed -better than even man’s imagination. Neither Moliere in his “Tartuffe,” -nor Shakespeare in his “Richard III,” dared bring on the stage a -hypocrite believing himself sincere, and a Cain that regarded himself as -an Abel. - - - - -WILLIAM PITT THE YOUNGER. - -BY JOHN RICHARD GREEN. - - [Son of the Earl of Chatham, born 1759, died 1806, and hardly less - distinguished than his father as a statesman and orator. He became - prime minister at the age of twenty-five, and showed a genius as - parliamentary leader which has never been surpassed and rarely - equaled, retaining him in power in spite of his feebleness in the - conduct of war and diplomacy. His great talents found their most - congenial field in the management of home affairs, being the - prototype of Mr. Gladstone in this respect. It is the younger - Pitt’s glory that with no able man in his own party to support him, - he held power so long unshaken by the incessant assaults of such - men as Burke, Fox, Sheridan, and Lord North.] - - -When Parliament came together after the overthrow of the Coalition, the -minister of twenty-five was master of England as no minister had been -before. Even the king yielded to his sway, partly through gratitude for -the triumph he had won for him over the Whigs, partly from a sense of -the madness which was soon to strike him down, but still more from a -gradual discovery that the triumph which he had won over his political -rivals had been won, not to the profit of the crown, but of the nation -at large. The Whigs, it was true, were broken, unpopular, and without a -policy, while the Tories clung to the minister who had “saved the king.” -But it was the support of a new political power that really gave his -strength to the young minister. The sudden rise of English industry was -pushing the manufacturer to the front; and all that the trading classes -loved in Chatham, his nobleness of temper, his consciousness of power, -his patriotism, his sympathy with a wider world than the world within -the Parliament house, they saw in his son. He had little indeed of the -poetic and imaginative side of Chatham’s genius, of his quick perception -of what was just and what was possible, his far-reaching conceptions of -national policy, his outlook into the future of the world. - -Pitt’s flowing and sonorous commonplaces rang hollow beside the broken -phrases which still make his father’s eloquence a living thing to -Englishmen. On the other hand, he possessed some qualities in which -Chatham was utterly wanting. His temper, though naturally ardent and -sensitive, had been schooled in a proud self-command. His simplicity and -good taste freed him from his father’s ostentation and extravagance. -Diffuse and commonplace as his speeches seem, they were adapted as much -by their very qualities of diffuseness and commonplace as by their -lucidity and good sense to the intelligence of the middle classes whom -Pitt felt to be his real audience. In his love of peace, his immense -industry, his dispatch of business, his skill in debate, his knowledge -of finance, he recalled Sir Robert Walpole; but he had virtues which -Walpole never possessed, and he was free from Walpole’s worst defects. -He was careless of personal gain. He was too proud to rule by -corruption. His lofty self-esteem left no room for any jealousy of -subordinates. He was generous in his appreciation of youthful merits; -and the “boys” he gathered round him, such as Canning and Lord -Wellesley, rewarded his generosity by a devotion which death left -untouched. With Walpole’s cynical inaction Pitt had no sympathy -whatever. His policy from the first was one of active reform, and he -faced every one of the problems, financial, constitutional, religious, -from which Walpole had shrunk. Above all, he had none of Walpole’s scorn -of his fellow-men. The noblest feature in his mind was its wide -humanity. - -His love for England was as deep and personal as his father’s love, but -of the sympathy with English passion and English prejudice which had -been at once his father’s weakness and strength he had not a trace. When -Fox taunted him with forgetting Chatham’s jealousy of France and his -faith that she was the natural foe of England, Pitt answered nobly that -“to suppose any nation can be unalterably the enemy of another is weak -and childish.” The temper of the time and the larger sympathy of man -with man, which especially marks the eighteenth century as a -turning-point in the history of the human race, was everywhere bringing -to the front a new order of statesmen, such as Turgot and Joseph II, -whose characteristics were a love of mankind and a belief that as the -happiness of the individual can only be secured by the general happiness -of the community to which he belongs, so the welfare of individual -nations can only be secured by the general welfare of the world. Of -these Pitt was one. But he rose high above the rest in the consummate -knowledge, and the practical force which he brought to the realization -of his aims. - -Pitt’s strength lay in finance; and he came forward at a time when the -growth of English wealth made a knowledge of finance essential to a -great minister. The progress of the nation was wonderful. Population -more than doubled during the eighteenth century, and the advance of -wealth was even greater than that of population. The war had added a -hundred millions to the national debt, but the burden was hardly felt. -The loss of America only increased the commerce with that country; and -industry had begun that great career which was to make Britain the -workshop of the world. Though England already stood in the first rank of -commercial states at the accession of George III, her industrial life at -home was mainly agricultural. The wool-trade had gradually established -itself in Norfolk, the West Riding of Yorkshire, and the counties of the -southwest; while the manufacture of cotton was still almost limited to -Manchester and Bolton, and remained so unimportant that in the middle of -the eighteenth century the export of cotton goods hardly reached the -value of fifty thousand a year. There was the same slow and steady -progress in the linen trade of Belfast and Dundee and the silks of -Spitalfields. The processes of manufacture were too rude to allow any -large increase of production. It was only where a stream gave force to -turn a mill-wheel that the wool-worker could establish his factory; and -cotton was as yet spun by hand in the cottages, the “spinsters” of the -family sitting with their distaffs round the weaver’s handloom. But had -the processes of manufacture been more efficient, they would have been -rendered useless by the want of a cheap and easy means of transport. The -older main roads, which had lasted fairly through the middle ages, had -broken down in later times before the growth of traffic and the increase -of wagons and carriages. - -The new lines of trade lay often along mere country lanes which had -never been more than horse-tracks. Much of the woolen trade, therefore, -had to be carried on by means of long trains of pack-horses; and in the -case of yet heavier goods, such as coal, distribution was almost -impracticable, save along the greater rivers or in districts accessible -from the sea. A new era began when the engineering genius of Brindley -joined Manchester with its port of Liverpool in 1767, by a canal which -crossed the Irwell on a lofty aqueduct; the success of the experiment -soon led to the universal introduction of water-carriage, and Great -Britain was traversed in every direction by three thousand miles of -navigable canals. At the same time a new importance was given to the -coal which lay beneath the soil of England. The stores of iron which had -lain side by side with it in the northern counties had lain there -unworked through the scarcity of wood, which was looked upon as the only -fuel by which it could be smelted. - -In the middle of the eighteenth century a process for smelting iron with -coal turned out to be effective; and the whole aspect of the iron trade -was at once revolutionized. Iron was to become the working material of -the modern world; and it is its production of iron which more than all -else has placed England at the head of industrial Europe. The value of -coal as a means of producing mechanical force was revealed in the -discovery by which Watt in 1765 transformed the steam-engine from a mere -toy into the most wonderful instrument which human industry has ever had -at its command. The invention came at a moment when the existing supply -of manual labor could no longer cope with the demands of the -manufacturers. Three successive inventions in twelve years, that of the -spinning-jenny in 1764 by the weaver Hargreaves, of the spinning-machine -in 1768 by the barber Arkwright, of the “mule” by the weaver Crompton in -1776, were followed by the discovery of the power-loom. But these would -have been comparatively useless had it not been for the revelation of a -new and inexhaustible labor-force in the steam-engine. It was the -combination of such a force with such means of applying it that enabled -Britain during the terrible years of her struggle with France and -Napoleon to all but monopolize the woolen and cotton trades, and raised -her into the greatest manufacturing country that the world had seen. - -To deal wisely with such a growth required a knowledge of the laws of -wealth which would have been impossible at an earlier time. But it had -become possible in the days of Pitt. If books are to be measured by the -effect which they have produced on the fortunes of mankind the “Wealth -of Nations” must rank among the greatest of books. Its author was Adam -Smith, an Oxford scholar and a professor at Glasgow. Labor, he -contended, was the one source of wealth, and it was by freedom of labor, -by suffering the worker to pursue his own interest in his own way, that -the public wealth would best be promoted. Any attempt to force labor -into artificial channels, to shape by laws the course of commerce, to -promote special branches of industry in particular countries, or to fix -the character of the intercourse between one country and another, is not -only a wrong to the worker or the merchant, but actually hurtful to the -wealth of a state. The book was published in 1776, at the opening of the -American war, and studied by Pitt during his career as an undergraduate -at Cambridge. From that time he owned Adam Smith for his master. He had -hardly become minister before he took the principles of the “Wealth of -Nations” as the groundwork of his policy. The ten earlier years of his -rule marked a new point of departure in English statesmanship. Pitt was -the first English minister who really grasped the part which industry -was to play in promoting the welfare of the world. He was not only a -peace minister and a financier, as Walpole had been, but a statesman who -saw that the best security for peace lay in the freedom and widening of -commercial intercourse between nations; that public economy not only -lessened the general burdens but left additional capital in the hands of -industry; and that finance might be turned from a mere means of raising -revenue into a powerful engine of political and social improvement. - - - - -NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. - -BY LOUIS ADOLPHE THIERS. - - [Emperor of France, born in Corsica 1769, died a prisoner on the - island of St. Helena in 1821. Educated at the military schools of - Brienne and Paris, Napoleon became a sous-lieutenant of artillery - at the age of sixteen. He had become a captain when the revolution - reached its height in the Reign of Terror. Though never an actor in - the horrors of Jacobin rule, he was supposed to have been a warm - friend of Robespierre. After the fall of the terrorists Napoleon - took the side of the convention, and at the head of its troops - dispersed the infuriated mob of Montagnards with the famous “whiff - of grapeshot” which blew up the last remains of the party of 1793. - After his marriage with Josephine Beauharnais, the young soldier - was appointed to the command of the army of Italy. In two years - Napoleon, in a series of splendid battles, annihilated four - Austrian armies, liberated Italy, and forced Austria to a - humiliating peace. After the failure of the Egyptian expedition - Napoleon returned to France, and by the _coup d’état_ of December, - 1799, attained supreme power as first consul. The second Italian - campaign of 1800 was no less brilliant than the first, culminating - in the battle of Marengo. In 1802 Napoleon was made life-consul, - “the swelling prologue of the imperial theme,” for nine months - later he assumed the title of emperor, and was crowned by Pope Pius - VII at Notre Dame. The year 1812 was the beginning of the disasters - which finally dethroned him. The terrible Russian campaign, and the - utter defeat of his arms in Spain by Lord Wellesley, afterward Duke - of Wellington, marked a change in the clock of destiny. The great - European coalition of 1813 brought overwhelming forces against him, - resulting in the great battle of Dresden, lasting three - days--October 16th, 17th, and 18th--which broke the French power. - The allies entered Paris, March 31, 1814, and Napoleon abdicated on - April 11th. His exile in Elba lasted less than ten months, and on - his return to France two hundred thousand men rallied to him at his - call. The battle of Waterloo, fought on June 15, 1815, ended in his - overwhelming defeat at the hands of the Duke of Wellington, - assisted by Marshal Blücher. Napoleon’s second abdication was - followed by his surrender to the English, and his exile to St. - Helena for the rest of his life.] - - -Napoleon was endowed by nature with a clear, penetrating, vast, -comprehensive, and peculiarly active mind, nor had he less decision of -character than clearness of intellect. He always seized at once the -decisive argument, in battle the most effective movement. To conceive, -resolve, and perform were with him but one indivisible act, so wonderful -was his rapidity, that not a moment was spent in reflection between -perception and action. Any obstacle presented to such a mind by a -trifling objection, by indolence, weakness, or disaffection, served but -to cause his anger to spring forth and cover you with its foam. Had he -chosen some civil profession where success can only be attained by -persuading men and winning them over, he might have endeavored to subdue -or moderate his fiery temperament, but flung into the career of arms, -and endowed with the sovereign faculty of seeing the surest means of -conquest at a glance, he became at one bound the ruler of Italy, at a -second the master of the French Republic, at a third the sovereign of -Europe. - -What wonder that a nature formed so impetuous by God should become more -so from success; what wonder if he were abrupt, violent, domineering, -and unbending in his resolutions! If apart from the battle-field he -exercised that tact so necessary in civil business, it was in the -council of state, though even there he decided questions with a sagacity -and clearness of judgment that astonished and subdued his hearers, -except on some few occasions when he was misled for a moment by passion -or want of sufficient knowledge of the subject under discussion. Both -nature and circumstances combined to make him the most despotic and -impetuous of men. - -In contemplating his career, it does not appear that this fiery, -despotic nature revealed itself at once or altogether. In his youth he -was lean, taciturn, and even sad--sad from concentrated ambition that -feeds upon itself until it finds an outlet and attains the object of its -desires. As a young man he was sometimes rude, morose, until becoming -the object of universal admiration he became more open, calm, and -communicative--lost the meagerness that made his countenance so -expressive, and, as one may say, unfolded himself. Consul for life, -emperor, conqueror at Marengo and Austerlitz, still exercising some -little restraint on himself, he seemed to have reached the apogee of his -moral existence; and his figure, then moderately stout, was radiant with -regular and manly beauty. But soon, when nations submitted and -sovereigns bowed before him, he was no longer restrained by respect for -man or even for nature. He dared, attempted all things; spoke without -restraint; was gay, familiar, and often intemperate in language. His -moral and physical nature became more developed, nor did his extreme -stoutness diminish his Olympian beauty; his fuller countenance still -preserved the eagle glance; and when descending from his accustomed -height from which he excited admiration, fear, and hatred, he became -merry, familiar, and almost vulgar, he could resume his dignity in a -moment, for he was able to descend without demeaning himself. And when -at length, in advancing life, he is supposed to be less active or less -daring, because of his increasing _embonpoint_, or because Fortune had -ceased to smile on him, he bounds more impetuously than ever on his -charger, and shows that for his ardent mind matter is no burden, -misfortune no restraint. - -Such were the successive developments of this extraordinary nature. It -is not easy to estimate Napoleon’s moral qualities, for it is rather -difficult to discover goodness in a soldier who was continually strewing -the earth with dead, or friendship in a man who never knew an equal, or -probity in a potentate in whose power were the riches of the universe. -Still, though an exception to all ordinary rules, we may occasionally -catch some traits of the moral physiognomy of this extraordinary man. - -In all things promptness was his distinctive characteristic. He would -become angry, but would recover his calmness with wonderful facility, -almost ashamed of his excitement, laughing at it if he could do so -without compromising his dignity, and would again address with -affectionate words or gestures the officer he had overpowered by his -burst of passion. His anger was sometimes affected for the purpose of -intimidating subalterns who neglected their duty. When real, his -displeasure passed like a flash of lightning; when affected, it lasted -as long as it was needed. When he was no longer obliged to command, -restrain, or impel men, he became gentle, simple, and just, just as -every man of great mind is who understands human nature, and appreciates -and pardons its weaknesses because he knows that they are inevitable. At -St. Helena, deprived of all external prestige, his power departed, -without any other ascendant over his companions than that derived from -his intellect and disposition, Napoleon ruled them with absolute sway, -won them by unchanging amiability; and that to such a degree that having -feared him for the greater part of their lives, they ended by loving him -for the remainder. On the battle-field he had acquired an insensibility -that was almost fearful; he could behold unmoved the ground covered with -a hundred thousand lifeless bodies, for none had ever caused so much -human blood to flow as he. - -This insensibility was, so to speak, a consequence of his profession. -Often in the evening he would ride over the battle-field, which in the -morning he had strewed with all the horrors of war, to see that the -wounded were removed, a proceeding that might be the result of policy, -but was not; and he frequently sprang from his horse to assure himself -whether in an apparently lifeless body the vital spark did not still -linger. At Wagram he saw a fine young man, in the uniform of the -cuirassiers, lying on the ground with his face covered with clotted -blood; he sprang at once from his horse, supported the head of the -wounded youth on his knee, restored him by the aid of some spirituous -remedy, and said, smiling: “He will recover, it is one more saved!” -These are no proofs of want of feeling. - -In everything connected with finance he was almost avaricious, disputing -even about a centime, while he would give millions to his friends, -servants, or the poor. Having discovered that a distinguished _savant_ -who had accompanied him to Egypt was in embarrassed circumstances, he -sent him a large sum, blaming him at the same time for not having told -him of his position. In 1813, having expended all his ready money, and -learning that a lady of high birth, who had once been very rich, was in -want of the necessaries of life, he immediately appointed her a pension -of twenty-four thousand francs, as much as fifty thousand at the present -time, and being told that she was eighty-four years of age, “Poor -woman,” he said, “let her be paid four years in advance.” These, we must -repeat, are no indications of want of kindness of disposition. - -Having but little time to devote to private friendships, removed from -them by his superiority to other men, but still, under the influence of -time and habit, he did become attached to some, so strongly attached as -to be indulgent even to weakness to those he loved. This was the case -with regard to his relatives, whose pretensions often provoked his -anger; yet, seeing them annoyed, he relented, and to gratify them, often -did what he knew to be unwise. Although the admiration he had felt for -the Empress Josephine passed away with time, and though she had, by many -thoughtless acts, lowered herself in the esteem he always entertained -for her, he had for her, even after his divorce, the most profound -affection. He wept for Duroc, but in secret, as though it were a -weakness. - -As to his probity, we know not by what standard to estimate such a -quality in a man who from the very commencement of his public career had -immense riches at his command. When he became commander-in-chief of the -army in Italy and was master of all the wealth of the country, he first -supplied his army abundantly, and then sent assistance to the army on -the Rhine, reserving nothing for himself, or at most only a sum -sufficient to purchase a small house, Rue de la Victoire, a purchase for -which one year’s pay would have sufficed; and had he died in Egypt, his -widow would have been left destitute. Was this the result of pride, -disdain of vulgar enjoyments, or honesty? Perhaps there was a little of -all in this forbearance, which was not unexampled among our generals, -though certainly as rare then as it has ever been. He punished -dishonesty with extreme severity, which might be attributed to his love -of order; but, what was still better, and seemed to indicate that he -possessed the quality of honesty himself, was the positive affection he -showed for honest people, carried so far as to take keen pleasure in -their society. - -Still this man, whom God had made so great and so good, was not a -virtuous man, for virtue consists in a fixed idea of duty, to which all -our inclinations, all our desires, moral and physical, must be -subjected, and which could not be the case with one who, of all that -ever lived, put least restraint upon his passions. But if wholly -deficient in what is abstractly understood as virtue, he possessed -certain special virtues, particularly those of a warrior and statesman. -He was temperate, not prone to sensual gratifications, and, it not -exactly chaste he was not a libertine, never, except on occasions of -ceremony, remained more than a few minutes at table; he slept on a hard -bed though his constitution was rather weak than strong, bore, without -even perceiving it, an amount of fatigue that would have exhausted the -most vigorous soldiers; and was capable of prodigious exertion when -mentally occupied with some great undertaking. - -He did more than brave danger, he seemed unconscious of its existence, -and was ever to be found wherever he was needed to see, direct, or -command. Such was his character as a soldier; as a general he was not -inferior. - -Never had the cares of a vast military command been borne with more -coolness, vigor, or presence of mind. If he were occasionally excited -or angry, the officers who knew him best said that all _was going on -well_. When the danger became serious, he was calm, mild, encouraging, -not wishing to add the excitement attendant on his displeasure to that -which naturally arose from the circumstances; he remained perfectly -calm, a power acquired by the habit of restraining his emotions in great -emergencies, and, calculating the extent of the danger, turning it -aside, and thus triumphing over fortune. Formed for great emergencies -and familiarized by habit to every species of peril, he stood by, in -1814, a calm spectator of the suicidal destruction of his own power, a -destruction achieved by his ambition; and still he hoped when all around -despaired, because he perceived resources undivined by anybody else, and -under all vicissitudes, soaring on the wings of genius above the shock -of circumstances, and with the resignation of a self-judged mind he -accepted the deserved punishment of his faults. - -Such, in our opinion, was this man, so strange, so self-contradicting, -so many-sided. If among the principal traits of his character there is -one more prominent than the rest, it is a species of moral intemperance. -A prodigy of genius and passion, flung into the chaos of a revolution, -his nature unfolds and develops itself therein. He masters that wild -confusion, replaces it by his own presence, and displays the energy, -audacity, and fickleness of that which he replaced. Succeeding to men -who stopped at nothing, either in virtue or crime, in heroism or -cruelty, surrounded by men who laid no restraints on their passions, he -laid none on his; they wished to convert the world into a universal -republic, he would have it an equally boundless monarchy; they turned -everything into chaos, he formed an almost tyrannical unity; they -disorganized everything, he re-established order; they defied -sovereigns, he dethroned them; they slaughtered men on the scaffold, he -on the battle-field, where blood was shrouded in glory. He immolated -more human beings than did any Asiatic conqueror, and within the narrow -precincts of Europe, peopled with opposing nations, he conquered a -greater space of territory than Tamerlane or Genghis Khan amid the -deserts of Asia. - -It was reserved for the French revolution, destined to change the aspect -of European society, to produce a man who would fix the attention of the -world as powerfully as Charlemagne, Cæsar, Hannibal, and Alexander. He -possessed every qualification that could strike, attract, and fix the -attention of mankind, whether we consider the greatness of the part he -was destined to perform, the vastness of the political convulsions he -caused, the splendor, extent, and profundity of his genius, or his -majestic gravity of thought. This son of a Corsican gentleman, who -received the gratuitous military education that ancient royalty bestowed -on the sons of the poor nobility, had scarcely left school when in a -sanguinary tumult he obtained the rank of commander-in-chief, then left -the Parisian army for that of Italy, conquered that country in a month, -successively destroyed all the forces of the European coalition, wrested -from them the peace of Campo-Formio, and then becoming too formidable to -stand beside the government of the republic, he went to seek a new -destiny in the East, passed through the English fleet with five hundred -ships, conquered Egypt at a stride, then thought of following -Alexander’s footsteps in the conquest of India. But suddenly recalled to -the West by the renewal of the European war, after having attempted to -imitate Alexander, he imitated and equaled Hannibal in crossing the -Alps, again overpowered the coalition, and compelled it to accept the -peace of Luneville, and at thirty years of age this son of a poor -Corsican nobleman had already run through a most extraordinary career. - -Become pacific for a while, he by his laws laid the basis of modern -society; but again yielding to the impulses of his restless genius, he -once more attacked Europe, vanquished her in three battles--Austerlitz, -Jena, and Friedland--set up and threw down kingdoms, placed the crown -of Charlemagne on his head; and when kings came to offer him their -daughters, chose the descendant of the Cæsars, who presented him with a -son that seemed destined to wear the most brilliant crown in the -universe. He advanced from Cadiz to Moscow, where he was subjected to -the greatest catastrophe on record, rose again, but was again defeated, -and confined in a small island, from which he emerged with a few hundred -faithful soldiers, recovered the crown of France in twenty days, -struggled again against exasperated Europe, sank for the last time at -Waterloo, and having sustained greater wars than those of the Roman -Empire, went--he, the child of a Mediterranean isle--to die on an island -in the ocean, bound like Prometheus by the fear and hatred of kings to a -rock. - -This son of a poor Corsican nobleman has indeed played in the world the -parts of Alexander, Hannibal, Cæsar, and Charlemagne! He possessed as -much genius as the greatest among them; acquired as much fame as the -most celebrated, and unfortunately shed more blood than any of them. In -a moral point of view, he is inferior to the best of these great men but -superior to the worst. His ambition was not as futile as that of -Alexander, nor as depraved as that of Cæsar, but it was not as -respectable as Hannibal’s, who sacrificed himself to save his country -the misfortune of being conquered. His ambition was that usual with -conquerors who seek to rule after having aggrandized their native land. -Still he loved France and cherished her glory as dearly as his own. - -As a ruler he sought what was right, but sought it as a despot, nor did -he pursue it with the consistency or religious perseverance of -Charlemagne. In variety of talents he was inferior to Cæsar, who, being -compelled to win over his fellow-citizens before ruling them, had to -learn how to persuade as well as how to fight, and could speak, write, -and act with a certain simple majesty. Napoleon, on the other hand, -having acquired power by warfare, had no need of oratory, nor possibly, -though endowed with natural eloquence, could he ever have acquired it, -since he never would have taken the trouble of patiently analyzing his -thought in presence of a deliberative assembly. He could write as he -thought, with force and dignity, but he was sometimes a little -declamatory like his mother, the French revolution; he argued with more -force than Cæsar, but could not narrate with his extreme simplicity or -exquisite taste. He was inferior to the Roman dictator in the variety of -his talents, but superior as a general, both by his peculiar military -genius and by the daring profundity and inexhaustible fertility of his -plans, in which he had but one equal or superior (which we can not -decide)--Hannibal; for he was as daring, as prudent, as subtle, as -inventive, as terrible, and as obstinate as the Carthaginian general, -with one advantage of living at a later period. Succeeding to Hannibal, -Cæsar, the Nassaus, Gustavus Adolphus, Condé, Turenne, and Frederick, he -brought military art to its ultimate perfection. God alone can estimate -the respective merits of such men; all we can do is to sketch some -prominent traits of their wonderful characters. - - - - -DUKE OF WELLINGTON. - -BY ARCHIBALD ALISON. - - [Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, third son of the Earl of - Mornington, born 1769, died 1852. Previous to taking command of the - British armies in Spain against the French, Sir Arthur Wellesley - had achieved great distinction and the rank of major-general in - India. Shortly after his appointment to the Spanish command as - lieutenant-general in 1808, he was raised to the peerage as - Viscount Wellington; and his brilliant success against Napoleon’s - most eminent marshals stamped him as one of the first soldiers of - the age. In 1815 Wellington was placed at the head of the English - forces and their allies, to meet Napoleon in that last convulsive - struggle which ended with the battle of Waterloo. Made - field-marshal and duke for his eminent services, Wellington - afterward signalized his capacity for civil administration as - little inferior to his military skill, and as premier displayed the - most wise and liberal statesmanship.] - - -The name of no commander in the long array of British greatness will -occupy so large a space in the annals of the world as that of -Wellington; and yet there are few whose public characters possess, with -so many excellences, so simple and unblemished a complexion. It is to -the purity and elevation of his principles in every public situation -that this enviable distinction is to be ascribed. Intrusted early in -life with high command, and subjected from the first to serious -responsibility, he possessed that singleness of heart and integrity of -purpose which, even more than talent or audacity, are the foundations of -true and moral courage, and the only pure path to public greatness; a -sense of duty, a feeling of honor, a generous patriotism, a -forgetfulness of self, constituted the spring of all his actions. - -He was ambitious, but it was to serve his king and country only; -fearless, because his whole heart was wound up in these noble objects; -disinterested, because the enriching of himself or his family never for -a moment crossed his mind; insensible to private fame when it interfered -with public duty, indifferent to popular obloquy when it arose from -rectitude of conduct. Like the Roman patriot, he wished rather to be -than appear deserving. “Esse quam bonus malebat, ita quo minus gloriam -petebat eo magis adsequebatur.” Greatness was forced upon him, both in -military and political life, rather because he was felt to be worthiest, -than because he desired to be the first; he was the architect of his own -fortune, but he became so almost unconsciously, while solely engrossed -in constructing that of his country. He has left undone many things, as -a soldier, which might have added to his fame, and done many things, as -a statesman, which were fatal to his power; but he omitted the first -because they would have endangered his country, and committed the second -because he felt them to be essential to its salvation. - -It is the honor of England, and of human nature, that such a man should -have risen at such a time to the rule of her armies and her councils; -but he experienced with Themistocles and Scipio Africanus the mutable -tenure of popular applause and the base ingratitude of those whom he had -saved. Having triumphed over the arms of the threatened tyrant, he was -equally immovable in the presence of the insane citizens; and it is hard -to say whether his greatness appeared most when he struck down the -conqueror of Europe on the field of Waterloo, or was himself with -difficulty rescued from death on its anniversary, eighteen years -afterward, in the streets of London. - -A constant recollection of these circumstances, and of the peculiar and -very difficult task which was committed to his charge, is necessary in -forming a correct estimate of the Duke of Wellington’s military -achievements. The brilliancy of his course is well known; an unbroken -series of triumphs from Vimiero to Toulouse; the entire expulsion of the -French from the Peninsula; the planting of the British standard in the -heart of France; the successive defeat of those veteran marshals who had -so long conquered in every country of Europe; the overthrow of Waterloo; -the hurling of Napoleon from his throne; and the termination, in one -day, of the military empire founded on twenty years of conquest. But -these results, great and imperishable as they are, convey no adequate -idea, either of the difficulties with which Wellington had to contend, -or of the merit due to his transcendent exertions. With an army seldom -superior in number to a single corps of the French marshals; with troops -dispirited by recent disasters, and wholly unaided by practical -experience; without any compulsory law to recruit his ranks, or any -strong national passion for war to supply its wants, he was called on to -combat successively vast armies, composed, in great part, of veteran -soldiers, perpetually filled by the terrible powers of the conscription, -headed by the chiefs who, risen from the ranks, and practically -acquainted with the duties of war in all its grades, had fought their -way from the grenadier’s musket to the marshal’s baton, and were -followed by men who, trained in the same school, were animated by the -same ambition. - -Still more, he was the general of a nation in which the chivalrous and -mercantile qualities are strongly blended together; which, justly proud -of its historic glory, is unreasonably jealous of its military -expenditure; which, covetous beyond measure of warlike renown, is -ruinously impatient of pacific preparation; which starves its -establishment when danger is over, and yet frets at defeat when its -terrors are present; which dreams, in war, of Cressy and Agincourt, and -ruminates, in peace, on economic reduction. - -He combated at the head of an alliance formed of heterogeneous states, -composed of discordant materials, in which ancient animosities and -religious divisions were imperfectly suppressed by recent fervor or -present danger; in which corruption often paralyzed the arm of -patriotism, and jealousy withheld the resources of power. He acted under -the direction of a ministry which, albeit zealous and active, was alike -inexperienced in hostility and unskilled in combinations; in presence of -an opposition which, powerful in eloquence, supported by faction, was -prejudiced against the war, and indefatigable to arrest it; for the -interests of a people, who, although ardent in the cause and -enthusiastic in its support, were impatient of disaster and prone to -depression, and whose military resources, how great soever, were -dissipated in the protection of a colonial empire which encircled the -earth. - -Nothing but the most consummate prudence, as well as ability in conduct, -could with such means have achieved victory over such an enemy, and the -character of Wellington was singularly fitted for the task. Capable, -when the occasion required or opportunity was afforded, of the most -daring enterprises, he was yet cautious and wary in his general conduct; -prodigal of his own labor, regardless of his own person, he was -avaricious only of the blood of his soldiers. Endowed by Nature with an -indomitable soul, a constitution of iron, he possessed that tenacity of -purpose and indefatigable activity which is ever necessary to great -achievements; prudent in council, sagacious in design, he was yet prompt -and decided in action. No general ever revolved the probable dangers of -an enterprise more anxiously before undertaking it, none possessed in a -higher degree the eagle eye, the arm of steel, necessary to carry it -into execution. - -By the steady application of these rare qualities he was enabled to -raise the British military force from an unworthy state of depression to -an unparalleled pitch of glory; to educate, in presence of the enemy, -not only his soldiers in the field, but his rulers in the cabinet; to -silence, by avoiding disaster, the clamor of his enemies; to strengthen, -by progressive success, the ascendency of his friends; to augment, by -the exhibition of its results, the energy of the government; to rouse, -by deeds of glory, the enthusiasm of the people. - -Skillfully seizing the opportunity of victory, he studiously avoided the -chances of defeat; aware that a single disaster would at once endanger -his prospects, discourage his countrymen, and strengthen his opponents, -he was content to forego many opportunities of earning fame, and stifle -many desires to grasp at glory; magnanimously checking the aspirations -of genius, he trusted for ultimate success rather to perseverance in a -wise, than audacity in a daring course. He thus succeeded during six -successive campaigns, with a comparatively inconsiderable army, in -maintaining his ground against the vast and veteran forces of Napoleon, -in defeating successively all his marshals, baffling successively all -his enterprises, and finally rousing such an enthusiastic spirit in the -British Empire as enabled its Government to put forth its immense -resources on a scale worthy of its present greatness and ancient renown, -and terminate a contest of twenty years by planting the English standard -on the walls of Paris. - - - THE END. - - * * * * * - -_D. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS._ - - - =HISTORY OF ROME.= By Dr. THOMAS ARNOLD. Large 8vo. Cloth, $3.00. - -Dr. Arnold’s colossal reputation is founded on this great work. - - - =HISTORY OF THE ROMANS.= Complete in 8 vols., small 8vo (the eighth - volume containing the “Conversion of the Northern Nations” and the - “Conversion of the Roman Empire”). By CHARLES MERIVALE, B. D. Half - morocco, $35.00. - -Mr. Merivale’s undertaking is nothing less than to bridge over no small -portion of the interval between the interrupted work of Arnold and the -commencement of Gibbon; and he has proved himself no unworthy successor -to the two most gifted historians of Rome known to English literature. - - - =HISTORY OF THE ROMANS UNDER THE EMPIRE.= By CHARLES MERIVALE, B. D., - Rector of Lawford; Chaplain to the House of Commons. 7 vols. Small - 8vo. Cloth, $14.00. - - THE SAME. New edition. 7 vols. in four. 12mo. Cloth, $7.00. - -“A work that has justly taken high rank in the historical literature of -modern England. Some of his chapters must long be regarded as admirable -specimens of elegant literary workmanship. The author begins his history -with the gradual transfer of the old Republic to the imperialism of the -Cæsars, and ends it with the age of the Antonines. It therefore exactly -fills the gap between Mommsen and Gibbon.”--_Dr. C. K. 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The work is fully entitled to be called the ablest -and most satisfactory book on the subject written in our language. The -author’s methods are dignified and judicious, and he has availed himself -of all the recent light thrown by philological research on the annals of -the East.”--_Dr. C. K. Adams’s Manual of Historical Literature._ - - - =HISTORY OF HERODOTUS.= An English Version, edited, with Copious - Notes and Appendices, by GEORGE RAWLINSON, M. A. With Maps and - Illustrations. In four volumes, 8vo. Vellum cloth, $8.00; half - calf, $18.00. - -“This must be considered as by far the most valuable version of the -works of ‘The Father of History.’ The history of Herodotus was probably -not written until near the end of his life; it is certain that he had -been collecting materials for it during many years. 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I have not hesitated to follow the Father of History -in portraying the heroism and the sacrifices of the Hellenes in their -first war for independence, nor, in delineating the character of that -epoch, to form my judgment largely from the records he has left -us.”--_Extract from Preface._ - - - =GREECE IN THE TIMES OF HOMER.= An Account of the Life, Customs, and - Habits of the Greeks during the Homeric Period. By T. T. TIMAYENIS. - 16mo. Cloth, $1.50. - -“In the preparation of the present volume I have conscientiously -examined nearly every book--Greek, German, French, or English--written -on Homer. But my great teacher and guide has been Homer himself.”--_From -the Preface._ - - -New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. - -_D. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS._ - - - =A HISTORY OF ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.= By WILLIAM E. H. - LECKY, author of “History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit - of Rationalism in Europe,” etc. Vols. I to VI. Large 12mo. 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Complete in 6 vols., 8vo, printed from new type, and - bound in cloth, uncut, with gilt top, $2.50; sheep, $3.50; half - calf, $4.50 per volume. Vol. VI contains the History of the - Formation of the Constitution of the United States, and a Portrait - of Mr. Bancroft. - -In this edition of his great work the author has made extensive changes -in the text, condensing in places, enlarging in others, and carefully -revising. It is practically a new work embodying the results of the -latest researches, and enjoying the advantage of the author’s long and -mature experience. - - “On comparing this work with the corresponding volume of the - ‘Centenary’ edition of 1876, one is surprised to see how extensive - changes the author has found desirable, even after so short an - interval. The first thing that strikes one is the increased number - of chapters, resulting from subdivision. The first volume contains - two volumes of the original, and is divided into thirty-eight - chapters instead of eighteen. This is in itself an improvement. But - the new arrangement is not the result merely of subdivision; the - matter is rearranged in such a manner as vastly to increase the - lucidity and continuousness of treatment. In the present edition - Mr. Bancroft returns to the principle of division into periods, - abandoned in the ‘Centenary’ edition. His division is, however, a - new one. As the permanent shape taken by a great historical work, - this new arrangement is certainly an improvement.”--_The Nation - (New York)._ - - “The work as a whole is in better shape, and is of course more - authoritative than ever before. This last revision will be without - doubt, both from its desirable form and accurate text, the standard - one.”--_Boston Traveller._ - - “It has not been granted to many historians to devote half a - century to the history of a single people, and to live long enough, - and, let us add, to be willing and wise enough, to revise and - rewrite in an honored old age the work of a whole lifetime.”--_New - York Mail and Express._ - - “The extent and thoroughness of this revision would hardly be - guessed without comparing the editions side by side. The - condensation of the text amounts to something over one third of the - previous edition. There has also been very considerable recasting - of the text. On the whole, our examination of the first volume - leads us to believe that the thought of the historian loses nothing - by the abbreviation of the text. A closer and later approximation - to the best results of scholarship and criticism is reached. The - public gains by its more compact brevity and in amount of matter, - and in economy of time and money.”--_The Independent (New York)._ - - “There is nothing to be said at this day of the value of - ‘Bancroft.’ Its authority is no longer in dispute, and as a piece - of vivid and realistic historical writing it stands among the best - works of its class. It may be taken for granted that this new - edition will greatly extend its usefulness.”--_Philadelphia North - American._ - - -New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. - -_D. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS._ - - - =HISTORY OF THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES=, from the Revolution to - the Civil War. By JOHN BACH MCMASTER. To be completed in five - volumes. Vols. 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At every stage of the splendid progress which separates -the America of Washington and Adams from the America in which we live, -it has been the author’s purpose to describe the dress, the occupations, -the amusements, the literary canons of the times; to note the changes of -manners and morals; to trace the growth of that humane spirit which -abolished punishment for debt, and reformed the discipline of prisons -and of jails; to recount the manifold improvements which, in a thousand -ways, have multiplied the conveniences of life and ministered to the -happiness of our race; to describe the rise and progress of that long -series of mechanical inventions and discoveries which is now the -admiration of the world, and our just pride and boast; to tell how, -under the benign influence of liberty and peace, there sprang up, in the -course of a single century, a prosperity unparalleled in the annals of -human affairs._ - - “The pledge given by Mr. McMaster, that ‘the history of the people - shall be the chief theme,’ is punctiliously and satisfactorily - fulfilled. He carries out his promise in a complete, vivid, and - delightful way. We should add that the literary execution of the - work is worthy of the indefatigable industry and unceasing - vigilance with which the stores of historical material have been - accumulated, weighed, and sifted. The cardinal qualities of style, - lucidity, animation, and energy, are everywhere present. Seldom, - indeed, has a book, in which matter of substantial value has been - so happily united to attractiveness of form, been offered by an - American author to his fellow-citizens.”--_New York Sun._ - - “To recount the marvelous progress of the American people, to - describe their life, their literature, their occupations, their - amusements, is Mr. McMaster’s object. His theme is an important - one, and we congratulate him on his success. It has rarely been our - province to notice a book with so many excellences and so few - defects.”--_New York Herald._ - - “Mr. McMaster at once shows his grasp of the various themes and his - special capacity as a historian of the people. His aim is high, but - he hits the mark.”--_New York Journal of Commerce._ - - “I have had to read a good deal of history in my day, but I find so - much freshness in the way Professor McMaster has treated his - subject that it is quite like a new story.”--_Philadelphia Press._ - - “Mr. McMaster’s success as a writer seems to us distinct and - decisive. In the first place he has written a remarkably readable - history. His style is clear and vigorous, if not always condensed. - He has the faculty of felicitous comparison and contrast in a - marked degree. Mr. McMaster has produced one of the most spirited - of histories, a book which will be widely read, and the - entertaining quality of which is conspicuous beyond that of any - work of its kind.”--_Boston Gazette._ - - - New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. - - * * * * * - - THE - - HISTORICAL REFERENCE-BOOK, - - COMPRISING: - -_A Chronological Table of Universal History, a Chronological Dictionary - of Universal History, a Biographical Dictionary_. - - WITH GEOGRAPHICAL NOTES. - - FOR THE USE OF STUDENTS, TEACHERS, AND READERS. - - _By LOUIS HEILPRIN._ - - New edition. Crown 8vo. Half leather, $3.00. - - -“A second revised edition of Mr. Louis Heilprin’s ‘Historical -Reference-Book’ has just appeared, marking the well-earned success of -this admirable work--a dictionary of dates, a dictionary of events (with -a special gazetteer for the places mentioned), and a concise -biographical dictionary, all in one, and all in the highest degree -trustworthy. Mr. Heilprin’s revision is as thorough as his original -work. Any one can test it by running over the list of persons deceased -since this manual first appeared. Corrections, too, have been made, as -we can testify in one instance at least.”--_New York Evening Post._ - -“One of the most complete, compact, and valuable works of reference yet -produced.”--_Troy Daily Times._ - -“Unequaled in its field.”--_Boston Courier._ - -“A small library in itself.”--_Chicago Dial._ - -“An invaluable book of reference, useful alike to the student and the -general reader. The arrangement could scarcely be better or more -convenient.”--_New York Herald._ - -“The conspectus of the world’s history presented in the first part of -the book is as full as the wisest terseness could put within the -space.”--_Philadelphia American._ - -“We miss hardly anything that we should consider desirable, and we have -not been able to detect a single mistake or misprint.”--_New York -Nation._ - -“So far as we have tested the accuracy of the present work we have found -it without flaw.”--_Christian Union._ - -“The conspicuous merits of the work are condensation and accuracy. These -points alone should suffice to give the ‘Historical Reference-Book’ a -place in every public and private library.”--_Boston Beacon._ - -“The method of the tabulation is admirable for ready reference.”--_New -York Home Journal._ - -“This cyclopædia of condensed knowledge is a work that will speedily -become a necessity to the general reader, as well as to the -student.”--_Detroit Free Press._ - -“For clearness, correctness, and the readiness with which the reader can -find the information of which he is in search, the volume is far in -advance of any work of its kind with which we are acquainted.”--_Boston -Saturday Evening Gazette._ - -“The latest dates have been given. _The geographical notes which -accompany the historical incidents are a novel addition, and exceedingly -helpful._ The size also commends it, making it convenient for constant -reference, while the three divisions and careful elimination of minor -and uninteresting incidents make it much easier to find dates and events -about which accuracy is necessary. Sir William Hamilton avers that too -retentive a memory tends to hinder the development of the judgment by -presenting too much for decision. A work like this is thus better than -memory. It is a ‘mental larder’ which needs no care, and whose contents -are ever available.”--_New York University Quarterly._ - - -New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] This and the succeeding selection from the works of Prescott are -included by kind permission of Messrs. Lippincott & Co. - -[2] This and other selections from the works of Motley are included by -kind permission of Messrs. Harper & Brothers. - -[3] Miltiades claimed descent from Æacus, the fabled son of Jupiter, -father of Peleus and Telamon, and grandfather of Achilles and Ajax the -Greater, the chiefs of the Greek heroes before Troy.--G. T. F. - -[4] Peisistratos was the tyrant of Athens, the overthrow of whose -family, about 510 B.C., laid the foundation of the Athenian -democracy.--G. T. F. - -[5] The leadership in a league or confederation, as to-day it may be -said Prussia possesses the “hegemony” of Germany.--G. T. F. - -[6] Jugurtha was a Numidian prince, who at one time served in the Roman -armies. He afterward usurped the Numidian kingdom in Africa, and, after -a tedious war, was subjugated by the Romans, brought to Rome, and -starved in his dungeon.--G. T. F. - -[7] Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus (Minor), the final destroyer of -Carthage.--G. T. F. - -[8] A Roman magistrate, inferior to consul, appointed to rule a -province.--G. T. F. - -[9] The war against Jugurtha. - -[10] This kingdom was situated in Asia Minor, on the southern and -eastern shores of the Euxine (Black) Sea, between Bithynia and Armenia. -With the first-named region it constituted the extreme north-western -portion of what is now Asiatic Turkey.--G. T. F. - -[11] The office charged with financial administration. A military prætor -was at the head of the pay and commissary department.--G. T. F. - -[12] Publius Cornelius Cinna, consul from 86 B.C. to 83.--G. T. F. - -[13] Gallio was the proconsul of Achaia, and the elder brother of the -philosopher Seneca. The Apostle Paul was brought before his -judgment-seat by the Jews, and he thus answered: “If it were a matter of -wrong or wicked lewdness, O ye Jews, reason would that I should bear -with you. But if it be a question of words and names, and of your law, -look ye to it; for I will be no judge of such matters.” Acts 18: 14, 15. -The name has become a synonym for the attitude of philosophical -indifference. (G.F.F.) - -[14] The legal fiction of the republic and of its governmental machinery -was carefully perpetuated by Augustus and his successors in the empire -until the destruction of the Western Empire. Public acts were in the -name of the “senate and people of Rome.” The same pious fraud continued -in the Empire of the East till the reign of Justinian.--G. T. F. - -[15] This historian was one of the most bitter and bigoted of the -writers under the new Christian epoch; and his partisanship was pursued -with an acrimony unworthy of the great cause in which he was -retained.--G. T. F. - -[16] The Emperor Julian was succeeded by Jovian, one of his generals, -who was at once proclaimed by the troops. Before, however, he could -march to Constantinople he died from a fit of indigestion, or of poison. -Valentinian, a general of Pannonian ancestry distinguished for his -military skill and courage, was then proclaimed.--G. T. F. - -[17] Theodosius, though justly provoked by the contumacy of the people -of Antioch in casting down and destroying his statues, consulted pride -rather than justice in the severe measures which he at first proposed, -which would have depopulated Antioch, confiscated its wealth, and -destroyed its rank as a capital. The punishment of Thessalonica, on the -other hand, though cruel and excessive, was prompted by a cause more -adequate. A favorite general, Botheric, was brutally assassinated by the -turbulent populace in a circus riot. The wrath of the outraged emperor -was only satiated by a promiscuous massacre of from seven to fifteen -thousand people.--G. T. F. - -[18] The characters mentioned by Sir William Temple, the author alluded -to, are Belisarius, Ætius, John Hunniades, Gonsalvo of Cordova, -Scanderbeg, Alexander Duke of Parma, and the Prince of Orange. - -[19] Gibbon, while recognizing the correct orthography of the name -Mohammed, prefers to use the then popular substitute of “Mahomet,” as -that by which the Arabian prophet was almost universally known.--G. T. -F. - -[20] The sister of Svein had fled to Olaf’s court for protection against -a detested marriage, whereon Olaf had become enamored of and married the -fair fugitive. As Queen Sigrid had formerly been jilted by Olaf his -marriage had been a sore blow to her.--G. T. F. - -[21] Derived from an old Italian word meaning astuteness or -shrewdness.--G. T. F. - -[22] Froissart’s “Chronicles.” - -[23] The reader scarcely needs to be informed that, in the time of -Gibbon, the British East India Company was the practical maister of -Hindostan. - -[24] Philip II, king of Spain.--G. T. F. - -[25] A noted Protestant general, to whom Wallenstein had been opposed in -more than one campaign. - -[26] Ferdinand of Austria, the head of the Catholic League of Germany -and Spain, by whom the Thirty Years’ War was inaugurated.--G. T. F. - -[27] The time of life selected by Macaulay for this picture was just -prior to William’s accession to the English throne.--G. T. F. - -[28] Father of Charles James Fox, whose picture is given by Lecky in -another sketch.--G. T. 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Ferris. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -.big {font-size: 130%;} - -body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} - -.blockquot {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%; -font-size:93%;} - -.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.caption {font-weight:normal;} -.caption p{font-size:75%;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.cappl {text-align:center;text-indent:0%; -text-decoration:underline;} - -.cb {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold;} - -.fint {text-align:center;text-indent:0%; -margin-top:2em;} - -.figcenter {margin:3% auto 3% auto;clear:both; -text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.footnotes {border:dotted 3px gray;margin-top:5%;clear:both;} - -.footnote {width:95%;margin:auto 3% 1% auto;font-size:0.9em;position:relative;} - -.label {position:relative;left:-.5em;top:0;text-align:left;font-size:.8em;} - -.fnanchor {vertical-align:30%;font-size:.8em;} - - h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both; -font-weight:normal;} - - h2 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:center;clear:both; - font-size:130%;font-weight:normal;} - - hr {width:90%;margin:2em auto 2em auto;clear:both;color:black;} - - hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; -padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} - - img {border:none;} - -.nind {text-indent:0%;} - -.nonvis {display:inline;} -.x-bookmaker .nonvis {display: none;} - @media print, handheld - {.nonvis - {display: none;} - } - - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} - -.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; -left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; -background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} -.x-bookmaker .pagenum {display: none;} - -.pdd {padding-left:1em;text-indent:-1em;} - -.pdd2 {padding-bottom:.5em;text-align:right;} - -.pdd3 {padding-bottom:.25em;padding-left:2em;} - -.rt {text-align:right;} - -small {font-size: 70%;} - -.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:120%;} - -table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;} - -div.poetry {text-align:center;} -div.poem {font-size:90%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; -display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: .45em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - -</style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Great leaders, by George Titus Ferris</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Great leaders</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: George Titus Ferris</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November 22, 2021 [eBook #66792]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Turgut Dincer, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREAT LEADERS ***</div> -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="500" alt="[Image of the book's cover is unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<table cellpadding="0" -style="border: 2px black solid;margin:auto auto;max-width:50%; -padding:1%;"> -<tr><td> - -<p class="c"><a href="#CONTENTS">Contents.</a></p> -<p class="c">Some typographical errors have been corrected;</p> -<p class="c"><a href="#LIST_OF_ENGRAVED_PORTRAITS">List of Engraved Portraits.</a><br /> <span class="nonvis">(In certain versions of this etext [in certain browsers] -clicking on the image will bring up a larger version.)</span></p> - -<p class="c">(etext transcriber's note)</p></td></tr> -</table> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_001" style="width: 418px;"> -<a href="images/frontispiece.jpg"> -<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="418" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>PERICLES.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_i" id="page_i">{i}</a></span></p> - -<h1>GREAT LEADERS</h1> - -<p class="c">HISTORIC PORTRAITS<br /><br /><br /> -FROM THE GREAT HISTORIANS</p> - -<p class="c"><small>SELECTED, WITH NOTES AND BRIEF BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES</small></p> - -<p class="c"><span class="smcap">By</span> G. T. FERRIS<br /><br /><br /> -NEW YORK<br /> -D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> -1889 -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ii" id="page_ii">{ii}</a></span><br /><br /><br /> -<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1889,<br /> -By</span> D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii">{iii}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Every</span> one perusing the pages of the historians must have been impressed -with the graphic and singularly penetrative character of many of the -sketches of the distinguished persons whose doings form the staple of -history. These pen-portraits often stand out from the narrative with -luminous and vivid effect, the writers seeming to have concentrated upon -them all their powers of penetration and all their skill in graphic -delineation. Few things in literature are marked by analysis so close, -discernment so keen, or by effects so brilliant and dramatic. In some of -the later historians this feature is specially noticeable, but it was -Hume’s admirable portrayal of the character of Alfred the Great that -suggested the compilation of the present volume.</p> - -<p>A selection such as this of the more striking passages in the great -historians will serve, it is believed, a double purpose—first as a -suitable introduction to these distinguished writers for those not -acquainted with them, and next as a means of stimulating a taste for the -study of history itself. It must be remembered that it is largely -through their sympathies for persons that readers generally find -pleasure in history. The sometimes noble and sometimes startling -personality of great leaders exerts a fas<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iv" id="page_iv">{iv}</a></span>cinating effect upon all -susceptible minds, and whatever brings this personality vividly before -us greatly strengthens our interest in the records of the past. For -these reasons this compilation will be found well adapted for the -reading class in high schools and seminaries.</p> - -<p>It is desirable to explain that in some instances the selections do not -appear here exactly in the form of the original. Passages from different -pages are sometimes brought together, so as to give completeness to the -portrait, but in no other way has any liberty been taken with the text -of the authors.</p> - -<p>In making the selections, the primary object was to secure, in each -instance, the most vivid and truthful portrait obtainable, but it was -also thought desirable to render the volume as representative of -historical literature as possible, and hence to include a wide range of -writers. The work will be found to be tolerably representative in this -particular, but some well-known historians do not appear, for the reason -that their methods did not yield suitable material.</p> - -<p>The selections terminate with the period of Waterloo, because, while -great leaders have flourished since those days, the historical -perspective is not sufficient to permit that judicial estimate so -necessary for a truly valuable portrait.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_v" id="page_v">{v}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> - -<table cellpadding="0"> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THEMISTOCLES_AND_ARISTIDES">THEMISTOCLES AND ARISTIDES.</a> By <span class="smcap">George Grote</span> </td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of Greece.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#PERICLES">PERICLES.</a> By <span class="smcap">Ernst Curtius</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_6">6</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of Greece.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#EPAMINONDAS">EPAMINONDAS.</a> By <span class="smcap">Ernst Curtius</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_10">10</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of Greece.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ALEXANDER_THE_GREAT">ALEXANDER THE GREAT.</a> By <span class="smcap">George Grote</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_14">14</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of Greece.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HANNIBAL">HANNIBAL.</a> By <span class="smcap">Theodor Mommsen</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of Rome.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_GRACCHI">THE GRACCHI.</a> By <span class="smcap">Plutarch</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Plutarch’s Lives.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CAIUS_MARIUS">CAIUS MARIUS.</a> By <span class="smcap">James Anthony Froude</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_27">27</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Julius Cæsar—A Sketch.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MITHRIDATES_KING_OF_PONTUS">MITHRIDATES, KING OF PONTUS.</a> By <span class="smcap">Theodor Mommsen</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of Rome.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LUCIUS_SYLLA">LUCIUS SYLLA.</a> By <span class="smcap">James Anthony Froude</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_37">37</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Julius Cæsar—A Sketch.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#POMPEY">POMPEY.</a> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Kerchever Arnold</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_41">41</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of Rome.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SERTORIUS">SERTORIUS.</a> By <span class="smcap">Plutarch</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_44">44</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Plutarch’s Lives.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JULIUS_CAESAR">JULIUS CÆSAR.</a> By <span class="smcap">James Anthony Froude</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Julius Cæsar—A Sketch.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TRAJAN">TRAJAN.</a> By <span class="smcap">Charles Merivale</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_53">53</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vi" id="page_vi">{vi}</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Romans under the Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_ANTONINES">THE ANTONINES.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_56">56</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ZENOBIA_QUEEN_OF_PALMYRA">ZENOBIA, QUEEN OF PALMYRA.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CONSTANTINE_THE_FIRST_CHRISTIAN_EMPEROR">CONSTANTINE, THE FIRST CHRISTIAN EMPEROR.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JULIAN_THE_APOSTATE">JULIAN THE APOSTATE.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THEODOSIUS_THE_GREAT">THEODOSIUS THE GREAT.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_77">77</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ATTILA_THE_SCOURGE_OF_GOD">ATTILA, THE SCOURGE OF GOD.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_83">83</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BELISARIUS">BELISARIUS.</a> By <span class="smcap">Lord Mahon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_88">88</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Life of Belisarius.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MOHAMMED_THE_FOUNDER_OF_ISLAM">MOHAMMED, THE FOUNDER OF ISLAM.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHARLEMAGNE">CHARLEMAGNE.</a> By Sir <span class="smcap">James Stephen</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_100">100</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Lectures on the History of France.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ALFRED_THE_GREAT_OF_ENGLAND">ALFRED THE GREAT, OF ENGLAND.</a> By <span class="smcap">David Hume</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_107">107</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#OLAF_TRYGGVESON_KING_OF_NORWAY">OLAF TRYGGVESON, KING OF NORWAY.</a> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Carlyle</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_111">111</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Early Kings of Norway.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CANUTE">CNUT OR CANUTE OF ENGLAND, ALSO KING OF DENMARK.</a><span class="smcap">By John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_116">116</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WILLIAM_THE_CONQUEROR">WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_120">120</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ROBERT_GUISCARD">ROBERT GUISCARD.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_126">126</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THOMAS_A_BECKET_ARCHBISHOP_OF_CANTERBURY">THOMAS À BECKET, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.</a> By -<span class="smcap">David Hume</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_130">130</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SALADIN">SALADIN.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_135">135</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vii" id="page_vii">{vii}</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HENRY_II_KING_OF_ENGLAND">HENRY II, KING OF ENGLAND.</a> By <span class="smcap">David Hume</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_138">138</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GENGHIS_OR_ZINGIS_KHAN">GENGHIS OR ZINGIS KHAN.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_142">142</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SIMON_DE_MONTFORT_EARL_OF_LEICESTER">SIMON DE MONTFORT, EARL OF LEICESTER.</a> -By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_148">148</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#EDWARD_I_KING_OF_ENGLAND">EDWARD I, KING OF ENGLAND.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_153">153</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ROBERT_BRUCE">ROBERT BRUCE.</a> By Sir <span class="smcap">Archibald Alison</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_157">157</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Essays.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#EDWARD_III_KING_OF_ENGLAND">EDWARD III, KING OF ENGLAND.</a> By <span class="smcap">David Hume</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_163">163</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#RIENZI">RIENZI.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_167">167</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TIMOUR_OR_TAMERLANE">TIMOUR OR TAMERLANE.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_173">173</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JEANNE_DARC">JEANNE D’ARC.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_180">180</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MAHOMET_OR_MOHAMMED_II">MAHOMET OR MOHAMMED II.</a> By <span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_186">186</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LORENZO_DE_MEDICI">LORENZO DE’ MEDICI.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Addington Symonds</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_190">190</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Italian Renaissance.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GIROLAMO_SAVONAROLA">GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Addington Symonds</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_195">195</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Italian Renaissance.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CAESAR_BORGIA">CÆSAR BORGIA.</a> By <span class="smcap">Charles Yriarte</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_201">201</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Cæsar Borgia.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CARDINAL_WOLSEY">CARDINAL WOLSEY.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_208">208</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FRANCISCO_PIZARRO">FRANCISCO PIZARRO.</a><a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_211">211</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Conquest of Peru.”</i>)</td></tr> - - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HERNANDO_CORTES">HERNANDO CORTÉS.</a> By <span class="smcap">William Hickling Prescott</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_216">216</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_viii" id="page_viii">{viii}</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Conquest of Mexico.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MARTIN_LUTHER">MARTIN LUTHER.</a> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Carlyle</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_222">222</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Life of Martin Luther.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LOYOLA"> -IGNATIUS DE LOYOLA (SAINT), FOUNDER -OF THE ORDER OF JESUS.</a> By Sir <span class="smcap">James Stephen</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_230">230</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Stephen’s Essays.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THOMAS_CROMWELL_EARL_OF_ESSEX">THOMAS CROMWELL, EARL OF ESSEX.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_235">235</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHARLES_V_EMPEROR_OF_GERMANY">CHARLES V, EMPEROR OF GERMANY.</a><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> By <span class="smcap">John Lothrop Motley</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_240">240</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Rise of the Dutch Republic.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WILLIAM_OF_NASSAU_PRINCE_OF_ORANGE">WILLIAM OF NASSAU, PRINCE OF ORANGE.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Lothrop Motley</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_248">248</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Rise of the Dutch Republic.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JOHN_KNOX">JOHN KNOX.</a> By <span class="smcap">James Anthony Froude</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_255">255</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DUKE_OF_ALVA">DUKE OF ALVA.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Lothrop Motley</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_259">259</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Rise of the Dutch Republic.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#QUEEN_ELIZABETH">QUEEN ELIZABETH.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_265">265</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MARY_STUART_QUEEN_OF_SCOTS">MARY STUART, QUEEN OF SCOTS.</a> By <span class="smcap">David Hume</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_275">275</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JOHN_PYM">JOHN PYM.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_280">280</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HENRY_IV_KING_OF_FRANCE">HENRY IV, KING OF FRANCE.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Lothrop Motley</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_284">284</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the United Netherlands.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WALLENSTEIN_DUKE_OF_FRIEDLAND">WALLENSTEIN, DUKE OF FRIEDLAND.</a> -By <span class="smcap">Friedrich von Schiller</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_291">291</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CARDINAL_RICHELIEU">CARDINAL RICHELIEU.</a> By Sir <span class="smcap">James Stephen</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_299">299</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Lectures on the History of France.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GUSTAVUS_ADOLPHUS_KING_OF_SWEDEN">GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, KING OF SWEDEN.</a> By <span class="smcap">Friedrich von -Schiller</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_303">303</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Thirty Years’ War.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#EARL_OF_STRAFFORD">EARL OF STRAFFORD.</a> By <span class="smcap">David Hume</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_310">310</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#OLIVER_CROMWELL">OLIVER CROMWELL.</a> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Babington Macaulay</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_315">315</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LORD_HALIFAX">LORD HALIFAX.</a> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Babington Macaulay</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_322">322</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LOUIS_XIV_OF_FRANCE">LOUIS XIV OF FRANCE.</a> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Babington Macaulay</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_327">327</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From “Essays.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WILLIAM_III_OF_ENGLAND">WILLIAM III OF ENGLAND.</a> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Babington Macaulay</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_329">329</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#PETER_THE_GREAT_CZAR_OF_RUSSIA">PETER THE GREAT, CZAR OF RUSSIA.</a> -By <span class="smcap">Thomas Babington Macaulay</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_339">339</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DUKE_OF_MARLBOROUGH">DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH.</a> By <span class="smcap">William E. H. Lecky</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_344">344</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SIR_ROBERT_WALPOLE">SIR ROBERT WALPOLE.</a> By <span class="smcap">William E. H. Lecky</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_351">351</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FREDERICK_THE_GREAT">FREDERICK THE GREAT.</a> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Carlyle</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_357">357</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Life of Frederick the Great.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WILLIAM_PITT_EARL_OF_CHATHAM">WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_364">364</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#EDMUND_BURKE">EDMUND BURKE.</a> By <span class="smcap">William E. H. Lecky</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_369">369</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GEORGE_WASHINGTON">GEORGE WASHINGTON.</a> By <span class="smcap">William E. H. Lecky</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_378">378</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MIRABEAU">MIRABEAU.</a> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Carlyle</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_384">384</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From Carlyle’s “Essays.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHARLES_JAMES_FOX">CHARLES JAMES FOX.</a> By <span class="smcap">William E. H. Lecky</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_389">389</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JEAN_PAUL_MARAT">JEAN PAUL MARAT.</a> By <span class="smcap">Hippolyte Adolphe Taine</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_396">396</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “French Revolution.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#PRINCE_TALLEYRAND">PRINCE TALLEYRAND.</a> By <span class="smcap">Archibald Alison</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_400">400</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of Europe.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GEORGE_JACQUES_DANTON">GEORGE JACQUES DANTON.</a> By <span class="smcap">Hippolyte Adolphe Taine</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_405">405</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_x" id="page_x">{x}</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “French Revolution.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ROBESPIERRE">ROBESPIERRE.</a> By <span class="smcap">Hippolyte Adolphe Taine</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_410">410</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “French Revolution.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WILLIAM_PITT_THE_YOUNGER">WILLIAM PITT THE YOUNGER.</a> By <span class="smcap">John Richard Green</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_417">417</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “Short History of the English People.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#NAPOLEON_BONAPARTE">NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.</a> By <span class="smcap">Louis Adolphe Thiers</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_423">423</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of the Consulate and Empire.”</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DUKE_OF_WELLINGTON">DUKE OF WELLINGTON.</a> By <span class="smcap">Archibald Alison</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_432">432</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd2">(<i>From the “History of Europe.”</i>)</td></tr> - -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xi" id="page_xi">{xi}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="LIST_OF_ENGRAVED_PORTRAITS" id="LIST_OF_ENGRAVED_PORTRAITS"></a>LIST OF ENGRAVED PORTRAITS.</h2> - -<table cellpadding="0"> -<tr><td> </td><td><small>FACE PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_001">Pericles</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_6">6</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From antique bust, copy in the British Museum.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_002">Alexander the Great</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_14">14</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From antique bust.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_003">Hannibal</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_20">20</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From antique gem.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_004">Julius Cæsar</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From antique statue, Rome.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_005">Mohammed</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From old print, likeness traditional.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_006">Charlemagne</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_100">100</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From old line engraving.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_007">Alfred the Great</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_107">107</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From old line engraving.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_008">William the Conqueror</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_120">120</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>Copy of painting from an ancient effigy.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_009">Martin Luther</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_222">222</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From painting by Cranach.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_010">Ignatius de Loyola</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_230">230</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From portrait by Rubens.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_011">Charles V.</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_240">240</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From portrait by Titian.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_012">William of Nassau</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_248">248</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_013">Richelieu</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_299">299</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From line engraving by Nanteuil.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_014">Oliver Cromwell</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_315">315</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_015">Peter the Great</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_339">339</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd3">(<i>From line engraving by Petrus Anderloni.</i>)</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ill_016">Frederick the Great</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_357">357</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xii" id="page_xii">{xii}</a></span></p> - -<h1>GREAT LEADERS.</h1> - -<h2><a name="THEMISTOCLES_AND_ARISTIDES" id="THEMISTOCLES_AND_ARISTIDES"></a>THEMISTOCLES AND ARISTIDES.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By GEORGE GROTE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Athenian statesmen and soldiers, the first named born 514 <small>B.C.</small>, -died about 449; the second, surnamed “the Just,” died about 468 -<small>B.C.</small>, date of birth unknown. During the Persian invasions of -Greece, Themistocles was the most brilliant figure among the Greek -leaders; his genius was omnipresent, his resources boundless. He -created the maritime supremacy of Athens, and through him the great -victory of Salamis was won. His political ascendency was finally -lost through the distrust created by his unscrupulous and facile -character, and he died an exile in Persia, intriguing against his -native land. Aristides, less brilliant than his rival, was famous -for the stainless integrity and uprightness of his public life, and -his name has passed into history as the symbol of unswerving truth -and justice. He also contributed largely to the successful -leadership of the Hellenic forces against their Asiatic invaders. -References: Plutarch’s “Lives,” Grote’s “History of Greece,” -Curtius’s “History of Greece.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Neither</span> Themistocles nor Aristides could boast of a lineage of gods and -heroes like the Æacid Miltiades;<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> both were of middling station and -circumstances. Aristides, son of Lysimachus, was on both sides of pure -Athenian blood. But the wife of Neocles, father of Themistocles, was a -foreign woman of Thrace or Caria; and such an alliance is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span> less -surprising since Themistocles must have been born in the time of the -Peisistratids,<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> when the status of an Athenian citizen had not yet -acquired its political value. There was a marked contrast between these -two eminent men—those points which stood most conspicuous in one being -comparatively deficient in the other.</p> - -<p>In the description of Themistocles, which we have the advantage of -finding briefly sketched by Thucydides, the circumstance most -emphatically brought out is his immense force of spontaneous invention -and apprehension, without any previous aid either from teaching or -actual practice. The might of unassisted nature was never so strikingly -exhibited as in him; he conceived the complications of a present -embarrassment and divined the chances of a mysterious future with equal -sagacity and equal quickness. The right expedient seemed to flash on his -mind <i>extempore</i>, even in the most perplexing contingencies, without the -least necessity for premeditation.</p> - -<p>Nor was he less distinguished for daring and resource in action. When -engaged on any joint affairs his superior competence marked him out as -the leader for others to follow; and no business, however foreign to his -experience, ever took him by surprise or came wholly amiss to him. Such -is the remarkable picture which Thucydides draws of a countryman whose -death nearly coincided in time with his own birth. The untutored -readiness and universality of Themistocles probably formed in his mind a -contrast to the more elaborate discipline and careful preliminary study -with which the statesmen of his own day—and Pericles specially the -greatest of them—approached the consideration and discussion of public -affairs. Themistocles had received no teaching from philosophers, -sophists, and rhetors, who were the instructors of well-born youth in -the days of Thu<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span>cydides, and whom Aristophanes, the contemporary of the -latter, so unmercifully derides—treating such instruction as worse than -nothing, and extolling in comparison with it the unlettered courage, the -more gymnastic accomplishments of the victors at Marathon.</p> - -<p>The general character given in Plutarch, though many of his anecdotes -are both trifling and apocryphal, is quite consistent with the brief -sketch just cited from Thucydides. Themistocles had an unbounded -passion, not merely for glory—insomuch as the laurels of Miltiades -acquired at Marathon deprived him of rest—but also for display of every -kind. He was eager to vie with men richer than himself in showy -exhibition—one great source, though not the only source of popularity -at Athens; nor was he at all scrupulous in procuring the means of doing -it. Besides being scrupulous in attendance on the ecclesia and -dicastery, he knew most of the citizens by name, and was always ready -for advice to them in their private affairs. Moreover, he possessed all -the tactics of the expert party-man in conciliating political friends -and in defeating personal enemies; and though in the early part of his -life sincerely bent upon the upholding and aggrandizement of his -country, and was on some most critical occasions of unspeakable value to -it, yet on the whole his morality was as reckless as his intelligence -was eminent.</p> - -<p>He was grossly corrupt in the exercise of power and employing tortuous -means, sometimes, indeed, for ends in themselves honorable and -patriotic, but sometimes also merely for enriching himself. He ended a -glorious life by years of deep disgrace, with the forfeiture of all -Hellenic esteem and brotherhood—a rich man, an exile, a traitor, and a -pensioner of the Great King, pledged to undo his own previous work of -liberation accomplished at the victory of Salamis.</p> - -<p>Of Aristides, unfortunately, we possess no description from the hand of -Thucydides; yet his character is so simple and consistent that we may -safely accept the brief but un<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span>qualified encomium of Herodotus and -Plato, expanded as it is in the biography of Plutarch and Cornelius -Nepos, however little the details of the latter can be trusted. -Aristides was inferior to Themistocles in resource, quickness, -flexibility, and power of coping with difficulties; but incomparably -superior to him—as well as to other rivals and contemporaries—in -integrity, public as well as private; inaccessible to pecuniary -temptation as well as to other seductive influences, and deserving as -well as enjoying the highest measure of personal confidence.</p> - -<p>He is described as the peculiar friend of Clisthenes, the first founder -of the democracy; as pursuing a straight and single-handed course in -political life, with no solicitude for party-ties, and with little care -either to conciliate friends or to offend enemies; as unflinching in the -exposure of corrupt practices by whomsoever committed or upheld; as -earning for himself the lofty surname of the Just, not less by his -judicial decisions in the capacity of archon, than by his equity in -private arbitrations, and even his candor in public dispute; and as -manifesting throughout a long public life, full of tempting -opportunities, an uprightness without a flaw and beyond all suspicion, -recognized equally by his bitter contemporary the poet Timocreon, and by -the allies of Athens, upon whom he first assessed the tribute.</p> - -<p>Few of the leading men in any part of Greece were without some taint on -their reputation, deserved or undeserved, in regard to pecuniary -probity; but whoever became notoriously recognized as possessing this -vital quality, acquired by means of it a firmer hold on the public -esteem than even eminent talents could confer. Thucydides ranks -conspicuous probity among the first of the many ascendant qualities -possessed by Pericles; and Nicias, equal to him in this respect, though -immeasurably inferior in every other, owed to it a still larger -proportion of that exaggerated confidence which the Athenian people -continued so long to repose in him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span></p> - -<p>The abilities of Aristides, though apparently adequate to every occasion -on which he was engaged, and only inferior when we compare him with so -remarkable a man as Thucydides, were put in the shade by this -incorruptible probity, which procured for him, however, along with the -general esteem, no inconsiderable amount of private enmity from jobbers, -whom he exposed, and even some jealousy from persons who heard it -proclaimed with offensive ostentation.</p> - -<p>We are told that a rustic and unlettered citizen gave his ostracizing -vote and expressed his dislike against Aristides on the simple ground -that he was tired of hearing him always called the Just. Now the purity -of the most honorable man will not bear to be so boastfully talked of, -as if he were the only honorable man in the country; the less it is -obtruded the more deeply and cordially will it be felt; and the story -just alluded to, whether true or false, illustrates that natural -reaction of feeling produced by absurd encomiasts or perhaps by -insidious enemies under the mask of encomiasts, who trumpeted for -Aristides as the <i>Just</i> man at Attica so as to wound the legitimate -dignity of every one else.</p> - -<p>Neither indiscreet friends nor artful enemies, however, could rob him of -the lasting esteem of his countrymen, which he enjoyed with intervals of -their displeasure to the end of his life. Though he was ostracized -during a part of the period between the battles of Marathon and -Salamis—at a time when the rivalry between him and Themistocles was so -violent that both could not remain at Athens without peril—yet the -dangers of Athens during the invasion of Xerxes brought him back before -the ten years of exile were expired. His fortune, originally very -moderate, was still further diminished during the course of his life, so -that he died very poor, and the state was obliged to lend aid to his -children.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="PERICLES" id="PERICLES"></a>PERICLES.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By ERNST CURTIUS.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[A distinguished statesman, who built up and consolidated the power -of Athens immediately after the Persian wars, born 495 <small>B.C.</small>, died -429. His career was contemporaneous with the highest glory of -Athens in art, arms, literature, and oratory. As an orator Pericles -was second only to Demosthenes, as a statesman second to none. -References: Grote’s “History of Greece,” Curtius’s “History of -Greece,” Plutarch’s “Lives,” Bulwer’s “Athens.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Aspasia</span> came to Athens when everything new and extraordinary, everything -which appeared to be an enlargement of ancient usage, a step forward and -a new acquisition, was joyously welcomed. Nor was it long before it was -recognized that she enchanted the souls of men by no mere arts of -deception of which she had learned the trick. Hers was a lofty and -richly endowed nature with a perfect sense of all that is beautiful, and -hers a harmonious and felicitous development. For the first time the -treasures of Hellenic culture were found in the possession of a woman -surrounded by the graces of her womanhood—a phenomenon which all men -looked on with eyes of wonder. She was able to converse with -irresistible grace on politics, philosophy, and art, so that the most -serious Athenians—even such men as Socrates—sought her out in order to -listen to her conversation.</p> - -<p>But her real importance for Athens began on the day when she made the -acquaintance of Pericles, and formed with him a connection of mutual -love. It was a real marriage, which only lacked the civil sanction -because she was a foreigner; it was an alliance of the truest and -tenderest affection which death alone dissolved—the endless source of a -domestic felicity which no man needed more than the statesman, who lived -retired from all external recreations and was unceasingly engaged in the -labors of his life.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span></p> - -<p>Doubtless the possession of this woman was in many respects invaluable -for Pericles. Not only were her accomplishments the delights of the -leisure hours which he allowed himself and the recreation of his mind -from its cares, but she also kept him in intercourse with the daily life -around him. She possessed what he lacked—the power of being perfectly -at ease in every kind of society; she kept herself informed of -everything that took place in the city; nor can distant countries have -escaped her attention, since she is said to have first acquainted -Pericles with Sicilian oratory, which was at that time developing -itself.</p> - -<p>She was of use to him through her various connections at home and abroad -as well as by the keen glance of her feminine sagacity and by her -knowledge of men. Thus the foremost woman of her age lived in the -society of the man whose superiority of mind had placed him at the head -of the first city of the Hellenes, in loyal devotion to her friend and -husband; and although the mocking spirits at Athens eagerly sought out -every blemish which could be discovered in the life of Pericles, yet no -calumny was ever able to vilify this rare union and to blacken its -memory.</p> - -<p>Pericles had no leisure for occupying himself with the management of his -private property. He farmed out his lands and intrusted the money to his -faithful slave Evangelus, who accurately knew the measure which his -master deemed the right one, and managed the household accordingly; -which, indeed, presented a striking contrast to those of the wealthy -families of Athens, and ill corresponded to the tastes of Pericles’s -sons as they grew up. For in it there was no overflow, no joyous and -reckless expenditure, but so careful an economy that everything was -calculated down to drachm and obolus.</p> - -<p>Pericles was perfectly convinced that nothing short of a perfectly -blameless integrity and the severest self-abnegation could render -possible the permanency of his influence over his fellow-citizens and -prevent the exposure of even the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span> smallest blot to his cavilers and -enemies. After Themistocles had for the first time shown how a statesman -and general might enrich himself, Pericles was in this respect the -admirer and most faithful follower of Aristides, and in the matter of -conscientiousness went even much further than Cimon, spurning on -principle every opportunity offered by the office of general for a -perfectly justifiable personal enrichment.</p> - -<p>All attempts to bribe him remained useless. His lofty sentiments are -evidenced by the remark which he addressed to Sophocles, who fell in -love even in his old age: “Not only the hands, but the eyes also of a -general should practice continence.” The more vivid the appreciation he -felt for female charms the more highly must we esteem the equanimity to -which he had attained by means of a self-command which had become a -matter of habit with him; nor did anything make so powerful an -impression upon the changeable Athenians as the immovable calm of this -great man.</p> - -<p>Pericles was neither a lengthy nor a frequent speaker. He avoided -nothing more scrupulously than superfluous words, and therefore as often -as he appeared before the people he prayed to Zeus to guard him from -useless words. But the brief words which he actually spoke made a -proportionately deep impression upon the citizens. His conception of his -calling was too solemn and lofty to permit him to consent to talk as the -multitude liked. He was not afraid when he found the citizens weak and -irresolute to express to them bitter truths and serious blame.</p> - -<p>His speeches always endeavored to place every case in connection with -facts of a more general kind, so as to instruct and elevate the minds of -the citizens; he never grew weary of pointing out how no individual -happiness was conceivable from the welfare of the entire body; he proved -to the citizens the claim which he had established upon their -confidence; he clearly and concisely developed his political<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span> views, -endeavoring not to talk over his hearers, but to convince them; and when -the feeling of his own superiority was about to tempt him to despise the -multitude, he admonished himself to be patient and long suffering. “Take -heed, Pericles,” he cried to himself, “those whom thou rulest are -Hellenes, citizens of Athens.”</p> - -<p>The principles of the statesmanship of Pericles were so simple that all -citizens were perfectly capable of understanding them; and he attached a -particular value to the idea that the Athenians instead of, like the -Lacedæmonians, seeking their strength in an affectation of secrecy, were -unwilling to overcome their enemies by deception and cunning stratagems. -As the Persian war had seemed inevitable to Themistocles, so the -struggle with Sparta loomed as certain before the eyes of Pericles. The -term of peace allowed before its outbreak had accordingly to be employed -by Athens in preparing herself for the struggle awaiting her forces. -When at last the critical hour arrived Athens was to stand before her -assailants firm and invincible, with her walls for a shield and her navy -for a sword.</p> - -<p>The long schooling through which Pericles had passed in the art of war -and the rare combination of caution and energy which he had displayed in -every command held by him had secured him the confidence of the -citizens. Therefore they for a succession of years elected him general, -and as such invested him with an extraordinary authority, which reduced -the offices of the other nine generals to mere posts of honor which were -filled by persons agreeable to him. During the period of his -administration the whole centers of gravity of public life lay in this -office.</p> - -<p>Inasmuch as Pericles, besides the authority of a “strategy” prolonged to -him in an extraordinary degree, also filled the office of superintendent -of the finances; inasmuch as he was repeatedly and for long periods of -years superintendent of public works; inasmuch as his personal influence -was so great that he could in all important matters determine the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span> civic -elections according to his wish; it is easy to understand how he ruled -the state in time of war and peace, and how the power of both the -council and of the whole civic body in all essentials passed into his -hands.</p> - -<p>He was the type of temperance and sobriety. He made it a rule never to -assist at a festive banquet; and no Athenian could remember to have seen -Pericles, since he stood at the head of the state, in the company of -friends over the wine-cup. He was known to no man except as one serious -and collected, full of grave thoughts and affairs. His whole life was -devoted to the service of the state, and his power accompanied by so -thorough a self-denial and so full a measure of labor that the multitude -in its love of enjoyment could surely not regard the possession of that -power as an enviable privilege. For him there existed only one road, -which he was daily seen to take, the road leading from his house to the -market-place and the council-hall, the seat of the government, where the -current business of state was transacted.</p> - -<h2><a name="EPAMINONDAS" id="EPAMINONDAS"></a>EPAMINONDAS.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By ERNST CURTIUS.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[The greatest of the Theban generals and statesmen, and one of the -greatest men of antiquity; born about 418 <small>B.C.</small>, killed on the -battle-field of Mantinea in the hour of victory, 362. He raised -Thebes from a subordinate place to the leadership of Greece by his -genius in arms and wisdom in council. Eminent as soldier, -statesman, and orator, Epaminondas was a model of virtue in his -private life, and was not only devoted to his native republic, but -in the largest sense a Greek patriot. References: Grote’s “History -of Greece,” Curtius’s “History of Greece,” Plutarch’s “Lives.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> would be difficult to find in the entire course of Greek history any -two statesmen who, in spite of differences in character and outward -conditions of life, resembled one<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span> another so greatly and were as men so -truly the peers of one another as Pericles and Epaminondas. In the case -of both these men the chief foundation of their authority was their -lofty and varied mental culture; what secured to them their intellectual -superiority was the love of knowledge which pervaded and ennobled the -whole being of either. Epaminondas like Pericles directs his native city -as the man in whom the civic community places supreme confidence, and -whom it therefore re-elects from year to year as general. Like Pericles, -Epaminondas left no successor behind him, and his death was also the -close of an historical epoch.</p> - -<p>Epaminondas stood alone from the first; and while Pericles with all his -superiority yet stood essentially on the basis of Attic culture, -Epaminondas, on the other hand, was, so to speak, a stranger in his -native city. Nor was it ever his intention to be a Theban in the sense -in which Pericles was an Athenian. The object of his life was rather to -be a perfect Hellene, while his efforts as a statesman were likewise -simply an endeavor to introduce his fellow-citizens to that true -Hellenism which consisted in civic virtue and in love of wisdom.</p> - -<p>In the very last hour of his life, when he was delighted by the -preservation of his shield, he showed himself a genuine Hellene; thus -again it was a genuinely Greek standpoint from which he viewed the war -against Sparta and Athens as a competitive contest for the honor of the -hegemony in Hellas, an honor which could only be justly won by mental -and moral superiority. The conflict was inevitable; it had become a -national duty, because the supremacy of Sparta had become a tyranny -dishonorable to the Hellenic nation. After Epaminondas liberated the -Greek cities from the Spartan yoke it became the object of his Bœotian -patriotism to make his own native city worthy and capable of assuming -the direction.</p> - -<p>How far Epaminondas might have succeeded in securing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span> a permanent -hegemony<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> over Greek affairs to the Thebans who shall attempt to -judge? He fell in the full vigor of his manhood on the battle-field -where the states, which withstood his policy, had brought their last -resources to bear. Of all statesmen, therefore, he is least to be judged -by the actual results of his policy. His greatness lies in this—that -from his childhood he incessantly endeavored to be to his -fellow-citizens a model of Hellenic virtue. Chaste and unselfish he -passed, ever true to himself, through a most active life, through all -the temptations of the most unexampled success in war, through the whole -series of trials and disasters.</p> - -<p>Epaminondas was not merely the founder of a military organization. He -equally proved the inventiveness of his mind in contriving to obtain for -his country, which was wealthy neither by trade nor manufactures, -pecuniary resources sufficient for maintaining a land-army and a -war-navy commensurate with the needs of a great power. He made himself -master of all the productive ideas of earlier state administrations; and -in particular the Athenians naturally stood before his eyes as models -and predecessors.</p> - -<p>On the one hand, he turned to account for his native city the -improvements made in arms and tactics, which were due to Xenophon, -Chabrias, and Iphicrates; on the other, the example of the Athenians -taught him that the question of the hegemony over Greece could only be -settled by sea. Finally, Epaminondas, more than any other Greek -statesman, followed in the footsteps of Periclean Athens in regarding -the public fostering of art and science as a main duty of that state -which desired to claim a position of primacy.</p> - -<p>Personally he did his utmost to domesticate philosophy at Thebes, not -only as intellectual discourse carried on in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span> select circles, but as the -power of higher knowledge which elevates and purifies the people. Public -oratory found a home at Thebes, together with the free constitution; and -not only did Epaminondas personally prove himself fully the equal of the -foremost orators in Athens—of Callistratus in particular—in power of -speech and in felicitous readiness of mind, but, as the embassy at Susa -shows, his friends too learned in a surprisingly short time to assert -the interests of Thebes by the side of the other states, which had long -kept up foreign relations with vigor, skill, and dignity.</p> - -<p>In every department there were perceptible intellectual mobility and -vigorously sustained effort. Of the fine arts painting received a -specially successful development, distinguished by a thoughtful and -clear treatment of intellectual ideas. Of the architecture of this -period honorable evidence is to this day given by the well-preserved -remains of the fortifications of Messene, constructed under the -direction of Epaminondas—typical specimens of architecture constructed -in the grandest style. Plastic art likewise found a home at Thebes. It -was the endeavor of Epaminondas—although with prudent moderation—to -transfer the splendor of Periclean Athens to Thebes.</p> - -<p>Through Epaminondas Thebes was raised to an equality with the city of -the Athenians, as a seat of a policy aiming at freedom and national -greatness. It thus became possible for the two cities to join hands in -the subsequent struggle for the independence of Greece. And, in this -sense, Epaminondas worked beforehand for the objects of Demosthenes. If -it is considered how, with his small resources, Epaminondas founded or -helped to found Mantinea, Messene, and Megalopolis; how through him -other places, such as Corone and Heraclea, likewise received Theban -settlers—the honor will not be denied him of having been in the royal -art of the foundation of cities the predecessor of Alexander and his -successors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></p> - -<p>But he was also their predecessor in another point. By spreading Greek -manners and ways of life he enlarged the narrow boundaries of the land -of the Greeks, and introduced the peoples of the North into the sphere -of Greek history. In his own person he represented the ideas of a -general Hellenic character, which, unconditioned by local accidents, was -freely raised aloft above the distinction of states and tribes. Hitherto -only great statesmen had appeared who were great Athenians or Spartans. -In Epaminondas this local coloring is of quite inferior importance; he -was a Hellene first, and a Theban only in the second place. Thus he -prepared the standpoint from which to be a Hellene was regarded as an -intellectual privilege, independent of the locality of birth; and this -is the standpoint of Hellenism.</p> - -<h2><a name="ALEXANDER_THE_GREAT" id="ALEXANDER_THE_GREAT"></a>ALEXANDER THE GREAT.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By GEORGE GROTE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Son of Philip, King of Macedon, born 356 <small>B.C.</small>, died 323. The -greatest of the world’s conquerors in the extent and rapidity of -his conquests, he began with the consolidation of his father’s -conquests over the republics of Greece, overthrew the great Persian -Empire, and carried his arms to farther India, within a period of -thirteen years. At his death his dominions were divided among his -principal generals. References: Grote’s “History of Greece,” -Curtius’s “History of Greece,” Plutarch’s “Lives.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> first growth and development of Macedonia during the twenty-two -years preceding the battle of Chæronea, from an embarrassed secondary -state into the first of all known powers, had excited the astonishment -of contemporaries and admiration for Philip’s organizing genius; but the -achievements of Alexander during the twelve years of his reign, throwing -Philip into the shade, had been on a</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_002" style="width: 451px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp014.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp014.jpg" width="451" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>ALEXANDER THE GREAT.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">scale so much grander and vaster, and so completely without serious -reverse or even interruption, as to transcend the measure, not only of -human expectation, but almost of human belief. All antecedent human -parallels—the ruin and captivity of the Lydian Crœsus, the expulsion -and mean life of the Syracusan Dionysius, both of them impressive -examples of the mutability of human condition—sunk into trifles -compared with the overthrow of the towering Persian Colossus.</p> - -<p>Such were the sentiments excited by Alexander’s career even in the -middle of 330 <small>B.C.</small>, more than seven years before his death. During the -following seven years his additional achievements had carried -astonishment yet further. He had mastered, in defiance of fatigue, -hardship, and combat, not merely all the eastern half of the Persian -Empire, but unknown Indian regions beyond its easternmost limits. -Besides Macedonia, Greece, and Thrace, he possessed all that immense -treasure and military force which had once made the Great King so -formidable. By no contemporary man had any such power ever been known or -conceived. With the turn of imagination then prevalent, many were -doubtless disposed to take him for a god on earth, as Grecian spectators -had once supposed with regard to Xerxes, when they beheld the -innumerable Persian host crossing the Hellespont.</p> - -<p>Exalted to this prodigious grandeur, Alexander was at the time of his -death little more than thirty-two years old—the age at which a citizen -of Athens was growing into important commands; ten years less than the -age for a consul at Rome; two years younger than the age at which Timour -first acquired the crown and began his foreign conquests. His -extraordinary bodily powers were unabated; he had acquired a large stock -of military experience; and, what was still more important, his appetite -for further conquest was as voracious, and his readiness to purchase it -at the largest cost of toil or danger as complete as it had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span> when -he first crossed the Hellespont. Great as his past career had been, his -future achievements with such increased means and experience were likely -to be yet greater. His ambition would have been satisfied with nothing -less than the conquest of the whole habitable world as then known; and, -if his life had been prolonged, he probably would have accomplished it.</p> - -<p>The patriotic feelings of Livy dispose him to maintain that Alexander, -had he invaded Italy and assailed Romans and Samnites, would have failed -and perished like his relative Alexander of Epirus. But this conclusion -can not be accepted. If we grant the courage and discipline of the Roman -infantry to have been equal to the best infantry of Alexander’s army, -the same can not be said of the Roman cavalry as compared with the -Macedonian companions. Still less is it likely that a Roman consul, -annually changed, would have been a match for Alexander in military -genius and combination; nor, even if personally equal, would he have -possessed the same variety of troops and arms, each effective in its -separate way, and all conspiring to one common purpose; nor, the same -unbounded influence over their minds in stimulating them to full effort.</p> - -<p>Among all the qualities which go to constitute the highest military -excellence, either as a general or as a soldier, none was wanting in the -character of Alexander. Together with his own chivalrous -courage—sometimes, indeed, both excessive and unseasonable, so as to -form the only military defect which can be fairly imputed to him—we -trace in all his operations the most careful dispositions taken -beforehand, vigilant precaution in guarding against possible reverse, -and abundant resource in adapting himself to new contingencies. His -achievements are the earliest recorded evidence of scientific military -organization on a large scale, and of its overwhelming effects.</p> - -<p>Alexander overawes the imagination more than any other personage of -antiquity by the matchless development of all<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span> that constitutes -effective force—as an individual warrior and as organizer and leader of -armed masses; not merely the blind impetuosity ascribed by Homer to -Ares, but also the intelligent, methodized, and all-subduing compression -which he personifies in Athene. But all his great qualities were fit for -use only against enemies, in which category, indeed, were numbered all -mankind, known and unknown, except those who chose to submit to him. In -his Indian campaigns amid tribes of utter strangers, we perceive that -not only those who stand on their defense, but also those who abandon -their property and flee to the mountains are alike pursued and -slaughtered.</p> - -<p>Apart from the transcendent merits of Alexander as a general, some -authors give him credit for grand and beneficent views on the subject of -imperial government and for intentions highly favorable to the -improvement of mankind. I see no ground for adopting this opinion. As -far as we can venture to anticipate what would have been Alexander’s -future, we see nothing in prospect except years of ever repeated -aggression and conquest, not to be concluded till he had traversed and -subjugated all the inhabited globe. The acquisition of universal -dominion—conceived not metaphorically but literally, and conceived with -greater facility in consequence of the imperfect geographical knowledge -of the time—was the master-passion of his soul.</p> - -<p>“You are a man like all of us, Alexander, except that you abandon your -home,” said the naked Indian to him, “like a medlesome destroyer, to -invade the most distant regions; enduring hardship yourself and -inflicting hardship on others.” Now, how an empire thus boundless and -heterogeneous, such as no prince as has yet ever realized, could have -been administered with any superior advantages to subjects, it would be -difficult to show. The mere task of acquiring and maintaining, of -keeping satraps and tribute-gatherers in authority as well as in -subordination, of suppressing resistances ever liable to recur in -regions distant by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span> months of march, would occupy the whole life of a -world conquerer, without leaving any leisure for the improvements suited -to peace and stability—if we give him credit for such purposes in -theory.</p> - -<p>In respect of intelligence and combining genius, Alexander was Hellenic -to the full; in respect of disposition and purpose, no one could be less -Hellenic. The acts attesting his Oriental violence of impulse, -unmeasured self-will, and exaction of reverence above the limits of -humanity, have been recounted. To describe him as a son of Hellas, -imbued with the political maxims of Aristotle, and bent on the -systematic diffusion of Hellenic culture for the improvement of mankind -is in my judgement an estimate of his character contrary to the -evidence.</p> - -<p>Alexander is indeed said to have invited suggestions from Aristotle as -to the best mode of colonizing; but his temper altered so much after a -few years of Asiatic conquest, that he came not only to lose all -deference for Aristotle’s advice, but even to hate him bitterly. Instead -of “Hellenizing” Asia, he was tending to “Asiatize” Macedonia and -Hellas. His temper and character as modified by a few years of conquest -rendered him quite unfit to follow the course recommended by Aristotle -toward the Greeks—quite as unfit as any of the Persian kings, or as the -French Emperor Napoleon, to endure that partial frustration, compromise, -and smart from personal criticism, which is inseparable from the -position of a limited chief.</p> - -<p>Plutarch states that Alexander founded more than seventy new cities in -Asia. So large a number of them is neither verifiable nor probable, -unless we either reckon up simple military posts or borrow from the list -of foundations established by his successors. Except Alexandria in -Egypt, none of the cities founded by Alexander himself can be shown to -have attained any great development. The process of “Hellenizing” Asia, -in as far as Asia was ever “Hellenized,” which has so often been -ascribed to Alex<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span>ander, was in reality the work of the successors to his -great dominion.</p> - -<p>We read that Alexander felt so much interest in the extension of science -that he gave to Aristotle the immense sum of eight hundred talents in -money, placing under his direction several thousand men, for the purpose -of prosecuting zoölogical researches. These exaggerations are probably -the work of those enemies of the philosopher who decried him as a -pensioner of the Macedonian court; but it is probable enough that -Philip, and Alexander in the earlier part of his reign, may have helped -Aristotle in the difficult process of getting together facts and -specimens for observation from esteem toward him personally rather than -from interest in his discoveries.</p> - -<p>The intellectual turn of Alexander was toward literature, poetry, and -history. He was fond of the “Iliad” especially, as well as of the Attic -tragedians; so that Harpalus, being directed to send some books to him -in Upper Asia, selected as the most acceptable packet various tragedies -of Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, with the dithyrambic poems of -Telestes and the histories of Philistus.</p> - -<h2><a name="HANNIBAL" id="HANNIBAL"></a>HANNIBAL.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THEODOR MOMMSEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[A Carthaginian statesman and soldier, one of the foremost generals -of antiquity, born 247 <small>B.C.</small>, died 183. The series of Italian -campaigns in which he imperiled the very existence of Rome are -commented on by modern military critics as models of brilliancy and -daring, combined with far-sighted prudence. Finally compelled to -evacuate Italy, he was defeated and his army destroyed by Publius -Cornelius Scipio, afterward surnamed Africanus, at the battle of -Zama in Africa in 202. Exiled from Carthage, he spent the latter -years of his life in fomenting war against Rome among the Eastern -nations, and finally committed suicide to prevent being delivered -over<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span> to the hands of Rome. References: Mommsen’s “History of -Rome,” Plutarch’s “Lives.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Hamilcar departed to take command in Spain, he enjoined his son -Hannibal, nine years of age, to swear at the altar of the Supreme God -eternal hatred to the Roman name, and reared him and his younger sons, -Hasdrubal and Mago—the “lion’s brood,” as he called them—in the camp, -as the inheritors of his projects, of his genius, and of his hatred.</p> - -<p>The man whose head and heart had in a desperate emergency and amid a -despairing people paved the way for their deliverance, was no more when -it became possible to carry out his design. Whether his successor -Hasdrubal forbore to make the attack because the proper moment seemed to -him not yet to have arrived, or whether, a statesman rather than a -general, he believed himself unequal to the conduct of the enterprise, -we are unable to determine. When, at the beginning of 219 <small>B.C.</small>, he fell -by the hand of an assassin, the Carthaginian officers of the Spanish -army summoned to fill his place Hannibal, the eldest son of Hamilcar.</p> - -<p>He was still a young man, born in 247 <small>B.C.</small>, and now, therefore, in his -twenty-ninth year; but his life had already been fraught with varied -experience. His first recollections picture to him his father fighting -in a distant land and conquering on Ercte; he shared that unconquered -father’s fortunes and sympathized with his feelings on the peace of -Catulus, on the bitter return home, and throughout the horrors of the -Libyan war. While still a boy he had followed his father to the camp, -and he soon distinguished himself.</p> - -<p>His light and firmly built frame made him an excellent runner and boxer -and a fearless rider; the privation of sleep did not affect him, and he -knew like a soldier how to enjoy or to want his food. Although his youth -had been spent in</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_003" style="width: 443px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp020.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp020.jpg" width="443" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>HANNIBAL.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">the camp, he possessed such culture as was bestowed on the noble -Phœnicians of the time; in Greek, apparently after he had become a -general, he made such progress under the guidance of his intimate friend -Sasilus of Sparta as to be able to compose state papers in that -language.</p> - -<p>As he grew up, he entered the army of his father to perform his first -feats of arms under the paternal eye, and to see him fall in battle by -his side. Thereafter he had commanded the cavalry under his sister’s -husband Hasdrubal and distinguished himself by brilliant personal -bravery as well as by his talents as a leader. The voice of his comrades -now summoned him—their tried and youthful leader—to the chief command, -and he could now execute the designs for which his father and his -brother-in-law had died.</p> - -<p>He took possession of the inheritance, and was worthy of it. His -contemporaries tried to cast stains of all sorts on his character; the -Romans charged him with cruelty, the Carthaginians with covetousness; -and it is true that he hated as only Oriental natures know how to hate, -and that a general who never fell short of money and stores can hardly -have been other than covetous. Nevertheless, though anger and envy and -meanness have written his history, they have not been able to mar the -pure and noble image which it presents.</p> - -<p>Laying aside wretched inventions which furnished their own refutation, -and some things which his lieutenants Hannibal Monomachus, and Mago the -Samnite, were guilty of doing in his name, nothing occurs in the -accounts regarding him which may not be justified in the circumstances -and by the international law of the times; and all agree in this—that -he combined in rare perfection discretion and enthusiasm, caution and -energy.</p> - -<p>He was peculiarly marked by that inventive craftiness which forms one of -the leading traits of the Phœnician character—he was fond of taking -singular and unexpected routes; ambushes and strategems of all sorts -were familiar to him; and he studied the character of his antagonists -with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span> unprecedented care. By an unrivaled system of espionage—he had -regular spies even in Rome—he kept himself informed of the projects of -the enemy; he himself was frequently seen wearing disguises and false -hair in order to procure information on some point or another.</p> - -<p>Every page of history attests his genius as a general; and his gifts as -a statesman were, after the peace with Rome, no less conspicuously -displayed in his reform of the Carthaginian constitution and in the -unparalleled influence which as an exiled strength he exercised in the -cabinets of the Eastern powers. The power which he wielded over men is -shown by his incomparable control over an army of various nations and -many tongues—an army which never in the worst times mutinied against -him. He was a great man; wherever he went he riveted the eyes of all.</p> - -<p>Hannibal’s cautious and masterly execution of his plan of crossing the -Alps into Italy, instead of transporting his army by sea, in its -details, at all events, deserves our admiration, and, to whatever causes -the result may have been due—whether it was due mainly to the favor of -fortune or mainly to the skill of the general—the grand idea of -Hamilcar, that of taking up the conflict with Rome in Italy, was now -realized. It was his genius that projected the expedition; and the -unerring tact of historical tradition has always dwelt on the last link -in the great chain of preparatory steps, the passage of the Alps, with a -greater admiration than on the battles of the Trasimene Lake and of the -plain of Cannæ.</p> - -<p>Hannibal knew Rome better, perhaps, than the Romans knew it themselves. -It was clearly apparent that the Italian federation was in political -solidity and in military resources far superior to an adversary who -received only precarious and irregular support from home; and that the -Phœnician foot-soldier was, notwithstanding all the pains taken by -Hannibal, far inferior in point of tactics to the legionary, had been -completely proved by the defensive movements of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span> Scipio. From these -convictions flowed two fundamental principles which determined -Hannibal’s whole method of operations in Italy, viz., that the war -should be carried on somewhat adventurously, with constant changes in -the plan and in the theatre of operations; and that its favorable issue -could only be looked for as the result of political and not of military -successes—of the gradual loosening and breaking up of the Italian -federation.</p> - -<p>This aim was the aim dictated to him by right policy, because mighty -conqueror though he was in battle, he saw very clearly that on each -occasion he vanquished the generals but not the city, and that after -each new battle, the Romans remained as superior to the Carthaginians as -he was personally superior to the Roman commanders. That Hannibal, even -at the height of his fortune, never deceived himself on this point is a -fact more wonderful than his wonderful battles.</p> - -<h2><a name="THE_GRACCHI" id="THE_GRACCHI"></a>THE GRACCHI.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By PLUTARCH.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Tiberius Sempronius and Caius Sempronius, sons of Tiberius -Gracchus by Cornelia, daughter of Scipio Africanus, the conqueror -of Hannibal and Carthage. The first, born 168 <small>B.C.</small>, died in 133; -the second, born about 159 <small>B.C.</small>, died in 121. The brothers, though -on both sides of the highest patrician rank and descent, espoused -the democratic cause. Both rose to the rank of tribune. Tiberius -carried through an agrarian law dividing the surplus lands of the -republic among the poor, and was killed in a popular <i>emeute</i>. -Caius caused to be passed a poor-law giving monthly distributions -of corn. He also transferred the judicial power largely to the -equites or knights, and proposed to extend the Roman franchise to -all Italy. He committed suicide to save himself from assassination. -References: Arnold’s “History of Rome” and Mommsen’s “History of -Rome.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cornelia</span>, taking upon herself the care of the household and the -education of her children, approved herself so<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span> discreet a matron, so -affectionate a mother, and so constant and noble-spirited a woman, that -Tiberius seemed to all men to have done nothing unreasonable in choosing -to die for such a woman, who, when King Ptolemy himself proffered her -his crown and would have married her, refused it and chose rather to -live a widow. In this state she continued and lost all her children, -except one daughter, who was married to Scipio the younger, and two -sons, Tiberius and Caius.</p> - -<p>These she brought up with such care, that though they were without -dispute in natural endowments and disposition the first among the Romans -of their day, yet they seemed to owe their virtues even more to their -education than to their birth. And, as in the statues and pictures made -of Castor and Pollux, though the brothers resemble one another, yet -there is a difference to be perceived in their countenances between the -one who delighted in the cestus, and the other that was famous in the -course; so between these two youths, though there was a strong general -likeness in their common love of fortitude and temperance, in their -liberality, their eloquence, and their greatness of mind, yet in their -actions and administrations of public affairs, a considerable variation -showed itself.</p> - -<p>Tiberius, in the form and expression of his countenance and in his -gesture and motion, was gentle and composed; but Caius, earnest and -vehement. And so in their public speeches to the people, the one spoke -in a quiet, orderly manner, standing throughout on the same spot; the -other would walk about on the hustings and in the heat of his orations -pull his gown off his shoulders, and was the first of all the Romans to -use such gestures. Caius’s oratory was impetuous and passionate, making -everything tell to the utmost, whereas Tiberius was gentle and -persuasive, awakening emotions of pity. His diction was pure and -carefully correct, while that of Caius was rich and vehement.</p> - -<p>So likewise in their way of living and at their tables; Tiberius was -frugal and plain, Caius, compared with others,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span> temperate and even -austere, but contrasting with his brother in a fondness for new fashions -and varieties. The same difference that appeared in their diction was -observable also in their tempers. The one was mild and reasonable; the -other rough and passionate, and to that degree that often in the midst -of speaking he was so hurried away by his passion against his judgment -that his voice lost its tone and he began to pass into mere abusive -talking, spoiling his whole speech.</p> - -<p>As a remedy to this excess he made use of an ingenious servant of his, -one Licinius, who stood constantly behind him with a sort of pitch-pipe, -or instrument to regulate the voice by, and whenever he perceived his -master’s tone alter and break with anger, he struck a soft note with his -pipe, on hearing which Caius immediately checked the vehemence of his -passion and his voice grew quieter, and he allowed himself to be -recalled to temper.</p> - -<p>Such are the differences between the two brothers, but their valor in -war against their country’s enemies, their justice in the government of -its subjects, their care and industry in office, and their self-command -in all that regarded their pleasures, were equally remarkable in both. -Tiberius was the elder by nine years; owing to which their actions as -public men were divided by the difference of the times in which those of -the one and those of the other were performed. The power they would have -exercised, had they both flourished together, could scarcely have failed -to overcome all resistance.</p> - -<p>Their greatest detractors and their worst enemies could not but allow -that they had a genius to virtue beyond all other Romans, which was -improved also by a generous education. Besides, the Gracchi, happening -to live when Rome had her greatest repute for honor and virtuous -actions, might justly have been ashamed if they had not also left to the -next generation the whole inheritance of the virtues of their -ancestors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span></p> - -<p>The integrity of the two Romans, and their superiority to money was -chiefly remarkable in this—that in office and the administration of -public affairs they kept themselves from the imputation of unjust gain. -The chief things in general which they aimed at were the settlement of -cities and mending the highways; and in particular the boldest design -which Tiberius is famed for is the recovery of the public land; and -Caius gained his greatest reputation by the addition, for the exercise -of judicial powers, of three hundred of the order of knights to the same -number of senators.</p> - -<p>Tiberius was the first who attempted to scale the walls of Carthage, -which was no mean exploit. We may add the peace which he concluded with -the Numantines, by which he saved the lives of twenty thousand Romans, -who otherwise had certainly been cut off. And Caius, not only at home, -but in war in Sardinia, displayed distinguished courage. So that their -early actions were no small argument that afterward they might have -rivaled the best of the Roman commanders if they had not died so young.</p> - -<p>Of the Gracchi, neither the one nor the other was the first to shed the -blood of his fellow-citizens; and Caius is reported to have avoided all -manner of resistance, even when his life was aimed at, showing himself -always valiant against a foreign enemy, but wholly inactive in a -sedition. This was the reason that he went from his own house unarmed, -and withdrew when the battle began, and in all respects showed himself -anxious rather not to do any harm to others than not suffer any himself. -Even the very flight of the Gracchi must not be looked on as an argument -of a mean spirit, but an honorable retreat from endangering others.</p> - -<p>The greatest crime that can be laid to Tiberius’s charge was the -disposing of his fellow-tribune, and seeking afterward a second -tribuneship for himself. Tiberius and Caius by nature had an excessive -desire for glory and honors. Beyond this, their enemies could find -nothing to bring<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span> against them; but as soon as the contention began with -their adversaries, their heat and passions would so far prevail beyond -their natural temper that by them, as by ill-winds, they were driven -afterward to all their rash undertakings. What would be more just and -honorable than their first design, had not the power and faction of the -rich, by endeavoring to abrogate that law, engaged them both in those -fatal quarrels, the one for his own preservation, the other to avenge -his brother’s death who was murdered without law or justice.</p> - -<h2><a name="CAIUS_MARIUS" id="CAIUS_MARIUS"></a>CAIUS MARIUS.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[An able Roman general and leader of the democratic faction, born -157 <small>B.C.</small>, died 86. The military skill of Marius finished the -Jugurthine war and saved Rome from the Cimbri and Teutons. Though -of plebeian birth he married into an eminent patrician family, and -became thereby the uncle of Julius Cæsar, who attached himself to -the Marian party in the political wars which raged between the -popular and patrician factions, the latter being led by Sylla. The -worst stain on the memory of Marius is the massacre which he -permitted at the beginning of his last consulate. References: -Mommsen’s “History of Rome,” Froude’s “Life of Cæsar,” Plutarch’s -“Lives.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marius</span> was born at Arpinum, a Latin township, seventy miles from the -capital. His father was a small farmer, and he was himself bred to the -plow. He joined the army early, and soon attracted notice by the -punctual discharge of his duties. In a time of growing looseness, Marius -was strict himself in keeping discipline and in enforcing it as he rose -in the service. He was in Spain when Jugurtha<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span> was there, and made -himself specially useful to Scipio;<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> he forced his way steadily upward -by his mere soldier-like qualities to the rank of military tribune. -Rome, too, had learned to know him, for he was chosen tribune of the -people the year after the murder of Caius Gracchus. Being a self-made -man, he naturally belonged to the popular party. While in office he gave -offense in some way to the men in power, and was called before the -senate to answer for himself. But he had the right on his side, it is -likely, for they found him stubborn and impertinent, and they could make -nothing of their charges against him.</p> - -<p>He was not bidding, however, at this time for the support of the mob. He -had the integrity and sense to oppose the largesses of corn, and he -forfeited his popularity by trying to close the public granaries before -the practice had passed into a system. He seemed as if made of a block -of hard Roman oak, gnarled and knotted but sound in all its fibers. His -professional merit continued to recommend him. At the age of forty he -became prætor,<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> and was sent to Spain, where he left a mark again by -the successful severity by which he cleared the provinces of banditti. -He was a man neither given himself to talking nor much talked about in -the world; but he was sought for wherever work was to be done, and he -had made himself respected and valued; for after his return from the -peninsula he had married into one of the most distinguished of the -patrician families.</p> - -<p>Marius by this marriage became a person of social consequence. His -father had been a client of the Metelli; and Cæcelius Metellus, who must -have known Marius by reputation and probably in person, invited him to -go as<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span> second in command in the African campaign.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> The war dragged on, -and Marius, perhaps ambitious, perhaps impatient at the general’s want -of vigor, began to think he could make quicker work of it. There was -just irritation that a petty African prince could defy the whole power -of Rome for so many years; and though a democratic consul had been -unheard of for a century, the name of Marius began to be spoken of as a -possible candidate. Marius consented to stand. The patricians strained -their resources to defeat him, but he was chosen with enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>A shudder of alarm ran, no doubt, through the senate house when the -determination of the people was known. A successful general could not be -disposed of as easily as oratorical tribunes. Fortunately Marius was not -a politician. He had no belief in democracy. He was a soldier and had a -soldier’s way of thinking on government and the methods of it. His first -step was a reformation in the army. Hitherto the Roman legions had been -no more than the citizens in arms, called for the moment from their -various occupations to return to them when the occasion for their -services was past. Marius had perceived that fewer men, better trained -and disciplined, could be made more effective and be more easily -handled. He had studied war as a science. He had perceived that the -present weakness need be no more than an accident, and that there was a -latent force in the Roman state which needed only organization to resume -its ascendancy.</p> - -<p>“He enlisted,” it was said, “the worst of the citizens”—men, that is to -say, who had no occupation, and became soldiers by profession; and as -persons without property could not have furnished themselves at their -own cost, he must have carried out the scheme proposed by Gracchus, and -equipped them at the expense of the state. His discipline was of the -sternest. The experiment was new; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span> men of rank who had a taste for -war in earnest, and did not wish that the popular party should have the -whole benefit and credit of the improvements were willing to go with -him; among them a dissipated young patrician, called Lucius Sylla, whose -name was also destined to be memorable.</p> - -<p>Marius had formed an army barely in time to save Italy from being -totally overwhelmed. A vast migratory wave of population had been set in -motion behind the Rhine and Danube. The hunting-grounds were too strait -for the numbers crowded into them, and two enormous hordes were rolling -westward and southward in search of some new abiding-place. The Teutons -came from the Baltic down across the Rhine into Luxemburg. The Cimbri -crossed the Danube near its sources into Illyria. Both Teutons and -Cimbri were Germans, and both were making for Gaul by different routes. -Each division consisted of hundreds of thousands. They traveled with -their wives and children, their wagons, as with the ancient Scythians -and with the modern South African Dutch, being their homes. Two years -had been consumed in these wanderings, and Marius was by this time ready -for them.</p> - -<p>Marius was continued in office, and was a fourth time consul. He had -completed his military reforms, and the army was now a professional -service with regular pay. Trained corps of engineers were attached to -each legion. The campaigns of the Romans were henceforth to be conducted -with spade and pickaxe as well as with sword and javelin, and the -soldiers learned the use of tools as well as of arms. The Teutons were -destroyed on the twentieth of July, 102 <small>B.C.</small> In the year following the -same fate overtook their comrades. The victories of Marius mark a new -epoch in Roman history. The legions were no longer the levy of the -citizens in arms, who were themselves the state for which they fought. -The legionaries were citizens still. They had votes and they used them; -but they were professional soldiers with the modes of thought which -belong to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span> soldiers, and besides the power of the hustings was now the -power of the sword.</p> - -<p>The danger from the Germans was no sooner gone than political anarchy -broke loose again. Marius, the man of the people, was the savior of his -country. He was made a consul a fifth time, and then a sixth. An -indifferent politician, however, he stood aloof in the fierce faction -contest between the aristocrats and the popular party. At last he had -almost withdrawn from public life, as he had no heart for the quarrel, -and did not care to exert his power. For eight years both he and his -rival Sylla kept aloof from politics and were almost unheard of.</p> - -<p>When Sylla came to the front, it was as leader of the aristocratic power -in the state. Sulpicius Rufus, once a champion of the senate and the -most brilliant orator in Rome, went over to the people, and as tribune -demanded the deposition of Sylla. The latter replied by leading his -legionaries to Rome. Sulpicius was killed; Marius, the savior of his -country, had to fly for his life, pursued by assassins, with a price set -upon his head.</p> - -<p>While Sylla was absent in the East prosecuting that magnificent campaign -against Mithridates, King of Pontus, which stamped him the first soldier -of his time, the popular party again raised its head. Old Marius, who -had been hunted through marsh and forest, and had been hiding with -difficulty in Africa, came back at the news that Italy had risen again. -Marius and Cinna joined their forces, appeared together at the gates of -the capital, and Rome capitulated. There was a bloody score to be wiped -out. Marius bears the chief blame for the scenes which followed. A price -had been set on his head, his house had been destroyed, his property had -been confiscated, he, himself, had been chased like a wild beast, and he -had not deserved such treatment. He had saved Italy, when but for him it -would have been wasted by the swords of the Germans.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span></p> - -<p>His power had afterward been absolute, but he had not abused it for -party purposes. The senate had no reason to complain of him. His crime -in their eyes had been his eminence. They had now shown themselves as -cruel as they were worthless; and if public justice was disposed to make -an end of them, he saw no cause to interfere. From retaliatory political -vengeance the transition was easy to plunder and wholesale murder; and -for many days the wretched city was made a prey to robbers and -cut-throats.</p> - -<p>So ended the year 87, the darkest and bloodiest which the guilty city -had yet experienced. Marius and Cinna were chosen consuls for the -ensuing year and a witch’s prophecy was fulfilled that Marius should -hold a seventh consulate. But the glory had departed from him. His sun -was already setting, redly, among crimson clouds. He lived but a -fortnight after his inauguration, and died in his bed at the age of -seventy-one. “The mother of the Gracchi,” said Mirabeau, “cast the dust -of her murdered sons into the air, and out of it sprang Caius Marius.”</p> - -<h2><a name="MITHRIDATES_KING_OF_PONTUS" id="MITHRIDATES_KING_OF_PONTUS"></a>MITHRIDATES, KING OF PONTUS.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THEODOR MOMMSEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Surnamed “the Great,” born about 132 <small>B.C.</small>, died in 63. This -powerful Eastern monarch, who greatly extended his frontiers beyond -his original kingdom, was one of the most formidable barriers to -Roman power in Asia. He organized a league and severely taxed the -military resources of the republic. Sulla spent four years in -compelling him to submit to an honorable peace. In the second -Mithridatic war he was successively defeated by Lucullus and -Pompey. He finally<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span> committed suicide by the hands of one of his -mercenaries. References: Mommsen’s “History of Rome,” Arnold’s -“History of Rome.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Partly</span> through the constant growth of oppression naturally incident to -every tyrannic government, partly through the indirect operation of the -Roman revolution—in the seizure, for instance, of the property of the -soil in the province of Asia by Caius Gracchus, in the Roman tenths and -customs, and in the human hunts which the collectors of revenue added to -their other avocations there—the Roman rule, barely tolerable from the -first, pressed so heavily on Asia, that neither the king’s crown nor the -peasant’s hut there was any longer safe from confiscation, that every -stalk of corn seemed to grow for Roman tribute, and every child of free -parents seemed born for the Roman slave-driver.</p> - -<p>It is true that the Asiatic bore even this torture with his -inexhaustible passive endurance; but it was not patience or reflection -that made him bear it peacefully. It was rather the peculiarly Oriental -want of power to take the initiative; and in these peaceful lands, among -these effeminate nations, strange and terrible things might happen if -once there should appear among them a man who knew how to give the -signal for revolt.</p> - -<p>There reigned at that time in the kingdom of Pontus Mithridates VI, -surnamed Eupator, who traced back his lineage on the father’s side, in -the sixteenth generation to King Darius, son of Hystaspes, in the eighth -to Mithridates I, the founder of the Pontic Empire, and was on the -mother’s side descended from the Alexandridæ and the Seleucidæ. After -the early death of his father, Mithridates Euergetes, who fell by the -hand of an assassin at Synope, he had received the title of king when a -boy of eleven years old; but the diadem had only brought to him trouble -and danger. It is said that in order to escape from the daggers of his -legal protectors, he became of his own accord a wanderer; and during -seven years, changing his resting-place night<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span> after night, a fugitive -in his own kingdom, led the life of a lonely hunter.</p> - -<p>Thus the boy grew into a mighty man. Although our accounts regarding him -are in substance traceable to written records of contemporaries, yet the -legendary tradition, which is generated with the rapidity of lightning -in the East, early adorned the mighty king with many of the traits of -its Samson and Rustem. These traits, however, belong to his character -just as the crown of clouds belong to the highest mountain peaks; the -outline of the figure appears in both cases only more colored and -fantastic, not disturbed or essentially altered.</p> - -<p>The armor which fitted the gigantic frame of King Mithridates excited -the wonder of the Asiatics, and still more that of the Italians. As a -runner he overtook the swiftest deer; as a rider he broke in the wildest -steed, and was able by changing horses to accomplish one hundred and -twenty miles in a day; as a charioteer he drove with sixteen in hand, -and gained in competition many a prize—it was dangerous, no doubt, in -such sport to carry off victory from the king.</p> - -<p>In hunting on horseback he hit the game at full gallop, and never missed -his aim. He challenged competition at the table also; he arranged -banqueting matches and carried off in person the prizes proposed for the -most substantial eater and the hardest drinker. His intellectual wants -he satisfied by the wildest superstition—the interpretation of dreams -and of the Greek mysteries occupied not a few of the king’s hours—and -by a rude adoption of the Hellenic civilization. He was fond of Greek -art and music—that is to say, he collected precious articles, rich -furniture, old Persian and Greek articles of luxury—his cabinet of -rings was famous—he had constantly Greek historians, philosophers, and -poets in his train; and proposed prizes at his court festivals, not only -for the greatest eaters and drinkers, but also for the merriest jester -and the best singer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span></p> - -<p>Such was the man; the sultan corresponded. In the East, where the -relation between the ruler and the ruled bears the relation of natural -rather than of moral law, the subject resembles the dog alike in -fidelity and in falsehood, the ruler is cruel and distrustful. In both -respects Mithridates has hardly been surpassed. By his orders there died -or pined in perpetual captivity, for real or alleged treason, his -mother, his brother, his sister espoused to him, three of his sons, and -as many of his daughters. Still more revolting, perhaps, is the fact -that among his secret papers were found sentences of death, drawn up -beforehand, against his most confidential servants.</p> - -<p>In like manner it was a genuine trait of the sultan that he afterward, -for the mere purpose of depriving his enemy of trophies of victory, -caused his whole harem to be killed, and distinguished his favorite -concubine, a beautiful Ephesian, by allowing her to choose the mode of -death. He prosecuted the experimental studies of poisons and antidotes -as an important branch of the business of government, and tried to inure -his body to particular poisons. He had early learned to look for treason -and assassination at the hands of everybody, especially his nearest -relations, and he had early learned to practice them against everybody, -and most of all against those nearest him; of which the necessary -consequence—attested by history—was that all his undertakings finally -miscarried through the perfidy of those whom he trusted.</p> - -<p>At the same time we meet with isolated traits of high-minded justice. -When he punished traitors, he ordinarily spared those who were involved -in the crime solely through their personal relations with the leading -culprits; but such fits of equity are to be met with in every barbarous -tyrant. What really distinguishes Mithridates amid the multitude of -similar sultans is his boundless activity. He disappeared one fine -morning from his palace, and remained unheard of for months, so that he -was given over as lost; when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span> returned, he had wandered <i>incognito</i> -through all anterior Asia, and reconnoitered everywhere the country and -the people.</p> - -<p>In like manner he was not only generally fluent in speech, but he -administered justice to each of the twenty-two nations over which he -ruled in its own language, without needing an interpreter—a trait -significant of the versatile East. His whole activity as a ruler bears -the same character. So far as we know, his energies, like those of every -other sultan, were spent in collecting treasures, in assembling -armies—which were usually, in his earlier years at least, led against -the enemy not by the king in person, but by some Greek <i>condottiere</i>—in -efforts to add new satrapies to the old.</p> - -<p>Of higher elements—desire to advance civilization, earnest leadership -of the national opposition, special gifts of genius—there are found, in -our traditional accounts at least, no distinct traces in Mithridates, -and we have no reason to place him on a level even with the great rulers -of the Osmans, such as Mohammed II and Suleiman. Notwithstanding his -Hellenic culture, which sat on him not much better than his Roman armor -on his Cappadocians, he was throughout an Oriental of the ordinary -stamp, coarse, full of the most sensual appetites, superstitious, cruel, -perfidious, and unscrupulous, but so vigorous in organization, so -powerful in physical endowments, that his defiant laying about him and -his unshaken courage in resistance frequently look like talent, -sometimes even like genius.</p> - -<p>Granting even that during the death-struggle of the republic it was -easier to offer resistance than in the times of Scipio or Trajan, and -that it was only in the complication of the Asiatic events with the -internal commotions of Italy that rendered it possible for Mithridates -to resist the Romans twice as long as Jugurtha did, it nevertheless -remains true that before the Parthian war he was the only enemy who gave -serious trouble to the Romans in the East, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span> that he defended himself -as the lion of the desert defends himself against the hunter.</p> - -<p>But whatever judgment we may form as to the individual character of the -king, his historical position remains in a high degree significant. The -Mithridatic wars formed at once the last movement of the political -opposition offered by Hellas to Rome and the beginning of a revolt -against the Roman supremacy resting on very different and far deeper -grounds of antagonism—the national reaction of the Asiatics against the -Occidentals, a new passage in the huge duel between the West and the -East which has been transmitted from the struggle of Marathon to the -present generation, and will, perhaps, reckon its future by thousands of -years as it has reckoned its past.</p> - -<h2><a name="LUCIUS_SYLLA" id="LUCIUS_SYLLA"></a>LUCIUS SYLLA.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Lucius Cornelius Sulla or Sylla (Felix) dictator of Rome, born 138 -<small>B.C.</small>, died in 78. Leader of the aristocratic party in the state, he -destroyed the party of popular reform, became dictator, and -proscribed thousands of the best citizens of the republic, who were -hunted down like wild beasts. In the Social and the Samnite war, as -in the first war against Mithridates, he displayed the genius of a -great soldier, surpassing even that of his able rival Marius. He -reorganized the Roman Constitution, concentrated all power in the -hands of the senatorial oligarchy, and paved the way for Julius -Cæsar to overthrow the liberties of the republic, though the latter -belonged to the opposite party. References: Froude’s “Life of -Cæsar,” Plutarch’s “Lives,” Mommsen’s “History of Rome.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Lucius Sylla</span>, a patrician of the purest blood, had inherited a moderate -fortune, and had spent it like other young men of rank, lounging in -theatres and amusing himself with dinner-parties. He was a poet, an -artist, and a wit, but each and everything with the languor of an<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span> -amateur. His favorite associates were actresses, and he had neither -obtained nor aspired to any higher reputation than that of a cultivated -man of fashion.</p> - -<p>His distinguished birth was not apparent in his person. He had red hair, -hard blue eyes, and a complexion white and purple, with the colors so -ill-mixed, that his face was compared to a mulberry sprinkled with -flour. Ambition, he appeared to have none, and when he exerted himself -to be appointed quæstor<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> to Marius on the African expedition, Marius -was disinclined to take him as having no recommendation beyond -qualifications which the consul of the plebeians disdained and disliked. -Marius, however, soon discovered his mistake. Beneath his constitutional -indolence Sylla was by nature a soldier, a statesman, a diplomatist. He -had been too contemptuous of the common objects of politicians to -concern himself with the intrigues of the forum, but he had only to -exert himself to rise with easy ascendancy to the command of every -situation in which he might be placed.</p> - -<p>The war of factions which exiled Marius, placed Sylla at the head of the -expedition against the King of Pontus. He defeated Mithridates, he drove -him back out of Greece and pursued him into Asia. He left him still in -possession of his hereditary kingdom; but he left him bound, so far as -treaties could bind so ambitious a spirit, to remain thenceforward on -his own frontiers. He recovered Greece, the islands, and the Roman -provinces in Asia Minor. He extorted an indemnity of five millions, and -executed many of the wretches who had been active in the murders. He -raised a fleet in Egypt with which he drove the pirates out of the -archipelago back into their own waters. He restored the shattered -prestige of Roman authority, and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span> won for himself a reputation which -his later cruelties could stain but not efface. During his Eastern -campaign, a period of more than four years, the popular party had -recovered ascendancy at Rome.</p> - -<p>The time was come when Sylla was to demand a reckoning for what had been -done in his absence. No Roman general had deserved better of his -country; his task was finished. He had measured the difficulty of the -task which lay before him, but he had an army behind him accustomed to -victory, and recruited by thousands of exiles who had fled from the rule -of the democracy. He intended to re-enter Rome with the glories of his -conquests about him, for revenge, and a counter-revolution. Sylla had -lingered at Athens, collecting paintings and statues and -manuscripts—the rarest treasures on which he could lay his hands—to -decorate his Roman palace. On receiving the consul’s answer he sailed -for Brindisi in the spring of 83 with forty thousand legionaries and a -large fleet.</p> - -<p>The war lasted for more than a year. At length the contest ended in a -desperate fight under the walls of Rome itself on the first of November, -<small>B.C.</small>, 82. The popular army was at last cut to pieces, a few thousand -prisoners taken, but they were murdered afterward in cold blood. Young -Marius killed himself. Sertorius fled to Spain, and Sylla and the -aristocracy were masters of Rome and Italy. Sylla was under no -illusions. He understood the problem which he had in hand. He knew that -the aristocracy were detested by nine tenths of the people; he knew that -they deserved to be detested, but they were at least gentlemen by birth -and breeding.</p> - -<p>The democrats, on the other hand, were insolent upstarts who, instead of -being grateful for being allowed to live and work and pay taxes and -serve in the army, had dared to claim a share in the government, had -turned against their masters, and had set their feet upon their necks. -They were ignorant, and without leaders could be controlled<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span> easily. The -guilt and danger lay with the men of wealth and intellect, the country -gentlemen, the minority of knights and patricians like Cinna,<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> who -had taken the popular side and deserted their own order. There was no -hope for an end of agitation till every one of these men had been rooted -out.</p> - -<p>Appointed dictator, at his own direction, by the senate, he at once -outlawed every magistrate, every public servant, civil or municipal, who -had held office under the rule of Cinna. It mattered little to Sylla who -were included if none escaped who were really dangerous to him; and an -order was issued for a slaughter of the entire number, the confiscation -of their property, and the division of it between the informers and -Sylla’s friends and soldiers. It was one of those deliberate acts, -carried out with method and order, which are possible only in countries -in an advanced stage of civilization, and which show how thin is the -film spread over human ferocity by what is called progress and culture. -Four thousand seven hundred persons fell in the proscription of Sylla, -all men of education and fortune. Common report or private information -was at once indictment and evidence, and accusation was in itself -condemnation.</p> - -<p>The political reform enforced by the dictator gave the senate complete -restrictive control over legislation and administration. All -constitutional progress which had been made in the interests of the -people was utterly swept away. The senate was made omnipotent and -irresponsible. Sylla’s career was drawing to its close, and the end was -not the least remarkable feature of it. He resigned the dictatorship and -became a private citizen again, amusing the leisure of his age, as he -had abused the leisure of his youth, with theatres and actresses and -dinner-parties.</p> - -<p>He too, like so many of the great Romans, was indifferent to life; of -power for the sake of power he was entirely<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span> careless; and if his -retirement had been more dangerous to him than it really was, he -probably would not have postponed it. He was a person of singular -character, and not without many qualities which were really admirable. -He was free from any touch of charlatanry. He was true, simple, and -unaffected, and even without ambition in the mean and personal sense. -His fault, which he would have denied to be a fault, was that he had a -patrician disdain of mobs and suffrages and the cant of popular liberty.</p> - -<p>The type repeats itself era after era. Sylla was but Graham of -Claverhouse in a Roman dress and with an ampler stage. His courage in -laying down his authority has often been commented on, but the risk -which he incurred was insignificant. Of assassination he was in no -greater danger than when dictator, while the temptation to assassinate -him was less. His influence was practically undiminished, and as long as -he lived he remained, and could not but remain, the first person in the -republic. He lived a year after his retirement and died 78 <small>B.C.</small>, being -occupied at the time in writing his memoirs, which have been -unfortunately lost. He was buried gorgeously in the Campus Martius, -among the old kings of Rome.</p> - -<h2><a name="POMPEY" id="POMPEY"></a>POMPEY.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS KERCHEVER ARNOLD.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Known as Cneius Pompeius Magnus (or the Great), born 106 <small>B.C.</small>, -assassinated in Egypt by one of his own officers in 48. Best known -as the most formidable rival of Julius Cæsar; his career was -eminently fortunate till he sunk before the ascendancy of a greater -man. He achieved brilliant victories for Rome, and was honored with -three triumphs. Pompey was identified in the factional wars of -Italy, with the party led by Sulla. He finally became triumvir in -the division of power with Cæsar and Crassus. In the civil war -which ensued<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span> Pompey was defeated by Cæsar at the battle of -Pharsalia in Thessaly. After this defeat he fled to Egypt, where, -as he was leaving the boat for the shore, he was stabbed in the -back.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> tears shed for Pompey were not only those of domestic infliction; -his fate called forth a more general and honorable mourning. No man had -ever gained at so early an age the affections of his countrymen; none -had enjoyed them so largely, or preserved them so long with so little -interruption; and at the distance of eighteen centuries the feeling of -his contemporaries may be sanctioned by the sober judgment of history.</p> - -<p>He entered upon life as a distinguished member of an oppressed party, -which was just arriving at its hour of triumph and retaliation; he saw -his associates plunged into rapine and massacre, but he preserved -himself pure from the contagion of their crimes; and when the death of -Sylla left him almost at the head of the aristocratical party, he served -them ably and faithfully with his sword, while he endeavored to mitigate -the evils of their ascendancy by restoring to the commons of Rome, on -the earliest opportunity, the most important of those privileges and -liberties which they had lost under the tyranny of their late master.</p> - -<p>He received the due reward of his honest patriotism in the unusual -honors and trusts that were conferred on him; but his greatness could -not corrupt his virtue; and the boundless powers with which he was -repeatedly invested he wielded with the highest ability and uprightness -to the accomplishment of his task, and then, without any undue attempts -to prolong their duration, he honestly resigned them. At a period of -general cruelty and extortion toward the enemies and subjects of the -commonwealth, the character of Pompey in his foreign commands was marked -by its humanity and spotless integrity.</p> - -<p>His conquest of the pirates was effected with wonderful rapidity, and -cemented by a merciful policy, which, instead of taking vengeance for -the past, accomplished the preven<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span>tion of evil for the future. His -presence in Asia, when he conducted the war with Mithridates, was no -less a relief to the provinces from the tyranny of their governors, than -it was their protection against the arms of the enemy. It is true that -wounded vanity led him, after his return from Asia, to unite himself for -a time with some unworthy associates; and this connection, as it -ultimately led to all his misfortunes, so did it immediately tempt him -to the worst faults of his political life, and involved him in a career -of difficulty, mortification, and shame.</p> - -<p>But after this disgraceful fall, he again returned to his natural -station, and was universally regarded as the fit protector of the laws -and liberties of his country when they were threatened by Cæsar’s -rebellion. In the conduct of the civil war he showed something of -weakness and vacillation; but his abilities, though considerable, were -far from being equal to those of his adversary. His inferiority was most -seen in that want of steadiness in the pursuit of his own plans which -caused him to abandon a system already sanctioned by success, and to -persuade himself that he might yield with propriety to the ill-judged -impatience of his followers for battle.</p> - -<p>His death is one of the few tragical events of those times which may be -regarded with unmixed compassion. It was not accompanied, like that of -Cato and Brutus, with the rashness and despair of suicide; nor can it be -regarded like that of Cæsar, as the punishment of crimes, unlawfully -inflicted, indeed, yet suffered deservedly. With a character of rare -purity and tenderness in his domestic relations, he was slaughtered -before the eyes of his wife and son; while flying from the ruin of a -most just cause he was murdered by those whose kindness he was entitled -to claim.</p> - -<p>His virtues have not been transmitted to posterity with their deserved -fame; and while the violent republican writers have exalted the memory -of Cato and Brutus; while<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span> the lovers of literature have extolled -Cicero; and the admirers of successful ability have lavished their -praises on Cæsar; Pompey’s many and rare merits have been forgotten in -the faults of his triumvirate, and in the weakness of temper which he -displayed in conduct of the last campaign.</p> - -<p>But he must have been in no ordinary degree good and amiable for whom -his countrymen professed their enthusiastic love, unrestrained by -servility and unimpelled by faction; and though the events of his life -must now be gathered for the most part from unfriendly sources, yet we -think that they who read them impartially will continually cherish his -memory with a warmer regard.</p> - -<h2><a name="SERTORIUS" id="SERTORIUS"></a>SERTORIUS.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By PLUTARCH.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Quintus Sertorius, a Roman general of Sabine extraction, born -about 121 <small>B.C.</small>, assassinated in Spain in 72. A prominent chief of -the Marian party, he fled to Spain and held possession of the -province against the dominant party at Rome for more than ten -years. He was the one leader among the adherents of Marius, as -Pompey was the one general among the followers of Sylla, who showed -moderation and the spirit of clemency. His greatness was chiefly -shown in his career in Spain. He displayed consummate generalship -and skill in holding all the armies of Rome at bay till he was -assassinated by one of his own officers.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sertorius</span> at last utterly despaired of Rome, and hastened into Spain, -that by taking possession there beforehand he might secure a refuge to -his friends from their misfortunes at home. He armed all the Romans who -lived in those countries that were of military age, and undertook the -building of ships and the making of all sorts of warlike engines, by -which means he kept the cities in due obedience, showing himself gentle -in all peaceful business,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span> and at the same time formidable to his -enemies by his great preparations for war.</p> - -<p>When Sertorius was called to Mauritania to assist the enemies of Prince -Ascalis, and had made himself absolute master of the whole country, he -acted with great fairness to those who had confided in him, and who -yielded to his mercy. He restored to them their property, cities, and -government, accepting only of such acknowledgments as they themselves -freely offered. While he considered which way next to turn his arms, the -Lusitanians sent ambassadors to desire him to be their general. For -being terrified with the Roman power, and finding the necessity of -having a commander of great authority and experience in war; being also -sufficiently assured of his worth and valor by those who formerly had -known him, they were desirous to commit themselves specially to his -care.</p> - -<p>In fact, Sertorius is said to have been of a temper unassailable either -by fear or pleasure, in adversity and dangers undaunted, and no ways -puffed up with prosperity. In straightforward fighting no commander of -his time was more bold and daring; and in whatever was to be performed -in war by stratagem, secrecy, or surprise, if any strong place was to be -secured, any pass to be gained speedily, for deceiving and overreaching -an enemy, there was no man equal to him in subtlety and skill.</p> - -<p>In bestowing rewards and conferring honors upon those who had performed -good service in the wars he was bountiful and magnificent, and was no -less sparing and moderate in inflicting punishment. The Lusitanians -having sent for Sertorius, he left Africa, and being made general, with -absolute authority, he put all in order among them, and brought the -neighboring parts of Spain into subjection. Most of the tribes -voluntarily submitted themselves, won by the fame of his clemency and of -his courage; and to some extent also, he availed himself of cunning -artifices of his own devising to impose on them, and gain influence over -them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span></p> - -<p>Among which certainly that of the hind was not the least. Spanus, a -countryman who lived in those parts, meeting by chance a hind that had -recently calved flying from the hunters, let the dam go, and pursuing -the fawn took it, being wonderfully pleased with the rarity of the -color, which was all milk white. At that time Sertorius was living in -the neighborhood, and accepted gladly any presents of fruits, fowl, or -venison that the country afforded, and rewarded liberally those who -presented them.</p> - -<p>The countryman brought him his young hind, which he took and was well -pleased with at first sight; but when in time he made it so tame and -gentle that it would come when he called, and follow him wherever he -went, and could endure the noise and tumult of the camp, knowing well -that uncivilized people are naturally prone to superstition, by little -and little he raised it to something supernatural, saying it was given -him by the goddess Diana, and that it revealed to him many secrets.</p> - -<p>If he had received private intelligence that the enemies had made an -incursion into any part of the district under his command, or had -solicited any city to revolt, he pretended that the hind had informed -him of it in his sleep, and charged him to keep his forces in readiness. -Or, again, if he had notice that any of the commanders under him had got -a victory, he would hide the messengers and bring forth the hind crowned -with flowers, for joy of the good news that was to come, and would -encourage them to rejoice and sacrifice to the gods for the good account -they should soon receive of their prosperous success.</p> - -<p>He was also highly honored for his introducing discipline and good order -among them, for he altered their furious mode of fighting, and brought -them to make use of Roman armor, taught them to keep their ranks, and -observe signals and watch-words; and out of a confused number of thieves -and robbers he constituted a well-disciplined army. That which delighted -them most, however, was the care he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span> took of their children. He sent for -all the boys of noblest parentage out of all their tribes, and placed -them in the great city of Osca, where he appointed masters to instruct -them in the Latin and Greek learning.</p> - -<p>His method of conducting the war against the Romans showed his military -skill and foresight. By rapidly assaulting them, by alarming them on all -sides, by ensnaring, circumventing, and laying ambushes for them, he cut -off all provisions by land, while with his piratical vessels he kept all -the coast in awe and hindered their supplies by sea. He thus forced the -Roman generals to dislodge and to separate from one another at the last; -Metellus departed into Gaul and Pompey wintered among the Vaccæans in a -wretched condition, where, being in extreme want of money, he wrote a -letter to the senate, to let them know that if they did not speedily -supply him he must draw off his army. To these extremities the chiefest -and most powerful commanders of the age were brought by the skill of -Sertorius; and it was the common opinion in Rome that he would be in -Italy before Pompey.</p> - -<p>Sertorius showed the loftiness of his temper in calling together all the -Roman senators who had fled from Rome and had come and resided with him, -giving them the name of a senate. Out of these he chose prætors and -quæstors, and adorned his government with all the Roman laws and -institutions, and though he made use of the arms, riches, and cities of -the Spaniards, yet he never would even in word remit to them the -imperial authority, but set Roman officers and commanders over them, -intimating his purpose to restore liberty to the Romans, not to raise up -the Spaniards’ power against them.</p> - -<p>He was a sincere lover of his country and had a great desire to return -home; but in his adverse fortune he showed undaunted courage, and -behaved himself toward his enemies in a manner free from all dejection -and mean spiritedness. In his prosperity and the height of his victories -he sent<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span> word to Metellus and Pompey that he was ready to lay down his -arms and lead a private life if he were allowed to return home, -declaring that he had rather live as the meanest citizen in Rome than, -exiled from it, be supreme commander of all other cities together.</p> - -<p>His negotiations with Mithridates further argue the greatness of his -mind. For when Mithridates, recovering himself from his overthrow by -Sylla—like a strong wrestler that gets up to try another fall—was -again endeavoring to re-establish his power in Asia, at this time the -great fame of Sertorius was celebrated in all places. Accordingly, -Mithridates sends messengers into Spain with letters and instructions -and commission to promise ships and money toward the charge of the war -if Sertorius would confirm his pretensions on Asia, and authorize him to -possess all that he had surrendered to the Romans in his treaty with -Sylla.</p> - -<p>Sertorius would by no means agree to it; declaring that King Mithridates -should exercise all royal power and authority over Bithynia and -Cappadocia—countries accustomed to a monarchical government and not -belonging to Rome—but that he could never consent that he should seize -or detain a province which, by the justest right and title, was -possessed by the Romans. For he looked upon it as his duty to enlarge -the Roman possessions by his conquering arms, and not to increase his -power by the diminution of Roman territories.</p> - -<p>When this was related to Mithridates he was struck with amazement, and -said to his intimate friends: “What will Sertorius enjoin on us to do -when he comes to be seated in the Palatium at Rome, who, at present, -when he is driven out to the borders of the Atlantic Sea, sets bounds to -our kingdoms in the East, and threatens us with war if we attempt the -recovery of Asia?”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_004" style="width: 446px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp049.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp049.jpg" width="446" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>JULIUS CÆSAR.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="JULIUS_CAESAR" id="JULIUS_CAESAR"></a>JULIUS CÆSAR.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[A Roman general and statesman and founder of the empire, though -its first ruler was Octavianus, his nephew and adopted son, who -mounted the throne under the name of Augustus Cæsar. Born 100 <small>B.C.</small>, -assassinated in the senate-house 44 <small>B.C.</small> By many historians and -critics Julius Cæsar is regarded as the greatest man who lived -before the Christian era.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> person Cæsar was tall and slight. His features were more refined than -was usual in Roman faces; the forehead was wide and high, the nose large -and thin, the lips full, the eyes dark gray, like an eagle’s, the neck -extremely thick and sinewy. His complexion was pale. His beard and -mustache were kept carefully shaved. His hair was short and naturally -scanty, falling off toward the end of his life, and leaving him -partially bald. His voice, especially when he spoke in public, was high -and shrill. His health was uniformly good, until his last year when he -became subject to epileptic fits.</p> - -<p>He was a great bather, and scrupulously neat in his habits, abstemious -in his food, and careless in what it consisted, rarely or never touching -wine, and noting sobriety as the highest of qualities in describing any -new people. He was an athlete in early life, admirable in all manly -exercises, and especially in riding. From his boyhood it was observed of -him that he was the truest of friends, that he avoided quarrels, and was -easily appeased when offended. In manner he was quiet and -gentleman-like, with the natural courtesy of high breeding.</p> - -<p>Like Cicero, Cæsar entered public life at the bar. It was by accident -that he took up the profession of the soldier; yet, perhaps, no -commander who ever lived showed greater military genius. The conquest of -Gaul was effected by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span> force numerically insignificant, which was -worked with the precision of a machine. The variety of uses to which it -was capable of being turned implied, in the first place, extraordinary -forethought in the selection of materials. Men whose nominal duty was -merely to fight were engineers, architects, and mechanics of the highest -order. In a few hours they could extemporize an impregnable fortress on -the highest hill-side. They bridged the Rhine in a week. They built a -fleet in a month.</p> - -<p>The legions at Alesia held twice their number pinned within their works, -while they kept at bay the whole force of insurgent Gaul by scientific -superiority. The machine, which was thus perfect, was composed of human -beings who required supplies of tools and arms and clothes and food and -shelter; and for all these it depended on the forethought of its -commander. Maps there were none. Countries entirely unknown had to be -surveyed; routes had to be laid out; the depths and courses of rivers, -the character of mountain-passes had all to be ascertained. Allies had -to be found in tribes as yet unheard of.</p> - -<p>He was rash, but with a calculated rashness which the event never failed -to justify. His greatest successes were due to the rapidity of his -movements, which brought him to the enemy before they heard of his -approach. No obstacles stopped him when he had a definite end in view. -Again and again by his own efforts he recovered a day that was half -lost. He once seized a panic-stricken standard-bearer, turned him -around, and told him that he had mistaken the direction of the enemy.</p> - -<p>Yet he was singularly careful of his soldiers. He rarely fought a battle -at a disadvantage. When a gallant action was performed, he knew by whom -it had been done, and every soldier, however humble, might feel assured -that if he deserved praise he would have it. The army was Cæsar’s -family. In discipline, he was lenient to ordinary faults, and not -careful to make curious inquiries into such things. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span> liked his men to -enjoy themselves. Military mistakes in his officers he always endeavored -to excuse, never blaming them for misfortunes unless there had been a -defect of courage as well as of judgment.</p> - -<p>Cicero has said of Cæsar’s oratory that he surpassed those who had -practiced no other art. His praise of him as a man of letters is yet -more delicately and gracefully emphatic. Most of his writings are lost; -but there remain seven books of commentaries on the wars in Gaul (the -eighth was added by another hand) and three books on the civil war, -containing an account of its causes and history. Of these it was that -Cicero said, in an admirable image, that fools might think to improve on -them, but that no wise man would try it; they were bare of ornament, the -dress of style dispensed with, like an undraped human figure in all its -lines as nature made it. In his composition, as in his actions, Cæsar is -entirely simple. He indulges in no images, no labored descriptions, no -conventional reflections. His art is unconscious, as the highest art -always is.</p> - -<p>Of Cæsar it may be said that he came into the world at a special time -and for a special object. The old religions were dead from the Pillars -of Hercules to the Euphrates and the Nile, and the principles on which -human society had been constructed were dead also. There remained of -spiritual conviction only the common and human sense of justice and -morality; and out of this sense some ordered system of government had to -be constructed, under which quiet men could live and labor and eat the -fruit of their industry. Under a rule of this material kind there can be -no enthusiasm, no chivalry, no saintly aspirations, no patriotism of the -heroic type. It was not to last forever. A new life was about to dawn -for mankind.</p> - -<p>Poetry and faith and devotion were to spring again out of the seeds -which were sleeping in the heart of humanity. But the life which is to -endure grows slowly; and as the soil must be prepared before the wheat -can be sown, so be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span>fore the Kingdom of Heaven could throw up its shoots, -there was needed a kingdom of this world where the nations were neither -torn in pieces by violence, nor were rushing after false ideals and -spurious ambitions. Such a kingdom was the empire of the Cæsars, a -kingdom where peaceful men could work, think, and speak as they pleased, -and travel freely among provinces ruled for the most part by Gallios<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> -who protected life and property, and forbade fanatics to tear each other -to pieces for their religious opinions.</p> - -<p>“It is not lawful for us to put any man to death,” was the complaint of -the Jewish priests to the Roman governor. Had Europe and Asia been -covered with independent nations, each with a local religion represented -in its ruling powers, Christianity must have been stifled in its cradle. -If St. Paul had escaped the Sanhedrim at Jerusalem, he would have been -torn to death by the silversmiths at Ephesus. The appeal to Cæsar’s -judgment-seat was the shield of his mission, and alone made possible his -success.</p> - -<p>And this spirit which confined government to its simple duties, while it -left opinion unfettered, was specially present in Julius Cæsar himself. -From cant of all kinds he was totally free. He was a friend of the -people, but indulged in no enthusiasm for liberty. He never dilated on -the beauties of virtue, or complimented, as Cicero did, a Providence in -which he did not believe. He was too sincere to stoop to unreality. He -held to the facts of this life and to his own convictions; and as he -found no reason for supposing that there was a life beyond the grave, he -did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span> pretend to expect it. He respected the religion of the Roman -state as an institution established by the laws.</p> - -<p>He encouraged or left unmolested the creeds and practices of the -uncounted sects and tribes who were gathered under the eagles. But his -own writings contain nothing to indicate that he himself had any -religious belief at all. He saw no evidence that the gods practically -interfered in human affairs. He never pretended that Jupiter was on his -side. He thanked his soldiers after a victory, but he did not order <i>Te -Deums</i> to be sung for it; and in the absence of these conventionalisms -he perhaps showed more real reverence than he could have displayed by -the freest use of the formulas of piety. He fought his battles to -establish some tolerable degree of justice in the government of this -world; and he succeeded though he was murdered for doing it.</p> - -<h2><a name="TRAJAN" id="TRAJAN"></a>TRAJAN.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By CHARLES MERIVALE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[M. Ulpius Trajanus, successor as Roman emperor to Nerva, born <small>A.D.</small> -53, ascended the throne 99; died 118. One of the most illustrious -among those who wore the Roman purple, his reign was distinguished -as much by happiness and prosperity as by lofty virtues. As a -soldier, Trajan subdued the Dacians, completed the conquest of -Germany and Sarmatia, annexed Armenia to the empire, and subdued -the Parthians to the Roman yoke. His civic administration was no -less notable than his military conquests and organization.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> princely prodigality of Trajan’s taste was defrayed by the plunder -or the tribute of conquered enemies, and seems to have laid at least no -extraordinary burden on his subjects. His rage for building had the -further merit of being directed for the most part to works of public -utility and interest. He built for the gods, the senate, and the people, -and not for himself; he restored the palaces, en<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span>larged the halls and -places of public resort; but he was content himself with the palaces of -his predecessors. A writer three centuries later declares of Trajan that -he built the world over; and the wide diffusion and long continuance of -his fame beyond that of so many others of the imperial series may be -partly attributed to the constant recurrence of his name conspicuously -inscribed on the most solid and best known monuments of the empire.</p> - -<p>The care of this wise and liberal ruler extended from the harbors, -aqueducts, and bridges to the general repair of the highways of the -empire. He was the great improver, though not the inventor of the system -of posts on the chief roads, which formed a striking feature of Roman -civilization as an instrument for combining the remotest provinces under -a central organization.</p> - -<p>The legislation of this popular emperor is marked generally by a special -consideration for Italian interests. The measures by which he secured a -constant supply of grain from the provinces, exempting its exportation -from all duties, and stimulating the growers at one extremity of the -empire to relieve the deficiencies of another, were directed to the -maintenance of abundance in Rome and Italy. Thus, on the casual failure -of the harvest in Egypt, her empty granaries were at once replenished -from the superfluous stores of Gaul, Spain, or Africa.</p> - -<p>Though Trajan’s mind did not rise to wide and liberal views for the -advantages of the provinces, he neglected no favorable opportunity for -the benefit of particular localities. His hand was open to bestow -endowments and largesses, to relieve public calamities, to increase -public enjoyments, to repair the ravages of earthquakes and tempests, to -construct roads and canals, theatres and aqueducts. The activity -displayed through the empire in works of this unproductive nature shows -a great command of money, an abundant currency, easy means of -transacting business, ample resources of labor, and well devised schemes -of combining and unfold<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span>ing them. Judicious economy went ever hand in -hand with genuine magnificence.</p> - -<p>The monuments of Roman jurisprudence contain many examples of Trajan’s -legislation. Like the great statesmen of the republic, he returned from -the camp to the city to take his seat daily on the tribunals with the -ablest judges for his assessors. He heard appeals from the highest -courts throughout his dominion, and the final sentence he pronounced -assumed the validity of a legal enactment. The clemency of Trajan was as -conspicuous as his love of justice, and to him is ascribed the noble -sentiment, that it is better that the guilty should escape than the -innocent suffer.</p> - -<p>The justice, the modesty, the unwearied application of Trajan were -deservedly celebrated, no less than his valor in war and his conduct in -political affairs. But a great part of his amazing popularity was owing, -no doubt, to his genial demeanor and to the affection inspired by his -qualities as a friend and associate. The remains still existing of his -correspondence in the letters of Pliny bring out not only the manners of -the time, but in some degree the character of the prince also; and bear -ample testimony to his minute vigilance and unwearied application, his -anxiety for his subjects’ well-being, the ease with which he conducted -his intercourse with his friends, and the ease with which he inspired -them in return.</p> - -<p>Trajan’s letters bespeak the polished gentleman no less than the -statesman. He was fond of society, and of educated and literary society. -He was proud of being known to associate with the learned, and felt -himself complimented when he bestowed on the rhetorician Dion the -compliment of carrying him in his own chariot. That such refinement of -taste was not incompatible with excess in the indulgences of the table -was the fault of the times, and more particularly of the habits of camp -life to which he had been accustomed. Intemperance was always a Roman -vice.</p> - -<p>The affability of the prince, and the freedom with which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span> he exchanged -with his nobles all the offices of ordinary courtesy and hospitality, -bathing, supping, or hunting as an equal in their company, constituted -one of his greatest charms in the eyes of a jealous patriciate which had -seen its masters too often engrossed by the flatteries of freedmen and -still viler associates.</p> - -<p>But Trajan enjoyed also the distinction dear in Roman eyes of a fine -figure and a noble countenance. In stature he exceeded the common -height, and on public occasions, when he loved to walk bareheaded in the -midst of the senators, his gray hairs gleamed conspicuously above the -crowd. His features, as we may trace them unmistakably on his -innumerable busts and medals, were regular; and his face was the last of -the imperial series that retained the true Roman type—not in the -aquiline nose only, but in the broad and low forehead, the angular chin, -the firm, compressed lips, and generally in the stern compactness of its -structure.</p> - -<p>The thick and straight-cut hair, smoothed over the brow without a curl -or parting, marks the simplicity of the man’s character in a voluptuous -age which delighted in the culture of flowing or frizzed locks. But the -most interesting characteristic of the figure I have so vividly before -me is the look of painful thought, which seems to indicate a constant -sense of overwhelming responsibilities, honorably and bravely borne, -yet, notwithstanding much assumed cheerfulness and self-abandonment, -ever irritating the nerves and weighing upon the conscience.</p> - -<h2><a name="THE_ANTONINES" id="THE_ANTONINES"></a>THE ANTONINES.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Titus Antoninus Pius, born 86 <small>A.D.</small>, mounted the throne 138, died -161; Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, adopted son and successor of the -preceding, born 121 <small>A.D.</small>, mounted the throne 161, died 180. The -first of the Antonines was born of a respectable family, settled in -Gaul, became pro-consul of Asia under Hadrian, afterward of a -division<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span> of Italy, and was selected by Hadrian as his successor on -account of his ability and virtues. Marcus Aurelius was -distinguished not only as general and administrator, as a ruler of -the most exemplary and noble character, but his name has descended -to modern ages as that of the royal philosopher. His “Meditations” -constitute one of the Roman classics.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Under</span> Hadrian’s reign the empire flourished in peace and prosperity. He -encouraged the arts, reformed the laws, assisted military discipline, -and visited all his provinces in person. His vast and active genius was -equally suited to the most enlarged views and the minute details of -civil policy. But the ruling passions of his soul were curiosity and -vanity. As they prevailed and as they were attracted by different -objects, Hadrian was by turns an excellent prince, a ridiculous sophist, -and a jealous tyrant. The general tenor of his conduct deserved praise -for its equity and moderation. Yet in the first days of his reign he put -to death four consular senators, his personal enemies, and men who had -been deemed worthy of empire; and the tediousness of a painful illness -at last made him peevish and cruel.</p> - -<p>The senate doubted whether they should pronounce him a god or a tyrant, -and the honors decreed to his memory were granted to the prayers of the -pious Antonines. The caprice of Hadrian influenced his choice of a -successor. After revolving in his mind several men of distinguished -merit whom he esteemed and hated, he adopted Ælius Verus, a gay and -voluptuous nobleman, recommended by uncommon beauty. But while Hadrian -was delighting himself with his own applause and the acclamations of the -soldiers, whose consent had been secured by an immense donative, the new -Cæsar was reft from imperial friendship by an untimely death.</p> - -<p>He left only one son. Hadrian recommended the boy to the gratitude of -the Antonines. He was adopted by Pius, and on the accession of Marcus -was invested with an equal share of sovereign power. Among the many -vices of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span> this younger Verus, he possessed one virtue—a dutiful -reverence for his wiser colleague, to whom he willingly abandoned the -ruder cares of empire. The philosophic emperor dissembled his follies, -lamented his early death, and cast a decent veil over his memory.</p> - -<p>As soon as Hadrian’s caprice in friendship had been gratified or -disappointed, he resolved to deserve the thanks of posterity by placing -the most exalted merit on the Roman throne. His discerning eye easily -discovered a senator about fifty years of age, blameless in all the -offices of life, and a youth about seventeen, whose riper years opened -the fair prospect of every virtue. The elder of these was declared the -son and successor of Hadrian, on condition, however, that he himself -should immediately adopt the younger. The two Antonines (for it is of -them we are now speaking) governed the Roman world forty-two years with -the same invariable spirit of wisdom and virtue.</p> - -<p>Although Pius had two sons, he preferred the welfare of Rome to the -interests of his family; gave his daughter Faustina in marriage to young -Marcus, obtained from the senate the tribunitial and consular powers and -pro-consular powers, and with a noble disdain, or rather ignorance of -jealousy, associated him to all the labors of government.</p> - -<p>Marcus, on the other hand, revered the character of his benefactor, -loved him as a parent, obeyed him as his sovereign, and, after he was no -more, regulated his own administration by the example and maxims of his -predecessor. Their united reigns are possibly the only period in history -in which the happiness of a great people was the sole object of -government.</p> - -<p>Titus Antoninus Pius has been justly denominated a second Numa. The same -love of religion, justice, and peace was the distinguishing -characteristic of both princes. But the situation of the latter opened a -much larger field for the exercise of these virtues. Numa could only -prevent a few neighboring villages from plundering each other’s -harvests.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span> Antoninus diffused order and tranquillity over the greater -part of the earth. His reign is marked by the rare advantage of -furnishing very few materials for history; which is, indeed, little more -than the register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind.</p> - -<p>In private life he was an amiable as well as a good man. The native -simplicity of his virtue was a stranger to vanity or affectation. He -enjoyed with moderation the conveniences of his fortune and the innocent -pleasures of society; and the benevolence of his soul displayed itself -in a cheerful serenity of temper.</p> - -<p>The virtue of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus was of a severer and more -laborious kind. It was the well-earned harvest of many a learned -conference, of many a patient lecture, and many a midnight lucubration. -At the age of twelve years he embraced the rigid doctrines of the -Stoics, which taught him to submit his body to his mind, his passions to -his reason; to consider virtue as the only good, vice as the only evil, -all things external as things indifferent. His “Meditations,” composed -in the tumult of a camp, are still extant; and he even condescended to -give lessons on philosophy in a more public manner than was perhaps -consistent with the modesty of a sage or the dignity of an emperor. But -his life was the noblest commentary on the philosophy of Zeno.</p> - -<p>He was severe to himself, indulgent to the imperfections of others, just -and beneficent to all mankind. He regretted that the death of Ovidius -Cassius, who excited a rebellion in Syria, had disappointed him, by a -voluntary death, of the pleasure of converting an enemy into a friend; -and he justified the sincerity of that statement by moderating the zeal -of the senate against the adherents of the traitor.</p> - -<p>War he detested as the disgrace and calamity of human nature; but when -the necessity of a just defense called on him to take up arms, he -readily exposed his person to eight winter campaigns on the frozen banks -of the Danube, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span> severity of which was at last fatal to the weakness -of his constitution. His memory was revered by a grateful posterity, and -above a century after his death, many persons preserved the image of -Marcus Antoninus among those of their household gods.</p> - -<p>If a man were called on to fix the period in the history of the world -during which the condition of the human race was most happy and -prosperous he would, without hesitation, name that which elapsed from -the death of Domitian to the accession of Commodus. The vast extent of -the Roman Empire was governed by absolute power under the guidance of -virtue and wisdom. The armies were restrained by the firm but gentle -hand of five successive emperors, whose characters and authority -commanded universal respect.</p> - -<p>The forms of the civil administration were carefully preserved by Nerva, -Trajan, Hadrian, and the Antonines, who delighted in the image of -liberty, and were pleased with considering themselves as the accountable -ministers of the laws. Such princes deserved the honor of restoring the -republic had the Romans of their days been capable of enjoying a -rational freedom. The labors of these monarchs were overpaid by the -immense reward that inseparably waited on their success, by the honest -pride of virtue, and by the exquisite delight of beholding the general -happiness of which they were the authors.</p> - -<h2><a name="ZENOBIA_QUEEN_OF_PALMYRA" id="ZENOBIA_QUEEN_OF_PALMYRA"></a>ZENOBIA, QUEEN OF PALMYRA.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Septimia Zenobia, of mixed Greek and Arab descent, dates of birth -and death doubtful. Twice married, she reached through her second -husband, Odenathus, Prince of Palmyra, a field for the exercise of -her great talents. She aspired to be Empress of Western Asia after -her husband’s death, and only succumbed to the superior genius or -for<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span>tune of Aurelian, the Roman Emperor. The unsuccessful issue of -two pitched battles and two sieges placed her in the power of Rome -(273 <small>A.D.</small>). The clemency of the victor, though it made the captive -an ornament of his triumph, loaded her with wealth and kindness, -while it relegated her to a private station.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Modern</span> Europe has produced several illustrious women who have sustained -with glory the weight of empire; nor is our own age destitute of such -distinguished characters. But if we except the doubtful achievements of -Semiramis, Zenobia is perhaps the only female whose superior genius -broke through the servile indolence imposed on her sex by the habits and -climate of Asia. She claimed her descent from the Macedonian kings of -Egypt, equaled in beauty her ancestor Cleopatra, and far surpassed that -princess in chastity and valor.</p> - -<p>Zenobia was esteemed the most lovely as well as the most heroic of her -sex. She was of a dark complexion (for in speaking of a lady these -trifles become important); her teeth were of a pearly whiteness; and her -large black eyes sparkled with uncommon fire tempered by the most -attractive sweetness. Her voice was strong and harmonious. Her manly -understanding was strengthened and adorned by study. She was not -ignorant of the Latin tongue, but possessed in equal perfection the -Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. She had drawn up for her -own use an epitome of Oriental history, and familiarly compared the -beauties of Homer and Plato under the tuition of the sublime Longinus. -This accomplished woman gave her hand to Odenathus, who from a private -station raised himself to the dominion of the East. She soon became the -friend and companion of a hero. In the intervals of war Odenathus -passionately delighted in the exercise of hunting. He pursued with ardor -the wild beasts of the desert—lions, panthers, and bears—and the ardor -of Zenobia in that dangerous amusement was not inferior to his own. She -had inured her constitution to fatigue, disdained the use of a covered<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span> -carriage, generally appeared on horseback in a military habit, and -sometimes marched several miles on foot at the head of the troops.</p> - -<p>The success of Odenathus was in great measure ascribed to her -incomparable prudence and fortitude. Their splendid victories over the -Great King, whom they twice pursued as far as the gates of Ctesiphon, -laid the foundation of their united fame and power. The armies which -they commanded and the provinces which they had saved acknowledged not -any other sovereigns than their invincible chiefs. The senate and people -of Rome revered a stranger who had avenged their captive emperor, and -even the insensible son of Valerian accepted Odenathus for his -legitimate colleague.</p> - -<p>After a successful expedition against the Gothic plunderers of Asia the -Palmyrenian prince returned to the city of Emesa in Syria. Invincible in -war, he was there cut off by domestic treason, and his favorite -amusement of hunting was the cause, or at least the occasion, of his -death. His nephew Mæonius presumed to dart his javelin before that of -his uncle; and, though admonished of his error, repeated his insolence. -As a monarch and as a sportsman Odenathus was provoked, took away his -horse—a mark of ignominy among barbarians—and chastised his rash youth -by a short confinement. The offense was soon forgot, but the punishment -was remembered; and Mæonius, with a few daring associates, assassinated -his uncle in the midst of a great entertainment. Herod, the son of -Odenathus, though not of Zenobia, a young man of soft and effeminate -temper, was killed with his father. But Mæonius obtained only the -pleasures of revenge by this bloody deed. He had scarcely time to assume -the title of Augustus before he was sacrificed by Zenobia to the memory -of her husband. With the assistance of his most faithful friends she -immediately filled the vacant throne and governed with manly counsels -Palmyra, Syria, and the East above five years. By the death of -Odenathus, that authority was at an end which the senate had<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span> granted -him only as a personal distinction; but his widow, disdaining both the -senate and Gallienus, obliged one of the Roman generals who was sent -against her to retreat into Europe with the loss of his army and his -reputation.</p> - -<p>Instead of the little passions which so frequently perplex a female -reign, the administration of Zenobia was guided by the most judicious -maxims of policy. If it was expedient to pardon, she could calm her -resentment; if it were necessary to punish, she could impose silence on -the voice of pity. Her strict economy was accused of avarice; yet on -every proper occasion she appeared magnificent and liberal. The -neighboring states of Arabia, Armenia, and Persia dreaded her enmity and -solicited her alliance. To the dominions of Odenathus, which extended -from the Euphrates to the frontiers of Bithynia, his widow added the -inheritance of her ancestors, the populous and fertile kingdom of Egypt. -The Emperor Claudius acknowledged her merit, and was content that while -<i>he</i> pursued the Gothic war, <i>she</i> should pursue the dignity of the -empire in the East. The conduct, however, of Zenobia was attended with -some ambiguity; nor is it unlikely that she had conceived the design of -erecting an independent and hostile monarchy. She blended with the -popular manners of Roman princes the stately pomp of the courts of Asia, -and exacted from her subjects the same adoration that was paid to the -successors of Cyrus. She bestowed on her three sons a Latin education, -and often showed them to the troops adorned with the imperial purple. -For herself she reserved the diadem with the splendid but doubtful title -of Queen of the East.</p> - -<p>When Aurelian passed over into Asia, against an adversary whose sex -alone could render her an object of contempt, his presence restored -obedience to the province of Bithynia, already shaken by the arts and -the arms of Zenobia. Advancing at the head of his legions, he accepted -the submission of Ancyra, and was admitted into Tyana after an obstinate -siege, by the help of a perfidious citizen. Zenobia<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span> would have ill -deserved her reputation had she indolently permitted the Emperor of the -West to approach within a hundred miles of her capital. The fate of the -East was decided in two great battles, so similar in almost every -circumstance that we can scarcely distinguish them from each other, -except by observing that the first was fought near Antioch and the -second near Emesa. After the defeat of Emesa Zenobia found it impossible -to collect a third army. Palmyra was the last resource of the widow of -Odenathus. She retired within the walls of her capital, made every -preparation for a vigorous resistance, and declared with the intrepidity -of a heroine that the last moment of her reign and of her life should be -the same. The siege of Palmyra was an object far more difficult and -important; and the emperor, who with incessant vigor pressed the attacks -in person, was himself wounded with a dart. “The Roman people,” says -Aurelian in an original letter, “speak with contempt of the war which I -am waging against a woman. They are ignorant both of the character and -power of Zenobia. It is impossible to enumerate her warlike preparations -of stones, of arrows, and of every species of missile weapons. Every -part of the walls is provided with two or three <i>balistæ</i>, and -artificial fires are thrown from her military engines. The fear of -punishment has armed her with a desperate courage. Yet still I trust in -the protecting deities of Rome, who have hitherto been favorable to all -my undertakings.” The firmness of Zenobia was supported by the hope that -in a very short time famine would compel the Roman army to repass the -desert. But from every part of Syria a regular succession of convoys -safely arrived in the camp, which was increased by the return of Probus -with his victorious troops from the conquest of Egypt. It was then that -Zenobia resolved to fly. She mounted the fleetest of her dromedaries, -and had already reached the banks of the Euphrates, about sixty miles -from Palmyra, when she was overtaken by the pursuit of Aurelian’s -light-horse, seized, and brought back<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span> a captive to the feet of the -emperor. Her capital soon afterward surrendered, and was treated with -unexpected lenity.</p> - -<p>When the Syrian queen was brought into the presence of Aurelian he -sternly asked her how she had presumed to rise in arms against the -Emperor of Rome? The answer of Zenobia was a prudent mixture of respect -and firmness: “Because I disdained to consider as Roman emperors an -Aureolus or a Gallienus. You alone I acknowledge as my conqueror and -sovereign.”</p> - -<p>However, in the treatment of his unfortunate rivals, Aurelian might -indulge his pride, he behaved toward them with a generous clemency which -was seldom exercised by the ancient conquerors. The emperor presented -Zenobia with an elegant villa at Tibur, or Tivoli, about twenty miles -from the capital. The Syrian queen insensibly sunk into a Roman matron, -her daughters married into noble families, and her race was not yet -extinct in the fifth century.</p> - -<h2><a name="CONSTANTINE_THE_FIRST_CHRISTIAN_EMPEROR" id="CONSTANTINE_THE_FIRST_CHRISTIAN_EMPEROR"></a>CONSTANTINE, THE FIRST CHRISTIAN EMPEROR.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Caius Flavius Valerius Aurelius Claudius, surnamed “the Great,” -born 272 <small>A.D.</small>, died 337. He was the son of Constantine Chlorus, who -was appointed <i>Cæsar</i>, or lieutenant-emperor of the western part of -the empire which was divided between the two <i>Augusti</i>, or -emperors, Diocletian and Maximian. Constantine assumed the purple -of empire by acclamation of his legions while commanding in Britain -in 306. While leading his army to Rome to take possession of the -capital, the legend relates that Constantine saw a blazing cross in -the sky inscribed with [Greek: hen tohutph nhika], “In this -conquer.” Thenceforward the Christian symbol was inscribed on the -standards and shields of the army, and Christianity became -recognized as the state Church, though Constantine did not profess -the religion till his deathbed. In the year 323 he took the field -against his brother-in-law Licinius, Emperor of the East, and by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span> -the defeat and execution of the latter he became sole ruler of the -reunited empire. Among the most important events of his reign were -the founding of the new capital of Constantinople (330) on the site -of Byzantium, and the first great general Christian council (325), -held at Nice, in Asia Minor. By the decision of the latter the -Athanasian Creed, embodying the doctrine of the Trinity, was made -the orthodox belief of the Church, and Arianism was condemned as -heresy. The character of Constantine was stained by suspicion and -cruelty, to which his father-in-law, his brother-in-law, his son, -and his wife successively fell victims.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> character of the prince who removed the seat of empire and -introduced such important changes into the civil and religious -constitution of his country has fixed the attention and divided the -opinions of mankind. By the grateful zeal of the Christians, the -deliverer of the Church has been decorated with every attribute of a -hero, and even of a saint; while the discontent of the vanquished party -has compared Constantine to the most abhorred of those tyrants who, by -their vice and weakness, dishonored the imperial purple. The same -passions have in some degree been perpetuated to succeeding generations, -and the character of Constantine is considered, even in the present age, -as an object either of satire or of panegyric. By the impartial union of -those defects which are confessed by his warmest admirers and of those -virtues which are acknowledged by his most implacable enemies we might -hope to delineate a just portrait of that extraordinary man which the -truth and candor of history should adopt without a blush. But it would -soon appear that the vain attempt to blend such discordant colors and to -reconcile such inconsistent qualities must produce a figure monstrous -rather than human, unless it is viewed in its proper and distinct -lights, by a careful separation of the different periods of the reign of -Constantine.</p> - -<p>The person as well as the mind of Constantine had been enriched by -Nature with her choicest endowments. His stature was lofty, his -countenance majestic, his deportment<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span> graceful; his strength and -activity were displayed in every manly exercise, and from his earliest -youth to a very advanced season of life he preserved the vigor of his -constitution by a strict adherence to the domestic virtues of chastity -and temperance. He delighted in the social intercourse of familiar -conversation; and though he might sometimes indulge his disposition to -raillery with less reserve than was required by the severe dignity of -his station, the courtesy and liberality of his manners gained the -hearts of all who approached him. The sincerity of his friendship has -been suspected; yet he showed on some occasions that he was not -incapable of a warm and lasting attachment. The disadvantage of an -illiterate education had not prevented him from forming a just estimate -of the value of learning, and the arts and sciences derived some -encouragement from the munificent protection of Constantine. In the -dispatch of business, his diligence was indefatigable; and the active -powers of his mind were almost continually exercised in reading, -writing, or meditating, in giving audience to ambassadors, and in -examining the complaints of his subjects. Even those who censured the -propriety of his measures were compelled to acknowledge that he -possessed magnanimity to conceive and patience to execute the most -arduous designs without being checked either by the prejudices of -education or by the clamors of the multitude. In the field he infused -his own intrepid spirit into the troops, whom he conducted with the -talents of a consummate general; and to his abilities, rather than to -his fortune, we may ascribe the signal victories which he obtained over -the foreign and domestic foes of the republic. He loved glory as the -reward, perhaps as the motive of his labors.</p> - -<p>The boundless ambition which, from the moment of his accepting the -purple at York, appears as the ruling passion of his soul, may be -justified by the dangers of his own situation, by the character of his -rivals, by the consciousness of superior merit, and by the prospect that -his success would<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span> enable him to restore peace and order to the -distracted empire. In his civil wars against Maxentius and Licinius, he -had engaged on his side the inclinations of the people, who compared the -undissembled vices of those tyrants with the spirit of wisdom and -justice which seemed to direct the general tenor of the administration -of Constantine.</p> - -<p>Had Constantine fallen on the banks of the Tiber, or even in the plains -of Adrianople, such is the character which, with a few exceptions, he -might have transmitted to posterity. But the conclusion of his reign -(according to the moderate and indeed tender sentence of a writer of the -same age) degraded him from the rank which he had acquired among the -most deserving of the Roman princes. In the life of Augustus, we behold -the tyrant of the republic converted almost by imperceptible degrees -into the father of his country and of human kind. In that of -Constantine, we may contemplate a hero who had so long inspired his -subjects with love and his enemies with terror degenerating into a cruel -and dissolute monarch, corrupted by his fortune or raised by conquest -above the necessity of dissimulation. The general peace which he -maintained during the last fourteen years (<small>A.D.</small> 323-337) of his reign -was a period of apparent splendor rather than of real prosperity; and -the old age of Constantine was disgraced by the opposite yet -reconcilable vices of rapaciousness and prodigality. The accumulated -treasures found in the palaces of Maxentius and Licinius were lavishly -consumed; the various innovations introduced by the conqueror were -attended with an increasing expense; the cost of his buildings, his -court, and his festivals, required an immediate and plentiful supply; -and the oppression of the people was the only fund which could support -the magnificence of the sovereign.</p> - -<p>His unworthy favorites, enriched by the boundless liberality of their -master, usurped with impunity the privilege of rapine and corruption. A -secret but universal decay was felt in every part of the public -administration, and the em<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span>peror himself, though he still retained the -obedience, gradually lost the esteem of his subjects. The dress and -manners which, toward the decline of life, he chose to affect, served -only to degrade him in the eyes of mankind. The Asiatic pomp, which had -been adopted by the pride of Diocletian, assumed an air of softness and -effeminacy in the person of Constantine. He is represented with false -hair of various colors laboriously arranged by the skillful artists of -the times, a diadem of a new and more expensive fashion, a profusion of -gems and pearls, of collars and bracelets, and a variegated flowing robe -of silk, most curiously embroidered with flowers of gold. In such -apparel, scarcely to be excused by the youth and folly of Elagabalus, we -are at a loss to discover the wisdom of an aged monarch and the -simplicity of a Roman veteran. A mind thus relaxed by prosperity and -indulgence was incapable of rising to that magnanimity which disdains -suspicion and dares to forgive. The deaths of Maximian and Licinius may, -perhaps, be justified by the maxims of policy, as they are taught in the -schools of tyrants; but an impartial narrative of the executions, or -rather murders, which sullied the declining age of Constantine will -suggest to our most candid thoughts the idea of a prince who could -sacrifice without reluctance the laws of justice and the feelings of -nature to the dictates either of his passions or of his interest.</p> - -<p>The same fortune which so invariably followed the standard of -Constantine seemed to secure the hopes and comforts of his domestic -life. Those among his predecessors who had enjoyed the longest and most -prosperous reigns—Augustus, Trajan, and Diocletian—had been -disappointed of posterity; and the frequent revolutions had never -allowed sufficient time for any imperial family to grow up and multiply -under the shade of the purple. But the royalty of the Flavian line, -which had been first ennobled by the Gothic Claudius, descended through -several generations; and Constantine himself derived from his royal -father the hereditary<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span> honors which he transmitted to his children. -Besides the females and the allies of the Flavian house, ten or twelve -males, to whom the language of modern courts would apply the title of -princes of the blood, seemed, according to the order of their birth, to -be destined either to inherit or to support the throne of Constantine. -But in less than thirty years this numerous and increasing family was -reduced to the persons of Constantius and Julian, who alone had survived -a series of crimes and calamities such as the tragic poets have deplored -in the devoted lines of Pelops and of Cadmus.</p> - -<h2><a name="JULIAN_THE_APOSTATE" id="JULIAN_THE_APOSTATE"></a>JULIAN THE APOSTATE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Flavius Claudius Julianus, born 331 <small>A.D.</small>, died 363. He was the -nephew of Constantine, and was made <i>Cæsar</i> by his cousin the -Emperor Constantius in 355. On the death of the latter, Julian -became sole emperor in 361. Though bred in the Christian faith, his -deep sympathy with the philosophy and letters of Greece, and his -aversion to the factional bigotry of the Christian sects, caused -him, on assuming the purple, to discard the doctrines of Christ, -and attempt the restitution of paganism.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> retired scholastic education of Julian, in which he had been more -conversant with books than with arms, with the dead than with the -living, left him in profound ignorance of the practical arts of war and -government; and when he awkwardly repeated some military exercise which -it was necessary for him to learn, he exclaimed, with a sigh, “Oh Plato, -Plato, what a task for a philosopher!” Yet even this speculative -philosophy, which men of business are too apt to despise, had filled the -mind of Julian with the noblest precepts and the most shining examples; -had animated him with the love of virtue, the desire of fame, and the -contempt of death. The habits of temperance recom<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span>mended in the schools -are still more essential in the severe discipline of a camp. The simple -wants of nature regulated the measure of his food and sleep. Rejecting -with disdain the delicacies provided for his table, he satisfied his -appetite with the coarse and common fare which was allotted to the -meanest soldiers. During the rigor of a Gallic winter he never suffered -a fire in his bed-chamber; and after a short and interrupted slumber, he -frequently rose in the middle of the night from a carpet spread on the -floor, to dispatch any urgent business, to visit his rounds, or to steal -a few moments for the prosecution of his favorite studies.</p> - -<p>The precepts of eloquence, which he had hitherto practiced on fancied -topics of declamation, were more usefully applied to excite or assuage -the passions of an armed multitude; and though Julian, from his early -habits of conversation and literature, was more familiarly acquainted -with the beauties of the Greek language, he had attained a competent -knowledge of the Latin tongue. Since Julian was not originally designed -for the character of a legislator or a judge, it is probable that the -civil jurisprudence of the Romans had not engaged any considerable share -of his attention; but he derived from his philosophic studies an -inflexible regard for justice, tempered by a disposition to clemency; -the knowledge of the general principles of equity and evidence; and the -faculty of patiently investigating the most intricate and tedious -questions which could be proposed for his discussion. The measures of -policy and the operations of war must submit to the various accidents of -circumstance and character, and the unpracticed student will often be -perplexed in the application of the most perfect theory. But, in the -acquisition of this important science, Julian was assisted by the active -vigor of his own genius, as well as by the wisdom and experience of -Sallust, an officer of rank, who soon conceived a sincere attachment for -a prince so worthy of his friendship; and whose incorruptible integrity -was adorned by the talent of insinuating<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span> the harshest truths, without -wounding the delicacy of a royal ear.</p> - -<p>Julian was not insensible of the advantages of freedom. From his studies -he had imbibed the spirit of ancient sages and heroes; his life and -fortunes had depended on the caprice of a tyrant, and when he ascended -the throne his pride was sometimes mortified by the reflection that the -slaves who would not dare to censure his defects were not worthy to -applaud his virtues. He sincerely abhorred the system of Oriental -despotism which Diocletian, Constantine, and the patient habits of -fourscore years had established in the empire. A motive of superstition -prevented the execution of the design which Julian had frequently -meditated, of relieving his head from the weight of a costly diadem; but -he absolutely refused the title of <i>Dominus</i>, or <i>Lord</i>—a word which -was grown so familiar to the ears of the Romans that they no longer -remembered its servile and humiliating origin. The office, or rather the -name, of consul was cherished by a prince who contemplated with -reverence the ruins of the republic; and the same behavior which had -been assumed by the prudence of Augustus was adopted by Julian from -choice and inclination. On the calends of January (<small>A.D.</small> 363, January -1st), at break of day, the new consuls, Mamertinus and Nevitta, hastened -to the palace to salute the emperor. As soon as he was informed of their -approach he leaped from his throne, eagerly advanced to meet them, and -compelled the blushing magistrates to receive the demonstrations of his -affected humility. From the palace they proceeded to the senate. The -emperor, on foot, marched before their litters; and the gazing multitude -admired the image of ancient times, or secretly blamed a conduct which, -in their eyes, degraded the majesty of the purple. But the behavior of -Julian was uniformly supported. During the games of the Circus he had, -imprudently or designedly, performed the manumission of a slave in the -presence of the consul. The moment he was re<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span>minded that he had -trespassed on the jurisdiction of <i>another</i> magistrate, he condemned -himself to pay a fine of ten pounds of gold, and embraced this public -occasion of declaring to the world that he was subject, like the rest of -his fellow-citizens, to the laws, and even to the forms of the republic. -The spirit of his administration and his regard for the place of his -nativity induced Julian to confer on the senate of Constantinople the -same honors, privileges, and authority which were still enjoyed by the -senate of ancient Rome.<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> A legal fiction was introduced, and -gradually established, that one half of the national council had -migrated into the East; and the despotic successors of Julian, accepting -the title of senators, acknowledged themselves the members of a -respectable body which was permitted to represent the majesty of the -Roman name. From Constantinople, the attention of the monarch was -extended to the municipal senates of the provinces. He abolished, by -repeated edicts, the unjust and pernicious exemptions which had -withdrawn so many idle citizens from the service of their country; and, -by imposing an equal distribution of public duties, he restored the -strength, the splendor, or, according to the glowing expression of -Libanius, the soul of the expiring cities of his empire. The venerable -age of Greece excited the most tender compassion in the mind of Julian, -which kindled into rapture when he recollected the gods, the heroes, and -the men superior to heroes and to gods, who had bequeathed to the latest -posterity the monuments of their genius or the example of their virtues. -He relieved the distress, and restored the beauty of the cities of -Epirus and Peloponnesus. Athens acknowledged him for her benefactor; -Argos, for her deliverer. The pride of Corinth, again rising from her<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span> -ruins with the honors of a Roman colony, exacted a tribute from the -adjacent republics for the purpose of defraying the games of the -Isthmus, which were celebrated in the amphitheatre with the hunting of -bears and panthers. From this tribute the cities of Elis, of Delphi, and -of Argos, which had inherited from their remote ancestors the sacred -office of perpetuating the Olympic, the Pythian, and the Nemean games, -claimed a just exemption. The immunity of Elis and Delphi was respected -by the Corinthians, but the poverty of Argos tempted the insolence of -oppression, and the feeble complaints of its deputies were silenced by -the decree of a provincial magistrate, who seems to have consulted only -the interest of the capital in which he resided. Seven years after this -sentence Julian allowed the cause to be referred to a superior tribunal, -and his eloquence was interposed—most probably with success—in the -defense of a city which had been the royal seat of Agamemnon and had -given to Macedonia a race of kings and conquerors.</p> - -<p>The laborious administration of military and civil affairs, which were -multiplied in proportion to the extent of the empire, exercised the -abilities of Julian; but he frequently assumed the two characters of -orator and of judge, which are almost unknown to the modern sovereigns -of Europe. The arts of persuasion, so diligently cultivated by the first -Cæsars, were neglected by the military ignorance and Asiatic pride of -their successors; and if they condescended to harangue the soldiers, -whom they feared, they treated with silent disdain the senators, whom -they despised. The assemblies of the senate, which Constantius had -avoided, were considered by Julian as the place where he could exhibit, -with the most propriety, the maxims of a republican and the talents of a -rhetorician. He alternately practiced, as in a school of declamation, -the several modes of praise, of censure, of exhortation; and his friend -Libanius has remarked that the study of Homer taught him to imitate the -simple, concise style of Menelaus, the copiousness of Nestor, whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span> -words descended like the flakes of a winter’s snow, or the pathetic and -forcible eloquence of Ulysses.</p> - -<p>The functions of a judge, which are sometimes incompatible with those of -a prince, were exercised by Julian, not only as a duty, but as an -amusement; and, although he might have trusted the integrity and -discernment of his prætorian prefects, he often placed himself by their -side on the seat of judgment. The acute penetration of his mind was -agreeably occupied in detecting and defeating the chicanery of the -advocates, who labored to disguise the truth of facts and to pervert the -sense of the laws. He sometimes forgot the gravity of his station, asked -indiscreet or unseasonable questions, and betrayed, by the loudness of -his voice and the agitation of his body, the earnest vehemence with -which he maintained his opinion against the judges, the advocates, and -their clients. But his knowledge of his own temper prompted him to -encourage, and even to solicit, the reproof of his friends and -ministers; and whenever they ventured to oppose the irregular sallies of -his passions, the spectators could observe the shame, as well as the -gratitude, of their monarch. The decrees of Julian were almost always -founded on the principles of justice; and he had the firmness to resist -the two most dangerous temptations which assault the tribunal of a -sovereign, under the specious forms of compassion and equity. He decided -the merits of the cause without weighing the circumstances of the -parties; and the poor, whom he wished to relieve, were condemned to -satisfy the just demands of a noble and wealthy adversary. He carefully -distinguished the judge from the legislator; and, though he meditated a -necessary reformation of the Roman jurisprudence, he pronounced sentence -according to the strict and literal interpretation of those laws which -the magistrates were bound to execute and the subjects to obey.</p> - -<p>The generality of princes, if they were stripped of their purple and -cast naked into the world, would immediately<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span> sink to the lowest rank of -society, without a hope of emerging from their obscurity. But the -personal merit of Julian was, in some measure, independent of his -fortune. Whatever had been his choice of life, by the force of intrepid -courage, lively wit, and intense application, he would have obtained, or -at least he would have deserved, the highest honors of his profession; -and Julian might have raised himself to the rank of minister, or -general, of the state in which he was born a private citizen. If the -jealous caprice of power had disappointed his expectations, if he had -prudently declined the paths of greatness, the employment of the same -talents in studious solitude would have placed beyond the reach of kings -his present happiness and his immortal fame. When we inspect with -minute, or perhaps malevolent attention the portrait of Julian, -something seems wanting to the grace and perfection of the whole figure. -His genius was less powerful and sublime than that of Cæsar; nor did he -possess the consummate prudence of Augustus. The virtues of Trajan -appear more steady and natural, and the philosophy of Marcus is more -simple and consistent. Yet Julian sustained adversity with firmness, and -prosperity with moderation. After an interval of one hundred and twenty -years from the death of Alexander Severus, the Romans beheld an emperor -who made no distinction between his duties and his pleasures; who -labored to relieve the distress and to revive the spirit of his -subjects; and who endeavored always to connect authority with merit, and -happiness with virtue. Even faction, and religious faction, was -constrained to acknowledge the superiority of his genius, in peace as -well as in war; and to confess, with a sigh, that the apostate Julian -was a lover of his country, and that he deserved the empire of the -world.</p> - -<p>The character of apostate has injured the reputation of Julian, and the -enthusiasm which clouded his virtues has exaggerated the real and -apparent magnitude of his faults. The vehement zeal of the Christians, -who despised the wor<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span>ship, and overturned the altars of those fabulous -deities, engaged their votary in a state of irreconcilable hostility -with a very numerous party of his subjects; and he was sometimes -tempted, by the desire of victory or the shame of a repulse, to violate -the laws of prudence, and even of justice. The triumph of the party -which he deserted and opposed, has fixed a stain of infamy on the name -of Julian; and the unsuccessful apostate has been overwhelmed with a -torrent of pious invectives, of which the signal was given by the -sonorous trumpet of Gregory Nazianzen.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> - -<h2><a name="THEODOSIUS_THE_GREAT" id="THEODOSIUS_THE_GREAT"></a>THEODOSIUS THE GREAT.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born in Spain, about 346 <small>A.D.</small>, of a Visigothic family, and died -395. He was made <i>Augustus</i>, or co-Emperor of the West, by Gratian, -in 379, but became by his great abilities the practical ruler of -the two empires, with his imperial seat at Constantinople. -Theodosius twice reconquered the West, where usurpers had made -successful revolt, and became the acknowledged master of the whole -Roman world. He was the last great emperor who shone brightly by -his genius for military affairs and his skill in civil -administration. Theodosius became so dear to the Catholic heart by -his persecution of the Arian heretics that he was afterward -canonized. At his death the empire was again divided, falling to -his sons, Honorius and Arcadius.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> same province, and, perhaps, the same city, which had given to the -throne the virtues of Trajan and the talents of Hadrian, was the -original seat of another family of Spaniards, who, in a less fortunate -age, possessed, near fourscore years, the declining Empire of Rome. They -emerged from the obscurity of municipal honors by the active spirit<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span> of -the elder Theodosius—a general whose exploits in Britain and Africa -have formed one of the most splendid parts of the annals of -Valentinian.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> The son of that general, who likewise bore the name of -Theodosius, was educated, by skillful preceptors, in the liberal studies -of youth; but he was instructed in the art of war by the tender care and -severe discipline of his father. Under the standard of such a leader, -young Theodosius sought glory and knowledge in the most distant scenes -of military action; inured his constitution to the difference of seasons -and climates; distinguished his valor by sea and land; and observed the -various warfare of the Scots, the Saxons, and the Moors. His own merit, -and the recommendation of the conqueror of Africa, soon raised him to a -separate command; and, in the station of Duke of Mæsia, he vanquished an -army of Sarmatians, saved a province, deserved the love of the soldiers, -and provoked the envy of the court. His rising fortunes were soon -blasted by the disgrace and execution of his illustrious father; and -Theodosius obtained, as a favor, the permission of retiring to a private -life in his native province of Spain. He displayed a firm and temperate -character in the ease with which he adapted himself to this new -situation. His time was almost equally divided between the town and -country; the spirit which had animated his public conduct was shown in -the active and affectionate performance of every social duty; and the -diligence of the soldier was profitably converted to the improvement of -his ample patrimony, which lay between Valladolid and Segovia, in the -midst of a fruitful district, still famous for a most exquisite breed of -sheep. From the innocent, but humble labors of his farm, Theodosius was -transported, in less than four<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span> months, to the throne of the Eastern -Empire; and the whole period of the history of the world will not -perhaps afford a similar example of an elevation at the same time so -pure and so honorable.</p> - -<p>The princes who peaceably inherit the scepter of their fathers claim and -enjoy a legal right, the more secure as it is absolutely distinct from -the merits of their personal characters. The subjects who, in a monarchy -or a popular state, acquire the possession of supreme power may have -raised themselves, by the superiority either of genius or virtue, above -the heads of their equals; but their virtue is seldom exempt from -ambition, and the cause of the successful candidate is frequently -stained by the guilt of conspiracy or civil war. Even in those -governments which allow the reigning monarch to declare a colleague, or -a successor, his partial choice, which may be influenced by the blindest -passions, is often directed to an unworthy object. But the most -suspicious malignity can not ascribe to Theodosius, in his obscure -solitude of Caucha, the arts, the desires, or even the hopes, of an -ambitious statesman; and the name of the exile would long since have -been forgotten if his genuine and distinguished virtues had not left a -deep impression in the imperial court. During the season of prosperity -he had been neglected, but in the public distress his superior merit was -universally felt and acknowledged. What confidence must have been -reposed in his integrity, since Gratian could trust that a pious son -would forgive, for the sake of the republic, the murder of his father! -What expectations must have been formed of his abilities, to encourage -the hope that a single man could save and restore the Empire of the -East! Theodosius was invested with the purple in the thirty-third year -of his age. The vulgar gazed with admiration on the manly beauty of his -face and the graceful majesty of his person, which they were pleased to -compare with the pictures and medals of the Emperor Trajan; while -intelligent observers discovered, in the qualities of his heart and -under<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span>standing, a more important resemblance to the best and greatest of -the Roman princes.</p> - -<p>The orator, who may be silent without danger, may praise without -difficulty and without reluctance; and posterity will confess that the -character of Theodosius might furnish the subject of a sincere and ample -panegyric. The wisdom of his laws and the success of his arms rendered -his administration respectable in the eyes both of his subjects and of -his enemies. He loved and practiced the virtues of domestic life, which -seldom hold their residence in the palaces of kings. Theodosius was -chaste and temperate; he enjoyed without excess the sensual and social -pleasures of the table, and the warmth of his amorous passions was never -diverted from their lawful objects. The proud titles of imperial -greatness were adorned by the tender names of a faithful husband, an -indulgent father; his uncle was raised, by his affectionate esteem, to -the rank of a second parent. Theodosius embraced as his own the children -of his brother and sister, and the expressions of his regard were -extended to the most distant and obscure branches of his numerous -kindred. His familiar friends were judiciously selected from among those -persons who, in the equal intercourse of private life, had appeared -before his eyes without a mask; the consciousness of personal and -superior merit enabled him to despise the accidental distinction of the -purple; and he proved by his conduct that he had forgotten all the -injuries while he most gratefully remembered all the favors and services -which he had received before he ascended the throne of the Roman Empire. -The serious or lively tone of his conversation was adapted to the age, -the rank, or the character of his subjects whom he admitted into his -society, and the affability of his manners displayed the image of his -mind. Theodosius respected the simplicity of the good and virtuous; -every art, every talent of a useful, or even of an innocent nature, was -rewarded by his judicious liberality; and, except the heretics, whom he -persecuted with implaca<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span>ble hatred, the diffusive circle of his -benevolence was circumscribed only by the limits of the human race.</p> - -<p>The government of a mighty empire may assuredly suffice to occupy the -time and the abilities of a mortal; yet the diligent prince, without -aspiring to the unsuitable reputation of profound learning, always -reserved some moments of his leisure for the instructive amusement of -reading. History, which enlarged his experience, was his favorite study. -The annals of Rome, in the long period of eleven hundred years, -presented him with a various and splendid picture of human life; and it -has been particularly observed that whenever he perused the cruel acts -of Cinna, of Marius, or of Sylla, he warmly expressed his generous -detestation of those enemies of humanity and freedom. His disinterested -opinion of past events was usefully applied as the rule of his own -actions; and Theodosius has deserved the singular commendation that his -virtues always seemed to expand with his fortune—the season of his -prosperity was that of his moderation; and his clemency appeared the -most conspicuous after the danger and success of the civil war. The -Moorish guards of the tyrant had been massacred in the first heat of the -victory, and a small number of the most obnoxious criminals suffered the -punishment of the law. But the emperor showed himself much more -attentive to relieve the innocent than to chastise the guilty. The -oppressed subjects of the West, who would have deemed themselves happy -in the restoration of their lands, were astonished to receive a sum of -money equivalent to their losses; and the liberality of the conqueror -supported the aged mother and educated the orphan daughters of Maximus. -A character thus accomplished might almost excuse the extravagant -supposition of the orator Pacatus, that, if the elder Brutus could be -permitted to revisit the earth, the stern republican would abjure, at -the feet of Theodosius, his hatred of kings, and ingenuously confess -that such a monarch was the most faithful guardian of the happiness and -dignity of the Roman people.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span></p> - -<p>Yet the piercing eye of the founder of the republic must have discerned -two essential imperfections, which might, perhaps, have abated his -recent love of despotism. The virtuous mind of Theodosius was often -relaxed by indolence, and it was sometimes inflamed by passion. In the -pursuit of an important object, his active courage was capable of the -most vigorous exertions; but, as soon as the design was accomplished, or -the danger was surmounted, the hero sunk into inglorious repose; and, -forgetful that the time of a prince is the property of his people, -resigned himself to the enjoyment of the innocent but trifling pleasures -of a luxurious court. The natural disposition of Theodosius was hasty -and choleric; and, in a station where none could resist and few would -dissuade the fatal consequence of his resentment, the humane monarch was -justly alarmed by the consciousness of his infirmity and of his power. -It was the constant study of his life to suppress or regulate the -intemperate sallies of passion; and the success of his efforts enhanced -the merit of his clemency. But the painful virtue which claims the merit -of victory is exposed to the danger of defeat; and the reign of a wise -and merciful prince was polluted by an act of cruelty which would stain -the annals of Nero or Domitian. Within the space of three years, the -inconsistent historian of Theodosius must relate the generous pardon of -the citizens of Antioch and the inhuman massacre of the people of -Thessalonica.<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="ATTILA_THE_SCOURGE_OF_GOD" id="ATTILA_THE_SCOURGE_OF_GOD"></a>ATTILA, THE SCOURGE OF GOD.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[King of the Huns, the Etzel of German epic and legend, one of the -greatest conquerors known to history. Date of birth unknown, that -of death about 454 <small>A.D.</small> The dominion to which he succeeded included -the Northern tribes from the Rhine to the Volga. At different times -he ravaged the whole of Europe, and more than once threatened to -extirpate Western civilization. The defeat which he suffered at the -hands of the Roman general Ætius on the plains of Châlons-sur-Marne -checked his power, and was probably the most murderous battle ever -fought in Europe. Attila died from the bursting of an artery after -a night of debauch, the occasion of the last espousal that swelled -the army of his countless wives. By some of the chroniclers he is -supposed to have been the victim of the newly married wife’s -treachery. He was buried in triple coffins of iron, silver, and -gold.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Attila</span>, the son of Mundzuk, deduced his noble, perhaps his regal descent -from the ancient Huns, who had formerly contended with the monarchs of -China. His features, according to the observation of a Gothic historian, -bore the stamp of his national origin; and the portrait of Attila -exhibits the genuine deformity of a modern Calmuck; a large head, a -swarthy complexion, small, deep-seated eyes, a flat nose, a few hairs in -the place of a beard, broad shoulders, and a short, square body, of -nervous strength, though of a disproportioned form. The haughty step and -demeanor of the king of the Huns expressed the consciousness of his -superiority above the rest of mankind; and he had a custom of fiercely -rolling his eyes, as if he wished to enjoy the terror which he inspired. -Yet this savage hero was not inaccessible to pity; his suppliant enemies -might confide in the assurance of peace or pardon; and Attila was -considered by his subjects as a just and indulgent master. He delighted -in war; but, after he had ascended the throne in a mature age, his head -rather than his hand achieved the conquest of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span> the North; and the fame -of an adventurous soldier was usefully exchanged for that of a prudent -and successful general. The effects of personal valor are so -inconsiderable, except in poetry or romance, that victory, even among -barbarians, must depend upon the degree of skill with which the passions -of the multitude are combined and guided for the service of a single -man. The Scythian conquerors, Attila and Zingis, surpassed their rude -countrymen in art rather than in courage; and it may be observed that -the monarchies, both of the Huns and of the Moguls, were erected by -their founders on the basis of popular superstition. The miraculous -conception which fraud and credulity ascribed to the virgin mother of -Zingis raised him above the level of human nature; and the naked prophet -who, in the name of the Deity, invested him with the empire of the -earth, pointed the valor of the Moguls with irresistible enthusiasm. The -religious arts of Attila were not less skillfully adapted to the -character of his age and country. It was natural enough that the -Scythians should adore with peculiar devotion the god of war; but as -they were incapable of forming either an abstract idea or a corporeal -representation, they worshiped their tutelar deity under the symbol of -an iron cimeter. One of the shepherds of the Huns perceived that a -heifer who was grazing had wounded herself in the foot, and curiously -followed the track of the blood till he discovered among the long grass -the point of an ancient sword, which he dug out of the ground and -presented to Attila.</p> - -<p>That magnanimous or rather that artful prince accepted with pious -gratitude this celestial favor, and, as the rightful possessor of the -<i>sword of Mars</i>, asserted his divine and indefeasible claim to the -dominion of the earth. If the rites of Scythia were practiced on this -solemn occasion, a lofty altar, or rather a pile of faggots, three -hundred yards in length and in breadth, was raised in a spacious plain, -and the sword of Mars was placed erect on the summit of this rustic -altar,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span> which was annually consecrated by the blood of sheep, horses, -and of the one hundredth captive. Whether human sacrifices formed any -part of the worship of Attila, or whether he propitiated the god of war -with the victims which he continually offered in the field of battle, -the favorite of Mars soon acquired a sacred character, which rendered -his conquests more easy and more permanent; and the barbarian princes -confessed, in the language of devotion or flattery, that they could not -presume to gaze with a steady eye on the divine majesty of the king of -the Huns. His brother, Bleda, who reigned over a considerable part of -the nation, was compelled to resign his scepter and his life. Yet even -this cruel act was attributed to a supernatural impulse; and the vigor -with which Attila wielded the sword of Mars convinced the world that it -had been reserved alone for his invincible arm. But the extent of his -empire affords the only remaining evidence of the number and importance -of his victories; and the Scythian monarch, however ignorant of the -value of science and philosophy, might perhaps lament that his -illiterate subjects were destitute of the art which could perpetuate the -memory of his exploits.</p> - -<p>If a line of separation were drawn between the civilized and the savage -climates of the globe, between the inhabitants of cities who cultivated -the earth and the hunters and shepherds who dwelt in tents, Attila might -aspire to the title of supreme and sole monarch of the barbarians. He -alone among the conquerors of ancient and modern times united the two -mighty kingdoms of Germany and Scythia; and those vague appellations, -when they are applied to his reign, may be understood with an ample -latitude. Thuringia, which stretched beyond its actual limits as far as -the Danube, was in the number of his provinces; he interposed, with the -weight of a powerful neighbor, in the domestic affairs of the Franks; -and one of his lieutenants chastised and almost exterminated the -Burgundians of the Rhine. He subdued the islands of the ocean, the -kingdoms of Scan<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span>dinavia, encompassed and divided by the waters of the -Baltic; and the Huns might derive a tribute of furs from that northern -region which has been protected from all other conquerors by the -severity of the climate and the courage of the natives. Toward the East, -it is difficult to circumscribe the dominion of Attila over the Scythian -deserts; yet we may be assured that he reigned on the banks of the -Volga; that the king of the Huns was dreaded, not only as a warrior but -as a magician; that he insulted and vanquished the Khan of the -formidable Geougen; and that he sent ambassadors to negotiate an equal -alliance with the Empire of China.</p> - -<p>In the proud review of the nations who acknowledged the sovereignty of -Attila, and who never entertained during his lifetime the thought of a -revolt, the Gepidæ and the Ostrogoths were distinguished by their -numbers, their bravery, and the personal merit of their chiefs. The -renowned Ardaric, king of the Gepidæ, was the faithful and sagacious -counselor of the monarch, who esteemed his intrepid genius, while he -loved the mild and discreet virtues of the noble Walamir, king of the -Ostrogoths. The crowd of vulgar kings, the leaders of so many martial -tribes who served under the standard of Attila, were ranged in the -submissive order of guards and domestics round the person of their -master. They watched his nod, they trembled at his frown, and at the -first signal of his will they executed, without murmur or hesitation, -his stern and absolute commands. In time of peace, the dependent -princes, with their national troops, attended the royal camp in regular -succession; but when Attila collected his military force he was able to -bring into the field an army of five, or, according to another account, -of seven hundred thousand barbarians.</p> - -<p>In all their invasions of the civilized empires of the South, the -Scythian shepherds have been uniformly actuated by a savage and -destructive spirit. The laws of war, that restrain the exercise of -national rapine and murder, are founded on two principles of substantial -interest; the knowl<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span>edge of the permanent benefits which may be obtained -by a moderate use of conquest, and a just apprehension lest the -desolation which we inflict on the enemy’s country may be retaliated on -our own. But these considerations of hope and fear are almost unknown in -the pastoral state of nations. The Huns of Attila may, without -injustice, be compared to the Moguls and Tartars before their primitive -manners were changed by religion and luxury; and the evidence of -Oriental history may reflect some light on the short and imperfect -annals of Rome. After the Moguls had subdued the northern provinces of -China, it was seriously proposed, not in the hour of victory and -passion, but in calm, deliberate council, to exterminate all the -inhabitants of that populous country, that the vacant land might be -converted to the pasture of cattle. The firmness of a Chinese mandarin, -who insinuated some principles of rational policy into the mind of -Zingis, diverted him from the execution of this horrid design. But in -the cities of Asia, which yielded to the Moguls, the inhuman abuse of -the rights of war was exercised with a regular form of discipline which -may with equal reason, though not with equal authority, be imputed to -the victorious Huns. The inhabitants, who had submitted to their -discretion, were ordered to evacuate their houses, and to assemble in -some plain adjacent to the city, where a division was made of the -vanquished into three parts. The first class consisted of the soldiers -of the garrison and of the young men capable of bearing arms, and their -fate was instantly decided; they were either enlisted among the Moguls, -or they were massacred on the spot by the troops, who, with pointed -spears and bended bows, had formed a circle round the captive multitude. -The second class, composed of the young and beautiful women, of the -artificers of every rank and profession, and of the more wealthy or -honorable citizens, from whom a private ransom might be expected, was -distributed in equal or proportionable lots. The remainder, whose life -or death was alike<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span> useless to the conquerors, were permitted to return -to the city—which, in the mean while, had been stripped of its valuable -furniture—and a tax was imposed on those wretched inhabitants for the -indulgence of breathing their native air. Such was the behavior of the -Moguls when they were not conscious of any extraordinary rigor. But the -most casual provocation, the slightest motive, of caprice or -convenience, often provoked them to involve a whole people in an -indiscriminate massacre; and the ruin of some flourishing cities was -executed with such unrelenting perseverance that, according to their own -expression, horses might run without stumbling over the ground where -they had once stood. The three great capitals of Khorasan, Maru, -Neisabour, and Herat were destroyed by the armies of Zingis; and the -exact account which was taken of the slain amounted to 4,347,000 -persons. Timur, or Tamerlane, was educated in a less barbarous age, and -in the profession of the Mohammedan religion; yet if Attila equaled the -hostile ravages of Tamerlane, either the Tartar or the Hun might deserve -the title of “the Scourge of God.”</p> - -<h2><a name="BELISARIUS" id="BELISARIUS"></a>BELISARIUS.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By LORD MAHON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born about 505 <small>A.D.</small>, of Slavonic descent, died 565. He rose from a -soldier in the imperial guard to the supreme command of the -Byzantine armies. For thirty years the glory and bulwark of the -Greek empire, his genius for war has been rarely surpassed, and the -field of his triumphs extended from Persia to Italy and Northern -Africa. In spite of his priceless services to his sovereign, the -envious and treacherous Justinian was careful to deprive him of -power and place, when the empire could spare his genius at the head -of its armies. His name has become a synonym for loyalty that no -ingratitude could shake. He died in poverty and obscurity, though -it was in his power any time during a score of years to snatch the -purple from his unworthy master.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> person Belisarius was tall and commanding, and presented a remarkable -contrast to the dwarfish and ungainly<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span> aspect of his rival Narses. His -features were regular and noble, and his appearance in the streets of -Constantinople after the Vandal and Gothic victories never failed to -attract the admiration of the people. His character may not unaptly be -compared to that of Marlborough, whom he equaled in talents and closely -resembled in his uxoriousness and love of money. As a military leader he -was enterprising, firm, and fearless; his conception was clear, and his -judgment rapid and decisive. His conquests were achieved with smaller -means than any other of like extent recorded in history. He frequently -experienced reverses in the field, but in no case did he fail without -some strong and sufficient reason for his failure, such as the mutiny of -his soldiers, the overwhelming number of his antagonists, or his total -want of necessary supplies; and it may be observed of him, as of -Arminius, that sometimes beaten in battle he was never overcome in war. -His superior tactics covered his defeats, retrieved his losses, and -prevented his enemies from reaping the fruits of victory; and it is -particularly mentioned that even in the most dangerous emergencies he -never lost his presence of mind.</p> - -<p>Among the circumstances which contributed most strongly to his success -were the kindness which his adversaries met with at his hands, and the -strict discipline which he maintained among his soldiers. The moderation -of Belisarius appears the more entitled to praise from the fierceness -and disorder usual in his age. It was his first care after every victory -to extend mercy and protection to the vanquished, and to shield their -persons and, if possible, their property from injury. During a march the -trampling of the corn-fields by the cavalry was carefully avoided, and -the troops, as Procopius tells us, seldom ventured even to gather an -apple from the trees, while a ready payment to the villagers for any -provisions that they bought made them bless the name of Belisarius and -secured to the Roman camp a plentiful supply. To the soldiers who -transgressed these<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span> rules the general was stern and unforgiving; no rank -could defy, no obscurity could elude his justice; and, because he -punished severely, he had to punish but seldom. But while the licentious -and turbulent were repressed by the strong arm of Belisarius, his -liberality cheered and animated the deserving. The gift of a gold -bracelet or collar rewarded any achievement in battle; the loss of a -horse or weapon was immediately supplied out of his private funds, and -the wounded found in him a father and a friend. His private virtues -promoted and confirmed the discipline of his men; none ever saw him -overcome with wine, and the charms of the fairest captives from the -Goths or Vandals could not overcome his conjugal fidelity.</p> - -<p>But the most striking and peculiar feature in the character of -Belisarius, as compared with that of other illustrious generals, was his -enduring and unconquerable loyalty. He was doubtless bound to Justinian -by many ties of gratitude, and the suspicion entertained of him in -Africa may be considered as fully counterbalanced by the triumph and -other honors which awaited his return. But from the siege of Ravenna -till his final departure from Italy he was, almost without intermission, -exposed to the most galling and unworthy treatment; he was insulted, -degraded, and despised; he was even attacked in his fame, when restored -to an important station, without any means for discharging its duties -and for sustaining his former reputation. It would be difficult to -repeat another instance of such signal and repeated ingratitude unless -in republics, where from the very nature of the government no crime is -so dangerous or so well punished as serving the state too well. When we -consider the frequency and therefore the ease of revolutions in this -age, the want of hereditary right in the imperial family, the strong -attachment of the soldiers to their victorious general, while the person -of Justinian was hateful even to his own domestic guards, it will, I -think, be admitted that a rebellion by Belisarius must have proved -successful and secure. On<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span> no occasion was he roused into the slightest -mark of disobedience or resentment; he bore every injury with unchanged -submission; he resisted the feelings of indignation, of revenge, of -self-interest, and even the thirst for glory, which, according to -Tacitus, is of all frailties the longest retained by the wise. Besides -him, no more than six generals have been named by one of our most -judicious critics as having deserved, without having worn a crown;<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> -and the smallness of this number should display the difficulty of -withstanding this brilliant temptation and enhance the reputation of -those who have withstood it.</p> - -<p>The chief fault of Belisarius seems to have been his unbounded deference -and submission to his wife, which rendered him strangely blind and -afterward weakly forgiving to her infidelity. But its mischievous -effects were not confined to private life, and nearly all the errors -which can be charged upon his public career are imputed to this cause. -It was Antonina who assumed the principal part in the deposition of the -Pope, who urged the death of Constantine, who promoted the prosecution -of Photius; and in his whole conduct with regard to that worthless woman -Belisarius appears alternately the object of censure or ridicule. His -confidence in her must have tended to lower his official character, to -fetter and mislead his judgment, and to prevent his justice and -impartiality whenever her passions were concerned. The second reproach -to which the character of Belisarius appears liable is that of rapacity -in the latter part of his career. How highly would his fame have been -exalted by an honorable poverty, and how much would the animosity of his -enemies at court have abated, had they seen no spoils to gather from his -fall!</p> - -<p>The life of Belisarius produced most important effects<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span> on the political -and social revolutions of the world. I have already endeavored to show -that his reduction of Africa probably contributed to the rapid progress -of the Mussulmans, but this and his other victories probably saved his -country from impending ruin. During the fifth century more than half the -provinces of the ancient empire had been usurped by the barbarians, and -the rising tide of their conquests must soon have overwhelmed the -remainder. The decline of the Byzantine Romans was threatened by the -youthful vigor of the Vandal and Ostrogothic kingdoms. Although the -founders of these mighty monarchies had been wisely solicitous for -peace, they left their successors fully able to undertake any projects -of invasion; and an alliance of these states against the Romans must -have been fatal to the last. Had not Belisarius arisen at this -particular juncture the Vandals, Goths, and Persians would in all -likelihood have divided the imperial provinces among them. The Arian -doctrines, of which the two former were zealous partisans, would then -probably have prevailed in the Christian world, the whole balance of -power in Europe would have undergone incalculable changes, and the -treasures of Greek and Roman genius would never have enlightened modern -times.</p> - -<h2><a name="MOHAMMED_THE_FOUNDER_OF_ISLAM" id="MOHAMMED_THE_FOUNDER_OF_ISLAM"></a>MOHAMMED,<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> THE FOUNDER OF ISLAM.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born 570 or 571 <small>A.D.</small>, died 632. Like all the upper classes of -Mecca, his birthplace, the future prophet devoted himself to -commercial pursuits, and in his twenty-fifth year he married the -rich widow whose business he supervised. It was not till his -fortieth year that he</p></div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_005" style="width: 450px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp083.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp083.jpg" width="450" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>MOHAMMED.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">announced to the world his heavenly mission, his first converts -being his wife and his uncle Abu Taleb. He was compelled to fly -from Mecca to Medina, and the year of the flight known as the -“Hegira,” 622 <small>A.D.</small>, is the foundation of the Mohammedan era. Within -a decade Mohammed converted nearly the whole of Arabia to his new -religion, and the dominion of his successors was spread with a -rapidity which is among the marvels of history.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> plebeian birth of Mahomet is an unskillful calumny of the -Christians, who exalt instead of degrading the merit of their adversary. -His descent from Ishmael was a national privilege or fable; but if the -first steps of the pedigree are dark and doubtful, he could produce many -generations of pure and genuine nobility; he sprung from the tribe of -Koreish and the family of Hashem, the most illustrious of the Arabs, the -princes of Mecca, and the hereditary guardians of the Caaba. The -grandfather of Mahomet was Abdol Motalleb, the son of Hashem, a wealthy -and generous citizen who relieved the distress of famine with the -supplies of commerce. Mecca, which had been fed by the liberality of the -father, was saved by the courage of the son. The kingdom of Yemen was -subject to the Christian princes of Abyssinia; their vassal Abrahah was -provoked by an insult to avenge the honor of the cross; and the holy -city was invested by a train of elephants and an army of Africans. A -treaty was proposed, and in the first audience the grandfather of -Mahomet demanded the restitution of his cattle. “And why,” said Abrahah, -“do you not rather implore my clemency in favor of your temple, which I -have threatened to destroy?” “Because,” replied the intrepid chief, “the -cattle is my own; the Caaba belongs to the gods, and <i>they</i> will defend -their house from injury and sacrilege.” The want of provisions, or the -valor of the Koreish, compelled the Abyssinians to a disgraceful -retreat; their discomfiture has been adorned with a miraculous flight of -birds, who showered down stones on the heads of the infidels; and the -deliverance was long commemorated by the era of the elephant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span></p> - -<p>The glory of Abdol Motalleb was crowned with domestic happiness, his -life was prolonged to the age of one hundred and ten years, and he -became the father of six daughters and thirteen sons. His best beloved -Abdallah was the most beautiful and modest of the Arabian youth. -Mahomet, or more properly Mohammed, the only son of Abdallah and Amina, -of the noble race of the Zahrites, was born at Mecca, four years after -the death of Justinian. In his early infancy he was deprived of his -father, his mother, and his grandfather; his uncles were strong and -numerous; and in the division of the inheritance the orphan’s share was -reduced to five camels and an Ethiopian maid-servant. At home and -abroad, in peace and war, Abu Taleb, the most respectable of his uncles, -was the guide and guardian of his youth; in his twenty-fifth year he -entered into the service of Cadijah, a rich and noble widow of Mecca, -who soon rewarded his fidelity with the gift of her hand and fortune. -The marriage contract, in the simple style of antiquity, recites the -mutual love of Mahomet and Cadijah; describes him as the most -accomplished of the tribe of Koreish; and stipulates a dowry of twelve -ounces of gold and twenty camels, which was supplied by the liberality -of his uncle. By this alliance the son of Abdallah was restored to the -station of his ancestors, and the judicious matron was content with his -domestic virtues, till, in the fortieth year of his age, he assumed the -title of a prophet and proclaimed the religion of the Koran.</p> - -<p>According to the tradition of his companions, Mahomet was distinguished -by the beauty of his person, an outward gift which is seldom despised, -except by those to whom it has been refused. Before he spoke, the orator -engaged on his side the affections of a public or private audience. They -applauded his commanding presence, his majestic aspect, his piercing -eye, his gracious smile, his flowing beard, his countenance that painted -every sensation of the soul, and his gestures that enforced each -expression of the tongue.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span> In the familiar offices of life he -scrupulously adhered to the grave and ceremonious politeness of his -country; his respectful attention to the rich and powerful was dignified -by his condescension and affability to the poorest citizens of Mecca; -the frankness of his manner concealed the artifice of his views, and the -habits of courtesy were imputed to personal friendship or universal -benevolence. His memory was capacious and retentive, his wit easy and -social, his imagination sublime, his judgment clear, rapid, and -decisive. He possessed the courage both of thought and action; and, -although his designs might gradually expand with his success, the first -idea which he entertained of his divine mission bears the stamp of an -original and superior genius. The son of Abdallah was educated in the -bosom of the noblest race, in the use of the purest dialect of Arabia; -and the fluency of his speech was corrected and enhanced by the practice -of discreet and seasonable silence. With these powers of eloquence -Mahomet was an illiterate barbarian; his youth had never been instructed -in the arts of reading and writing; the common ignorance exempted him -from shame or reproach, but he was reduced to a narrow circle of -existence, and deprived of those faithful mirrors which reflect to our -mind the minds of sages and heroes. Yet the book of nature and of man -was open to his view; and some fancy has been indulged in the political -and philosophical observations which are ascribed to the Arabian -<i>traveler</i>. He compares the nations and the religions of the earth; -discovers the weakness of the Persian and Roman monarchies; beholds, -with pity and indignation, the degeneracy of the times; and resolves to -unite, under one God and one king, the invincible spirit and primitive -virtues of the Arabs. Our more accurate inquiry will suggest that, -instead of visiting the courts, the camps, the temples of the East, the -two journeys of Mahomet into Syria were confined to the fairs of Bostra -and Damascus; that he was only thirteen years of age when he accompanied -the caravan of his uncle; and that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span> his duty compelled him to return as -soon as he had disposed of the merchandise of Cadijah. In these hasty -and superficial excursions the eye of genius might discern some objects -invisible to his grosser companions; some seeds of knowledge might be -cast upon a fruitful soil; but his ignorance of the Syriac language must -have checked his curiosity, and I can not perceive in the life or -writings of Mahomet that his prospect was far extended beyond the limits -of the Arabian world.</p> - -<p>From every region of that solitary world the pilgrims of Mecca were -annually assembled by the calls of devotion and commerce; in the free -concourse of multitudes, a simple citizen, in his native tongue, might -study the political state and character of the tribes, the theory and -practice of the Jews and Christians. Some useful strangers might be -tempted, or forced, to implore the rights of hospitality; and the -enemies of Mahomet have named the Jew, the Persian, and the Syrian monk -whom they accuse of lending their secret aid to the composition of the -Koran. Conversation enriches the understanding, but solitude is the -school of genius; and the uniformity of a work denotes the hand of a -single artist. From his earliest youth Mahomet was addicted to religious -contemplation; each year, during the month of Ramadan, he withdrew from -the world and from the arms of Cadijah; in the cave of Hera, three miles -from Mecca, he consulted the spirit of fraud or enthusiasm, whose abode -is not in the heavens, but in the mind of the prophet. The faith which, -under the name of <i>Islam</i>, he preached to his family and nation, is -compounded of an eternal truth and a necessary fiction, that <i>there is -only one God, and that Mahomet is the apostle of God</i>.</p> - -<p>It may, perhaps, be expected that I should balance his faults and -virtues, that I should decide whether the title of enthusiast or -impostor more properly belongs to that extraordinary man. Had I been -intimately conversant with the son of Abdallah, the task would still be -difficult, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span> the success uncertain; at the distance of twelve -centuries, I darkly contemplate his shade through a cloud of religious -incense; and could I truly delineate the portrait of an hour, the -fleeting resemblance would not equally apply to the solitary of Mount -Hera, to the preacher of Mecca, and to the conqueror of Arabia. The -author of a mighty revolution appears to have been endowed with a pious -and contemplative disposition; so soon as marriage had raised him above -the pressure of want, he avoided the paths of ambition and avarice; and -till the age of forty he lived with innocence, and would have died -without a name. The unity of God is an idea most congenial to nature and -reason; and a slight conversation with the Jews and Christians would -teach him to despise and detest the idolatry of Mecca. It was the duty -of a man and a citizen to impart the doctrine of salvation, to rescue -his country from the dominion of sin and error. The energy of a mind -incessantly bent on the same object would convert a general obligation -into a particular call; the warm suggestions of the understanding or the -fancy would be felt as the inspirations of heaven; the labor of thought -would expire in rapture and vision; and the inward sensation, the -invisible monitor, would be described with the form and attributes of an -angel of God.</p> - -<p>From enthusiasm to imposture the step is perilous and slippery; the -demon of Socrates affords a memorable instance how a wise man may -deceive himself, how a good man may deceive others, how the conscience -may slumber in a mixed and middle state between self-illusion and -voluntary fraud. Charity may believe that the original motives of -Mahomet were those of pure and genuine benevolence; but a human -missionary is incapable of cherishing the obstinate unbelievers who -reject his claims, despise his arguments, and persecute his life; he -might forgive his personal adversaries, he may lawfully hate the enemies -of God; the stern passions of pride and revenge were kindled in the -bosom of Mahomet, and he sighed, like the prophet of Nineveh, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span> the -destruction of the rebels whom he had condemned. The injustice of Mecca -and the choice of Medina transformed the citizen into a prince, the -humble preacher into the leader of armies; but his sword was consecrated -by the example of the saints, and the same God who afflicts a sinful -world with pestilence and earthquakes might inspire for their conversion -or chastisement the valor of his servants. In the exercise of political -government he was compelled to abate of the stern rigor of fanaticism, -to comply in some measure with the prejudices and passions of his -followers, and to employ even the vices of mankind as the instruments of -their salvation. The use of fraud and perfidy, of cruelty and injustice, -were often subservient to the propagation of the faith; and Mahomet -commanded or approved the assassination of the Jews and idolaters who -had escaped from the field of battle. By the repetition of such acts the -character of Mahomet must have been gradually stained, and the influence -of such pernicious habits would be poorly compensated by the practice of -the personal and social virtues which are necessary to maintain the -reputation of a prophet among his secretaries and friends.</p> - -<p>Of his last years ambition was the ruling passion; and a politician will -suspect that he secretly smiled (the victorious impostor!) at the -enthusiasm of his youth and the credulity of his proselytes. A -philosopher will observe that <i>their</i> cruelty and <i>his</i> success would -tend more strongly to fortify the assurance of his divine mission, that -his interest and religion were inseparably connected, and that his -conscience would be soothed by the persuasion that he alone was absolved -by the Deity from the obligation of positive and moral laws. If he -retained any vestige of his native innocence, the sins of Mahomet may be -allowed as an evidence of his sincerity. In the support of truth the -arts of fraud and fiction may be deemed less criminal, and he would have -started at the foulness of the means had he not been satisfied of the -importance and justice of the end. Even in a conqueror or a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span> priest, I -can surprise a word or action of unaffected humanity; and the decree of -Mahomet that, in the sale of captives, the mothers should never be -separated from their children, may suspend or moderate the censure of -the historian.</p> - -<p>The good sense of Mahomet despised the pomp of royalty; the apostle of -God submitted to the menial offices of the family; he kindled the fire, -swept the floor, milked the ewes, and mended with his own hands his -shoes and his woolen garment. Disdaining the penance and merit of a -hermit, he observed, without effort or vanity, the abstemious diet of an -Arab and a soldier. On solemn occasions he feasted his companions with -rustic and hospitable plenty; but in his domestic life, many weeks would -elapse without a fire being kindled on the hearth of the prophet. The -interdiction of wine was confirmed by his example; his hunger was -appeased with a sparing allowance of barley bread; he delighted in the -taste of milk and honey, but his ordinary food consisted of dates and -water. Perfumes and women were the two sensual enjoyments which his -nature required and his religion did not forbid. Their incontinence was -regulated by the civil and religious laws of the Koran; their incestuous -alliances were blamed, the boundless license of polygamy was reduced to -four legitimate wives or concubines; their rights, both of bed and of -dowry, were equitably determined; the freedom of divorce was -discouraged, adultery was condemned as a capital offense, and -fornication in either sex was punished with a hundred stripes. Such were -the calm and rational precepts of the legislator; but in his private -conduct Mahomet indulged the appetites of a man, and abused the claims -of a prophet. The youth, the beauty, the spirit of Ayesha, gave her a -superior ascendant; she was beloved and trusted by the prophet, and -after his death the daughter of Abubeker was long revered as the mother -of the faithful. During the twenty-four years of the marriage of Mahomet -with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span> Cadijah, her youthful husband abstained from the right of -polygamy, and the pride or tenderness of the venerable matron was never -insulted by the society of a rival. After her death he placed her in the -rank of the four perfect women—with the sister of Moses, the mother of -Jesus, and Fatima, the best beloved of his daughters. “Was she not old?” -said Ayesha, with the insolence of a blooming beauty; “has not God given -you a better in her place?” “No, by God,” said Mahomet, with an effusion -of honest gratitude, “there never can be a better! she believed in me -when men despised me; she relieved my wants when I was poor and -persecuted by the world.”</p> - -<h2><a name="CHARLEMAGNE" id="CHARLEMAGNE"></a>CHARLEMAGNE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By SIR JAMES STEPHEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Otherwise known as Charles I, or Charles the Great, Emperor of the -West and King of France, born 742 <small>A.D.</small>, died 814. Grandson of -Charles Martel and son of Pepin, who, under the titular rank of -Mayor of the Palace and Duke of Austrasia, had exercised the -substantial functions of French sovereignty during the closing days -of the Merovingian kings. Charlemagne was the true founder of the -Carlovingian dynasty, and was by conquest the ruler over much of -what is now Germany, Austria, the Netherlands, Belgium, and Italy. -He is one of the colossal figures in early European history. But -even his genius, though gifted with the finest traits of the -soldier, administrator, and law-maker, could not delay that -tremendous revolution of society, which intervened between the -collapse of the old Roman system and the establishment of -feudalism. The most important events of his reign were the -subjugation and conversion of the Saxons and the re-establishment -of the Western Empire.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> political maxims which Charlemagne acquired by tradition and -inheritance had, to a certain extent, become obsolete when he himself -succeeded to the power of his ancestors and to the crown of his father, -Pepin. It was then no longer necessary to practice those hereditary arts -with a</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_006" style="width: 448px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp100.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp100.jpg" width="448" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>CHARLEMAGNE.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">view to the great prize to which they had so long been subservient. But -the maxims by which the Carlovingian scepter had been won were not less -necessary in order to defend and to retain it. They afford the key to -more than half the history of the great conqueror from whom that dynasty -derives its name. The cardinal points to which throughout his long and -glorious reign his mind was directed with an inflexible tenacity of -purpose, were precisely those toward which his forefathers had bent -their attention. They were to conciliate the attachment of his German -subjects by studiously maintaining their old German institutions; to -anticipate instead of awaiting the invasions of the barbarous nations by -whom he was surrounded; to court the alliance and support of all other -secular potentates of the East and West; and to strengthen his own power -by the most intimate relations with the Church.</p> - -<p>I have, however, already observed that Charlemagne had other rules or -habits of conduct which were the indigenous growth of his own mind. It -was only in a mind of surpassing depth and fertility that such maxims -could have been nurtured and made to yield their appropriate fruits; -for, first, he firmly believed that the power of his house could have no -secure basis except in the religious, moral, intellectual, and social -improvement of his subjects; and, secondly, he was no less firmly -persuaded that in order to effect that improvement it was necessary to -consolidate all temporal authority in Europe by the reconstruction of -the Cæsarian empire—that empire beneath the shelter of which religion, -law, and learning had so long and so widely flourished throughout the -dominions of imperial Rome.</p> - -<p>Gibbon has remarked, that of all the heroes to whom the title of “the -Great” had been given, Charlemagne alone has retained it as a permanent -addition to his name. The reason may, perhaps, be that in no other man -were ever united in so large a measure, and in such perfect harmony, the -qualities which, in their combination, constitute<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span> the heroic character, -such as energy, or the love of action; ambition, or the love of power; -curiosity, or the love of knowledge; and sensibility, or the love of -pleasure—not, indeed, the love of forbidden, of unhallowed, or of -enervating pleasure, but the keen relish for those blameless delights by -which the burdened mind and jaded spirits recruit and renovate their -powers—delights of which none are susceptible in the highest degree but -those whose more serious pursuits are sustained by the highest motives -and directed toward the highest ends; for the charms of social -intercourse, the play of buoyant fancy, the exhilaration of honest -mirth, and even the refreshment of athletic exercises, require, for -their perfect enjoyment, that robust and absolute health of body and of -mind, which none but the noblest natures possess and in the possession -of which Charlemagne exceeded all other men.</p> - -<p>His lofty stature, his open countenance, his large and brilliant eyes, -and the dome-like structure of his head imparted, as we learn from -Eginhard, to all his attitudes the dignity which becomes a king, -relieved by the graceful activity of a practiced warrior. He was still a -stranger to every form of bodily disease when he entered his seventieth -year; and although he was thenceforward constrained to pay the usual -tribute to sickness and to pain, he maintained to the last a contempt -for the whole <i>materia medica</i>, and for the dispensers of it, which -Molière himself, in his gayest mood, might have envied. In defiance of -the gout, he still followed the chase, and still provoked his comrades -to emulate his feats in swimming, as though the iron frame which had -endured nearly threescore campaigns had been incapable of lassitude and -exempt from decay.</p> - -<p>In the monastery of St. Gall, near the Lake of Constance, there was -living in the ninth century a monk who relieved the tedium of his -monotonous life and got the better, as he tells us, of much -constitutional laziness by collecting anecdotes of the mighty monarch, -with whose departed glories<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span> the world was at that time ringing. In this -amusing legend Charlemagne, the conqueror, the legislator, the patron of -learning, and the restorer of the empire, makes way for Charlemagne, the -joyous companion, amusing himself with the comedy or rather with the -farce of life, and contributing to it not a few practical jokes, which -stand in most whimsical contrast with the imperial dignity of the -jester. Thus, when he commands a whole levy of his blandest courtiers, -plumed and furred and silken as they stood, to follow him in the chase -through sleet and tempest, mud and brambles; or constrains an unhappy -chorister, who had forgotten his responses, to imitate the other members -of the choir by a long series of mute grimaces; or concerts with a Jew -peddler a scheme for palming off, at an enormous price, on an Episcopal -virtuoso, an embalmed rat, as an animal till then unknown to any -naturalist—these, and many similar facetiæ, which in any other hands -might have seemed mere childish frivolities, reveal to us, in the -illustrious author of them, that native alacrity of spirit and -child-like glee, which neither age nor cares nor toil could subdue, and -which not even the oppressive pomps of royalty were able to suffocate.</p> - -<p>Nor was the heart which bounded thus lightly after whim or merriment -less apt to yearn with tenderness over the interior circle of his home. -While yet a child, he had been borne on men’s shoulders, in a buckler -for his cradle, to accompany his father in his wars; and in later life, -he had many a strange tale to tell of his father’s achievements. With -his mother, Bertha, the long-footed, he lived in affectionate and -reverend intimacy, which never knew a pause except on one occasion, -which may perhaps apologize for some breach even of filial reverence, -for Bertha had insisted on giving him a wife against his own consent. -His own parental affections were indulged too fondly and too long, and -were fatal both to the immediate objects of them and to his own -tranquillity. But with Eginhard and Alcuin<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span> and the other associates of -his severer labors, he maintained that grave and enduring friendship, -which can be created only on the basis of the most profound esteem, and -which can be developed only by that free interchange of thought and -feeling which implies the temporary forgetfulness of all the -conventional distinctions of rank and dignity.</p> - -<p>It was a retributive justice which left Gibbon to deform, with such -revolting obscenities, the pages in which he waged his disingenuous -warfare against the one great purifying influence of human society. It -may also have been retributive justice which has left the glory of -Charlemagne to be overshadowed by the foul and unmerited reproach on -which Gibbon dwells with such offensive levity; for the monarch was -habitually regardless of that law, at once so strict and so benignant, -which has rendered chastity the very bond of domestic love and happiness -and peace. In bursting through the restraints of virtue, Charlemagne was -probably the willing victim of a transparent sophistry. From a nature so -singularly constituted as his, sweet waters or bitter might flow with -equal promptitude. That peculiarity of temperament in which his virtues -and his vices found their common root probably confounded the -distinctions of good and evil in his self-judgments, and induced him to -think lightly of the excesses of a disposition so often conducting him -to the most noble and magnanimous enterprises; for such was the revelry -of his animal life, so inexhaustible his nervous energies, so intense -the vibrations of each successive impulse along the chords of his -sensitive nature, so insatiable his thirst for activity, and so -uncontrollable his impatience of repose, that, whether he was engaged in -a frolic or a chase, composed verses or listened to homilies, fought or -negotiated, cast down thrones or built them up, studied, conversed, or -legislated, it seemed as if he, and he alone, were the one wakeful and -really living agent in the midst of an inert, visionary, and somnolent -generation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span></p> - -<p>The rank held by Charlemagne among great commanders was achieved far -more by this strange and almost superhuman activity than by any -pre-eminent proficiency in the art or science of war. He was seldom -engaged in any general action, and never undertook any considerable -siege, excepting that of Pavia, which, in fact, was little more than a -protracted blockade; but, during forty-six years of almost unintermitted -warfare, he swept over the whole surface of Europe, from the Ebro to the -Oder, from Bretagne to Hungary, from Denmark to Capua, with such a -velocity of movement and such a decision of purpose that no power, -civilized or barbarous, ever provoked his resentment without rapidly -sinking beneath his prompt and irresistible blows. And though it be -true, as Gibbon has observed, that he seldom if ever encountered in the -field a really formidable antagonist, it is not less true that, but for -his military skill animated by his sleepless energy, the countless -assailants by whom he was encompassed must rapidly have become too -formidable for resistance; for to Charlemagne is due the introduction -into modern warfare of the art by which a general compensates for the -numerical inferiority of his own forces to those of his antagonists—the -art of moving detached bodies of men along remote but converging lines -with such mutual concert as to throw their united forces at the same -moment on any meditated point of attack. Neither the Alpine marches of -Hannibal nor those of Napoleon were combined with greater foresight or -executed with greater precision than the simultaneous passages of -Charlemagne and Count Bernard across the same mountain-ranges, and their -ultimate union in the vicinity of their Lombard enemies.</p> - -<p>But though many generals have eclipsed the fame of Charlemagne as a -strategist, no one ever rivaled his inflexible perseverance as a -conqueror. The Carlovingian crown may indeed be said to have been worn -on the tenure of continual conquests. It was on that condition alone -that the family<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span> of Pepin of Heristal could vindicate the deposition of -the Merovings and the pre-eminence of the Austrasian people; and each -member of that family, in his turn, gave an example of obedience to that -law, or tradition, of their house. But by none of them was it so well -observed as by Charlemagne himself. From his first expedition to his -last there intervened forty-six years, no one of which he passed in -perfect peace, nor without some military triumph. In six months he -reduced into obedience the great province or kingdom of Aquitaine. In -less than two years he drove the Lombard king into a monastic exile, -placing on his own brows the iron crown, and with it the sovereignty -over nearly all the Italian peninsula. During thirty-three successive -summers he invaded the great Saxon confederacy, until the deluge of -barbarism with which they threaten southern Europe was effectually and -forever repressed.</p> - -<p>It has been alleged, indeed, that the Saxon wars were waged in the -spirit of fanaticism, and that the vicar of Christ placed the sword of -Mohammed in the hands of the sovereign of the Franks. It is, I think, an -unfounded charge, though sanctioned by Gibbon and by Warburton, and by -names of perhaps even greater authority than theirs. That the -alternative, “believe or die,” was sometimes proposed by Charlemagne to -the Saxons, I shall not, indeed, dispute. But it is not less true that, -before these terms were tendered to them, they had again and again -rejected his less formidable proposal, “be quiet and live.” In form and -in terms, indeed, their election lay between the Gospel and the sword. -In substance and in reality, they had to make their choice between -submission and destruction. A long and deplorable experience had already -shown that the Frankish people had neither peace nor security to expect -for a single year, so long as their Saxon neighbors retained their -heathen rites and the ferocious barbarism inseparable from them. Fearful -as may be the dilemma, “submit or perish,” it is that to which every -nation, even in our own</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_007" style="width: 443px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp107.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp107.jpg" width="443" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>ALFRED THE GREAT.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">times, endeavors to reduce a host of invading and desolating foes; nor, -if we ourselves were now exposed to similar inroads, should we offer to -our assailants conditions more gentle or less peremptory.</p> - -<h2><a name="ALFRED_THE_GREAT_OF_ENGLAND" id="ALFRED_THE_GREAT_OF_ENGLAND"></a>ALFRED THE GREAT, OF ENGLAND.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By DAVID HUME.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Hereditary King of the West Saxons, and Over-king of all England, -born in 849 <small>A.D.</small>, died 901. Alfred was the true founder of the -English monarchy, and one of the greatest monarchs in English -history. In his reign the English became essentially one people, -and the Danish invaders then settled in England were incorporated -with the Saxons. Alfred was not only a great soldier and statesman, -but was distinguished for intellectual greatness in the pursuit of -arts and letters. Under his patronage the Saxon court became the -source of civilizing influences that extended over all Northern and -Western Europe.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> merit of this prince both in private and public life may with -advantage be set in opposition to that of any monarch or citizen which -the annals of any age or nation can present to us. He seems, indeed, to -be the model of that perfect character which, under the denomination of -sage or wise man, philosophers have been fond of delineating rather as a -fiction of their own imagination than in hopes of seeing it existing, so -happily were all his virtues tempered together, so justly were they -blended, and so powerfully did each prevent the other from exceeding its -proper boundaries. He knew how to reconcile the most enterprising spirit -with the coolest moderation, the most obstinate perseverance with the -easiest flexibility; the most severe justice with the gentlest lenity; -the greatest vigor in commanding with the most perfect affability of -deportment; the highest capacity and inclination for science with the -most shining talents for action. His civil and his military<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span> virtues are -almost equally the objects of our admiration, excepting only that the -former being more rare among princes as well as more useful seem chiefly -to challenge our applause.</p> - -<p>Nature, also, as if desirous that so bright a production of her skill -should be set in the fairest light, had bestowed on him every bodily -accomplishment—vigor of limbs, dignity of air and shape, with a -pleasant, engaging, and open countenance. Fortune alone by throwing him -into that barbarous age deprived him of historians worthy to transmit -his fame to posterity; and we wish to see him delineated in more lively -colors, and with more peculiar strokes, that we may at least perceive -some of those specks and blemishes from which as a man it is impossible -he could be entirely exempted.</p> - -<p>The better to guide the magistrates in the administration of justice, -Alfred framed a body of laws, which, though now lost, served long as the -basis of English jurisprudence, and is generally deemed the origin of -what is denominated the Common Law. The similarity of these institutions -to the customs of the ancient Germans, to the practice of the other -Northern conquerors, and to the Saxon laws during the heptarchy, -prevents us from regarding Alfred as the sole author of this plan of -government, and leads us rather to think that, like a wise man, he -contented himself with reforming, extending, and executing the -institutions which he found previously established.</p> - -<p>But on the whole such success attended his legislation that everything -bore suddenly a new face in England. Robberies and iniquities of all -kinds were repressed by the punishment or reformation of criminals; and -so exact was the general police that Alfred, it is said, hung up by way -of bravado golden bracelets near the highways, and no man dared touch -them. Yet, amid these rigors of justice, this great prince preserved the -most sacred regard to the liberties of the people; and it is a memorable -sentiment preserved in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span> his will that it was just the English should -ever remain as free as their own thoughts.</p> - -<p>As good morals and knowledge are almost inseparable in every age, though -not in every individual, the care of Alfred for the encouragement of -learning among his subjects was another useful branch of his -legislation, and tended to reclaim the English from their former -dissolute and ferocious manners. But the king was guided in this pursuit -less by political views than by his natural bent and propensity toward -letters.</p> - -<p>When he came to the throne he found the nation sunk into the grossest -ignorance and barbarism, proceeding from the continued disorders in the -government and from the ravages of the Danes. The monasteries were -destroyed, the monks butchered or dispersed, their libraries burned, and -thus the only seats of erudition in those ages were totally subverted. -Alfred himself complains that on his accession he knew not one person -south of the Thames who could so much as interpret the Latin service, -and very few in the northern parts who had reached even that pitch of -erudition. But this prince invited over the most celebrated scholars -from all parts of Europe; he established schools everywhere for the -instruction of his people; he founded—at least repaired—the University -of Oxford, and endowed it with many privileges, revenues, and -immunities. He gave preferment both in Church and state to such only as -made some proficiency in knowledge.</p> - -<p>But the most effectual expedient adopted by Alfred for the encouragement -of learning was his own example, and the constant assiduity with which, -notwithstanding the multiplicity and urgency of his affairs, he employed -himself in the pursuit of knowledge. He usually divided his time into -three equal portions—one was employed in sleep, and the refection of -his body by diet and exercise; another, in the dispatch of business; a -third, in study and devotion. And that he might more exactly measure the -hours, he made use<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span> of burning tapers of equal length, which he fixed in -lanterns—an expedient suited to that rude age, when the geometry of -dialing and the mechanism of clocks and watches were entirely unknown. -And by such a regular distribution of his time, though he often labored -under great bodily infirmities, this martial hero who fought in person -fifty-six battles by sea and land, was able, during a life of no -extraordinary length, to acquire more knowledge, and even to compose -more books, than most studious men, though blessed with greatest leisure -and application, have in more fortunate ages made the object of their -uninterrupted industry. And he deemed it no wise derogatory from his -other great characters of sovereign, legislator, warrior, and politician -thus to lead the way to his people in the pursuit of literature.</p> - -<p>He invited from all quarters industrious foreigners to repeople his -country, which had been desolated by the ravages of the Danes. He -introduced and encouraged manufactures of all kinds, and no inventor or -improver of any ingenious art did he suffer to go unrewarded. He -prompted men of activity to betake themselves to navigation, to push -commerce into the most remote countries, and to acquire riches by -propagating industry among their fellow-citizens. He set apart a seventh -portion of his own revenue for maintaining a number of workmen, whom he -constantly employed in rebuilding the ruined cities, castles, palaces, -and monasteries. Even the elegancies of life were brought to him from -the Mediterranean and the Indies; and his subjects, by seeing those -productions of the peaceful arts, were taught to respect the virtues of -justice and industry, from which alone they could rise. Both living and -dead Alfred was regarded by foreigners, no less than by his own -subjects, as the greatest prince after Charlemagne that appeared in -Europe during several ages, and as one of the wisest and best that had -ever adorned the annals of any nation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="OLAF_TRYGGVESON_KING_OF_NORWAY" id="OLAF_TRYGGVESON_KING_OF_NORWAY"></a>OLAF TRYGGVESON, KING OF NORWAY.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS CARLYLE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Earliest of the Norwegian kings who succeeded in implanting -Christianity in the soil of Norse paganism. Exact date of birth -unknown; died 1000 <small>A.D.</small> Son of Tryggve, a former under-king, or -jarl, of Norway, slain by Hakon Jarl, who had usurped the supreme -power about 975. Olaf spent his early years as a sea-rover, and -became the most celebrated viking of his age. He conquered and slew -Hakon in 995, and became king. During his reign of five years he -revolutionized his kingdom. He lost his life in a great sea-battle -with the combined fleets of Denmark and Norway. The facts of his -career are mostly drawn from the saga of Snorro Sturleson.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tryggveson</span> made a stout and, in effect, victorious and glorious struggle -for himself as king. Daily and hourly vigilant to do so, often enough by -soft and even merry methods—for he was a witty, jocund man, and had a -fine ringing laugh in him, and clear, pregnant words ever ready—or, if -soft methods would not serve, then by hard and even hardest he put down -a great deal of miscellaneous anarchy in Norway, was especially busy -against heathenism (devil-worship and its rites); this, indeed, may be -called the focus and heart of all his royal endeavor in Norway, and of -all the troubles he now had with his people there. For this was a -serious, vital, all-comprehending matter; devil-worship, a thing not to -be tolerated one moment longer than you could by any method help! Olaf’s -success was intermittent, of varying complexion, but his effort, swift -or slow, was strong and continual, and, on the whole, he did succeed. -Take a sample of that wonderful conversion process:</p> - -<p>Once, in beginning a parliamentary address, so soon as he came to touch -upon Christianity the Bonders rose in murmurs, in vociferations and -jingling of arms, which quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span> drowned the royal voice; declared they -had taken arms against King Hakon the Good to compel him to desist from -his Christian proposals, and they did not think King Olaf a higher man -than him (Hakon the Good). The king then said, “He purposed coming to -them next Yule to their great sacrificial feast to see for himself what -their customs were,” which pacified the Bonders for this time. The -appointed place of meeting was again a Hakon-Jarl Temple, not yet done -to ruin, chief shrine in those Trondhjem parts, I believe; there should -Tryggveson appear at Yule. Well, but before Yule came, Tryggveson made a -great banquet in his palace at Trondhjem, and invited far and wide all -manner of important persons out of the district as guests there. Banquet -hardly done, Tryggveson gave some slight signal, upon which armed men -strode in, seized eleven of these principal persons, and the king said: -“Since he himself was to become a heathen again and do sacrifice, it was -his purpose to do it in the highest form, namely, that of human -sacrifice, and this time not of slaves and malefactors, but of the best -men in the country!” In which stringent circumstances the eleven seized -persons and company at large gave unanimous consent to baptism, -straightway received the same, and abjured their idols, but were not -permitted to go home till they had left, in sons, brothers, and other -precious relatives, sufficient hostages in the king’s hands.</p> - -<p>By unwearied industry of this and better kinds, Tryggveson had trampled -down idolatry so far as form went—how far in substance may be greatly -doubted. But it is to be remembered withal that always on the back of -these compulsory adventures there followed English bishops, priests, and -preachers, whereby to the open-minded conviction, to all degrees of it, -was attainable, while silence and passivity became the duty or necessity -of the unconvinced party. In about two years Norway was all gone over -with a rough harrow of conversion. Heathenism, at least, constrained to -be silent and outwardly conformable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span></p> - -<p>Olaf Tryggveson, though his kingdom was the smallest of the Norse three, -had risen to a renown over all the Norse world, which neither he of -Denmark nor he of Sweden could pretend to rival. A magnificent, -far-shining man, more expert in all “bodily exercises,” as the Norse -called them, than any man had ever been before him or after was. Could -keep five daggers in the air, always catching the proper fifth by its -handle, and sending it aloft again; could shoot supremely, throw a -javelin with either hand; and, in fact, in battle usually threw two -together. These, with swimming, climbing, leaping, were the then -admirable fine arts of the North, in all which Tryggveson appears to -have been the Raphael and the Michael Angelo at once. Essentially -definable, too, if we look well into him, as a wild bit of real heroism -in such rude guise and environment—a high, true, and great human soul. -A jovial burst of laughter in him withal; a bright, airy, wise way of -speech; dressed beautifully and with care; a man admired and loved -exceedingly by those he liked; dreaded as death by those he did not -like. “Hardly any king,” says Snorro, “was ever so well obeyed; by one -class out of zeal and love, by the rest out of dread.” His glorious -course, however, was not to last long.</p> - -<p>Tryggveson had already ships and navies that were the wonder of the -North. Especially in building war-ships—the Crane, the Serpent, last of -all, the Long Serpent—he had, for size, for outward beauty, and inward -perfection of equipment, transcended all example.</p> - -<p>A new sea expedition undertaken by Olaf became an object of attention to -all neighbors; especially Queen Sigrid the Proud and Svein -Double-Beard,<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> her now king, were attentive to it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span></p> - -<p>“This insolent Tryggveson,” Queen Sigrid would often say, and had long -been saying, to her Svein, “to marry thy sister without leave had or -asked of thee; and now flaunting forth his war navies as if he, king -only of paltry Norway, were the big hero of the North! Why do you suffer -it, you kings really great?”</p> - -<p>By such persuasions and reiterations King Svein of Denmark, King Olaf of -Sweden, and Jarl Eric, now a great man there, grown rich by prosperous -sea-robbery and other good management, were brought to take the matter -up, and combine strenuously for destruction of King Olaf Tryggveson on -this grand Wendland expedition of his.</p> - -<p>King Olaf Tryggveson, unacquainted with all this, sailed away in summer -with his splendid fleet, went through the belts with prosperous winds, -under bright skies, to the admiration of both shores. Such a fleet, with -its shining Serpents, long and short, and perfection of equipment and -appearance, the Baltic never saw before.</p> - -<p>Olaf’s chief captains, seeing the enemy’s fleet come out and how the -matter lay, strongly advised King Olaf to elude this stroke of -treachery, and with all sail hold on his course, fight being now on so -unequal terms. Snorro says the king, high on the quarter-deck where he -stood, replied: “Strike the sails! never shall men of mine think of -flight. I never fled from battle. Let God dispose of my life; but flight -I will never take!” And so the battle arrangements immediately began, -and the battle with all fury went loose, and lasted hour after hour till -almost sunset, if I well recollect. “Olaf stood on the Serpent’s -quarter-deck,” says Snorro, “high over the others. He had a gilt shield -and a helmet inlaid with gold; over his armor he had a short red coat, -and was easily distinguished from other men.”</p> - -<p>The Danish fleet, the Swedish fleet, were both of them quickly dealt -with, and successively withdrew out of shotrange. And then Jarl Eric -came up and fiercely grappled<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span> with the Long Serpent, or rather with her -surrounding comrades, and gradually, as they were beaten empty of men, -with the Long Serpent herself. The fight grew ever fiercer, more -furious. Eric was supplied with new men from the Swedes and Danes; Olaf -had no such resource, except from the crews of his own beaten ships; and -at length this also failed him, all his ships, except the Long Serpent, -being beaten and emptied. Olaf fought on unyielding. Eric twice boarded -him, was twice repulsed. Olaf kept his quarter-deck, unconquerable, -though left now more and more hopeless, fatally short of help. A tall -young man, called Einar Tamberskelver, very celebrated and important -afterward in Norway, and already the best archer known, kept busy with -his bow. Twice he nearly shot Jarl Eric in his ship. “Shoot me that -man!” said Jarl Eric to a bowman near him; and, just as Tamberskelver -was drawing his bow the third time, an arrow hit it in the middle and -broke it in two. “What is this that has broken?” asked King Olaf. -“Norway from thy hand, king,” answered Tamberskelver. Tryggveson’s men, -he observed with surprise, were striking violently on Eric’s, but to no -purpose; nobody fell. “How is this?” asked Tryggveson. “Our swords are -notched and blunted, king; they do not cut.” Olaf stepped down to his -arm-chest, delivered out new swords, and it was observed, as he did it, -blood ran trickling from his wrist, but none knew where the wound was. -Eric boarded a third time. Olaf, left with hardly more than one man, -sprang overboard (one sees that red coat of his still glancing in the -evening sun), and sank in the deep waters to his long rest.</p> - -<p>Rumor ran among his people that he still was not dead; grounding on some -movement by the ships of that traitorous Sigwald, they fancied Olaf had -dived beneath the keels of his enemies, and got away with Sigwald, as -Sigwald himself evidently did. “Much was hoped, supposed, spoken,” says -one old mourning Skald; “but the truth was, Olaf Trygg<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span>veson was never -seen in Norseland more.” Strangely he remains still a shining figure to -us—the wildly beautifulest man in body and in soul that one has ever -heard of in the North.</p> - -<h2><a name="CANUTE" id="CANUTE"></a>CNUT OR CANUTE OF ENGLAND, ALSO KING OF DENMARK.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Date of birth uncertain, died 1035 or 1036. He succeeded to the -command of the Danish invaders of England on the death of his -father Svein, and on the death of Eadmund Ironsides, the Saxon -king, he became the acknowledged King of England in 1017. His -exercise of power was marked by great qualities of justice, -ability, and devotion to the interests of his acquired kingdom; and -his name has been transmitted in history as a worthy successor of -the Great Alfred.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> first of our foreign masters was the Dane. The countries of -Scandinavia which had so long been the mere starting points of the -pirate bands who had ravaged England and Ireland had now settled down -into comparative order. It was the aim of Svein to unite them in a great -Scandinavian Empire, of which England should be the head; and this -project, interrupted for a time by his death, was resumed with yet -greater vigor by his son Cnut. Fear of the Dane was still great in the -land, and Cnut had no sooner appeared off the English coast than Wessex, -Mercia, and Northumberland joined in owning him for their lord, and in -discarding again the rule of Æthelred, who had returned on the death of -Svein. When Æthelred’s death in 1016 raised his son Eadmund Ironside to -the throne, the loyalty of London enabled him to struggle bravely for a -few months against the Danes; but a decisive victory at Assandun and the -death of his rival left Cnut master of the realm. Conqueror as he was, -the Dane was no foreigner in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span> sense that the Norman was a foreigner -after him. His language differed little from the English tongue. He -brought in no new system of tenure or government. Cnut ruled, in fact, -not as a foreign conqueror but as a native king. The good-will and -tranquillity of England were necessary for the success of his larger -schemes in the north, where the arms of his English subjects aided him -in later years in uniting Denmark and Norway beneath his sway.</p> - -<p>Dismissing, therefore, his Danish “host,” and retaining only a trained -body of household troops or hus-carls to serve in sudden emergencies, -Cnut boldly relied for support within his realm on the justice and good -government he secured it. His aim during twenty years seems to have been -to obliterate from men’s minds the foreign character of his rule, and -the bloodshed in which it had begun. The change in himself was as -startling as the change in his policy. When he first appears in England, -it is as the mere northman, passionate, revengeful, uniting the guile of -the savage with his thirst for blood. His first acts of government were -a series of murders. Eadric of Mercia, whose aid had given him the -crown, was felled by an axe-blow at the king’s signal; a murder removed -Eadwig, the brother of Eadmund Ironside, while the children of Eadmund -were hunted even into Hungary by his ruthless hate. But from a savage -such as this Cnut rose suddenly into a wise and temperate king. Stranger -as he was, he fell back on “Eadgar’s law,” on the old constitution of -the realm, and owned no difference between conqueror and conquered, -between Dane and Englishman. By the creation of four earldoms—those of -Mercia, Northumberland, Wessex, and East Anglia—he recognized -provincial independence, but he drew closer than of old the ties which -bound the rulers of these great dependencies to the Crown. He even -identified himself with the patriotism which had withstood the stranger. -The Church had been the center of national resistance to the Dane, but -Cnut sought above all its friendship. He paid homage to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span> cause for -which Ælfheah had died, by his translation of the archbishop’s body to -Canterbury. He atoned for his father’s ravages by costly gifts to the -religious houses. He protected English pilgrims against the robber-lords -of the Alps. His love for monks broke out in the song which he composed -as he listened to their chant at Ely: “Merrily sang the monks in Ely -when Cnut King rowed by” across the vast fen-waters that surrounded -their abbey. “Row, boatmen, near the land, and hear we these monks -sing.”</p> - -<p>Cnut’s letter from Rome to his English subjects marks the grandeur of -his character and the noble conception he had formed of kingship. “I -have vowed to God to lead a right life in all things,” wrote the king, -“to rule justly and piously my realms and subjects, and to administer -just judgment to all. If heretofore I have done aught beyond what was -just, through headiness or negligence of youth, I am ready with God’s -help to amend it utterly.” No royal officer, either for fear of the king -or for favor of any, is to consent to injustice, none is to do wrong to -rich or poor “as they would value my friendship and their own -well-being.” He especially denounces unfair exactions: “I have no need -that money be heaped together for me by unjust demands.” “I have sent -this letter before me,” Cnut ends, “that all the people of my realm may -rejoice in my well-doing; for, as you yourselves know, never have I -spared nor will I spare to spend myself and my toil in what is needful -and good for my people.”</p> - -<p>Cnut’s greatest gift to his people was that of peace. With him began the -long internal tranquillity which was from this time to be the special -note of our national history. During two hundred years, with the one -terrible interval of the Norman Conquest, and the disturbance under -Stephen, England alone among the kingdoms of Europe enjoyed unbroken -repose. The wars of her kings lay far from her shores, in France or -Normandy, or, as with Cnut, in the more distant lands of the north. The -stern justice of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span> government secured order within. The absence of -internal discontent under Cnut—perhaps, too, the exhaustion of the -kingdom after the terrible Danish inroads—is proved by its quiet during -his periods of absence. Everything witnesses to the growing wealth and -prosperity of the country. A great part of English soil was, indeed, -still utterly uncultivated.</p> - -<p>Wide reaches of land were covered with wood, thicket and scrub, or -consisted of heaths and moor. In both the east and the west there were -vast tracts of marsh land; fens nearly one hundred miles long severed -East Anglia from the midland counties; sites like that of Glastonbury or -Athelney were almost inaccessible. The beaver still haunted marshy -hollows such as those which lay about Beverley, the London craftsmen -chased the wild boar and the wild ox in the woods of Hampstead, while -wolves prowled round the homesteads of the north. But peace, and the -industry it encouraged, were telling on this waste; stag and wolf were -retreating before the face of man, the farmer’s axe was ringing in the -forest, and villages were springing up in the clearings. The growth of -commerce was seen in the rich trading-ports of the eastern coast. The -main trade lay probably in skins and ropes and ship-masts; and, above -all, in the iron and steel that the Scandinavian lands so long supplied -to Britain. But Dane and Norwegian were traders over a yet wider field -than the northern seas; their barks entered the Mediterranean, while the -overland route through Russia brought the wares of Constantinople and -the East. “What do you bring to us?” the merchant is asked in an old -English dialogue. “I bring skins, silks, costly gems, and gold,” he -answers, “besides various garments, pigment, wine, oil, and ivory, with -brass and copper and tin, silver and gold, and such like.” Men from the -Rhineland and from Normandy, too, moored their vessels along the Thames, -on whose rude wharves were piled a strange medley of goods—pepper and -spices from the far East, crates of gloves and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span> gray cloths (it may be -from the Lombard looms), sacks of wool, iron-work from Liége, butts of -French wine and vinegar, and with them the rural products of the country -itself—cheese, butter, lard, and eggs, with live swine and fowls.</p> - -<p>Cnut’s one aim was to win the love of his people, and all tradition -shows how wonderful was his success. But the greatness of his rule hung -solely on the greatness of his temper, and at his death the empire he -had built up at once fell to pieces.</p> - -<h2><a name="WILLIAM_THE_CONQUEROR" id="WILLIAM_THE_CONQUEROR"></a>WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[The illegitimate son of Robert, surnamed Le Diable, duke of -Normandy, and his father’s successor, born 1027; died, 1087. -Claiming right of inheritance under a pretended bequest of Edward -the Confessor, the Saxon king of England, he levied a great army of -adventurers from all Europe, and in the great battle of Senlac, or, -as it is sometimes known, Hastings, he defeated the Saxons and -their King Harold, who had been elected by the voice of the -<i>Wittenegamotte</i>, or Great Council of England, on October 14, 1066. -Harold was slain, and the Norman conqueror was crowned. William’s -transcendent abilities as a ruler, though stained by cruelty and -rapacity, made his reign the greatest epoch in early English -history.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">William the Great</span>, as men of his own day styled him, William the -Conqueror, as by one event he stamped himself on our history, was now -Duke of Normandy. The full grandeur of his indomitable will, his large -and patient statesmanship, the loftiness of aim which lifts him out of -the petty incidents of his age, were as yet only partly disclosed. But -there never was a moment from his boyhood when he was not among the -greatest of men. His life was one long mastering of difficulty after -difficulty. The shame of his birth remained in his name of “the -Bastard.” His father, Duke Robert, had seen Arlotta, the daughter of a -tanner of the town, washing her linen in the little brook by</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_008" style="width: 457px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp120.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp120.jpg" width="457" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span></p> - -<p>Falaise, and, loving her, had made her the mother of his boy. Robert’s -departure on a pilgrimage from which he never returned left William a -child-ruler among the most turbulent baronage in Christendom, and -treason and anarchy surrounded him as he grew to manhood. Disorder broke -at last into open revolt. Surprised in his hunting-seat at Valognes by -the rising of the Bessin and Cotentin districts, in which the pirate -temper and lawlessness lingered longest, William had only time to dash -through the fords of Vire with the rebels on his track. A fierce combat -of horse on the slopes of Val-ès-dunes, to the southeastward of Caen, -left him master of the duchy, and the old Scandinavian Normandy yielded -forever to the new civilization which streamed in with French alliances -and the French tongue. William was himself a type of the transition. In -the young duke’s character the old world mingled strangely with the new, -the pirate jostled roughly with the statesman. William was the most -terrible, as he was the last outcome of the northern race.</p> - -<p>The very spirit of the “sea-wolves” who had so long “lived on the -pillage of the world” seemed embodied in his gigantic form, his enormous -strength, his savage countenance, his desperate bravery, the fury of his -wrath, the ruthlessness of his revenge. “No knight under heaven,” his -enemies confessed, “was William’s peer.” Boy as he was, horse and man -went down before his lance at Val-ès-dunes. All the fierce gayety of his -nature broke out in the chivalrous adventures of his youth, in his rout -of fifteen Angevins with but five soldiers at his back, in his defiant -ride over the ground which Geoffry Martel claimed from him—a ride with -hawk on fist as though war and the chase were one. No man could bend his -bow. His mace crashed its way through a ring of English warriors to the -foot of the standard. He rose to his greatest heights in moments when -other men despaired. His voice rang out like a trumpet to rally his -soldiers as they fled before the English charge at Senlac.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span> In his -winter march on Chester he strode afoot at the head of his fainting -troops, and helped with his own hands to clear a road through the -snowdrifts. With the northman’s daring broke out the northman’s -pitilessness. When the townsmen of Alençon hung raw hides along their -walls in scorn of the baseness of his birth, with cries of “Work for the -tanner!” William tore out his prisoners’ eyes, cut off their hands and -feet, and flung them into the town.</p> - -<p>At the close of his greatest victory he refused Harold’s body a grave. -Hundreds of Hampshire men were driven from their homes to make him a -hunting-ground, and his harrying of Northumbria left the north of -England a desolate waste. There is a grim, ruthless ring about his very -jests. In his old age Philip of France mocked at the Conqueror’s -unwieldy bulk and at the sickness which confined him to his bed at -Rouen. “King William has as long a lying-in,” laughed his enemy, “as a -woman behind her curtains!” “When I get up,” swore William, “I will go -to mass in Philip’s land, and bring a rich offering for my churching. I -will offer a thousand candles for my fee. Flaming brands shall they be, -and steel shall glitter over the fire they make.” At harvest-tide town -and hamlet flaring into ashes along the French border fulfilled the -Conqueror’s vow. There is the same savage temper in the loneliness of -his life. He recked little of men’s love or hate. His grim look, his -pride, his silence, his wild outbursts of passion, spread terror through -his court. “So stark and fierce was he,” says the English chronicler, -“that none dared resist his will.” His graciousness to Anselm only -brought out into stronger relief the general harshness of his tone. His -very wrath was solitary. “To no man spake he, and no man dared speak to -him,” when the news reached him of Harold’s accession to the throne. It -was only when he passed from the palace to the loneliness of the woods -that the king’s temper unbent. “He loved the wild deer as though he had -been their father. Whosoever should slay hart or hind man should blind -him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span>” Death itself took its color from the savage solitude of his life. -Priests and nobles fled as the last breath left him, and the Conqueror’s -body lay naked and lonely on the floor.</p> - -<p>It is not to his victory at Senlac, but to the struggle which followed -his return from Normandy, that William owes his title of the -“Conqueror.” The struggle which ended in the fens of Ely had wholly -changed William’s position. He no longer held the land merely as elected -king; he added to his elective right the right of conquest. The system -of government which he originated was, in fact, the result of the double -character of his power. It represented neither the purely feudal system -of the Continent nor the system of the older English royalty. More -truly, perhaps, it may be said to have represented both. As the -successor of Eadward, William retained the judicial and administrative -organization of the older English realm. As the conqueror of England he -introduced the military organization of feudalism so far as was -necessary for the secure possession of his conquests. The ground was -already prepared for such an organization; we have seen the beginnings -of English feudalism in the warriors, the “companions,” or “thegns,” who -were personally attached to the king’s war-band, and received estates -from the folk-land in reward for their personal services. In later times -this feudal distribution of estates had greatly increased, as the bulk -of the nobles followed the king’s example and bound their tenants to -themselves by a similar process of subinfeudation. On the other hand, -the pure freeholders, the class which formed the basis of the original -English society, had been gradually reduced in number, partly through -imitation of the class above them, but still more through the incessant -wars and invasions which drove them to seek protectors among the thegns -at the cost of their independence. Feudalism, in fact, was superseding -the older freedom in England even before the reign of William, as it had -already superseded it in Germany or France. But the tendency was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span> -quickened and intensified by the Conquest; the desperate and universal -resistance of his English subjects forced William to hold by the sword -what the sword had won, and an army strong enough to crush at any moment -a national revolt was necessary for the preservation of his throne. Such -an army could only be maintained by a vast confiscation of the soil. The -failure of the English risings cleared the way for its establishment; -the greater part of the higher nobility fell in battle or fled into -exile, while the lower thegnhood either forfeited the whole of their -lands or redeemed a portion of them by the surrender of the rest.</p> - -<p>The dependence of the Church on the royal power was strictly enforced. -Homage was exacted from bishop as from baron. No royal tenant could be -excommunicated without the king’s leave. No synod could legislate -without his previous assent and subsequent confirmation of its decrees. -No papal letters could be received within the realm save by his -permission. William firmly repudiated the claims which were now -beginning to be put forward by the court of Rome. When Gregory VII -called on him to do fealty for his realm, the king sternly refused to -admit the claim. “Fealty I have never willed to do, nor do I will to do -it now. I have never promised it, nor do I find that my predecessors did -it to yours.”</p> - -<p>The Conquest was hardly over when the struggle between the baronage and -the crown began. The wisdom of William’s policy in the destruction of -the great earldoms which had overshadowed the throne was shown in an -attempt at their restoration made by Roger, the son of his minister, -William Fitz-Osbern, and by the Breton Ralf de Guader, whom the king had -rewarded for his services at Senlac with the earldom of Norfolk. The -rising was quickly suppressed, Roger thrown into prison, and Ralf driven -over sea; but the intrigues of the baronage soon found another leader in -William’s half-brother, the Bishop of Bayeux. Under pretense of aspiring -by arms to the papacy, Bishop Odo col<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span>lected money and men; but the -treasure was at once seized by the royal officers, and the bishop -arrested in the midst of the court. Even at the king’s bidding no -officer would venture to seize on a prelate of the Church; it was with -his own hands that William was forced to effect his arrest. “I arrest -not the bishop, but the Earl of Kent,” laughed the Conqueror, and Odo -remained a prisoner till William’s death.</p> - -<p>It was, in fact, this vigorous personality of William which proved the -chief safeguard of his throne. “Stark he was,” says the English -chronicler, “to men that withstood him. Earls that did aught against his -bidding he cast into bonds; bishops he stripped of their bishoprics, -abbots of their abbacies. He spared not his own brother; first he was in -the land, but the king cast him into bondage. If a man would live and -hold his lands, need it were that he should follow the king’s will.” -But, stern as his rule was, it gave peace to the land. Even amid the -sufferings which necessarily sprang from the circumstances of the -Conquest itself, from the erection of castles, or the inclosure of -forests, or the exactions which built up the great hoard at Winchester, -Englishmen were unable to forget “the good peace he made in the land, so -that a man might fare over his realm with a bosom full of gold.” Strange -touches of a humanity far in advance of his age contrasted with the -general temper of his government. One of the strongest traits in his -character was his aversion to shed blood by process of law; he formally -abolished the punishment of death, and only a single execution stains -the annals of his reign. An edict yet more honorable to him put an end -to the slave-trade which had till then been carried on at the port of -Bristol. The pitiless warrior, the stern and awful king was a tender and -faithful husband, an affectionate father. The lonely silence of his -bearing broke into gracious converse with pure and sacred souls like -Anselm. If William was “stark” to rebel and baron, men noted that he was -“mild to those that loved God.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a name="ROBERT_GUISCARD" id="ROBERT_GUISCARD"></a>ROBERT GUISCARD.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born about 1015, died 1085. This Norman adventurer, the sixth son -of a small baron, became Duke of Apulia and Calabria in Italy by -conquest, and founded the Kingdom of Naples, which existed till -1860. Equally distinguished by personal prowess, generalship, and -diplomatic astuteness, he filled a large figure in the affairs of -his time, and was one of the stoutest bulwarks against Saracenic -aggression.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> pedigree of Robert Guiscard is variously deduced from the peasants -and the dukes of Normandy—from the peasants, by the pride and ignorance -of a Grecian princess; from the dukes, by the ignorance and flattery of -the Italian subjects. His genuine descent may be ascribed to the second -or middle order of private nobility. He sprang from a race of -<i>valvassors</i> or <i>bannerets</i>, of the diocese of Coutances, in the lower -Normandy; the castle of Hauteville was their honorable seat, his father -Tancred was conspicuous in the court and army of the duke, and his -military service was furnished by ten soldiers or knights. Two -marriages, of a rank not unworthy of his own, made him the father of -twelve sons, who were educated at home by the impartial tenderness of -his second wife. But a narrow patrimony was insufficient for this -numerous and daring progeny; they saw around the neighborhood the -mischiefs of poverty and discord, and resolved to seek in foreign wars a -more glorious inheritance. Two only remained to perpetuate the race and -cherish their father’s age; their ten brothers, as they successively -attained the vigor of manhood, departed from the castle, passed the -Alps, and joined the Apulian camp of the Normans.</p> - -<p>The elder were prompted by native spirit; their success encouraged their -younger brethren, and the three first in seniority—William, Drogo, and -Humphrey—deserved to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span> the chiefs of their nation and the founders of -the new republic. Robert was the eldest of the seven sons of the second -marriage, and even the reluctant praise of his foes has endowed him with -the heroic qualities of a soldier and a statesman. His lofty stature -surpassed the tallest of his army; his limbs were cast in the true -proportion of strength and gracefulness, and to the decline of life he -maintained the patient vigor of health and the commanding dignity of his -form. His complexion was ruddy, his shoulders were broad, his hair and -beard were long and of a flaxen color, his eyes sparkled with fire, and -his voice, like that of Achilles, could impress obedience and terror -amid the tumult of battle. In the ruder ages of chivalry such -qualifications are not below the notice of the poet or historian. They -may observe that Robert at once, and with equal dexterity, could wield -in the right hand his sword, his lance in the left; that in the battle -of Civitella he was thrice unhorsed, and that in the close of that -memorable day he was adjudged to have borne away the prize of valor from -the warriors of the two armies. His boundless ambition was founded on -the consciousness of superior worth; in the pursuit of greatness he was -never arrested by the scruples of justice, and seldom moved by the -feelings of humanity. Though not insensible of fame, the choice of open -or clandestine means was determined only by his present advantage. The -surname of <i>Guiscard</i><a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> was applied to this master of political -wisdom, which is too often confounded with the practice of dissimulation -and deceit; and Robert is praised by the Apulian poet for excelling the -cunning of Ulysses and the eloquence of Cicero. Yet these arts were -disguised by an appearance of military frankness; in his highest fortune -he was accessible and courteous to his fellow-soldiers, and, while he -indulged the prejudices of his new subjects, he affected in his dress -and manners to maintain the ancient fashion of his country.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span></p> - -<p>He grasped with a rapacious, that he might distribute with a liberal -hand; his primitive indigence had taught the habits of frugality; the -gain of a merchant was not below his attention, and his prisoners were -tortured with slow and unfeeling cruelty to force a discovery of their -secret treasure. According to the Greeks, he departed from Normandy with -only five followers on horseback and thirty on foot; yet even this -allowance appears too bountiful. The sixth son of Tancred of Hauteville -passed the Alps as a pilgrim, and his first military band was levied -among the adventurers of Italy. His brothers and countrymen had divided -the fertile lands of Apulia, but they guarded their shares with the -jealousy of avarice; the aspiring youth was driven forward to the -mountains of Calabria, and in his first exploits against the Greeks and -the natives it is not easy to discriminate the hero from the robber. To -surprise a castle or a convent, to ensnare a wealthy citizen, to plunder -the adjacent villages for necessary food, were the obscure labors which -formed and exercised the powers of his mind and body. The volunteers of -Normandy adhered to his standard; and, under his command, the peasants -of Calabria assumed the name and character of Normans.</p> - -<p>As the genius of Robert expanded with his fortune, he awakened the -jealousy of his elder brother, by whom, in a transient quarrel, his life -was threatened and his liberty restrained. After the death of Humphrey -the tender age of his sons excluded them from the command; they were -reduced to a private estate by the ambition of their guardian and uncle, -and Guiscard was exalted on a buckler and saluted Count of Apulia and -general of the republic. With an increase of authority and of force he -resumed the conquest of Calabria, and soon aspired to a rank that should -raise him forever above the heads of his equals. By some acts of rapine -or sacrilege he had incurred a papal excommunication, but Nicholas II -was easily persuaded that the divisions of friends could terminate only -in their mutual<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span> prejudice; that the Normans were the faithful champions -of the Holy See, and it was safer to trust the alliance of a prince than -the caprice of an aristocracy. A synod of one hundred bishops was -convened at Melphi, and the count interrupted an important enterprise to -guard the person and execute the decrees of the Roman pontiff. His -gratitude and policy conferred on Robert and his posterity the ducal -title, with the investiture of Apulia, Calabria, and all the lands, both -in Italy and Sicily, which his sword could rescue from the schismatic -Greeks and the unbelieving Saracens. This apostolic sanction might -justify his arms, but the obedience of a free and victorious people -could not be transferred without their consent, and Guiscard dissembled -his elevation till the ensuing campaign had been illustrated by the -conquest of Consenza and Reggio. In the hour of triumph he assembled his -troops, and solicited the Normans to confirm by their suffrage the -judgment of the vicar of Christ; the soldiers hailed with joyful -acclamations their valiant duke, and the counts, his former equals, -pronounced the oath of fidelity with hollow smiles and secret -indignation.</p> - -<p>After this inauguration Robert styled himself, “by the grace of God and -St. Peter, Duke of Apulia, Calabria, and hereafter of Sicily”; and it -was the labor of twenty years to deserve and realize these lofty -appellations. Such tardy progress in a narrow space may seem unworthy of -the abilities of the chief and the spirit of the nation, but the Normans -were few in number, their resources were scanty, their service was -voluntary and precarious. The bravest designs of the duke were sometimes -opposed by the free voice of his parliament of barons; the twelve counts -of popular election conspired against his authority, and against their -perfidious uncle the sons of Humphrey demanded justice and revenge. By -his policy and vigor Guiscard discovered their plots, suppressed their -rebellions, and punished the guilty with death or exile; but in these -domestic feuds his years and the national strength were unprofitably -con<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span>sumed. After the defeat of his foreign enemies—the Greeks, -Lombards, and Saracens—their broken forces retreated to the strong and -populous cities of the sea-coast. They excelled in the arts of -fortification and defense; the Normans were accustomed to serve on -horseback in the field, and their rude attempts could only succeed by -the efforts of persevering courage. The resistance of Salerno was -maintained above eight months; the siege or blockade of Bari lasted -nearly four years. In these actions the Norman duke was the foremost in -every danger; in every fatigue the last and most patient. As he pressed -the citadel of Salerno a huge stone from the rampart shattered one of -his military engines, and by a splinter he was wounded in the breast. -Before the gates of Bari he lodged in a miserable hut or barrack, -composed of dry branches, and thatched with straw—a perilous station, -on all sides open to the inclemency of the winter and the spears of the -enemy.</p> - -<p>The Italian conquests of Robert correspond with the limits of the -present kingdom of Naples, and the countries united by his arms have not -been dissevered by the revolutions of seven hundred years.</p> - -<h2><a name="THOMAS_A_BECKET_ARCHBISHOP_OF_CANTERBURY" id="THOMAS_A_BECKET_ARCHBISHOP_OF_CANTERBURY"></a>THOMAS À BECKET, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By</span> DAVID HUME.</small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born in 1119, died by assassination in the Cathedral Church of -Canterbury in 1170. For a long time the Chancellor of England and -favorite adviser of the king, Henry II, he became on his -installation as archbishop the resolute advocate of papal -aggression against the rights and claims of the English kings to -the supreme control of national affairs.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Thomas à Becket</span>, the first man of English descent who, since the Norman -conquest, had, during the course of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span> a whole century, risen to any -considerable station, was born of reputable parents in the city of -London; and being endowed both with industry and capacity, he early -insinuated himself into the favor of Archbishop Theobald, and obtained -from that prelate some preferments and offices. By their means he was -enabled to travel for improvement to Italy, where he studied the civil -and canon law at Bologna; and on his return, he appeared to have made -such proficiency in knowledge that he was promoted by his patron to the -Archdeaconry of Canterbury, an office of considerable trust and profit. -He was afterward employed with success by Theobald in transacting -business at Rome; and, on Henry’s accession, he was recommended to that -monarch as worthy of further preferment. Henry, who knew that Becket had -been instrumental in supporting that resolution of the archbishop which -had tended so much to facilitate his own advancement to the throne, was -already prepossessed in his favor; and finding, on further acquaintance, -that his spirit and abilities entitled him to any trust, he soon -promoted him to the dignity of chancellor, one of the first civil -offices in the kingdom. The chancellor, in that age, beside the custody -of the great seal, had possession of all vacant prelacies and abbeys; he -was the guardian of all such minors and pupils as were the king’s -tenants; all baronies which escheated to the crown were under his -administration; he was entitled to a place in council, even though he -were not particularly summoned; and as he exercised also the office of -secretary of state, and it belonged to him to countersign all -commissions, writs, and letters patent, he was a kind of prime minister, -and was concerned in the dispatch of every business of importance. -Besides exercising this high office, Becket, by the favor of the king or -archbishop, was made Provost of Beverley, Dean of Hastings, and -Constable of the Tower; he was put in possession of the honors of Eye -and Berkham, large baronies that had escheated to the crown; and, to -complete his grandeur, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span> was intrusted with the education of Prince -Henry, the king’s eldest son and heir of the monarchy.</p> - -<p>The pomp of his retinue, the sumptuousness of his furniture, the luxury -of his table, the munificence of his presents, corresponded to these -great preferments; or rather exceeded anything that England had ever -before seen in any subject. His historian and secretary, Fitz-Stephens, -mentions, among other particulars, that his apartments were every day in -winter covered with clean straw or hay, and in summer with green rushes -or boughs, lest the gentlemen who paid court to him, and who could not, -by reason of their great number, find a place at table, should soil -their fine clothes by sitting on a dirty floor. A great number of -knights were retained in his service; the greatest barons were proud of -being received at his table; his house was a place of education for the -sons of the chief nobility; and the king himself frequently vouchsafed -to partake of his entertainments. As his way of life was splendid and -opulent, his amusements and occupations were gay, and partook of the -cavalier spirit, which, as he had only taken deacon’s orders, he did not -think unbefitting his character. He employed himself at leisure hours in -hunting, hawking, gaming, and horsemanship; he exposed his person in -several military actions; he carried over, at his own charge, seven -hundred knights to attend the king in his wars at Toulouse; in the -subsequent wars on the frontiers of Normandy he maintained, during forty -days, twelve hundred knights, and four thousand of their train; and in -an embassy to France with which he was intrusted he astonished that -court with the number and magnificence of his retinue.</p> - -<p>Becket, who, by his complaisance and good humor, had rendered himself -agreeable, and by his industry and abilities useful, to his master, -appeared to him the fittest person for supplying the vacancy made by the -death of Theobald. As he was well acquainted with the king’s intentions -of retrenching, or rather confining within the ancient bounds,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span> all -ecclesiastical privileges, and always showed a ready disposition to -comply with them, Henry, who never expected any resistance from that -quarter, immediately issued orders for electing him Archbishop of -Canterbury. But this resolution, which was taken contrary to the opinion -of Matilda and many of the ministers, drew after it very unhappy -consequences; and never prince of so great penetration appeared, in the -issue, to have so little understood the genius and character of his -minister.</p> - -<p>No sooner was Becket installed in this high dignity, which rendered him -for life the second person in the kingdom, with some pretentions of -aspiring to be the first, than he totally altered his demeanor and -conduct, and endeavored to acquire the character of sanctity, of which -his former busy and ostentatious course of life might, in the eyes of -the people, have naturally bereaved him. Without consulting the king, he -immediately returned into his hands the commission of chancellor, -pretending that he must thenceforth detach himself from secular affairs -and be solely employed in the exercise of his spiritual function, but in -reality, that he might break off all connections with Henry, and apprise -him that Becket, as Primate of England, was now become entirely a new -personage. He maintained in his retinue and attendants alone his ancient -pomp and luster, which was useful to strike the vulgar; in his own -person he affected the greatest austerity and most rigid mortification, -which, he was sensible, would have an equal or a greater tendency to the -same end. He wore sackcloth next his skin, which, by his affected care -to conceal it, was necessarily the more remarked by all the world; he -changed it so seldom, that it was filled with dirt and vermin; his usual -diet was bread, his drink water, which he even rendered further -unpalatable by the mixture of unsavory herbs; he tore his back with the -frequent discipline which he inflicted on it; he daily on his knees -washed, in imitation of Christ, the feet of thirteen beggars, whom he -afterward dismissed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span> with presents; he gained the affection of the monks -by his frequent charities to the convents and hospitals; every one who -made profession of sanctity was admitted to his conversation, and -returned full of panegyrics on the humility as well as on the piety and -mortification of the holy primate; he seemed to be perpetually employed -in reciting prayers and pious lectures, or in perusing religious -discourses; his aspect wore the appearance of seriousness and mental -recollection and secret devotion; and all men of penetration plainly saw -that he was meditating some great design, and that the ambition and -ostentation of his character had turned itself toward a new and more -dangerous object.</p> - -<p>Four gentlemen of the king’s household, Reginald Fitz-Urse, William de -Traci, Hugh de Moreville, and Richard Brito, taking certain passionate -expressions to be a hint for Becket’s death, immediately communicated -their thoughts to each other, and, swearing to avenge their prince’s -quarrel, secretly withdrew from court. Some menacing expressions which -they had dropped gave a suspicion of their design, and the king -dispatched a messenger after them, charging them to attempt nothing -against the person of the primate; but these orders arrived too late to -prevent their fatal purpose. The four assassins, though they took -different roads to England, arrived nearly about the same time at -Saltwoode, near Canterbury, and being there joined by some assistants -they proceeded in great haste to the archiepiscopal palace. They found -the primate, who trusted entirely to the sacredness of his character, -very slenderly attended; and, though they threw out many menaces and -reproaches against him, he was so incapable of fear that, without using -any precautions against their violence, he immediately went to St. -Benedict’s Church to hear vespers. They followed him thither, attacked -him before the altar, and having cloven his head with many blows retired -without meeting any opposition. This was the tragical end of Thomas à -Becket, a prelate of the most lofty, intrepid, and inflexible spirit, -who<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">{135}</a></span> was able to cover to the world, and probably to himself, the -enterprises of pride and ambition under the disguise of sanctity and of -zeal for the interests of religion: an extraordinary personage, surely, -had he been allowed to remain in his first station, and had directed the -vehemence of his character to the support of law and justice, instead of -being engaged, by the prejudices of the times, to sacrifice all private -duties and public connections to ties which he imagined or represented -as superior to every civil and political consideration. But no man who -enters into the genius of that age can reasonably doubt of this -prelate’s sincerity.</p> - -<h2><a name="SALADIN" id="SALADIN"></a>SALADIN.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By</span> EDWARD GIBBON.</small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[<span class="smcap">Malek al-Nasir Salah ed-Din Abu Modhafer Yusuf</span>, Sultan of Egypt -and Syria, born 1137, died 1193. Of Kurdish descent he finally rose -from a subordinate rank to royal power. His name stands embalmed in -history and tradition as the most noble and chivalrous of those -Saracen rulers whom the Christian powers fought against during the -Crusades.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> hilly country beyond the Tigris is occupied by the pastoral tribes -of the Kurds, a people hardy, strong, savage, impatient of the yoke, -addicted to rapine, and tenacious of the government of their national -chiefs. The resemblance of name, situation, and manners, seems to -identify them with the Carduchians of the Greeks; and they still defend -against the Ottoman Porte the antique freedom which they asserted -against the successors of Cyrus. Poverty and ambition prompted them to -embrace the profession of mercenary soldiers; the service of his father -and uncle prepared the reign of the great Saladin, and the son of Job or -Ayub, a simple Kurd, magnanimously smiled at his pedigree, which -flattery deduced from the Arabian caliphs. So unconscious was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">{136}</a></span> Noureddin -of the impending ruin of his house that he constrained the reluctant -youth to follow his Uncle Shiracouh into Egypt; his military character -was established by the defense of Alexandria, and, if we may believe the -Latins, he solicited and obtained from the Christian general the -<i>profane</i> honors of knighthood. On the death of Shiracouh, the office of -grand vizier was bestowed on Saladin, as the youngest and least powerful -of the emirs; but with the advice of his father, whom he invited to -Cairo, his genius obtained the ascendant over his equals, and attached -the army to his person and interest. While Noureddin lived, these -ambitious Kurds were the most humble of his slaves; and the indiscreet -murmurs of the divan were silenced by the prudent Ayub, who loudly -protested that at the command of the sultan he himself would lead his -son in chains to the foot of the throne. “Such language,” he added in -private, “was prudent and proper in an assembly of your rivals; but we -are now above fear and obedience, and the threats of Noureddin shall not -extort the tribute of a sugar-cane.” His seasonable death relieved them -from the odious and doubtful conflict; his son, a minor of eleven years -of age, was left for a while to the emirs of Damascus, and the new lord -of Egypt was decorated by the caliph with every title that could -sanctify his usurpation in the eyes of the people.</p> - -<p>Nor was Saladin long content with the possession of Egypt; he despoiled -the Christians of Jerusalem, and the Atabeks of Damascus, Aleppo, and -Diarbekir; Mecca and Medina acknowledged him for their temporal -protector; his brother subdued the distant regions of Yemen, or the -happy Arabia; and at the hour of his death, his empire was spread from -the African Tripoli to the Tigris, and from the Indian Ocean to the -mountains of Armenia. In the judgment of his character, the reproaches -of treason and ingratitude strike forcibly on <i>our</i> minds, impressed, as -they are, with the principle and experience of law and loyalty. But his -ambition may in some measure be excused by the revolutions of Asia,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">{137}</a></span> -which had erased every notion of legitimate succession; by the recent -example of the Atabeks themselves; by his reverence to the son of his -benefactor, his humane and generous behavior to the collateral branches; -by <i>their</i> incapacity and <i>his</i> merit; by the approbation of the caliph, -the sole source of all legitimate power; and, above all, by the wishes -and interest of the people, whose happiness is the first object of -government. In <i>his</i> virtues, and in those of his patron, they admired -the singular union of the hero and the saint; for both Noureddin and -Saladin are ranked among the Mahometan saints; and the constant -meditation of the holy war appears to have shed a serious and sober -color over their lives and actions.</p> - -<p>The youth of the latter was addicted to wine and women, but his aspiring -spirit soon renounced the temptations of pleasure for the graver follies -of fame and dominion. The garment of Saladin was of coarse woolen, water -was his only drink, and while he emulated the temperance, he surpassed -the chastity of his Arabian prophet. Both in faith and practice he was a -rigid Mussulman; he ever deplored that the defense of religion had not -allowed him to accomplish the pilgrimage of Mecca; but at the stated -hours, five times each day, the sultan devoutly prayed with his -brethren; the involuntary omission of fasting was scrupulously repaid, -and his perusal of the Koran on horseback between the approaching armies -may be quoted as a proof, however ostentatious, of piety and courage. -The superstitious doctrine of the sect of Shafei was the only study that -he deigned to encourage. The poets were safe in his contempt, but all -profane science was the object of his aversion, and a philosopher who -had vented some speculative novelties was seized and strangled by the -command of the royal saint. The justice of his divan was accessible to -the meanest suppliant against himself and his ministers; and it was only -for a kingdom that Saladin would deviate from the rule of equity. While -the descendants of Seljuk and Zenghi held his stirrup and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">{138}</a></span> smoothed his -garments, he was affable and patient with the meanest of his servants. -So boundless was his liberality that he distributed twelve thousand -horses at the siege of Acre; and, at the time of his death, no more than -forty-seven drachms of silver and one piece of gold coin were found in -the treasury; yet in a martial reign, the tributes were diminished, and -the wealthy citizens enjoyed without fear or danger the fruits of their -industry. Egypt, Syria, and Arabia, were adorned by the royal -foundations of hospitals, colleges, and mosques, and Cairo was fortified -with a wall and citadel; but his works were consecrated to public use, -nor did the sultan indulge himself in a garden or palace of private -luxury. In a fanatic age, himself a fanatic, the genuine virtues of -Saladin commanded the esteem of the Christians: the Emperor of Germany -gloried in his friendship, the Greek emperor solicited his alliance, and -the conquest of Jerusalem diffused, and perhaps magnified, his fame both -in the East and West.</p> - -<h2><a name="HENRY_II_KING_OF_ENGLAND" id="HENRY_II_KING_OF_ENGLAND"></a>HENRY II, KING OF ENGLAND.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By</span> DAVID HUME.</small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born 1113, died 1189. Henry was the grandson of Henry I, the -great-grandson of William the Conqueror by the distaff side, and -son of Geoffrey Plantagenet, Duke of Anjou. He was first of the -Plantagenet dynasty of English kings. His reign was brilliantly -distinguished by the further establishment of legal institutions -and a rigid regard for justice to all classes of his subjects.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Thus</span> died, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, and thirty-fifth of his -reign, the greatest prince of his time, for wisdom, virtue, and -abilities, and the most powerful in extent of dominion of all those that -had ever filled the throne of England. His character, in private as well -as in public life, is almost without a blemish, and he seems to have -possessed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">{139}</a></span> every accomplishment, both of body and mind, which makes a -man either estimable or amiable. He was of a middle stature, strong and -well proportioned; his countenance was lively and engaging; his -conversation affable and entertaining; his elocution easy, persuasive, -and ever at command. He loved peace, but possessed both bravery and -conduct in war, was provident without timidity, severe in the execution -of justice without rigor, and temperate without austerity. He preserved -health, and kept himself from corpulency, to which he was somewhat -inclined, by an abstemious diet and by frequent exercise, particularly -hunting. When he could enjoy leisure, he recreated himself either in -learned conversation or in reading, and he cultivated his natural -talents by study above any prince of his time. His affections, as well -as his enmities, were warm and durable, and his long experience of the -ingratitude and infidelity of men never destroyed the natural -sensibility of his temper, which disposed him to friendship and society. -His character has been transmitted to us by several writers who were his -contemporaries, and it extremely resembles, in its most remarkable -features, that of his maternal grandfather, Henry I, excepting only that -ambition, which was a ruling passion in both, found not in the first -Henry such unexceptionable means of exerting itself, and pushed that -prince into measures which were both criminal in themselves and were the -cause of further crimes, from which his grandson’s conduct was happily -exempted.</p> - -<p>This prince, like most of his predecessors of the Norman line, except -Stephen, passed more of his time on the Continent than in this island; -he was surrounded with the English gentry and nobility when abroad; the -French gentry and nobility attended him when he resided in England; both -nations acted in the government as if they were the same people; and, on -many occasions, the legislatures seem not to have been distinguished. As -the king and all the English barons were of French extraction, the -manners of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">{140}</a></span> that people acquired the ascendant, and were regarded as the -models of imitation. All foreign improvements, therefore, such as they -were, in literature and politeness, in laws and arts, seem now to have -been, in a good measure, transplanted into England, and that kingdom was -become little inferior, in all the fashionable accomplishments, to any -of its neighbors on the Continent. The more homely but more sensible -manners and principles of the Saxons were exchanged for the affectations -of chivalry and the subtleties of school philosophy; the feudal ideas of -civil government, the Romish sentiments in religion, had taken entire -possession of the people; by the former, the sense of submission toward -princes was somewhat diminished in the barons; by the latter, the -devoted attachment to papal authority was much augmented among the -clergy. The Norman and other foreign families established in England had -now struck deep root, and being entirely incorporated with the people, -whom at first they oppressed and despised, they no longer thought that -they needed the protection of the crown for the enjoyment of their -possessions, or considered their tenure as precarious. They aspired to -the same liberty and independence which they saw enjoyed by their -brethren on the Continent, and desired to restrain those exorbitant -prerogatives and arbitrary practices which the necessities of war and -the violence of conquest had at first obliged them to indulge in their -monarch. That memory also of a more equal government under the Saxon -princes, which remained with the English, diffused still further the -spirit of liberty, and made the barons both desirous of more -independence to themselves, and willing to indulge it to the people. And -it was not long ere this secret revolution in the sentiments of men -produced, first violent convulsions in the state, then an evident -alteration in the maxims of government.</p> - -<p>The history of all the preceding kings of England since the Conquest -gives evident proofs of the disorders attending the feudal -institutions—the licentiousness of the barons,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">{141}</a></span> their spirit of -rebellion against the prince and laws, and of animosity against each -other; the conduct of the barons in the transmarine dominions of those -monarchs afforded, perhaps, still more flagrant instances of these -convulsions, and the history of France during several ages consists -almost entirely of narrations of this nature. The cities, during the -continuance of this violent government, could neither be very numerous -nor populous, and there occur instances which seem to evince that, -though these are always the first seat of law and liberty, their police -was in general loose and irregular, and exposed to the same disorders -with those by which the country was generally infested. It was a custom -in London for great numbers, to the amount of a hundred or more, the -sons and relations of considerable citizens, to form themselves into a -licentious confederacy, to break into rich houses and plunder them, to -rob and murder the passengers, and to commit with impunity all sorts of -disorder. By these crimes it had become so dangerous to walk the streets -by night that the citizens durst no more venture abroad after sunset -than if they had been exposed to the incursions of a public enemy. The -brother of the Earl of Ferrars had been murdered by some of those -nocturnal rioters, and the death of so eminent a person, which was much -more regarded than that of many thousands of an inferior station, so -provoked the king that he swore vengeance against the criminals, and -became thenceforth more rigorous in the execution of the laws.</p> - -<p>Henry’s care in administering justice had gained him so great a -reputation that even foreign and distant princes made him arbiter, and -submitted their differences to his judgment. Sanchez, King of Navarre, -having some controversies with Alphonso, King of Castile, was contented, -though Alphonso had married the daughter of Henry, to choose this prince -for a referee; and they agreed, each of them to consign three castles -into neutral hands as a pledge of their not departing from his award. -Henry made the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">{142}</a></span> cause be examined before his great council, and gave a -sentence which was submitted to by both parties. These two Spanish kings -sent each a stout champion to the court of England, in order to defend -his cause by arms in case the way of duel had been chosen by Henry.</p> - -<h2><a name="GENGHIS_OR_ZINGIS_KHAN" id="GENGHIS_OR_ZINGIS_KHAN"></a>GENGHIS OR ZINGIS KHAN.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By</span> EDWARD GIBBON.</small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[An Asiatic conqueror, born about 1160, died 1227. His conquests -extended over the greater part of Asia, and touched Eastern Europe. -He belonged to that type exemplified by Alexander the Great, -Attila, Timour, and Napoleon, who made war for the mere passion and -glory of conquest, although he seems to have been by no means -destitute of generous and magnanimous qualities.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">From</span> the spacious highlands between China, Siberia, and the Caspian Sea, -the tide of emigration and war has repeatedly been poured. These ancient -seats of the Huns and Turks were occupied in the twelfth century by many -pastoral tribes, of the same descent and similar manners, which were -united and (<small>A.D.</small> 1206-1227) led to conquest by the formidable Zingis. In -his ascent to greatness, that barbarian (whose private appellation was -Temugin) had trampled on the necks of his equals. His birth was noble, -but it was in the pride of victory that the prince or people deduced his -seventh ancestor from the immaculate conception of a virgin. His father -had reigned over thirteen hordes, which composed about thirty or forty -thousand families, above two thirds refused to pay tithes or obedience -to his infant son, and at the age of thirteen, Temugin fought a battle -against his rebellious subjects. The future conqueror of Asia was -reduced to fly and to obey, but he rose superior to his fortune, and in -his fortieth year he had established his fame and dominion over the -circumjacent<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">{143}</a></span> tribes. In a state of society in which policy is rude and -valor is universal the ascendant of one man must be founded on his power -and resolution to punish his enemies and recompense his friends. His -first military league was ratified by the simple rites of sacrificing a -horse and tasting of a running stream; Temugin pledged himself to divide -with his followers the sweets and the bitters of life, and, when he had -shared among them his horses and apparel, he was rich in their gratitude -and his own hopes. After his first victory, he placed seventy caldrons -on the fire, and seventy of the most guilty rebels were cast headlong -into the boiling water. The sphere of his attraction was continually -enlarged by the ruin of the proud and the submission of the prudent; and -the boldest chieftains might tremble when they beheld, enchased in -silver, the skull of the khan of the Keraites, who, under the name of -Prester John, had corresponded with the Roman pontiff and the princes of -Europe. The ambition of Temugin condescended to employ the arts of -superstition, and it was from a naked prophet who could ascend to heaven -on a white horse that he accepted the title of Zingis, the <i>most great</i>, -and a divine right to the conquest and dominion of the earth. In a -general <i>couroultai</i>, or diet, he was seated on a felt, which was long -afterward revered as a relic, and solemnly proclaimed great khan, or -emperor, of the Moguls and Tartars. Of these kindred, though rival -names, the former had given birth to the imperial race, and the latter -has been extended, by accident or error, over the spacious wilderness of -the north.</p> - -<p>The code of laws which Zingis dictated to his subjects was adapted to -the preservation of domestic peace and the exercise of foreign -hostility. The punishment of death was inflicted on the crimes of -adultery, murder, perjury, and the capital thefts of a horse or an ox; -and the fiercest of men were mild and just in their intercourse with -each other. The future election of the great kahn was vested in the -princes of his family and the heads of the tribes, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">{144}</a></span> regulations -of the chase were essential to the pleasures and plenty of a Tartar -camp. The victorious nation was held sacred from all servile labors, -which were abandoned to slaves and strangers, and every labor was -servile except the profession of arms. The service and discipline of the -troops, who were armed with bows, cimeters, and iron maces, and divided -by hundreds, thousands, and ten thousands, were the institutions of a -veteran commander. Each officer and soldier was made responsible, under -pain of death, for the safety and honor of his companions; and the -spirit of conquest breathed in the law that peace should never be -granted unless to a vanquished and suppliant enemy.</p> - -<p>But it is the religion of Zingis that best deserves our wonder and -applause. The Catholic inquisitors of Europe, who defended nonsense by -cruelty, might have been confounded by the example of a barbarian, who -anticipated the lessons of philosophy, and established by his laws a -system of pure theism and perfect toleration. His first and only article -of faith was the existence of one God, the author of all good, who fills -by his presence the heavens and earth, which he has created by his -power. The Tartars and Moguls were addicted to the idols of their -peculiar tribes, and many of them had been converted by the foreign -missionaries to the religions of Moses, of Mahomet, and of Christ. These -various systems in freedom and concord were taught and practiced within -the precincts of the same camp, and the bonze, the imaum, the rabbi, the -Nestorian and the Latin priest, enjoyed the same honorable exemption -from service and tribute. In the mosque of Bokhara, the insolent victor -might trample the Koran under his horse’s feet, but the calm legislator -respected the prophets and pontiffs of the most hostile sects. The -reason of Zingis was not informed by books—the khan could neither read -nor write—and, except the tribe of the Igours, the greatest part of the -Moguls and Tartars were as illiterate as their sover<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">{145}</a></span>eign. The memory of -their exploits was preserved by tradition; sixty-eight years after the -death of Zingis, these traditions were collected and transcribed. The -brevity of their domestic annals may be supplied by the Chinese, -Persians, Armenians, Syrians, Arabians, Greeks, Russians, Poles, -Hungarians, and Latins; and each nation will deserve credit in the -relation of their own disasters and defeats.</p> - -<p>The arms of Zingis and his lieutenants successively reduced the hordes -of the desert, who pitched their tents between the wall of China and the -Volga; and the Mogul emperor became the monarch of the pastoral world, -the lord of many millions of shepherds and soldiers, who felt their -united strength, and were impatient to rush on the mild and wealthy -climates of the south. His ancestors had been the tributaries of the -Chinese emperors, and Temugin himself had been disgraced by a title of -honor and servitude. The court of Pekin was astonished by an embassy -from its former vassal, who, in the tone of the king of nations, exacted -the tribute and obedience which he had paid, and who affected to treat -the <i>son of heaven</i> as the most contemptible of mankind. A haughty -answer disguised their secret apprehensions, and their fears were soon -justified by the march of innumerable squadrons, who pierced on all -sides the feeble rampart of the great wall. Ninety cities were stormed, -or starved, by the Moguls; ten only escaped; and Zingis, from a -knowledge of the filial piety of the Chinese, covered his vanguard with -their captive parents—an unworthy, and by degrees a fruitless, abuse of -the virtue of his enemies. His invasion was supported by the revolt of -one hundred thousand Khitans who guarded the frontier, yet he listened -to a treaty, and a princess of China, three thousand horses, five -hundred youths and as many virgins, and a tribute of gold and silk were -the price of his retreat. In his second expedition, he compelled the -Chinese emperor to retire beyond the Yellow River to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">{146}</a></span> more southern -residence. The siege of Pekin was long and laborious; the inhabitants -were reduced by famine to decimate and devour their fellow-citizens; -when their ammunition was spent, they discharged ingots of gold and -silver from their engines; but the Moguls introduced a mine to the -center of the capital, and the conflagration of the palace burned above -thirty days. China was desolated by Tartar war and domestic faction, and -the five northern provinces were added to the empire of Zingis.</p> - -<p>In the west he touched the dominions of Mohammed, sultan of Carizme, who -reigned from the Persian Gulf to the borders of India and Turkestan; and -who, in the proud imitation of Alexander the Great, forgot the servitude -and ingratitude of his fathers to the house of Seljuk. It was the wish -of Zingis to establish a friendly and commercial intercourse with the -most powerful of the Moslem princes; nor could he be tempted by the -secret solicitations of the caliph of Bagdad, who sacrificed to his -personal wrongs the safety of the Church and state. A rash and inhuman -deed provoked and justified the Tartar arms in the invasion of the -southern Asia. A caravan of three ambassadors and one hundred and fifty -merchants was arrested and murdered at Otrar, by the command of -Mohammed; nor was it till after a demand and denial of justice, till he -had prayed and fasted three nights on a mountain, that the Mogul emperor -appealed to the judgment of God and his sword. Our European battles, -says a philosophic writer, are petty skirmishes, if compared to the -numbers that have fought and fallen in the fields of Asia. Seven hundred -thousand Moguls and Tartars are said to have marched under the standard -of Zingis and his four sons. In the vast plains that extend to the north -of the Sihon or Jaxartes, they were encountered by four hundred thousand -soldiers of the sultan; and in the first battle, which was suspended by -the night, one hundred and sixty thousands Carizmians were slain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">{147}</a></span></p> - -<p>The Persian historians will relate the sieges and reduction of Otrar, -Cogende, Bochara, Samarcand, Carizme, Herat, Merou, Nisabour, Balch, and -Candahar; and the conquest of the rich and populous countries of -Transoxiana, Carizme, and Chorasan. The destructive hostilities of -Attila and the Huns have long since been elucidated by the example of -Zingis and the Moguls; and in this more proper place I shall be content -to observe, that, from the Caspian to the Indus, they ruined a tract of -many hundred miles, which was adorned with the habitations and labors of -mankind, and that five centuries have not been sufficient to repair the -ravages of four years. The Mogul conqueror yielded with reluctance to -the murmurs of his weary and wealthy troops, who sighed for the -enjoyment of their native land. Incumbered with the spoils of Asia, he -slowly measured back his footsteps, betrayed some pity for the misery of -the vanquished, and declared his intention of rebuilding the cities -which had been swept away by the tempest of his arms. After he had -repassed the Oxus and Jaxartes, he was joined by two generals, whom he -had detached with thirty thousand horse to subdue the western provinces -of Persia. They had trampled on the nations which opposed their passage, -penetrated through the gates of Derbend, traversed the Volga and the -Desert, and accomplished the circuit of the Caspian Sea, by an -expedition which had never been attempted and has never been repeated. -The return of Zingis was signalized by the overthrow of the rebellious -or independent kingdoms of Tartary; and he died in the fulness of years -and glory, with his last breath exhorting and instructing his sons to -achieve the conquest of the Chinese Empire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">{148}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="SIMON_DE_MONTFORT_EARL_OF_LEICESTER" id="SIMON_DE_MONTFORT_EARL_OF_LEICESTER"></a>SIMON DE MONTFORT, EARL OF LEICESTER.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[A valiant soldier, astute politician, and public-spirited reformer -of the thirteenth century, born about 1200, died 1265. The son of -that De Montfort who led the cruel crusade against the Albigenses -of southern France, Simon became in early life an English subject, -received the highest honors from Henry III, and also secured the -hand of his sister in marriage. He sympathized with and became a -leader of the English barons in demanding the necessary concessions -to complete and enforce that great charter wrung from King John at -Runnymede; and finally took up arms to constrain Henry. In the -civil war which ensued Simon of Montfort was for the most part -victorious, but finally found himself forsaken by the fickle -baronage whose cause he had espoused. He was obliged to throw -himself on the support of the people. In the last Parliament he -convoked, in the year of his death, he summoned knights and -burgesses to sit by the side of the barons and bishops, thus -creating a new force in the English constitution, which wrought a -great change in the political system of the country. He was slain -and his army defeated some months later at the battle of Evesham by -Prince Edward.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> a thunderstorm once forced the king, as he was rowing on the -Thames, to take refuge at the palace of the Bishop of Durham, Earl Simon -of Montfort, who was a guest of the prelate, met the royal barge with -assurances that the storm was drifting away, and that there was nothing -to fear. Henry’s petulant wit broke out in his reply: “If I fear the -thunder,” said the king, “I fear you, Sir Earl, more than all the -thunder in the world.”</p> - -<p>The man whom Henry dreaded as the champion of English freedom was -himself a foreigner, the son of a Simon de Montfort whose name had -become memorable for his ruthless crusade against the Albigensian -heretics in southern Gaul. Though fourth son of this crusader, Simon<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">{149}</a></span> -became possessor of the English earldom of Leicester, which he inherited -through his mother, and a secret match with Eleanor, the king’s sister -and widow of the second William Marshal, linked him to the royal house. -The baronage, indignant at this sudden alliance with a stranger, rose in -a revolt which failed only through the desertion of their head, Earl -Richard of Cornwall; while the censures of the Church on Eleanor’s -breach of a vow of chastity, which she had made at her first husband’s -death, were hardly averted by a journey to Rome. Simon returned to find -the changeable king quickly alienated from him and to be driven by a -burst of royal passion from the realm. He was, however, soon restored to -favor, and before long took his stand in the front rank of the patriot -leaders. In 1248 he was appointed governor of Gascony, where the stern -justice of his rule and the heavy taxation which his enforcement of -order made necessary earned the hatred of the disorderly nobles. The -complaints of the Gascons brought about an open breach with the king. To -Earl Simon’s offer of the surrender of his post if the money he had -spent in the royal service were, as Henry had promised, repaid him, the -king hotly retorted that he was bound by no promise to a false traitor. -Simon at once gave Henry the lie; “and but that thou bearest the name of -king it had been a bad hour for thee when thou utteredst such a word!” A -formal reconciliation was brought about, and the earl once more returned -to Gascony, but before winter had come he was forced to withdraw to -France. The greatness of his reputation was shown in an offer which its -nobles made him of the regency of their realm during the absence of King -Lewis on the crusade. But the offer was refused, and Henry, who had -himself undertaken the pacification of Gascony, was glad before the -close of 1253 to recall its old ruler to do the work he had failed to -do.</p> - -<p>Simon’s character had now thoroughly developed. He had inherited the -strict and severe piety of his father; he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">{150}</a></span> assiduous in his -attendance on religious services, whether by night or day; he was the -friend of Grosseteste and the patron of the Friars. In his -correspondence with Adam Marsh we see him finding patience under his -Gascon troubles in the perusal of the Book of Job. His life was pure and -singularly temperate; he was noted for his scant indulgence in meat, -drink, or sleep. Socially he was cheerful and pleasant in talk; but his -natural temper was quick and ardent, his sense of honor keen, his speech -rapid and trenchant. His impatience of contradiction, his fiery temper, -were in fact the great stumbling-blocks in his after career. But the one -characteristic which overmastered all was what men at that time called -his “constancy,” the firm, immovable resolve which trampled even death -under foot in its loyalty to the right. The motto which Edward I chose -as his device, “Keep troth,” was far truer as the device of Earl Simon. -We see in his correspondence with what a clear discernment of its -difficulties both at home and abroad he “thought it unbecoming to -decline the danger of so great an exploit” as the reduction of Gascony -to peace and order; but once undertaken, he persevered in spite of the -opposition he met with, the failure of all support or funds from -England, and the king’s desertion of his cause, till the work was done. -There is the same steadiness of will and purpose in his patriotism. The -letters of Grosseteste show how early he had learned to sympathize with -the bishop in his resistance to Rome, and at the crisis of the contest -he offers him his own support and that of his associates. He sends to -Adam Marsh a tract of Grosseteste’s on “the rule of a kingdom and of a -tyranny,” sealed with his own seal. He listens patiently to the advice -of his friends on the subject of his household or his temper. “Better is -a patient man,” writes honest Friar Adam, “than a strong man, and he who -can rule his own temper than he who storms a city.” “What use is it to -provide for the peace of your fellow-citizens and not guard the peace of -your own household?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">{151}</a></span>” It was to secure “the peace of his -fellow-citizens” that the earl silently trained himself as the tide of -misgovernment mounted higher and higher, and the fruit of his discipline -was seen when the crisis came. While other men wavered and faltered and -fell away, the enthusiastic love of the people gathered itself round the -stern, grave soldier who “stood like a pillar,” unshaken by promise or -threat or fear of death, by the oath he had sworn.</p> - -<p>In England affairs were going from bad to worse. The Pope still weighed -heavily on the Church. Two solemn confirmations of the charter failed to -bring about any compliance with its provisions. In 1248, in 1249, and -again in 1255, the great council fruitlessly renewed its demand for a -regular ministry, and the growing resolve of the nobles to enforce good -government was seen in their offer of a grant on condition that the -chief officers of the crown were appointed by the council. Henry -indignantly refused the offer, and sold his plate to the citizens of -London to find payment for his household. The barons were mutinous and -defiant. “I will send reapers and reap your fields for you,” Henry had -threatened Earl Bigod of Norfolk when he refused him aid. “And I will -send you back the heads of your reapers,” retorted the earl. Hampered by -the profusion of the court and by the refusal of supplies, the crown was -penniless, yet new expenses were incurred by Henry’s acceptance of a -papal offer of the kingdom of Sicily in favor of his second son, Edmund. -Shame had fallen on the English arms, and the king’s eldest son, Edward, -had been disastrously defeated on the Marches by Llewelyn of Wales. The -tide of discontent, which was heightened by a grievous famine, burst its -bounds in the irritation excited by the new demands from both Henry and -Rome with which the year 1258 opened, and the barons repaired in arms to -a great council summoned at London. The past half-century had shown both -the strength and weakness of the charter—its strength as a -rallying-point for the baronage, and a definite<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">{152}</a></span> assertion of rights -which the king could be made to acknowledge; its weakness in providing -no means for the enforcement of its own stipulations. Henry had sworn -again and again to observe the charter, and his oath was no sooner taken -than it was unscrupulously broken.</p> - -<p>The victory of Lewes placed Earl Simon at the head of the state. “Now -England breathes in the hope of liberty,” sang a poet of the time; “the -English were despised like dogs, but now they have lifted up their head -and their foes are vanquished.” The song announces with almost legal -precision the theory of the patriots. “He who would be in truth a king, -he is a ‘free king’ indeed if he rightly rule himself and his realm. All -things are lawful to him for the government of his kingdom, but nothing -for its destruction. It is one thing to rule according to a king’s duty, -another to destroy a kingdom by resisting the law.... Let the community -of the realm advise, and let it be known what the generality, to whom -their own laws are best known, think on the matter. They who are ruled -by the laws know those laws best; they who make daily trial of them are -best acquainted with them; and since it is their own affairs which are -at stake, they will take more care, and will act with an eye to their -own peace.... It concerns the community to see what sort of men ought -justly to be chosen for the weal of the realm.” The constitutional -restrictions on the royal authority, the right of the whole nation to -deliberate and decide on its own affairs, and to have a voice in the -selection of the administrators of government, had never been so clearly -stated before.</p> - -<p>It was impossible to make binding terms with an imprisoned king, yet to -release Henry without terms was to renew the war. A new Parliament was -summoned in January, 1265, to Westminster, but the weakness of the -patriotic party among the baronage was shown in the fact that only -twenty-three earls and barons could be found to sit beside the hundred -and twenty ecclesiastics. But it was just this<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">{153}</a></span> sense of his weakness -that drove Earl Simon to a constitutional change of mighty issue in our -history. As before, he summoned two knights from every county. But he -created a new force in English politics when he summoned to sit beside -them two citizens from every borough. The attendance of delegates from -the towns had long been usual in the county courts when any matter -respecting their interests was in question; but it was the writ issued -by Earl Simon that first summoned the merchant and the trader to sit -beside the knight of the shire, the baron, and the bishop in the -Parliament of the realm.</p> - -<h2><a name="EDWARD_I_KING_OF_ENGLAND" id="EDWARD_I_KING_OF_ENGLAND"></a>EDWARD I, KING OF ENGLAND.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Surnamed Longshanks, born 1239, crowned 1274, died 1307. Son of -Henry III, he defeated and slew Simon de Montfort in his father’s -reign and took part in the fourth crusade. On his accession to the -throne he completed the subjugation of Wales and in all ways -approved himself an able and powerful monarch. The most signal -events of his reign were those connected with the subjugation of -Scotland. At first successful, it was only in the last months of -his long reign that Robert Bruce’s coronation as King of the Scots -opened the way for a final defeat of English claims and arms under -Edward II.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> his own time, and among his own subjects, Edward was the object of -almost boundless admiration. He was in the truest sense a national king. -At the moment when the last trace of foreign conquest passed away, when -the descendants of those who won and those who lost at Senlac blended -for ever into an English people, England saw in her ruler no stranger, -but an Englishman. The national tradition returned in more than the -golden hair or the English name which linked him to our earlier kings. -Edward’s very temper was English to the core. In good as in evil he -stands out as the typical representative of the race he ruled;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">{154}</a></span> like -them willful and imperious, tenacious of his rights, indomitable in his -pride, dogged, stubborn, slow of apprehension, narrow in sympathy, but -like them, too, just in the main, unselfish, laborious, conscientious, -haughtily observant of truth and self-respect, temperate, reverent of -duty, religious. He inherited, indeed, from the Angevins their fierce -and passionate wrath; his punishments, when he punished in anger, were -without pity; and a priest who ventured at a moment of storm into his -presence with a remonstrance dropped dead from sheer fright at his feet. -But for the most part his impulses were generous, trustful, averse from -cruelty, prone to forgiveness. “No man ever asked mercy of me,” he said, -in his old age, “and was refused.” The rough soldierly nobleness of his -nature breaks out at Falkirk, where he lay on the bare ground among his -men, or in his refusal during a Welsh campaign to drink of the one cask -of wine which had been saved from marauders. “It is I who have brought -you into this strait,” he said to his thirsty fellow-soldiers, “and I -will have no advantage of you in meat or drink.” A strange tenderness -and sensitiveness to affection lay, in fact, beneath the stern -imperiousness of his outer bearing. Every subject throughout his realm -was drawn closer to the king who wept bitterly at the news of his -father’s death, though it gave him a crown; whose fiercest burst of -vengeance was called out by an insult to his mother; whose crosses rose -as memorials of his love and sorrow at every spot where his wife’s bier -rested. “I loved her tenderly in her lifetime,” wrote Edward to -Eleanor’s friend the Abbot of Cluny; “I do not cease to love her now she -is dead.” And as it was with mother and wife, so it was with his people -at large. All the self-concentrated isolation of the earlier Angevins -disappears in Edward. He was the first English king since the Conquest -who loved his people with a personal love and craved for their love back -again. To his trust in them we owe our Parliament, to his care for them -the great statutes which stand in the fore<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">{155}</a></span>front of our laws. Even in -his struggles with her England understood a temper which was so -perfectly her own, and the quarrels between king and people during his -reign are quarrels where, doggedly as they fought, neither disputant -doubted for a moment the worth or affection of the other. Few scenes in -our history are more touching than that which closes the long contest -over the charter, when Edward stood face to face with his people in -Westminster Hall, and with a sudden burst of tears owned himself frankly -in the wrong.</p> - -<p>But it was just this sensitiveness, this openness to outer impressions -and outer influences, that led to the strange contradictions which meet -us in Edward’s career. Under the first king, whose temper was distinctly -English, a foreign influence told most fatally on our manners, our -literature, our national spirit. The rise of France into a compact and -organized monarchy from the time of Philip Augustus was now making its -influence dominant in Western Europe. The “chivalry” so familiar in -Froissart, that picturesque mimicry of high sentiment, of heroism, love, -and courtesy, before which all depth and reality of nobleness -disappeared to make room for the coarsest profligacy, the narrowest -caste-spirit, and a brutal indifference to human suffering, was -specially of French creation. There was a nobleness in Edward’s nature -from which the baser influences of this chivalry fell away. His life was -pure, his piety, save when it stooped to the superstition of the time, -manly and sincere, while his high sense of duty saved him from the -frivolous self-indulgence of his successors. But he was far from being -wholly free from the taint of his age. His passionate desire was to be a -model of the fashionable chivalry of his day. He had been famous from -his very youth as a consummate general; Earl Simon had admired the skill -of his advance at Evesham, and in his Welsh campaign he had shown a -tenacity and force of will which wrested victory out of the midst of -defeat. He could head a furious charge of horse at Lewes, or organize a -commis<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156">{156}</a></span>sariat which enabled him to move army after army across the -harried Lowlands. In his old age he was quick to discover the value of -the English archery, and to employ it as a means of victory at Falkirk. -But his fame as a general seemed a small thing to Edward when compared -with his fame as a knight. He shared to the full his people’s love of -hard fighting. His frame, indeed, was that of a born soldier—tall, -deep-chested, long of limb, capable alike of endurance or action. When -he encountered Adam Gurdon, a knight of gigantic size and renowned -prowess, after Evesham, he forced him single-handed to beg for mercy. At -the opening of his reign he saved his life by sheer fighting in a -tournament at Challon. It was this love of adventure which lent itself -to the frivolous unreality of the new chivalry. At his “Round Table of -Kenilworth” a hundred lords and ladies, “clad all in silk,” renewed the -faded glories of Arthur’s court. The false air of romance which was soon -to turn the gravest political resolutions into outbursts of sentimental -feeling appeared in his “Vow of the Swan,” when rising at the royal -board he swore on the dish before him to avenge on Scotland the murder -of Comyn. Chivalry exerted on him a yet more fatal influence in its -narrowing of his sympathy to the noble class, and in its exclusion of -the peasant and the craftsman from all claim to pity. “Knight without -reproach” as he was, he looked calmly on at the massacre of the burghers -of Berwick, and saw in William Wallace nothing but a common robber.</p> - -<p>Hardly less powerful than the French notion of chivalry in its influence -on Edward’s mind was the new French conception of kingship, feudality, -and law. The rise of a lawyer class was everywhere hardening customary -into written rights, allegiance into subjection, loose ties, such as -commendation, into a definite vassalage. But it was specially through -French influence, the influence of St. Lewis and his successors, that -the imperial theories of the Roman law were brought to bear upon this -natural tendency of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157">{157}</a></span> time. When the “sacred majesty” of the Cæsars -was transferred by a legal fiction to the royal head of a feudal -baronage, every constitutional relation was changed. The “defiance” by -which a vassal renounced service to his lord became treason, his -after-resistance “sacrilege.” That Edward could appreciate what was -sound and noble in the legal spirit around him was shown in his reforms -of our judicature and our Parliament; but there was something as -congenial to his mind in its definiteness, its rigidity, its narrow -technicalities. He was never willfully unjust, but he was too often -captious in his justice, fond of legal chicanery, prompt to take -advantage of the letter of the law. The high conception of royalty which -he had borrowed from St. Lewis united with this legal turn of mind in -the worst acts of his reign. Of rights or liberties unregistered in -charter or roll Edward would know nothing, while his own good sense was -overpowered by the majesty of his crown. It was incredible to him that -Scotland should revolt against a legal bargain which made her national -independence conditional on the terms extorted from a claimant of her -throne; nor could he view in any other light but as treason the -resistance of his own baronage to an arbitrary taxation which their -fathers had borne. It is in the very anomalies of such a character, in -its strange union of justice and wrong-doing, of nobleness and meanness, -that we must look for any fair explanation of much that has since been -bitterly blamed in Edward’s conduct and policy.</p> - -<h2><a name="ROBERT_BRUCE" id="ROBERT_BRUCE"></a>ROBERT BRUCE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By Sir ARCHIBALD ALISON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born Lord of Annandale and Earl of Carrick 1274, died King of -Scotland 1329. Robert Bruce was descended from the younger branch -of the royal line of Scotland, to which succession had reverted by -the death of Margaret, the “Maiden of Norway.” Brought up in the -English court, where he was a favorite of Edward I, who claimed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158">{158}</a></span> -be over-lord of Scotland, and, as such, feudal superior of her -kings, he had vacillated in his course in the wars which had been -carried on by Edward to enforce that claim. In 1306 he threw off -all indecision, accepted the Scottish crown, and was invested at -Scone. Severely defeated at the beginning by the lieutenants of -Edward, he was relieved, by the death of the latter while marching -to take personal command, of his most dangerous antagonist. Edward -II for some years did not push aggression against Scotland, and the -Scottish monarch had recovered nearly all his dominions, when -Edward marched against him with a great army. The Scots gained an -overwhelming victory at the battle of Bannockburn in 1314, and -royal Scottish authority was re-established. The complete -independence of Scotland was not acknowledged however, till 1328, -in the reign of Edward III.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Toward</span> a due understanding of the extraordinary merits of Robert Bruce -it is necessary to take a cursory view of the power with which he had to -contend and of the resources of that kingdom, which, at that critical -juncture, Providence committed to his charge. The power of England, -against which it was his lot to struggle, was, perhaps, the most -formidable which then existed in Europe. The native valor of her people, -distinguished even under the weakest reign, was then led on and animated -by a numerous and valiant feudal nobility. That bold and romantic spirit -of enterprise which led the Norman arms to the throne of England and -enabled Roger de Hauteville, with thirty followers, to win the crown of -the Two Sicilies still animated the English nobles; and to this -hereditary spirit was added the remembrance of the matchless glories -which their arms had acquired in Palestine.</p> - -<p>The barons who were then arrayed against Robert Bruce were the -descendants of those iron warriors who combated for Christendom under -the walls of Acre, and defeated the whole Saracen strength in the battle -of Ascalon; the banners that were then unfurled for the conquest of -Scotland were those which had waved victorious over the arms of Saladin; -and the sovereign who led them bore the crown that had been worn by -Richard in the Holy Wars, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159">{159}</a></span> wielded in his sword the terror of that -mighty name at which even the accumulated hosts of Asia were appalled.</p> - -<p>Nor were the resources of England less formidable for nourishing and -maintaining the war. The prosperity which had grown up with the equal -laws of our Saxon ancestors, and which the tyranny of the early Norman -kings had never completely extinguished, had revived and spread under -the wise and beneficent reigns of Henry II and Edward I. The legislative -wisdom of the last monarch had given to the English law greater -improvements than it had ever received in any subsequent reigns, while -his heroic valor had subdued the rebellious spirit of his barons and -trained their united strength to submission to the throne. The -acquisition of Wales had removed the only weak point of his wide -dominion and added a cruel and savage race to the already formidable -mass of his armies. The navy of England already ruled the seas, and was -prepared to carry ravage and desolation over the wide and defenseless -Scottish coast; while a hundred thousand men armed in the magnificent -array of feudal war and led on by the ambition of a feudal nobility -poured into a country which seemed destined only to be their prey.</p> - -<p>But, most of all, in the ranks of this army were found the intrepid -yeomanry of England—that peculiar and valuable body of men which has in -every age contributed as much to the stability of English character as -the celebrity of the English arms, and which then composed those -terrible archers whose prowess rendered them so formidable to all the -armies of Europe. These men, whose valor was warmed by the consciousness -of personal freedom and whose strength was nursed among the inclosed -fields and green pastures of English liberty, conferred, till the -discovery of firearms rendered personal accomplishments of no avail, a -matchless advantage on the English armies. The troops of no other nation -could produce a body of men in the least comparable to them, either in -strength, discipline,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160">{160}</a></span> or individual valor; and such was the dreadful -efficacy with which they used their weapons that not only did they -mainly contribute to the subsequent triumphs of Cressy and Azincourt, -but at Poitiers and Hamildon Hill they alone gained the victory, with -hardly any assistance from the feudal tenantry.</p> - -<p>These troops were well known to the Scottish soldiers, and had -established their superiority over them in many bloody battles, in which -the utmost efforts of undisciplined valor had been found unavailing -against their practiced discipline and superior equipment. The very -names of the barons who headed them were associated with an unbroken -career of conquest and renown, and can hardly be read yet without a -feeling of exultation.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Names that to fear were never known,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bold Norfolk’s Earl de Brotherton<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Oxford’s famed De Vere;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ross, Montague, and Manly came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Courtney’s pride and Percy’s fame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Names known too well in Scotland’s war<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At Falkirk, Methoven, and Dunbar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blazed broader yet in after years<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At Cressy red and fell Poitiers.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Against this terrible force, before which in the succeeding reign the -military power of France was compelled to bow, Bruce had to array the -scanty troops of a barren land and the divided force of a turbulent -nobility. Scotland was in his time fallen low, indeed, from that state -of peace and prosperity in which she was found at the first invasion of -Edward I, and on which so much light has been thrown by the ingenious -research of our own times. The disputed succession had sowed the seeds -of inextinguishable jealousies among the nobles. The gold of England had -corrupted many to betray their country’s cause; and the fatal ravages of -English invasion had desolated the whole plains, from which resources -for carrying on the war could be drawn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161">{161}</a></span></p> - -<p>All the heroic valor, the devoted patriotism, and the personal prowess -of Wallace had been unable to stem the torrent of English invasion; and -when he died the whole nation seemed to sink under the load against -which his unexampled fortitude had long enabled it to struggle. These -unhappy jealousies among the nobles, to which his downfall was owing, -still continued and almost rendered hopeless any attempt to combine -their forces; while the thinned population and ruined husbandry of the -country seemed to prognosticate nothing but utter extirpation from a -continuance of the war. Nor was the prospect less melancholy from a -consideration of the combats which had taken place. The short spear and -light shield of the Scotch had been found utterly unavailing against the -iron panoply and powerful horses of the English barons, while the hardy -and courageous mountaineers perished in vain under the dreadful tempest -of the English archery.</p> - -<p>What, then, must have been the courage of the youthful prince, who, -after having been driven for shelter to an island on the north of -Ireland, could venture with only forty followers to raise the standard -of independence in Scotland against the accumulated force of this mighty -power! What the resources of that understanding, which, though -intimately acquainted from personal service with the tried superiority -of the English arms, could foresee in his barren and exhausted country -the means of combatting them! What the ability of that political conduct -which could reunite the jarring interests and smother the deadly feuds -of the Scottish nobles! And what the capacity of that noble warrior who, -in the words of the contemporary historian,<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> could “unite the prowess -of the first knight to the conduct of the greatest general of his age,” -and was able in the space of six years to raise the Scottish arms from -the lowest point of depression to such a pitch of glory that even the -re<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162">{162}</a></span>doubted archers and haughty chivalry of England fled at the sight of -the Scottish banner!</p> - -<p>Nor was it only in the field that the great and patriotic conduct of -Robert Bruce was displayed. In endeavor to restore the almost ruined -fortunes of his country and to heal the wounds which a war of -unparalleled severity had brought upon this people he exhibited the same -wise and beneficent policy. Under his auspicious rule, husbandry -revived, arts were encouraged, and the turbulent barons were awed into -subjection. Scotland recovered during his administration in a great -measure from the devastation that had preceded it; and the peasants, -forgetting the stern warrior in the beneficent monarch, long remembered -his sway under the name of the “good King Robert’s reign.”</p> - -<p>But the greatness of his character appeared most of all from the events -that occurred after his death. When the capacity with which he and his -worthy associates Randolph and Douglas had counterbalanced the -superiority of English arms was withdrawn, the fabric which they had -supported fell to the ground. In the very first battle which was fought -after his death at Hamildon Hill, a larger army than that which -conquered at Bannockburn was overthrown by the archers of England, -without a single knight couching his spear. Never at any subsequent -period was Scotland able to stand the more powerful arms of the English -yeomanry. Thenceforward her military history is little more than a -melancholy catalogue of continued defeats, occasioned rather by -treachery on the part of her nobles or incapacity in her generals than -any defect of valor in her soldiers; and the independence of the -monarchy was maintained rather by the terror which the name of Bruce and -the remembrance of Bannockburn had inspired than by the achievements of -any of the successors to his throne.</p> - -<p>The merits of Robert Bruce as a warrior are very generally acknowledged; -and the eyes of Scottish patriotism turn with the greater exultation to -his triumphs from the con<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163">{163}</a></span>trast which their splendor affords to the -barren annals of the subsequent reigns. But the important consequences -of his victories are not sufficiently appreciated. But for his bold and -unconquerable spirit, Scotland might have shared with Ireland the -severity of English conquest; and instead of exulting now in the -prosperity of our country, the energy of our peasantry, and the -patriotic spirit of our resident landed proprietors, we might have been -deploring with her an absent nobility, an oppressive tenantry, a bigoted -and ruined people.</p> - -<h2><a name="EDWARD_III_KING_OF_ENGLAND" id="EDWARD_III_KING_OF_ENGLAND"></a>EDWARD III, KING OF ENGLAND.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By DAVID HUME.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Son of Edward II of England and Isabella of France, born 1312, -crowned 1327, died 1377. Edward achieved the highest renown by his -Scotch and French wars, the latter of which he undertook as -claimant of the French throne through his mother. Though the latter -part of his life was marked by many misfortunes, the achievements -of his reign stamp it as among the most important in the earlier -English annals. It was not until this period that the English -language became universally recognized as the national speech, and -the various race elements were thoroughly welded and made -homogeneous.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> English are apt to consider with peculiar fondness the history of -Edward III, and to esteem his reign, as it was one of the longest, the -most glorious, also, that occurs in the annals of their nation. The -ascendant which they then began to acquire over France, their rival and -supposed national enemy, makes them cast their eyes on this period with -great complacency, and sanctifies every measure which Edward embraced -for that end. But the domestic government of this prince is really more -admirable than his foreign victories; and England enjoyed, by the -prudence and vigor of his administration, a longer interval of domestic -peace and tranquillity than she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164">{164}</a></span> been blessed with in any former -period, or than she experienced for many ages after. He gained the -affections of the great, yet curbed their licentiousness; he made them -feel his power, without their daring, or even being inclined, to murmur -at it; his affable and obliging behavior, his munificence and -generosity, made them submit with pleasure to his dominion; his valor -and conduct made them successful in most of their enterprises; and their -unquiet spirits, directed against a public enemy, had no leisure to -breed those disturbances to which they were naturally so much inclined, -and which the frame of the government seemed so much to authorize.</p> - -<p>This was the chief benefit which resulted from Edward’s victories and -conquests. His foreign wars were in other respects neither founded in -justice nor directed to any salutary purpose. His attempt against the -King of Scotland, a minor and a brother-in-law, and the revival of his -grandfather’s claim of superiority over that kingdom were both -unreasonable and ungenerous; and he allowed himself to be too easily -seduced, by the glaring prospect of French conquests, from the -acquisition of a point which was practicable, and which, if attained, -might really have been of lasting utility to his country and his -successors. The success which he met with in France, though chiefly -owing to his eminent talents, was unexpected; and yet from the very -nature of things, not from any unforeseen accidents, was found, even -during his lifetime, to have procured him no solid advantages. But the -glory of a conqueror is so dazzling to the vulgar, the animosity of -nations is so violent, that the fruitless desolation of so fine a part -of Europe as France is totally disregarded by us, and is never -considered as a blemish in the character or conduct of this prince; and, -indeed, from the unfortunate state of human nature, it will commonly -happen that a sovereign of genius, such as Edward, who usually finds -everything easy in his domestic government, will turn himself toward -military enterprises,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165">{165}</a></span> where alone he meets with opposition, and where -he has full exercise for his industry and capacity.</p> - -<p>It is remarked by an elegant historian that conquerors, though usually -the bane of human kind, proved often, in those feudal times, the most -indulgent of sovereigns. They stood most in need of supplies from their -people; and not being able to compel them by force to submit to the -necessary impositions, they were obliged to make them some compensation -by equitable laws and popular concessions. This remark is, in some -measure, though imperfectly, justified by the conduct of Edward III. He -took no steps of moment without consulting his Parliament and obtaining -their approbation, which he afterward pleaded as a reason for their -supporting his measures. The Parliament, therefore, rose into greater -consideration during his reign, and acquired more regular authority than -in any former time; and even the House of Commons, which during -turbulent and factious periods, was naturally depressed by the greater -power of the crown and barons, began to appear of some weight in the -constitution. In the later years of Edward, the king’s ministers were -impeached in Parliament, particularly Lord Latimer, who fell a sacrifice -to the authority of the Commons; and they even obliged the king to -banish his mistress by their remonstrances. Some attention was also paid -to the election of their members; and lawyers, in particular, who were -at that time men of character somewhat inferior, were totally excluded -from the House during several Parliaments.</p> - -<p>Edward granted about twenty parliamentary confirmations of the great -charter; and these concessions are commonly appealed to as proofs of his -great indulgence to the people and his tender regard for their -liberties. But the contrary presumption is more natural. If the maxims -of Edward’s reign had not been in general somewhat arbitrary, and if the -great charter had not been frequently violated, the Parliament would -never have applied for these frequent<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166">{166}</a></span> confirmations, which could add no -force to a deed regularly observed, and which could serve to no other -purpose than to prevent the contrary precedents from turning into a -rule, and acquiring authority. It was indeed the effect of the irregular -government during those ages that a statute which had been enacted some -years, instead of acquiring, was imagined to lose force by time, and -needed to be often renewed by recent statutes of the same sense and -tenor. Hence, likewise, that general clause, so frequent in old acts of -Parliament, that the statutes enacted by the king’s progenitors should -be observed—a precaution which, if we do not consider the circumstances -of the times, might appear absurd and ridiculous. The frequent -confirmations of the privileges of the Church proceeded from the same -cause.</p> - -<p>There is not a reign among those of the ancient English monarchs which -deserves more to be studied than that of Edward III, nor one where the -domestic transactions will better discover the true genius of that kind -of mixed government which was then established in England. The struggles -with regard to the validity and authority of the great charter were now -over; the king was acknowledged to lie under some limitations; Edward -himself was a prince of great capacity, not governed by favorites, not -led astray by any unruly passion, sensible that nothing could be more -essential to his interest than to keep on good terms with his people; -yet, on the whole, it appears, that the government at best was only a -barbarous monarchy, not regulated by any fixed maxims nor bounded by any -certain undisputed rights which in practice were regularly observed. The -king conducted himself by one set of principles, the barons by another, -the Commons by a third, the clergy by a fourth. All these systems of -government were opposite and incompatible; each of them prevailed in its -turn, as incidents were favorable to it; a great prince rendered the -monarchical power predominant; the weakness of a king gave reins to the -aristocracy: a superstitious age saw the clergy<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167">{167}</a></span> triumphant; the people, -for whom chiefly government was instituted, and who chiefly deserve -consideration, were the weakest of the whole. But the Commons, little -obnoxious to any other order, though they sunk under the violence of -tempests, silently reared their head in more peaceable times; and while -the storm was brewing were courted on all sides, and thus received still -some accession to their privileges, or at worst some confirmation of -them.</p> - -<h2><a name="RIENZI" id="RIENZI"></a>RIENZI.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Cola Gabrini Rienzi, the “last of the Roman tribunes,” born about -1312, died by assassination during a popular <i>emeute</i>, 1354. -Inspired by his patriotic enthusiasm and made powerful by his -eloquence, Rienzi, during the troubles in Rome ensuing on the -removal of the Papal See to Avignon, organized an insurrection -against the turbulent and factious nobles. The latter were crushed -and driven from Rome, and Rienzi rose to supreme power under the -title of “tribune.” Success, however, corrupted the republican -virtues of the <i>parvenu</i> tribune of the new republic; and his -arrogance and splendor soon laid heavy burdens of taxation on the -people, which provoked a reaction. He was finally driven from power -and compelled to seek safety in flight. The return of the barons -and their iron oppression, however, paved the way for the -successful return of Rienzi to the chief magistracy in 1354. -Unwarned by experience he again resumed the pomp and pride of -royalty, and was shortly after killed in an insurrection of the -citizens of Rome.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> a quarter of the city which was inhabited only by mechanics and Jews, -the marriage of an innkeeper and a washerwoman produced the future -deliverer of Rome. From such parents Nicholas Rienzi Gabrini could -inherit neither dignity nor fortune; and the gift of a liberal -education, which they painfully bestowed, was the cause of his glory and -untimely end. The study of history and eloquence, the writings of -Cicero, Seneca, Livy, Cæsar, and Valerius<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168">{168}</a></span> Maximus elevated above his -equals and contemporaries the genius of the young plebeian; he perused -with indefatigable diligence the manuscripts and marbles of antiquity; -loved to dispense his knowledge in familiar language; and was often -provoked to exclaim: “Where are now these Romans? their virtue, their -justice, their power? Why was I not born in those happy times?” When the -republic addressed to the throne of Avignon an embassy of the three -orders, the spirit and eloquence of Rienzi recommended him to a place -among the thirteen deputies of the commons. The orator had the honor of -haranguing Pope Clement VI, and the satisfaction of conversing with -Petrarch, a congenial mind; but his aspiring hopes were chilled by -disgrace and poverty, and the patriot was reduced to a single garment -and the charity of the hospital. From this misery he was relieved by the -sense of merit or smile of favor; and the employment of apostolic notary -afforded him a daily stipend of five gold florins, a more honorable and -extensive connection, and the right of contrasting, both in words and -actions, his own integrity with the vices of the state. The eloquence of -Rienzi was prompt and persuasive; the multitude is always prone to envy -and censure; he was stimulated by the loss of a brother and the impunity -of the assassins; nor was it possible to excuse or exaggerate the public -calamities.</p> - -<p>A prophecy, or rather a summons, affixed on the church door of St. -George, was the first public evidence of his designs; a nocturnal (May -20, <small>A.D.</small> 1347) assembly of a hundred citizens on Mount Aventine, the -first step to their execution. After an oath of secrecy and aid, he -represented to the conspirators the importance and facility of their -enterprise; that the nobles, without union or resources, were strong -only in the fear of their imaginary strength; that all power, as well as -right, was in the hands of the people; that the revenues of the -apostolical chamber might relieve the public distress; and that the Pope -himself would approve<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169">{169}</a></span> their victory over the common enemies of -government and freedom. After securing a faithful band to protect his -first declaration, he proclaimed through the city, by sound of trumpet, -that on the evening of the following day all persons should assemble -without arms before the church of St. Angelo to provide for the -re-establishment of the good estate. The whole night was employed in the -celebration of thirty masses of the Holy Ghost, and in the morning, -Rienzi, bareheaded, but in complete armor, issued from the church, -encompassed by the hundred conspirators.</p> - -<p>The Pope’s vicar, the simple Bishop of Orvieto, who had been persuaded -to sustain a part in this singular ceremony, marched on his right hand, -and three great standards were borne aloft as the emblems of their -design. In the first, the banner of <i>liberty</i>, Rome was seated on two -lions, with a palm in one hand and a globe in the other; St. Paul, with -a drawn sword, was delineated in the banner of <i>justice</i>; and in the -third, St. Peter held the keys of <i>concord</i> and <i>peace</i>. Rienzi was -encouraged by the presence and applause of an innumerable crowd, who -understood little and hoped much; and the procession slowly rolled -forward from the castle of St. Angelo to the Capitol. His triumph was -disturbed by some secret emotions which he labored to suppress; he -ascended without opposition, and with seeming confidence, the citadel of -the republic, harangued the people from the balcony, and received the -most flattering confirmation of his acts and laws. The nobles, as if -destitute of arms and counsels, beheld in silent consternation this -strange revolution; and the moment had been prudently chosen, when the -most formidable, Stephen Colonna, was absent from the city. On the first -rumor, he returned to his palace, affected to despise this plebeian -tumult, and declared to the messenger of Rienzi that at his leisure he -would cast the madman from the windows of the Capitol. The great bell -instantly rang an alarm, and so rapid was the tide, so urgent was the -danger, that Colonna escaped with precipitation to the sub<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170">{170}</a></span>urb of St. -Laurence; from thence, after a moment’s refreshment, he continued the -same speedy career till he reached in safety his castle of Palestrina, -lamenting his own imprudence, which had not trampled the spark of this -mighty conflagration. A general and peremptory order was issued from the -Capitol to all the nobles that they should peaceably retire to their -estates; they obeyed, and their departure secured the tranquillity of -the free and obedient citizens of Rome.</p> - -<p>Never, perhaps, has the energy and effect of a single mind been more -remarkably felt than in the sudden though transient reformation of Rome -by the tribune Rienzi. A den of robbers was converted to the discipline -of a camp or convent; patient to hear, swift to redress, inexorable to -punish, his tribunal was always accessible to the poor and stranger; nor -could birth or dignity or the immunities of the Church protect the -offender or his accomplices. The privileged houses, the private -sanctuaries in Rome, on which no officer of justice would presume to -trespass, were abolished; and he applied the timber and iron of their -barricades in the fortifications of the Capitol. The venerable father of -the Colonna was exposed in his own palace to the double shame of being -desirous and of being unable to protect a criminal. A mule, with a jar -of oil, had been stolen near Capranica, and the lord of the Ursini -family was condemned to restore the damage and to discharge a fine of -four hundred florins for his negligence in guarding the highways. Nor -were the persons of the barons more inviolate than their lands or -houses, and, either from accident or design, the same impartial rigor -was exercised against the heads of the adverse factions.</p> - -<p>Peter Agapet Colonna, who had himself been senator of Rome, was arrested -in the street for injury or debt; and justice was appeased by the tardy -execution of Martin Ursini, who, among his various acts of violence and -rapine, had pillaged a shipwrecked vessel at the mouth of the Tiber.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171">{171}</a></span> -His name, the purple of two cardinals, his uncles, a recent marriage, -and a mortal disease were disregarded by the inflexible tribune, who had -chosen his victim. The public officers dragged him from his palace and -nuptial bed; his trial was short and satisfactory; the bell of the -Capitol convened the people. Stripped of his mantle, on his knees, with -his hands bound behind his back, he heard the sentence of death, and, -after a brief confession, Ursini was led away to the gallows. After such -an example, none who were conscious of guilt could hope for impunity, -and the flight of the wicked, the licentious, and the idle soon purified -the city and territory of Rome. In this time (says the historian) the -woods began to rejoice that they were no longer infested with robbers; -the oxen began to plow; the pilgrims visited the sanctuaries; the roads -and inns were replenished with travelers; trade, plenty, and good faith -were restored in the markets; and a purse of gold might be exposed -without danger in the midst of the highway. As soon as the life and -property of the subject are secure, the labors and rewards of industry -spontaneously revive. Rome was still the metropolis of the Christian -world, and the fame and fortunes of the tribune were diffused in every -country by the strangers who had enjoyed the blessings of his -government.</p> - -<p>The deliverance of his country inspired Rienzi with a vast and perhaps -visionary idea of uniting Italy in a great federative republic, of which -Rome should be the ancient and lawful head, and the free cities and -princes the members and associates. His pen was not less eloquent than -his tongue, and his numerous epistles were delivered to swift and trusty -messengers. On foot, with a white wand in their hand, they traversed the -forests and mountains; enjoyed, in the most hostile states, the sacred -security of ambassadors; and reported, in the style of flattery or -truth, that the highways along their passage were lined with kneeling -multitudes, who implored Heaven for the success of their under<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172">{172}</a></span>taking. -Beyond the Alps, more especially at Avignon, the revolution was the -theme of curiosity, wonder, and applause. Petrarch had been the private -friend, perhaps the secret counselor, of Rienzi; his writings breathe -the most ardent spirit of patriotism and joy; and all respect for the -Pope, all gratitude for the Colonna, was lost in the superior duties of -a Roman citizen. The poet-laureate of the Capitol maintains the act, -applauds the hero, and mingles with some apprehension and advice the -most lofty hopes of the permanent and rising greatness of the republic.</p> - -<p>While Petrarch indulged these prophetic visions the Roman hero was fast -declining from the meridian of fame and power; and the people who had -gazed with astonishment on the ascending meteor began to mark the -irregularity of its course and the vicissitudes of light and obscurity. -More eloquent than judicious, more enterprising than resolute, the -faculties of Rienzi were not balanced by cool and commanding reason; he -magnified in a tenfold proportion the objects of hope and fear; and -prudence, which could not have erected, did not presume to fortify his -throne. In the blaze of prosperity his virtues were insensibly tinctured -with the adjacent vices—justice with cruelty, liberality with -profusion, and the desire of fame with puerile and ostentatious vanity. -He might have learned that the ancient tribunes, so strong and sacred in -the public opinion, were not distinguished in style, habit, or -appearance from an ordinary plebeian; and that as often as they visited -the city on foot a single <i>viator</i>, or beadle, attended the exercise of -their office. The Gracchi would have frowned or smiled could they have -read the sonorous titles and epithets of their successor, “<span class="smcap">Nicholas, -severe and merciful; deliverer of Rome; defender of Italy; friend of -mankind, and of liberty, peace, and justice; tribune august.</span>” His -theatrical pageants had prepared the revolution; but Rienzi abused, in -luxury and pride, the political maxim of speaking to the eyes as well as -the under<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173">{173}</a></span>standing of the multitude. From nature he had received the -gift of a handsome person till it was swelled and disfigured by -intemperance; and his propensity to laughter was corrected in the -magistrate by the affectation of gravity and sternness. He was clothed, -at least on public occasions, in a party-colored robe of velvet or satin -lined with fur and embroidered with gold. The rod of justice, which he -carried in his hand, was a scepter of polished steel, crowned with a -globe and cross of gold, and inclosing a small fragment of the true and -holy wood. In his civil and religious processions through the city he -rode on a white steed, the symbol of royalty. The great banner of the -republic, a sun with a circle of stars, a dove with an olive-branch, was -displayed over his head; a shower of gold and silver was scattered among -the populace; fifty guards with halberds encompassed his person; a troop -of horse preceded his march, and their cymbals and trumpets were of -massy silver.</p> - -<p>These extraordinary spectacles might deceive or flatter the people; and -their own vanity was gratified in the vanity of their leader. But in his -private life he soon deviated from the strict rule of frugality and -abstinence; and the plebeians, who were awed by the splendor of the -nobles, were provoked by the luxury of their equal. His wife, his son, -his uncle (a barber in name and profession), exposed the contrast of -vulgar manners and princely expense; and without acquiring the majesty, -Rienzi degenerated into the vices of a king.</p> - -<h2><a name="TIMOUR_OR_TAMERLANE" id="TIMOUR_OR_TAMERLANE"></a>TIMOUR OR TAMERLANE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Tamerlane, corruption of Timour Lenk (“the lame”), born 1336, died -1405. One of the greatest conquerors of history, he was a second -Genghis Khan, whom he resembled much in character. His descendants -speedily lost the greater part of his conquests, and the last of -his family fell before the power of the English East India Company<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174">{174}</a></span> -in India, of which he had become a mere pensioner, though nominally -the “Great Mogul” and Emperor of Delhi.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> conquest and monarchy of the world was the first object of the -ambition of Timour. To live in the memory and esteem of future ages was -the second wish of his magnanimous spirit. All the civil and military -transactions of his reign were diligently recorded in the journals of -his secretaries; the authentic narrative was revised by the persons best -informed of each particular transaction, and it is believed in the -empire and family of Timour that the monarch himself composed the -“Commentaries” of his life and the “Institutions” of his government. But -these cares were ineffectual for the preservation of his fame, and these -precious memorials in the Mogul or Persian language were concealed from -the world, or at least from the knowledge of Europe. The nations which -he vanquished exercised a base and impotent revenge; and ignorance has -long repeated the tale of calumny which had disfigured the birth and -character, the person, and even the name of <i>Tamerlane</i>. Yet his real -merit would be enhanced, rather than debased, by the elevation of a -peasant to the throne of Asia; nor can his lameness be a theme of -reproach, unless he had the weakness to blush at a natural, or perhaps -an honorable, infirmity.</p> - -<p>In the eyes of the Moguls, who held the indefeasible succession of the -house of Zingis, he was doubtless a rebel subject; yet he sprang from -the noble tribe of Berlass; his fifth ancestor, Carashar Nevian, had -been the vizier of Zagatai in his new realm of Transoxiana; and in the -ascent of some generations the branch of Timour is confounded, at least -by the females, with the imperial stem. He was born forty miles to the -south of Samarcand, in the village of Sebzar, in the fruitful territory -of Cash, of which his fathers were the hereditary chiefs, as well as of -a toman of ten thousand horse. His birth was cast on one of those -periods of anarchy which announce the fall of the Asiatic dynasties, and -opened a new field to adventurous ambition.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175">{175}</a></span> The khans of Zagatai were -extinct, the emirs aspired to independence, and their domestic feuds -could only be suspended by the conquest and tyranny of the khans of -Kashgar, who, with an army of Getes or Calmucks, invaded the Transoxian -kingdom.</p> - -<p>From the twelfth year of his age, Timour had entered the field of -action; in the twenty-fifth he stood forth as the deliverer of his -country; and the eyes and wishes of the people were turned toward a hero -who suffered in their cause. The chiefs of the law and of the army had -pledged their salvation to support him with their lives and fortunes; -but in the hour of danger they were silent and afraid; and, after -waiting seven days on the hills of Samarcand, he retreated to the desert -with only sixty horsemen. The fugitives were overtaken by a thousand -Getes, whom he repulsed with incredible slaughter, and his enemies were -forced to exclaim, “Timour is a wonderful man; fortune and the divine -favor are with him.” But in this bloody action his own followers were -reduced to ten, a number which was soon diminished by the desertion of -three Carizmians. He wandered in the desert with his wife, seven -companions, and four horses; and sixty-two days was he plunged in a -loathsome dungeon, whence he escaped by his own courage and the remorse -of the oppressor. After swimming the broad and rapid stream of the -Jihoon, or Oxus, he led, during some months, the life of a vagrant and -outlaw, on the borders of the adjacent states. But his fame shone -brighter in adversity; he learned to distinguish the friends of his -person, the associates of his fortune, and to apply the various -characters of men for their advantage, and above all for his own. On his -return to his native country, Timour was successively joined by the -parties of his confederates, who anxiously sought him in the desert; nor -can I refuse to describe, in his pathetic simplicity, one of their -fortunate encounters. He presented himself as a guide to three chiefs, -who were at the head of seventy horse. “When their eyes fell upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176">{176}</a></span> me,” -says Timour, “they were overwhelmed with joy; and they alighted from -their horses; and they came and kneeled; and they kissed my stirrup. I -also came down from my horse, and took each of them in my arms. And I -put my turban on the head of the first chief; and my girdle, rich in -jewels and wrought with gold, I bound on the loins of the second; and -the third, I clothed in my own coat. And they wept, and I wept also; and -the hour of prayer was arrived, and we prayed. And we mounted our -horses, and came to my dwelling; and I collected my people, and made a -feast.”</p> - -<p>His trusty hands were soon increased by the bravest of the tribes; he -led them against a superior foe, and after some vicissitudes of war, the -Getes were finally driven from the kingdom of Transoxiana. He had done -much for his own glory, but much remained to be done, much art to be -exerted, and some blood to be spilled, before he could teach his equals -to obey him as their master. The birth and power of Emir Houssein -compelled him to accept a vicious and unworthy colleague, whose sister -was the best beloved of his wives. Their union was short and jealous; -but the policy of Timour in their frequent quarrels exposed his rival to -the reproach of injustice and perfidy; and, after a small defeat, -Houssein was slain by some sagacious friends, who presumed, for the last -time, to disobey the commands of their lord.</p> - -<p>At the age of thirty-four, and in a general diet or <i>couroultai</i>, he was -invested with imperial command, but he affected to revere the house of -Zingis; and while the Emir Timour reigned over Zagatai and the East, a -nominal khan served as a private officer in the armies of his servant. A -fertile kingdom, five hundred miles in length and in breadth, might have -satisfied the ambition of a subject; but Timour aspired to the dominion -of the world, and before his death the crown of Zagatai was one of the -twenty-seven crowns which he had placed on his head.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177">{177}</a></span></p> - -<p>The fame of Timour has pervaded the East and West; his posterity is -still invested with the imperial title; and the admiration of his -subjects, who revered him almost as a deity, may be justified in some -degree by the praise or confession of his bitterest enemies. Although he -was lame of a hand and foot, his form and stature were not unworthy of -his rank; and his vigorous health, so essential to himself and to the -world, was corroborated by temperance and exercise. In his familiar -discourse he was grave and modest, and, if he was ignorant of the Arabic -language, he spoke with fluency and elegance the Persian and Turkish -idioms. It was his delight to converse with the learned on topics of -history and science; and the amusement of his leisure hours was the game -of chess, which he improved or corrupted with new refinements. In his -religion he was a zealous though not perhaps an orthodox Mussulman; but -his sound understanding may tempt us to believe, that a superstitious -reverence for omens and prophecies, for saints and astrologers, was only -affected as an instrument of policy.</p> - -<p>In the government of a vast empire, he stood alone and absolute, without -a rebel to oppose his power, a favorite to seduce his affections, or a -minister to mislead his judgment. It was his firmest maxim that, -whatever might be the consequence, the word of the prince should never -be disputed or recalled; but his foes have maliciously observed that the -commands of anger and destruction were more strictly executed than those -of beneficence and favor. His sons and grandsons, of whom Timour left -six-and-thirty at his decease, were his first and most submissive -subjects; and whenever they deviated from their duty they were -corrected, according to the laws of Zingis, with the bastinado, and -afterward restored to honor and command. Perhaps his heart was not -devoid of the social virtues; perhaps he was not incapable of loving his -friends and pardoning his enemies; but the rules of morality are founded -on the public interest, and it may be sufficient to applaud the wisdom -of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178">{178}</a></span> monarch, for the liberality by which he is not impoverished, and -for the justice by which he is strengthened and enriched. To maintain -the harmony of authority and obedience, to chastise the proud, to -protect the weak, to reward the deserving, to banish vice and idleness -from his dominions, to secure the traveler and merchant, to restrain the -depredations of the soldier, to cherish the labors of the husbandman, to -encourage industry and learning, and, by an equal and moderate -assessment, to increase the revenue, without increasing the taxes—are -indeed the duties of a prince; but, in the discharge of these duties, he -finds an ample and immediate recompense. Timour might boast that at his -accession to the throne Asia was the prey of anarchy and rapine, while -under his prosperous monarchy a child, fearless and unhurt, might carry -a purse of gold from the east to the west. Such was his confidence of -merit, that from this reformation he derived an excuse for his victories -and a title to universal dominion.</p> - -<p>The following observations will serve to appreciate his claim to the -public gratitude; and perhaps we shall conclude that the Mogul emperor -was rather the scourge than the benefactor of mankind. If some partial -disorders, some local oppressions, were healed by the sword of Timour, -the remedy was far more pernicious than the disease. By their rapine, -cruelty, and discord, the petty tyrants of Persia might afflict their -subjects; but whole nations were crushed under the footsteps of the -reformer. The ground which had been occupied by flourishing cities, was -often marked by his abominable trophies—by columns or pyramids of human -heads. Astrakhan, Carizme, Delhi, Ispahan, Bagdad, Aleppo, Damascus, -Boursa, Smyrna, and a thousand others were sacked or burned or utterly -destroyed in his presence and by his troops; and perhaps his conscience -would have been startled if a priest or philosopher had dared to number -the millions of victims whom he had sacrificed to the establishment of -peace and order. His most destructive<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179">{179}</a></span> wars were rather inroads than -conquests. He invaded Turkistan, Kipzak, Russia, Hindostan, Syria, -Anatolia, Armenia, and Georgia, without a hope or a desire of preserving -those distant provinces. Thence he departed laden with spoil; but he -left behind him neither troops to awe the contumacious, nor magistrates -to protect the obedient natives. When he had broken the fabric of their -ancient government he abandoned them to the evils which his invasion had -aggravated or caused; nor were these evils compensated by any present or -possible benefits.</p> - -<p>The kingdoms of Transoxiana and Persia were the proper field which he -labored to cultivate and adorn as the perpetual inheritance of his -family. But his peaceful labors were often interrupted, and sometimes -blasted, by the absence of the conqueror. While he triumphed on the -Volga or the Ganges, his servants, and even his sons, forgot their -master and their duty. The public and private injuries were poorly -redressed by the tardy rigor of inquiry and punishment; and we must be -content to praise the “Institutions” of Timour, as the specious idea of -a perfect monarchy. Whatsoever might be the blessings of his -administration, they evaporated with his life. To reign, rather than to -govern, was the ambition of his children and grandchildren—the enemies -of each other and of the people. A fragment of the empire was upheld -with some glory by Sharokh, his youngest son; but after <i>his</i> decease, -the scene was again involved in darkness and blood, and, before the end -of a century, Transoxiana and Persia were trampled by the Uzbecks from -the north, and the Turkomans of the black and white sheep. The race of -Timour would have been extinct, if a hero, his descendant in the fifth -degree, had not fled before the Uzbeck arms to the conquest of -Hindostan. His successors (the great Moguls) extended their sway from -the mountains of Cashmir to Cape Comorin, and from Candahar to the Gulf -of Bengal. Since the reign of Aurungzebe, their empire has been -dissolved, the treasures<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180">{180}</a></span> of Delhi have been rifled by a Persian robber, -and the richest of their kingdoms is now possessed by a company of -Christian merchants, of a remote island in the northern ocean.<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></p> - -<h2><a name="JEANNE_DARC" id="JEANNE_DARC"></a>JEANNE D’ARC.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[A French heroine, otherwise known as La Pucelle and the Maid of -Orleans, date of birth uncertain, burned at the stake by English -influence as a sorceress at Rouen in 1431. Her enthusiasm and the -belief in the supernatural mission so inspired the French and -daunted the English as to turn the tide of war against the latter, -and was a main cause of ending that series of English invasions -which had imperiled the national existence of France.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jeanne d’Arc</span> was the child of a laborer of Domrémy, a little village in -the neighborhood of Vaucouleurs on the borders of Lorraine and -Champagne. Just without the cottage where she was born began the great -woods of the Vosges, where the children of Domrémy drank in poetry and -legend from fairy ring and haunted well, hung their flower garlands on -the sacred trees, and sang songs to the “good people,” who might not -drink of the fountain because of their sins. Jeanne loved the forest; -its birds and beasts came lovingly to her at her childish call. But at -home men saw nothing in her but “a good girl, simple and pleasant in her -ways,” spinning and sewing by her mother’s side while the other girls -went to the fields, attended to the poor and sick, fond of church, and -listening to the church-bell with a dreamy passion of delight which -never left her. The quiet life was soon broken by the storm of war as it -at last came home to Domrémy. As the outcasts and wounded<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181">{181}</a></span> passed by the -young peasant-girl gave them her bed and nursed them in their sickness. -Her whole nature summed itself up in one absorbing passion: she “had -pity,” to use the phrase forever on her lip, “on the fair realm of -France.”</p> - -<p>As her passion grew she recalled old prophecies that a maid from the -Lorraine border should save the land; she saw visions; St. Michael -appeared to her in a flood of blinding light, and bade her go to the -help of the king and restore to him his realm. “Messire,” answered the -girl, “I am but a poor maiden; I know not how to ride to the wars, or to -lead men-at-arms.” The archangel returned to give her courage, and to -tell her of “the pity” that there was in heaven for the fair realm of -France. The girl wept, and longed that the angels who appeared to her -would carry her away, but her mission was clear. It was in vain that her -father, when he heard her purpose, swore to drown her ere she should go -to the field with men-at-arms. It was in vain that the priest, the wise -people of the village, the captain of Vaucouleurs, doubted and refused -to aid her. “I must go to the king,” persisted the peasant-girl, “even -if I wear my limbs to the very knees.... I had far rather rest and spin -by my mother’s side,” she pleaded, with a touching pathos, “for this is -no work of my choosing, but I must go and do it, for my Lord wills it.” -“And who,” they asked, “is your Lord?” “He is God.” Words such as these -touched the rough captain at last; he took Jeanne by the hand and swore -to lead her to the king. When she reached Chinon she found hesitation -and doubt. The theologians proved from their books that they ought not -to believe her. “There is more in God’s book than in yours,” Jeanne -answered, simply. At last Charles received her in the midst of a throng -of nobles and soldiers. “Gentle Dauphin,” said the girl, “my name is -Jeanne the Maid. The heavenly King sends me to tell you that you shall -be anointed and crowned in the town of Rheims, and you shall be -lieutenant of the heavenly King who is the King of France.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182">{182}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>The girl was in her eighteenth year, tall, finely formed, with all the -vigor and activity of her peasant rearing, able to stay from dawn to -nightfall on horseback without meat or drink. As she mounted her -charger, clad in white armor from head to foot, with the great white -banner studded with <i>fleur-de-lis</i> waving over her head, she seemed “a -thing wholly divine, whether to see or hear.” The ten thousand -men-at-arms who followed her from Blois, rough plunderers whose only -prayer was that of La Hire, “Sire Dieu, I pray you to do for La Hire -what La Hire would do for you were you captain-at-arms and he God,” left -off their oaths and foul living at her word and gathered round the -altars on their march. Her shrewd peasant humor helped her to manage the -wild soldiery, and her followers laughed over their camp-fires at the -old warrior who had been so puzzled by her prohibition of oaths that she -suffered him still to swear by his <i>bâton</i>. In the midst of her -enthusiasm her good sense never left her. The people crowded round her -as she rode along, praying her to work miracles, and bringing crosses -and chaplets to be blessed by her touch. “Touch them yourself,” she said -to an old Dame Margaret; “your touch will be just as good as mine.” But -her faith in her mission remained as firm as ever. “The Maid prays and -requires you,” she wrote to Bedford, “to work no more distraction in -France, but to come in her company to rescue the Holy Sepulchre from the -Turk.”—“I bring you,” she told Dunois when he sallied out of Orleans to -meet her, “the best aid ever sent to any one, the aid of the King of -Heaven.”</p> - -<p>The besiegers looked on overawed as she entered Orleans, and, riding -round the walls, bade the people look fearlessly on the dreaded forts -which surrounded them. Her enthusiasm drove the hesitating generals to -engage the handful of besiegers, and the enormous disproportion of -forces at once made itself felt. Fort after fort was taken till only the -strongest remained, and then the council of war resolved to adjourn the -attack. “You have taken your counsel,” re<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183">{183}</a></span>plied Jeanne, “and I take -mine.” Placing herself at the head of the men-at-arms, she ordered the -gates to be thrown open, and led them against the fort. Few as they -were, the English fought desperately, and the Maid, who had fallen -wounded while endeavoring to scale its walls, was borne into a vineyard, -while Dunois sounded the retreat. “Wait a while!” the girl imperiously -pleaded, “eat and drink! So soon as my standard touches the wall you -shall enter the fort.” It touched, and the assailants burst in. On the -next day the siege was abandoned, and the force which had conducted it -withdrew in good order to the north.</p> - -<p>In the midst of her triumph, Jeanne still remained the pure, -tender-hearted peasant-girl of the Vosges. Her first visit as she -entered Orleans was to the great church, and there, as she knelt at -mass, she wept in such a passion of devotion that “all the people wept -with her.” Her tears burst forth afresh at her first sight of bloodshed -and of the corpses strewed over the battle-field. She grew frightened at -her first wound, and only threw off the touch of womanly fear when she -heard the signal for retreat.</p> - -<p>Yet more womanly was the purity with which she passed through the brutal -warriors of a mediæval camp. It was her care for her honor that had led -her to clothe herself in a soldier’s dress. She wept hot tears when told -of the foul taunts of the English, and called passionately on God to -witness her chastity. “Yield thee, yield thee, Glasdale,” she cried to -the English warrior whose insults had been foulest, as he fell wounded -at her feet; “you called me harlot! I have great pity on your soul.” But -all thought of herself was lost in the thought of her mission. It was in -vain that the French generals strove to remain on the Loire. Jeanne was -resolute to complete her task, and, while the English remained -panic-stricken around Paris, the army followed her from Gien through -Troyes, growing in number as it advanced, till it reached the gates of -Rheims. With the coronation of Charles, the Maid felt her errand to be -over.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184">{184}</a></span> “O gentle king, the pleasure of God is done!” she cried, as she -flung herself at the feet of Charles VII, and asked leave to go home. -“Would it were his pleasure,” she pleaded with the archbishop, as he -forced her to remain, “that I might go and keep sheep once more with my -sisters and my brothers; they would be so glad to see me again!”</p> - -<p>The policy of the French court detained her while the cities of the -north of France opened their gates to the newly consecrated king. -Bedford, however, who had been left without money or men, had now -received re-enforcements, and Charles, after a repulse before the walls -of Paris, fell back behind the Loire, while the towns on the Oise -submitted again to the Duke of Burgundy. In this later struggle Jeanne -fought with her usual bravery, but with the fatal consciousness that her -mission was at an end, and during the defense of Compiègne she fell into -the power of the Bastard of Vendôme, to be sold by her captor into the -hands of the Duke of Burgundy, and by the duke into the hands of the -English. To the English her triumphs were victories of sorcery, and -after a year’s imprisonment she was brought to trial on a charge of -heresy before an ecclesiastical court with the Bishop of Beauvais at its -head. Throughout the long process which followed every art was employed -to entangle her in her talk. But the simple shrewdness of the -peasant-girl foiled the efforts of her judges. “Do you believe,” they -asked, “that you are in a state of grace?” “If I am not,” she replied, -“God will put me in it. If I am, God will keep me in it.” Her capture, -they argued, showed that God had forsaken her. “Since it has pleased God -that I should be taken,” she answered, meekly, “it is for the best.” -“Will you submit,” they demanded, at last, “to the judgment of the -Church militant?” “I have come to the King of France,” Jeanne replied, -“by commission from God and from the Church triumphant above; to that -Church I submit.... I had far rather die,” she ended, passionately, -“than renounce what I have done by my Lor<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185">{185}</a></span>d’s command.” They deprived -her of mass. “Our Lord can make me hear it without your aid,” she said, -weeping. “Do your voices,” asked the judges, “forbid you to submit to -the Church and the Pope?” “Ah, no! Our Lord first served.”</p> - -<p>Sick, and deprived of all religious aid, it is no wonder that, as the -long trial dragged on and question followed question, Jeanne’s firmness -wavered. On the charge of sorcery and diabolical possession she still -appealed firmly to God. “I hold to my Judge,” she said, as her earthly -judges gave sentence against her, “to the King of Heaven and Earth. God -has always been my lord in all that I have done. The devil has never had -power over me.” It was only with a view to be delivered from the -military prison and transferred to the prisons of the Church that she -consented to a formal abjuration of heresy. She feared, in fact, among -the English soldiery those outrages to her honor, to guard against which -she had from the first assumed the dress of a man. In the eyes of the -Church her dress was a crime, and she abandoned it; but a renewed insult -forced her to resume the one safeguard left her, and the return to it -was treated as a relapse into heresy, which doomed her to death. A great -pile was raised in the market-place of Rouen where her statue stands -now. Even the brutal soldiers who snatched the hated “witch” from the -hands of the clergy and hurried her to her doom were hushed as she -reached the stake. One indeed passed to her a rough cross he had made -from a stick he held, and she clasped it to her bosom. “O Rouen, Rouen!” -she was heard to murmur, as her eyes ranged over the city from the lofty -scaffold, “I have great fear lest you suffer for my death.... Yes; my -voices were of God!” she suddenly cried, as the last moment came; “they -have never deceived me!” Soon the flames reached her, the girl’s head -sank on her breast, there was one cry of “Jesus!” “We are lost,” an -English soldier muttered, as the crowd broke up; “we have burned a -saint!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186">{186}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a name="MAHOMET_OR_MOHAMMED_II" id="MAHOMET_OR_MOHAMMED_II"></a>MAHOMET OR MOHAMMED II.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By EDWARD GIBBON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Surnamed the Great and the Victorious, born 1430, died 1481. His -main title to fame is that he consummated the dreams of his -predecessors, and after a siege of nearly two months, with a force -of two hundred and fifty thousand men and a large fleet, carried -the city of Constantinople by storm on May 29, 1453.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> siege of Constantinople by the Turks attracts our first attention to -the person and character of the great destroyer. Mahomet II was the son -of the second Amurath; and though his mother had been decorated with the -titles of Christian and princess, she is more probably confounded with -the numerous concubines who peopled from every climate the harem of the -sultan. His first education and sentiments were those of a devout -Mussulman; and as often as he conversed with an infidel, he purified his -hands and face by the legal rites of ablution. Age and empire appear to -have relaxed this narrow bigotry; his aspiring genius disdained to -acknowledge a power above his own, and in his looser hours he presumed -(it is said) to brand the Prophet of Mecca as a robber and impostor. Yet -the sultan persevered in a decent reverence for the doctrine and -discipline of the Koran. His private indiscretion must have been sacred -from the vulgar ear, and we should suspect the credulity of strangers -and sectaries, so prone to believe that a mind which is hardened against -truth must be armed with superior contempt for absurdity and error. -Under the tuition of the most skillful masters, Mahomet advanced with an -early and rapid progress in the paths of knowledge; and, besides his -native tongue, it is affirmed that he spoke or understood five -languages—the Arabic, the Persian, the Chaldean or Hebrew, the Latin, -and the Greek. The Persian might indeed contribute to his amusement, and -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187">{187}</a></span> Arabic to his edification; and such studies are familiar to the -Oriental youth. In the intercourse of the Greeks and Turks, a conqueror -might wish to converse with the people over whom he was ambitious to -reign; his own praises in Latin poetry or prose might find a passage to -the royal ear; but what use or merit could recommend to the statesman or -the scholar the uncouth dialect of his Hebrew slaves?</p> - -<p>The history and geography of the world were familiar to his memory; the -lives of the heroes of the East, perhaps of the West, excited his -emulation; his skill in astrology is excused by the folly of the times, -and supposes some rudiments of mathematical science; and a profane taste -for the arts is betrayed in his liberal invitation and reward of the -painters of Italy. But the influence of religion and learning was -employed without effect on his savage and licentious nature. I will not -transcribe, nor do I firmly believe, the stories of his fourteen pages, -whose bellies were ripped open in search of a stolen melon, or of the -beauteous slave whose head he severed from her body, to convince the -Janizaries that their master was not the votary of love. His sobriety is -attested by the silence of the Turkish annals, which accuse three, and -three only, of the Ottoman line of the vice of drunkenness.</p> - -<p>But it can not be denied that his passions were at once furious and -inexorable; that in the palace, as in the field, a torrent of blood was -spilled on the slightest provocation; and that the noblest of the -captive youth were often dishonored by his unnatural lust. In the -Albanian war he studied the lessons, and soon surpassed the example, of -his father; and the conquest of two empires, twelve kingdoms, and two -hundred cities—a vain and flattering account—is ascribed to his -invincible sword. He was doubtless a soldier, and possibly a general. -Constantinople has sealed his glory; but if we compare the means, the -obstacles, and the achievements, Mahomet II must blush to sustain a -parallel with Alexander or Timour. Under his command, the Ottoman forces -were<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188">{188}</a></span> always more numerous than their enemies; yet their progress was -bounded by the Euphrates and the Adriatic, and his arms were checked by -Huniades and Scanderbeg, by the Rhodian knights and by the Persian king.</p> - -<p>In the reign of Amurath he twice (<small>A.D.</small> 1451, February 9—<small>A. D.</small> 1481, -July 2) tasted of royalty, and twice descended from the throne; his -tender age was incapable of opposing his father’s restoration, but never -could he forgive the viziers who had recommended that salutary measure. -His nuptials were celebrated with the daughter of a Turkoman emir, and -after a festival of two months he departed from Adrianople with his -bride to reside in the government of Magnesia. Before the end of six -weeks he was recalled by a sudden message from the divan, which -announced the decease of Amurath and the mutinous spirit of the -Janizaries. His speed and vigor commanded their obedience; he passed the -Hellespont with a chosen guard, and at a distance of a mile from -Adrianople, the viziers and emirs, the imams and cadis, the soldiers and -the people, fell prostrate before the new sultan. They affected to weep, -they affected to rejoice. He ascended the throne at the age of -twenty-one years, and removed the cause of sedition by the death, the -inevitable death, of his infant brothers. The ambassadors of Europe and -Asia soon appeared to congratulate his accession and solicit his -friendship, and to all he spoke the language of moderation and peace. -The confidence of the Greek emperor was revived by the solemn oaths and -fair assurances with which he sealed the ratification of the treaty; and -a rich domain on the banks of the Strymon was assigned for the annual -payment of three hundred thousand aspers, the pension of an Ottoman -prince, who was detained at his request in the Byzantine court. Yet the -neighbors of Mahomet might tremble at the severity with which a youthful -monarch reformed the pomp of his father’s household; the expenses of -luxury were applied to those of ambition, and a useless train of seven -thousand falconers was either dismissed from his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189">{189}</a></span> service or enlisted in -his troops. In the first summer of his reign he visited with an army the -Asiatic provinces; but after humbling the pride, Mahomet accepted the -submission, of the Caramanian, that he might not be diverted by the -smallest obstacle from the execution of his great design.</p> - -<p>The Mahometan, and more especially the Turkish casuists, have pronounced -that no promise can bind the faithful against the interest and duty of -their religion, and that the sultan may abrogate his own treaties and -those of his predecessors. The justice and magnanimity of Amurath had -scorned this immoral privilege; but his son, though the proudest of men, -could stoop from ambition to the basest arts of dissimulation and -deceit. Peace was on his lips, while war was in his heart; he -incessantly sighed for the possession of Constantinople; and the Greeks, -by their own indiscretion, afforded the first pretense of the fatal -rupture.</p> - -<p>From the first hour of the memorable 29th of May, when the beleaguered -city was carried by storm, disorder and rapine prevailed in -Constantinople till the eighth hour of the same day, when the sultan -himself passed in triumph through the gate of St. Romanus. He was -attended by his viziers, bashaws, and guards, each of whom (says a -Byzantine historian) was robust as Hercules, dexterous as Apollo, and -equal in battle to any ten of the race of ordinary mortals. The -conqueror gazed with satisfaction and wonder on the strange though -splendid appearance of the domes and palaces, so dissimilar from the -style of Oriental architecture. In the hippodrome, or <i>atmeidan</i>, his -eye was attracted by the twisted column of the three serpents; and as a -trial of his strength he shattered with his iron mace or battle-axe the -under jaw of one of these monsters, which in the eyes of the Turks were -the idols or talismans of the city. At the principal door of St. Sophia -he alighted from his horse and entered the dome; and such was his -jealous regard for that monument of his glory, that on observing a -zealous Mussulman in the act of breaking the marble pavement, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190">{190}</a></span> -admonished him with his cimeter, that, if the spoil and captives were -granted to the soldiers, the public and private buildings had been -reserved for the prince. By his command the metropolis of the Eastern -Church was transformed into a mosque, the rich and portable instruments -of superstition had been removed; the crosses were thrown down, and the -walls, which were covered with images and mosaics, were washed and -purified and restored to a state of naked simplicity. On the same day, -or on the ensuing Friday, the <i>muezzin</i> or crier ascended the most lofty -turret, and proclaimed the <i>ezan</i>, or public invitation, in the name of -God and his prophet. The imam preached, and Mahomet II performed the -<i>namaz</i> of prayer and thanksgiving on the great altar where the -Christian mysteries had so lately been celebrated before the last of the -Cæsars. From St. Sophia he proceeded to the august but desolate mansion -of a hundred successors of the great Constantine, but which in a few -hours had been stripped of the pomp of royalty. A melancholy reflection -on the vicissitudes of human greatness forced itself on his mind; and he -repeated an elegant distich of Persian poetry: “The spider hath wove his -web in the imperial palace; and the owl hath sung her watch-song on the -towers of Afrasiab.”</p> - -<h2><a name="LORENZO_DE_MEDICI" id="LORENZO_DE_MEDICI"></a>LORENZO DE’ MEDICI.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Surnamed the “Magnificent,” born 1448, died 1492. The Medici -family had in the latter part of the fourteenth century become one -of the most influential and powerful in the Florentine Republic. It -had amassed vast wealth in the pursuits of commerce, and spent it -with the munificence of the most public-spirited princes. Cosmo de’ -Medici about the year 1420 became the leading man of the state, and -practically exercised control over the republic, though without -definite authority, as ruler. The splendor of the family culminated -in his grandson Lorenzo, who for a quarter of a century held the -powers of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191">{191}</a></span> the state in the palm of his hand, and made the city of -Florence the most brilliant center of literature, learning, art, -and refined luxury in Europe. Though he curtailed the liberties of -the people, the city reached under him the highest degree of -opulence and power it had ever attained. Eminent as statesman, -poet, and scholar, the enthusiastic patron of authors and artists, -munificent in his endowment of schools and libraries, he was the -most favorable example of the Italian tyrants of the middle ages; -and his life was the source of a stream of influences which helped -to revolutionize his own age and that which succeeded it.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> one point Lorenzo was inferior to his grandfather. He had no -commercial talent. After suffering the banking business of the Medici to -fall into disorder, he became virtually bankrupt, while his personal -expenditure kept continually increasing. In order to retrieve his -fortunes it was necessary for him to gain complete disposal of the -public purse. This was the real object of the constitutional revolution -of 1480, whereby his privy council assumed the active functions of the -state. Had Lorenzo been as great in finance as in the management of men, -the way might have been smoothed for his son Piero in the disastrous -year of 1494.</p> - -<p>If Lorenzo neglected the pursuit of wealth, whereby Cosmo had raised -himself from insignificance to the dictatorship of Florence, he -surpassed his grandfather in the use he made of literary patronage. It -is not paradoxical to affirm that in his policy we can trace the -subordination of a genuine love of art and letters to statecraft. The -new culture was one of the instruments that helped to build his -despotism. Through his thorough and enthusiastic participation in the -intellectual interests of his age, he put himself into close sympathy -with the Florentines, who were glad to acknowledge for their leader by -far the ablest of the men of parts in Italy.</p> - -<p>According as we choose our point of view, we may regard him either as a -tyrant, involving his country in debt and dangerous wars, corrupting the -morals and enfeebling the spirit of the people, and systematically -enslaving the Athens<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192">{192}</a></span> of the modern world for the sake of founding a -petty principality; or else as the most liberal-minded noble of his -epoch, born to play the first part in the Florentine Republic, and -careful to use his wealth and influence for the advancement of his -fellow-citizens in culture, learning, arts, and the amenities of life. -Savonarola and the Florentine historians adopt the former of these two -opinions. Sismondi, in his passion for liberty, arrays against Lorenzo -the political assassinations he permitted, the enervation of Florence, -the national debt incurred by the republic, and the exhausting wars with -Sixtus carried on in his defense.</p> - -<p>His panegyrists, on the contrary, love to paint him as the pacificator -of Italy, the restorer of Florentine poetry, the profound critic, and -the generous patron. The truth lies in the combination of these two -apparently contradictory judgments. Lorenzo was the representative man -of his nation at a moment when political institutions were everywhere -inclining to despotism, and when the spiritual life of the Italians -found its noblest expression in art and literature. The principality of -Florence was thrust upon him by the policy of Cosimo, by the vote of the -chief citizens, and by the example of the sister republics, all of whom, -with the exception of Venice, submitted to the sway of rulers. Had he -wished, he might have found it difficult to preserve the commonwealth in -its integrity. Few but <i>doctrinaires</i> believed in a <i>governo misto</i>; -only aristocrats desired a <i>governo stretto</i>; all but democrats dreaded -a <i>governo largo</i>. And yet a new constitution must have been framed -after one of these types, and the Florentines must have been educated to -use it with discretion, before Lorenzo could have resigned his office of -dictator with any prospect of freedom for the city in his charge. Such -unselfish patriotism, in the face of such overwhelming difficulties, and -in antagonism to the whole tendency of the age, was not to be expected -from an oligarch of the Renaissance born in the purple, and used from -infancy to intrigue.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193">{193}</a></span></p> - -<p>Lorenzo was a man of marvelous variety and range of mental power. He -possessed one of those rare natures fitted to comprehend all knowledge -and to sympathize with the most diverse forms of life. While he never -for one moment relaxed his grasp on politics, among philosophers he -passed for a sage, among men of letters for an original and graceful -poet, among scholars for a Grecian sensitive to every nicety of Attic -idiom, among artists for an amateur gifted with refined discernment and -consummate taste. Pleasure-seekers knew in him the libertine who jousted -with the boldest, danced and masqueraded with the merriest, sought -adventures in the streets at night, and joined the people in their -May-day games and carnival festivities. The pious extolled him as an -author of devotional lauds and mystery-plays, a profound theologian, a -critic of sermons. He was no less famous for his jokes and repartees -than for his pithy apothegms and maxims, as good a judge of cattle as of -statues, as much at home in the bosom of his family as in the riot of an -orgy, as ready to discourse on Plato as to plan a campaign or to plot -the death of a dangerous citizen.</p> - -<p>An apologist may always plead that Lorenzo was the epitome of his -nation’s most distinguished qualities, that the versatility of the -Renaissance found in him its fullest incarnation. It was the duty of -Italy in the fifteenth century not to establish religious or -constitutional liberty, but to resuscitate culture. Before the -disastrous wars of invasion had begun, it might well have seemed even to -patriots as though Florence needed a Mæcenas more than a Camillus. -Therefore, the prince who in his own person combined all -accomplishments, who knew by sympathy and counsel how to stimulate the -genius of men superior to himself in special arts and sciences, who -spent his fortune lavishly on works of public usefulness, whose palace -formed the rallying-point of wit and learning, whose council-chamber was -the school of statesmen, who expressed his age in every word and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194">{194}</a></span> every -act, in his vices and his virtues, his crimes and generous deeds, can -not be fairly judged by an abstract standard of republican morality. It -is nevertheless true that Lorenzo enfeebled and enslaved Florence. At -his death he left her socially more dissolute, politically weaker, -intellectually more like himself, than he found her. He had not the -greatness to rise above the spirit of his century, or to make himself -the Pericles instead of the Pisistratus of his republic. In other words, -he was adequate, not superior to, Renaissance Italy.</p> - -<p>This, then, was the man round whom the greatest scholars of the third -period assembled, at whose table sat Angelo, Poliziano, Cristoforo -Landino, Marsilio Ficino, Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Leo Battista -Alberti, Michael Angelo Buonarotti, Luigi Pulci. The mere enumeration of -these names suffices to awake a crowd of memories in the mind of those -to whom Italian art and poetry are dear. Lorenzo’s villas, where this -brilliant circle met for grave discourse or social converse, heightening -the sober pleasures of Italian country life with all that wit and -learning could produce of delicate and rare, have been so often sung by -poets and celebrated by historians that Careggi, Caffagiolo, and Poggio -a Cajano are no less familiar to us than the studious shades of Academe. -“In a villa overhanging the towers of Florence,” writes the austere -Hallam, moved to more than usual eloquence in the spirit-stirring beauty -of his theme, “on the steep slope of that lofty hill crowned by the -mother city, the ancient Fiesole, in gardens which Tully might have -envied, with Ficino, Landino, and Politian at his side, he delighted his -hours of leisure with the beautiful visions of Platonic philosophy, for -which the summer stillness of an Italian sky appears the most congenial -accompaniment.” As we climb the steep slope of Fiesole or linger beneath -the rose trees that shed their petals from Careggi’s garden walls, once -more in our imagination “the world’s great age begins anew”; once more -the blossoms of that marvelous spring<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195">{195}</a></span> unclose. While the sun goes down -beneath the mountains of Carrara, and the Apennines grow purple-golden, -and Florence sleeps beside the silvery Arno, and the large Italian stars -come forth above, we remember how those mighty master spirits watched -the sphering of new planets in the spiritual skies. Savonarola in his -cell below once more sits brooding over the servility of Florence, the -corruption of a godless church. Michael Angelo, seated between Ficino -and Poliziano, with the voices of the prophets vibrating in his memory, -and with the music of Plato sounding in his ears, rests chin on hand and -elbow upon knee, like his own Jeremiah, lost in contemplation, whereof -the after-fruits shall be the Sistine Chapel and the Medicean tombs. -Then, when the strain of thought, “unsphering Plato from the skies,” -begins to weary, Pulci breaks the silence with a brand-new canto of -Morgante, or a singing boy is bidden to tune his mandoline to Messer -Angelo’s last made <i>ballatta</i>.</p> - -<h2><a name="GIROLAMO_SAVONAROLA" id="GIROLAMO_SAVONAROLA"></a>GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[An Italian reformer, a member of the Dominican order of monks, -born 1452, executed 1498. His fervid eloquence as a preacher, and -his fierce denunciation of the vice and corruption of the Italian -Renaissance speedily made Savonarola a power to be reckoned with in -Florentine affairs. After the death of Lorenzo the Magnificent, the -prophet’s activity extended to political as well as religious -ideals, and he preached an austere theocratic republic and the -deposition of the Pope. The return of the Medici family to power -was the downfall of Savonarola’s hopes; and he and two of his -companion reformers were strangled and their bodies burned.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">We</span> now visit San Gemignano in order to study some fading frescoes of -Gozzoli and Ghirlandajo, or else for the sake of its strange feudal -towers, tall pillows of brown stone, crowded together within the narrow -circle of the town walls.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196">{196}</a></span> Very beautiful is the prospect from these -ramparts on a spring morning, when the song of nightingales and the -scent of acacia flowers ascend together from the groves upon the slopes -beneath. The gray Tuscan landscape for scores and scores of miles all -round melts into blueness, like the blueness of the sky, flecked here -and there with wandering cloud-shadows. Let those who pace the -grass-grown streets of the hushed city remember that here the first -flash of authentic genius kindled in Savonarola’s soul. Here for the -first time he prophesied, “The Church will be scourged, then -regenerated, and this quickly.” These are the celebrated three -conclusions, the three points to which Savonarola in all his prophetic -utterances adhered.</p> - -<p>But not yet had he fully entered on his vocation. His voice was weak, -his style uncertain; his soul, we may believe still wavering between -strange dread and awful joy, as he beheld, through many a backward -rolling mist of doubt, the mantle of the prophets descend upon him. -Already he had abandoned the schoolmen for the Bible. Already he had -learned by heart each voice of the Old and New Testaments. Pondering on -their texts, he had discovered four separate interpretations for every -suggestion of Sacred Writ. For some of the pregnant utterances of the -prophets he found hundreds, pouring forth metaphor and illustration in -wild and dazzling profusion of audacious, uncouth imagery. The flame -which began to smolder in him at San Gemignano burst forth into a blaze -at Brescia, in 1486. Savonarola was now aged thirty-four. “Midway upon -the path of life,” he opened the book of Revelation; he figured to the -people of Brescia the four-and-twenty elders rising to denounce the sins -of Italy, and to declare the calamities that must ensue. He pictured to -them their city flowing with blood. His voice, which now became the -interpreter of his soul, in its resonance and earnestness and piercing -shrillness, thrilled his hearers with strange terror. Already they -believed his prophecy; and twenty-six years later, when the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197">{197}</a></span> soldiers of -Gascon de Foix slaughtered six thousand souls in the streets of Brescia, -her citizens recalled the apocalyptic warnings of the Dominican monk.</p> - -<p>As Savonarola is now launched upon his vocation of prophecy, this is the -right moment to describe his personal appearance and his style of -preaching. We have abundant material for judging what his features were, -and how they flashed beneath the storm of inspiration. Fra Bartolommeo, -one of his followers, painted a profile of him in the character of St. -Peter Martyr. This shows all the benignity and grace of expression which -his stern lineaments could assume. It is a picture of the sweet and -gentle nature latent within the fiery arraigner of his nation at the bar -of God. In contemporary medals the face appears hard, keen, -uncompromising, beneath its heavy cowl. But the noblest portrait is an -intaglio engraved by Giovanni della Corniole, now to be seen in the -Uffizi at Florence. Of this work Michael Angelo, himself a disciple of -Savonarola, said that art could go no further. We are therefore -justified in assuming that the engraver has not only represented fully -the outline of Savonarola’s face, but has also indicated his peculiar -expression.</p> - -<p>A thick hood covers the whole head and shoulders. Beneath it can be -traced the curve of a long and somewhat flat skull, rounded into -extraordinary fullness at the base and side. From a deeply sunken -eye-socket emerges, scarcely seen, but powerfully felt, the eye that -blazed with lightning. The nose is strong, prominent, and aquiline, with -wide nostrils, capable of terrible dilation under the stress of vehement -emotion. The mouth has full, compressed, projecting lips. It is large, -as if made for a torrent of eloquence; it is supplied with massive -muscles, as if to move with energy and calculated force and utterance. -The jaw-bone is hard and heavy, the cheek-bone emergent; between the two -the flesh is hollowed, not so much with the emaciation of monastic -vigils as with the athletic exercise<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198">{198}</a></span> of wrestling in the throes of -prophecy. The face, on the whole, is ugly, but not repellent; and, in -spite of its great strength, it shows signs of feminine sensibility. -Like the faces of Cicero and Demosthenes, it seems the fit machine for -oratory. But the furnaces hidden away behind that skull, beneath that -cowl, have made it haggard with a fire not to be found in the serener -features of the classic orators. Savonarola was a visionary and a monk.</p> - -<p>The discipline of the cloister left its trace upon him. The wings of -dreams have winnowed and withered that cheek as they passed over it. The -spirit of prayer quivers upon those eager lips. The color of -Savonarola’s flesh was brown; his nerves were exquisitely sensitive yet -strong; like a network of wrought steel, elastic, easily overstrained, -they recovered their tone and temper less by repose than by the -evolution of fresh electricity. With Savonarola fasts were succeeded by -trances, and trances by tempests of vehement improvisation. From the -midst of such profound debility that he could scarcely crawl up the -pulpit steps, he would pass suddenly into the plenitude of power, -filling the Dome of Florence with denunciations, sustaining his -discourse by no mere trick of rhetoric that flows to waste upon the lips -of shallow preachers, but marshaling the phalanx of embattled arguments -and pointed illustrations, pouring his thought forth in columns of -continuous flame, mingling figures of sublimest imagery with reasonings -of severest accuracy, at one time melting his audience to tears, at -another freezing them with terror, again quickening their souls with -prayers and pleadings and blessings that had in them the sweetness of -the very spirit of Christ.</p> - -<p>His sermons began with scholastic exposition; as they advanced, the -ecstasy of inspiration fell upon the preacher, till the sympathies of -the whole people of Florence gathered round him, met and attained, as it -were, to single consciousness in him. He then no longer restrained the -impulse of his oratory, but became the mouth-piece of God, the -in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199">{199}</a></span>terpreter to themselves of all that host. In a fiery <i>crescendo</i>, -never flagging, never losing firmness of grasp or lucidity of vision, he -ascended the altar-steps of prophecy, and, standing like Moses on the -mount between the thunders of God and the tabernacles of the plain, -fulminated period after period of impassioned eloquence. The walls of -the church re-echoed with sobs and wailings, dominated by one ringing -voice.</p> - -<p>The scribe to whom we owe the fragments of these sermons at times breaks -off with these words: “Here I was so overcome with weeping that I could -not go on.” Pico della Mirandola tells us that the mere sound of -Savonarola’s voice, startling the stillness of the Duomo, thronged -through all its space with people, was like a clap of doom; a cold -shiver ran through the marrow of his bones, the hairs of his head stood -on end, as he listened. Another witness reports: “These sermons caused -such terror, alarm, sobbing, and tears that every one passed through the -streets without speaking, more dead than alive.”</p> - -<p>Such was the preacher, and such was the effect of his oratory. The theme -on which he loved to dwell was this: “Repent! A judgment of God is at -hand. A sword is suspended over you. Italy is doomed for her -iniquity—for the sins of the Church, whose adulteries have filled the -world—for the sins of the tyrants who encourage crime and trample upon -souls—for the sins of you people, you fathers and mothers, you young -men, you maidens, you children that lisp blasphemy!” Nor did Savonarola -deal in generalities. He described in plain language every vice; he laid -bare every abuse; so that a mirror was held up to the souls of his -hearers, in which they saw their most secret faults appallingly betrayed -and ringed around with fire. He entered with particularity into the -details of the coming woes. One by one he enumerated the bloodshed, the -ruin of cities, the trampling down of provinces, the passage of armies, -the desolating wars that were about to fall on Italy. You may<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200">{200}</a></span> read -pages of his sermons which seem like vivid narratives of what afterward -took place in the sack of Prato, in the storming of Brescia, in the -battle of the Ronco, in the cavern-massacre of Vicenza. No wonder that -he stirred his audience to their center. The hell within them was -revealed. The coming down above them was made manifest. Ezekiel and -Jeremiah were not more prophetic. John crying to a generation of vipers, -“Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” was not more weighty -with the mission of authentic inspiration.</p> - -<p>“I began,” Savonarola writes himself with reference to a course of -sermons delivered in 1491—“I began publicly to expound the Revelation -in our Church of St. Mark. During the course of the year I continued to -develop to the Florentines these three propositions: That the Church -would be renewed in our time; that before that renovation God would -strike all Italy with a fearful chastisement; that these things would -happen shortly.” It is by right of the foresight of a new age, contained -in these three famous so-called conclusions, that Savonarola deserves to -be named the Prophet of the Renaissance. He was no apostle of reform; it -did not occur to him to reconstruct the creed, to dispute the discipline -or to criticise the authority of the Church. He was no founder of a new -order; unlike his predecessors, Dominic and Francis, he never attempted -to organize a society of saints or preachers; unlike his successors, -Caraffe the Theatine, and Loyola the Jesuit, he enrolled no militia for -the defense of the faith, constructed no machinery for education. -Starting with simple horror at the wickedness of the world, he had -recourse to the old prophets. He steeped himself in Bible studies. He -caught the language of Malachi and Jeremiah. He became convinced that -for the wickedness of Italy a judgment was imminent. From that -conclusion he rose upon the wings of faith to the belief that a new age -would dawn. The originality of his intuition consisted in this, that -while Italy was asleep, and no<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201">{201}</a></span> man trembled for the future, he alone -felt that the stillness of the air was fraught with thunder, that its -tranquillity was like that which precedes a tempest blown from the very -nostrils of the God of hosts.</p> - -<h2><a name="CAESAR_BORGIA" id="CAESAR_BORGIA"></a>CÆSAR BORGIA.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By CHARLES YRIARTE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Son of Pope Alexander VI, at first prelate, then soldier and -statesman, born about 1457, died 1507. All the contemporary annals -concur in giving Cæsar Borgia nearly every private vice, and stamp -him as murderer, sensualist, and a man of ruthless ambition. -Successively made bishop and cardinal in his earlier years, he was -finally secularized and became Duke of Romagna and Valentinois. -After having dispossessed the rulers of many small principalities -and united them into a duchy, he is believed to have nourished the -scheme of founding a united Italy. After some years of vicissitudes -Cæsar lost his political ascendency by the election of a pope -inimical to his interests, and his military power by the jealousy -of the Kings of France and Spain. A consummate soldier and -politician, he showed during the short period during which he -exercised the functions of a ruler all the traits of a wise, -upright, and public-spirited sovereign, in shining contrast with -the hideous crimes which had blackened his career as a man. Cæsar -Borgia was the model on which Machiavelli drew his “Prince,” in the -celebrated politico-historical treatise of that title.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Was</span> Cæsar merely going straight before him, led by the insatiable -ambition which lays hands upon all within its reach, or was he aiming at -a distinct end, at the realization of a vast conception? Granting that -he had no dreams of reconstituting the kingdom of Central Italy himself, -Florence at least felt herself threatened. As long ago as his first -campaign, when, after making himself master of Imola and Forli, he was -still besieging Cesena preparatory to his entry into Pesaro and his -progress to Rome by way of Urbino, the Florentine Republic had sent -Soderini on a mission to him, to find out his intentions and his terms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202">{202}</a></span> -The following year, with increased anxiety, as she felt herself -approached more closely through the taking of Arezzo, which had fallen -into the hands of Cæsar’s troops, she sent him Machiavelli, the most -clear-sighted of her secretaries. The spectacle of these two champions -face to face is one unique in history. From the day when he arrived in -the camp, Machiavelli, who had recognized in the Duke of Valentinois a -terrible adversary, felt that it was of vital interest to the state that -he should not lose sight of him for a moment. As a point of fact, he -never left his side up to the day when he saw him hunted down like a -wild beast, vanquished by destiny, fettered beyond all power of doing -harm to any one.</p> - -<p>Of course, we may refuse to accept the verdict of the secretary of the -Florentine Republic. Gregorovius, the celebrated author of the “History -of the City of Rome in the Middle Ages,” goes so far as to say that it -is a reproach to the memory of the founder of political science that he -made a blood-stained adventurer like Cæsar the “Italian Messiah”—the -precursor, in a word, of Italian unity. Again, P. Villari, in his fine -work “N. Machiavelli e suoi tempi,” says that the Florentine secretary, -though he was an eyewitness of the actual deeds of Valentinois, made of -him an imaginary personage, to whom he attributed the great ideas by -which he himself was animated.</p> - -<p>Still, we have a right to point out that in history purpose is -controlled by action. A great number of the heroic deeds and of the -portentous decisions which have determined the lofty destiny of empires -have not been the consequence of long premeditation; they have often -been the result of the passions and desires of mankind, or simply that -of the need of action natural to a vigorous mind. Undoubtedly the -immediate object of Alexander VI was the aggrandizement of his children, -and the increase of their territory; he cared only for the power of the -Church insomuch as it augmented that of his own family, but the deeds -accomplished by father<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203">{203}</a></span> and son contributed none the less to -reconstitute the temporal dominion of the Church—a work which, after -its completion by Julius II, was destined to continue for more than -three centuries, from 1510 to 1860.</p> - -<p>The ambitious Cæsar himself was turning aside the current for his own -particular advantage. When Julius II assumed the triple crown, the -officers who held the fortresses of Romagna with one accord refused to -give them up to the Church, considering them as the lawful conquest and -personal property of their leader. Machiavelli looked only at the -results; this is the justification of the opinion which he expresses -concerning Valentinois in his book, “Il Principe,” in the “Legazione,” -the “Descrizione dei fatti di Romagna,” and the “Decennale.” He was -present when these things were done; he calculated the effect of the -events he witnessed. From his observation of Cæsar at work, he noted the -strength of his will and the resources of his mind, his strategic -talents, and his administrative faculty; and as within certain limits -the acts of Valentinois tended toward a distinct goal, an ideal not -unlike that at which he himself aimed, the Florentine secretary was not -the man to be squeamish about ways and means. What did it matter to him -whose hand struck at the despots of the petty principalities of Italy? -What cared he about the personal ambition of the man who, after -overthrowing them, busied himself at once with the organization of their -states, gave them laws, kept them under stern discipline, and ended by -winning the affections of the people?</p> - -<p>Once the idea of union was accepted, a prince of more blameless private -life would succeed Cæsar, and there was always so much progress made -toward the realization of the great conception. The Sforza had fallen; -the princes of the houses of Este and Mantua were not equal to such a -task; Lorenzo de’ Medici was no soldier. Impatient to reach his end, -Machiavelli cast his eyes around in vain; nowhere could he find a -personality capable of great undertakings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204">{204}</a></span> Cæsar alone, with his youth -and daring, quick to seize an opportunity, free from scruples, imposing -by his magnificence—Cæsar, who always went straight to the very core of -a matter, a consummate soldier, full of high purposes and lofty -schemes—seemed the one man capable of aiming at the goal and attaining -it. From that time forward, the secretary made him the incarnation of -his ideal prince, removing from his character the hideous elements which -lurked beneath the fair exterior of the skillful diplomate and hardy -soldier.</p> - -<p>Of these “high purposes” of which Machiavelli speaks we have also other -proofs, without speaking of the, in a manner, prophetic declaration of -the young cardinal who, at twenty, fixed his eyes on the example of the -Roman Cæsar, and took as his motto “<small>CUM NUMINE CÆSARIS OMEN</small>.” Some of -the contemporaries of the Duke of Valentinois have expressed themselves -in distinct terms regarding him. We have here some real revelations of -his personal intentions which are free from the <i>après coup</i> of the -judgments pronounced by later historians. Speaking of the war which the -Spaniards were carrying on to prevent the Pope from extending his -dominions beyond the Neapolitan frontier, Signor Villari recognizes the -fact that Alexander VI had declared his intention of making Italy “all -one piece.” As for Cæsar, we read in the dispatches of Collenuccio, the -ambassador of Ferrara, that Francesco Maria, Duke of Urbino, had taken -into his service a secretary who had been for some time in Cæsar’s -employ, and that this person averred that he had heard the Duke of -Romagna say that he had “deliberately resolved to make himself <i>King of -Italy</i>.” Here we have it in so many words.</p> - -<p>As regards Machiavelli, could we collect in one page all the traits of -character sketched from nature, scattered here and there in his -dispatches to the Florentine Signoria, we should have a literary -portrait of Valentinois, signed with the name of the most sagacious -observer that ever honored<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205">{205}</a></span> Italian diplomacy. Cæsar had never learned -the art of war, yet it would be impossible to pass with greater facility -from the Consistory to the camp than he did. He was no mere warrior. -Brave and impetuous as he was, he had more serious work in hand than the -exchanging of sword-thrusts. He was at once a general, a strategist, and -an administrator. Hardly had he taken a town when he made laws for it, -and organized its administration; the breaches in its fortifications -were repaired, and its defense and retention made as safe as if the -conquest were final. No sooner had Imola, Forli, and Cesena fallen into -his power, than he sent for Leonardo da Vinci to provide for a -sufficient supply of water, to repair the fortresses, and to erect -public monuments. He founded <i>Monts de Piété</i>, set up courts of justice, -and did the work of civilization everywhere. The cities which fell under -his sway never misunderstood his efforts; they looked back on the time -of his supremacy with regret.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“This lord is ever noble and magnificent; when his sword is in his -hand, his courage is so great that the most arduous undertakings -seem easy to him; in the pursuit of glory or advantage he shrinks -from no toil or fatigue. He has the good-will of his soldiers; he -has secured the best troops in Italy: it is thus that he makes -himself formidable and victorious. Add to this, that fortune is -constantly favorable to him. He is of solitary habits, and he -possesses craft, promptness, the spirit of order and good fortune; -he has an extraordinary power of profiting by opportunity very -secret (<i>molto segreto</i>). He controls himself with prudence; (<i>gran -conoscitore della occasione</i>.”)</p></div> - -<p>So Machiavelli warned the Florentines not to treat Cæsar “like the other -barons, but as a new power in Italy, with whom they might conclude -treaties and alliances, rather than offer him an appointment as -<i>condottiere</i>.” The purely military element, which was Machiavelli’s -speciality, did not escape the attention of the secretary. Once he had -found the right man, the next requisite was the proper tool to work -with—that is, the army; and so, when he saw these<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206">{206}</a></span> well-disciplined -battalions, and the perfect order that reigned among them, the system of -supplies secured by treaties, the regular equipment, and, above all, the -formidable artillery, “in which department Cæsar alone is as strong as -all the sovereigns of Italy put together,” the Secretary of the Republic -recognized in Cæsar a born commander, for whom he prophesied the most -lofty career.</p> - -<p>Cæsar’s life was very short, and the vicissitudes of his fortune -followed each other in rapid succession. In youth he was a murderer, in -youth a conqueror, and in youth he died. His period of activity as a -general extended from the autumn of 1499 to April, 1503, and his actual -reign as Duke of Romagna lasted only two years.</p> - -<p>On the 26th of January, 1500, having accomplished the first half of his -task, he entered Rome as a conqueror—on which occasion a representation -was given of the triumph of Cæsar with the various episodes of the life -of the Roman Cæsar shown in <i>tableaux vivants</i>, suggested by the painter -Mantegna. Eleven allegorical cars started from the Piazza Navona, Borgia -himself, crowned with laurel, representing in his own person the -conqueror of the world. Before his departure for his second campaign, he -had, as we have already seen, caused the assassination of Lucrezia’s -second husband, Alfonso de Bisceglie, to prepare for the third marriage -of his sister, who was this time to become Duchess of Ferrara, and thus -secure him an alliance which would forward his projects as Duke of -Romagna. On the 27th of September, 1500, he left Rome again to complete -his work, but returned quickly to take part in the war which the King of -France had carried into the Neapolitan kingdom, when he possessed -himself of the city of Capua, thus acquitting his obligation toward his -protector, Louis XII. On the 29th of November his father changed his -title of Vicar of the Holy See to that of Duke of Romagna.</p> - -<p>The year 1503 proved an eventful one for him. No longer contented with -his duchy, he prepared to attack Bo<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207">{207}</a></span>logna and to threaten Florence. The -day before he set forth on this great undertaking, on the 5th of August, -he assisted, together with Alexander VI, at a banquet given in the -vineyard of the Cardinal of Corneto, at the gates of Rome. On their -return both were taken ill so suddenly that the cardinal was suspected -of having poisoned them. The old man breathed his last on the 18th of -August. Cæsar, younger and more vigorous, struggled against his malady -with extraordinary energy. He wrapped himself, as in a cloak, in the -still quivering carcass of a newly disemboweled mule to overcome the -shiverings brought on by fever, and then was thrown, still covered with -blood, into a vessel of iced water, to bring about the reaction -necessary to save his life. This man of iron seemed to prevail against -Nature herself. He knew that, once his father dead and himself unable to -move, all his enemies would rush upon him at once to crush him. It was -the decisive moment of his life. He first sent his bravo, Micheletto, to -seize the pontifical treasure, thus making sure of a sum of three -hundred thousand ducats, the sinews of resistance. The nine thousand -men-at-arms under his orders, the one disciplined force in the city, -made him master of Rome; the Sacred College set all their hopes upon -this dying man, for he alone possessed sufficient authority to prevent -anarchy.</p> - -<p>It is a strange spectacle—the representatives of all nations accredited -to the Holy See assembling at his bedside to negotiate with him, and -Cæsar, weak and helpless as he is, making himself responsible for the -preservation of order, while the Sacred College formed itself into -conclave to elect the new Pope. In order not to put any pressure upon -the cardinals by his presence, the Duke of Valentinois retired to Nepi. -He left Rome, carried on the shoulders of his guards, livid and -shivering with fever. Around his litter walked the ambassadors of Spain, -France, and the empire, and mingled with the troops could be seen his -mother Vanozza, his brother Squillace, and his sister-in-law -Sancha<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208">{208}</a></span>—all three in danger of their lives in excited Rome. One of the -Borgias had been killed, and Fabio Orsini, descendant of one of the -Roman barons ruined by Alexander VI, had steeped his hands in the -detested blood, and sworn to visit all who bore that hated name with the -same fate.</p> - -<h2><a name="CARDINAL_WOLSEY" id="CARDINAL_WOLSEY"></a>CARDINAL WOLSEY.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Thomas Wolsey, born of low origin 1471, died 1530. After a -university education and taking priest’s orders he was rapidly made -private chaplain to Henry VII, and, on the accession of Henry VIII, -he became the favorite of the new king, and soon afterward lord -chancellor and cardinal. Wolsey’s diplomatic and ministerial genius -became one of the great powers in Europe while he managed English -affairs, a period of about eleven years, and at home his -magnificence rivaled that of the king himself. His fall from power -grew out of his opposition to the king’s marriage with Anne -Boleyn.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Thomas Wolsey</span> was the son of a wealthy townsman of Ipswich, whose -ability had raised him into notice at the close of the preceding reign, -and who had been taken by Bishop Fox into the service of the crown. His -extraordinary powers hardly, perhaps, required the songs, dances, and -carouses with his indulgence in which he was taunted by his enemies, to -aid him in winning the favor of the young sovereign. From the post of -favorite he soon rose to that of minister. Henry’s resentment at -Ferdinand’s perfidy enabled Wolsey to carry out a policy which reversed -that of his predecessors. The war had freed England from the fear of -French pressure. Wolsey was as resolute to free her from the dictation -of Ferdinand, and saw in a French alliance the best security for English -independence. In 1514 a treaty was concluded with Louis. The same -friendship was continued to his successor, Francis I, whose march across -the Alps for the reconquest of Lombardy was facili<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209">{209}</a></span>tated by Henry and -Wolsey, in the hope that while the war lasted England would be free from -all fear of attack, and that Francis himself might be brought to -inevitable ruin. These hopes were defeated by his great victory at -Marignano. But Francis, in the moment of triumph, saw himself confronted -by a new rival. Master of Castile and Aragon, of Naples and the -Netherlands, the new Spanish king, Charles V, rose into a check on the -French monarchy such as the policy of Henry or Wolsey had never been -able to construct before.</p> - -<p>The alliance of England was eagerly sought by both sides, and the -administration of Wolsey, amid all its ceaseless diplomacy, for seven -years kept England out of war. The peace, as we have seen, restored the -hopes of the New Learning; it enabled Colet to reform education, Erasmus -to undertake the regeneration of the Church, More to set on foot a new -science of politics. But peace, as Wolsey used it, was fatal to English -freedom. In the political hints which lie scattered over the “Utopia,” -More notes with bitter irony the advance of the new despotism. It was -only in “Nowhere” that a sovereign was “removable on suspicion of a -design to enslave his people.” In England the work of slavery was being -quietly wrought, hints the great lawyer, through the law. “There will -never be wanting some pretense for deciding in the king’s favor; as that -equity is on his side, or the strict letter of the law, or some forced -interpretation of it; or if none of these, that the royal prerogative -ought, with conscientious judges, to outweigh all other considerations.”</p> - -<p>We are startled at the precision with which More maps out the expedients -by which the law courts were to lend themselves to the advance of -tyranny till their crowning judgment in the case of ship-money. But -behind these judicial expedients lay great principles of absolutism, -which, partly from the example of foreign monarchies, partly from the -sense of social and political insecurity, and yet more<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210">{210}</a></span> from the -isolated position of the crown, were gradually winning their way in -public opinion. “These notions,” he goes boldly on, “are fostered by the -maxim that the king can do no wrong, however much he may wish to do it; -that not only the property but the persons of his subjects are his own; -and that a man has a right to no more than the king’s goodness thinks -fit not to take from him.” In the hands of Wolsey these maxims were -transformed into principles of state. The checks which had been imposed -on the action of the sovereign by the presence of great prelates and -nobles at his council were practically removed. All authority was -concentrated in the hands of a single minister. Henry had munificently -rewarded Wolsey’s services to the crown. He had been promoted to the See -of Lincoln and thence to the Archbishopric of York. Henry procured his -elevation to the rank of cardinal, and raised him to the post of -chancellor. The revenues of two sees whose tenants were foreigners fell -into his hands; he held the bishopric of Winchester and the abbacy of -St. Albans; he was in receipt of pensions from France and Spain, while -his official emoluments were enormous. His pomp was almost royal.</p> - -<p>A train of prelates and nobles followed him wherever he moved; his -household was composed of five hundred persons of noble birth, and its -chief posts were held by knights and barons of the realm. He spent his -vast wealth with princely ostentation. Two of his houses—Hampton Court -and York House, the later Whitehall—were splendid enough to serve at -his fall as royal palaces. His school at Ipswich was eclipsed by the -glories of his foundation at Oxford, whose name of Cardinal College has -been lost in its later title of Christ-church. Nor was this magnificence -a mere show of power. The whole direction of home and foreign affairs -rested with Wolsey alone; as chancellor he stood at the head of public -justice; his elevation to the office of legate rendered him supreme in -the Church. Enormous as<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211">{211}</a></span> was the mass of work which he undertook, it was -thoroughly done; his administration of the royal treasury was -economical; the number of his dispatches is hardly less remarkable than -the care bestowed upon each; even More, an avowed enemy, confesses that -as chancellor he surpassed all men’s expectations. The court of -chancery, indeed, became so crowded through the character of expedition -and justice which it gained under his rule that subordinate courts had -to be created for its relief. It was this concentration of all secular -and ecclesiastical power in a single hand which accustomed England to -the personal government which began with Henry VIII; and it was, above -all, Wolsey’s long tenure of the whole Papal authority within the realm, -and the consequent suspension of appeals to Rome, that led men to -acquiesce at a later time in Henry’s claim of religious supremacy; for, -proud as was Wolsey’s bearing and high as were his natural powers, he -stood before England as the mere creature of the king. Greatness, -wealth, authority he held, and owned he held, simply at the royal will. -In raising his low-born favorite to the head of Church and state, Henry -was gathering all religious as well as all civil authority into his -personal grasp. The nation which trembled before Wolsey learned to -tremble before the king who could destroy Wolsey by a breath.</p> - -<h2><a name="FRANCISCO_PIZARRO" id="FRANCISCO_PIZARRO"></a>FRANCISCO PIZARRO.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[One of the Spanish conquerors of America, born about 1471, died -1541. The illegitimate son of a Spanish general, his childhood was -spent in a peasant’s hut. Going as an adventurer to the New World, -he took part in several important expeditions, among them Balboa’s -settlement of Darien. In 1524, Pizarro, with a brother adventurer, -Almagro, in an attempt on New Grenada, got intelligence of the -great Peruvian empire of the Incas. It was not till 1531 that -Pizarro, hav<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212">{212}</a></span>ing secured full commission and extraordinary -concessions from Charles V., was able to raise a force of two -hundred and fifty men to attempt the conquest, which was -brilliantly successful. He reigned as viceroy, and was finally -assassinated by a son of his old comrade Almagro, whom he had put -to death.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Pizarro</span> was tall in stature, well-proportioned, and with a countenance -not unpleasing. Bred in camps, with nothing of the polish of a court, he -had a soldier-like bearing, and the air of one accustomed to command. -But, though not polished, there was no embarrassment or rusticity in his -address, which, where it served his purpose, could be plausible and even -insinuating. The proof of it is the favorable impression made by him, on -presenting himself, after his second expedition—stranger as he was to -all its forms and usages—at the punctilious court of Castile.</p> - -<p>Unlike many of his countrymen, he had no passion for ostentatious dress, -which he regarded as an incumbrance. The costume which he most affected -on public occasions was a black cloak, with a white hat, and shoes of -the same color; the last, it is said, being in imitation of the Great -Captain, whose character he had early learned to admire in Italy, but to -which his own, certainly, bore very faint resemblance.</p> - -<p>He was temperate in eating, drank sparingly, and usually rose an hour -before dawn. He was punctual in attendance to business, and shrank from -no toil. He had, indeed, great powers of patient endurance. Like most of -his nation, he was fond of play, and cared little for the quality of -those with whom he played; though, when his antagonist could not afford -to lose, he would allow himself, it is said, to be the loser—a mode of -conferring an obligation much commended by a Castilian writer for its -delicacy.</p> - -<p>Though avaricious, it was in order to spend, and not to hoard. His ample -treasure, more ample than those, probably, that ever before fell to the -lot of an adventurer, were mostly dissipated in his enterprises, his -architectural works,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_213" id="page_213">{213}</a></span> and schemes of public improvement, which, in a -country where gold and silver might be said to have lost their value -from their abundance, absorbed an incredible amount of money. While he -regarded the whole country, in a manner, as his own, and distributed it -freely among his captains, it is certain that the princely grant of -territory, with twenty thousand vassals, made to him by the Crown, was -never carried into effect; nor did his heirs ever reap the benefit of -it.</p> - -<p>Though bold in action and not easily turned from his purpose, Pizarro -was slow in arriving at a decision. This gave him an appearance of -irresolution foreign to his character. Perhaps the consciousness of this -led him to adopt the custom of saying “No,” at first, to applicants for -favor; and afterward, at leisure, to revise his judgment, and grant what -seemed to him expedient. He took the opposite course from his comrade -Almagro, who, it was observed, generally said “Yes,” but too often -failed to keep his promise. This was characteristic of the careless and -easy nature of the latter, governed by impulse rather than principle.</p> - -<p>It is hardly necessary to speak of the courage of a man pledged to such -a career as that of Pizarro. Courage, indeed, was a cheap quality among -the Spanish adventurers, for danger was their element. But he possessed -something higher than mere animal courage, in that constancy of purpose -which was rooted too deeply in his nature to be shaken by the wildest -storms of fortune. It was this inflexible constancy which formed the key -to his character, and constituted the secret of his success. A -remarkable evidence of it was given in his first expedition, among the -mangroves and dreary marshes of Choco. He saw his followers pining -around him under the blighting malaria, wasting before an invisible -enemy, and unable to strike a stroke in their own defense. Yet his -spirit did not yield, nor did he falter in his enterprise.</p> - -<p>There is something oppressive to the imagination in this<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_214" id="page_214">{214}</a></span> war against -nature. In the struggle of man against man, the spirits are raised by a -contest conducted on equal terms; but in a war with the elements we feel -that, however bravely we may contend, we can have no power to control. -Nor are we cheered on by the prospect of glory in such a contest; for, -in the capricious estimate of human glory, the silent endurance of -privations, however painful, is little, in comparison with the -ostentatious trophies of victory. The laurel of the hero—alas for -humanity that it should be so!—grows best on the battle-field.</p> - -<p>This inflexible spirit of Pizarro was shown still more strongly when, in -the little island of Gallo, he drew the line on the sand which was to -separate him and his handful of followers from their country and from -civilized man. He trusted that his own constancy would give strength to -the feeble, and rally brave hearts around him for the prosecution of his -enterprise. He looked with confidence to the future, and he did not -miscalculate. This was heroic, and wanted only a nobler motive for its -object to constitute the true moral sublime.</p> - -<p>Yet the same feature in his character was displayed in a manner scarcely -less remarkable when, landing on the coast, and ascertaining the real -strength and civilization of the Incas, he persisted in marching into -the interior at the head of a force of less than two hundred men. In -this he undoubtedly proposed to himself the example of Cortés, so -contagious to the adventurous spirits of that day, and especially to -Pizarro, engaged as he was in a similar enterprise. Yet the hazard -assumed by Pizarro was far greater than that of the conqueror of Mexico, -whose force was nearly three times as large, while the terrors of the -Inca name—however justified by the result—were as widely spread as -those of the Aztecs.</p> - -<p>It was, doubtless, in imitation of the same captivating model that -Pizarro planned the seizure of Atahualpa. But the situations of the two -Spanish captains were as dissimilar<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_215" id="page_215">{215}</a></span> as the manner in which their acts -of violence were conducted. The wanton massacre of the Peruvians -resembled that perpetrated by Alvarado in Mexico, and might have been -attended with consequences as disastrous if the Peruvian character had -been as fierce as that of the Aztecs. But the blow which roused the -latter to madness broke the tamer spirits of the Peruvians. It was a -bold stroke, which left so much to chance that it scarcely merited the -name of policy.</p> - -<p>When Pizarro landed in the country, he found it distracted by a contest -for the crown. It would seem to have been for his interest to play off -one party against the other, throwing his own weight into the scale that -suited him. Instead of this, he resorted to an act of audacious violence -which crushed them both at a blow. His subsequent career afforded no -scope for the profound policy displayed by Cortés, when he gathered -conflicting nations under his banner and directed them against a common -foe. Still less did he have the opportunity of displaying the tactics -and admirable strategy of his rival. Cortés conducted his military -operations on the scientific principles of a great captain at the head -of a powerful host. Pizarro appears only as an adventurer, a fortunate -knight-errant. By one bold stroke he broke the spell which had so long -held the land under the dominion of the Incas. The spell was broken, and -the airy fabric of their empire, built on the superstition of ages, -vanished at a touch. This was good fortune, rather than the result of -policy.</p> - -<p>But, as no picture is without its lights, we must not, in justice to -Pizarro, dwell exclusively on the darker features of his portrait. There -was no one of her sons to whom Spain was under larger obligations for -extent of empire, for his hand won for her the richest of the Indian -jewels that once sparkled in her imperial diadem. When we contemplate -the perils he braved, the sufferings he patiently endured, the -incredible obstacles he overcame, the magnifi<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_216" id="page_216">{216}</a></span>cent results he effected -with his single arm, as it were, unaided by the government—though -neither a good nor a great man, in the highest sense of that term—it is -impossible not to regard him as a very extraordinary one.</p> - -<h2><a name="HERNANDO_CORTES" id="HERNANDO_CORTES"></a>HERNANDO CORTÉS.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[The Spanish conqueror of Mexico, born 1485, died 1547. Born of a -noble race, he was educated at the University of Salamanca, but -soon devoted his attention to arms. He turned his eyes to America -in 1504, and sailing thither, held various minor offices of trust, -civic and military, till the discovery of Mexico. Cortés was -appointed by Velasquez, the governor-general, to the command of the -new expedition designed for Mexico in 1518. Though afterward -superseded by his jealous superior, he succeeded in evading the -enforcement of the decree, and landed at Tabasco, Mexico, on March -4, 1519. He burned his ships and committed himself to success or -death. His army contained only five hundred and fifty Spaniards, -but with these, and the native allies whom he seduced by his arts, -he conquered the Mexican Empire in little more than two years. -Though he was rewarded with titles and wealth, he was ungratefully -treated by the king—a common fate of the great servants of -Spain—and died in retirement, out of court favor.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cortés</span>, at the time of the Mexican Conquest, was thirty-three or -thirty-four years of age. In stature he was rather above the middle -size. His countenance was pale, and his large dark eyes gave an -expression of gravity to his countenance not to have been expected in -one of his cheerful temperament. His figure was slender, at least till -later life; but his chest was deep, his shoulders broad, his frame -muscular and well proportioned. It presented the union of agility and -vigor which qualified him to excel in fencing, horsemanship, and the -other general exercises of chivalry. In his diet he was temperate, -careless of what he ate, and drinking little; while to toil and -privation he seemed perfectly indifferent. His dress—for he did not -disdain the im<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_217" id="page_217">{217}</a></span>pression produced by such adventitious aids—was such as -to set off his handsome figure to advantage, neither gaudy, nor -striking, nor rich. He wore few ornaments, and usually the same, but -those were of a great price. His manners, frank and soldier-like, -concealed a most cool and calculating spirit. With his gayest humor -there mingled a settled air of resolution which made those who -approached him feel that they must obey; and which infused something -like awe into the attachment of his most devoted followers. Such a -combination, in which love was tempered by authority, was the one -probably best calculated to inspire devotion in the rough and turbulent -spirits among whom his lot was to be cast.</p> - -<p>The history of the Conquest is necessarily that of Cortés, who is, if I -may so say, not merely the soul but the body of the enterprise; present -everywhere in person, out in the thick of the fight, or in the building -of the works, with his sword or with his musket, sometimes leading his -soldiers, and sometimes directing his little navy. The negotiations, -intrigues, correspondence, are all conducted by him; and, like Cæsar, he -wrote his own Commentaries in the heat of the stirring scenes which form -the subject of them. His character is marked with the most opposite -traits, embracing qualities apparently the most incompatible. He was -avaricious, yet liberal; bold to desperation, yet cautious and -calculating in his plans; magnanimous, yet very cunning; courteous and -affable in his deportment, yet inexorably stern; lax in his notions of -morality, yet (not uncommon) a sad bigot.</p> - -<p>The great feature in his character was constancy of purpose; a constancy -not to be daunted by danger, nor baffled by disappointment, nor wearied -out by impediments and delays.</p> - -<p>He was a knight-errant in the literal sense of the word. Of all the band -of adventurous cavaliers whom Spain, in the sixteenth century, sent -forth on the career of discovery and conquest, there was none more -deeply filled with the spirit<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_218" id="page_218">{218}</a></span> of romantic enterprise than Hernando -Cortés. Dangers and difficulties, instead of deterring, seemed to have a -charm in his eyes. They were necessary to rouse him to a full -consciousness of his powers. He grappled with them at the outset, and, -if I may so express myself, seemed to prefer to take his enterprises by -the most difficult side. He conceived, at the first moment of his -landing in Mexico, the design of its conquest. When he saw the strength -of its civilization, he was not turned from his purpose. When he was -assailed by the superior force of Narvaez, he still persisted in it; and -when he was driven in ruin from the capital, he still cherished his -original idea. How successfully he carried it into execution, we have -seen. After the few years of repose which succeeded the Conquest, his -adventurous spirit impelled him to that dreary march across the marshes -of Chiapa; and, after another interval, to seek his fortunes on the -stormy Californian gulf. When he found that no other continent remained -for him to conquer, he made serious proposals to the emperor to equip a -fleet at his own expense, with which he would sail to the Moluccas, and -subdue the Spice Islands for the crown of Castile!</p> - -<p>This spirit of knight-errantry might lead us to under-value his talents -as a general, and to regard him merely in the light of a lucky -adventurer. But this would be doing him injustice; for Cortés was -certainly a great general, if that man be one who performs great -achievements with the resources which his own genius has created. There -is probably no instance in history where so vast an enterprise has been -achieved by means apparently so inadequate. He may be truly said to have -effected the conquest by his own resources. If he was indebted for his -success to the co-operation of the Indian tribes, it was the force of -his genius that obtained command of such materials. He arrested the arm -that was lifted to smite him, and made it do battle in his behalf. He -beat the Tlascalans, and made them his stanch allies. He beat the -soldiers of Narvaez, and doubled his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_219" id="page_219">{219}</a></span> effective force by it. When his -own men deserted him he did not desert himself. He drew them back by -degrees, and compelled them to act by his will till they were all as one -man. He brought together the most miscellaneous collection of -mercenaries who ever fought under one standard—adventurers from Cuba -and the isles, craving for gold; hidalgos, who came from the old country -to win laurels; broken-down cavaliers, who hoped to mend their fortunes -in the New World; vagabonds flying from justice; the grasping followers -of Narvaez, and his own reckless veterans—men with hardly a common tie, -and burning with the spirit of jealousy and faction; wild tribes of the -natives from all parts of the country, who had been sworn enemies from -their cradles, and who had met only to cut one another’s throats and to -procure victims for sacrifice; men, in short, differing in race, in -language, and in interests, with scarcely anything in common among them. -Yet this motley congregation was assembled in one camp, compelled to -bend to the will of one man, to consort together in harmony, to breathe, -as it were, one spirit, and to move on a common principle of action! It -is in this wonderful power over the discordant masses thus gathered -under his banner that we recognize the genius of the great commander no -less than in the skill of his military operations.</p> - -<p>His power over the minds of his soldiers was a natural result of their -confidence in his abilities. But it is also to be attributed to his -popular manners—that happy union of authority and companionship which -fitted him for the command of a band of roving adventurers. It would not -have done for him to have fenced himself round with the stately reserve -of a commander of regular forces. He was embarked with his men in a -common adventure, and nearly on terms of equality, since he held his -commission by no legal warrant. But while he indulged this freedom and -familiarity with his soldiers, he never allowed it to interfere with -their strict obedience, nor to impair the severity of discipline.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_220" id="page_220">{220}</a></span> When -he had risen to higher consideration, although he affected more state, -he still admitted his veterans to the same intimacy. “He preferred,” -says Diaz, “to be called ‘Cortés’ by us, to being called by any title; -and with good reason,” continues the enthusiastic old cavalier, “for the -name of Cortés is as famous in our day as was that of Cæsar among the -Romans, or of Hannibal among the Carthaginians.” He showed the same kind -regard toward his ancient comrades in the very last act of his life; for -he appropriated a sum by his will for the celebration of two thousand -masses for the souls of those who had fought with him in the campaigns -of Mexico.</p> - -<p>His character has been unconsciously traced by the hand of a master—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And oft the chieftain deigned to aid<br /></span> -<span class="i1">And mingle in the mirth they made;<br /></span> -<span class="i1">For though, with men of high degree,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">The proudest of the proud was he,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Yet, trained in camps, he knew the art<br /></span> -<span class="i1">To win the soldier’s hardy heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i1">They love a captain to obey,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May;<br /></span> -<span class="i1">With open hand, and brow as free,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Lover of wine and minstrelsy;<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Ever the first to scale a tower,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">As venturous in a lady’s bower;<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Such buxom chief shall lead his host<br /></span> -<span class="i1">From India’s fires to Zembla’s frost.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Cortés, without much violence, might have sat for this portrait of -Marmion.</p> - -<p>Cortés was not a vulgar conqueror. He did not conquer from the mere -ambition of conquest. If he destroyed the ancient capital of the Aztecs, -it was to build up a more magnificent capital on its ruins. If he -desolated the land and broke up its existing institutions, he employed -the short period of his administration in digesting schemes for -intro<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_221" id="page_221">{221}</a></span>ducing there a more improved culture and a higher civilization. In -all his expeditions he was careful to study the resources of the -country, its social organization, and its physical capacities. He -enjoined it on his captains to attend particularly to these objects. If -he was greedy of gold, like most of the Spanish cavaliers in the New -World, it was not to hoard it, nor merely to lavish it in the support of -a princely establishment, but to secure funds for prosecuting his -glorious discoveries. Witness his costly expeditions to the Gulf of -California.</p> - -<p>His enterprises were not undertaken solely for mercenary objects, as is -shown by the various expeditions he set on foot for the discovery of a -communication between the Atlantic and the Pacific. In his schemes of -ambition he showed a respect for the interests of science, to be -referred partly to the natural superiority of his mind, but partly, no -doubt, to the influence of early education. It is, indeed, hardly -possible that a person of his wayward and mercurial temper should have -improved his advantages at the university, but he brought away from it a -tincture of scholarship seldom found among the cavaliers of the period, -and which had its influence in enlarging his own conceptions. His -celebrated letters are written with a simple elegance that, as I have -already had occasion to remark, have caused them to be compared to the -military narrative of Cæsar. It will not be easy to find in the -chronicles of the period a more concise yet comprehensive statement, not -only of the events of his campaigns, but of the circumstances most -worthy of notice in the character of the conquered countries.</p> - -<p>Cortés was not cruel; at least, not cruel as compared with most of those -who followed his iron trade. The path of the conqueror is necessarily -marked with blood. He was not too scrupulous, indeed, in the execution -of his plans. He swept away the obstacles which lay in his track; and -his fame is darkened by the commission of more than one act which his -boldest apologist will find it hard to vindicate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_222" id="page_222">{222}</a></span> But he was not cruel. -He allowed no outrage on his unresisting foes. This may seem small -praise, but it is an exception to the usual conduct of his countrymen in -their conquests, and it is something to be in advance of one’s time. He -was severe, it may be added, in enforcing obedience to his orders for -protecting their persons and their property. With his licentious crew, -it was sometimes not without hazard that he was so. After the Conquest, -he sanctioned the system of <i>repartimientos</i>; but so did Columbus. He -endeavored to regulate it by the most humane laws, and continued to -suggest many important changes for ameliorating the condition of the -natives. The best commentary on his conduct, in this respect, is the -deference that was shown him by the Indians, and the confidence with -which they appealed to him for protection in all their subsequent -distresses.</p> - -<h2><a name="MARTIN_LUTHER" id="MARTIN_LUTHER"></a>MARTIN LUTHER.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS CARLYLE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Leader of the German Reformation, born 1483, died 1546. Educated -at the University of Erfurt, and originally intending to become a -lawyer, he was carried by religious enthusiasm into an Augustinian -convent. After taking orders he became in a few years Professor of -Philosophy in the Wittenberg University, and Doctor of Theology. It -was not till the promulgation of indulgences for sin, issued by -Pope Leo V to raise funds for the building of the Cathedral of St. -Peter’s at Rome, that Luther took a stand antagonistic to the Roman -Church. He posted ninety-five Latin theses on the door of the -Wittenberg church as a protest, which contained the germ of the -Protestant doctrine. This bold act kindled a fire throughout -Europe. Luther’s celebrated disputation with Doctor Eck, and his -fierce pamphlets against Rome, which were scattered broadcast by -the press, added fuel to the flames, and he was soon supported by -the sympathy and adherence of many of the nobles, particularly -George of Saxony, the reformer’s own electoral prince, as well as -by the support of large masses of the people. Luther was -excommunicated in 1520, and in the same year was summoned to answer -before Charles V, the German emperor,</p></div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_009" style="width: 438px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp222.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp222.jpg" width="438" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>MARTIN LUTHER.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_223" id="page_223">{223}</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">at the Diet of Worms. The reformer defended himself with great -eloquence and vigor, but was placed under the ban of the Empire, -and thenceforward became both a religious and political outlaw. The -Lutheran reformation rapidly spread to France, Switzerland, the -Scandinavian kingdoms, England, and Scotland, during the life of -its apostle, and shook the power of the Roman hierarchy to its very -center. Luther was protected in his work by a powerful band of -German princes, and when he died the larger part of North Germany -had accepted his doctrine. He was perhaps the most extraordinary -figure of an age prolific in great men.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Diet of Worms and Luther’s appearance there on the 17th of April, -1521, may be considered as the greatest scene in modern European -history; the point, indeed, from which the whole subsequent history of -civilization takes its rise. After multiplied negotiations and -disputations, it had come to this. The young Emperor Charles V, with all -the princes of Germany, papal nuncios, dignitaries, spiritual and -temporal, are assembled there: Luther is to appear and answer for -himself, whether he will recant or not. The world’s pomp and power sits -there on this hand; on that, stands up for God’s truth one man, the poor -miner, Hans Luther’s son. Friends had reminded him of Huss, advised him -not to go; he would not be advised. A large company of friends rode out -to meet him, with still more earnest warnings; he answered, “Were there -as many devils in Worms as there are roof-tiles, I would on.” The -people, on the morrow, as he went to the hall of the diet, crowded the -windows and house-tops, some of them calling out to him, in solemn -words, not to recant. “Whosoever denieth me before men!” they cried to -him, as in a kind of solemn petition and adjuration. Was it not in -reality a petition too—the petition of the whole world lying in dark -bondage of soul, paralyzed under a black spectral nightmare and -triple-hatted chimera, calling itself Father in God, and what not—“Free -us; it rests with thee; desert us not!”</p> - -<p>Luther did not desert us. His speech of two hours distinguished itself -by its respectful, wise, and honest tone;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_224" id="page_224">{224}</a></span> submissive to whatsoever -could lawfully claim submission, not submissive to any more than that. -His writings, he said, were partly his own, partly derived from the Word -of God. As to what was his own, human infirmity entered into it; -unguarded anger, blindness, many things, doubtless, which it were a -blessing for him could he abolish altogether. But as to what stood on -sound truth and the Word of God, he could not recant it. How could he? -“Confute me,” he concluded, “by proofs of Scripture, or else by plain, -just arguments. I can not recant otherwise; for it is neither safe nor -prudent to do aught against conscience. Here stand I; I can do no other. -God assist me!” It is, as we say, the greatest moment in the modern -history of men. English Puritanism, England and its Parliaments, -Americas, and the vast work done in these two centuries; French -Revolution, Europe and its work everywhere at present—the germ of it -all lay there. Had Luther in that moment done other, it had all been -otherwise! The European world was asking him: Am I to sink ever lower -into falsehood, stagnant putrescence, loathsome, accursed death; or, -with what paroxysm, to cast the falsehoods out of me, and be cured and -live?</p> - -<p>Great wars, contentions, and disunion followed out of this Reformation, -which last down to our day, and are yet far from ended. Great talk and -crimination has been made about these. They are lamentable, undeniable; -but, after all, what has Luther or his cause to do with them? It seems -strange reasoning to charge the Reformation with all this. When Hercules -turned the purifying river into King Augeas’s stables, I have no doubt -the confusion that resulted was considerable all around, but I think it -was not Hercules’s blame; it was some other’s blame! The Reformation -might bring what results it liked when it came, but the Reformation -simply could not help coming.</p> - -<p>Of Luther I will add now, in reference to all these wars and bloodshed, -the noticeable fact that none of them began<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_225" id="page_225">{225}</a></span> so long as he continued -living. The controversy did not get to fighting so long as he was there. -To me it is a proof of his greatness in all senses, this fact. How -seldom do we find a man that has stirred up some vast commotion, who -does not himself perish, swept away in it! Such is the usual course of -revolutionists. Luther continued, in a good degree, sovereign of this -greatest revolution; all Protestants, of what rank or function soever, -looking much to him for guidance; and he held it peaceably, continued -firm at the center of it. A man to do this must have a kingly faculty; -he must have the gift to discern at all turns where the true heart of -the matter lies, and to plant himself courageously on that, as a strong, -true man, that other true men may rally round him there. He will not -continue leader of men otherwise. Luther’s clear, deep force of -judgment, his force of all sorts—of <i>silence</i>, of tolerance and -moderation among others—are very notable in these circumstances.</p> - -<p>Tolerance, I say; a very genuine kind of tolerance: he distinguishes -what is essential, and what is not; the unessential may go very much as -it will. A complaint comes to him that such and such a reformed preacher -“will not preach without a cassock.” “Well,” answers Luther, “what harm -will a cassock do the man? Let him have a cassock to preach in; let him -have three cassocks, if he find benefit in them!” His conduct in the -matter of Carlstadt’s wild image-breaking; of the Anabaptists; of the -Peasants’ war, shows a noble strength, very different from spasmodic -violence. With sure, prompt insight, he discriminates what is what; a -strong, just man, he speaks forth what is the wise course, and all men -follow him in that. Luther’s written works give similar testimony of -him. The dialect of these speculations is now grown obsolete for us, but -one still reads them with a singular attraction. And, indeed, the mere -grammatical diction is still legible enough. Luther’s merit in literary -history is of the greatest; his dialect became the language of all -writing. They are not well writ<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_226" id="page_226">{226}</a></span>ten, these four-and-twenty quartos of -his; written hastily, with quite other than literary objects. But in no -books have I found a more robust, genuine, I will say noble, faculty of -a man than in these. A rugged honesty, homeliness, simplicity; a rugged, -sterling sense and strength. He flashes out illumination from him; his -smiting idiomatic phrases seem to cleave into the very secret of the -matter. Good humor too, nay, tender affection, nobleness, and depth. -This man could have been a poet too! He had to <i>work</i> an epic poem, and -not write one. I call him a great thinker; as, indeed, his greatness of -heart already betokens that.</p> - -<p>Richter says of Luther’s words, “His words are half-battles.” They may -be called so. The essential quality of him was, that he could fight and -conquer—that he was a right piece of human valor. No more valiant man, -no mortal heart to be called <i>braver</i>, that one has record of, ever -lived in that Teutonic kindred whose character is valor. His defiance of -the “devils” in Worms was not a mere boast, as the like might be if now -spoken. It was a faith of Luther’s that there were devils, spiritual -denizens of the pit, continually besetting men. Many times in his -writings this turns up, and a most small sneer has been grounded on it -by some.</p> - -<p>In the room of the Wartburg, where he sat translating the Bible, they -still show you a black spot on the wall, the strange memorial of one of -these conflicts. Luther was translating one of the Psalms; he was worn -down with long labor, with sickness, abstinence from food; there rose -before him some hideous, indefinable image, which he took for the Evil -One, to forbid his work. Luther started up with fiend-defiance, flung -his inkstand at the specter, and it disappeared! The spot still remains -there, a curious monument of several things. Any apothecary’s apprentice -can now tell us what we are to think of this apparition in a scientific -sense; but the man’s heart that dare rise defiant, face to face, against -hell itself, can give no higher proof of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_227" id="page_227">{227}</a></span> fearlessness. The thing he -will quail before exists not on this earth or under it. Fearless enough! -“The devil is aware,” writes he on one occasion, “that this does not -proceed out of fear in me. I have seen and defied innumerable devils.” -Of Duke George, of Leipsic, a great enemy of his, he said, “Duke George -is not equal to one devil—far short of a devil! If I had business at -Leipsic, I would ride into Leipsic, though it rained Duke Georges for -nine days running.” What a reservoir of dukes to ride into!</p> - -<p>At the same time, they err greatly who imagine that this man’s courage -was ferocity—mere coarse, disobedient obstinacy and savagery—as many -do. Far from that. There may be an absence of fear, which arises from -the absence of thought or affection, from the presence of hatred and -stupid fury. We do not value the courage of the tiger highly. With -Luther it was far otherwise; no accusation could be more unjust than -this mere ferocious violence brought against him. A most gentle heart -withal, full of pity and love, as, indeed, the truly valiant heart ever -is. The tiger before a <i>stronger</i> foe flies. The tiger is not what we -call valiant, only fierce and cruel. I know few things more touching -than those soft breathings of affection—soft as a child’s or a -mother’s—in this great, wild heart of Luther. So honest, unadulterated -with any cant; homely, rude in their utterance; pure as water welling -from the rock. What, in fact, was all this downpressed mood of despair -and reprobation which we saw in his youth but the outcome of -pre-eminent, thoughtful gentleness, affections too keen and pure? It is -the curse such men as the poor poet Cowper fall into. Luther, to a -slight observer, might have seemed a timid, weak man; modesty, -affectionate, shrinking tenderness the chief distinction of him. It is a -noble valor which is roused in a heart like this, once stirred up into -defiance, all kindled into a heavenly blaze.</p> - -<p>In Luther’s “Table-Talk,” a posthumous book of anecdotes and sayings -collected by his friends—the most inter<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_228" id="page_228">{228}</a></span>esting now of all the books -proceeding from him—we have many beautiful, unconscious displays of the -man and what sort of nature he had. His behavior at the death-bed of his -little daughter—so still, so great and loving—is among the most -affecting things. He is resigned that his little Magdalene should die, -yet longs inexpressibly that she might live—follows, in awe-struck -thought, the flight of her little soul through those unknown realms. -Awestruck—most heartfelt, we can see; and sincere—for, after all -dogmatic creeds and articles, he feels what nothing it is that we know -or can know. His little Magdalene shall be with God, as God wills; for -Luther, too, that is all.</p> - -<p>Once he looks out from his solitary Patmos, the castle of Coburg, in the -middle of the night. The great vault of immensity, long flights of -clouds sailing through it—dumb, gaunt, huge—who supports all that? -“None ever saw the pillars of it; yet it is supported.” God supports it. -We must know that God is great, that God is good; and trust, where we -can not see. Returning home from Leipsic once, he is struck by the -beauty of the harvest-fields. How it stands, that golden yellow corn, on -its fair taper stem, its golden head bent, all rich and waving there; -the meek earth, at God’s kind bidding, has produced it once again—the -bread of man! In the garden of Wittenberg, one evening at sunset, a -little bird has perched for the night. That little bird, says Luther; -above it are the stars and deep heaven of worlds; yet it has folded its -little wings; gone trustfully to rest there as in its home. The maker of -it has given it, too, a home! Neither are mirthful turns wanting—there -is a great, free, human heart in this man.</p> - -<p>The common speech of him has a rugged nobleness; idiomatic, expressive, -genuine; gleams here and there with beautiful poetic tints. One feels -him to be a great brother man. His love of music, indeed—is not this, -as it were, the summary of all these affections in him? Many a wild -un<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_229" id="page_229">{229}</a></span>utterability he spoke forth from him in the tones of his flute. The -devils fled from his flute, he says. Death-defiance on the one hand, and -such love of music on the other—I could call these the two opposite -poles of a great soul; between these two all great things had room.</p> - -<p>Luther’s face is to me expressive of him. In Kranach’s best portraits I -find the true Luther. A rude plebeian face, with its huge, crag-like -brows and bones—the emblem of rugged energy—at first, almost a -repulsive face. Yet in the eyes especially there is a wild, silent -sorrow; an unnamable melancholy, the element of all gentle and fine -affections; giving to the rest the true stamp of nobleness. Laughter was -in this Luther, as we said; but tears also were there. Tears also were -appointed him; tears and hard toil. The basis of his life was sadness, -earnestness. In his latter days, after all triumphs and victories, he -expresses himself heartily weary of living. He considers that God alone -can and will regulate the course things are taking, and that perhaps the -day of judgment is not far. As for him, he longs for one thing—that God -would release him from his labor, and let him depart and be at rest. -They understood little of the man who cite this in discredit of him! I -will call this Luther a true great man; great in intellect, in courage, -affection, and integrity; one of our most lovable and precious men. -Great, not as a hewn obelisk, but as an Alpine mountain; so simple, -honest, spontaneous; not setting up to be great at all; there for quite -another purpose than being great! Ah, yes, unsubduable granite, piercing -far and wide into the heavens; yet, in the clefts of its fountains, -green, beautiful valleys with flowers! A right spiritual hero and -prophet; once more, a true son of nature and fact, for whom these -centuries, and many that are to come yet, will be thankful to Heaven.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_230" id="page_230">{230}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="LOYOLA" id="LOYOLA"></a>IGNATIUS DE LOYOLA (SAINT), FOUNDER OF THE ORDER OF JESUS.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By Sir JAMES STEPHEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Don Inigo Lopez de Recalde de Loyola, born in 1491, died in 1556. -The scion of one of the noblest families in Spain, he was courtier -and soldier till he was severely wounded in defending the city of -Pampeluna against the French. A prisoner and a cripple, he became a -religious enthusiast and ascetic, and conceived the idea of forming -a body of religious soldiery for the defense of the Roman hierarchy -against the assaults of its foes. After studying for the priesthood -and taking orders, he went to Rome and with some difficulty -persuaded the pontiff Paul III, who dreaded the fanatical -discipline of such an order as much as he recognized its value, to -issue a bull in sanction of his plan. The Society of Jesus was thus -organized, and soon became, as it has continued to be, the most -powerful bulwark of Romanism, the most active center of aggression -and propagandism. The foundation of this order is recognized by -historians as an epoch in the history of religion.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Descended</span> from an illustrious family, Ignatius had in his youth been a -courtier and a cavalier, and, if not a poet, at least a cultivator of -poetry. At the siege of Pampeluna his leg was broken, and, after the -failure of mere vulgar leeches, was set by a touch from the hand of the -prince of apostles. Yet St. Peter’s therapeutic skill was less perfect -than might have been expected from so exalted a chirurgeon; for a -splinter still protruded through the skin, and the limb was shrunk and -shortened. To regain his fair proportions, Ignatius had himself -literally stretched upon the rack; and expiated by a long confinement to -his couch this singular experiment to reduce his refractory bones and -sinews. Books of knighthood relieved the lassitude of sickness, and when -these were exhausted, he betook himself to a series of still more -marvelous romances. In the legends of the Saints the disabled soldier -discovered a new field of</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_010" style="width: 449px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp230.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp230.jpg" width="449" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>LOYOLA.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_231" id="page_231">{231}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">emulation and glory. Compared with their self-conquests and high -rewards, the achievements and the renown of Roland and of Amadis waxed -dim. Compared with the peerless damsel for whose smiles Palladius had -fought and died, how transcendently glorious the image of female -loveliness and angelic purity which had irradiated the hermit’s cell and -the path of the way-worn pilgrims!</p> - -<p>Far as the heavens are above the earth would be the plighted fealty of -the knight of the Virgin Mother beyond the noblest devotion of merely -human chivalry. In her service he would cast his shield over the Church -which ascribed to her more than celestial dignities, and bathe in the -blood of her enemies the sword once desecrated to the mean ends of -worldly ambition. Nor were these vows unheeded by her to whom they were -addressed. Environed in light, and clasping her infant to her bosom, she -revealed herself to the adoring gaze of her champion. At that heavenly -vision all fantasies of worldly and sensual delight, like exorcised -demons, fled from his soul into eternal exile. He rose, suspended at her -shrine his secular weapons, performed there his nocturnal devotions, and -with returning day retired to consecrate his future life to the glory of -the <i>Virgo Deipara</i>.</p> - -<p>To these erotic dreams succeeded stern realities; convulsive agonies of -prayer, wailings of remorse, and self-inflicted bodily torments. -Exchanging dresses with a beggar, he lined his gabardine with prickly -thorns, fasted to the verge of starvation, assumed the demeanor of an -idiot, became too loathsome for human contact, and then, plunging into a -gloomy cavern, surrendered himself up to such wrestlings with the evil -spirit, and to such vicissitudes of rapture and despair, that in the -storm of turbid passions his reason had nearly given way.</p> - -<p>At the verge of madness, Ignatius paused. That noble intellect was not -to be whelmed beneath the tempest in which so many have sunk, nor was -his deliverance to be accomplished by any vulgar methods. Standing on -the steps<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_232" id="page_232">{232}</a></span> of a Dominican church, he recited the office of Our Lady, -when suddenly heaven itself was laid open to the eyes of the worshiper. -That ineffable mystery which the author of the Athanasian creed has -labored in vain to enunciate in words, was disclosed to him as an -object, not of faith, but of actual sight. To his spiritualized sense -was disclosed the actual process by which the host is transubstantiated, -and the other Christian verities which it is permitted to common man to -receive but as exercises of their belief, became to him the objects of -immediate inspection and of direct consciousness. For eight successive -days his body reposed in an unbroken trance, while his spirit thus -imbibed disclosures for which the tongues of men have no appropriate -language.</p> - -<p>Ignatius returned to this sublunary sphere with a mission not unmeet for -an envoy from the empyrean world, of which he had thus become a -temporary denizen. He returned to earth to establish a theocracy, of -which he should himself be the first administrator, and to which every -tribe and kindred of men should be subject. He returned no longer a -sordid, half-distracted anchorite, but, strange to tell, a man -distinguished not more by the gigantic magnitude of his designs than by -the clear good sense, the profound sagacity, the calm perseverance, and -the flexible address with which he was to pursue them. History affords -no more perfect illustration how readily delirious enthusiasm and the -shrewdness of the exchange may combine and harmonize in minds of the -heroic order. A Swedenborg-Franklin reconciling in himself these -antagonist propensities is no monster of the fancy.</p> - -<p>Of all the occupations to which man can devote the earlier years of his -life, none probably leaves on the character an impress so deep and -indelible as the profession of arms. In no other calling is the whole -range of our sympathetic affections, whether kindly or the reverse, -called into such habitual and active exercise, nor does any other -stimulate the mere intellectual powers with a force so irre<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_233" id="page_233">{233}</a></span>sistible -when once they are effectually aroused from their accustomed torpor. -Loyola was a soldier to the last breath he drew, a general whose -authority none might question, a comrade on whose cordiality all might -rely, sustaining all the dangers and hardships he exacted from his -followers, and in his religious campaigns a strategist of consummate -skill and most comprehensive survey. It was his maxim that war ought to -be aggressive, and that even an inadequate force might be wisely -weakened by detachments on a distant service, if the prospect of success -was such that the vague and perhaps exaggerated rumor of it would strike -terror into nearer foes and animate the hopes of irresolute allies. To -conquer Lutheranism by converting to the faith of Rome the barbarous or -half-civilized nations of the earth was, therefore, among the earliest -of his projects.</p> - -<p>Though not in books, yet in the far nobler school of active and -especially of military life, Loyola had learned the great secret of -government—at least, of his government. It was that the social -affections, if concentrated within a well-defined circle, possess an -intensity and endurance unrivaled by those passions of which self is the -immediate object. He had the sagacity to perceive that emotions like -those with which a Spartan or a Jew had yearned over the land and the -institutions of their fathers—emotions stronger than appetite, vanity, -ambition, avarice, or death itself—might be kindled in the members of -his order; if he could detect and grasp those mainsprings of human -action of which the Greek and the Hebrew legislators had obtained the -mastery. Nor did he seek them in vain.</p> - -<p>Some unconscious love of power, a mind bewildered by many gross -superstitions and theoretical errors, and perhaps some tinge of -insanity, may be ascribed to Ignatius Loyola; but no dispassionate -reader of his writings or of his life will question his integrity, or -deny to him the praise of a devotion at once sincere, habitual, and -profound. It is not to the glory of the reformers to depreciate the name -of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_234" id="page_234">{234}</a></span> greatest antagonist, or to think meanly of him to whom more -than any other man it is owing that the Reformation was stayed and the -Church of Rome rescued from her impending doom.</p> - -<p>From amid the controversies which then agitated the world had emerged -two great truths, of which, after three hundred years’ debate, we are -yet to find the reconcilement. It was true that the Christian -commonwealth should be one consentient body, united under one supreme -head, and bound together a community of law, of doctrine, and of -worship. It was also true that each member of that body must for -himself, on his own responsibility and at his own peril, render that -worship, study that law, and seek the guidance of the Supreme Ruler. -Here was a problem for the learned and wise, for schools, and presses, -and pulpits. But it is not by sages nor in the spirit of philosophy that -such problems receive their practical solution. Wisdom may be the -ultimate arbiter, but it is seldom the immediate agent in human affairs. -It is by antagonist passions, prejudices, and follies that the equipoise -of this most belligerent planet of ours is chiefly preserved, and so it -was in the sixteenth century. The German pointed the way to that sacred -solitude where beside the worshiper himself none may enter; the Spaniard -to that innumerable company which with one accord still chant the -liturgies of remotest generations. Chieftains in the most momentous -warfare of which this earth had been the theatre since the subversion of -paganism, each was a rival worthy of the other in capacity, courage, -disinterestedness, and love of the truth, and yet how marvelous the -contrast!</p> - -<p>Unalluring and, on the whole, unlovely as it is, the image of Loyola -must ever command the homage of the world. No other uninspired man, -unaided by military or civil power, and making no appeal to the passions -of the multitude, has had the genius to conceive, the courage to -attempt, and the success to establish a polity teeming with results at -once so<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_235" id="page_235">{235}</a></span> momentous and so distinctly foreseen. Amid his ascetic follies -and his half-crazy visions, and despite all the coarse daubing with -which the miracle-mongers of his church have defaced it, his character -is destitute neither of sublimity nor of grace. Men felt that there had -appeared among them one of those monarchs who reign in right of their -own native supremacy, and to whom the feebler will of others must yield -either a ready or a reluctant allegiance. It was a conviction recorded -by his disciples on his tomb in these memorable and significant words: -“Whoever thou mayst be who hast portrayed to thine own imagination -Pompey nor Cæsar or Alexander, open thine eyes to the truth, and let -this marble teach thee how much greater a conqueror than they was -Ignatius.”</p> - -<h2><a name="THOMAS_CROMWELL_EARL_OF_ESSEX" id="THOMAS_CROMWELL_EARL_OF_ESSEX"></a>THOMAS CROMWELL, EARL OF ESSEX.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born about 1498, executed 1540. Cromwell began his public career -as secretary of Cardinal Wolsey, and made a brilliant reputation -for administrative ability before his patron’s fall. He acquired -the notice of Henry VIII by his loyalty to the disgraced cardinal -when all other friends had deserted him. By the king’s favor he -received the highest offices of the state, and was made Prime -Minister, finally becoming earl of Essex. Cromwell was the -political leader of the English Reformation, and the most effective -instrument in concentrating power in the hands of the king. His -impeachment and execution for high treason, however he may have -deserved his fate for his cruelty and unscrupulousness, was gross -ingratitude on the part of Henry.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> debate on the suppression of the monasteries was the first instance -of opposition with which Cromwell had met, and for some time longer it -was to remain the only one. While the great revolution which struck down -the Church was in progress, England looked silently on. In all the -earlier ecclesiastical changes, in the contest over the Papal<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_236" id="page_236">{236}</a></span> -jurisdiction and Papal exactions, in the reform of the Church courts, -even in the curtailment of the legislative independence of the clergy, -the nation as a whole had gone with the king. But from the enslavement -of the clergy, from the gagging of the pulpits, from the suppression of -the monasteries, the bulk of the nation stood aloof. It is only through -the stray depositions of royal spies that we catch a glimpse of the -wrath and hate which lay seething under this silence of a whole people. -For the silence was a silence of terror. Before Cromwell’s rise and -after his fall from power the reign of Henry VIII witnessed no more than -the common tyranny and bloodshed of the time. But the years of -Cromwell’s administration form the one period in our history which -deserves the name which men have given to the rule of Robespierre. It -was the English Terror. It was by terror that Cromwell mastered the -king. Cranmer could plead for him at a later time with Henry as “one -whose surety was only by your majesty, who loved your majesty, as I ever -thought, no less than God.”</p> - -<p>But the attitude of Cromwell toward the king was something more than -that of absolute dependence and unquestioning devotion. He was “so -vigilant to preserve your majesty from all treasons,” adds the primate, -“that few could be so secretly conceived but he detected the same from -the beginning.” Henry, like every Tudor, was fearless of open danger, -but tremulously sensitive to the slightest breath of hidden disloyalty. -It was on this inner dread that Cromwell based the fabric of his power. -He was hardly secretary before a host of spies were scattered broadcast -over the land. Secret denunciations poured into the open ear of the -minister. The air was thick with tales of plots and conspiracies, and -with the detection and suppression of each Cromwell tightened his hold -on the king. And as it was by terror that he mastered the king, so it -was by terror that he mastered the people. Men felt in England, to use -the figure by which Erasmus paints the time, “as if<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_237" id="page_237">{237}</a></span> a scorpion lay -sleeping under every stone.” The confessional had no secrets for -Cromwell. Men’s talk with their closest friends found its way to his -ear. “Words idly spoken,” the murmurs of a petulant abbot, the ravings -of a moon-struck nun, were, as the nobles cried passionately at his -fall, “tortured into treason.” The only chance of safety lay in silence. -“Friends who used to write and send me presents,” Erasmus tells us, “now -send neither letter nor gifts, nor receive any from any one, and this -through fear.”</p> - -<p>But even the refuge of silence was closed by a law more infamous than -any that has ever blotted the statute-book of England. Not only was -thought made treason, but men were forced to reveal their thoughts on -pain of their very silence being punished with the penalties of treason. -All trust in the older bulwarks of liberty was destroyed by a policy as -daring as it was unscrupulous. The noblest institutions were degraded -into instruments of terror. Though Wolsey had strained the law to the -utmost, he had made no open attack on the freedom of justice. If he had -shrunk from assembling Parliaments, it was from his sense that they were -the bulwarks of liberty. Under Cromwell the coercion of juries and the -management of judges rendered the courts mere mouth-pieces of the royal -will: and where even this shadow of justice proved an obstacle to -bloodshed, Parliament was brought into play to pass bill after bill of -attainder. “He shall be judged by the bloody laws he has himself made,” -was the cry of the council at the moment of his fall, and, by a singular -retribution, the crowning injustice which he sought to introduce even -into the practice of attainder—the condemnation of a man without -hearing his defense—was only practiced on himself.</p> - -<p>But ruthless as was the Terror of Cromwell, it was of a nobler type than -the Terror of France. He never struck uselessly or capriciously, or -stooped to the meaner victims of the guillotine. His blows were -effective just because he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_238" id="page_238">{238}</a></span> chose his victims from among the noblest and -the best. If he struck at the Church, it was through the Carthusians, -the holiest and the most renowned of English churchmen. If he struck at -the baronage, it was through the Courtenays and the Poles, in whose -veins flowed the blood of kings. If he struck at the New Learning, it -was through the murder of Sir Thomas More. But no personal -vindictiveness mingled with his crime. In temper, indeed, so far as we -can judge from the few stories which lingered among his friends, he was -a generous, kind-hearted man, with pleasant and winning manners which -atoned for a certain awkwardness of person, and with a constancy of -friendship which won him a host of devoted adherents. But no touch -either of love or hate swayed him from his course.</p> - -<p>The student of Macchiavelli had not studied the “Prince” in vain. He had -reduced bloodshed to a system. Fragments of his papers still show us -with what a business-like brevity he ticked off human lives among the -casual “remembrances” of the day. “Item, the Abbot of Reading to be sent -down to be tried and executed at Reading.” “Item, to know the king’s -pleasure touching Master More.” “Item, when Master Fisher shall go to -his execution, and the other.” It is indeed this utter absence of all -passion, of all personal feeling, that makes the figure of Cromwell the -most terrible in our history. He has an absolute faith in the end he is -pursuing, and he simply hews his way to it as a woodman hews his way -through the forest, axe in hand.</p> - -<p>His single will forced on a scheme of foreign policy whose aim was to -bind England to the cause of the Reformation while it bound Henry -helplessly to his minister. The daring boast which his enemies laid -afterward to his charge, whether uttered or not, is but the expression -of his system. “In brief time he would bring things to such a pass that -the king with all his power should not be able to hinder him.” His plans -rested, like the plan which proved fatal to Wolsey, on a fresh marriage -of his master. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_239" id="page_239">{239}</a></span> short-lived royalty of Anne Boleyn had ended in -charges of adultery and treason, and in her death in May, 1536. Her -rival and successor in Henry’s affections, Jane Seymour, died the next -year in childbirth; and Cromwell replaced her with a German consort, -Anne of Cleves, a sister-in-law of the Lutheran elector of Saxony. He -dared even to resist Henry’s caprice, when the king revolted on their -first interview at the coarse features and unwieldy form of his new -bride. For the moment Cromwell had brought matters “to such a pass” that -it was impossible to recoil from the marriage.</p> - -<p>The marriage of Anne of Cleves, however, was but the first step in a -policy which, had it been carried out as he designed it, would have -anticipated the triumphs of Richelieu. Charles and the house of Austria -could alone bring about a Catholic reaction strong enough to arrest and -roll back the Reformation; and Cromwell was no sooner united with the -princes of North Germany than he sought to league them with France for -the overthrow of the emperor. Had he succeeded, the whole face of Europe -would have been changed, Southern Germany would have been secured for -Protestantism, and the Thirty Years’ War averted. He failed as men fail -who stand ahead of their age. The German princes shrank from a contest -with the emperor, France from a struggle which would be fatal to -Catholicism; and Henry, left alone to bear the resentment of the House -of Austria, and chained to a wife he loathed, turned savagely on -Cromwell. The nobles sprang on him with a fierceness that told of their -long-hoarded hate. Taunts and execrations burst from the lords at the -council table, as the Duke of Norfolk, who had been charged with the -minister’s arrest, tore the ensign of the garter from his neck. At the -charge of treason Cromwell flung his cap on the ground with a passionate -cry of despair. “This, then,” he exclaimed, “is my guerdon for the -services I have done! On your consciences, I ask you, am I a traitor?” -Then, with a sudden<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_240" id="page_240">{240}</a></span> sense that all was over, he bade his foes “make -quick work, and not leave me to languish in prison.” Quick work was -made, and a yet louder burst of popular applause than that which hailed -the attainder of Cromwell hailed his execution.</p> - -<h2><a name="CHARLES_V_EMPEROR_OF_GERMANY" id="CHARLES_V_EMPEROR_OF_GERMANY"></a>CHARLES V, EMPEROR OF GERMANY.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Charles V, of Germany, and king of Spain under title of Charles I, -born 1500, died 1558. This fortunate monarch inherited from his -father, Archduke Philip of Austria, the Hapsburg dominion in -Germany; through his grandmother, the dukedom of Burgundy, which -included the Netherlands; and through his maternal grandfather, -Ferdinand of Spain, the magnificent dominion of the latter country -in both the New and Old Worlds. He was elected Emperor of Germany -by the diet in 1519, and was the most rich and powerful prince in -Christendom. Among the notable events of his reign were the -outbreak of Luther’s reformation, the defeat and capture of Francis -I of France, the capture and sack of Rome by his generalissimo, the -Constable de Bourbon, the two defeats of the Turkish power in -Hungary, and the severe punishment of the Mohammedan pirates of -Africa. Though Charles could turn his arms against the pontiff when -policy dictated, and was not a religious bigot, he strained every -nerve to suppress the Lutheran reformation for political reasons. -He was at last, however, obliged to assent to a certain degree of -religious toleration, fixed by the Nuremburg agreement in 1532, and -that of Augsburg in 1548. He abdicated in favor of his son Philip -in 1556, and spent the last two years of his life in the convent of -Yuste in Spain.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> edicts and the Inquisition were the gifts of Charles to the -Netherlands, in return for their wasted treasure and their constant -obedience. For this his name deserves to be handed down to eternal -infamy, not only throughout the Netherlands but in every land where a -single heart beats for political or religious freedom. To eradicate -these institutions after they had been watered and watched by the care -of his successor, was the work of an eighty years’ war, in the course of -which millions of lives were sacrificed. Yet</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_011" style="width: 449px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp240.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp240.jpg" width="449" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>CHARLES THE FIFTH.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_241" id="page_241">{241}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">the abdicating emperor had summoned his faithful estates around him, and -stood up before them in his imperial robes for the last time, to tell -them of the affectionate regard which he had always borne them, and to -mingle his tears with theirs.</p> - -<p>Could a single phantom have risen from one of the many thousand graves -where human beings had been thrust alive by his decree, perhaps there -might have been an answer to the question propounded by the emperor amid -all that piteous weeping. Perhaps it might have told the man, who asked -his hearers to be forgiven if he had ever unwittingly offended them, -that there was a world where it was deemed an offence to torture, -strangle, burn, and drown one’s innocent fellow-creatures. The usual but -trifling excuse for such enormities can not be pleaded for the emperor. -Charles was no fanatic. The man whose armies sacked Rome, who laid -sacrilegious hand on Christ’s vicegerent, and kept the infallible head -of the Church a prisoner to serve his own political ends, was <i>then</i> no -bigot. He believed in nothing, save that when the course of his imperial -will was impeded and the interests of his imperial house in jeopardy, -pontiffs were wont to succumb as well as anabaptists. It was the -political heresy which lurked in the restiveness of the religious -reformers under dogma, tradition, and supernatural sanction to temporal -power, which he was disposed to combat to the death. He was too shrewd a -politician not to recognize the connection between aspirations for -religious and for political freedom. His hand was ever ready to crush -both heresies in one. Had he been a true son of the Church, a faithful -champion of her infallibility, he would not have submitted to the peace -of Passau so long as he could bring a soldier to the field.</p> - -<p>Yet he acquiesced in the Reformation for Germany, while the fires were -burning for the reformers and were ever blazing in the Netherlands, -where it was death even to allude to the existence of the peace of -Passau. Nor did he acquiesce<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_242" id="page_242">{242}</a></span> only from compulsion, for, long before his -memorable defeat by Maurice, he had permitted the German troops, with -whose services he could not dispense, regularly to attend Protestant -worship performed by their own Protestant chaplains. Lutheran preachers -marched from city to city of the Netherlands under the imperial banner, -while the subjects of those patrimonial provinces were daily suffering -on the scaffold for their non-conformity.</p> - -<p>The influence of this garrison-preaching upon the progress of the -Reformation in the Netherlands is well known. Charles hated Lutherans, -but he required soldiers, and he thus helped by his own policy to -disseminate what, had he been the fanatic which he perhaps became in -retirement, he would have sacrificed his life to crush. It is quite true -that the growing Calvinism of the provinces was more dangerous, both -religiously and politically, than the Protestantism of the German -princes, which had not yet been formally pronounced heresy; but it is -thus the more evident that it was political rather than religious -heterodoxy which the despot wished to suppress.</p> - -<p>No man, however, could have been more observant of religious rites. He -heard mass daily. He listened to a sermon every Sunday and holiday. He -confessed and received the sacrament four times a year. He was sometimes -to be seen in his tent at midnight on his knees before a crucifix, with -eyes and hands uplifted. He ate no meat in Lent, and used extraordinary -diligence to discover and to punish any man, whether courtier or -plebeian, who failed to fast during the whole forty days. He was too -good a politician not to know the value of broad phylacteries and long -prayers. He was too nice an observer of human nature not to know how -easily mint and cummin could still outweigh the “weightier matters of -law, judgment, mercy, and faith”; as if the founder of the religion -which he professed, and to maintain which he had established the -inquisition and the edicts, had never cried “woe” upon the Pharisees.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_243" id="page_243">{243}</a></span></p> - -<p>Yet there is no doubt that the emperor was at times almost popular in -the Netherlands, and that he was never as odious as his successor. There -were some deep reasons for this, and some superficial ones; among -others, a singularly fortunate manner. He spoke German, Spanish, -Italian, French, and Flemish, and could assume the characteristics of -each country as easily as he could use its language. He could be stately -with Spaniards, familiar with Flemings, witty with Italians. He could -strike down a bull in the ring like a matador at Madrid, or win the -prize in the tourney like a knight of old; he could ride at the ring -with the Flemish nobles, hit the popinjay with his cross-bow among -Antwerp artisans, or drink beer and exchange rude jests with the boors -of Brabant. For virtues such as these his grave crimes against God and -man, against religion and chartered and solemnly-sworn rights, have been -palliated, as if oppression became more tolerable because the oppressor -was an accomplished linguist and a good marksman.</p> - -<p>But the great reason for his popularity, no doubt, lay in his military -genius. Charles was inferior to no general of his age. “When he was born -into the world,” said Alva, “he was born a soldier”; and the emperor -confirmed the statement and reciprocated the compliment, when he -declared that “the three first captains of the age was himself first, -and then the Duke of Alva and Constable Montmorency.” It is quite true -that all his officers were not of the same opinion, and many were too -apt to complain that his constant presence in the field did more harm -than good, and “that his Majesty would do much better to stay at home.” -There is, however, no doubt that he was both a good soldier and a good -general. He was constitutionally fearless, and he possessed great energy -and endurance. He was ever the first to arm when a battle was to be -fought, and the last to take off his harness. He commanded in person and -in chief, even when surrounded by veterans and crippled by the gout. He -was calm in great reverses. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_244" id="page_244">{244}</a></span> was said that he was never known to -change color except upon two occasions—after the fatal destruction of -his fleet at Algiers, and in the memorable flight from Innspruck.</p> - -<p>He was of a phlegmatic, stoical temperament, until shattered by age and -disease; a man without sentiment and without a tear. It was said by -Spaniards that he was never seen to weep, even at the death of his -nearest relatives and friends, except on the solitary occasion of the -departure of Don Ferrante Gonzaga from court. Such a temperament was -invaluable in the stormy career to which he had devoted his life. He was -essentially a man of action, a military chieftain. “Pray only for my -health and my life,” he was accustomed to say to the young officers who -came to him from every part of his dominions to serve under his banners, -“for so long as I have these I will never leave you idle—at least in -France. I love peace no better than the rest of you. I was born and bred -to arms, and must of necessity keep on my harness till I can bear it no -longer.” The restless energy and the magnificent tranquillity of his -character made him a hero among princes, an idol with his officers, a -popular favorite everywhere. The promptness with which, at much personal -hazard, he descended like a thunderbolt in the midst of the Ghent -insurrection; the juvenile ardor with which the almost bed-ridden man -arose from his sickbed to smite the Protestants at Mühlberg; the grim -stoicism with which he saw sixty thousand of his own soldiers perish in -the wintry siege of Metz—all insured him a large measure of that -applause which ever follows military distinction, especially when the -man who achieves it happens to wear a crown. He combined the personal -prowess of a knight of old with the more modern accomplishments of a -scientific tactician. He could charge the enemy in person like the most -brilliant cavalry officer, and he thoroughly understood the arrangements -of a campaign, the marshaling and victualing of troops, and the whole -art of setting and maintaining an army in the field.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_245" id="page_245">{245}</a></span></p> - -<p>Yet, though brave and warlike as the most chivalrous of his -ancestors—Gothic, Burgundian, or Suabian—he was entirely without -chivalry. Fanaticism for the faith, protection for the oppressed, -fidelity to friend or foe, knightly loyalty to a cause deemed sacred, -the sacrifice of personal interests to great ideas, generosity of hand -and heart—all those qualities which unite with courage and constancy to -make up the ideal chevalier, Charles not only lacked but despised. He -trampled on the weak antagonist, whether burgher or petty potentate. He -was false as water. He inveigled his foes, who trusted to his imperial -promises, by arts unworthy an emperor or a gentleman. He led about the -unfortunate John Frederic, of Saxony, in his own language, “like a bear -in a chain,” ready to be slipped upon Maurice should “the boy” prove -ungrateful. He connived at the famous forgery of the prelate of Arras, -to which the Landgrave Philip owed his long imprisonment—a villainy -worse than many for which humbler rogues have suffered by thousands upon -the gallows. The contemporary world knew well the history of his frauds, -on scale both colossal and minute, and called him familiarly “Charles -qui triche.”</p> - -<p>The absolute master of realms on which the sun perpetually shone, he was -not only greedy for additional dominion, but he was avaricious in small -matters, and hated to part with a hundred dollars. To the soldier who -brought him the sword and gauntlets of Francis I he gave a hundred -crowns, when ten thousand would have been less than the customary -present; so that the man left his presence full of desperation. The -three soldiers who swam the Elbe, with their swords in their mouths, to -bring him the boats with which he passed to the victory of Mühlberg, -received from his imperial bounty a doublet, a pair of stockings, and -four crowns apiece. His courtiers and ministers complained bitterly of -his habitual niggardliness, and were fain to eke out their slender -salaries by accepting bribes from every hand rich enough to bestow them. -In truth, Charles was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_246" id="page_246">{246}</a></span> more than anything else a politician, -notwithstanding his signal abilities as a soldier.</p> - -<p>If to have founded institutions which could last be the test of -statesmanship, he was even a statesman, for many of his institutions -have resisted the pressure of three centuries; but those of Charlemagne -fell as soon as his hand was cold, while the works of many ordinary -legislators have attained to a perpetuity denied to the statutes of -Solon or Lycurgus. Durability is not the test of merit in human -institutions. Tried by the only touchstone applicable to governments, -their capacity to insure the highest welfare of the governed, we shall -not find his polity deserving of much admiration. It is not merely that -he was a despot by birth and inclination, nor that he naturally -substituted, as far as was practicable, the despotic for the republican -element wherever his hand can be traced. There may be possible good in -despotisms, as there is often much tyranny in democracy. Tried, however, -according to the standard by which all governments may be measured, -those laws of truth and divine justice which all Christian nations -recognize, and which are perpetual, whether recognized or not, we shall -find little to venerate in the life-work of the emperor. The interests -of his family, the security of his dynasty—these were his end and aim. -The happiness or the progress of his people never furnished even the -indirect motives of his conduct, and the result was a baffled policy and -a crippled and bankrupt empire at last.</p> - -<p>He knew men—especially he knew their weaknesses, and he knew how to -turn them to account. He knew how much they would bear, and that little -grievances would sometimes inflame more than vast and deliberate -injustice. Therefore he employed natives mainly in the subordinate -offices of his various states, and he repeatedly warned his successor -that the haughtiness of Spaniards and the incompatibility of their -character with the Flemish would be productive of great difficulties and -dangers. It was his opin<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_247" id="page_247">{247}</a></span>ion that men might be tyrannized more -intelligently by their own kindred, and in this, perhaps, he was right. -He was indefatigable in the discharge of business; and if it were -possible that half a world could be administered as if it were the -private property of an individual, the task would have been, perhaps, as -well accomplished by Charles as by any man. He had not the absurdity of -supposing it possible for him to attend to the details of every -individual affair in every one of his realms, and he therefore intrusted -the stewardship of all specialties to his various ministers and agents. -It was his business to know men and to deal with affairs on a large -scale, and in this he certainly was superior to his successor. His -correspondence was mainly in the hands of Granvelle the elder, who -analyzed letters received, and frequently wrote all but the signatures -of the answers. The same minister usually possessed the imperial ear, -and farmed it out for his own benefit. In all this there was, of course, -room for vast deception; but the emperor was quite aware of what was -going on, and took a philosophic view of the matter as an inevitable -part of his system. Granvelle grew enormously rich under his eye by -trading on the imperial favor and sparing his Majesty much trouble.</p> - -<p>Charles saw it all, ridiculed his peculations, but called him his “bed -of down.” His knowledge of human nature was, however, derived from a -contemplation mainly of its weaknesses, and was therefore one-sided. He -was often deceived and made many a fatal blunder, shrewd politician -though he was. He involved himself often in enterprises which could not -be honorable or profitable, and which inflicted damage on his greatest -interests. He often offended men who might have been useful friends, and -converted allies into enemies. “His Majesty,” said a keen observer who -knew him well, “has not in his career shown the prudence which was -necessary to him. He has often offended those whose love he might have -conciliated, converted<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_248" id="page_248">{248}</a></span> friends into enemies, and let those perish who -were his most faithful partisans.” Thus it must be acknowledged that -even his boasted knowledge of human nature and his power of dealing with -men was rather superficial and empirical than the real gift of genius.</p> - -<h2><a name="WILLIAM_OF_NASSAU_PRINCE_OF_ORANGE" id="WILLIAM_OF_NASSAU_PRINCE_OF_ORANGE"></a>WILLIAM OF NASSAU, PRINCE OF ORANGE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Surnamed “the Silent,” founder of the independence of the -Netherlands, born 1533, assassinated 1584. Though the scion of a -Protestant family, the Prince of Orange was educated to arms and -diplomacy at the court of Charles V, by whom he was greatly beloved -and trusted. On the accession of Philip he was made a Councilor of -State to assist Margaret of Parma in her regency over the -Netherlands. All ties of loyalty were gradually destroyed by his -love of country, so terribly outraged by the cruelties of a bigoted -king and his no less bigoted agents. On Alva’s arrival with Spanish -troops the prince returned to Germany, and thus saved himself from -the headsman, the fate which befell counts Egmont and Horn, two of -the most eminent Flemish patriots. In the uprising of the -Netherlands, which followed, the Prince of Orange was the most -eminent figure, and to the consummate skill with which he guided -the fate of his people their ultimate success was due. William, at -the head of his brave Flemings, and with the capricious assistance -of France and England, wore out three of the greatest generals of -the age, the Duke of Alva, Don John of Austria, and Prince -Alexander Farnese. The price put on his assassination by the King -of Spain was finally earned by Baltazar Gérard, a Burgundian -fanatic.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> person, Orange was above the middle height, perfectly well made and -sinewy, but rather spare than stout. His eyes, hair, beard, and -complexion were brown; his head was small, symmetrically shaped, -combining the alertness and compactness characteristic of the soldier, -with the capacious brow furrowed prematurely with the horizontal lines -of</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_012" style="width: 447px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp248.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp248.jpg" width="447" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>WILLIAM OF NASSAU.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_249" id="page_249">{249}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">thought, denoting the statesman and the sage. His physical appearance -was, therefore, in harmony with his organization, which was of antique -model. Of his moral qualities, the most prominent was his piety. He was -more than anything else a religious man. From his trust in God he ever -derived support and consolation in the darkest hours. Implicitly relying -upon Almighty wisdom and goodness, he looked danger in the face with a -constant smile, and endured incessant labors and trials with a serenity -which seemed more than human. While, however, his soul was full of -piety, it was tolerant of error.</p> - -<p>Sincerely and deliberately himself a convert to the Reformed Church, he -was ready to extend freedom of worship to Catholics on the one hand, and -to Anabaptists on the other; for no man ever felt more keenly than he, -that the reformer who becomes in his turn a bigot is doubly odious.</p> - -<p>His firmness was allied to his piety. His constancy in bearing the whole -weight of as unequal a struggle as men have ever undertaken, was the -theme of admiration even to his enemies. The rock in the ocean, -“tranquil amid raging billows,” was the favorite emblem by which his -friends expressed their sense of his firmness. From the time when, as a -hostage in France, he first discovered the plan of Philip to plant the -Inquisition in the Netherlands, up to the last moment of his life, he -never faltered in his determination to resist that iniquitous scheme. -This resistance was the labor of his life. To exclude the Inquisition, -to maintain the ancient liberties of his country, was the task which he -appointed to himself when a youth of three-and-twenty. Never speaking a -word concerning a heavenly mission, never deluding himself or others -with the usual phraseology of enthusiasts, he accomplished the task, -through danger, amid toils, and with sacrifices such as few men have -ever been able to make on their country’s altar; for the disinterested -benevolence of the man was as prominent as his fortitude.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_250" id="page_250">{250}</a></span></p> - -<p>A prince of high rank and with royal revenues, he stripped himself of -station, wealth, almost, at times, of the common necessaries of life, -and became, in his country’s cause, nearly a beggar as well as an -outlaw. Nor was he forced into his career by an accidental impulse from -which there was no recovery. Retreat was ever open to him. Not only -pardon but advancement was urged upon him again and again. Officially -and privately, directly and circuitously, his confiscated estates, -together with indefinite and boundless favors in addition, were offered -to him on every great occasion. On the arrival of Don John at the Breda -negotiations, at the Cologne conferences, we have seen how calmly these -offers were waved aside, as if their rejection was so simple that it -hardly required many words for its signification; yet he had mortgaged -his estate so deeply that his heirs hesitated at accepting their -inheritance, for fear it should involve them in debt. Ten years after -his death, the account between his executors and his brother John -amounted to one million four hundred thousand florins due to the Count, -secured by various pledges of real and personal property, and it was -finally settled upon this basis.</p> - -<p>He was, besides, largely indebted to every one of his powerful -relatives, so that the payment of the incumbrances upon his estate very -nearly justified the fears of his children. While on the one hand, -therefore, he poured out these enormous sums like water, and firmly -refused a hearing to the tempting offers of the royal government, upon -the other hand he proved the disinterested nature of his services by -declining, year after year, the sovereignty over the provinces, and by -only accepting in the last days of his life, when refusal had become -almost impossible, the limited, constitutional supremacy over that -portion of them which now makes the realm of his descendants. He lived -and died, not for himself, but for his country. “God pity this poor -people!” were his dying words.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_251" id="page_251">{251}</a></span></p> - -<p>His intellectual faculties were various and of the highest order. He had -the exact, practical, and combining qualities which make the great -commander, and his friends claimed that, in military genius, he was -second to no captain in Europe. This was, no doubt, an exaggeration of -partial attachment, but it is certain that the Emperor Charles had an -exalted opinion of his capacity for the field. His fortification of -Philippeville and Charlemont, in the face of the enemy; his passage of -the Meuse in Alva’s sight; his unfortunate but well-ordered campaign -against that general; his sublime plan of relief, projected and -successfully directed at last from his sick bed, for the besieged city -of Leyden, will always remain monuments of his practical military skill.</p> - -<p>Of the soldier’s great virtues—constancy in disaster, devotion to duty, -hopefulness in defeat—no man ever possessed a larger share. He arrived, -through a series of reverses, at a perfect victory. He planted a free -commonwealth under the very battery of the Inquisition, in defiance of -the most powerful empire existing. He was, therefore, a conqueror in the -loftiest sense, for he conquered liberty and a national existence for a -whole people. The contest was long, and he fell in the struggle, but the -victory was to the dead hero, not to the living monarch.</p> - -<p>It is to be remembered, too, that he always wrought with inferior -instruments. His troops were usually mercenaries, who were but too apt -to mutiny upon the eve of battle, while he was opposed by the most -formidable veterans of Europe, commanded successively by the first -captains of the age. That, with no lieutenant of eminent valor or -experience save only his brother Louis, and with none at all after that -chieftain’s death, William of Orange should succeed in baffling the -efforts of Alva, Requescens, Don John of Austria, and Alexander -Farnese—men whose names are among the most brilliant in the military -annals of the world—is in itself sufficient evidence of his warlike -capacity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_252" id="page_252">{252}</a></span> At the period of his death, he had reduced the number of -obedient provinces to two—only Artois and Hainault acknowledging -Philip—while the other fifteen were in open revolt, the greater part -having solemnly forsworn their sovereign.</p> - -<p>The supremacy of his political genius was entirely beyond question. He -was the first statesman of the age. The quickness of his perception was -only equaled by the caution which enabled him to mature the results of -his observations. His knowledge of human nature was profound. He -governed the passions and sentiments of a great nation as if they had -been but the keys and chords of one vast instrument; and his hand rarely -failed to evoke harmony even out of the wildest storms. The turbulent -city of Ghent, which could obey no other master, which even the haughty -emperor could only crush without controlling, was ever responsive to the -master-hand of Orange. His presence scared away Imbize and his bat-like -crew, confounded the schemes of John Casimir, frustrated the wiles of -Prince Chimay, and while he lived, Ghent was what it ought always to -have remained, the bulwark, as it had been the cradle, of popular -liberty. After his death it became its tomb.</p> - -<p>Ghent, saved twice by the policy, the eloquence, the self-sacrifices of -Orange, fell within three months of his murder into the hands of Parma. -The loss of this most important city, followed in the next year by the -downfall of Antwerp, sealed the fate of the southern Netherlands. Had -the prince lived, how different might have been the country’s fate! If -seven provinces could dilate, in so brief a space, into the powerful -commonwealth which the republic soon became, what might not have been -achieved by the united seventeen—a confederacy which would have united -the adamantine vigor of the Batavian and Frisian races with the subtler, -more delicate, and more graceful national elements in which the genius -of the Frank, the Roman, and the Romanized Celt were so intimately -blended. As long as<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_253" id="page_253">{253}</a></span> the father of the country lived, such a union was -possible. His power of managing men was so unquestionable that there was -always a hope, even in the darkest hour; for men felt implicit reliance -as well on his intellectual resources as on his integrity.</p> - -<p>This power of dealing with his fellow-men he manifested in the various -ways in which it has been usually exhibited by statesmen. He possessed a -ready eloquence—sometimes impassioned, oftener argumentative, always -rational. His influence over his audience was unexampled in the annals -of that country or age; yet he never condescended to flatter the people. -He never followed the nation, but always led her in the path of duty and -of honor, and was much more prone to rebuke the vices than to pander to -the passions of his hearers. He never failed to administer ample -chastisement to parsimony, to jealousy, to insubordination, to -intolerance, to infidelity, wherever it was due, nor feared to confront -the states or the people in their most angry hours, and to tell them the -truth to their faces. This commanding position he alone could stand -upon, for his countrymen knew the generosity which had sacrificed his -all for them, the self-denial which had eluded rather than sought -political advancement, whether from king or people, and the untiring -devotion which had consecrated a whole life to toil and danger in the -cause of their emancipation.</p> - -<p>While, therefore, he was ever ready to rebuke, and always too honest to -flatter, he at the same time possessed the eloquence which could -convince or persuade. He knew how to reach both the mind and the heart -of his hearers. His orations, whether extemporaneous or prepared; his -written messages to the states-general, to the provincial authorities, -to the municipal bodies; his private correspondence with men of all -ranks, from emperors and kings down to secretaries, and even children, -all show an easy flow of language, a fullness of thought, a power of -expression rare in that age, a fund of historical allusion, a -considerable power of imagi<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_254" id="page_254">{254}</a></span>nation, a warmth of sentiment, a breadth of -view, a directness of purpose, a range of qualities, in short, which -would in themselves have stamped him as one of the master-minds of his -century, had there been no other monument to his memory than the remains -of his spoken or written eloquence.</p> - -<p>The bulk of his performances in this department was prodigious. Not even -Philip was more industrious in the cabinet. Not even Granvelle held a -more facile pen. He wrote and spoke equally well in French, German, or -Flemish; and he possessed, besides, Spanish, Italian, Latin. The weight -of his correspondence alone would have almost sufficed for the common -industry of a lifetime; and although many volumes of his speeches and -letters have been published, there remain in the various archives of the -Netherlands and Germany many documents from his hand which will probably -never see the light. If the capacity for unremitted intellectual labor -in an honorable cause be the measure of human greatness, few minds could -be compared to the “large composition” of this man. The efforts made to -destroy the Netherlands by the most laborious and painstaking of tyrants -were counteracted by the industry of the most indefatigable of patriots.</p> - -<p>He went through life bearing the load of a people’s sorrows upon his -shoulders with a smiling face. Their name was the last word upon his -lips, save the simple affirmative, with which the soldier who had been -battling for the right all his lifetime commended his soul in dying “to -his great captain, Christ.” The people were grateful and affectionate, -for they trusted the character of their “Father Wiliam,” and not all the -clouds which calumny could collect ever dimmed to their eyes the -radiance of that lofty mind to which they were accustomed, in their -darkest calamities, to look for light. As long as he lived he was the -guiding star of a whole brave nation, and when he died the little -children cried in the streets.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_255" id="page_255">{255}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="JOHN_KNOX" id="JOHN_KNOX"></a>JOHN KNOX.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[The greatest of the Scotch religious reformers, born in 1505, died -1572, distinguished for a stern fanaticism as intolerant as that of -the Roman Church, against which he battled. He had suffered -bitterly from persecution during his earlier life, and for -lengthened periods been an exile from Scotland, but remained always -the head and front of the new propaganda till the establishment of -the Reformed religion in 1560, which carried with it the -interdiction of Roman Catholicism. On the arrival of the young -queen Mary Stuart from France, in 1561, Knox soon became the -sharpest critic of her life and policy. His unsparing antagonism -and influence with the Protestant lords did much to make Mary’s -position a very difficult one, and to precipitate the events which -finally drove her from Scotland and made her an English prisoner. -Knox was known to have been an ardent advocate of Mary’s death long -prior to the queen’s execution at Fotheringay.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Our</span> primary characteristic of a hero, that he is sincere, applies -emphatically to Knox. It is not denied anywhere that this, whatever -might be his other qualities or faults, is among the truest of men. With -a singular instinct he holds to the truth and fact; the truth alone is -there for him, the rest a mere shadow and a deceptive nonentity. However -feeble, forlorn the reality may seem, on that and that only <i>can</i> he -take his stand. In the galleys of the river Loire—whither Knox and the -others, after their castle of St. Andrews was taken, had been sent as -galley-slaves—some officer or priest one day presented them an image of -the Virgin Mother, requiring that they, the blasphemous heretics, should -do it reverence. “Mother? Mother of God?” said Knox, when the turn came -to him: “This is no Mother of God; this is a <i>pented bredd</i>—a piece of -wood, I tell you, with paint on it! She is fitter for swimming, I think, -than for being worshiped,” added Knox, and flung the thing into the -river. It was not very cheap jesting there; but come of it what might, -this thing to Knox was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_256" id="page_256">{256}</a></span> and must continue nothing other than the real -truth; it was a <i>pented bredd</i>: worship it he would not.</p> - -<p>He told his fellow-prisoners, in this darkest time, to be of courage; -the cause they had was a true one, and must and would prosper; the whole -world could not put it down. Reality is of God’s making; it is alone -strong. How many <i>pented bredds</i>, pretending to be real, are fitter to -swim than to be worshiped! This Knox can not live but by fact: he clings -to reality as the shipwrecked sailor to the cliff. He is an instance to -us how a man by sincerity itself becomes heroic; it is the grand gift he -has. We find in Knox a good, honest, intellectual talent, no -transcendent one; a narrow, inconsiderable man as compared with Luther, -but in heartfelt, instinctive adherence to truth, in <i>sincerity</i>, as we -say, he has no superior; nay, one might ask, What equal he has? The -heart of him is of the true prophet cast. “He lies there,” said the Earl -of Morton at his grave, “who never feared the face of man.” He -resembles, more than any of the moderns, an old Hebrew prophet. The same -inflexibility, intolerance, rigid, narrow-looking adherence to God’s -truth, stern rebuke in the name of God to all that forsake truth; an old -Hebrew prophet in the guise of an Edinburgh minister of the sixteenth -century. We are to take him for that; not require him to be other.</p> - -<p>Knox’s conduct to Queen Mary, the harsh visits he used to make in her -own palace to reprove her there, have been much commented upon. Such -cruelty, such coarseness fill us with indifference. On reading the -actual narrative of the business, what Knox said and what Knox meant, I -must say one’s tragic feeling is rather disappointed. They are not so -coarse, these speeches; they seem to me about as fine as the -circumstances would permit. Knox was not there to do the courtier; he -came on another errand. Whoever, reading these colloquies of his with -the queen, thinks they are vulgar insolences of a plebeian priest to a -delicate high lady, mistakes the purport and essence of them -alto<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_257" id="page_257">{257}</a></span>gether. It was unfortunately not possible to be polite with the -Queen of Scotland, unless one proved untrue to the nation and cause of -Scotland.</p> - -<p>A man who did not wish to see the land of his birth made a hunting-field -for intriguing, ambitious Guises, and the cause of God trampled under -foot of falsehoods, formulas, and the devil’s cause, had no method of -making himself agreeable. “Better that women weep,” said Morton, “than -that bearded men be forced to weep.” Knox was the constitutional -opposition party in Scotland; the nobles of the country, called by their -station to take that post, were not found in it; Knox had to go, or no -one. The hapless queen—but still the more hapless country, if <i>she</i> -were made happy! Mary herself was not without sharpness enough, among -her other qualities. “Who are you,” said she once, “that presume to -school the nobles and sovereign of this realm?” “Madam, a subject born -within the same,” answered he. Reasonably answered! If the “subject” -have truth to speak, it is not the “subject’s” footing that will fail -him here.</p> - -<p>We blame Knox for his intolerance. Well, surely it is good that each of -us be as tolerant as possible. Yet, at bottom, after all the talk there -is and has been about it, what is tolerance? Tolerance is to tolerate -the unessential, and to see well what that is. Tolerance has to be -noble, measured, just in its very wrath, when it can tolerate no longer. -But, on the whole, we are not altogether here to tolerate. We are here -to resist, to control, and vanquish withal. We do not “tolerate” -falsehoods, thieveries, iniquities, when they fasten on us; we say to -them, Thou art false! thou art not tolerable! We are here to extinguish -falsehoods, and to put an end to them in some wise way. I will not -quarrel so much with the way; the doing of the thing is our great -concern. In this sense Knox was, full surely, intolerant.</p> - -<p>A man sent to row in the French galleys, and such like,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_258" id="page_258">{258}</a></span> for teaching -the truth in his own land, can not always be in the mildest humor. I am -not prepared to say that Knox had a soft temper, nor do I know that he -had what we call an ill temper. An ill nature he decidedly had not. -Kind, honest affections dwell in the much-enduring, hard-worn, -ever-battling man. That he <i>could</i> rebuke queens, and had such weight -among those proud, turbulent nobles—proud enough, whatever else they -were—and could maintain to the end a kind of virtual presidency and -sovereignty over that wild realm, he who was only “a subject born within -the same”; this of itself will prove to us that he was found, close at -hand, to be no mean, acrid man, but at heart a healthful, strong, -sagacious man. Such alone can bear rule in that kind. They blame him for -pulling down cathedrals, and so forth, as if he were a seditious, -rioting demagogue; precisely the reverse is seen to be the fact in -regard to cathedrals and the rest of it, if we examine. Knox wanted no -pulling down of stone edifices; he wanted leprosy and darkness thrown -out of the lives of men. Tumult was not his element. It was the tragic -feature of his life that he was forced to dwell so much in that. Every -such man is the born enemy of disorder—hates to be in it; but what -then? Smooth falsehood is not order. It is the general sum-total of -<i>dis</i>order. Order is <i>truth</i>—each thing standing on the basis that -belongs to it. Order and falsehood can not subsist together.</p> - -<p>Withal, unexpectedly enough, this Knox has a vein of drollery in him, -which I like much, in combination with his other qualities. He has a -true eye for the ridiculous. His history, with its rough earnestness, is -curiously enlivened with this. When the two prelates, entering Glasgow -Cathedral, quarrel about precedence, march rapidly up, take to hustling -one another, twitching one another’s rochets, and at last flourishing -their crosiers like quarter-staves, it is a great sight for him every -way. Not mockery, scorn, bitterness alone, though there is enough of -that too; but a true, loving, illuminating laugh mounts up over the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_259" id="page_259">{259}</a></span> -earnest visage; not a loud laugh; you would say a laugh in the <i>eyes</i> -most of all. An honest-hearted, brotherly man; brother to the high, -brother also to the low; sincere in his sympathy with both. He had his -pipe of Bordeaux too, we find, in that old Edinburgh house of his—a -cheery, social man, with faces that loved him. They go far wrong who -think this Knox was a gloomy, spasmodic, shrieking fanatic. Not at all; -he is one of the solidest of men. Practical, cautious, hopeful, patient; -a most shrewd, observing, quietly discerning man. In fact, he has very -much the type of character we assign to the Scotch at present. A certain -sardonic taciturnity is in him; insight enough, and a stouter heart than -he himself knows of. He has the power of holding his peace over many -things which do not vitally concern him—“They, what are they?” But the -thing which does vitally concern him, that thing he will speak of, and -in a tone the whole world shall be made to hear, all the more emphatic -for his long silence.</p> - -<p>This prophet of the Scotch is to me no hateful man. He had a sore fight -of an existence; wrestling with popes and principalities; in defeat, -contention, life-long struggle; rowing as a galley-slave, wandering as -an exile. A sore fight; but he won it. “Have you hope?” they asked him -in his last moment, when he could no longer speak. He lifted his finger, -“pointed upward with his finger,” and so died. Honor to him. His works -have not died. The letter of his work dies, as of all men’s, but the -spirit of it never.</p> - -<h2><a name="DUKE_OF_ALVA" id="DUKE_OF_ALVA"></a>DUKE OF ALVA.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Ferdinando Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of Alva, a Spanish statesman -and general, born 1508, died 1582. From his earliest years a -soldier, the dominating passion of his soul was hatred of heretics -and infidels. He bore a distinguished part in the wars and -negotiations of Charles V’s splendid reign, and on the accession of -Philip II was equally<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_260" id="page_260">{260}</a></span> honored by that monarch. On the outbreak of -the rebellion in the Netherlands, Alva was sent thither with an -army, as viceroy. His six years of rule was one of the most bloody -and atrocious episodes in modern history. His great opponent was -the Prince of Orange. Utterly failing in stamping out the -rebellion, he was recalled by his master in 1573.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ferdinando Alvarez de Toledo</span>, Duke of Alva, was the most successful and -experienced general of Spain, or of Europe. No man studied more deeply, -or practiced more constantly the military science. In the most important -of all arts at that epoch, he was the most consummate artist. In the -only honorable profession of the age, he was the most thorough and the -most pedantic professor. Since the days of Demetrius Poliorcetes, no man -had besieged so many cities. Since the days of Fabius Cunctator, no -general had avoided so many battles, and no soldier, courageous as he -was, ever attained to a more sublime indifference to calumny or -depreciation. Having proved in his boyhood, at Fontarabia, and in his -maturity, at Mühlberg, that he could exhibit heroism and headlong -courage, when necessary, he could afford to look with contempt upon the -witless gibes which his enemies had occasionally perpetrated at his -expense. Conscious of holding his armies in his hand, by the power of an -unrivalled discipline, and the magic of a name illustrated by a hundred -triumphs, he could bear with patience and benevolence the murmurs of his -soldiers when their battles were denied them.</p> - -<p>He was born in 1508, of a family which boasted imperial descent. A -Palæologus, brother of a Byzantine emperor, had conquered the city of -Toledo, and transmitted its appellation as a family name. The father of -Ferdinando, Don Garcia, had been slain on the Isle of Gerbes, in battle -with the Moors, when his son was but four years of age. The child was -brought up by his grandfather, Don Frederic, and trained from his -tenderest infancy to arms. Hatred to the infidel, and a determination to -avenge his father’s blood<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_261" id="page_261">{261}</a></span> crying to him from a foreign grave, were the -earliest of his instincts. As a youth he was distinguished for his -prowess. His maiden sword was fleshed at Fontarabia, where, although but -sixteen years of age, he was considered by his constancy in hardship, by -his brilliant and desperate courage, and by the example of military -discipline which he afforded to the troops, to have contributed in no -small degree to the success of the Spanish arms.</p> - -<p>In 1530 he accompanied the emperor in his campaign against the Turks. -Charles, instinctively recognizing the merit of the youth who was -destined to be the life-long companion of his toils and glories, -distinguished him with his favor at the opening of his career. Young, -brave, and enthusiastic, Ferdinando de Toledo at this period was as -interesting a hero as ever illustrated the pages of Castilian romance. -His mad ride from Hungary to Spain and back again, accomplished in -seventeen days, for the sake of a brief visit to his newly-married wife, -is not the least attractive episode in the history of an existence which -was destined to be so dark and sanguinary. In 1535 he accompanied the -emperor on his memorable expedition to Tunis. In 1546 and 1547 he was -generalissimo in the war against the Smalcaldian league. His most -brilliant feat of arms—perhaps the most brilliant exploit of the -emperor’s reign—was the passage of the Elbe and the battle of Mühlberg, -accomplished in spite of Maximilian’s bitter and violent reproaches, and -the tremendous possibilities of a defeat. That battle had finished the -war.</p> - -<p>The gigantic and magnanimous John Frederic, surprised at his devotions -in the church, fled in dismay, leaving his boots behind him, which for -their superhuman size were ridiculously said afterward to be treasured -among the trophies of the Toledo house. The rout was total. “I came, I -saw, and God conquers,” said the emperor, in pious parody of his -immortal predecessor’s epigram. Maximilian, with a thousand apologies -for his previous insults, embraced the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_262" id="page_262">{262}</a></span> heroic Don Ferdinand over and -over again, as, arrayed in a plain suit of blue armor, unadorned save -with the streaks of his enemies’ blood, he returned from pursuit of the -fugitive. So complete and so sudden was the victory, that it was found -impossible to account for it save on the ground of miraculous -interposition. Like Joshua in the vale of Ajalon, Don Ferdinand was -supposed to have commanded the sun to stand still for a season, and to -have been obeyed. Otherwise, how could the passage of the river, which -was only concluded at six in the evening, and the complete overthrow of -the Protestant forces, have all been accomplished within the narrow -space of an April twilight?</p> - -<p>The reply of the duke to Henry II of France, who questioned him -subsequently upon the subject, is well known. “Your Majesty, I was too -much occupied that evening with what was taking place on the earth -beneath, to pay much heed to the evolutions of the heavenly bodies.” -Spared as he had been by his good fortune from taking any part in the -Algerine expedition, or in witnessing the ignominious retreat from -Innspruck, he was obliged to submit to the intercalation of the -disastrous siege of Metz in the long history of his successes. Doing the -duty of a field-marshal and a sentinel, supporting his army by his -firmness and his discipline when nothing else could have supported them, -he was at last enabled, after half the hundred thousand men with whom -Charles had begun the siege had been sacrificed, to induce his imperial -master to raise the siege before the remaining fifty thousand had been -frozen or starved to death.</p> - -<p>The culminating career of Alva seemed to have closed in the mist which -gathered around the setting star of the empire. Having accompanied -Philip to England in 1554, on his matrimonial expedition, he was -destined in the following year, as viceroy and generalissimo of Italy, -to be placed in a series of false positions. A great captain engaged in -a little war, the champion of the cross in arms against the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_263" id="page_263">{263}</a></span> successor -of St. Peter, he had extricated himself at last with his usual -adroitness, but with very little glory. To him had been allotted the -mortification, to another the triumph. The luster of his own name seemed -to sink in the ocean, while that of a hated rival, with new spangled -ore, suddenly “flamed in the forehead of the morning sky.” While he had -been paltering with a dotard, whom he was forbidden to crush, Egmont had -struck down the chosen troops of France and conquered her most -illustrious commanders. Here was the unpardonable crime which could only -be expiated by the blood of the victor. Unfortunately for his rival, the -time was now approaching when the long-deferred revenge was to be -satisfied.</p> - -<p>On the whole, the Duke of Alva was inferior to no general of his age. As -a disciplinarian, he was foremost in Spain, perhaps in Europe. A -spendthrift of time, he was an economist of blood, and this was, -perhaps, in the eyes of humanity, his principal virtue. “Time and myself -are two,” was a frequent observation of Philip, and his favorite general -considered the maxim as applicable to war as to politics. Such were his -qualities as a military commander. As a statesman, he had neither -experience nor talent. As a man, his character was simple. He did not -combine a great variety of vices, but those which he had were colossal, -and he possessed no virtues. He was neither lustful nor intemperate, but -his professed eulogists admitted his enormous avarice, while the world -has agreed that such an amount of stealth and ferocity, of patient -vindictiveness and universal bloodthirstiness, were never found in a -savage beast of the forest, and but rarely in a human bosom. His history -was now to show that his previous thrift of human life was not derived -from any love of his kind. Personally he was stern and overbearing. As -difficult of access as Philip himself, he was even more haughty to those -who were admitted to his presence.</p> - -<p>The duke’s military fame was unquestionable when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_264" id="page_264">{264}</a></span> came to the -provinces, and both in stricken fields and in long campaigns he showed -how thoroughly it had been deserved; yet he left the Netherlands a -baffled man. The prince might be many times defeated, but he was not -conquered. As Alva penetrated into the heart of the ancient Batavian -land, he found himself overmatched as he had never been before, even by -the most potent generals of his day. More audacious, more inventive, -more desperate than all the commanders of that or any other age, the -spirit of national freedom now taught the oppressor that it was -invincible, except by annihilation. The same lesson had been read in the -same thickets by the Nervii to Julius Cæsar, by the Batavians to the -legions of Vespasian; and now a loftier and a purer flame than that -which inspired the national struggles against Rome glowed within the -breasts of the descendants of the same people, and inspired them with -the strength which comes from religious enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>As an administrator of the civil and judicial affairs of the country, -Alva at once reduced its institutions to a frightful simplicity. In the -place of the ancient laws of which the Netherlander were so proud, he -substituted the Blood Council. This tribunal was even more arbitrary -than the Inquisition. Never was a simpler apparatus for tyranny devised -than this great labor-saving machine. Never was so great a quantity of -murder and robbery achieved with such dispatch and regularity. -Sentences, executions, and confiscations, to an incredible extent, were -turned out daily with an appalling precision. For this invention Alva is -alone responsible. The tribunal and its councilors were the work and the -creatures of his hand, and faithfully did they accomplish the dark -purpose of their existence. Nor can it be urged, in extenuation of the -governor’s crimes, that he was but the blind and fanatically loyal slave -of his sovereign.</p> - -<p>A noble nature could not have contaminated itself with such -slaughter-house work, but might have sought to miti<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_265" id="page_265">{265}</a></span>gate the royal -policy without forswearing allegiance. A nature less rigid than iron -would at least have manifested compunction, as it found itself converted -into a fleshless instrument of massacre. More decided than his master, -however, he seemed by his promptness to rebuke the dilatory genius of -Philip. The king seemed, at times, to loiter over his work, teasing and -tantalizing his appetite for vengeance before it should be gratified. -Alva, rapid and brutal, scorned such epicureanism. He strode with -gigantic steps over haughty statutes and popular constitutions; crushing -alike the magnates who claimed a bench of monarchs for their jury, and -the ignoble artisans who could appeal only to the laws of their land. -From the pompous and theatrical scaffolds of Egmont and Horn, to the -nineteen halters prepared by Master Karl to hang up the chief bakers and -brewers of Brussels on their own thresholds; from the beheading of the -twenty nobles on the horse-market, in the opening of the governor’s -career, to the roasting alive of Uitenhoove at its close; from the block -on which fell the honored head of Antony Straalen, to the obscure chair -in which the ancient gentlewoman of Amsterdam suffered death for an act -of vicarious mercy; from one year’s end to another’s—from the most -signal to the most squalid scenes of sacrifice, the eye and hand of the -great master directed without weariness the task imposed by the -sovereign.</p> - -<h2><a name="QUEEN_ELIZABETH" id="QUEEN_ELIZABETH"></a>QUEEN ELIZABETH.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, second queen-regnant of -England, born 1533, crowned 1558, died 1603. As princess during the -reign of her sister, Queen Mary, she was subjected to many perils -on account of her devotion to Protestantism. Shortly after her -accession to the throne she was declared illegitimate by the pope -and the Catholic kings of Europe, and a claim of the English -succession set<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_266" id="page_266">{266}</a></span> up for Mary, Queen of Scots. Threatened on all -sides, Queen Elizabeth bore herself with consummate skill and -prudence, and even managed to make herself felt aggressively in -continental affairs. The more striking events of her reign were the -defeat of the great Spanish Armada, probably the most brilliant and -complete sea-victory recorded in history, and the execution of -Mary, Queen of Scots, her rival and captive. Queen Elizabeth’s -reign shines as probably the most remarkable known for its -intellectual flowering in every branch of human energy.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">England’s</span> one hope lay in the character of her queen. Elizabeth was now -in her twenty-fifth year. Personally she had more than her mother’s -beauty; her figure was commanding, her face long but queenly and -intelligent, her eyes quick and fine. She had grown up amid the liberal -culture of Henry’s court a bold horsewoman, a good shot, a graceful -dancer, a skilled musician, and an accomplished scholar. She studied -every morning the Greek Testament, and followed this by the tragedies of -Sophocles or orations of Demosthenes, and could “rub up her rusty Greek” -at need to bandy pedantry with a vice-chancellor. But she was far from -being a mere pedant. The new literature which was springing up around -her found constant welcome in her court. She spoke Italian and French as -fluently as her mother-tongue. She was familiar with Ariosto and Tasso. -Even amid the affectation and love of anagrams and puerilities which -sullied her later years, she listened with delight to the “Faery Queen,” -and found a smile for “Master Spenser” when he appeared in her presence. -Her moral temper recalled in its strange contrasts the mixed blood -within her veins.</p> - -<p>She was at once the daughter of Henry and of Anne Boleyn. From her -father she inherited her frank and hearty address, her love of -popularity and of free intercourse with the people, her dauntless -courage, and her amazing self-confidence. Her harsh, manlike voice, her -impetuous will, her pride, her furious outbursts of anger, came to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_267" id="page_267">{267}</a></span> -with her Tudor blood. She rated great nobles as if they were -school-boys; she met the insolence of Essex with a box on the ear; she -would break now and then into the gravest deliberations to swear at her -ministers like a fish-wife. But strangely in contrast with the violent -outlines of her Tudor temper stood the sensuous, self-indulgent nature -she derived from Anne Boleyn. Splendor and pleasure were with Elizabeth -the very air she breathed. Her delight was to move in perpetual -progresses from castle to castle through a series of gorgeous pageants, -fanciful and extravagant as a caliph’s dream. She loved gayety and -laughter and wit. A happy retort or a finished compliment never failed -to win her favor. She hoarded jewels. Her dresses were innumerable. Her -vanity remained, even to old age, the vanity of a coquette in her teens. -No adulation was too fulsome for her, no flattery of her beauty too -gross. “To see her was heaven,” Hatton told her, “the lack of her was -hell.” She would play with her rings that her courtiers might note the -delicacy of her hands; or dance a coranto that the French ambassador, -hidden dexterously behind a curtain, might report her sprightliness to -his master. Her levity, her frivolous laughter, her unwomanly jests, -gave color to a thousand scandals. Her character, in fact, like her -portraits, was utterly without shade. Of womanly reserve or -self-restraint she knew nothing. No instinct of delicacy veiled the -voluptuous temper which had broken out in the romps of her girlhood and -showed itself almost ostentatiously throughout her later life. Personal -beauty in a man was a sure passport to her liking. She patted handsome -young squires on the neck when they knelt to kiss her hand, and fondled -her “sweet Robin,” Lord Leicester, in the face of the court.</p> - -<p>It was no wonder that the statesmen whom she outwitted held Elizabeth -almost to the last to be little more than a frivolous woman, or that -Philip of Spain wondered how “a wanton” could hold in check the policy -of the Escurial.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_268" id="page_268">{268}</a></span> But the Elizabeth whom they saw was far from being all -of Elizabeth. The willfulness of Henry, the triviality of Anne Boleyn, -played over the surface of a nature hard as steel, a temper purely -intellectual, the very type of reason untouched by imagination or -passion. Luxurious and pleasure-loving as she seemed, Elizabeth lived -simply and frugally, and she worked hard. Her vanity and caprice had no -weight whatever with her in state affairs. The coquette of the -presence-chamber became the coolest and hardest of politicians at the -council-board. Fresh from the flattery of her courtiers, she would -tolerate no flattery in the closet; she was herself plain and downright -of speech with her counselors, and she looked for a corresponding -plainness of speech in return. If any trace of her sex lingered in her -actual statesmanship, it was seen in the simplicity and tenacity of -purpose that often underlies a woman’s fluctuations of feeling.</p> - -<p>It was this, in part, which gave her her marked superiority over the -statesmen of her time. No nobler group of ministers ever gathered round -a council-board than those who gathered round the council-board of -Elizabeth. But she was the instrument of none. She listened, she -weighed, she used or put by the counsels of each in turn, but her policy -as a whole was her own. It was a policy not of genius but of good sense. -Her aims were simple and obvious: to preserve her throne, to keep -England out of war, to restore civil and religious order. Something of -womanly caution and timidity, perhaps, backed the passionless -indifference with which she set aside the larger schemes of ambition -which were ever opening before her eyes. She was resolute in her refusal -of the Low Countries. She rejected with a laugh the offers of the -Protestants to make her “head of the religion” and “mistress of the -seas.” But her amazing success in the end sprang mainly from this wise -limitation of her aims. She had a finer sense than any of her counselors -of her real resources; she knew instinctively how far she could go and -what she could do. Her cold,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_269" id="page_269">{269}</a></span> critical intellect was never swayed by -enthusiasm or by panic either to exaggerate or to underestimate her -risks or her power.</p> - -<p>Of political wisdom, indeed, in its larger and more generous sense -Elizabeth had little or none; but her political tact was unerring. She -seldom saw her course at a glance, but she played with a hundred -courses, fitfully and discursively, as a musician runs his fingers over -the key-board, till she hit suddenly upon the right one. Her nature was -essentially practical and of the present. She distrusted a plan, in -fact, just in proportion to its speculative range or its outlook into -the future. Her notion of statesmanship lay in watching how things -turned out around her, and in seizing the moment for making the best of -them. A policy of this limited, practical, tentative order was not only -best suited to the England of her day, to its small resources and the -transitional character of its religious and political belief, but it was -one eminently suited to Elizabeth’s peculiar powers. It was a policy of -detail, and in details her wonderful readiness and ingenuity found scope -for their exercise. “No war, my lords,” the queen used to cry -imperiously at the council-board, “No war!” but her hatred of war sprang -less from her aversion to blood or to expense, real as was her aversion -to both, than from the fact that peace left the field open to the -diplomatic manœuvres and intrigues in which she excelled. Her delight in -the consciousness of her ingenuity broke out in a thousand puckish -freaks—freaks in which one can hardly see any purpose beyond the -purpose of sheer mystification. She reveled in “by-ways” and “crooked -ways.” She played with grave cabinets as a cat plays with a mouse, and -with much of the same feline delight in the mere embarrassment of her -victims. When she was weary of mystifying foreign statesmen, she turned -to find fresh sport in mystifying her own ministers.</p> - -<p>Had Elizabeth written the story of her reign, she would have prided -herself not on the triumph of England or the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_270" id="page_270">{270}</a></span> ruin of Spain, but on the -skill with which she had hoodwinked and outwitted every statesman in -Europe during fifty years. Nor was her trickery without political value. -Ignoble, inexpressibly wearisome as the queen’s diplomacy seems to us -now, tracing it as we do through a thousand dispatches, it succeeded in -its main end. It gained time, and every year that was gained doubled -Elizabeth’s strength. Nothing is more revolting in the queen, but -nothing is more characteristic than her shameless mendacity. It was an -age of political lying, but in the profusion and recklessness of her -lies Elizabeth stood without a peer in Christendom. A falsehood was to -her simply an intellectual means of meeting a difficulty; and the ease -with which she asserted or denied whatever suited her purpose, was only -equaled by the cynical indifference with which she met the exposure of -her lies as soon as their purpose was answered. The same purely -intellectual view of things showed itself in the dexterous use she made -of her very faults. Her levity carried her gayly over moments of -detection and embarrassment where better women would have died of shame. -She screened her tentative and hesitating statesmanship under the -natural timidity and vacillation of her sex. She turned her very luxury -and sports to good account. There were moments of grave danger in her -reign, when the country remained indifferent to its perils, as it saw -the queen give her days to hawking and hunting and her nights to dancing -and plays. Her vanity and affectation, her womanly fickleness and -caprice, all had their part in the diplomatic comedies she played with -the successive candidates for her hand. If political necessities made -her life a lonely one, she had at any rate the satisfaction of averting -war and conspiracies by love-sonnets and romantic interviews, or of -gaining a year of tranquillity by the dexterous spinning out of a -flirtation.</p> - -<p>As we track Elizabeth through her tortuous mazes of lying and intrigue, -the sense of her greatness is almost lost<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_271" id="page_271">{271}</a></span> in a sense of contempt. But, -wrapped as they were in a cloud of mystery, the aims of her policy were -throughout temperate and simple, and they were pursued with a singular -tenacity. The sudden acts of energy which from time to time broke her -habitual hesitation proved that it was no hesitation of weakness. -Elizabeth could wait and finesse; but when the hour was come she could -strike, and strike hard. Her natural temper indeed tended to a rash -self-confidence rather than to self-distrust. She had, as strong natures -always have, an unbounded confidence in her luck. “Her Majesty counts -much on Fortune,” Walsingham wrote bitterly; “I wish she would trust -more in Almighty God.” The diplomatists who censured at one moment her -irresolution, her delay, her changes of front, censure at the next her -“obstinacy,” her iron will, her defiance of what seemed to them -inevitable ruin. “This woman,” Philip’s envoy wrote after a wasted -remonstrance, “this woman is possessed by a hundred thousand devils.”</p> - -<p>To her own subjects, indeed, who knew nothing of her manœuvres and -retreats, of her “by-ways” and “crooked ways,” she seemed the embodiment -of dauntless resolution. Brave as they were, the men who swept the -Spanish main or glided between the icebergs of Baffin Bay never doubted -that the palm of bravery lay with their queen. Her steadiness and -courage in the pursuit of her aims was equaled by the wisdom with which -she chose the men to accomplish them. She had a quick eye for merit of -any sort, and a wonderful power of enlisting its whole energy in her -service. The sagacity which chose Cecil and Walsingham was just as -unerring in its choice of the meanest of her agents. Her success, -indeed, in securing from the beginning of her reign to its end, with the -single exception of Leicester, precisely the right men for the work she -set them to do, sprang in great measure from the noblest characteristic -of her intellect. If in loftiness of aim her temper fell below many of -the tempers of her time, in the breadth of its range, in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_272" id="page_272">{272}</a></span> -universality of its sympathy, it stood far above them all. Elizabeth -could talk poetry with Spenser and philosophy with Bruno; she could -discuss euphuism with Lyly, and enjoy the chivalry of Essex; she could -turn from talk of the last fashions to pore with Cecil over dispatches -and treasury books; she could pass from tracking traitors with -Walsingham to settle points of doctrine with Parker, or to calculate -with Frobisher the chances of a northwest passage to the Indies. The -versatility and many-sidedness of her mind enabled her to understand -every phase of the intellectual movement of her day, and to fix by a -sort of instinct on its higher representatives. But the greatness of the -queen rests above all on her power over her people.</p> - -<p>We have had grander and nobler rulers, but none so popular as Elizabeth. -The passion of love, of loyalty, of admiration, which finds its most -perfect expression in the “Faery Queen,” throbbed as intensely through -the veins of her meanest subjects. To England, during her reign of half -a century, she was a virgin and a Protestant queen; and her immorality, -her absolute want of religious enthusiasm, failed utterly to blur the -brightness of the national idea. Her worst acts broke fruitlessly -against the general devotion. A Puritan, whose hand she cut off in a -freak of tyrannous resentment, waved his hat with the hand that was -left, and shouted, “God save Queen Elizabeth!” Of her faults, indeed, -England beyond the circle of her court knew little or nothing. The -shiftings of her diplomacy were never seen outside the royal closet. The -nation at large could only judge her foreign policy by its main -outlines, by its temperance and good sense, and above all by its -success. But every Englishman was able to judge Elizabeth in her rule at -home, in her love of peace, her instinct of order, the firmness and -moderation of her government, the judicious spirit of conciliation and -compromise among warring factions, which gave the country an unexampled -tranquillity at a time when almost every other country in Europe was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_273" id="page_273">{273}</a></span> -torn with civil war. Every sign of the growing prosperity, the sight of -London as it became the mart of the world, of stately mansions as they -rose on every manor, told, and justly told, in Elizabeth’s favor.</p> - -<p>In one act of her civil administration she showed the boldness and -originality of a great ruler; for the opening of her reign saw her face -the social difficulty which had so long impeded English progress, by the -issue of a commission of inquiry which ended in the solution of the -problem by the system of poor-laws. She lent a ready patronage to the -new commerce; she considered its extension and protection as a part of -public policy, and her statue in the center of the London Exchange was a -tribute on the part of the merchant class to the interest with which she -watched and shared personally in its enterprises. Her thrift won a -general gratitude. The memories of the Terror and of the martyrs threw -into bright relief the aversion from bloodshed which was conspicuous in -her earlier reign, and never wholly wanting through its fiercer close. -Above all, there was a general confidence in her instinctive knowledge -of the national temper. Her finger was always on the public pulse. She -knew exactly when she could resist the feeling of her people, and when -she must give way before the new sentiment of freedom which her policy -unconsciously fostered. But when she retreated, her defeat had all the -grace of victory; and the frankness and unreserve of her surrender won -back at once the love that her resistance had lost. Her attitude at -home, in fact, was that of a woman whose pride in the well-being of her -subjects, and whose longing for their favor, was the one warm touch in -the coldness of her natural temper. If Elizabeth could be said to love -anything, she loved England. “Nothing,” she said to her first Parliament -in words of unwonted fire, “nothing, no worldly thing under the sun, is -so dear to me as the love and good-will of my subjects.” And the love -and good-will which were so dear to her she fully won.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_274" id="page_274">{274}</a></span></p> - -<p>She clung, perhaps, to her popularity the more passionately that it hid -in some measure from her the terrible loneliness of her life. She was -the last of the Tudors, the last of Henry’s children; and her nearest -relatives were Mary Stuart and the house of Suffolk, one the avowed, the -other the secret, claimant of her throne. Among her mother’s kindred she -found but a single cousin. Whatever womanly tenderness she had, wrapped -itself around Leicester; but a marriage with Leicester was impossible, -and every other union, could she even have bent to one, was denied to -her by the political difficulties of her position. The one cry of -bitterness which burst from Elizabeth revealed her terrible sense of the -solitude of her life. “The Queen of Scots,” she cried at the birth of -James, “has a fair son, and I am but a barren stock.” But the loneliness -of her position only reflected the loneliness of her nature. She stood -utterly apart from the world around her, sometimes above it, sometimes -below it, but never of it. It was only on its intellectual side that -Elizabeth touched the England of her day. All its moral aspects were -simply dead to her.</p> - -<p>It was a time when men were being lifted into nobleness by the new moral -energy which seemed suddenly to pulse through the whole people, when -honor and enthusiasm took colors of poetic beauty, and religion became a -chivalry. But the finer sentiments of the men around her touched -Elizabeth simply as the fair tints of a picture would have touched her. -She made her market with equal indifference out of the heroism of -William of Orange or the bigotry of Philip. The noblest aims and lives -were only counters on her board. She was the one soul in her realm whom -the news of St. Bartholomew stirred to no thirst for vengeance; and -while England was thrilling with its triumph over the Armada, its queen -was coolly grumbling over the cost, and making her profit out of the -spoiled provisions she had ordered for the fleet that saved her. To the -voice of gratitude, indeed, she was for the most part deaf. She accepted -services such<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_275" id="page_275">{275}</a></span> as were never rendered to any other English sovereign -without a thought of return. Walsingham spent his fortune in saving her -life and throne, and she left him to die a beggar.</p> - -<p>But, as if by a strange irony, it was to this very want of sympathy that -she owed some of the grander features of her character. If she was -without love, she was without hate. She cherished no petty resentments; -she never stooped to envy or suspicion of the men who served her. She -was indifferent to abuse. Her good-humor was never ruffled by the -charges of wantonness and cruelty with which the Jesuits filled every -court in Europe. She was insensible to fear. Her life became at last the -mark for assassin after assassin, but the thought of peril was the one -hardest to bring home to her. Even when the Catholic plots broke out in -her very household, she would listen to no proposals for the removal of -Catholics from her court.</p> - -<h2><a name="MARY_STUART_QUEEN_OF_SCOTS" id="MARY_STUART_QUEEN_OF_SCOTS"></a>MARY STUART, QUEEN OF SCOTS.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By DAVID HUME.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Daughter of James V of Scotland and Mary of Lorraine, a princess -of the Guise family of France, born 1542, died 1587. As -great-granddaughter of Henry VII of England, Mary was heir to the -English throne after the failure of direct descendants of Henry -VIII, the last of whom was Queen Elizabeth. At the age of sixteen -she was married to the dauphin of France; and, as she was put -forward as claimant of the English throne (even as against -Elizabeth, whom the Catholic powers of Europe affected to treat as -the illegitimate daughter of Henry VIII), the arms of England were -quartered with those of France and Scotland on her escutcheon. -Mary’s persistence in protruding this claim, under advice of her -Catholic friends, was a main cause of the misfortunes of her sad -and romantic career. On the death of Mary’s husband, Francis II of -France, she returned to Scotland to resume the functions of -government, thoroughly imbued with Catholic and French notions of -policy, and already antagonistic to a large portion of her -subjects, who had become fanatically Protestant under the -leadership of such men as John Knox. Henceforward the Queen of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_276" id="page_276">{276}</a></span> -Scots was embarked on a sea of troubles, which are familiar -history. She married Lord Darnley in 1565, against the wish of her -own Protestant subjects and of Queen Elizabeth; and on the murder -of Darnley by the Earl of Bothwell, she consummated her follies by -espousing the latter. The rebellion which ensued resulted first in -her imprisonment by her own subjects, and afterward, consequent on -her escape and defeat in battle by the Protestant lords, her -confinement by the Queen of England, on whom she had thrown herself -for protection. For nineteen years Mary was the inmate of -successive English prisons, though not rigorously treated -otherwise. The numerous conspiracies in which she was implicated by -the enthusiasm of her supporters in England and France, some of -which involved the assassination of Elizabeth, and all of which -looked to the complete overthrow of Protestantism, at last caused -her trial and condemnation by an English commission. The signature -to the death-warrant has been claimed by some historians to have -been a forgery; by others to have been genuine, but its commission -under the great seal an act without Elizabeth’s consent. But the -weight of evidence shows Elizabeth’s conduct to have been a piece -of consummate duplicity, and that she manœuvred to receive the -benefits of Mary’s death without incurring the odium of its -authority. There is no personage in history whose character has -been the subject of more controversy. A school of English -historical critics, among whom are Carlyle, Froude, and Kingsley, -stigmatize her as the incarnation of all that was brilliantly -wicked; while others, equally distinguished, soften her errors and -eulogize her virtues as the victim of circumstances, and one “far -more sinned against than sinning.”]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Her</span> change of abode and situation was very little agreeable to the -Scottish princess. Besides her natural preposessions in favor of a -country in which she had been educated from her earliest infancy, and -where she had borne so high a rank, she could not forbear both -regretting the society of that people, so celebrated for their humane -disposition and their respectful attachment to their sovereign, and -reflecting on the disparity of the scene which lay before her. It is -said that, after she was embarked at Calais, she kept her eyes fixed on -the coast of France, and never turned them from that beloved object till -darkness fell and intercepted it from her view. She then ordered a couch -to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_277" id="page_277">{277}</a></span> spread for her in the open air, and charged the pilot that if in -the morning the land were still in sight, he should awake her, and -afford her one parting view of that country in which all her affections -were centered. The weather proved calm, so that the ship made little way -in the night-time, and Mary had once more an opportunity of seeing the -French coast. She sat up on her couch, and, still looking toward the -land, often repeated these words: “Farewell, France, farewell; I shall -never see thee more.”</p> - -<p>The first aspect, however, of things in Scotland was more favorable, if -not to her pleasure and happiness, at least to her repose and security, -than she had reason to apprehend. No sooner did the French galleys -appear off Leith, than people of all ranks, who had long expected their -arrival, flocked toward the shore with an earnest impatience to behold -and receive their young sovereign. Some were led by duty, some by -interest, some by curiosity; and all combined to express their -attachment to her, and to insinuate themselves into her confidence on -the commencement of her administration. She had now reached her -nineteenth year, and the bloom of her youth and amiable beauty of her -person were further recommended by the affability of her address, the -politeness of her manners, and the elegance of her genius. Well -accomplished in all the superficial but engaging graces of a court, she -afforded, when better known, still more promising indications of her -character; and men prognosticated both humanity from her soft and -obliging deportment, and penetration from her taste in all the refined -arts of music, eloquence, and poetry. And as the Scots had long been -deprived of the presence of their sovereign, whom they once despaired -ever more to behold among them, her arrival seemed to give universal -satisfaction; and nothing appeared about the court but symptoms of -affection, joy, and festivity.</p> - -<p>But there was one circumstance which blasted all these promising -appearances, and bereaved Mary of that general<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_278" id="page_278">{278}</a></span> favor which her -agreeable manners and judicious deportment gave her just reason to -expect. She was still a papist; and though she published, soon after her -arrival, a proclamation enjoining every one to submit to the established -religion, the preachers and their adherents could neither be reconciled -to a person polluted with so great an abomination, nor lay aside their -jealousies of her future conduct. It was with great difficulty she could -obtain permission for saying mass in her own chapel; and had not the -people apprehended that, if she had here met with a refusal, she would -instantly have returned to France, the zealots never would have granted -her even that small indulgence. The cry was, “Shall we suffer that idol -to be again erected within the realm?”</p> - -<p>The whole life of Mary was, from the demeanor of these men, filled with -bitterness and sorrow. The rustic apostle John Knox scruples not, in his -history, to inform us that he once treated her with such severity that -she lost all command of temper, and dissolved in tears before him; yet, -so far from being moved with youth and beauty, and royal dignity reduced -to that condition, he persevered in his insolent reproofs; and when he -relates this incident, he discovers a visible pride and satisfaction in -his own conduct. The pulpits had become mere scenes of railing against -the vices of the court; among which were always noted, as the principal, -feasting, finery, dancing, balls, and whoredom, their necessary -attendant. Some ornaments which the ladies at that time wore upon their -petticoats, excited mightily the indignation of the preachers; and they -affirmed that such vanity would provoke God’s vengeance, not only -against these foolish women but against the whole realm.</p> - -<p>Mary, whose age, condition, and education invited her to liberty and -cheerfulness, was curbed in all amusements by the absurd severity of -these reformers; and she found, every moment, reason to regret her -leaving that country<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_279" id="page_279">{279}</a></span> from whose manners she had, in her early youth, -received the first impressions. Her two uncles, the Duke of Aumale and -the Grand Prior, with the other French nobility, soon took leave of her; -the Marquis of Elbeuf remained some time longer; but after his departure -she was left to the society of her own subjects—men unacquainted with -the pleasures of conversation, ignorant of arts and civility, and -corrupted beyond their usual rusticity by a dismal fanaticism, which -rendered them incapable of all humanity or improvement. Though Mary had -made no attempt to restore the ancient religion, her popery was a -sufficient crime; though her behavior was hitherto irreproachable, and -her manners sweet and engaging, her gayety and ease were interpreted as -signs of dissolute vanity; and to the harsh and preposterous usage which -this princess met with may in part be ascribed those errors of her -subsequent conduct, which seemed so little of a piece with the general -tenor of her character.</p> - -<p>Mary was a woman of great accomplishments both of body and mind, natural -as well as acquired, but unfortunate in her life, and during one period -very unhappy in her conduct. The beauties of her person and graces of -her air combined to make her the most amiable of women; and the charms -of her address and conversation aided the impression which her lovely -figure made on the hearts of all beholders. Ambitious and active in her -temper, yet inclined to cheerfulness and society; of a lofty spirit, -constant and even vehement in her purpose, yet polite, and gentle, and -affable in her demeanor, she seemed to partake only so much of the male -virtues as to render her estimable, without relinquishing those soft -graces which compose the proper ornament of her sex.</p> - -<p>In order to form a just idea of her character, we must set aside one -part of her conduct, while she abandoned herself to the guidance of a -profligate man, and must consider these faults, whether we admit them to -be imprudences or<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_280" id="page_280">{280}</a></span> crimes, as the result of an inexplicable though not -uncommon inconstancy in the human mind, of the frailty of our nature, of -the violence of passion, and of the influence which situations, and -sometimes momentary incidents, have on persons whose principles are not -thoroughly confirmed by experience and reflection. Enraged by the -ungrateful conduct of her husband, seduced by the treacherous counsels -of one in whom she reposed confidence, transported by the violence of -her own temper, which never lay sufficiently under the guidance of -discretion, she was betrayed into actions which may with some difficulty -be accounted for, but which admit of no apology, nor even of -alleviation. An enumeration of her qualities might carry the appearance -of a panegyric; an account of her conduct must in some parts wear the -aspect of severe satire and invective.</p> - -<p>Her numerous misfortunes, the solitude of her long and tedious -captivity, and the persecutions to which she had been exposed on account -of her religion, had wrought her up to a degree of bigotry during her -later years; and such were the prevalent spirit and principles of the -age, that it is the less wonder if her zeal, her resentment, and her -interest uniting, induced her to give consent to a design which -conspirators, actuated only by the first of these motives, had formed -against the life of Elizabeth.</p> - -<h2><a name="JOHN_PYM" id="JOHN_PYM"></a>JOHN PYM.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born 1584, died in 1643. Leader of the House of Commons in its -contest with Charles I, he was the most able and indefatigable -opponent of royal usurpation, and the most active agent in the -impeachment of the Earl of Strafford. From a pamphlet written just -before his death, when war in the field had begun between king and -people, it seems doubtful whether he would not in the end have -resisted the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_281" id="page_281">{281}</a></span> usurpation of power by Cromwell and the Independents, -and supported the king as the least of two evils.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">If</span> Strafford embodied the spirit of tyranny, John Pym, the leader of the -Commons from the first meeting of the new houses at Westminster, stands -out for all after time as the embodiment of law. A Somersetshire -gentleman of good birth and competent fortune, he entered on public life -in the Parliament of 1614, and was imprisoned for his patriotism at its -close. He had been a leading member in that of 1620, and one of the -“twelve ambassadors” for whom James ordered chairs to be set at -Whitehall. Of the band of patriots with whom he had stood side by side -in the constitutional struggle against the earlier despotism of Charles -he was almost the sole survivor. Coke had died of old age; Cotton’s -heart was broken by oppression; Eliot had perished in the tower; -Wentworth had apostatized. Pym alone remained, resolute, patient as of -old; and as the sense of his greatness grew silently during the eleven -years of deepening misrule, the hope and faith of better things clung -almost passionately to the man, who never doubted of the final triumph -of freedom and the law. At their close, Clarendon tells us, in words all -the more notable for their bitter tone of hate, “he was the most popular -man, and the most able to do hurt, that has lived at any time.”</p> - -<p>He had shown he knew how to wait, and when waiting was over he showed he -knew how to act. On the eve of the Long Parliament he rode through -England to quicken the electors to a sense of the crisis which had come -at last; and on the assembling of the Commons, he took his place not -merely as member for Tavistock but as their acknowledged head. Few of -the country gentlemen, indeed, who formed the bulk of the members, had -sat in any previous House; and of the few, none represented in so -eminent a way the parliamentary tradition on which the coming struggle -was to turn. Pym’s eloquence, inferior in boldness and originality to -that of Eliot or Wentworth, was better<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_282" id="page_282">{282}</a></span> suited by its massive and -logical force to convince and guide a great party; and it was backed by -a calmness of temper, a dexterity and order in the management of public -business, and a practical power of shaping the course of debate, which -gave a form and method to parliamentary proceedings such as they had -never had before. Valuable, however, as these qualities were, it was a -yet higher quality which raised Pym into the greatest, as he was the -first, of parliamentary leaders.</p> - -<p>Of the five hundred members who sat round him at St. Stephen’s, he was -the one man who had clearly foreseen, and as clearly resolved how to -meet, the difficulties which lay before them. It was certain that -Parliament would be drawn into a struggle with the Crown. It was -probable that in such a struggle the House of Commons would be hampered, -as it had been hampered before, by the House of Lords. The legal -antiquaries of the older constitutional school stood helpless before -such a conflict of co-ordinate powers—a conflict for which no provision -had been made by the law, and on which precedents threw only a doubtful -and conflicting light. But, with a knowledge of precedent as great as -their own, Pym rose high above them in his grasp of constitutional -principles. He was the first English statesman who discovered, and -applied to the political circumstances around him, what may be called -the doctrine of constitutional proportion. He saw that, as an element of -constitutional life, Parliament was of higher value than the Crown; he -saw, too, that in Parliament itself the one essential part was the House -of Commons. On these two facts he based his whole policy in the contest -which followed.</p> - -<p>When Charles refused to act with the Parliament, Pym treated the refusal -as a temporary abdication on the part of the sovereign, which vested the -executive power in the two Houses until new arrangements were made. When -the Lords obstructed public business, he warned them that obstruction -would only force the Commons “to save the king<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_283" id="page_283">{283}</a></span>dom alone.” Revolutionary -as these principles seemed at the time, they have both been recognized -as bases of our constitution since the days of Pym. The first principle -was established by the Convention and Parliament which followed on the -departure of James II; the second by the acknowledgement on all sides, -since the Reform Bill of 1832, that the government of the country is -really in the hands of the House of Commons, and can only be carried on -by ministers who represent the majority of that House. Pym’s temper, -indeed, was the very opposite of the temper of a revolutionist. Few -natures have ever been wider in their range of sympathy or action.</p> - -<p>Serious as his purpose was, his manners were genial, and even courtly; -he turned easily from an invective against Strafford to a chat with Lady -Carlisle; and the grace and gayety of his social tone, even when the -care and weight of public affairs were bringing him to the grave, gave -rise to a hundred silly scandals among the prurient royalists. It was -this striking combination of genial versatility with a massive force in -his nature which marked him out from the first moment of power as a born -ruler of men. He proved himself at once the subtlest of diplomatists and -the grandest of demagogues. He was equally at home in tracking the -subtle intricacies of royalist intrigues, or in kindling popular passion -with words of fire. Though past middle life when his work really -began—for he was born in 1584, four years before the coming of the -Armada—he displayed from the first meeting of the Long Parliament the -qualities of a great administrator, an immense faculty for labor, a -genius for organization, patience, tact, a power of inspiring confidence -in all whom he touched, calmness and moderation under good fortune or -ill, an immovable courage, an iron will. No English ruler has ever shown -greater nobleness of natural temper or a wider capacity for government -than the Somersetshire squire, whom his enemies, made clear-sighted by -their hate, greeted truly enough as “King Pym.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_284" id="page_284">{284}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a name="HENRY_IV_KING_OF_FRANCE" id="HENRY_IV_KING_OF_FRANCE"></a>HENRY IV, KING OF FRANCE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[First French king of the Bourbon family, born king of Navarre -1553, assassinated 1610. Educated a Huguenot, he, as representing -this religious party, was married to Marguerite de Valois, the -sister of Charles IX, to signalize the pretended reconciliation of -religious differences, a few days before the massacre of St. -Bartholomew. For four years he was detained at the French court and -compelled to abjure his faith, till he succeeded in escaping and -putting himself at the head of the Protestant forces. After a life -of remarkable vicissitudes, Henry of Navarre became <i>de jure</i> king -of France as the next of surviving blood after Henry III, but was -not crowned till 1794, at which time he, for political reasons, -again and finally abjured Protestantism. Paris, and shortly -afterward the whole of France, then submitted to his rule. During -his reign of sixteen years Henry showed the highest qualities of -the great ruler, and his genius promised to make him as powerful a -potentate as Charles V had been, when he fell by the knife of the -assassin Ravaillac.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">At</span> his very name a figure seems to leap forth from the mist of three -centuries, instinct with ruddy, vigorous life. Such was the intense -vitality of the Bearnese prince, that even now he seems more thoroughly -alive and recognizable than half the actual personages who are fretting -their hour upon the stage.</p> - -<p>We see at once a man of moderate stature, light, sinewy, and strong; a -face browned with continual exposure; small, mirthful, yet commanding -blue eyes, glittering from beneath an arching brow, and prominent -cheek-bones; a long, hawk’s nose, almost resting upon a salient chin; a -pendent mustache, and a thick, brown, curly beard, prematurely grizzled; -we see the mien of frank authority and magnificent good-humor; we hear -the ready sallies of the shrewd Gascon mother-wit; we feel the -electricity which flashes out of him and sets all hearts around him on -fire, when the trumpet sounds to battle. The headlong, desper<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_285" id="page_285">{285}</a></span>ate -charge, the snow-white plume waving where the fire is hottest, the large -capacity for enjoyment of the man, rioting without affectation in the -<i>certaminis gaudia</i>, the insane gallop, after the combat, to lay its -trophies at the feet of the Cynthia of the minute, and thus to forfeit -its fruits—all are as familiar to us as if the seven distinct wars, the -hundred pitched battles, the two hundred sieges, in which the Bearnese -was personally present, had been occurrences of our own day.</p> - -<p>He at last was both king and man, if the monarch who occupied the throne -was neither. He was the man to prove, too, for the instruction of the -patient letter-writer of the Escorial,<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> that the crown of France was -to be won with foot in stirrup and carbine in hand, rather than to be -caught by the weaving and casting of the most intricate nets of -diplomatic intrigue, though thoroughly weighted with Mexican gold.</p> - -<p>The king of Navarre was now thirty-one years old; for the three Henrys -were nearly of the same age. The first indications of his existence had -been recognized amid the cannon and trumpets of a camp in Picardy, and -his mother had sung a gay Bearnese song as he was coming into the world -at Pau. “Thus,” said his grandfather, Henry of Navarre, “thou shalt not -bear to us a morose and sulky child.” The good king without a kingdom, -taking the child as soon as born in the lappel of his dressing-gown, had -brushed his infant lips with a clove of garlic and moistened them with a -drop of generous Gascon wine. “Thus,” said the grandfather again, “shall -the boy be both merry and bold.” There was something mythologically -prophetic in the incidents of his birth.</p> - -<p>The best part of Navarre had been long since appropriated by Ferdinand -of Aragon. In France there reigned a young and warlike sovereign with -four healthy boys. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_286" id="page_286">{286}</a></span> the newborn infant had inherited the lilies of -France from St. Louis, and a later ancestor had added to the escutcheon -the motto “<i>Espoir</i>.” His grandfather believed that the boy was born to -revenge upon Spain the wrongs of the house of Albret, and Henry’s nature -seemed ever pervaded with Robert of Clermont’s device.</p> - -<p>The same sensible grandfather, having different views on the subject of -education from those manifested by Catharine de Medici toward her -children, had the boy taught to run about bareheaded and barefooted, -like a peasant, among the mountains and rocks of Béarn, till he became -as rugged as a young bear and as nimble as a kid. Black bread and beef -and garlic were his simple fare; and he was taught by his mother and his -grandfather to hate lies and liars, and to read the Bible.</p> - -<p>When he was fifteen, the third religious war broke out. Both his father -and grandfather were dead. His mother, who had openly professed the -Reformed faith since the death of her husband, who hated it, brought her -boy to the camp at Rochelle, where he was received as the chief of the -Huguenots. His culture was not extensive. He had learned to speak the -truth, to ride, to shoot, to do with little sleep and less food. He -could also construe a little Latin, and had read a few military -treatises; but the mighty hours of an eventful life were now to take him -by the hand and to teach him much good and much evil, as they bore him -onward. He now saw military treatises expounded practically by -professors like his uncle Condé, and Admiral Coligny, and Lewis Nassau -in such lecture rooms as Laudun, and Jarnac, and Moncontour, and never -was apter scholar.</p> - -<p>The peace of Arnay-le-Duc succeeded, and then the fatal Bartholomew -marriage with the Messalina of Valois. The faith taught in the mountains -of Béarn was no buckler against the demand of “The mass, or death!” -thundered at his breast by the lunatic Charles, as he pointed to -thousands of massacred Huguenots. Henry yielded to such conclusive<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_287" id="page_287">{287}</a></span> -arguments, and became a Catholic. Four years of court-imprisonment -succeeded, and the young king of Navarre, though proof to the artifices -of his gossip Guise, was not adamant to the temptations spread for him -by Catharine de Medici. In the harem entertained for him in the Louvre, -many pitfalls entrapped him, and he became a stock-performer in the -state comedies and tragedies of that plotting age.</p> - -<p>A silken web of palace-politics, palace-diplomacy, palace-revolutions -enveloped him. Schemes and counter-schemes, stratagems and conspiracies, -assassinations and poisonings; all the state machinery which worked so -exquisitely in fair ladies’ chambers, to spread havoc and desolation -over a kingdom, were displayed before his eyes. Now campaigning with one -royal brother against Huguenots, now fighting with another on their -side, now solicited by the queen-mother to attempt the life of her son, -now implored by Henry III to assassinate his brother, the Bearnese, as -fresh antagonisms, affinities, combinations, were developed, detected, -neutralized almost daily, became rapidly an adept in Medician -state-chemistry. Charles IX in his grave, Henry III on the throne, -Alençon in the Huguenot camp—Henry at last made his escape. The brief -war and peace of Mercœur succeeded, and the king of Navarre formally -abjured the Catholic creed. The parties were now sharply defined. Guise -mounted upon the League, Henry astride upon the Reformation, were -prepared to do battle to the death. The temporary “war of the amorous” -was followed by the peace of Fleix.</p> - -<p>Four years of peace again—four fat years of wantonness and riot -preceding fourteen hungry, famine-stricken years of bloodiest civil war. -The voluptuousness and infamy of the Louvre were almost paralleled in -vice, if not in splendor, by the miniature court at Pau. Henry’s Spartan -grandfather would scarcely have approved the courses of the youth whose -education he had commenced on so simple a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_288" id="page_288">{288}</a></span> scale. For Margaret of -Valois, hating her husband, and living in most undisguised and -promiscuous infidelity to him, had profited by her mother’s lessons. A -seraglio of maids of honor ministered to Henry’s pleasures, and were -carefully instructed that the peace and war of the kingdom were -playthings in their hands. While at Paris royalty was hopelessly sinking -in a poisonous marsh, there was danger that even the hardy nature of the -Bearnese would be mortally enervated by the atmosphere in which he -lived.</p> - -<p>The unhappy Henry III, baited by the Guises, worried by the Alençon and -his mother, implored the king of Navarre to return to Paris and the -Catholic faith. M. de Segur, chief of Navarre’s council, who had been -won over during a visit to the capital, where he had made the discovery -that “Henry III was an angel, and his ministers devils,” came back to -Pau, urging his master’s acceptance of the royal invitation. Henry -wavered. Bold D’Aubigné, stanchest of Huguenots and of his friends, next -day privately showed Segur a palace window opening on a very steep -precipice over the Bayse, and cheerfully assured him that he should be -flung from it did he not instantly reverse his proceedings and give his -master different advice. “If I am not able to do the deed myself,” said -D’Aubigné, “here are a dozen more to help me.” The chief of the council -cast a glance behind him, saw a number of grim Puritan soldiers, with -their hats plucked down upon their brows, looking very serious; so made -his bow, and quite changed his line of conduct.</p> - -<p>But Henry—no longer the unsophisticated youth who had been used to run -barefoot among the cliffs of Coarraze—was grown too crafty a politician -to be entangled by Spanish or Medician wiles. The duke of Anjou was now -dead. Of all the princes who had stood between him and the throne, there -was none remaining save the helpless, childless, superannuated youth who -was its present occupant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_289" id="page_289">{289}</a></span> The king of Navarre was legitimate heir to -the crown of France. “<i>Espoir</i>” was now in letters of light upon his -shield, but he knew that his path to greatness led through manifold -dangers, and that it was only at the head of his Huguenot chivalry that -he could cut his way. He was the leader of the nobles of Gascony, and -Dauphiny, and Guienne, in their mountain fastnesses; of the weavers, -cutlers, and artisans in their thriving manufacturing and trading towns. -It was not Spanish gold, but carbines and cutlasses, bows and bills, -which could bring him to the throne of his ancestors.</p> - -<p>And thus he stood the chieftain of that great, austere party of -Huguenots, the men who went on their knees before the battle, beating -their breasts with their iron gantlets, and singing in full chorus a -psalm of David before smiting the Philistines hip and thigh.</p> - -<p>Their chieftain, scarcely their representative—fit to lead his Puritans -on the battle-field—was hardly a model for them elsewhere. Yet, though -profligate in one respect, he was temperate in every other. In food, -wine, and sleep, he was always moderate. Subtle and crafty in -self-defence, he retained something of his old love of truth, of his -hatred for liars. Hardly generous, perhaps, he was a friend of justice; -while economy in a wandering king like himself was a necessary virtue, -of which France one day was to feel the beneficent action. Reckless and -headlong in appearance, he was in truth the most careful of men. On the -religious question most cautious of all, he always left the door open -behind him, disclaimed all bigotry of opinion, and earnestly implored -the papists to seek, not his destruction, but his instruction. Yet, -prudent as he was by nature in every other regard, he was all his life -the slave of one woman or another; and it was by good luck rather than -by sagacity that he did not repeatedly forfeit the fruits of his courage -and conduct in obedience to his master-passion.</p> - -<p>Always open to conviction on the subject of his faith,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_290" id="page_290">{290}</a></span> he repudiated -the appellation of heretic. A creed, he said, was not to be changed like -a shirt, but only on due deliberation and under special advice. In his -secret heart he probably regarded the two religions as his chargers, and -was ready to mount alternately the one or the other, as each seemed the -more likely to bear him safely in battle. The Bearnese was no Puritan, -but he was most true to himself and to his own advancement. His highest -principle of action was to reach his goal, and to that principle he was -ever loyal. Feeling, too, that it was for the interest of France that he -should succeed, he was even inspired—compared with others on the -stage—by an almost lofty patriotism.</p> - -<p>Amiable by nature and by habit, he had preserved the most unimpaired -good-humor throughout the horrible years which succeeded St. -Bartholomew, during which he carried his life in his hand, and learned -not to wear his heart upon his sleeve. Without gratitude, without -resentment, without fear, without remorse, entirely arbitrary, yet with -the capacity to use all men’s judgments; without convictions, save in -regard to his dynastic interests, he possessed all the qualities -necessary to success. He knew how to use his enemies. He knew how to use -his friends, to abuse them, and to throw them away. He refused to -assassinate Francis Alençon at the bidding of Henry III, but he -attempted to procure the murder of the truest of his own friends, one of -the noblest characters of the age, whose breast showed twelve scars -received in his service—Agrippa D’Aubigné—because the honest soldier -had refused to become his pimp, a service the king had implored upon his -knees.</p> - -<p>Beneath the mask of perpetual, careless good-humor, lurked the keenest -eye, a subtle, restless, widely combining brain, and an iron will. -Native sagacity had been tempered into consummate elasticity by the -fiery atmosphere in which feebler natures had been dissolved. His wit -was as flashing and as quickly unsheathed as his sword. Desperate, -apparently reckless temerity on the battle-field was deliberately<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_291" id="page_291">{291}</a></span> -indulged in, that the world might be brought to recognize a hero and -chieftain in a king. The do-nothings of the Merovingian line had been -succeeded by the Pepins; to the effete Carlovingians had come a Capet; -to the impotent Valois should come a worthier descendant of St. Louis. -This was shrewd Gascon calculation, aided by constitutional -fearlessness. When dispatch-writing, invisible Philips, star-gazing -Rudolphs, and petticoated Henrys sat upon the thrones of Europe, it was -wholesome to show the world that there was a king left who could move -about in the bustle and business of the age, and could charge as well as -most soldiers at the head of his cavalry; that there was one more -sovereign fit to reign over men, besides the glorious virgin who -governed England.</p> - -<p>Thus courageous, crafty, far-seeing, consistent, untiring, -imperturbable, he was born to command, and had a right to reign. He had -need of the throne, and the throne had still more need of him.</p> - -<h2><a name="WALLENSTEIN_DUKE_OF_FRIEDLAND" id="WALLENSTEIN_DUKE_OF_FRIEDLAND"></a>WALLENSTEIN, DUKE OF FRIEDLAND.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Albrecht Wenzel Eusebius von Wallenstein, a distinguished Austrian -general, the most noted opponent of Gustavus Adolphus in the Thirty -Years’ War, born 1583, assassinated 1634. Wallenstein had already -achieved the most brilliant rank among the Imperialist generals, -except Tilly, when the defeat of the latter made the ambitious -soldier, whose great wealth and unscrupulous daring had excited the -jealousy of the Emperor Ferdinand, again a necessity to the -Catholic cause. Wallenstein, who had raised and subsisted an -immense army at his own expense at a time of pressing imperial -need, had afterward been retired from command. When called again to -the help of the imperial cause, Wallenstein dictated his own terms, -which practically left Ferdinand a mere puppet in his hands. Though -Gustavus Adolphus was victor at the battle of Lützen, it was at the -cost of his own life, a result welcomed by the Catholic league as a -great victory.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_292" id="page_292">{292}</a></span> Wallenstein reorganized his army, and was again -ordered by the emperor to lay down his baton on the just suspicion -that he was negotiating with the Swedes disloyally. His official -removal was made known to his principal generals, and Wallenstein, -deserted by a large portion of his troops, was assassinated by a -conspiracy of his minor officers, who had become satisfied that it -would be impracticable to secure his person alive, or to prevent -his immediate junction with the advancing Swedes.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Count Wallenstein</span>, afterward Duke of Friedland, was an experienced -officer, and the richest nobleman in Bohemia. From his earliest youth he -had been in the service of the house of Austria, and several campaigns -against the Turks, Venetians, Bohemians, Hungarians, and Transylvanians -had established his reputation. He was present as colonel at the battle -of Prague, and afterward, as major-general, had defeated a Hungarian -force in Moravia. The emperor’s gratitude was equal to his services, and -a large share of the confiscated estates of the Bohemian insurgents was -their reward. Possessed of immense property, excited by ambitious views, -confident of his own good fortune, and still more encouraged by the -existing state of circumstances, he offered, at his own expense and that -of his friends, to raise and clothe an army for the emperor, and even -undertook the cost of maintaining it if he were allowed to augment it to -fifty thousand men.</p> - -<p>The project was universally ridiculed as the chimerical offering of a -visionary brain; but the offer was highly valuable, if its promises -should be but partly fulfilled. Certain circles in Bohemia were assigned -to him as depots, with authority to appoint his own officers. In a few -months he had twenty thousand men under arms, with which, quitting the -Austrian territories, he soon afterward appeared on the frontiers of -Lower Saxony with thirty thousand. The emperor had lent this armament -nothing but his name. The reputation of the general, the prospect of -rapid promotion, and the hope of plunder, attracted to his standard -ad<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_293" id="page_293">{293}</a></span>venturers from all quarters of Germany, and even sovereign princes, -stimulated by the desire of glory or of gain, offered to raise regiments -for the service of Austria.</p> - -<p>The secret how Wallenstein had purposed to fulfill his extravagant -designs was now manifest. He had learned the lesson from Count -Mansfeld,<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> but the scholar surpassed his master. On the principle -that war must support war, Mansfeld and the Duke of Brunswick had -subsisted their troops by contributions levied indiscriminately on -friend and enemy; but this predatory life was attended with all the -inconvenience and insecurity which accompany robbery. Like fugitive -banditti, they were obliged to steal through exasperated and vigilant -enemies; to roam from one end of Germany to another; to watch their -opportunity with anxiety, and to abandon the most fertile territories -whenever they were defended by a superior army. If Mansfeld and Duke -Christian had done such great things in the face of these difficulties, -what might not be expected if the obstacles were removed; when the army -raised was numerous enough to overawe in itself the most powerful states -of the empire; when the name of the emperor insured impunity to every -outrage; and when, under the highest authority, and at the head of an -overwhelming force, the same system of warfare was pursued which these -two adventurers had hitherto adopted at their own risk, and with only an -untrained multitude?</p> - -<p>Wallenstein was at the head of an army of nearly a hundred thousand men, -who adored him, when the sentence of his dismissal arrived. Most of the -officers were his creatures—with the common soldiers his hint was law. -His ambition was boundless, his pride indomitable, his imperious spirit -could not brook an injury unavenged. One moment would now precipitate -him from the height of grandeur into the obscurity of a private station. -To execute such a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_294" id="page_294">{294}</a></span> sentence upon such a delinquent seemed to require -more address than it cost to obtain it from the judge. Accordingly, two -of Wallenstein’s most intimate friends were selected as heralds of these -evil tidings, and instructed to soften them as much as possible by -flattering assurances of the continuance of the emperor’s favor.</p> - -<p>Wallenstein had ascertained the purport of their message before the -imperial ambassadors arrived. He had time to collect himself, and his -countenance exhibited an external calmness while grief and rage were -storming in his bosom. He had made up his mind to obey. The emperor’s -decision had taken him by surprise before circumstances were ripe or his -preparations complete for the bold measures he had contemplated. His -extensive estates were scattered over Bohemia and Moravia, and by their -confiscation the emperor might at once destroy the sinews of his power. -He looked, therefore, to the future for revenge, and in this hope he was -encouraged by the predictions of an Italian astrologer, who led his -imperious spirit like a child in leading-strings. Seni had read in the -stars that his master’s brilliant career was not yet ended, and that -bright and glorious prospects still awaited him. It was, indeed, -unnecessary to consult the stars to foretell that an enemy, Gustavus -Adolphus, would ere long render indispensable the services of such a -general as Wallenstein.</p> - -<p>“The Emperor is betrayed,” said Wallenstein to the messengers; “I pity -but forgive him. It is plain that the grasping spirit of the Bavarian -dictates to him. I grieve that, with so much weakness, he has sacrificed -me; but I will obey.” He dismissed the emissaries with princely -presents, and, in a humble letter, besought the continuance of the -emperor’s favor and of the dignities he had bestowed upon him.</p> - -<p>The murmurs of the army were universal on hearing of the dismissal of -their general, and the greater part of his officers immediately quitted -the imperial service. Many<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_295" id="page_295">{295}</a></span> followed him to his estates in Bohemia and -Moravia; others he attached to his interests by pensions, in order to -command their services when the opportunity should offer.</p> - -<p>But repose was the last thing that Wallenstein contemplated when he -returned to private life. In his retreat he surrounded himself with a -regal pomp which seemed to mock the sentence of degradation. Six gates -led to the palace he inhabited in Prague, and a hundred houses were -pulled down to make way for his courtyard. Similar palaces were built on -his other numerous estates. Gentlemen of the noblest houses contended -for the honor of serving him, and even imperial chamberlains resigned -the golden key to the emperor to fill a similar office under -Wallenstein. He maintained sixty pages, who were instructed by the -ablest masters. His antechamber was protected by fifty life-guards. His -table never consisted of less than one hundred covers, and his seneschal -was a person of distinction. When he traveled his baggage and suite -accompanied him in a hundred wagons drawn by six or four horses; his -court followed in sixty carriages attended by fifty led horses. The pomp -of his liveries, the splendor of his equipages, and the decorations of -his apartments were in keeping with all the rest. Six barons and as many -knights were in constant attendance about his person, and ready to -execute his slightest order. Twelve patrols went their rounds about his -palace to prevent any disturbance. His busy genius required silence. The -noise of coaches was to be kept away from his residence, and the streets -leading to it were frequently blocked up with chains. His own circle was -as silent as the approaches to his palace. Dark, reserved, and -impenetrable, he was more sparing of his words than of his gifts, while -the little that he spoke was harsh and imperious. He never smiled, and -the coldness of his temperament was proof against sensual seductions.</p> - -<p>Ever occupied with grand schemes, he despised all those idle amusements -in which so many waste their lives. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_296" id="page_296">{296}</a></span> correspondence he kept up with -the whole of Europe was chiefly managed by himself, and, that as little -as possible might be trusted to the silence of others, most of the -letters were written by his own hand. He was a man of large stature, -thin, of a sallow complexion, with short, red hair, and small, sparkling -eyes. A gloomy and forbidding seriousness sat upon his brow, and his -magnificent presents alone retained the trembling crowd of his -dependents.</p> - -<p>In this stately obscurity did Wallenstein silently but not inactively -await the hour of revenge. The victorious career of Gustavus Adolphus -soon gave him a presentiment of its approach. Not one of his lofty -schemes had been abandoned, and the emperor’s ingratitude had loosened -the curb of his ambition. The dazzling splendor of his private life -bespoke high soaring projects, and, lavish as a king, he seemed already -to reckon among his certain possessions those which he contemplated with -hope.</p> - -<p>Wallenstein, at the age of fifty, terminated his active and -extraordinary life. To ambition he owed both his greatness and his ruin. -With all his failings he possessed great and admirable qualities; and, -had he kept himself within due bounds, he would have lived and died -without an equal. The virtues of the ruler and of the hero—prudence, -justice, firmness, and courage—are strikingly prominent features in his -character; but he wanted the gentler virtues of the man, which adorn the -hero and make the ruler beloved. Terror was the talisman with which he -worked; extreme in his punishments as in his rewards, he knew how to -keep alive the zeal of his followers, while no general of ancient or -modern times could boast of being obeyed with equal alacrity. Submission -to his will was more prized by him than bravery; for, if the soldiers -work by the latter, it is on the former that the general depends. He -continually kept up the obedience of his troops by capricious orders, -and profusely rewarded the readiness to obey even trifles, because he -looked rather to the act itself<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_297" id="page_297">{297}</a></span> than its object. He once issued a -decree, with the penalty of death on disobedience, that none but red -sashes should be worn in the army. A captain of horse no sooner heard -the order, than, pulling off his gold-embroidered sash, he trampled it -under foot. Wallenstein, on being informed of the circumstance, promoted -him on the spot to the rank of colonel.</p> - -<p>His comprehensive glance was always directed to the whole, and in all -his apparent caprice, he steadily kept in view some general scope or -bearing. The robberies committed by the soldiers in a friendly country -had led to the severest orders against marauders; and all who should be -caught thieving were threatened with the halter. Wallenstein himself -having met a straggler in the open country upon the field, commanded him -to be seized without trial, as a transgressor of the law, and, in his -usual voice of thunder, exclaimed, “Hang the fellow,” against which no -opposition ever availed. The soldier pleaded and proved his innocence, -but the irrevocable sentence had gone forth. “Hang, then, innocent,” -cried the inexorable Wallenstein, “the guilty will have then more reason -to tremble.” Preparations were already making to execute the sentence, -when the soldier, who gave himself up for lost, formed the desperate -resolution of not dying without revenge. He fell furiously upon his -judge, but was overpowered by numbers and disarmed before he could -fulfil his design. “Now let him go,” said the duke, “it will excite -sufficient terror.”</p> - -<p>His munificence was supported by an immense income, which was estimated -at three millions of florins yearly, without reckoning the enormous sums -which he raised under the name of contributions. His liberality and -clearness of understanding raised him above the religious prejudices of -his age; and the Jesuits never forgave him for having seen through their -system, and for regarding the pope as nothing more than a bishop of -Rome.</p> - -<p>But as no one ever yet came to a fortunate end who<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_298" id="page_298">{298}</a></span> quarrelled with the -Church, Wallenstein, also, must augment the number of its victims. -Through the intrigues of monks, he lost at Ratisbon the command of the -army, and at Egra his life; by the same arts, perhaps, he lost what was -of more consequence, his honorable name and good repute with posterity.</p> - -<p>For, in justice, it must be admitted that the pens which have traced the -history of this extraordinary man are not untinged with partiality, and -that the treachery of the duke, and his designs upon the throne of -Bohemia, rest not so much upon proved facts, as upon probable -conjecture. No documents have yet been brought to light which disclose -with historical certainty the secret motives of his conduct; and among -all his public and well-attested actions, there is, perhaps, not one -which could have had an innocent end. Many of his most obnoxious -measures proved nothing but the earnest wish he entertained for peace; -most of the others are explained and justified by the well-founded -distrust he entertained of the emperor, and the excusable wish of -maintaining his own importance. It is true, that his conduct toward the -Elector of Bavaria looks too like an unworthy revenge, and the dictates -of an implacable spirit; but still, none of his actions perhaps warrant -us in holding his treason to be proved. If necessity and despair at last -forced him to deserve the sentence which had been pronounced against him -while innocent, still this will not justify that sentence. Thus -Wallenstein fell, not because he was a rebel, but he became a rebel -because he fell. Unfortunate in life that he made a victorious party his -enemy, but still more unfortunate in death, that the same party survived -him and wrote his history.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_013" style="width: 452px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp299.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp299.jpg" width="452" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>CARDINAL RICHELIEU.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_299" id="page_299">{299}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CARDINAL_RICHELIEU" id="CARDINAL_RICHELIEU"></a>CARDINAL RICHELIEU.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By Sir JAMES STEPHEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Armand Jean Duplessis, Cardinal and Duke de Richelieu, born 1585, -died 1642. Originally trained to arms, as Marquis du Chillon, he -decided to take orders, studied theology and was made Bishop of -Luçon in 1607. During the minority of Louis XIII he enjoyed the -confidence of the queen regent, Maria de’ Medici, and in 1622 -received the cardinal’s hat. In spite of the dislike of the king he -became prime minister and practically ruled France till his death. -Though a prince of the Church, Richelieu secretly assisted the -parliamentary party in the English Revolution of 1640; and gave -most important assistance both in money and armies, as a matter of -state policy, to the Protestants during the Thirty Years’ War.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Richelieu</span> was one of the rulers of mankind in virtue of an inherent and -indefeasible birthright. His title to command rested on that sublime -force of will and decision of character by which, in an age of great -men, he was raised above them all. It is a gift which supposes and -requires in him on whom it is conferred convictions too firm to be -shaken by the discovery of any unperceived or unheeded truths. It is, -therefore, a gift which, when bestowed on the governors of nations, also -presupposes in them the patience to investigate, the capacity to -comprehend, and the genius to combine, all those views of the national -interest, under the guidance of which their inflexible policy is to be -conducted to its destined consummation; for the stoutest hearted men, if -acting in ignorance, or under the impulse of haste or of error, must -often pause, often hesitate, and not seldom recede. Richelieu was -exposed to no such danger. He moved onward to his predetermined ends -with that unfaltering step which attests, not merely a stern -immutability of purpose, but a comprehensive survey of the path to be -trodden, and a profound acquaintance with all its difficulties and all -its resources. It was a path from which he could be turned<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_300" id="page_300">{300}</a></span> aside -neither by his bad nor by his good genius; neither by fear, lassitude, -interest, nor pleasure; nor by justice, pity, humanity, nor conscience.</p> - -<p>The idolatrous homage of mere mental power, without reference to the -motives by which it is governed, or to the ends to which it is -addressed—that blind hero-worship, which would place Wallenstein and -Gustavus Adolphus on the same level, and extol with equal warmth the -triumphs of Cromwell and of Washington, though it be a modern fashion, -has certainly not the charm of novelty. On the contrary, it might, in -the language of the Puritans, be described as one of the “old follies of -the old Adam”; and to the influence of that folly the reputation of -Richelieu is not a little indebted.</p> - -<p>In his estimate, the absolute dominion of the French crown and the -grandeur of France were convertible terms. They seemed to him but as two -different aspects of the great consummation to which every hour of his -political life was devoted. In approaching that ultimate goal, there -were to be surmounted many obstacles which he distinctly perceived, and -of which he has given a very clear summary in his “Testament Politique.” -“When it pleased your majesty,” he says, “to give me not only a place in -your council, but a great share in the conduct of your affairs, the -Huguenots divided the state with you. The great lords were acting, not -as your subjects, but as independent chieftains. The governors of your -provinces were conducting themselves like so many sovereign princes. -Foreign affairs and alliances were disregarded. The interest of the -public was postponed to that of private men. In a word, your authority -was, at that time so torn to shreds, and so unlike what it ought to be, -that, in the confusion, it was impossible to recognize the genuine -traces of your royal power.”</p> - -<p>Before his death, Richelieu had triumphed over all these enemies, and -had elevated the house of Bourbon upon their ruins. He is, I believe, -the only human being who ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_301" id="page_301">{301}</a></span> conceived and executed, in the spirit of -philosophy, the design of erecting a political despotism; not, indeed a -despotism like that of Constantinople or Teheran, but a power which, -being restrained by religion, by learning, and by public spirit, was to -be exempted from all other restraints; a dynasty which, like a kind of -subordinate providence, was to spread wide its arms for the guidance and -shelter of the subject multitude, itself the while inhabiting a region -too lofty to be ever darkened by the mists of human weakness or of human -corruption.</p> - -<p>To devise schemes worthy of the academies of Laputa, and to pursue them -with all the relentless perseverance of Cortés or of Clive, has been -characteristic of many of the statesmen of France, both in remote and in -recent times. Richelieu was but a more successful Mirabeau. He was not -so much a minister as a dictator. He was rather the depositary than the -agent of the royal power. A king in all things but the name, he reigned -with that exemption from hereditary and domestic influences which has so -often imparted to the papal monarchs a kind of preterhuman energy, and -has so often taught the world to deprecate the celibacy of the throne.</p> - -<p>Richelieu was the heir of the designs of Henry IV, and the ancestor of -those of Louis XIV. But they courted, and were sustained by, the -applause and the attachment of their subjects. He passed his life in one -unintermitted struggle with each, in turn, of the powerful bodies over -which he ruled. By a long series of well-directed blows, he crushed -forever the political and military strength of the Huguenots. By his -strong hand, the sovereign courts were confined to their judicial -duties, and their claims to participate in the government of the state -were scattered to the winds. Trampling under foot all rules of judicial -procedure and the clearest principles of justice, he brought to the -scaffold one after another of the proudest nobles of France, by -sentences dictated by himself to extraordinary judges of his own -selection; thus teaching the doctrine of social equality by lessons<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_302" id="page_302">{302}</a></span> too -impressive to be misinterpreted or forgotten by any later generation. -Both the privileges, in exchange for which the greater fiefs had -surrendered their independence, and the franchises, for the conquest of -which the cities, in earlier times, had successfully contended, were -alike swept away by this remorseless innovator. He exiled the mother, -oppressed the wife, degraded the brother, banished the confessor, and -put to death the kinsmen and favorites of the king, and compelled the -king himself to be the instrument of these domestic severities. Though -surrounded by enemies and by rivals, his power ended only with his life. -Though beset by assassins, he died in the ordinary course of nature. -Though he had waded to dominion through slaughter, cruelty, and wrong, -he passed to his great account amid the applause of the people, with the -benedictions of the Church; and, as far as any human being ever could -perceive, in hope, in tranquility, and in peace.</p> - -<p>What, then, is the reason why so tumultuous a career reached at length -so serene a close? The reason is that, amid all his conflicts, Richelieu -wisely and successfully maintained three powerful alliances. He -cultivated the attachment of men of letters, the favor of the commons, -and the sympathy of all French idolaters of the national glory.</p> - -<p>He was a man of extensive, if not of profound, learning, a theologian of -some account, and an aspirant for fame as a dramatist, a wit, a poet, -and a historian. But if his claims to admiration as a writer were -disputable, none contended his title to applause as a patron of -literature and of art. The founder of a despotism in the world of -politics, he aspired also to be the founder of a commonwealth in the -world of letters. While crushing the national liberties, he founded the -French Academy as the sacred shrine of intellectual freedom and -independence. Acknowledging no equal in the state, he forbade the -acknowledgment, in that literary republic, of any superiority save that -of genius. While refusing to bare his head to any earthly potentate, he -would<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_303" id="page_303">{303}</a></span> permit no eminent author to stand bareheaded in his presence. By -these cheap and not dishonest arts, he gained an inestimable advantage. -The honors he conferred on the men of learning of his age they largely -repaid, by placing under his control the main-springs of public opinion.</p> - -<p>To conciliate the commons of France, Richelieu even ostentatiously -divested himself of every prejudice hostile to his popularity. A prince -of the Church of Rome, he cherished the independence of the Gallican -Church and clergy. The conqueror of the Calvinists, he yet respected the -rights of conscience. Of noble birth and ancestry, his demeanor was -still that of a tribune of the people. But it was not by demeanor alone -that he labored to win their regard. He affected the more solid praise -of large and salutary reformations.</p> - -<h2><a name="GUSTAVUS_ADOLPHUS_KING_OF_SWEDEN" id="GUSTAVUS_ADOLPHUS_KING_OF_SWEDEN"></a>GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, KING OF SWEDEN.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Known as the Protector of the Protestant Faith, the most brilliant -hero of the Thirty Years’ War, and one of the greatest soldiers of -modern times, born 1594, killed at the battle of Lutzen, 1632. In -1630, the Swedish king having satisfactorily disposed of the -various national difficulties which had so far embarrassed his -career, threw the weight of his gantlet into the struggle going on -between the Catholic league, headed by Ferdinand of Austria, and -the Protestant princes of Germany. The great genius of Gustavus -Adolphus, who taught an entirely new system of tactics, made him -irresistible, and in two years he firmly established a Protestant -ascendancy in German affairs which no power afterward could break. -Wallenstein was his most brilliant antagonist. After the death of -the Swedish hero, the generals who had been trained in his school -continued the war with various vicissitudes till peace was -declared, substantially granting the rights for which the -Protestant chieftains had been fighting.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Gustavus Adolphus</span> had not completed his seventeenth year when the -Swedish throne became vacant by the death of his father; but the early -maturity of his genius enabled<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_304" id="page_304">{304}</a></span> the Estates to abridge in his favor the -legal period of minority. With a glorious conquest over himself, he -commenced a reign which was to have victory for its constant -attendant—a career which was to begin and end in success. The young -Countess of Brahe, the daughter of a subject, had gained his early -affections, and he had resolved to share with her the Swedish throne; -but, constrained by time and circumstances, he made his attachment yield -to the higher duties of a king, and heroism again took exclusive -possession of a heart which was not destined by nature to confine itself -within the limits of quiet domestic happiness.</p> - -<p>Christian IV of Denmark, who ascended the throne before the birth of -Gustavus, in an inroad upon Sweden, had gained some considerable -advantages over the father of that hero. Gustavus Adolphus hastened to -put an end to this destructive war, and, by prudent sacrifices, obtained -a peace in order to turn his arms against the czar of Muscovy. The -questionable fame of a conqueror never tempted him to spend the blood of -his subjects in unjust wars; but he never shrunk from a just one. His -arms were successful against Russia, and Sweden was augmented by several -important provinces on the east.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, Sigismund of Poland retained against the son the same -sentiments of hostility which the father had provoked, and left no -artifice untried to shake the allegiance of his subjects, to cool the -ardor of his friends, and to embitter his enemies. Neither the great -qualities of his rival, nor the repeated proofs of devotion which Sweden -gave to her loved monarch, could extinguish in this infatuated prince -the foolish hope of regaining his lost throne. All Gustavus’s overtures -were haughtily rejected. Unwillingly was this really peaceful king -involved in a tedious war with Poland, in which the whole of Livonia and -Polish Prussia were successively conquered. Though constantly -victorious, Gustavus Adolphus was always the first to hold out the hand -of peace.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_305" id="page_305">{305}</a></span></p> - -<p>After the unsuccessful attempt of the king of Denmark to check the -emperor’s<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> progress, Gustavus Adolphus was the only prince in Europe -to whom oppressed liberty could look for protection—the only one who, -while he was personally qualified to conduct such an enterprise, had -both political motives to recommend and wrongs to justify it. Before the -commencement of the war in Lower Saxony, important political interests -induced him, as well as the king of Denmark, to offer his services and -his army for the defense of Germany; but the offer of the latter had, to -his own misfortune, been preferred. Since that time Wallenstein and the -emperor had adopted measures which must have been equally offensive to -him as a man and as a king. Imperial troops had been dispatched to the -aid of the Polish king, Sigismund, to defend Prussia against the Swedes. -When the king complained to Wallenstein of this act of hostility, he -received for answer, “The emperor has more soldiers than he wants for -himself; he must help his friends.” The Swedish ambassadors had been -insolently ordered by Wallenstein to withdraw from the conference at -Lubeck; and when, unawed by this command, they were courageous enough to -remain, contrary to the law of nations, he had threatened them with -violence.</p> - -<p>Ferdinand had also insulted the Swedish flag, and intercepted the king’s -dispatches to Transylvania. He also threw every obstacle in the way of a -peace between Poland and Sweden, supported the pretensions of Sigismund -to the Swedish throne, and denied the right of Gustavus to the title of -king. Deigning no regard to the repeated remonstrances of Gustavus, he -rather aggravated the offence by new grievances than conceded the -required satisfaction.</p> - -<p>So many personal motives, supported by important considerations, both of -policy and religion, and seconded by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_306" id="page_306">{306}</a></span> pressing invitations from Germany, -had their full weight with a prince who was naturally the more jealous -of his royal prerogative the more it was questioned, who was flattered -by the glory he hoped to gain as Protector of the Oppressed, and -passionately loved war as the element of his genius.</p> - -<p>But the strongest pledge for the success of his undertaking Gustavus -found in himself. Prudence demanded that he should embrace all the -foreign assistance he could, in order to guard his enterprise from the -imputation of rashness; but all his confidence and courage were entirely -derived from himself. He was indisputably the greatest general of his -age, and the bravest soldier in the army which he had formed. Familiar -with the tactics of Greece and Rome, he had discovered a more effective -system of warfare, which was adopted as a model by the most eminent -commanders of subsequent times. He reduced the unwieldly squadrons of -cavalry, and rendered their movements more light and rapid; and, with -the same view, he widened the intervals between his battalions. Instead -of the usual array in a single line, he disposed his forces in two -lines, that the second might advance in the event of the first giving -way.</p> - -<p>He made up for his want of cavalry, by placing infantry among the horse; -a practice which frequently decided the victory. Europe first learned -from him the importance of infantry. All Germany was astonished at the -strict discipline which, at the first, so creditably distinguished the -Swedish army within their territories; all disorders were punished with -the utmost severity—particularly impiety, theft, gambling, and -duelling. The Swedish articles of war enforced frugality. In the camp, -the king’s tent not excepted, neither silver nor gold was to be seen. -The general’s eye looked as vigilantly to the morals as to the martial -bravery of his soldiers; every regiment was ordered to form round its -chaplain for morning and evening prayers. In all<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_307" id="page_307">{307}</a></span> these points the -lawgiver was also an example. A sincere and ardent piety exalted his -courage. Equally free from the coarse infidelity which leaves the -passions of the barbarian without control; and from the grovelling -superstition of Ferdinand, who humbled himself to the dust before the -Supreme Being, while he haughtily trampled on his fellow creature—in -the height of his success he was ever a man and a Christian; in the -height of his devotion a king and a hero.</p> - -<p>The hardships of war he shared with the meanest soldier in his army; -maintained a calm serenity amid the hottest fury of battle; his glance -was omnipresent, and he intrepidly forgot the danger while he exposed -himself to the greatest peril. His natural courage, indeed, too often -made him forget the duty of a general; and the life of a king ended in -the death of a common soldier. But such a leader was followed to victory -alike by the coward and the brave, and his eagle glance marked every -heroic deed which his example had inspired. The fame of their sovereign -excited in the nation an enthusiastic sense of their own importance; -proud of their king, the peasant in Finland and Gothland joyfully -contributed his pittance; the soldier willingly shed his blood; and the -lofty energy which his single mind had imparted to the nation long -survived its creator.</p> - -<p>If Gustavus Adolphus owed his successes chiefly to his own genius, at -the same time, it must be owned, he was greatly favored by fortune and -by circumstance. Two great advantages gave him a decided superiority -over the enemy. While he removed the scene of war into the lands of the -League, drew their youths as recruits, enriched himself with booty, and -used the revenue of their fugitive princes as his own, he at once took -from the enemy the means of effectual resistance, and maintained an -expensive war with little cost to himself. And, moreover, while his -opponents, the princes of the League, divided among themselves, and -governed by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_308" id="page_308">{308}</a></span> different and conflicting interests, acted without -unanimity, and therefore without energy; while the generals were -deficient in authority, their troops in obedience, the operations of -their scattered armies without concert; while the general was separated -from the lawgiver and the statesman; these several functions were united -in Gustavus Adolphus, the only source from which authority flowed, the -sole object to which the eye of the warrior turned; the soul of his -party, the inventor as well as the executor of his plans. In him, -therefore, the Protestants had a center of unity and harmony, which was -altogether wanting to their opponents. No wonder, then, if favored by -such advantages, at the head of such an army, with such a genius to -direct it, and guided by such political prudence, Gustavus Adolphus was -irresistible.</p> - -<p>With the sword in one hand, and mercy in the other, he traversed Germany -as a conqueror, a lawgiver, and a judge, in as short a time almost as -the tourist of pleasure. The keys of towers and fortresses were -delivered to him, as if to a native sovereign. No fortress was -inaccessible; no river checked his victorious career. He conquered by -the very terror of his name.</p> - -<p>History, too often confined to the ungrateful task of analyzing the -uniform play of human passions, is occasionally rewarded by the -appearance of events which strike like a hand from heaven into the -nicely adjusted machinery of human plans, and carry the contemplative -mind to a higher order of things. Of this kind, is the sudden retirement -of Gustavus Adolphus from the scene; stopping for a time the whole -movement of the political machine, and disappointing all the -calculations of human prudence. Yesterday, the very soul, the great and -animating principle of his own creation; to-day struck unpitiably to the -ground in the very midst of his eagle flight; untimely torn from a whole -world of great designs, and from the ripening harvest of his -expectations, he left his bereaved party disconsolate; and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_309" id="page_309">{309}</a></span> proud -edifice of his past greatness sank into ruins. The Protestant party had -identified its hopes with its invincible leader, and scarcely can it now -separate them from him; with him, they now fear all good fortune is -buried. But it was no longer the benefactor of Germany who fell at -Lutzen; the beneficent part of his career, Gustavus Adolphus had already -terminated; and now the greatest service which he could render to the -liberties of Germany was—to die.</p> - -<p>The ambition of the Swedish monarch aspired unquestionably to establish -a power within Germany, and to attain a firm footing in the center of -the empire, which was inconsistent with the liberties of the Estates. -His aim was the imperial crown; and this dignity, supported by his -power, and maintained by his energy and activity, would in his hands be -liable to more abuse than had ever been feared from the House of -Austria. Born in a foreign country, educated in the maxims of arbitrary -power, and by principles and enthusiasm a determined enemy to popery, he -was ill qualified to maintain inviolate the constitution of the German -States, or to respect their liberties. The coercive homage which -Augsburg, with many other cities, was forced to pay to the Swedish -crown, bespoke the conqueror, rather than the protector of the empire; -and this town, prouder of the title of a royal city than of the higher -dignity of the freedom of the empire, flattered itself with the -anticipation of becoming the capital of his future kingdom.</p> - -<p>His ill-disguised attempts upon the Electorate of Mentz, which he first -intended to bestow upon the Elector of Brandenburg, as the dower of his -daughter Christina, and afterward destined for his chancellor and friend -Oxenstiern, evinced plainly what liberties he was disposed to take with -the constitution of the empire. His allies, the Protestant princes, had -claims on his gratitude, which could be satisfied only at the expense of -their Roman Catholic neighbors, and particularly of the immediate -Ecclesiastical Chapters; and it seems probable a plan was early formed -for dividing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_310" id="page_310">{310}</a></span> the conquered provinces (after the precedent of the -barbarian hordes who overran the German empire) as a common spoil, among -the German and Swedish confederates. In his treatment of the Elector -Palatine, he entirely belied the magnanimity of the hero, and forgot the -sacred character of a protector. The Palatinate was in his hands, and -the obligations both of justice and honor demanded its full and -immediate restoration to the legitimate sovereign. But, by a subtlety -unworthy of a great mind, and disgraceful to the honorable title of -protector of the oppressed, he eluded that obligation. He treated the -Palatinate as a conquest wrested from the enemy, and thought that this -circumstance gave him a right to deal with it as he pleased. He -surrendered it to the Elector as a favor, not as a debt; and that, too, -as a Swedish fief, fettered by conditions which diminished half its -value, and degraded this unfortunate prince into a humble vassal of -Sweden. One of these conditions obliged the Elector, after the -conclusion of the war, to furnish, along with the other princes, his -contribution toward the maintenance of the Swedish army—a condition -which plainly indicates the fate which, in the event of the ultimate -success of the king, awaited Germany. His sudden disappearance secured -the liberties of Germany, and saved his reputation, while it probably -spared him the mortification of seeing his own allies in arms against -him, and all the fruits of his victories torn from him by a -disadvantageous peace.</p> - -<h2><a name="EARL_OF_STRAFFORD" id="EARL_OF_STRAFFORD"></a>EARL OF STRAFFORD.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By DAVID HUME.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, born 1593, executed 1641. At -first a leading member of the opposition to Charles I in -Parliament, he afterward joined the court party and became -successively Viscount Wentworth and Earl of Strafford. As governor -of Ireland, he organized the first standing army in English annals; -and afterward formu<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_311" id="page_311">{311}</a></span>lated the policy of “Thorough”—an executive -system which would have made Charles an absolute monarch, free of -parliamentary or other shackles. His remarkable political genius -inspired such dread that Parliament looked on his death as -essential to their cause. He was impeached as a traitor, an -indictment undoubtedly true, but which could not be legally proved. -He was finally condemned by a bill of attainder. The worst blot on -Charles I is that he should have yielded up Strafford to his foes -with hardly a struggle. Though traitor to his country, he was the -most loyal and devoted of servants to his king. Hume’s estimate of -Strafford is more lenient than that of other historians.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the former situation of the English Government, when the sovereign -was in a great measure independent of his subjects, the king chose his -ministers either from personal favor, or from an opinion of their -abilities, without any regard to their parliamentary interest or -talents. It has since been the maxim of princes, wherever popular -leaders encroach too much on royal authority, to confer offices on them, -in expectation that they will afterward become more careful not to -diminish that power which has become their own. These politics were now -embraced by Charles; a sure proof that a secret revolution had happened -in the constitution, and had necessitated the prince to adopt new maxims -of government. But the views of the king were at this time so repugnant -to those of the Puritans that the leaders whom he gained lost from that -moment all interest with their party, and were even pursued as traitors -with implacable hatred and resentment.</p> - -<p>This was the case with Sir Thomas Wentworth, whom the king created first -a baron, then a viscount, and afterward Earl of Strafford; made him -president of the council of York, and deputy of Ireland; and regarded -him as his chief minister and counsellor. By his eminent talents and -abilities Strafford merited all the confidence which his master reposed -in him; his character was stately and austere—more fitted to procure -esteem than love; his fidelity to the king was unshaken; but as he now -employed all his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_312" id="page_312">{312}</a></span> counsels to support the prerogative, which he had -formerly bent all his endeavors to diminish, his virtue seems not to -have been entirely pure, but to have been susceptible of strong -impressions from private interest and ambition.</p> - -<p>The death of Strafford was too important a stroke of party to be left -unattempted by any expedient however extraordinary. Besides the great -genius and authority of that minister, he had threatened some of the -popular leaders with an impeachment; and had he not himself been -suddenly prevented by the impeachment of the Commons, he had, that very -day, it was thought, charged Pym, Hambden, and others with treason for -having invited the Scots to invade England. A bill of attainder was, -therefore, brought into the Lower House immediately after finishing -these pleadings; and preparatory to it a new proof of the earl’s guilt -was produced, in order to remove such scruples as might be entertained -with regard to a method of proceeding so unusual and irregular.</p> - -<p>Sir Henry Vane, secretary, had taken some notes of a debate in council -after the dissolution of the last Parliament; and being at a distance, -he had sent the keys of his cabinet, as was pretended, to his son, Sir -Henry, in order to search for some papers, which were necessary for -completing a marriage settlement. Young Vane, falling upon this paper of -notes, deemed the matter of the utmost importance, and immediately -communicated it to Pym, who now produced the paper before the House of -Commons. The question before the council was, <i>offensive or defensive -war with the Scots</i>. The king proposes this difficulty, “But how can I -undertake offensive war, if I have no more money?” The answer ascribed -to Strafford was in these words: “Borrow of the city a hundred thousand -pounds; go on vigorously to levy ship-money. Your majesty having tried -the affections of your people, you are absolved and loose from all rules -of government, and may do what power will admit. Your majesty, having -tried all ways, shall be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_313" id="page_313">{313}</a></span> acquitted before God and man. And you have an -army in Ireland, which you may employ to reduce this kingdom to -obedience; for I am confident the Scots can not hold out five months.” -There followed some counsels of Laud and Cottington, equally violent, -with regard to the king’s being absolved from all rules of government.</p> - -<p>The evidence of Secretary Vane, though exposed to such insurmountable -objections, was the real cause of Strafford’s unhappy fate, and made the -bill of attainder pass the Commons with no greater opposition than that -of fifty-nine dissenting votes. But there remained two other branches of -the legislature, the king and the lords, whose assent was requisite; and -these, if left to their free judgment, it was easily foreseen, would -reject the bill without scruple or deliberation. To overcome this -difficulty, the popular leaders employed expedients, for which they were -beholden partly to their own industry, partly to the indiscretion of -their adversaries.</p> - -<p>Strafford, in passing from his apartment to Tower Hill, where the -scaffold was erected, stopped under Laud’s windows, with whom he had -long lived in intimate friendship, and entreated the assistance of his -prayers in those awful moments which were approaching. The aged primate -dissolved in tears; and having pronounced, with a broken voice, a tender -blessing on his departing friend, sank into the arms of his attendants. -Strafford, still superior to his fate, moved on with an elated -countenance, and with an air even of greater dignity than what usually -attended him. He wanted that consolation which commonly supports those -who perish by the stroke of injustice and oppression; he was not buoyed -up by glory, nor by the affectionate compassion of the spectators. Yet -his mind, erect and undaunted, found resources within itself, and -maintained its unbroken resolution amid the terrors of death and the -triumphant exultations of his misguided enemies. His discourse on the -scaffold was full of decency and courage. “He feared,” he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_314" id="page_314">{314}</a></span> said, “that -the omen was bad for the intended reformation of the state, that it -commenced with the shedding of innocent blood.”</p> - -<p>Having bid a last adieu to his brother and friends who attending him, -and having sent a blessing to his nearer relations who were absent—“And -now,” said he, “I have nigh done! One stroke will make my wife a widow, -my dear children fatherless, deprive my poor servants of their indulgent -master, and separate me from my affectionate brother and all my friends! -But let God be to you and them all in all!” Going to disrobe and prepare -himself for the block, “I thank God,” said he, “that I am nowise afraid -of death, nor am daunted with any terrors; but do as cheerfully lay down -my head at this time, as ever I did when going to repose!” With one blow -was a period put to his life by the executioner.</p> - -<p>Thus perished, in the forty-ninth year of his age, the Earl of -Strafford, one of the most eminent personages that has appeared in -England. Though his death was loudly demanded as a satisfaction to -justice, and an atonement for the many violations of the constitution, -it may safely be affirmed that the sentence by which he fell was an -enormity greater than the worst of those which his implacable enemies -prosecuted with so much cruel industry. The people in their rage had -totally mistaken the proper object of their resentment. All the -necessities, or more properly speaking, the difficulties, by which the -king had been induced to use violent expedients for raising supply were -the result of measures previous to Strafford’s favor; and if they arose -from ill conduct, he, at least, was entirely innocent.</p> - -<p>Even those violent expedients themselves, which occasioned the complaint -that the constitution was subverted, had been all of them conducted, so -far as appeared, without his counsel or assistance. And whatever his -private advice might be, this salutary maxim he failed not, often and -publicly, to inculcate in the king’s presence, that if any</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_014" style="width: 439px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp315.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp315.jpg" width="439" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>OLIVER CROMWELL.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_315" id="page_315">{315}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">inevitable necessity ever obliged the sovereign to violate the laws, -this license ought to be practiced with extreme reserve, and as soon as -possible a just atonement be made to the constitution for any injury -which it might sustain from such dangerous precedents. The first -Parliament after the restoration reversed the bill of attainder; and -even a few weeks after Strafford’s execution this very Parliament -remitted to his children the more severe consequences of his sentence, -as if conscious of the violence with which the prosecution had been -conducted.</p> - -<h2><a name="OLIVER_CROMWELL" id="OLIVER_CROMWELL"></a>OLIVER CROMWELL.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Lord Protector of the English Commonwealth, and leader of the -Revolution of 1640, born 1599, died 1658. Descended from a good -race, connected with some of the best families in England, he -became identified with the Puritan cause in the contest with King -Charles I. He took active part in hostilities from the first, -formed the famous Ironsides, and reorganized the parliamentary -army, of which he soon became the chief general. He was active in -the formation of the High Commission, which tried and condemned the -king, and thenceforward was the ruler of England. It was not till -1651, however, that he became the titular Lord Protector, and -reorganized the government mainly on the lines of monarchy.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> soul of his party was Oliver Cromwell. Bred to peaceful occupations, -he had, at more than forty years of age, accepted a commission in the -parliamentary army. He saw precisely where the strength of the Royalists -lay, and by what means alone that strength could be overpowered. He saw -that it was necessary to reconstruct the army of the Parliament. He saw -also that there were abundant and excellent materials for the purpose, -materials less showy, indeed, but more solid, than those of which the -gallant squadrons of the king were composed. It was necessary to look<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_316" id="page_316">{316}</a></span> -for recruits who were not mere mercenaries, for recruits of decent -station and grave character, fearing God and zealous for public liberty. -With such men he filled his own regiment, and, while he subjected them -to a discipline more rigid than had ever before been known in England, -he administered to their intellectual and moral nature stimulants of -fearful potency. Cromwell made haste to organize the whole army on the -same principles on which he had organized his own regiment. As soon as -this process was complete, the event of the war was decided. The -Cavaliers had now to encounter natural courage equal to their own, -enthusiasm stronger than their own, and discipline such as was utterly -wanting to them. It soon became a proverb that the soldiers of Fairfax -and Cromwell were men of a different breed from the soldiers of Essex. -At Naseby took place the first great encounter between the Royalists and -the remodeled army of the Houses. The victory of the Roundheads was -complete and decisive. It was followed by other triumphs in rapid -succession. In a few months the authority of the Parliament was fully -established over the whole kingdom. Charles fled to the Scots, and was -by them, in a manner which did not much exalt their national character, -delivered up to his English subjects.</p> - -<p>In war this strange force was irresistible. The stubborn courage -characteristic of the English people was, by the system of Cromwell, at -once regulated and stimulated. Other leaders have maintained orders as -strict. Other leaders have inspired their followers with zeal as ardent. -But in his camp alone the most rigid discipline was found in company -with the fiercest enthusiasm. His troops moved to victory with the -precision of machines, while burning with the wildest fanaticism of -crusaders. From the time when the army was remodeled to the time when it -was disbanded, it never found, either in the British islands or on the -Continent, an enemy who could stand its onset. In England, Scotland, -Ireland, Flanders, the Puritan warriors, often<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_317" id="page_317">{317}</a></span> surrounded by -difficulties, sometimes contending against threefold odds, not only -never failed to conquer, but never failed to destroy and break in pieces -whatever force was opposed to them. They at length came to regard the -day of battle as a day of certain triumph, and marched against the most -renowned battalions of Europe with disdainful confidence. Turenne was -startled by the shout of stern exultation with which his English allies -advanced to the combat, and expressed the delight of a true soldier, -when he learned that it was ever the fashion of Cromwell’s pikemen to -rejoice greatly when they beheld the enemy; and the banished Cavaliers -felt an emotion of national pride, when they saw a brigade of their -countrymen, outnumbered by foes and abandoned by friends, drive before -it in headlong rout the finest infantry of Spain. The military saints -resolved that, in defiance of the old laws of the realm, and of the -almost universal sentiment of the realm, the king should expiate his -crimes with blood. In order to accomplish their purpose, it was -necessary that they should first break in pieces every part of the -machinery of government. A revolutionary tribunal was created. That -tribunal pronounced Charles a tyrant, a traitor, a murderer, and a -public enemy; and his head was severed from his shoulders before -thousands of spectators in front of the banqueting hall of his own -palace.</p> - -<p>King, Lords, and Commons, had now in turn been vanquished and destroyed; -and Cromwell seemed to be left the sole heir of the powers of all three. -Yet were certain limitations still imposed on him by the very army to -which he owed his immense authority. That singular body of men was, for -the most part, composed of zealous republicans. In the act of enslaving -their country, they had deceived themselves into the belief that they -were emancipating her. The book which they most venerated furnished them -with a precedent, which was frequently in their mouths. It was true that -the ignorant and ungrateful nation murmured<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_318" id="page_318">{318}</a></span> against its deliverers. -Even so had another chosen nation murmured against the leader who -brought it, by painful and dreary paths, from the house of bondage to -the land flowing with milk and honey. Yet had that leader rescued his -brethren in spite of themselves; nor had he shrunk from making terrible -examples of those who contemned the proffered freedom, and pined for the -fleshpots, the taskmasters and the idolatries of Egypt. The object of -the warlike saints who surrounded Cromwell was the settlement of a free -and pious commonwealth. For that end they were ready to employ, without -scruple, any means, however violent and lawless. It was not impossible, -therefore, to establish by their aid a dictatorship such as no king had -even exercised: but it was probable that their aid would be at once -withdrawn from a ruler who, even under strict constitutional restraints, -should venture to assume the kingly name and dignity.</p> - -<p>The sentiments of Cromwell were widely different. He was not what he had -been; nor would it be just to consider the change which his views had -undergone as the effect merely of selfish ambition. He had, when he came -up to the Long Parliament, brought with him from his rural retreat -little knowledge of books, no experience of great affairs, and a temper -galled by the long tyranny of the government and of the hierarchy. He -had, during the thirteen years which followed, gone through a political -education of no common kind. He had been a chief actor in a succession -of revolutions. He had been long the soul, and at last the head, of a -party. He had commanded armies, won battles, negotiated treaties, -subdued, pacified, and regulated kingdoms. It would have been strange -indeed if his notions had been still the same as in the days when his -mind was principally occupied by his fields and his religion, and when -the greatest events which diversified the course of his life were a -cattle fair or a prayer meeting at Huntingdon. He saw that some schemes -of innovation for which he had once<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_319" id="page_319">{319}</a></span> been zealous, whether good or bad -in themselves, were opposed to the general feeling of the country, and -that, if he persevered in those schemes, he had nothing before him but -constant troubles, which must be suppressed by the constant use of the -sword. He therefore wished to restore, in all essentials, that ancient -constitution which the majority of the people had always loved, and for -which they now pined.</p> - -<p>The course afterward taken by Monk was not open to Cromwell. The memory -of one terrible day separated the great regicide for ever from the house -of Stuart. What remained was that he should mount the ancient English -throne, and reign according to the ancient English polity. If he could -effect this, he might hope that the wounds of the lacerated state would -heal fast. Great numbers of honest and quiet men would speedily rally -round him. Those Royalists whose attachment was rather to institutions -than to persons, to the kingly office than to King Charles I or King -Charles II, would soon kiss the hand of King Oliver. The peers, who now -remained sullenly at their country houses, and refused to take any part -in public affairs, would, when summoned to their House by the writ of a -king in possession, gladly resume their ancient functions. -Northumberland and Bedford, Manchester and Pembroke, would be proud to -bear the crown and the spurs, the scepter and the globe, before the -restorer of aristocracy. A sentiment of loyalty would gradually bind the -people to the new dynasty; and, on the decease of the founder of that -dynasty, the royal dignity might descend with general acquiescence to -his posterity.</p> - -<p>The ablest Royalists were of opinion that these views were correct, and -that, if Cromwell had been permitted to follow his own judgment, the -exiled line would never have been restored. But his plan was directly -opposed to the feelings of the only class which he dared not offend. The -name of king was hateful to the soldiers. Some of them were indeed -unwilling to see the administration in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_320" id="page_320">{320}</a></span> hands of any single person. -The great majority, however, were disposed to support their general, as -elective first magistrate of a commonwealth, against all factions which -might resist his authority: but they would not consent that he should -assume the regal title, or that the dignity, which was the just reward -of his personal merit, should be declared hereditary in his family. All -that was left to him was to give to the new republic a constitution as -like the constitution of the old monarchy as the army would bear.</p> - -<p>Had he been a cruel, licentious, and rapacious prince, the nation might -have found courage in despair, and might have made a convulsive effort -to free itself from military domination. But the grievances which the -country suffered, though such as excited serious discontent, were by no -means such as impel great masses of men to stake their lives, their -fortunes, and the welfare of their families against fearful odds. The -taxation, though heavier than it had been under the Stuarts, was not -heavy when compared with that of the neighboring states and with the -resources of England. Property was secure. Even the Cavalier, who -refrained from giving disturbance to the new settlement, enjoyed in -peace whatever the civil troubles had left him. The laws were violated -only in cases where the safety of the Protector’s person and government -was concerned. Justice was administered between man and man with an -exactness and purity not before known. Under no English government, -since the Reformation, had there been so little religious persecution. -The unfortunate Roman Catholics, indeed, were held to be scarcely within -the pale of Christian charity. But the clergy of the fallen Anglican -Church were suffered to celebrate their worship on condition that they -would abstain from preaching about politics. Even the Jews, whose public -worship had, ever since the thirteenth century, been interdicted, were, -in spite of the strong opposition of jealous traders and fanatical -theologians, permitted to build a synagogue in London.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_321" id="page_321">{321}</a></span></p> - -<p>The Protector’s foreign policy at the same time extorted the ungracious -approbation of those who most detested him. The Cavaliers could scarcely -refrain from wishing that one who had done so much to raise the fame of -the nation had been a legitimate king; and the Republicans were forced -to own that the tyrant suffered none but himself to wrong his country, -and that, if he had robbed her of liberty, he had at least given her -glory in exchange. After half a century during which England had been of -scarcely more weight in European politics than Venice or Saxony, she at -once became the most formidable power in the world, dictated terms of -peace to the United Provinces, avenged the common injuries of -Christendom on the pirates of Barbary, vanquished the Spaniards by land -and sea, seized one of the finest West Indian islands, and acquired on -the Flemish coast a fortress which consoled the national pride for the -loss of Calais. She was supreme on the ocean. She was the head of the -Protestant interest. All the reformed churches scattered over Roman -Catholic kingdoms acknowledged Cromwell as their guardian. The Huguenots -of Languedoc, the shepherds who, in the hamlets of the Alps, professed a -Protestantism older than that of Augsburg, were secured from oppression -by the mere terror of his great name. The Pope himself was forced to -preach humanity and moderation to popish princes. For a voice which -seldom threatened in vain had declared that, unless favor were shown to -the people of God, the English guns should be heard in the castle of -Saint Angelo. In truth, there was nothing which Cromwell had, for his -own sake and that of his family, so much reason to desire as a general -religious war in Europe. In such a war he must have been the captain of -the Protestant armies. The heart of England would have been with him. -His victories would have been hailed with a unanimous enthusiasm unknown -in the country since the rout of the Armada, and would have effaced the -stain which one act, condemned by the general voice of the nation, has -left on his splendid<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_322" id="page_322">{322}</a></span> fame. Unhappily for him he had no opportunity of -displaying his admirable military talents, except against the -inhabitants of the British isles.</p> - -<p>While he lived his power stood firm, an object of mingled aversion, -admiration, and dread to his subjects. Few indeed loved his government; -but those who hated it most hated it less than they feared it. Had it -been a worse government, it might perhaps have been overthrown in spite -of all its strength. Had it been a weaker government, it would certainly -have been overthrown in spite of all its merits. But it had moderation -enough to abstain from those oppressions which drive men mad; and it had -a force and energy which none but men driven mad by oppression would -venture to encounter.</p> - -<p>It has often been affirmed, but with little reason, that Oliver died at -a time fortunate for his renown, and that, if his life had been -prolonged, it would probably have closed amid disgraces and disasters. -It is certain that he was, to the last, honored by his soldiers, obeyed -by the whole population of the British islands, and dreaded by all -foreign powers; that he was laid among the ancient sovereigns of England -with funeral pomp such as London had never before seen, and that he was -succeeded by his son Richard as quietly as any king had ever been -succeeded by any Prince of Wales.</p> - -<h2><a name="LORD_HALIFAX" id="LORD_HALIFAX"></a>LORD HALIFAX.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[George Savile, Marquis of Halifax, one of the most brilliant of -seventeenth century statesmen, born 1630, died 1695. He was a most -important figure in the reigns of Charles II, James II, and of -William III, and amid the dissensions and disturbances of the -period his sanity, moderation, and wisdom did much to assuage the -most dangerous<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_323" id="page_323">{323}</a></span> party conflicts. Macaulay’s characterization of him -is among the noted historic portraits.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Among</span> the statesmen of those times Halifax was, in genius, the first. -His intellect was fertile, subtle, and capacious. His polished, -luminous, and animated eloquence, set off by the silver tones of his -voice, was the delight of the House of Lords. His conversation -overflowed with thought, fancy, and wit. His political tracts well -deserve to be studied for their literary merit, and fully entitle him to -a place among English classics. To the weight derived from talents so -great and various he united all the influence which belongs to rank and -ample possessions. Yet he was less successful in politics than many who -enjoy smaller advantages. Indeed, those intellectual peculiarities which -make his writings valuable frequently impeded him in the contests of -active life. For he always saw passing events, not in the point of view -in which they commonly appear to one who bears a part in them, but in -the point of view in which, after the lapse of many years, they appear -to the philosophic historian. With such a turn of mind, he could not -long continue to act cordially with any body of men. All the prejudices, -all the exaggerations, of both the great parties in the state moved his -scorn. He despised the mean arts and unreasonable clamors of demagogues. -He despised still more the doctrines of divine right and passive -obedience. He sneered impartially at the bigotry of the Churchman and at -the bigotry of the Puritan.</p> - -<p>He was equally unable to comprehend how any man should object to saints’ -days and surplices, and how any man should persecute any other man for -objecting to them. In temper he was what, in our time, is called a -Conservative, in theory he was a Republican. Even when his dread of -anarchy and his disdain for vulgar delusions led him to side for a time -with the defenders of arbitrary power, his intellect was always with -Locke and Milton. Indeed, his jests upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_324" id="page_324">{324}</a></span> hereditary monarchy were -sometimes such as would have better become a member of the Calf’s Head -Club than a privy councilor of the Stuarts. In religion he was so far -from being a zealot that he was called by the uncharitable an atheist; -but this imputation he vehemently repelled; and in truth, though he -sometimes gave scandal by the way in which he exerted his rare powers -both of reasoning and of ridicule on serious subjects, he seems to have -been by no means unsusceptible of religious impressions.</p> - -<p>He was the chief of those politicians whom the two great parties -contemptuously called trimmers. Instead of quarreling with this -nickname, he assumed it as a title of honor, and vindicated, with great -vivacity, the dignity of the appellation. Everything good, he said, -trims between extremes. The temperate zone trims between the climate in -which men are roasted and the climate in which they are frozen. The -English Church trims between the Anabaptist madness and the Papist -lethargy. The English constitution trims between Turkish despotism and -Polish anarchy. Virtue is nothing but a just temper between propensities -any one of which, if indulged to excess, becomes vice. Nay, the -perfection of the Supreme Being himself consists in the exact -equilibrium of attributes, none of which could preponderate without -disturbing the whole moral and physical order of the world.</p> - -<p>Thus Halifax was a trimmer on principle. He was also a trimmer by the -constitution both of his head and of his heart. His understanding was -keen, skeptical, inexhaustibly fertile in distinctions and objections; -his taste refined; his sense of the ludicrous exquisite; his temper -placid and forgiving, but fastidious, and by no means prone either to -malevolence or to enthusiastic admiration. Such a man could not long be -constant to any band of political allies. He must not, however, be -confounded with the vulgar crowd of renegades. For though, like them, he -passed from side to side, his transition was always in the direction -opposite to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_325" id="page_325">{325}</a></span> theirs. He had nothing in common with those who fly from -extreme to extreme, and who regard the party which they have deserted -with an animosity far exceeding that of consistent enemies. His place -was on the debatable ground between the hostile divisions of the -community, and he never wandered far beyond the frontier of either. The -party to which he at any moment belonged was the party which, at that -moment, he liked least, because it was the party of which at that moment -he had the nearest view. He was, therefore, always severe upon his -violent associates, and was always in friendly relations with his -moderate opponents. Every faction in the day of its insolent and -vindictive triumph incurred his censure; and every faction, when -vanquished and persecuted, found in him a protector. To his lasting -honor it must be mentioned that he attempted to save those victims whose -fate has left the deepest stain both on the Whig and on the Tory name.</p> - -<p>He had greatly distinguished himself in opposition, and had thus drawn -on himself the royal displeasure, which was, indeed, so strong that he -was not admitted into the Council of Thirty without much difficulty and -long altercation. As soon, however, as he had obtained a footing at -court, the charms of his manner and of his conversation made him a -favorite. He was seriously alarmed by the violence of the public -discontent. He thought that liberty was for the present safe, and that -order and legitimate authority were in danger. He therefore, as was his -fashion, joined himself to the weaker side. Perhaps his conversion was -not wholly disinterested. For study and reflection, though they had -emancipated him from many vulgar prejudices, had left him a slave to -vulgar desires. Money he did not want; and there is no evidence that he -ever obtained it by any means which, in that age, even severe censors -considered as dishonorable; but rank and power had strong attractions -for him. He pretended, indeed, that he considered titles and great -offices as baits which could allure none but fools, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_326" id="page_326">{326}</a></span> he hated -business, pomp, and pageantry, and that his dearest wish was to escape -from the bustle and glitter of Whitehall to the quiet woods which -surrounded his ancient mansion in Nottinghamshire; but his conduct was -not a little at variance with his professions. In truth he wished to -command the respect at once of courtiers and of philosophers, to be -admired for attaining high dignities, and to be at the same time admired -for despising them.</p> - -<p>More than one historian has been charged with partiality to Halifax. The -truth is that the memory of Halifax is entitled in an especial manner to -the protection of history. For what distinguishes him from all other -English statesmen is this, that through a long public life, and through -frequent and violent revolutions of public feeling, he almost invariably -took that view of the great questions of his time which history has -finally adopted. He was called inconstant, because the relative position -in which he stood to the contending factions was perpetually varying. As -well might the pole star be called inconstant because it is sometimes to -the east and sometimes to the west of the pointers. To have defended the -ancient and legal constitution of the realm against a seditious populace -at one conjuncture, and against a tyrannical government at another; to -have been the foremost champion of order in the turbulent Parliament of -1680, and the foremost champion of liberty in the servile Parliament of -1685; to have been just and merciful to Roman Catholics in the days of -the Popish Plot, and to Exclusionists in the days of the Rye House Plot; -to have done all in his power to save both the head of Strafford and the -head of Russell; this was a course which contemporaries, heated by -passion, and deluded by names and badges, might not unnaturally call -fickle, but which deserves a very different name from the late justice -of posterity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_327" id="page_327">{327}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="LOUIS_XIV_OF_FRANCE" id="LOUIS_XIV_OF_FRANCE"></a>LOUIS XIV OF FRANCE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Grandson of Henry IV, the greatest of the French Bourbon kings, -though he himself was also called Le Grand, or The Great. Born -1638, died 1715. His reign was distinguished for the brilliant men -he gathered at his court and the unparalleled reverses which befell -his power and prosperity in his closing years.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> reign of Louis XIV is the time to which ultra-royalists refer as the -golden age of France. It was, in truth, one of those periods which shine -with an unnatural and delusive splendor. Concerning Louis XIV himself, -the world seems at last to have formed a correct judgment. He was not a -great general; he was not a great statesman; but he was, in one sense of -the word, a great king. Never was there so consummate a master of what -our James I would have called kingcraft—of all those arts which most -advantageously display the merits of a prince and most completely hide -his defects. Though his internal administration was bad, though military -triumphs which gave splendor to the early part of his reign were not -achieved by himself, though his later years were crowded with defeats -and humiliations, though he was so ignorant that he scarcely understood -the Latin of his mass-book, though he fell under the control of a -cunning Jesuit and of a more cunning old woman, he succeeded in passing -himself off on his people as a being above humanity.</p> - -<p>And this is the more extraordinary, because he did not seclude himself -from the public gaze, like those Oriental despots whose faces are never -seen, and whose very names it is a crime to pronounce lightly. It has -been said that no man is a hero to his valet; and all the world saw as -much of Louis XIV as his valet could see. Five hundred people assembled -to see him shave and put on his breeches in the morning. He then knelt -down by the side of his bed and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_328" id="page_328">{328}</a></span> said his prayer, the ecclesiastics on -their knees and the laymen with their hats before their faces. He walked -about his garden with a train of two hundred courtiers at his heels. All -Versailles came to see him dine and sup. He was put to bed at night in -the midst of a crowd as great as that which had met to see him rise in -the morning. He took his very emetics in state, and vomited majestically -in the presence of all the <i>grandes</i> and <i>petites entrées</i>. Yet, though -he constantly exposed himself to the public gaze in situations in which -it is scarcely possible for any man to preserve much personal dignity, -he to the last impressed those who surrounded him with deepest awe and -reverence. The illusion which he produced on his worshipers can be -compared only to those illusions to which lovers are proverbially -subject during the season of courtship; it was an illusion which -affected even the senses.</p> - -<p>The contemporaries of Louis thought him tall. Voltaire, who might have -seen him, and who had lived with some of the most distinguished members -of his court, speaks repeatedly of his majestic stature. Yet it is as -certain as any fact can be that he was rather below than above the -middle size. He had, it seems, a way of holding himself, a way of -walking, a way of swelling his chest and rearing his head, which -deceived the eyes of the multitude. Eighty years after his death the -royal cemetery was violated by the revolutionists; his coffin was -opened, his body was dragged out, and it appeared that the prince whose -majestic figure had been so extolled was, in truth, a little man. His -person and his government have had the same fate. He had the art of -making both appear grand and august, in spite of the clearest evidence -that both were below the ordinary standard. Death and time have exposed -both the deceptions. The body of the great king has been measured more -justly than it was measured by the courtiers who were afraid to look -above his shoe-tie. His public character has been scrutinized by men -free from the hopes and fears of Boileau and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_329" id="page_329">{329}</a></span> Molière. In the grave the -most majestic of princes is only five feet eight. In history the hero -and the politician dwindles into a vain and feeble tyrant, the slave of -priests and women; little in war, little in government, little in -everything but the art of simulating greatness.</p> - -<p>He left to his infant successor a famished and miserable people, a -beaten and humbled army, provinces turned into deserts by misgovernment -and persecution, factions dividing the court, a schism raging in the -Church, an immense debt, an empty treasury, immeasurable palaces, an -innumerable household, inestimable palaces and furniture. All the sap -and nutriment of the state seemed to have been drawn to feed one bloated -and unwholesome excrescence. The nation was withered. The court was -morbidly flourishing. Yet it does not appear that the associations which -attached the people to the monarchy had lost strength during his reign. -He had neglected or sacrificed their dearest interests, but he had -struck their imaginations.</p> - -<h2><a name="WILLIAM_III_OF_ENGLAND" id="WILLIAM_III_OF_ENGLAND"></a>WILLIAM III OF ENGLAND.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[William Henry of Nassau, Prince of Orange and Stadtholder of -Holland, born 1650, raised to the English throne as king consort -with Mary daughter of James II, in 1688, died 1702. One of the -ablest monarchs in English annals, his accession to the throne of -Great Britain was one of the turning points in modern history, and -effectually consummated those reforms in the English Constitution -inaugurated in the revolution of 1640.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> place which William Henry, Prince of Orange-Nassau, occupies in the -history of England and of mankind is so great that it may be desirable -to portray with some minuteness the strong lineaments of his -character.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p> - -<p>He was now in his thirty-seventh year. But both in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_330" id="page_330">{330}</a></span> body and in mind he -was older than other men of the same age. Indeed, it might be said that -he had never been young. His external appearance is almost as well known -to us as to his own captains and counselors. Sculptors, painters, and -medallists exerted their utmost skill in the work of transmitting his -features to posterity; and his features were such that no artist could -fail to seize, and such as, once seen, could never be forgotten. His -name at once calls up before us a slender and feeble frame, a lofty and -ample forehead, a nose curved like the beak of an eagle, an eye rivaling -that of an eagle in brightness and keenness, a thoughtful and somewhat -sullen brow, a firm and somewhat peevish mouth, a cheek pale, thin, and -deeply furrowed by sickness and by care. That pensive, severe, and -solemn aspect could scarcely have belonged to a happy or a good-humored -man. But it indicates in a manner not to be mistaken capacity equal to -the most arduous enterprises, and fortitude not to be shaken by reverses -or dangers.</p> - -<p>Nature had largely endowed William with the qualities of a great ruler, -and education had developed those qualities in no common degree. With -strong natural sense, and rare force of will, he found himself, when -first his mind began to open, a fatherless and motherless child, the -chief of a great but depressed and disheartened party, and the heir to -vast and indefinite pretensions, which excited the dread and aversion of -the oligarchy then supreme in the United Provinces. The common people, -fondly attached during three generations to his house, indicated, -whenever they saw him, in a manner not to be mistaken, that they -regarded him as their rightful head. The able and experienced ministers -of the republic, mortal enemies of his name, came every day to pay their -feigned civilities to him, and to observe the progress of his mind. The -first movements of his ambition were carefully watched; every unguarded -word uttered by him was noted down; nor had he near him any adviser on -whose judgment reliance could be placed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_331" id="page_331">{331}</a></span></p> - -<p>He was scarcely fifteen years old when all the domestics who were -attached to his interest, or who enjoyed any share of his confidence, -were removed from under his roof by the jealous government. He -remonstrated with energy beyond his years, but in vain. Vigilant -observers saw the tears more than once rise in the eyes of the young -state prisoner. His health, naturally delicate, sank for a time under -the emotions which his desolate situation had produced. Such situations -bewilder and unnerve the weak, but call forth all the strength of the -strong. Surrounded by snares in which an ordinary youth would have -perished, William learned to tread at once warily and firmly. Long -before he reached manhood he knew how to keep secrets, how to baffle -curiosity by dry and guarded answers; how to conceal all passions under -the same show of grave tranquillity. Meanwhile he made little -proficiency in fashionable or literary accomplishments. The manners of -the Dutch nobility of that age wanted the grace which was found in the -highest perfection among the gentlemen of France, and which, in an -inferior degree, embellished the court of England; and his manners were -altogether Dutch. Even his countrymen thought him blunt. To foreigners -he often seemed churlish. In his intercourse with the world in general -he appeared ignorant or negligent of those arts which double the value -of a favor and take away the sting of a refusal. He was little -interested in letters or science. The discoveries of Newton and -Liebnitz, the poems of Dryden and Boileau, were unknown to him. Dramatic -performances tired him, and he was glad to turn away from the stage and -to talk about public affairs, while Orestes was raving, or while -Tartuffe was pressing Elmira’s hand.</p> - -<p>He had, indeed, some talent for sarcasm, and not seldom employed, quite -unconsciously, a natural rhetoric, quaint, indeed, but vigorous and -original. He did not, however, in the least affect the character of a -wit or of an orator. His attention had been confined to those studies -which form<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_332" id="page_332">{332}</a></span> strenuous and sagacious men of business. From a child he -listened with interest when high questions of alliance, finance, and war -were discussed. Of geometry he learned as much as was necessary for the -construction of a ravelin or a horn-work. Of languages, by the help of a -memory singularly powerful, he learned as much as was necessary to -enable him to comprehend and answer without assistance everything that -was said to him and every letter which he received. The Dutch was his -own tongue. With the French he was not less familiar. He understood -Latin, Italian, and Spanish. He spoke and wrote English and German, -inelegantly, it is true, and inexactly, but fluently and intelligibly. -No qualification could be more important to a man whose life was to be -passed in organizing great alliances, and in commanding armies assembled -from different countries.</p> - -<p>The faculties which are necessary for the conduct of important business -ripened in him at a time of life when they have scarcely begun to -blossom in ordinary men. Since Octavius the world had seen no such -instance of precocious statesmanship. Skillful diplomatists were -surprised to hear the weighty observations which at seventeen the prince -made on public affairs, and still more surprised to see a lad, in -situations in which he might have been expected to betray strong -passion, preserve a composure as imperturbable as their own. At eighteen -he sat among the fathers of the commonwealth—grave, discreet, and -judicious as the oldest among them. At twenty-one, in a day of gloom and -terror, he was placed at the head of the administration. At twenty-three -he was renowned throughout Europe as a soldier and a politician. He had -put domestic factions under his feet; he was the soul of a mighty -coalition; and he had contended with honor in the field against some of -the greatest generals of the age.</p> - -<p>His personal tastes were those rather of a warrior than of a statesman, -but he, like his great-grandfather, the silent<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_333" id="page_333">{333}</a></span> prince who founded the -Batavian commonwealth, occupies a far higher place among statesmen than -among warriors. The event of battles, indeed, is not an unfailing test -of the abilities of a commander; and it would be peculiarly unjust to -apply this test to William, for it was his fortune to be almost always -opposed to captains who were consummate masters of their art, and to -troops far superior in discipline to his own. Yet there is reason to -believe that he was by no means equal, as a general in the field, to -some who ranked far below him in intellectual powers. To those whom he -trusted he spoke on this subject with the magnanimous frankness of a man -who had done great things, and could well afford to acknowledge some -deficiencies. He had never, he said, served an apprenticeship to the -military profession. He had been placed, while still a boy, at the head -of an army. Among his officers there had been none competent to instruct -him. His own blunders and their consequences had been his only lessons. -“I would give,” he once exclaimed, “a good part of my estates to have -served a few campaigns under the Prince of Condé before I had to command -against him.”</p> - -<p>It is not improbable that the circumstance which prevented William from -attaining any eminent dexterity in strategy may have been favorable to -the general vigor of his intellect. If his battles were not those of a -great tactician, they entitled him to be called a great man. No disaster -could for one moment deprive him of his firmness or of the entire -possession of all his faculties. His defeats were repaired with such -marvelous celerity that, before his enemies had sung the Te Deum, he was -again ready for the conflict; nor did his adverse fortune ever deprive -him of the respect and confidence of his soldiers. That respect and -confidence he owed in no small measure to his personal courage. Courage, -in the degree which is necessary to carry a soldier without disgrace -through a campaign, is possessed, or might, under proper training, be -acquired by the great majority of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_334" id="page_334">{334}</a></span> men. But courage like that of William -is rare indeed. He was proved by every test; by war, by wounds, by -painful and depressing maladies, by raging seas, by the imminent and -constant risk of assassination—a risk which has shaken very strong -nerves, a risk which severely tried even the adamantine fortitude of -Cromwell. Yet none could ever discover what that thing was which the -Prince of Orange feared. His advisers could with difficulty induce him -to take any precaution against the pistols and daggers of conspirators. -Old sailors were amazed at the composure which he preserved amid roaring -breakers on a perilous coast. In battle his bravery made him conspicuous -even among tens of thousands of brave warriors, drew forth the generous -applause of hostile armies, and was scarcely ever questioned even by the -injustice of hostile factions.</p> - -<p>During his first campaigns he exposed himself like a man who sought for -death, was always foremost in the charge and last in the retreat, fought -sword in hand, in the thickest press, and with a musket ball in his arm -and the blood streaming over his cuirass, still stood his ground and -waved his hat under the hottest fire. His friends adjured him to take -more care of a life invaluable to his country; and his most illustrious -antagonist, the great Condé, remarked, after the bloody day of Seneff, -that the Prince of Orange had in all things borne himself like an old -general, except in exposing himself like a young soldier. William denied -that he was guilty of temerity. It was, he said, from a sense of duty -and on a cool calculation of what the public interest required, that he -was always at the post of danger. The troops which he commanded had been -little used to war, and shrank from a close encounter with the veteran -soldiery of France. It was necessary that their leader should show them -how battles were to be won. And in truth more than one day which had -seemed hopelessly lost was retrieved by the hardihood with which he -rallied his broken battalions and cut down the cowards who set the -example of flight. Sometimes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_335" id="page_335">{335}</a></span> however, it seemed that he had a strange -pleasure in venturing his person. It was remarked that his spirits were -never so high and his manners never so gracious and easy as amid the -tumult and carnage of a battle. Even in his pastimes he liked the -excitement of danger. Cards, chess, and billiards gave him no pleasure. -The chase was his favorite recreation, and he loved it most when it was -most hazardous. His leaps were sometimes such that his boldest -companions did not like to follow him. He seemed to have thought the -most hardy field sports of England effeminate, and to have pined in the -great park of Windsor for the game which he had been used to drive to -bay in the forests of Guelders—wolves and wild boars, and huge stags -with sixteen antlers.</p> - -<p>The audacity of his spirit was the more remarkable because his physical -organization was unusually delicate. From a child he had been weak and -sickly. In the prime of manhood his complaints had been aggravated by a -severe attack of small-pox. He was asthmatic and consumptive. His -slender frame was shaken by a constant hoarse cough. He could not sleep -unless his head was propped by several pillows, and could scarcely draw -his breath in any but the purest air. Cruel headaches frequently -tortured him. Exertion soon fatigued him. The physicians constantly kept -up the hopes of his enemies by fixing some date beyond which, if there -were anything certain in medical science, it was impossible that his -broken constitution could hold out. Yet, through a life which was one -long disease, the force of his mind never failed, on any great occasion, -to bear up his suffering and languid body.</p> - -<p>He was born with violent passions and quick sensibilities; but the -strength of his emotions was not suspected by the world. From the -multitude his joy and his grief, his affection and his resentment, were -hidden by a phlegmatic serenity which made him pass for the most -coldblooded of mankind. Those who brought him good news could seldom<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_336" id="page_336">{336}</a></span> -detect any sign of pleasure. Those who saw him after a defeat looked in -vain for any trace of vexation. He praised and reprimanded, rewarded and -punished, with the stern tranquillity of a Mohawk chief; but those who -knew him well and saw him near were aware that under all this ice a -fierce fire was constantly burning. It was seldom that anger deprived -him of power over himself; but when he was really enraged the first -outbreak of his passion was terrible. It was, indeed, scarcely safe to -approach him. On these rare occasions, however, as soon as he regained -his self-command he made such ample reparation to those whom he had -wronged as tempted them to wish that he would go into a fury again. His -affection was as impetuous as his wrath. Where he loved, he loved with -the whole energy of his strong mind. When death separated him from what -he loved, the few who witnessed his agonies trembled for his reason and -his life. To a very small circle of intimate friends, on whose fidelity -and secrecy he could absolutely depend, he was a different man from the -reserved and stoical William whom the multitude supposed to be destitute -of human feelings. He was kind, cordial, open, even convivial and -jocose, would sit at table many hours, and would bear his full share in -festive conversation.</p> - -<p>To him England was always a land of exile, visited with reluctance, and -quitted with delight. Even when he rendered to her those services of -which to this day we feel the happy effects, her welfare was not his -chief object. Whatever patriotic feeling he had was for Holland. There -was the stately tomb where slept the great politician whose blood, whose -name, whose temperament, and whose genius he had inherited. There the -very sound of his title was a spell which had, through three -generations, called forth the affectionate enthusiasm of boors and -artisans. The Dutch language was the language of his nursery. Among the -Dutch gentry he had chosen his early friends. The amusements, the -architecture, the landscape of his native country<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_337" id="page_337">{337}</a></span> had taken hold on his -heart. To her he turned with constant fondness from a prouder and fairer -rival. In the gallery of Whitehall he pined for the familiar House in -the Wood at the Hague, and never was so happy as when he could quit the -magnificence of Windsor for his far humbler seat at Loo.</p> - -<p>During his splendid banishment it was his consolation to create around -him, by building, planting, and digging, a scene which might remind him -of the formal piles of red brick, of the long canals, and of the -symmetrical flower-beds among which his early life had been passed. Yet -even his affection for the land of his birth was subordinate to another -feeling which early became supreme in his soul, which mixed itself with -all his passions, which impelled him to marvelous enterprises, which -supported him when sinking under mortification, pain, sickness, and -sorrow, which, toward the close of his career, seemed during a short -time to languish, but which soon broke forth again fiercer than ever, -and continued to animate him even while the prayer for the departing was -read at his bedside. That feeling was enmity to France, and to the -magnificent king who, in more than one sense, represented France, and -who to virtues and accomplishments eminently French joined in large -measure that unquiet, unscrupulous, and vainglorious ambition which has -repeatedly drawn on France the resentment of Europe.</p> - -<p>It is not difficult to trace the progress of the sentiment which -gradually possessed itself of William’s whole soul. When he was little -more than a boy his country had been attacked by Lewis in ostentatious -defiance of justice and public law, had been overrun, had been -desolated, had been given up to every excess of rapacity, -licentiousness, and cruelty. The Dutch had in dismay humbled themselves -before the conqueror, and had implored mercy. They had been told in -reply that, if they desired peace, they must resign their independence, -and do annual homage to the House of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_338" id="page_338">{338}</a></span> Bourbon. The injured nation, -driven to despair, had opened its dykes, and had called in the sea as an -ally against the French tyranny. It was in the agony of that conflict, -when peasants were flying in terror before the invaders, when hundreds -of fair gardens and pleasure-houses were buried beneath the waves, when -the deliberations of the States were interrupted by the fainting and the -loud weeping of ancient senators who could not bear the thought of -surviving the freedom and glory of their native land, that William had -been called to the head of affairs.</p> - -<p>The French monarchy was to him what the Roman republic was to Hannibal, -what the Ottoman power was to Scanderbeg, what the Southron domination -was to Wallace. Religion gave her sanction to that intense and -unquenchable animosity. Hundreds of Calvinistic preachers proclaimed -that the same power which had set apart Samson from the womb to be the -scourge of the Philistine, and which had called Gideon from the -threshing-floor to smite the Midianite, had raised up William of Orange -to be the champion of all free nations and of all pure Churches; nor was -this notion without influence on his own mind. To the confidence which -the heroic fatalist placed in his high destiny and in his sacred cause -is to be partly attributed his singular indifference to danger. He had a -great work to do; and till it was done nothing could harm him. Therefore -it was that, in spite of the prognostications of physicians, he -recovered from maladies which seemed hopeless, that bands of assassins -conspired in vain against his life, that the open skiff to which he -trusted himself on a starless night, amid raging waves, and near a -treacherous shore, brought him safe to land, and that, on twenty fields -of battle, the cannon balls passed him by to right and left. The ardor -and perseverance with which he devoted himself to his mission have -scarcely any parallel in history.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_015" style="width: 443px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp339.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp339.jpg" width="443" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>PETER THE GREAT.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_339" id="page_339">{339}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="PETER_THE_GREAT_CZAR_OF_RUSSIA" id="PETER_THE_GREAT_CZAR_OF_RUSSIA"></a>PETER THE GREAT, CZAR OF RUSSIA.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Creator of the modern Russian empire, born 1672; died 1725. -Shortly after assuming the throne of a nation of barbarians, and -vigorously repressing internal disturbances, he began that series -of reforms by which he hoped to civilize his people. He spent -seventeen months traveling and studying the arts and sciences, -which had made other nations great. On returning to Russia he -enforced many revolutionary changes with the strictness of a -despot, and introduced institutions before unknown to Russia. He -built St. Petersburg in the marshes at the mouth of the Neva, and -displayed extraordinary energy in recasting the whole military and -civil polity of the nation. He displayed marked ability as a -soldier in his wars with his neighbors, but his genius shone most -brightly in civil administration, though he never ceased to be a -barbarian and the sternest of despots.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Our</span> ancestors were not a little surprised to learn that a young -barbarian, who had, at seventeen years of age, become the autocrat of -the immense region stretching from the confines of Sweden to those of -China, and whose education had been inferior to that of an English -farmer or shopman, had planned gigantic improvements, had learned enough -of some languages of Western Europe to enable him to communicate with -civilized men, had begun to surround himself with able adventurers from -various parts of the world, had sent many of his young subjects to study -languages, arts, and sciences in foreign cities, and finally had -determined to travel as a private man, and to discover, by personal -observation, the secret of the immense prosperity and power enjoyed by -some communities whose whole territory was far less than the hundredth -part of his dominions.</p> - -<p>It might have been expected that France would have been the first object -of his curiosity. For the grace and dignity of the French Court, the -splendor of the French Court, the discipline of the French armies, and -the genius<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_340" id="page_340">{340}</a></span> and learning of the French writers, were then renowned all -over the world. But the Czar’s mind had early taken a strange ply which -it retained to the last. His empire was of all empires the least capable -of being made a great naval power. The Swedish provinces lay between his -states and the Baltic. The Bosphorus and the Dardanelles lay between his -states and the Mediterranean. He had access to the ocean only in a -latitude in which navigation is, during a great part of every year, -perilous and difficult. On the ocean he had only a single port, -Archangel; and the whole shipping of Archangel was foreign. There did -not exist a Russian vessel larger than a fishing boat. Yet, from some -cause which can not now be traced, he had a taste for maritime pursuits -which amounted to a passion, indeed almost to a monomania. His -imagination was full of sails, yardarms, and rudders. That large mind, -equal to the highest duties of the general and the statesman, contracted -itself to the most minute details of naval architecture and naval -discipline.</p> - -<p>The chief ambition of the great conqueror and legislator was to be a -good boatswain and a good ship’s carpenter. Holland and England -therefore had for him an attraction which was wanting to the galleries -and terraces of Versailles. He repaired to Amsterdam, took a lodging in -the dockyard, assumed the garb of a pilot, put down his name on the list -of workmen, wielded with his own hand the caulking iron and the mallet, -fixed the pumps, and twisted the ropes. Ambassadors who came to pay -their respects to him were forced, much against their will, to clamber -up the rigging of a man-of-war, and found him enthroned on the -cross-trees.</p> - -<p>Such was the prince whom the populace of London now crowded to behold. -His stately form, his intellectual forehead, his piercing black eye, his -Tartar nose and mouth, his gracious smile, his frown black with all the -stormy rage and hate of a barbarian tyrant, and above all a strange -nervous<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_341" id="page_341">{341}</a></span> convulsion which sometimes transformed his countenance, during -a few moments, into an object on which it was impossible to look without -terror, the immense quantities of meat which he devoured, the pints of -brandy which he swallowed, and which, it was said, he had carefully -distilled with his own hands, the fool who jabbered at his feet, the -monkey which grinned at the back of his chair, were, during some weeks, -popular topics of conversation. He meanwhile shunned the public gaze -with a haughty shyness which inflamed curiosity. He went to a play; but -as soon as he perceived that pit, boxes, and gallery were staring, not -at the stage, but at him, he retired to a back bench where he was -screened from observation by his attendants. He was desirous to see a -sitting of the House of Lords; but, as he was determined not to be seen, -he was forced to climb up to the leads, and to peep through a small -window. He heard with great interest the royal assent given to a bill -for raising fifteen hundred thousand pounds by land-tax, and learned -with amazement that this sum, though larger by one half than the whole -revenue which he could wring from the population of the immense empire -of which he was absolute master, was but a small part of what the -Commons of England voluntarily granted every year to their -constitutional king.</p> - -<p>William judiciously humored the whims of his illustrious guest, and -stole to Norfolk Street so quietly that nobody in the neighborhood -recognized his Majesty in the thin gentleman who got out of the -modest-looking coach at the czar’s lodgings. The czar returned the visit -with the same precautions, and was admitted into Kensington House by a -back door. It was afterward known that he took no notice of the fine -pictures with which the palace was adorned. But over the chimney of the -royal sitting-room was a plate which, by an ingenious machinery, -indicated the direction of the wind, and with this plate he was in -raptures.</p> - -<p>He soon became weary of his residence. He found that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_342" id="page_342">{342}</a></span> he was too far -from the objects of his curiosity, and too near to the crowds to which -he was himself an object of curiosity. He accordingly removed to -Deptford, and was there lodged in the house of John Evelyn, a house -which had long been a favorite resort of men of letters, men of taste, -and men of science. Here Peter gave himself up to his favorite pursuits. -He navigated a yacht every day up and down the river. His apartment was -crowded with models of three-deckers and two-deckers, frigates, sloops, -and fire-ships. The only Englishman of rank in whose society he seemed -to take much pleasure was the eccentric Caermarthen, whose passion for -the sea bore some resemblance to his own, and who was very competent to -give an opinion about every part of a ship from the stem to the stern. -Caermarthen, indeed, became so great a favorite that he prevailed on the -czar to consent to the admission of a limited quantity of tobacco into -Russia. There was reason to apprehend that the Russian clergy would cry -out against any relaxation of the ancient rule, and would strenuously -maintain that the practice of smoking was condemned by that text which -declares that man is defiled, not by those things which enter in at the -mouth, but by those things which proceed out of it. This apprehension -was expressed by a deputation of merchants who were admitted to an -audience of the czar; but they were reassured by the air with which he -told them that he knew how to keep priests in order.</p> - -<p>He was indeed so free from any bigoted attachment to the religion in -which he had been brought up that both Papists and Protestants hoped at -different times to make him a proselyte. Burnet, commissioned by his -brethren, and impelled, no doubt, by his own restless curiosity and love -of meddling, repaired to Deptford and was honored with several -audiences. The czar could not be persuaded to exhibit himself at St. -Paul’s, but he was induced to visit Lambeth Palace. There he saw the -ceremony of ordination performed, and expressed warm approbation of the -Anglican<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_343" id="page_343">{343}</a></span> ritual. Nothing in England astonished him so much as the -archiepiscopal library. It was the first good collection of books that -he had seen; and he declared that he had never imagined that there were -so many printed volumes in the world.</p> - -<p>The impression which he made on Burnet was not favorable. The good -bishop could not understand that a mind which seemed to be chiefly -occupied with questions about the best place for a capstan and the best -way of rigging a jury-mast might be capable, not merely of ruling an -empire, but of creating a nation. He claimed that he had gone to see a -great prince, and had found only an industrious shipwright. Nor does -Evelyn seem to have formed a much more favorable opinion of his august -tenant. It was, indeed, not in the character of tenant that the czar was -likely to gain the good word of civilized men. With all the high -qualities which were peculiar to himself, he had all the filthy habits -which were then common among his countrymen. To the end of his life, -while disciplining armies, founding schools, framing codes, organizing -tribunals, building cities in deserts, joining distant seas by -artificial rivers, he lived in his palace like a hog in a sty; and, when -he was entertained by other sovereigns, never failed to leave on their -tapestried walls and velvet state beds unequivocal proof that a savage -had been there. Evelyn’s house was left in such a state that the -Treasury quieted his complaints with a considerable sum of money.</p> - -<p>Toward the close of March the czar visited Portsmouth, saw a sham -sea-fight at Spithead, watched every movement of the contending fleets -with intense interest, and expressed in warm terms his gratitude to the -hospitable government which had provided so delightful a spectacle for -his amusement and instruction. After passing more than three months in -England, he departed in high good-humor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_344" id="page_344">{344}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="DUKE_OF_MARLBOROUGH" id="DUKE_OF_MARLBOROUGH"></a>DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, born 1650, died 1722. All his -early fortunes were due to the favor of James II, but he deserted -his patron, and his intrigues carried over a large following of the -English nobility to the cause of the Prince of Orange. For this he -was rewarded with the dukedom of Marlborough. Politically -Marlborough was a traitor to nearly every cause he served, and was -continually plotting to undermine William as he had done in the -case of James. To Anne, under whom he reaped his great military -glory, though he had distinguished himself at an earlier period, he -was probably loyal. The victories which established his place among -the leading soldiers of modern times were Blenheim, in 1704; -Ramillies, in 1706; Oudenarde, in 1708; Malplaquet, in 1709; and -the capture of Bouchain, in 1711. He achieved eminence as a -statesman and administrator as well as a soldier, but it is in the -latter capacity that he ranks among the great men of the world.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Beyond</span> comparison the greatest of English generals, Marlborough raised -his country to a height of military glory such as it had never attained -since the days of Poitiers and of Agincourt, and his victories appeared -all the more dazzling after the ignominious reigns of the last two -Stuarts, and after the many failures that checkered the enterprises of -William. His military genius, though once bitterly decried by party -malignity, will now be universally acknowledged, and it was sufficient -to place him among the greatest captains who have ever lived. Hardly any -other modern general combined to an equal degree the three great -attributes of daring, caution, and sagacity, or conducted military -enterprises of equal magnitude and duration without losing a single -battle or failing in a single siege. He was one of the very few -commanders who appear to have shown equal skill in directing a campaign, -in winning a battle, and in improving a victory. It can not, indeed, be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_345" id="page_345">{345}</a></span> -said of him, as it may be said of Frederick the Great, that he was at -the head of a small power, with almost all Europe in arms against it, -and that nearly every victory he won was snatched from an army -enormously outnumbering his own. At Blenheim and Oudenarde the French -exceeded by a few thousands the armies of the allies. At Ramillies the -army of Marlborough was slightly superior. At Malplaquet the opposing -forces were almost equal. Nor did the circumstances of Marlborough admit -of a military career of the same brilliancy, variety, and magnitude of -enterprise as that of Napoleon.</p> - -<p>But both Frederick and Napoleon experienced crushing disasters, and both -of them had some advantages which Marlborough did not possess. Frederick -was the absolute ruler of a state which had for many years been governed -exclusively on the military principle, in which the first and almost the -sole object of the government had been to train and discipline the -largest and most perfect army the nation could support. Napoleon was the -absolute ruler of the foremost military power on the Continent at a time -when the enthusiasm of a great revolution had given it an unparalleled -energy, when the destruction of the whole hierarchy of rank and the -opening of all posts to talent had brought an extraordinary amount of -ability to the forefront, and when the military administrations of -surrounding nations were singularly decrepit and corrupt. Marlborough, -on the other hand, commanded armies consisting in a great degree of -confederates and mercenaries of many different nationalities, and under -many different rulers. He was thwarted at every step by political -obstacles, and by the much graver obstacles arising from divided command -and personal or national jealousies; he contended against the first -military nation of the Continent, at a time when its military -organization had attained the highest perfection, and when a long -succession of brilliant wars had given it a school of officers of -consummate skill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_346" id="page_346">{346}</a></span></p> - -<p>But great as were his military gifts, they would have been insufficient -had they not been allied with other qualities well fitted to win the -admiration of men. Adam Smith has said, with scarcely an exaggeration, -that “it is a characteristic almost peculiar to the great Duke of -Marlborough, that ten years of such uninterrupted and such splendid -successes as scarce any other general could boast of, never betrayed him -into a single rash action, scarcely into a single rash word or -expression.” Nothing in his career is more admirable than the unwearied -patience, the inimitable skill, the courtesy, the tact, the self-command -with which he employed himself during many years in reconciling the -incessant differences, overcoming the incessant opposition, and soothing -the incessant jealousies of those with whom he was compelled to -co-operate. His private correspondence abundantly shows how gross was -the provocation he endured, how keenly he felt it, how nobly he bore it.</p> - -<p>As a negotiator he ranks with the most skillful diplomatists of his age, -and it was no doubt his great tact in managing men that induced his old -rival Bolingbroke, in one of his latest writings, to describe him as not -only the greatest general, but also “the greatest minister our country -or any other has produced.” Chesterfield, while absurdly depreciating -his intellect, admitted that “his manner was irresistible,” and he added -that, of all men he had ever known, Marlborough “possessed the graces in -the highest degree.” Nor was his character without its softer side. -Though he can not, I think, be acquitted of a desire to prolong war in -the interests of his personal or political ambition, it is at least true -that no general ever studied more, by admirable discipline and by -uniform humanity, to mitigate its horrors. Very few friendships among -great political or military leaders have been as constant or as -unclouded by any shade of jealousy as the friendship between Marlborough -and Godolphin, and between Marlborough and Eugene.</p> - -<p>His conjugal fidelity, in a time of great laxity and under<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_347" id="page_347">{347}</a></span> temptations -and provocations of no common order, was beyond reproach. His attachment -to the Church of England was at one time the great obstacle to his -advancement. It appears never to have wavered through all the -vicissitudes of his life; and no one who reads his most private letters -with candor can fail to perceive that a certain vein of genuine piety -ran through his nature, however inconsistent it may appear with some -portions of his career.</p> - -<p>Yet it may be questioned whether, even in the zenith of his fame, he was -really popular. He had grave vices, and they were precisely of that kind -which is most fatal to public men. His extreme rapacity in acquiring and -his extreme avarice in hoarding money contrasted forcibly with the -lavish generosity of Ormond, and alone gave weight to the charges of -peculation that were brought against him. It is true that this, like all -his passions, was under control. Torcy soon found that it was useless to -attempt to bribe him, and he declined, as we have seen, with little -hesitation, the enormously lucrative post of governor of the Austrian -Netherlands when he found that the appointment aroused the strong and -dangerous hostility of the Dutch. In these cases his keen and far-seeing -judgment perceived clearly his true interest, and he had sufficient -resolution to follow it. Yet still, like many men who have risen from -great poverty to great wealth, avarice was the passion of his life, and -the rapacity both of himself and of his wife was insatiable. Besides -immense grants from Blenheim and marriage portions given by the queen to -their daughters, they at one time received between them an annual income -of public money of more than sixty-four thousand pounds.</p> - -<p>Nor can he be acquitted of very gross and aggravated treachery to those -he served. It is, indeed, not easy to form a fair estimate in this -respect of the conduct of public men at the period of the revolution. -Historians rarely make sufficient allowance for the degree in which the -judgments and dispositions even of the best men are colored by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_348" id="page_348">{348}</a></span> -moral tone of the age, society, or profession in which they live, or for -the temptations of men of great genius and of natural ambition in times -when no highly scrupulous man could possibly succeed in public life. -Marlborough struggled into greatness from a very humble position, in one -of the most profligate periods of English politics, and he lived through -a long period when the ultimate succession of the crown was very -doubtful. A very large proportion of the leading statesmen during this -long season of suspense made such overtures to the deposed dynasty as -would at least secure them from absolute ruin in the event of a change, -and their conduct is surely susceptible of much palliation.</p> - -<p>The apparent interests and the apparent wishes of the nation hung so -evenly and oscillated so frequently that strong convictions were rare, -and even good men might often be in doubt. But the obligations of -Churchill to James were of no common order, and his treachery was of no -common dye. He had been raised by the special favor of his sovereign -from the position of a page to the peerage, to great wealth, to high -command in the army. He had been trusted by him with the most absolute -trust. He not only abandoned him in the crisis of his fate, with -circumstances of the most deliberate and aggravated treachery, but also -employed his influence over the daughter of his benefactor to induce her -to fly from her father and to array herself with his enemies. Such -conduct, if it had indeed been dictated, as he alleged, solely by a -regard for the interests of Protestantism, would have been certainly, in -the words of Hume, “a signal sacrifice to public virtue of every duty in -private life”; and it “required ever after the most upright, -disinterested, and public-spirited behavior, to render it justifiable.” -How little the later career of Marlborough fulfilled this condition is -well known.</p> - -<p>When we find that, having been loaded under the new Government with -titles, honors, and wealth, having been placed in the inner council and -intrusted with the most impor<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_349" id="page_349">{349}</a></span>tant state secrets, he was one of the -first Englishmen to enter into negotiations with St. Germain’s; that he -purchased his pardon from James by betraying important military secrets -to the enemies of his country, and that, during a great part of his -subsequent career, while holding office under the Government, he was -secretly negotiating with the Pretender, it is difficult not to place -the worst construction upon his public life. It is probable, indeed, -that his negotiations with the Jacobites were never sincere, that he had -no real desire for a restoration, and that his guiding motive was much -less ambition than a desire to secure what he possessed; but these -considerations only slightly palliate his conduct. At the period of his -downfall his later acts of treason were for the most part unknown, but -his conduct toward James weighed heavily upon his reputation, and his -intercourse with the Pretender, though not proved, was at least -suspected by many. Neither Hanoverians nor Jacobites trusted him, -neither Whigs nor Tories could regard him without reserve as their own.</p> - -<p>And with this feeling of distrust there was mingled a strong element of -fear. In the latter years of Queen Anne the shadow of Cromwell fell -darkly across the path of Marlborough. To those who prefer the violent -methods of a reforming despotism to the slow process of parliamentary -amelioration, to those who despise the wisdom of following public -opinion and respecting the prejudices and the associations of a nation, -there can be no better lesson than is furnished by the history of -Cromwell. Of his high and commanding abilities it is not here necessary -to speak, nor yet of the traits of magnanimity that may, no doubt, be -found in his character. Everything that great genius and the most -passionate sympathy could do to magnify these has in this century been -done, and a long period of unqualified depreciation has been followed by -a reaction of extravagant eulogy.</p> - -<p>But the more the qualities of the man are exalted the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_350" id="page_350">{350}</a></span> more significant -are the lessons of his life. Despising the national sentiment of -loyalty, he and his party dethroned and beheaded the king. Despising the -ecclesiastical sentiment, they destroyed the Church. Despising the deep -reverence for the constitution, they subverted the Parliament. Despising -the oldest and most cherished customs of the people, they sought to mold -the whole social life of England in the die of an austere Puritanism. -They seemed for a time to have succeeded, but the result soon appeared. -Republican equality was followed by the period of most obsequious, -servile loyalty England has ever known. The age when every amusement was -denounced as a crime was followed by the age when all virtue was treated -as hypocrisy, and when the sense of shame seemed to have almost vanished -from the land. The prostration of the Church was followed, with the full -approbation of the bulk of the nation, by the bitter, prolonged -persecution of Dissenters. The hated memory of the Commonwealth was for -more than a century appealed to by every statesman who desired to -prevent reform or discredit liberty, and the name of Cromwell gathered -around it an intensity of hatred approached by no other in the history -of England. This was the single sentiment common in all its vehemence to -the Episcopalians of England, the Presbyterians of Scotland, and the -Catholics of Ireland, and it had more than once considerable political -effects. The profound horror of military despotism, which is one of the -strongest and most salutary of English sentiments, has been, perhaps, -the most valuable legacy of the Commonwealth. In Marlborough, for the -first time since the restoration, men saw a possible Cromwell, and they -looked forward with alarm to the death of the queen as a period -peculiarly propitious to military usurpation. Bolingbroke never -represented more happily the feelings of the people than in the -well-known scene at the first representation of the “Cato” of Addison. -Written by a great Whig writer, the play was intended to advocate Whig<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_351" id="page_351">{351}</a></span> -sentiments; but when the Whig audience had made the theatre ring with -applause at every speech on the evil of despotism and arbitrary -principles, the Tory leader availed himself of the pause between the -acts to summon the chief actor, to present him with a purse of money, -and to thank him publicly for having defended the cause of liberty so -well against a perpetual military dictator.</p> - -<h2><a name="SIR_ROBERT_WALPOLE" id="SIR_ROBERT_WALPOLE"></a>SIR ROBERT WALPOLE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Afterward Earl of Orford, born 1676, died 1745; one of the most -powerful forces in the history of English politics. Without -brilliancy of talent, and utterly corrupt both as man and -statesman, he was in many ways a patriot and a far-sighted -supporter of the best interests of his country. He was first made -prime minister in 1715, and in 1717 brought forward a scheme for -the reduction of the public debt, which may be regarded as the -earliest germ of a national sinking fund. After the accession of -George II he became the foremost political figure of his time, and -kept his position against all attacks by great political dexterity -and the favor of Queen Caroline. He held the premiership for -twenty-one years, and was the first of the great English finance -ministers.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is worthy of notice that the long ascendency of Walpole was in no -degree owing to any extraordinary brilliancy of eloquency. He was a -clear and forcible reasoner, ready in reply, and peculiarly successful -in financial exposition, but he had little or nothing of the temperament -or the talent of an orator. It is the custom of some writers to decry -parliamentary institutions as being simply government by talking, and to -assert that when they exist mere rhetorical skill will always be more -valued than judgment, knowledge, or character. The enormous exaggeration -of such charges may be easily established. It is, no doubt, inevitable -that where business is transacted chiefly by debate, the talent of a -debater should be highly prized; but it is perfectly untrue<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_352" id="page_352">{352}</a></span> that -British legislatures have shown less skill than ordinary sovereigns in -distinguishing solid talent from mere showy accomplishments, or that -parliamentary weight has in England been usually proportioned to -oratorical power.</p> - -<p>St. John was a far greater orator than Harley; Pulteney was probably a -greater orator than Walpole; Stanley in mere rhetorical skill was -undoubtedly the superior of Peel. Godolphin, Pelham, Castlereagh, -Liverpool, Melbourne, Althorpe, Wellington, Lord J. Russell, and Lord -Palmerston are all examples of men who, either as statesmen or as -successful leaders of the House of Commons, have taken a foremost place -in English politics without any oratorical brilliancy. Sheridan, -Plunket, and Brougham, though orators of almost the highest class, left -no deep impression on English public life; the ascendancy of Grey and -Canning was very transient, and no Opposition since the early Hanoverian -period sank so low as that which was guided by Fox. The two Pitts and -Mr. Gladstone are the three examples of speakers of transcendent power -exercising for a considerable time a commanding influence over English -politics. The younger Pitt is, I believe, a real instance of a man whose -solid ability bore no kind of proportion to his oratorical skill, and -who, by an almost preternatural dexterity in debate, accompanied by -great decision of character, and assisted by the favor of the king, by -the magic of an illustrious name, and by a great national panic, -maintained an authority immensely greater than his deserts. But in this -respect he stands alone. The pinnacle of glory to which the elder Pitt -raised his country is a sufficient proof of the almost unequaled -administrative genius which he displayed in the conduct of a war; and in -the sphere of domestic policy it may be questioned whether any other -English minister since the accession of the house of Brunswick has -carried so many measures of magnitude and difficulty or exhibited so -perfect a mastery over the financial system of the country as the great -living statesman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_353" id="page_353">{353}</a></span></p> - -<p>The qualities of Walpole were very different, but it is impossible, I -think, to consider his career with adequate attention without -recognizing in him a great minister, although the merits of his -administration were often rather negative than positive, and although it -exhibits few of those dramatic incidents, and is but little susceptible -of that rhetorical coloring on which the reputation of statesmen largely -depends.</p> - -<p>Without any remarkable originality of thought or creative genius, he -possessed in a high degree one quality of a great statesman—the power -of judging new and startling events in the moments of excitement or of -panic as they would be judged by ordinary men when the excitement, the -novelty, and the panic had passed. He was eminently true to the -character of his countrymen. He discerned with a rare sagacity the lines -of policy most suited to their genius and to their needs, and he had a -sufficient ascendency in English politics to form its traditions, to -give a character and a bias to its institutions. The Whig party, under -his guidance, retained, though with diminished energy, its old love of -civil and of religious liberty, but it lost its foreign sympathies, its -tendency to extravagance, its military restlessness. The landed gentry, -and in a great degree the Church, were reconciled to the new dynasty. -The dangerous fissures which divided the English nation were filled up. -Parliamentary government lost its old violence, it entered into a period -of normal and pacific action, and the habits of compromise, of -moderation, and of practical good sense, which are most essential to its -success, were greatly strengthened.</p> - -<p>These were the great merits of Walpole. His faults were very manifest, -and are to be attributed in part to his own character, but in a great -degree to the moral atmosphere of his time. He was an honest man in the -sense of desiring sincerely the welfare of his country and serving his -sovereign with fidelity; but he was intensely wedded to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_354" id="page_354">{354}</a></span> power, -exceedingly unscrupulous about the means of grasping or retaining it, -and entirely destitute of that delicacy of honor which marks a -high-minded man. In the opinion of most of his contemporaries, Townshend -and Walpole had good reason to complain of the intrigues by which -Sunderland and Stanhope obtained the supreme power in 1717; but this -does not justify the factious manner in which Walpole opposed every -measure the new ministry brought forward—even the Mutiny Act, which was -plainly necessary to keep the army in discipline; even the repeal of the -Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts, though he had himself denounced -those acts as more like laws of Julian the Apostate than of a Christian -legislature.</p> - -<p>He was sincerely tolerant in his disposition, and probably did as much -for the benefit of the Dissenters as could have been done without -producing a violent and dangerous reaction of opinion; but he took no -measure to lighten the burden of the Irish penal code, and he had no -scruple in availing himself of the strong feeling against the English -Catholics and non-jurors to raise one hundred thousand pounds, by a -special tax upon their estates, or in promising the Dissenters that he -would obtain the repeal of the Test Act, when he had no serious -intention of doing so. He warned the country faithfully against the -South Sea scheme, but when his warning was disregarded he proceeded to -speculate skillfully and successfully in it himself. He labored long and -earnestly to prevent the Spanish war, which he knew to be eminently -impolitic; but when the clamors of his opponents had made it inevitable -he determined that he would still remain at the helm, and he accordingly -declared it himself. He governed the country mildly and wisely, but he -was resolved at all hazards to secure for himself a complete monopoly of -power; he steadily opposed the reconciliation of the Tories with the -Hanoverian dynasty, lest it should impair his ascendancy, surrounded -himself with colleagues whose faculties rarely rose above the tamest -medi<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_355" id="page_355">{355}</a></span>ocrity, drove from power every man of real talent who might -possibly become his rival, and especially repelled young men of promise, -character, and ambition, whom a provident statesman, desirous of -perpetuating his policy beyond his lifetime, would especially seek to -attract.</p> - -<p>The scandal and also the evil effects of his political vices were -greatly increased by that total want of decorum which Burke has justly -noted as the weakest point of his character. In this respect his public -and private life resembled one another. That he lived for many years in -open adultery and indulged to excess in the pleasures of the table were -facts which in the early part of the eighteenth century were in -themselves not likely to excite much attention; but his boisterous -revelries at Houghton exceeded even the ordinary license of the country -squires of his time, and the gross sensuality of his conversation was -conspicuous in one of the coarsest periods of English history. When he -did not talk of business, it was said, he talked of women; politics and -obscenity were his tastes. There seldom was a court less addicted to -prudery than that of George II, but even its tolerance was somewhat -strained by a minister who jested with the queen upon the infidelity of -her husband; who advised her on one occasion to bring to court a -beautiful but silly woman as a “safe fool” for the king to fall in love -with; who, on the death of the queen, urged her daughters to summon -without delay the two mistresses of the king in order to distract the -mind of their father; who at the same time avowed, with a brutal -frankness, as the scheme of his future policy, that though he had been -for the wife against the mistress, he would be henceforth for the -mistress against the daughters.</p> - -<p>In society he had the weakness of wishing to be thought a man of -gallantry and fashion, and his awkward addresses, rendered the more -ludicrous by a singularly corpulent and ungraceful person, as well as -the extreme coarseness into which he usually glided when speaking to and -of women,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_356" id="page_356">{356}</a></span> drew down upon him much ridicule and some contempt. His -estimate of political integrity was very similar to his estimate of -female virtue. He governed by means of an assembly which was saturated -with corruption, and he fully acquiesced in its conditions and resisted -every attempt to improve it. He appears to have cordially accepted the -maxim that government must be carried on by corruption or by force, and -he deliberately made the former the basis of his rule. He bribed George -II by obtaining for him a civil list exceeding by more than one hundred -thousand pounds a year that of his father. He bribed the queen by -securing for her a jointure of one hundred thousand pounds a year, when -his rival, Sir Spencer Compton, could only venture to promise sixty -thousand pounds. He bribed the dissenting ministers to silence by the -Regium Donum for the benefit of their widows. He employed the vast -patronage of the crown uniformly and steadily with the single view of -sustaining his political position, and there can be no doubt that a -large proportion of the immense expenditure of secret-service money -during his administration was devoted to the direct purchase of members -of Parliament.</p> - -<p>His influence upon young men appears to have been peculiarly pernicious. -If we may believe Chesterfield, he was accustomed to ask them in a tone -of irony upon their entrance into Parliament whether they too were going -to be saints or Romans, and he employed all the weight of his position -to make them regard purity and patriotism as ridiculous or unmanly. Of -the next generation of statesmen, Fox, the first Lord Holland,<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> was -the only man of remarkable ability who can be said to have been his -disciple, and he was, perhaps, the most corrupt and unscrupulous of the -statesmen of his age.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_016" style="width: 444px;"> -<a href="images/i_fp357.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_fp357.jpg" width="444" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>FREDERICK THE GREAT.</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_357" id="page_357">{357}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="FREDERICK_THE_GREAT" id="FREDERICK_THE_GREAT"></a>FREDERICK THE GREAT.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS CARLYLE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Otherwise Frederick II, third king of Prussia, son of Frederick -William I, and grandson of George I of England, born 1712, died -1786. Regarded in his youth, before his accession to the throne, as -a spendthrift and voluptuary or as a prince of weak and vacillating -character, his accession to the throne in 1740 instantly brought -out his true character as the most able and masterful of rulers. -His protracted wars with odds against him, often of four to one, in -which he fought the banded armies of Europe, stamped him as a -soldier of splendid genius and iron tenacity of endurance and -purpose. During the Seven Years’ War he stood with only five -million subjects against a hundred million. On the declaration of -peace he devoted himself, with the same energy, to the restoration -of the commerce, agriculture, and industries of Prussia as that -with which he had fought her enemies, and with as much success. -Frederick was not only a great soldier and civil administrator, -though on somewhat despotic lines, but keenly sympathetic with -literature, art, and science. All these he encouraged and fostered -by every means. He was the true founder of the Prussian monarchy.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">About</span> fourscore years ago there used to be seen sauntering on the -terraces of Sans Souci, for a short time in the afternoon, or you might -have met him elsewhere at an earlier hour, riding or driving in a rapid -business manner on the open roads or through the scraggy woods and -avenues of that intricate amphibious Potsdam region, a highly -interesting lean little old man, of alert though slightly stooping -figure, whose name among strangers was King <i>Friedrich the Second</i>, or -Frederick the Great of Prussia, and at home among the common people, who -much loved and esteemed him, was <i>Vater Fritz</i>—Father Fred—a name of -familiarity which had not bred contempt in that instance. He is a king, -every inch of him, though without the trappings of a king. Presents -himself in a Spartan simplicity of vesture; no crown but an old military -cocked hat—gen<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_358" id="page_358">{358}</a></span>erally old, or trampled and kneaded into absolute -<i>softness</i> if new—no scepter but one like Agamemnon’s, a walking-stick -cut from the woods, which serves also as a riding-stick (with which he -hits the horse “between the ears,” say authors)—and for royal robes, a -mere soldier’s blue coat with red facings, coat likely to be old, and -sure to have a good deal of Spanish snuff on the breast of it; rest of -the apparel dim, unobtrusive in color or cut, ending in high overknee -military boots, which may be brushed (and, I hope, kept soft with an -underhand suspicion of oil), but are not permitted to be blackened or -varnished; Day and Martin with their soot-pots forbidden to approach.</p> - -<p>The man is not of godlike physiognomy, any more than of imposing stature -or costume; close-shut mouth with thin lips, prominent jaws and nose, -receding brow, by no means of Olympian height; head, however, is of long -form, and has superlative gray eyes in it. Not what is called a -beautiful man; nor yet, by all appearance, what is called a happy. On -the contrary, the face bears evidence of many sorrows, as they are -termed, of much hard labor done in this world, and seems to anticipate -nothing but more still coming. Quiet stoicism, capable enough of what -joys there were, but not expecting any worth mention; great unconscious -and some conscious pride, well tempered with a cheery mockery of -humor—are written on that old face, which carries its chin well -forward, in spite of the slight stoop about the neck; snuffy nose, -rather flung into the air, under its old cocked hat—like an old snuffy -lion on the watch; and such a pair of eyes as no man or lion or lynx of -that century bore elsewhere, according to all the testimony we have.</p> - -<p>“Those eyes,” says Mirabeau, “which, at the bidding of his great soul, -fascinated you with seduction or with terror (<i>portaient, au gré de son -âme héroïque, la séduction ou la terreur</i>).” Most excellent potent -brilliant eyes, swift-darting as the stars, steadfast as the sun; gray, -we said, of the azure-gray color; large enough, not of glaring size; -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_359" id="page_359">{359}</a></span> habitual expression of them vigilance and penetrating sense, -rapidity resting on depth, which is an excellent combination, and gives -us the notion of a lambent outer radiance springing from some great -inner sea of light and fire in the man.</p> - -<p>The voice, if he speak to you, is of similar physiognomy—clear, -melodious, and sonorous; all tones are in it, from that of ingenuous -inquiry, graceful sociality, light-flowing banter (rather prickly for -most part), up to definite word of command, up to desolating word of -rebuke and reprobation; a voice “the clearest and most agreeable in -conversation I ever heard,” says witty Dr. Moore. “He speaks a great -deal,” continues the doctor, “yet those who hear him regret that he does -not speak a good deal more. His observations are always lively, very -often just, and few men possess the talent of repartee in greater -perfection.”</p> - -<p>This was a man of infinite mark to his contemporaries, who had witnessed -surprising feats from him in the world; very questionable notions and -ways, which he had contrived to maintain against the world and its -criticisms, as an original man has always to do, much more an original -ruler of men. The world, in fact, had tried hard to put him down, as it -does, unconsciously or consciously, with all such, and after the most -conscious exertions, and at one time a dead-lift spasm of all its -energies for seven years, had not been able. Principalities and powers, -imperial, royal, czarish, papal, enemies innumerable as the sea-sand, -had risen against him, only one helper left among the world’s potentates -(and that one only while there should be help rendered in return), and -he led them all such a dance as had astonished mankind and them.</p> - -<p>No wonder they thought him worthy of notice! Every original man of any -magnitude is—nay, in the long run, who or what else is? But how much -more if your original man was a king over men; whose movements were -polar, and carried from day to day those of the world along with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_360" id="page_360">{360}</a></span> them. -The Samson Agonistes—were his life passed like that of Samuel Johnson -in dirty garrets, and the produce of it only some bits of written -paper—the Agonistes, and how he will comport himself in the Philistine -mill; this is always a spectacle of truly epic and tragic nature, the -rather if your Samson, royal or other, is not yet blinded or subdued to -the wheel, much more if he vanquish his enemies, <i>not</i> by suicidal -methods, but march out at last flourishing his miraculous fighting -implement, and leaving their mill and them in quite ruinous -circumstances, as this King Friedrich fairly managed to do.</p> - -<p>For he left the world all bankrupt, we may say; fallen into bottomless -abysses of destruction; he still in a paying condition, and with footing -capable to carry his affairs and him. When he died, in 1786, the -enormous phenomenon since called <span class="smcap">French Revolution</span> was already growling -audibly in the depths of the world, meteoric-electric coruscations -heralding it all round the horizon. Strange enough to note, one of -Friedrich’s last visitors was Gabriel Honoré Riquetti, Comte de -Mirabeau. These two saw one another; twice, for half an hour each time. -The last of the old gods and the first of the modern Titans—before -Pelion leaped on Ossa, and the foul earth taking fire at last, its vile -mephitic elements went up in volcanic thunder. This also is one of the -peculiarities of Friedrich, that he is hitherto the last of the kings; -that he ushers in the French Revolution, and closes an epoch of -world-history. Finishing off forever the trade of king, think many, who -have grown profoundly dark as to kingship and him.</p> - -<p>The French Revolution may be said to have, for about half a century, -quite submerged Friedrich, abolished him from the memories of men; and -now, on coming to light again, he is found defaced under strange mud -incrustations, and the eyes of mankind look at him from a singularly -changed, what we must call oblique and perverse point of vision. This is -one of the difficulties in dealing with his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_361" id="page_361">{361}</a></span> history—especially if you -happen to believe both in the French Revolution and in him—that is to -say, both that real kingship is eternally indispensable, and also that -the destruction of sham kingship (a frightful process) is occasionally -so.</p> - -<p>On the breaking out of the formidable explosion and suicide of his -century, Friedrich sank into comparative obscurity, eclipsed amid the -ruins of that universal earthquake, the very dust of which darkened all -the air, and made of day a disastrous midnight—black midnight, broken -only by the blaze of conflagrations—wherein, to our terrified -imaginations, were seen, not men, French and other, but ghastly -portents, stalking wrathful, and shapes of avenging gods.</p> - -<p>It must be owned the figure of Napoleon was titanic; especially to the -generation that looked on him, and that waited shuddering to be devoured -by him. In general, in that French Revolution, all was on a huge scale; -if not greater than anything in human experience, at least more -grandiose. All was recorded in bulletins, too, addressed to the shilling -gallery; and there were fellows on the stage with such a breadth of -saber, extent of whiskerage, strength of windpipe, and command of men -and gunpowder as had never been seen before. How they bellowed, stalked, -and flourished about, counterfeiting Jove’s thunder to an amazing -degree! Terrific Drawcansir figures of enormous whiskerage, unlimited -command of gunpowder; not without sufficient ferocity, and even a -certain heroism, stage heroism, in them; compared with whom, to the -shilling gallery, and frightened, excited theatre at large, it seemed as -if there had been no generals or sovereigns before; as if Friedrich, -Gustavus, Cromwell, William Conqueror, and Alexander the Great were not -worth speaking of henceforth.</p> - -<p>All this, however, in half a century is considerably altered. The -Drawcansir equipments getting gradually torn off, the natural size is -seen better; translated from the bul<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_362" id="page_362">{362}</a></span>letin style into that of fact and -history, miracles, even to the shilling gallery, are not so miraculous. -It begins to be apparent that there lived great men before the era of -bulletins and Agamemnon. Austerlitz and Wagram shot away more -gunpowder—gunpowder, probably, in the proportion of ten to one, or a -hundred to one; but neither of them was tenth part such a beating to -your enemy as that of Rossbach, brought about by strategic art, human -ingenuity and intrepidity, and the loss of one hundred and sixty-five -men. Leuthen, too, the battle of Leuthen (though so few English readers -ever heard of it) may very well hold up its head beside any victory -gained by Napoleon or another. For the odds were not far from three to -one; the soldiers were of not far from equal quality; and only the -general was consummately superior, and the defeat a destruction.</p> - -<p>Napoleon did, indeed, by immense expenditure of men and gunpowder, -overrun Europe for a time; but Napoleon never, by husbanding and wisely -expending his men and gunpowder, defended a little Prussia against all -Europe, year after year for seven years long, till Europe had enough, -and gave up the enterprise as one it could not manage. So soon as the -Drawcansir equipments are well torn off and the shilling gallery got to -silence, it will be found that there were great kings before Napoleon, -and likewise an art of war, grounded on veracity and human courage and -insight, not upon Drawcansir rodomontade, grandiose Dick-Turpinism, -revolutionary madness, and unlimited expenditure of men and gunpowder. -“You may paint with a very big brush, and yet not be a great painter,” -says a satirical friend of mine. This is becoming more and more -apparent, as the dust-whirlwind and huge uproar of the last generation -gradually dies away again.</p> - -<p>Friedrich is by no means one of the perfect demigods; and there are -various things to be said against him with good ground. To the last, a -questionable hero; with much in him which one could have wished not -there, and much<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_363" id="page_363">{363}</a></span> wanting which one could have wished. But there is one -feature which strikes you at an early period of the inquiry. That in his -way he is a reality; that he always means what he speaks; grounds his -actions, too, on what he recognizes for the truth; and, in short, has -nothing whatever of the hypocrite or phantasm. Which some readers will -admit to be an extremely rare phenomenon.</p> - -<p>We perceive that this man was far indeed from trying to deal -swindler-like with the facts around him; that he honestly recognized -said facts wherever they disclosed themselves, and was very anxious also -to ascertain their existence where still hidden or dubious. For he knew -well, to a quite uncommon degree, and with a merit all the higher as it -was an unconscious one, how entirely inexorable is the nature of facts, -whether recognized or not, ascertained or not; how vain all cunning of -diplomacy, management and sophistry, to save any mortal who does <i>not</i> -stand on the truth of things, from sinking in the long run. Sinking to -the very mudgods, with all his diplomacies, possessions, achievements; -and becoming an unnamable object, hidden deep in the cesspools of the -universe. This I hope to make manifest; this which I long ago discerned -for myself, with pleasure, in the physiognomy of Friedrich and his life. -Which, indeed, was the first real sanction, and has all along been my -inducement and encouragement, to study his life and him. How this man, -officially a king withal, comported himself in the eighteenth century, -and managed <i>not</i> to be a liar and charlatan as his century was, -deserves to be seen a little by men and kings, and may silently have -didactic meanings in it.</p> - -<p>He that was honest with his existence has always meaning for us, be he -king or peasant. He that merely shammed and grimaced with it however -much, and with whatever noise and trumpet-blowing, he may have cooked -and eaten in this world, can not long have any. Some men do <i>cook</i> -enormously (let us call it <i>cooking</i>, what a man does in obedi<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_364" id="page_364">{364}</a></span>ence to -his <i>hunger</i> merely, to his desires and passions merely)—roasting whole -continents and populations, in the flames of war or other discord; -witness the Napoleon above spoken of. For the appetite of man in that -respect is unlimited; in truth, infinite; and the smallest of us could -eat the entire solar system, had we the chance given, and then cry, like -Alexander of Macedon, because we had no more solar systems to cook and -eat. It is not the extent of the man’s cookery that can much attach me -to him; but only the man himself, and what of strength he had to wrestle -with the mud-elements, and what of victory he got for his own benefit -and mine.</p> - -<h2><a name="WILLIAM_PITT_EARL_OF_CHATHAM" id="WILLIAM_PITT_EARL_OF_CHATHAM"></a>WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Born in 1708, died 1778, one of the most eminent of English -statesmen and orators. Educated at Eton and Oxford, he spent a -short term in the army, but found his true vocation on being -elected to Parliament in 1737. It was not till 1755 that he became -virtual prime minister. Under his control the arms and diplomacy of -England became generally victorious throughout the world. It was -largely owing to his support that Frederick the Great was finally -victorious over his enemies, and that a great and consistent -foreign policy was inaugurated that raised the nation to a lofty -pitch of glory. The elder Pitt was known as the “great commoner,” -and it was thought derogatory to his fame when he accepted a -peerage. He was the firm and eloquent advocate of the American -colonists in their claims against the mother-country.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is this personal and solitary grandeur which strikes us most as we -look back to William Pitt. The tone of his speech and action stands out -in utter contrast with the tone of his time. In the midst of a society -critical, polite, indifferent, simple even to the affectation of -simplicity, witty and amusing but absolutely prosaic, cool of heart and -of head, skeptical of virtue and enthusiasm, skeptical above all of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_365" id="page_365">{365}</a></span> -itself, Pitt stood absolutely alone. The depth of his conviction, his -passionate love for all that he deemed lofty and true, his fiery energy, -his poetic imaginativeness, his theatrical airs and rhetoric, his -haughty self-assumption, his pompousness and extravagance, were not more -puzzling to his contemporaries than the confidence with which he -appealed to the higher sentiments of mankind, the scorn with which he -turned from a corruption which had till then been the great engine of -politics, the undoubting faith which he felt in himself, in the grandeur -of his aims, and in his power to carry them out. “I know that I can save -the country,” he said to the Duke of Devonshire on his entry into the -ministry, “and I know no other man can.” The groundwork of Pitt’s -character was an intense and passionate pride; but it was a pride which -kept him from stooping to the level of the men who had so long held -England in their hands. He was the first statesman since the restoration -who set the example of a purely public spirit.</p> - -<p>Keen as was his love of power, no man ever refused office so often or -accepted it with so strict a regard to the principles he professed. “I -will not go to court,” he replied to an offer which was made him, “if I -may not bring the constitution with me.” For the corruption about him he -had nothing but disdain. He left to Newcastle the buying of seats and -the purchase of members. At the outset of his career Pelham appointed -him to the most lucrative office in his administration, that of -paymaster of the forces; but its profits were of an illicit kind, and -poor as he was, Pitt refused to accept one farthing beyond his salary. -His pride never appeared in loftier and nobler form than in his attitude -toward the people at large. No leader had ever a wider popularity than -“the great commoner,” as Pitt was styled, but his air was always that of -a man who commands popularity, not that of one who seeks it. He never -bent to flatter popular prejudice. When mobs were roaring themselves -hoarse for “Wilkes and liberty,” he denounced Wilkes<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_366" id="page_366">{366}</a></span> as a worthless -profligate; and when all England went mad in its hatred of the Scots, -Pitt haughtily declared his esteem for a people whose courage he had -been the first to enlist on the side of loyalty.</p> - -<p>His noble figure, the hawk-like eye which flashed from the small, thin -face, his majestic voice, the fire and grandeur of his eloquence, gave -him a sway over the House of Commons far greater than any other minister -has possessed. He could silence an opponent with a look of scorn, or -hush the whole House with a single word. But he never stooped to the -arts by which men form a political party, and at the height of his power -his personal following hardly numbered half a dozen members.</p> - -<p>His real strength, indeed, lay not in Parliament, but in the people at -large. His significant title of “the great commoner” marks a political -revolution. “It is the people who have sent me here,” Pitt boasted with -a haughty pride when the nobles of the cabinet opposed his will. He was -the first to see that the long political inactivity of the public mind -had ceased, and that the progress of commerce and industry had produced -a great middle class which no longer found its representatives in the -legislature. “You have taught me,” said George II, when Pitt sought to -save Byng by appealing to the sentiment of Parliament, “to look for the -voice of my people in other places than within the House of Commons.”</p> - -<p>It was this unrepresented class which had forced him into power. During -his struggle with Newcastle the greater towns backed him with the gift -of their freedom and addresses of confidence. “For weeks,” laughs Horace -Walpole, “it rained gold boxes.” London stood by him through good report -and evil report, and the wealthiest of English merchants, Alderman -Beckford, was proud to figure as his political lieutenant. The temper of -Pitt indeed harmonized admirably with the temper of the commercial -England which rallied round him, with its energy, its self-confidence,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_367" id="page_367">{367}</a></span> -its pride, its patriotism, its honesty, its moral earnestness. The -merchant and the trader were drawn by a natural attraction to the one -statesman of their time whose aims were unselfish, whose hands were -clean, whose life was pure and full of tender affection for wife and -child. But there was a far deeper ground for their enthusiastic -reverence and for the reverence which his country has borne Pitt ever -since.</p> - -<p>He loved England with an intense and personal love. He believed in her -power, her glory, her public virtue, till England learned to believe in -herself. Her triumphs were his triumphs, her defeats his defeats. Her -dangers lifted him high above all thought of self or party spirit. “Be -one people,” he cried to the factions who rose to bring about his fall; -“forget everything but the public! I set you the example!” His glowing -patriotism was the real spell by which he held England. But even the -faults which checkered his character told for him with the middle -classes. The Whig statesmen who preceded him had been men whose pride -expressed itself in a marked simplicity and absence of pretense. Pitt -was essentially an actor, dramatic in the cabinet, in the House, in his -very office. He transacted business with his clerks in full dress. His -letters to his family, genuine as his love for them was, are stilted and -unnatural in tone. It was easy for the wits of his day to jest at his -affectation, his pompous gait, the dramatic appearance which he made on -great debates with his limbs swathed in flannel and his crutch by his -side. Early in life Walpole sneered at him for bringing into the House -of Commons “the gestures and emotions of the stage.” But the classes to -whom Pitt appealed were classes not easily offended by faults of taste, -and saw nothing to laugh at in the statesman who was borne into the -lobby amid the tortures of the gout, or carried into the House of Lords -to breathe his last in a protest against national dishonor.</p> - -<p>Above all Pitt wielded the strength of a resistless eloquence. The power -of political speech had been revealed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_368" id="page_368">{368}</a></span> in the stormy debates of the long -Parliament, but it was cramped in its utterance by the legal and -theological pedantry of the time. Pedantry was flung off by the age of -the revolution, but in the eloquence of Somers and his rivals we see -ability rather than genius, knowledge, clearness of expression, -precision of thought, the lucidity of the pleader or the man of -business, rather than the passion of the orator. Of this clearness of -statement Pitt had little or none. He was no ready debater like Walpole, -no speaker of set speeches like Chesterfield. His set speeches were -always his worst, for in these his want of taste, his love of effect, -his trite quotations and extravagant metaphors came at once to the -front. That with defects like these he stood far above every orator of -his time was due above all to his profound conviction, to the -earnestness and sincerity with which he spoke. “I must sit still,” he -whispered once to a friend, “for when once I am up everything that is in -my mind comes out.” But the reality of his eloquence was transfigured by -a large and poetic imagination, and by a glow of passion which not only -raised him high above the men of his own day, but set him in the front -rank among the orators of the world. The cool reasoning, the wit, the -common sense of his age made way for a splendid audacity, a sympathy -with popular emotion, a sustained grandeur, a lofty vehemence, a command -over the whole range of human feeling. He passed without an effort from -the most solemn appeal to the gayest raillery, from the keenest sarcasm -to the tenderest pathos. Every word was driven home by the grand -self-consciousness of the speaker. He spoke always as one having -authority. He was in fact the first English orator whose words were a -power, a power not over Parliament only, but over the nation at large. -Parliamentary reporting was as yet unknown, and it was only in detached -phrases and half-remembered outbursts that the voice of Pitt reached -beyond the walls of St. Stephen’s. But it was especially in these sudden -outbursts of inspiration, in these<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_369" id="page_369">{369}</a></span> brief passionate appeals, that the -power of his eloquence lay. The few broken words we have of him stir the -same thrill in men of our day which they stirred in the men of his own. -But passionate as was Pitt’s eloquence, it was the eloquence of a -statesman, not of a rhetorician. Time has approved almost all his -greater struggles, his defense of the liberty of the subject against -arbitrary imprisonment under “general warrants,” of the liberty of the -press against Lord Mansfield, of the rights of constituencies against -the House of Commons, of the constitutional rights of America against -England itself. His foreign policy was directed to the preservation of -Prussia, and Prussia has vindicated his foresight by the creation of -Germany. We have adopted his plans for the direct government of India by -the crown, which when he proposed them were regarded as insane. Pitt was -the first to recognize the liberal character of the Church of England. -He was the first to sound the note of parliamentary reform. One of his -earliest measures shows the generosity and originality of his mind. He -quieted Scotland by employing its Jacobites in the service of their -country, and by raising the Highland regiments among its clans. The -selection of Wolfe and Amherst as generals showed his contempt for -precedent and his inborn knowledge of men.</p> - -<h2><a name="EDMUND_BURKE" id="EDMUND_BURKE"></a>EDMUND BURKE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[One of the greatest of English statesmen and orators, born in -Ireland in 1730, died 1797. He entered Parliament in 1766, and at -the beginning of the American troubles at once identified himself -with the policy of conciliation and moderation. During his long -parliamentary career Burke distinguished himself in connection with -every political problem which agitated the British Empire, though -he never became prime minister, and was for the most of his life a -member of the opposition. Burke’s speech at the trial of Warren -Hastings is regarded by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_370" id="page_370">{370}</a></span> many critics as the greatest oration ever -delivered in any forum. He was scarcely less distinguished as a -writer on political and philosophical questions than as statesman -and orator.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">There</span> are few men whose depth and versatility have been both so fully -recognized by their contemporaries and whose pre-eminence in many widely -different spheres is so amply attested. Adam Smith declared that he had -found no other man who, without communication, had thought out the same -conclusions on political economy as himself. Winstanley, the Camden -Professor of Ancient History, bore witness to his great knowledge of the -“philosophy, history, and filiation of languages, and of the principles -of etymological deduction.” Arthur Young, the first living authority on -agriculture, acknowledged his obligations to him for much information -about his special pursuits, and it was in a great degree his passion for -agriculture which induced Burke, when the death of his elder brother had -improved his circumstances, to incumber himself with a heavy debt by -purchasing that Beaconsfield estate where some of his happiest days were -spent. His conversational powers were only equaled, and probably not -surpassed, by those of Johnson. Goldsmith described him as “winding into -his subject, like a serpent.” “Like the fabled object of the fairy’s -favors,” said Wilberforce, “whenever he opened his mouth pearls and -diamonds dropped from him.” Grattan pronounced him the best talker he -had ever known. Johnson, in spite of their violent political -differences, always spoke of him with generous admiration. “Burke is an -extraordinary man. His stream of mind is perpetual.... His talk is the -ebullition of his mind. He does not talk for a desire of distinction, -but because his mind is full.... He is the only man whose common -conversation corresponds with the general fame which he has in the -world. Take up what topic you please, he is ready to meet you.... No man -of sense could meet Mr. Burke by accident under a gateway to avoid<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_371" id="page_371">{371}</a></span> a -shower without being convinced that he was the first man in England.” It -is not surprising that “he is the first man in the House of Commons, for -he is the first man everywhere.” He once declared that “he knew but two -men who had risen considerably above the common standard—Lord Chatham -and Edmund Burke.”</p> - -<p>The admirable proportion which subsisted between his different powers, -both moral and intellectual, is especially remarkable. Genius is often, -like the pearl, the offspring or the accompaniment of disease, and an -extraordinary development of one class of faculties is too frequently -balanced by an extraordinary deficiency of others. But nothing of this -kind can be found in Burke.</p> - -<p>His intellectual energy was fully commensurate with his knowledge, and -he had rare powers of bringing illustrations and methods of reasoning -derived from many spheres to bear on any subject he touched, and of -combining an extraordinary natural facility with the most untiring and -fastidious labor. In debate images, illustrations, and arguments rose to -his lips with a spontaneous redundance that astonished his hearers; but -no writer elaborated his compositions more carefully, and his printers -were often aghast at the multitude of his corrections and alterations. -Nor did his intellectual powers in any degree dry up or dwarf his moral -nature. There is no public man whose character is more clearly reflected -in his life and in his intimate correspondence; and it may be -confidently said that there is no other public man whose character was -in all essential respects more transparently pure. Weak health, deep and -fervent religious principles, and studious habits, saved him from the -temptations of youth; and amid all the vicissitudes and corruption of -politics his heart never lost its warmth, or his conscience its -sensitiveness.</p> - -<p>There were faults, indeed, which were only too apparent in his character -as in his intellect—an excessive violence and irritability of temper; -personal antipathies, which were<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_372" id="page_372">{372}</a></span> sometimes carried beyond all the -bounds of reason; party spirit, which was too often suffered to obscure -his judgment and to hurry him into great intemperance and exaggeration -of language. But he was emphatically a good man; and in the higher moral -qualities of public as of private life he has not often been surpassed. -That loyal affection with which he clung through his whole life to the -friends of his early youth; that genuine kindness which made him, when -still a poor man, the munificent patron of Barry and Crabbe, and which -showed itself in innumerable acts of unobtrusive benevolence; that -stainless purity and retiring modesty of nature which made his domestic -life so different from that of some of the greatest of his -contemporaries; that depth of feeling which made the loss of his only -son the death-knell of the whole happiness of his life, may be traced in -every stage of his public career. “I know the map of England,” he once -said, “as well as the noble lord, or as any other person, and I know -that the way I take is not the road to preferment.” Fidelity to his -engagements, a disinterested pursuit of what he believed to be right, in -spite of all the allurements of interest and of popularity; a deep and -ardent hatred of oppression and cruelty in every form; a readiness at -all times to sacrifice personal pretensions to party interests; a -capacity of devoting long years of thankless labor to the service of -those whom he had never seen, and who could never reward him, were the -great characteristics of his life, and they may well make us pardon many -faults of temper, judgment, and taste.</p> - -<p>In Parliament he had great obstacles to contend with. An Irishman -unconnected with any of the great governing families, and without any of -the influence derived from property and rank, he entered Parliament late -in life and with habits fully formed, and during the greater part of his -career he spoke as a member of a small minority in opposition to the -strong feeling of the House. He was too old and too rigid to catch its -tone, and he never acquired that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_373" id="page_373">{373}</a></span> subtle instinct or tact which enables -some speakers to follow its fleeting moods and to strike with unfailing -accuracy the precise key which is most in harmony with its prevailing -temper. “Of all politicians of talent I ever knew,” wrote Horace -Walpole, “Burke has least political art,” and his defects so increased -with age that the time came when he was often listened to with -undisguised impatience. He spoke too often, too vehemently, and much too -long; and his eloquence, though in the highest degree intellectual, -powerful, various, and original, was not well adapted to a popular -audience.</p> - -<p>He had little or nothing of that fire and majesty of declamation with -which Chatham thrilled his hearers, and often almost overawed -opposition, and as a parliamentary debater he was far inferior to -Charles Fox. That great master of persuasive reasoning never failed to -make every sentence tell upon his hearers, to employ precisely and -invariably the kind of arguments that were most level with their -understandings, to subordinate every other consideration to the single -end of convincing and impressing those who were before him. Burke was -not inferior to Fox in readiness and in the power of clear and cogent -reasoning. His wit, though not of the highest order, was only equaled by -that of Townshend, Sheridan, and perhaps North, and it rarely failed in -its effect upon the House. He far surpassed every other speaker in the -copiousness and correctness of his diction, in the range of knowledge he -brought to bear on every subject of debate, in the richness and variety -of his imagination, in the gorgeous beauty of his descriptive passages, -in the depth of the philosophical reflections and the felicity of the -personal sketches which he delighted in scattering over his speeches. -But these gifts were frequently marred by a strange want of judgment, -measure, and self-control.</p> - -<p>His speeches were full of episodes and digressions, of excessive -ornamentation and illustration, of dissertations on<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_374" id="page_374">{374}</a></span> general principles -of politics, which were invaluable in themselves, but very unpalatable -to a tired or excited house waiting eagerly for a division. As Grattan -once said, “they were far better suited to a patient reader than an -impatient hearer.” Passionately in earnest in the midst of a careless or -half-hearted assembly, seeking in all measures their essential and -permanent tendencies, while his hearers thought chiefly of their -transient and personal aspects, discussing first principles and remote -consequences, among men whose minds were concentrated on the struggle of -the hour, constantly led away by the endless stream of ideas and images -which were forever surging from his brain, he was often interrupted by -his impatient hearers. There is scarcely a perceptible difference -between the style of his essays and the style of his published speeches; -and if the reader selects from his works the few passages which possess -to an eminent degree the flash and movement of spoken rhetoric, he will -be quite as likely to find them in the former as in the latter.</p> - -<p>Like most men of great imaginative power, he possessed a highly strung -and oversensitive nervous organization, and the incessant conflicts of -parliamentary life brought it at last into a condition of irritability -that was wholly morbid and abnormal. Though eminently courteous and -amenable to reason in private life, in public he was often petulant, -intractable, and ungovernably violent. His friends sometimes held him -down by the skirts of his coat to restrain the outbursts of his anger. -He spoke with a burning brain and with quivering nerves. The rapid, -vehement, impetuous torrent of his eloquence, kindling as it flowed and -the nervous motions of his countenance reflected the ungovernable -excitement under which he labored; and while Fox could cast off without -an effort the cares of public life and pass at once from Parliament to a -night of dissipation at Brooks’s, Burke returned from debate jaded, -irritated, and soured.</p> - -<p>With an intellect capable of the very highest efforts of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_375" id="page_375">{375}</a></span> judicial -wisdom he combined the passions of the most violent partisan, and in the -excitement of debate these too often obtained the ascendency. Few things -are more curious than the contrast between the feverish and passionate -excitement with which he threw himself into party debates and the -admirably calm, exhaustive, and impartial summaries of the rival -arguments which he afterward drew up for the “Annual Register.” Though a -most skillful and penetrating critic, and though his English style is -one of the very finest in the language, his taste was not pure. Even his -best writings are sometimes disfigured by strangely coarse and repulsive -images, and gross violations of taste appear to have been frequent in -his speeches. It is probable that in his case the hasty reports in the -“Parliamentary History” and in the “Cavendish Debates” are more than -commonly defective, for Burke was a very rapid speaker, and his language -had the strongly marked individuality which reporters rarely succeed in -conveying; but no one who judged by these reports would place his -speeches in the first rank, and some of them are wild and tawdry almost -to insanity.</p> - -<p>Nor does he appear to have possessed any histrionic power. His voice had -little charm. He had a strong Irish accent, and Erskine described his -delivery as “execrable,” and declared that in some of his finest -speeches he emptied the house.</p> - -<p>Gerard Hamilton once said that while everywhere else Burke seemed the -first man, in the House of Commons he appeared only the second. At the -same time there is ample evidence that with all his defects he was from -the first a great power in the House, and that in the early part of his -career, and almost always on occasions of great importance, his -eloquence had a wonderful power upon his hearers. Pitt passed into the -House of Lords almost immediately after Burke had entered the Commons. -Fox was then a boy; Sheridan had not yet become a member; and his -fellow-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_376" id="page_376">{376}</a></span>countryman, Barré, though a rhetorician of great if somewhat -coarse power, was completely eclipsed by the splendor and the variety of -the talents of Burke. Charles Townshend alone, who shone for a few years -with a meteoric brilliancy in English politics, was regarded as his -worthy rival. Johnson wrote to Langton with great delight that Burke by -his first speeches in the House had “gained more reputation than perhaps -any man at his first appearance ever gained before.”</p> - -<p>“An Irishman, Mr. Burke, is sprung up,” wrote the American General Lee, -who was then watching London politics with great care, “who has -astonished everybody with the power of his eloquence and his -comprehensive knowledge in all our exterior and internal politics and -commercial interests. He wants nothing but that sort of dignity annexed -to rank and property in England to make him the most considerable man in -the Lower House.” Grattan, who on a question of oratory was one of the -most competent of judges, wrote in 1769, “Burke is unquestionably the -first orator among the Commons of England, boundless in knowledge, -instantaneous in his apprehensions, and abundant in his language. He -speaks with profound attention and acknowledged superiority, -notwithstanding the want of energy, the want of grace, and the want of -elegance in his manner.” Horace Walpole, who hated Burke, acknowledged -that he was “versed in every branch of eloquence,” that he possessed -“the quickest conception, amazing facility of elocution, great strength -of argumentation, all the power of imagination, and memory,” that even -his unpremeditated speeches displayed “a choice and variety of language, -a profusion of metaphors, and a correctness of diction that was -surprising,” and that in public, though not in private life his wit was -of the highest order, “luminous, striking, and abundant.” He complained, -however, with good reason that he “often lost himself in a torrent of -images and copiousness,” that “he dealt abundantly too much in -establishing general positions,” that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_377" id="page_377">{377}</a></span> he had “no address or -insinuation”; that his speeches often showed a great want of sobriety -and judgment, and “the still greater want of art to touch the passions.”</p> - -<p>But though their length, their excursiveness, and their didactic -character did undoubtedly on many occasions weary and even empty the -House, there were others in which Burke showed a power both of -fascinating and of moving, such as very few speakers have attained. -Gibbon, whose sinecure place was swept away by the Economical Reform -Bill of 1782, bears testimony to the “delight with which that diffusive -and ingenious orator, Mr. Burke, was heard by all sides of the House, -and even by those whose existence he proscribed.” Walpole has himself -repeatedly noticed the effect which the speeches of Burke produced upon -the hearers. Describing one of those against the American war, he says -that the wit of one part “excited the warmest and most continued bursts -of laughter even from Lord North, Rigby, and the ministers themselves,” -while the pathos of another part “drew iron tears down Barré’s cheek,” -and Governor Johnston exclaimed that “he was now glad that strangers -were excluded, as if they had been admitted Burke’s speech would have -excited them to tear ministers to pieces as they went out of the House.” -Sir Gilbert Elliot, describing one of Burke’s speeches on the Warren -Hastings impeachment, says: “He did not, I believe, leave a dry eye in -the whole assembly.” Making every allowance for the enthusiasm of a -French Royalist for the author of the “Reflections on the French -Revolution,” the graphic description by the Duke de Levis of one of -Burke’s latest speeches on that subject is sufficient to show the -magnetism of his eloquence even at the end of his career. “He made the -whole House pass in an instant from the tenderest emotions of feeling to -bursts of laughter; never was the electric power of eloquence more -imperiously felt. This extraordinary man seemed to raise and quell the -passions of his auditors with as much ease and as rapidly as a skillful -musician passes into the various mod<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_378" id="page_378">{378}</a></span>ulations of his harpsichord. I have -witnessed many, too many political assemblages and striking scenes where -eloquence performed a noble part, but the whole of them appear insipid -when compared with this amazing effort.”</p> - -<h2><a name="GEORGE_WASHINGTON" id="GEORGE_WASHINGTON"></a>GEORGE WASHINGTON.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Commander-in-chief of the American armies during the Revolution, -and first President of the United States, born 1732, died 1799. -Washington’s first notable appearance in public life was in the -Braddock expedition of 1755, when, at the age of twenty-three, as -commander of the provincials in the British force, he saved the -remains of the defeated army. Thenceforward he became one of the -most important figures in Virginia. After five years of military -service he resigned his commission and retired to private life, -except doing his duty as member of the Provincial Assembly. When -the colonies took up arms, in 1775, Washington received the -unanimous call to the chief command. At the close of hostilities -General Washington resigned his commission and retired to Mount -Vernon, shunning all connection with public affairs. He was made -president of the Constitutional Convention of 1787, and on the -promulgation of the Constitution, it was his transcendent -popularity which was the most important influence in securing its -ratification by the requisite number of States. He was elected -first President, and served for two terms.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Perhaps</span> the most difficult question, however, was the appointment of a -commander-in-chief; and on no other subject did the Congress exhibit -more conspicuous wisdom. When only twenty-three, Washington had been -appointed commander of the Virginian forces against the French; and in -the late war, though he had met with one serious disaster, and had no -opportunity of obtaining any very brilliant military reputation, he had -always shown himself an eminently brave and skillful soldier. His great -modesty and taciturnity kept him in the background, both in the -provincial legislature and in the Continental Congress; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_379" id="page_379">{379}</a></span> though his -voice was scarcely ever heard in debate, his superiority was soon felt -in the practical work of the committees. “If you speak of solid -information or sound judgment,” said Patrick Henry about this time, -“Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man in the Congress.” -He appeared in the assembly in uniform, and in military matters his -voice had an almost decisive weight. Several circumstances distinguished -him from other officers, who in military service might have been his -rivals.</p> - -<p>He was of an old American family. He was a planter of wealth and social -position, and being a Virginian, his appointment was a great step toward -enlisting that important colony cordially in the cause. The capital -question now pending in America was, how far the other colonies would -support New England in the struggle. In the preceding March, Patrick -Henry had carried a resolution for embodying and reorganizing the -Virginia militia, and had openly proclaimed that an appeal to arms was -inevitable; but as yet New England had borne almost the whole burden.</p> - -<p>The army at Cambridge was a New England army, and General Ward, who -commanded it, had been appointed by Massachusetts. Even if Ward were -superseded, there were many New England competitors for the post of -commander; the army naturally desired a chief of their own province, and -there were divisions and hostilities among the New England deputies. The -great personal merit of Washington and the great political importance of -securing Virginia, determined the issue; and the New England deputies -ultimately took a leading part in the appointment. The second place was -given to General Ward, and the third to Charles Lee, an English soldier -of fortune who had lately purchased land in Virginia and embraced the -American cause with great passion. Lee had probably a wider military -experience than any other officer in America, but he was a man of no -settled principles, and his great talents were marred by a very -irritable and capricious temper.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_380" id="page_380">{380}</a></span></p> - -<p>To the appointment of Washington, far more than to any other single -circumstance, is due the ultimate success of the American Revolution, -though in purely intellectual powers Washington was certainly inferior -to Franklin, and perhaps to two or three others of his colleagues. There -is a theory which once received the countenance of some considerable -physiologists, though it is now, I believe, completely discarded, that -one of the great lines of division among men may be traced to the -comparative development of the cerebrum and the cerebellum. To the first -organ it was supposed belong those special gifts or powers which make -men poets, orators, thinkers, artists, conquerors, or wits. To the -second belong the superintending, restraining, discerning, and directing -faculties which enable men to employ their several talents with sanity -and wisdom, which maintain the balance and the proportion of intellect -and character, and make sound judgments and well-regulated lives. The -theory, however untrue in its physiological aspect, corresponds to a -real distinction in human minds and characters, and it was especially in -the second order of faculties that Washington excelled. His mind was not -quick or remarkably original. His conversation had no brilliancy or wit. -He was entirely without the gift of eloquence, and he had very few -accomplishments. He knew no language but his own, and except for a -rather strong turn for mathematics, he had no taste which can be called -purely intellectual. There was nothing in him of the meteor or the -cataract, nothing that either dazzled or overpowered. A courteous and -hospitable country gentleman, a skillful farmer, a very keen sportsman, -he probably differed little in tastes and habits from the better members -of the class to which he belonged; and it was in a great degree in the -administration of a large estate and in assiduous attention to county -and provincial business that he acquired his rare skill in reading and -managing men.</p> - -<p>As a soldier the circumstances of his career brought him<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_381" id="page_381">{381}</a></span> into the blaze -not only of domestic, but of foreign criticism, and it was only very -gradually that his superiority was fully recognized. Lee, who of all -American soldiers had seen most service in the English army, and Conway, -who had risen to great repute in the French army, were both accustomed -to speak of his military talents with extreme disparagement; but -personal jealousy and animosity undoubtedly colored their judgments. -Kalb, who had been trained in the best military schools of the -Continent, at first pronounced him to be very deficient in the strength, -decision, and promptitude of a general; and, although he soon learned to -form the highest estimate of his military capacity, he continued to -lament that an excessive modesty led him too frequently to act upon the -opinion of inferior men, rather than upon his own most excellent -judgment. In the army and the Congress more than one rival was opposed -to him. He had his full share of disaster; the operations which he -conducted, if compared with great European wars, were on a very small -scale; and he had the immense advantage of encountering in most cases -generals of singular incapacity.</p> - -<p>It may, however, be truly said of him that his military reputation -steadily rose through many successive campaigns, and before the end of -the struggle he had outlived all rivalry, and almost all envy. He had a -thorough knowledge of the technical part of his profession, a good eye -for military combinations, and an extraordinary gift of military -administration. Punctual, methodical, and exact in the highest degree, -he excelled in managing those minute details which are so essential to -the efficiency of an army, and he possessed to an eminent degree not -only the common courage of a soldier, but also that much rarer form of -courage which can endure long-continued suspense, bear the weight of -great responsibility, and encounter the risks of misrepresentation and -unpopularity. For several years, and usually in the neighborhood of -superior forces, he commanded a per<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_382" id="page_382">{382}</a></span>petually fluctuating army, almost -wholly destitute of discipline and respect for authority, torn by the -most violent personal and provincial jealousies, wretchedly armed, -wretchedly clothed, and sometimes in imminent danger of starvation. -Unsupported for the most part by the population among whom he was -quartered, and incessantly thwarted by the jealousy of Congress, he kept -his army together by a combination of skill, firmness, patience, and -judgment which has rarely been surpassed, and he led it at last to a -signal triumph.</p> - -<p>In civil as in military life, he was pre-eminent among his -contemporaries for the clearness and soundness of his judgment, for his -perfect moderation and self-control, for the quiet dignity and the -indomitable firmness with which he pursued every path which he had -deliberately chosen. Of all the great men in history he was the most -invariably judicious, and there is scarcely a rash word or action or -judgment recorded of him. Those who knew him well, noticed that he had -keen sensibilities and strong passions; but his power of self-command -never failed him, and no act of his public life can be traced to -personal caprice, ambition, or resentment. In the despondency of -long-continued failure, in the elation of sudden success, at times when -his soldiers were deserting by hundreds and when malignant plots were -formed against his reputation, amid the constant quarrels, rivalries, -and jealousies of his subordinates, in the dark hour of national -ingratitude, and in the midst of the most universal and intoxicating -flattery, he was always the same calm, wise, just, and single-minded -man, pursuing the course which he believed to be right, without fear or -favor or fanaticism; equally free from the passions that spring from -interest and from the passions that spring from imagination. He never -acted on the impulse of an absorbing or uncalculating enthusiasm, and he -valued very highly fortune, position, and reputation; but at the command -of duty he was ready to risk and sacrifice them all.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_383" id="page_383">{383}</a></span></p> - -<p>He was in the highest sense of the words a gentleman and a man of honor, -and he carried into public life the severest standard of private morals. -It was at first the constant dread of large sections of the American -people that if the old government were overthrown, they would fall into -the hands of military adventurers, and undergo the yoke of military -despotism. It was mainly the transparent integrity of the character of -Washington that dispelled the fear. It was always known by his friends, -and it was soon acknowledged by the whole nation and by the English -themselves, that in Washington America had found a leader who could be -induced by no earthly motive to tell a falsehood, or to break an -engagement, or to commit any dishonorable act. Men of this moral type -are happily not rare, and we have all met them in our experience; but -there is scarcely another instance in history of such a man having -reached and maintained the highest position in the convulsions of civil -war and of a great popular agitation.</p> - -<p>It is one of the great advantages of the long practice of free -institutions, that it diffuses through the community a knowledge of -character and a soundness of judgment which save it from the enormous -mistakes that are almost always made by enslaved nations when suddenly -called upon to choose their rulers. No fact shows so eminently the high -intelligence of the men who managed the American Revolution as their -selection of a leader whose qualities were so much more solid than -brilliant, and who was so entirely free from all the characteristics of -a demagogue. It was only slowly and very deliberately that Washington -identified himself with the revolutionary cause.</p> - -<p>No man had a deeper admiration for the British constitution, or a more -sincere wish to preserve the connection and to put an end to the -disputes between the two countries. In Virginia the revolutionary -movement was preceded and prepared by a democratic movement of the -yeomanry of the province, led by Patrick Henry, against the planter -aristoc<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_384" id="page_384">{384}</a></span>racy, and Washington was a conspicuous member of the latter. In -tastes, manners, instincts, and sympathies he might have been taken as -an admirable specimen of the better type of English country gentleman, -and he had a great deal of the strong conservative feeling which is -natural to the class. From the first promulgation of the Stamp Act, -however, he adopted a conviction that a recognition of the sole right of -the colonies to tax themselves was essential to their freedom, and as -soon as it became evident that Parliament was resolved at all hazards to -assert and exercise its authority of taxing America, he no longer -hesitated. An interesting letter to his wife, however, shows clearly -that he accepted the proffered command of the American forces with -extreme diffidence and reluctance, and solely because he believed that -it was impossible for him honorably to refuse it. He declined to accept -from Congress any emoluments for his service beyond the simple payment -of his expenses, of which he was accustomed to draw up most exact and -methodical accounts.</p> - -<h2><a name="MIRABEAU" id="MIRABEAU"></a>MIRABEAU.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By THOMAS CARLYLE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Count Gabriel Honoré Riquetti, born 1749, died 1791; distinguished -as statesman and orator in the days preceding the French -Revolution. The heir of a noble name, his early life was one of -wild excess and eccentric adventure, but already marked by the -intellectual daring and brilliancy which afterward made his name -famous. In 1789 he was elected to the States-General from Aix as -representative, however, of the Third Estate (the Commons), not of -the nobility to which he belonged. Already strongly infected by -liberal theories, his energy, intellectual power and eloquence soon -made him the foremost figure in the great legislative body. At -first antagonistic to royal pretension, he finally recognized the -dangers of the coming revolution at an early stage, and attempted -to stem the current. His efforts to reconcile clashing interests -from 1789 to 1791 were characterized by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_385" id="page_385">{385}</a></span> the most splendid powers -of the orator and statesman. His premature death removed the only -barrier to the rising revolutionary tide. He was the idol of the -populace, and it is believed by many historians that, had he lived, -the French Revolution would have flowed in a different channel.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Which</span> of these six hundred individuals, in plain white cravat, that have -come up to regenerate France, might one guess would become their <i>king</i>? -For a king or leader they, as all bodies of men, must have; be their -work what it may, there is one man there who, by character, faculty, -position, is fittest of all to do it; that man, as future not yet -elected king, walks there among the rest. He with the thick black locks, -will it be? With the <i>hure</i>, as himself calls it, or black -<i>boar’s-head</i>, fit to be “shaken” as a senatorial portent? Through whose -shaggy beetle-brows, and rough-hewed, seamed, carbuncled face, there -look natural ugliness, small-pox, incontinence, bankruptcy—and burning -fire of genius; like comet-fire glaring fuliginous through murkiest -confusions? It is <i>Gabriel Honoré Riquetti Mirabeau</i>, the -world-compeller; man-ruling deputy of Aix! According to the Baroness de -Staël, he steps proudly along, though looked at askance here; and shakes -his black <i>chevelure</i>, or lion’s-mane, as if prophetic of great deeds.</p> - -<p>Yes, reader, that is the type-Frenchman of this epoch; as Voltaire was -of the last. He is French in his aspirations, acquisitions, in his -virtues, in his vices; perhaps more French than any other man—and -intrinsically such a mass of manhood too. Mark him well. The National -Assembly were all different without that one; nay, he might say with the -old despot: “The National Assembly? I am that.”</p> - -<p>Of a southern climate, of wild southern blood; for the Riquettis, or -Arrighettis, had to fly from Florence and the Guelfs, long centuries -ago, and settled in Provence, where from generation to generation they -have ever approved themselves a peculiar kindred; irascible, -indomitable, sharp-cutting, true, like the steel they wore; of an -intensity and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_386" id="page_386">{386}</a></span> activity that sometimes verged toward madness, yet did -not reach it. One ancient Riquetti, in mad fulfillment of a mad vow, -chains two mountains together; and the chain, with its “iron star of -five rays,” is still to be seen. May not a modern Riquetti <i>un</i>chain so -much, and set it drifting—which also shall be seen?</p> - -<p>Destiny has work for that swart burly-headed Mirabeau; Destiny has -watched over him, prepared him from afar. Did not his grandfather, stout -<i>Col-d’Argent</i> (Silver-Stock, so they named him), shattered and slashed -by seven-and-twenty wounds in one fell day, lie sunk together on the -bridge at Casano; while Prince Eugene’s cavalry galloped and regalloped -over him—only the flying sergeant had thrown a camp-kettle over that -loved head; and Vendôme, dropping his spy-glass, moaned out, “Mirabeau -is <i>dead</i>, then!” Nevertheless he was not dead: he awoke to breath, and -miraculous surgery—for Gabriel was yet to be. With his <i>silver-stock</i> -he kept his scarred head erect, through long years; and wedded; and -produced tough Marquis Victor, the <i>Friend of Men</i>. Whereby at last in -the appointed year, 1749, this long-expected rough-hewed Gabriel Honoré -did likewise see the light; roughest lion’s whelp ever littered of that -rough breed. How the old lion (for our old marquis too was lion-like, -most unconquerable, kingly-genial, most perverse) gazed wondering on his -offspring; and determined to train him as no lion had yet been! It is in -vain, oh Marquis! This cub, though thou slay him and flay him, will not -learn to draw in dogcart of political economy, and be a <i>Friend of Men</i>; -he will not be thou, but must and will be himself, another than thou. -Divorce lawsuits, “whole family save one in prison, and three-score -<i>Lettres-de-Cachet</i>” for thy own sole use, do but astonish the world.</p> - -<p>Our luckless Gabriel, sinned against and sinning, has been in the Isle -of Rhé and heard the Atlantic from his tower; in the castle of If, and -heard the Mediterranean at Marseilles. He has been in the fortress of -Joux, and forty-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_387" id="page_387">{387}</a></span>two months, with hardly clothing to his back, in the -dungeon of Vincennes—all by <i>Lettre-de-Cachet</i> from his lion father. He -has been in Pontarlier jails (self-constituted prisoner); was noticed -fording estuaries of the sea (at low water), in flight from the face of -men. He has pleaded before Aix parliaments (to get back his wife); the -public gathering on roofs, to see since they could not hear; “the -clatter-teeth (<i>claque-dents</i>)!” snarls singular old Mirabeau, -discerning in such admired forensic eloquence nothing but two clattering -jaw-bones, and a head vacant, sonorous, of the drum species.</p> - -<p>But as for Gabriel Honoré, in these strange wayfarings, what has he not -seen and tried! From drill-sergeants to prime-ministers, to foreign and -domestic booksellers, all manner of men he has seen. All manner of men -he has gained; for, at bottom, it is a social, loving heart, that wild, -unconquerable one—more especially all manner of women. From the -archer’s daughter at Saintes to that fair young Sophie Madame Monnier, -whom he could not but “steal,” and be beheaded for—in effigy! For, -indeed, hardly since the Arabian prophet lay dead to Ali’s admiration -was there seen such a love-hero, with the strength of thirty men. In -war, again, he has helped to conquer Corsica; fought duels, irregular -brawls; horsewhipped calumnious barons. In literature, he has written on -“Despotism,” on “Lettres-de-Cachet”; Erotics Sapphic-Werterean, -Obscenities, Profanities; books on the “Prussian Monarchy,” on -“Cagliostro,” on “Calonne,” on “The Water-Companies of Paris”—each book -comparable, we will say, to a bituminous alarm-fire; huge, smoky, -sudden! The fire-pan, the kindling, the bitumen were his own; but the -lumber, of rags, old wood and nameless combustible rubbish (for all is -fuel to him), was gathered from hucksters and ass-panniers of every -description under heaven. Whereby, indeed, hucksters enough have been -heard to exclaim: Out upon it, the fire is <i>mine</i>!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_388" id="page_388">{388}</a></span></p> - -<p>Nay, consider it more generally, seldom had man such a talent for -borrowing. The idea, the faculty of another man he can make his; the man -himself he can make his. “All reflex and echo (<i>tout de reflet et de -réverbère</i>)!” snarls old Mirabeau, who can see, but will not. Crabbed -old Friend of Men! it is his sociality, his aggregative nature; and will -now be the quality of qualities for him. In that forty years’ “struggle -against despotism” he has gained the glorious faculty of <i>self-help</i>, -and yet not lost the glorious natural gift of <i>fellowship</i>, of being -helped. Rare union; this man can live self-sufficing—yet lives also in -the life of other men; can make men love him, work with him; a born king -of men!</p> - -<p>But consider further how, as the old marquis still snarls, he has “made -away with (<i>humé</i>, swallowed, snuffed-up) all <i>formulas</i>”—a fact, -which, if we meditate it, will in these days mean much. This is no man -of system, then; he is only a man of instincts and insights. A man, -nevertheless, who will glare fiercely on any object, and see through it -and conquer it; for he has intellect, he has will, force beyond other -men. A man not with <i>logic-spectacles</i>, but with an <i>eye</i>! Unhappily -without decalogue, moral code, or theorem of any fixed sort, yet not -without a strong living soul in him, and sincerity there; a reality, not -an artificiality, not a sham! And so he, having struggled “forty years -against despotism,” and “made away with all formulas,” shall now become -the spokesman of a nation bent to do the same. For is it not precisely -the struggle of France also to cast off despotism; to make away with -<i>her</i> old formulas—having found them naught, worn out, far from the -reality? She will make away with <i>such</i> formulas—and even go <i>bare</i>, if -need be, till she have found new ones.</p> - -<p>Toward such work, in such manner, marches he, this singular Riquetti -Mirabeau. In fiery rough figure, with black Samson-locks under the -slouch-hat, he steps along there. A fiery fuliginous mass, which could -not be choked<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_389" id="page_389">{389}</a></span> and smothered, but would fill all France with smoke. And -now it has got <i>air</i>; it will burn its whole substance, its whole -smoke-atmosphere, too, and fill all France with flame. Strange lot! -Forty years of that smoldering, with foul fire-damp and vapor enough; -then victory over that—and like a burning mountain he blazes -heaven-high; and for twenty-three resplendent months pours out in flame -and molten fire-torrents all that is in him, the Pharos and wonder-sign -of an amazed Europe—and then lies hollow, cold forever! Pass on, thou -questionable Gabriel Honoré, the greatest of them all; in the whole -national deputies, in the whole nation, there is none like and none -second to thee.</p> - -<h2><a name="CHARLES_JAMES_FOX" id="CHARLES_JAMES_FOX"></a>CHARLES JAMES FOX.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[An eminent orator and statesman, born 1749, died 1806. Fox was -noted as being the greatest man of his age in parliamentary debate. -He was the son of Sir Henry Fox, afterward Lord Holland, and was -elected to Parliament while scarcely yet of age. Fox was identified -with the Whig party, and contributed greatly to the success and -firm establishment of liberal and reform principles in politics, -though his private life was careless and dissolute. Though peerless -as a debater, Fox was unsuccessful in commanding public respect and -confidence during his short experiment as premier, and was for the -most of his career a leader of the opposition. The memory of Fox is -endeared to Americans by his sympathy with our revolutionary -struggle, his persistent efforts to prevent the war before it -began, and to secure an early concession of American independence -after the beginning of hostilities.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles James Fox</span> was the third son of the first Lord Holland, the old -rival of Pitt. He had entered Parliament irregularly and illegally in -November, 1768, when he had not yet completed his twentieth year, and in -February, 1770, he had been made a lord of the admiralty in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_390" id="page_390">{390}</a></span> -Government of Lord North. The last political connection of Lord Holland -had been with Bute, and his son appears to have accepted the heritage of -his Tory principles without inquiry or reluctance. His early life was in -the highest degree discreditable, and gave very little promise of -greatness. His vehement and passionate temperament threw him speedily -into the wildest dissipation, and the almost insane indulgence of his -father gratified his every whim. When he was only fourteen Lord Holland -had brought him to the gambling-table at Spa, and, at a time when he had -hardly reached manhood, he was one of the most desperate gamblers of his -day. Lord Holland died in 1774, but before his death he is said to have -paid no less than one hundred and forty thousand pounds in extricating -his son from gambling debts. The death of his mother and the death of -his elder brother in the same year brought him a considerable fortune, -including an estate in the Isle of Thanet and the sinecure office of -clerk of the pells in Ireland, which was worth two thousand three -hundred pounds a year; but in a short time he was obliged to sell or -mortgage everything he possessed. He himself nicknamed his antechamber -the Jerusalem Chamber from the multitude of Jews who haunted it. Lord -Carlisle was at one time security for him to the extent of fifteen or -sixteen thousand pounds. During one of the most critical debates in 1781 -his house was in the occupation of the sheriffs. He was even debtor for -small sums to chairmen and to waiters at Brooks’s; and although in the -latter part of his life he was partly relieved by a large subscription -raised by his friends, he never appears to have wholly emerged from the -money difficulties in which his gambling tastes had involved him. Nor -was this his only vice.</p> - -<p>With some men the passion for gambling is an irresistible moral -monomania, the single morbid taint in a nature otherwise faultless and -pure. With Fox it was but one of many forms of an insatiable appetite -for vicious excitement,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_391" id="page_391">{391}</a></span> which continued with little abatement during -many years of his public career. In 1777, during a long visit to Paris, -he lived much in the society of Madame du Deffand, and that very acute -judge of character formed an opinion of him which was, on the whole, -very unfavorable. He has much talent, she said, much goodness of heart -and natural truthfulness, but he is absolutely without principle, he has -a contempt for every one who has principle, he lives in a perpetual -intoxication of excitement, he never gives a thought to the morrow, he -is a man eminently fitted to corrupt youth. In 1779, when he was already -one of the foremost politicians in England, he was one night drinking at -Almack’s with Lord Derby, Major Stanley, and a few other young men of -rank, when they determined at three in the morning to make a tour -through the streets, and amused themselves by instigating a mob to break -the windows of the chief members of the Government.</p> - -<p>His profligacy with women during a great part of his life was notorious, -though he appears at last to have confined himself to his connection -with Mrs. Armistead, whom he secretly married in September, 1795. He was -the soul of a group of brilliant and profligate spendthrifts, who did -much to dazzle and corrupt the fashionable youth of the time; and in -judging the intense animosity with which George III always regarded him, -it must not be forgotten that his example and his friendship had -probably a considerable influence in encouraging the Prince of Wales in -those vicious habits and in that undutiful course of conduct which -produced so much misery in the palace and so much evil in the nation. -One of the friends of Charles Fox summed up his whole career in a few -significant sentences. “He had three passions—women, play, and -politics. Yet he never formed a creditable connection with a woman. He -squandered all his means at the gaming-table, and, except for eleven -months, he was invariably in opposition.”</p> - -<p>That a man of whom all this can be truly said should<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_392" id="page_392">{392}</a></span> have taken a high -and honorable place in English history, and should have won for himself -the perennial love and loyalty of some of the best Englishmen of his -time, is not a little surprising, for a life such as I have described -would with most men have destroyed every fiber of intellectual energy -and of moral worth. But in truth there are some characters which nature -has so happily compounded that even vice is unable wholly to degrade -them, and there is a charm of manner and of temper which sometimes -accompanies the excesses of a strong animal nature that wins more -popularity in the world than the purest and the most self-denying -virtue. Of this truth Fox was an eminent example. With a herculean -frame, with iron nerves, with that happy vividness and buoyancy of -temperament that can ever throw itself passionately into the pursuits -and the impressions of the hour, and can then cast them aside without an -effort, he combined one of the sweetest of human tempers, one of the -warmest of human hearts.</p> - -<p>Nothing in his career is more remarkable than the spell which he cast -over men who in character and principles were as unlike as possible to -himself. “He is a man,” said Burke, “made to be loved, of the most -artless, candid, open, and benevolent disposition; disinterested in the -extreme, of a temper mild and placable to a fault, without one drop of -gall in his whole constitution.” “The power of a superior man,” said -Gibbon, “was blended in his attractive character with the softness and -simplicity of a child. Perhaps no human being was ever more perfectly -exempt from the taint of malevolence, vanity, or falsehood.” “He -possessed,” said Erskine, “above all men I ever knew, the most gentle, -and yet the most ardent spirit.” He retained amid all his vices a -capacity for warm and steady friendship, a capacity for struggling -passionately and persistently in opposition, for an unpopular cause; a -purity of taste and a love of literature which made him, with the -exception of Burke, the foremost scholar among the leading members of -the House of Com<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_393" id="page_393">{393}</a></span>mons; an earnestness, disinterestedness, and simplicity -of character which was admitted and admired even by his political -opponents.</p> - -<p>He resembled Bolingbroke in his power of passing at once from scenes of -dissipation into the House of Commons, and in retaining in public -affairs during the most disorderly periods of his private life all his -soundness of judgment and all his force of eloquence and of decision. -Gibbon described how he “prepared himself” for one important debate by -spending twenty-two previous hours at the hazard table and losing eleven -thousand pounds. Walpole extols the extraordinary brilliancy of the -speech which he made on another occasion, when he had but just arrived -from Newmarket and had been sitting up drinking the whole of the -preceding night, and he states that in the early period of his brilliant -opposition to the American policy of North he was rarely in bed before -five in the morning, or out of it before two in the afternoon. Yet, like -Bolingbroke, he never lost the taste and passion for study even at the -time when he was most immersed in a life of pleasure.</p> - -<p>At Eton and Oxford he had been a very earnest student, and few of his -contemporaries can have had a wider knowledge of the imaginative -literatures of Greece, Italy, or France. He was passionately fond of -poetry, and a singularly delicate and discriminating critic; but he -always looked upon literature chiefly from its ornamental and -imaginative side. Incomparably the most important book relating to the -art of government which appeared during his lifetime was the “Wealth of -Nations,” but Fox once owned that he had never read it; and the history -which was his one serious composition added nothing to his reputation. -In books, however, he found an unfailing solace in trouble and -disappointment. One morning, when one of his friends having heard that -Fox on the previous night had been completely ruined at the -gaming-table, went to visit and console him, he found him tranquilly -reading Herodotus in the original.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_394" id="page_394">{394}</a></span> “What,” he said, “would you have a -man do who has lost his last shilling?”</p> - -<p>His merits as a politician can only he allowed with great deductions and -qualifications. But little stress should indeed be laid on the sudden -and violent change in his political principles, which was faintly -foreshadowed in 1772 and fully accomplished in 1774, though that change -did undoubtedly synchronize with his personal quarrel with Lord North. -Changes of principle and policy, which at forty or fifty would indicate -great instability of character, are very venial at twenty-four or -twenty-five, and from the time when Fox joined the Whig party his career -through long years of adversity and of trial was singularly consistent. -I can not, however, regard a politician either as a great statesman or a -great party leader who left so very little of permanent value behind -him, who offended so frequently and so bitterly the national feelings of -his countrymen, who on two memorable occasions reduced his party to the -lowest stage of depression, and who failed so signally during a long -public life in winning the confidence of the nation.</p> - -<p>His failure is the more remarkable as one of the features most -conspicuous both in his speeches and his letters is the general -soundness of his judgment, and his opinions during the greater part of -his life were singularly free from every kind of violence, exaggeration, -and eccentricity. Much of it was due to his private life, much to his -divergence from popular opinion on the American question and on the -question of the French Revolution, and much also to an extraordinary -deficiency in the art of party management, and to the frequent -employment of language which, though eminently adapted to the immediate -purposes of debate, was certain from its injudicious energy to be -afterward quoted against him. Like more than one great master of words, -he was trammeled and injured at every stage of his career by his own -speeches. The extreme shock which the disastrous coalition of 1784 gave -to the public opinion of Eng<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_395" id="page_395">{395}</a></span>land was largely, if not mainly, due to the -outrageous violence of the language with which Fox had in the preceding -years denounced Lord North, and a similar violence made his breach with -the court irrevocable, and greatly aggravated his difference with the -nation on the question of the French Revolution.</p> - -<p>But if his rank as a statesman and as a party leader is by no means of -the highest order, he stood, by the concurrent testimony of all his -contemporaries, in the very first line, if not in the very first place, -among English parliamentary debaters. He threw the whole energy of his -character into his career, and he practiced it continually till he -attained a dexterity in debate which to his contemporaries appeared -little less than miraculous. “During five whole sessions,” he once said, -“I spoke every night but one, and I regret only that I did not speak on -that night.” With a delivery that in the beginning of his speeches was -somewhat slow and hesitating, with little method, with great repetition, -with no grace of gesture, with an utter indifference to the mere oratory -of display, thinking of nothing but how to convince and persuade the -audience who were immediately before him, never for a moment forgetting -the vital issue, never employing an argument which was not completely -level with the apprehensions of his audience, he possessed to the very -highest degree the debating qualities which an educated political -assembly of Englishmen most highly value.</p> - -<p>The masculine vigor and strong common sense of his arguments, his -unfailing lucidity, his power of grasping in a moment the essential -issue of a debate, his skill in hitting blots and throwing the arguments -on his own side into the most vivid and various lights, his marvelous -memory in catching up the scattered threads of a debate, the rare -combination in his speeches of the most glowing vehemence of style with -the closest and most transparent reasoning, and the air of intense -conviction which he threw into every discussion, had never been -surpassed. He was one of the fair<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_396" id="page_396">{396}</a></span>est of debaters, and it was said that -the arguments of his opponents were very rarely stated with such -masterly power as by Fox himself before he proceeded to grapple with, -and to overthrow them.</p> - -<p>He possessed to the highest degree what Walpole called the power of -“declaiming argument,” and that combination of rapidity and soundness of -judgment which is the first quality of a debater. “Others,” said Sir -George Savile, “may have had more stock, but Fox had more ready money -about him than any of his party.” “I believe,” said Lord Carlisle, -“there never was a person yet created who had the faculty of reasoning -like him.” “Nature,” said Horace Walpole, “had made him the most -wonderful reasoner of the age.” “He possessed beyond all moderns,” wrote -Mackintosh, “that union of reason, simplicity, and vehemence which -formed the prince of orators.” “Had he been bred to the bar,” wrote -Philip Francis, “he would in my judgment have made himself in a shorter -time, and with much less application than any other man, the most -powerful litigant that ever appeared there.” “He rose by slow degrees,” -said Burke, “to be the most brilliant and accomplished debater the world -ever saw.” His finest speeches were wholly unpremeditated, and the -complete subordination in them of all rhetorical and philosophical -ambition to the immediate purpose of the debate has greatly impaired -their permanent value; but, even in the imperfect fragments that remain, -the essential qualities of his eloquence may be plainly seen.</p> - -<h2><a name="JEAN_PAUL_MARAT" id="JEAN_PAUL_MARAT"></a>JEAN PAUL MARAT.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[A leader of the revolutionary Reign of Terror in France, born in -1744, assassinated by Charlotte Corday in 1793. His energy and -ferocity made him a power, which he never could have become by his -talents. He was the right hand of Robespierre, and the principal -agent in the destruction of the Girondist party in 1793. With -Danton and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_397" id="page_397">{397}</a></span> Robespierre he formed the triumvirate which turned -France into a vast human shambles.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Three</span> men among the Jacobins—Marat, Danton, and Robespierre—merited -distinction and possessed authority. Owing to a malformation, or -distortion, of head and heart, they fulfilled the requisite conditions. -Of the three, Marat is the most monstrous; he borders on the lunatic, of -which he displays the chief characteristics—furious exaltation, -constant overexcitement, feverish restlessness, an inexhaustible -propensity for scribbling, that mental automatism and tetanus of the -will under the constraint and rule of a fixed idea, and, in addition to -this, the usual physical symptoms, such as sleeplessness, a livid tint, -bad blood, foulness of dress and person, with, during the last five -months of his life, irritations and eruptions over his whole body. -Issuing from incongruous races, born of a mixed blood, and tainted with -serious moral commotions, he harbors within him a singular germ; -physically he is an abortion, morally a pretender, and one who covets -all places of distinction.</p> - -<p>His father, who was a physician, intended from his early childhood that -he should be a <i>savant</i>; his mother, an idealist, meant that he should -be a philanthropist, while he himself always steered his course toward -both summits. “At five years of age,” he says, “it would have pleased me -to be a schoolmaster, at fifteen a professor, at eighteen an author, and -a creative genius at twenty,” and afterward, up to the last, an apostle -and martyr to humanity. “From my earliest infancy I had an intense love -of fame, which changed its object at various stages of my life, but -which never left me for a moment.” He rambled over Europe or vegetated -in Paris for thirty years, living a nomadic life in subordinate -positions; hissed as an author, distrusted as a man of science, and -ignored as a philosopher; a third rate political writer, aspiring to -every sort of celebrity and to every honor, constantly presenting -himself as a candidate and as con<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_398" id="page_398">{398}</a></span>stantly rejected—too great a -disproportion between his faculties and ambition.</p> - -<p>Talentless, possessing no critical acumen, and of mediocre intelligence, -he was fitted only to teach some branch of the sciences, or to practice -some one of the arts, either as professor or doctor, more or less bold -and lucky, or to follow, with occasional slips on one side or the other, -some path clearly marked out for him. Never did man with such -diversified culture possess such an incurably perverted intellect. Never -did man, after so many abortive speculations and such repeated -malpractices, conceive and maintain so high an opinion of himself. Each -of these two sources in him augments the other; through his faculty of -not seeing things as they are, he attributes to himself virtue and -genius; satisfied that he possesses genius and virtue, he regards his -misdeeds as merits and his crotchets as truths.</p> - -<p>Thenceforth, and spontaneously, his malady runs its own course and -becomes complex; next to the ambitious delirium comes the <i>mania for -persecution</i>. In effect, the evident or demonstrated truths which he -supplies should strike the public at once; if they burn slowly or miss -fire, it is owing to their being stamped out by enemies or the envious; -manifestly, they have conspired against him, and against him plots have -never ceased. First came the philosophers’ plot; when his treatise on -“Man” reached Paris from Amsterdam, “they felt the blow I struck at -their principles and had the book stopped at the custom-house.” Next -came the plot of the doctors, who “ruefully estimated my enormous gains. -Were it necessary, I could prove that they often met together to -consider the best way to destroy my reputation.” Finally, came the plot -of the academicians; “the disgraceful persecution I had to undergo from -the Academy of Sciences for two years, after being satisfied that my -discoveries on light upset all that it had done for a century, and that -I was quite indifferent about becoming a member of its body.... Would it -be believed that these scientific charlatans suc<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_399" id="page_399">{399}</a></span>ceeded in underrating -my discoveries throughout Europe, in exciting every society of <i>savants</i> -against me, and in closing against me all the newspapers!” Naturally, -the would-be-persecuted man defends himself—that is to say, he attacks. -Naturally, as he is the aggressor, he is repulsed and put down, and, -after creating imaginary enemies, he creates real ones, especially in -politics, where, on principle, he daily preaches insurrection and -murder.</p> - -<p>Naturally, in fine, he is prosecuted, convicted at the Chatelet Court, -tracked by the police, obliged to fly and wander from one hiding-place -to another; to live like a bat “in a cellar, underground, in a dark -dungeon”; once, says his friend Panis, he passed “six weeks on one of -his buttocks,” like a madman in his cell, face to face with his -reveries. It is not surprising that, with such a system, the reverie -should become more intense, more and more gloomy, and at last settle -down into a <i>confirmed nightmare</i>; that, in his distorted brain, objects -should appear distorted; that, even in full daylight, men and things -should seem awry, as in a magnifying, dislocating mirror; that -frequently, on the numbers (of his journal) appearing too blood-thirsty, -and his chronic disease too acute, his physician should bleed him to -arrest these attacks and prevent their return. When a madman sees -everywhere around him—on the floors, on the walls, on the -ceiling—toads, scorpions, spiders, swarms of crawling, loathsome -vermin, he thinks only of crushing them, and the disease enters on its -last stage; after the ambitious delirium, the mania for persecution, and -the settled nightmare, comes the homicidal mania. At the outset a few -lives would have sufficed: “Five hundred heads ought to have fallen when -the Bastile was taken, and all would then have gone on well.” But, -through lack of foresight and timidity, the evil was allowed to spread, -and the more it spread the larger the amputation should have been. With -the sure, keen eye of the surgeon, Marat gives its dimensions; he has -made his calculation beforehand. In September,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_400" id="page_400">{400}</a></span> 1792, in the Council at -the Commune, he estimates approximatively forty thousand as the number -of heads that should be laid low. Six weeks later, the social abscess -having enormously increased, the figures swell in proportion; he now -demands two hundred and seventy thousand heads, always on the score of -humanity, “to insure public tranquillity,” on condition that the -operation be intrusted to him, as the summary, temporary justiciary. -Save this last point the rest is granted to him; it is unfortunate that -he could not see with his own eyes the complete fulfillment of his -programme, the batches condemned by the revolutionary tribunal, the -massacres of Lyons and Toulon, the drownings of Nantes. From first to -last he was in the right line of the revolution; lucid on account of his -blindness, thanks to his crazy logic, thanks to the concordance of his -personal malady with the public malady, to the precocity of his complete -madness alongside of the incomplete or tardy madness of the rest, he -alone steadfast, remorseless, triumphant, perched aloft, at the first -bound, on the sharp pinnacle, which his rivals dared not climb, or only -stumbled up.</p> - -<h2><a name="PRINCE_TALLEYRAND" id="PRINCE_TALLEYRAND"></a>PRINCE TALLEYRAND.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By ARCHIBALD ALISON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Charles Maurice Prince de Talleyrand-Perigord, one of the most -distinguished of modern French statesmen and diplomatists, born in -1754, died in 1838. Originally a churchman, he became Bishop of -Autun in 1788, though notorious for loose and licentious living. -During the period of the revolution Talleyrand was in England and -America. He returned to France in 1797, and under the Directory was -called to the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. He was of great -assistance to Napoleon in accomplishing his <i>coup d’état</i>, and -thenceforward was the French ruler’s trusted adviser in all matters -of state till 1807, when a coldness grew on Napoleon’s part. -Talleyrand’s bitter and pungent criticisms on Napoleon’s policy so -enraged the emperor that he finally deprived him of his lucrative -offices. In 1812 he foretold the coming<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_401" id="page_401">{401}</a></span> downfall of Napoleon, and -the accomplishment of the prediction achieved for him the -admiration of Europe. While the allies were advancing on Paris in -1814, Talleyrand was in secret communication with them. After the -restoration of the Bourbons, Talleyrand took but little part in -public affairs till 1830, when, as ambassador to England, he -negotiated an important treaty settling the status of the peninsula -kingdoms of Spain and Portugal.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Never</span> was character more opposite to that of the Russian autocrat than -that of his great coadjutor in the pacification and settlement of -Europe, Prince Talleyrand. This most remarkable man was born at Paris in -1754, so that in 1814 he was already sixty years of age. He was -descended of an old family, and had for his maternal aunt the celebrated -Princess of Ursius, who played so important a part in the war of the -succession at the court of Philippe V.<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> Being destined for the -Church, he early entered the seminary of St. Sulpice, and even there was -remarkable for the delicate vein of sarcasm, nice discrimination, and -keen penetration, for which he afterward became so distinguished in -life. At the age of twenty-six he was appointed agent-general for the -clergy, and in that capacity his administrative talents were so -remarkable that they procured for him the situation of Bishop of Autun, -which he held in 1789, when the revolution broke out. So remarkable had -his talents become at this period that Mirabeau, in his secret -correspondence with Berlin, pointed him out as one of the most eminent -men of the age.</p> - -<p>He was elected representative of the clergy of his diocese for the -Constitute Assembly, and was one of the first of that rank in the Church -who voted on the 29th of May for the junction of the ecclesiastical body -with the <i>Tiers État</i>. He also took the lead in all the measures, then -so popular, which had for their object to spoliate the Church, and apply -its possessions to the service of the state; accordingly, he him<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_402" id="page_402">{402}</a></span>self -proposed the suppression of tithes and the application of the property -of the Church to the public treasury. In all these measures he was deaf -to the remonstrances of the clergy whom he represented, and already he -had severed all the cords which bound him to the Church.</p> - -<p>His ruling principle was not any peculiar enmity to religion, but a -fixed determination to adhere to the dominant party, whatever it was, -whether in Church or state; to watch closely the signs of the times, and -throw in his lot with that section of the community which appeared -likely to gain the superiority. In February, 1790, he was appointed -President of the Assembly, and from that time forward, down to its -dissolution, he took a leading part in all its measures. He was not, -however, an orator; knowledge of men and prophetic sagacity were his -great qualifications. Generally silent in the hall of debate, he soon -gained the lead in the council of deliberation or committee of -management. He officiated as constitutional bishop to the great scandal -of the more orthodox clergy in the great <i>fête</i> on the 14th of July, -1790, in the Champ de Mars; but he had already become fearful of the -excesses of the popular party, and was, perhaps, the only person to whom -Mirabeau on his deathbed communicated his secret views and designs for -the restoration of the French monarchy.</p> - -<p>Early in 1792 he set out on a secret mission to London, where he -remained till the breaking out of the war in February, 1793, and enjoyed -much of the confidence of Mr. Pitt. He naturally enough became an object -of jealousy to both parties, being denounced by the Jacobins as an -emissary of the court, and by the Royalists as an agent of the Jacobins; -and, in consequence, he was accused and condemned in his absence, and -only escaped by withdrawing to America, where he remained till 1795 -engaged in commercial pursuits. It was not the least proof of his -address and sagacity that he thus avoided equally the crimes and the -dangers of the Reign of Terror, and returned to Paris<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_403" id="page_403">{403}</a></span> at the close of -that year with his head on his shoulders, and without deadly hostility -to any party in his heart.</p> - -<p>His influence and abilities soon caused themselves to be felt; the -sentence of death, which had been recorded against him in his absence, -was soon recalled; he became a leading member of the Club of Salm, which -in 1797 was established to counterbalance the efforts of the Royalists -in the Club of Clichy; and on the triumph of the revolutionists by the -violence of Augereau in July, 1797, he was appointed Minister of Foreign -Affairs. Nevertheless, aware of the imbecility of the directorial -government, he entered warmly into the views of Napoleon, upon his -return from Egypt, for its overthrow. He was again made Minister of -Foreign Affairs by that youthful conqueror after the 18th Brumaire, and -continued, with some few interruptions, to be the soul of all foreign -negotiations and the chief director of foreign policy, down to the -measures directed against Spain in 1807. On that occasion, however, his -wonted sagacity did not desert him; he openly disapproved of the attack -on the peninsula, and was, in consequence, dismissed from office, which -he did not again hold till he was appointed chief of the provisional -government on the 1st of April, 1814. He had thus the singular address, -though a leading character under both <i>régimes</i>, to extricate himself -both from the crimes of the revolution and the misfortunes of the -Empire.</p> - -<p>He was no ordinary man who could accomplish so great a prodigy and yet -retain such influence as to step, as it were, by common consent into the -principal direction of affairs on the overthrow of Napoleon. His power -of doing so depended not merely on his great talents; they alone, if -unaccompanied by other qualifications, would inevitably have brought him -to the guillotine under the first government or the prisons of state -under the last. It was his extraordinary versatility and flexibility of -disposition, and the readiness with which he accommodated himself to -every<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_404" id="page_404">{404}</a></span> change of government and dynasty which he thought likely to be -permanent, that mainly contributed to this extraordinary result. Such -was his address that, though the most changeable character in the whole -revolution, he contrived never to lose either influence or reputation by -all his tergiversations; but, on the contrary, went on constantly rising -to the close of his career, when above eighty years of age, in weight, -fortune, and consideration.</p> - -<p>The very fact of his having survived, both in person and influence, so -many changes of government, which had proved fatal to almost all his -contemporaries, of itself constituted a colossal reputation; and when he -said, with a sarcastic smile, on taking the oath of fidelity to Louis -Philippe in 1830, “<i>C’est le treisiéme</i>,” the expression, repeated from -one end of Europe to the other, produced a greater admiration for his -address than indignation at his perfidy.</p> - -<p>He has been well described as the person in existence who had the least -hand in producing, and the greatest power of profiting, by revolutions. -He was not destitute of original thought, but wholly without the -generous feeling, the self-forgetfulness, which prompt the great in -character as well as talent to bring forth their conceptions in word or -action, at whatever hazard to themselves or their fortunes. His object -always was not to direct, but to observe and guide the current; he never -opposed it when he saw it was irresistible, nor braved its dangers where -it threatened to be perilous, but quietly withdrew until an opportunity -occurred, by the destruction alike of its supporters and its opponents, -to obtain its direction. In this respect his talents very closely -resembled those of Metternich, of whom a character has already been -drawn; but he was less consistent than the wary Austrian diplomatist, -and, though equaled by him in dissimulation, he was far his superior in -perfidy.</p> - -<p>It cost him nothing to contradict and violate his oaths whenever it -suited his interest to do so, and the extraordinary and almost unbroken -success of his career affords, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_405" id="page_405">{405}</a></span> well as that of Napoleon, the most -striking confirmation of the profound saying of Johnson—that no man -ever raised himself from private life to the supreme direction of -affairs, in whom great abilities were not combined with certain -meannesses, which would have proved altogether fatal to him in ordinary -life.</p> - -<p>Yet was he without any of the great vices of the revolution; his -selfishness was constant, his cupidity unbounded, his hands often -sullied by gold, but he was not cruel or unforgiving in his disposition, -and few, if any, deeds of blood stain his memory. His witticisms and -<i>bon mots</i> were admirable, and repeated from one end of Europe to the -other; yet was his reputation in this respect, perhaps, greater than the -reality, for, by common consent, every good saying at Paris during his -life-time was ascribed to the ex-Bishop of Autun. But none perhaps more -clearly reveals his character and explains his success in life than the -celebrated one, “That the principal object of language is to conceal the -thought.”</p> - -<h2><a name="GEORGE_JACQUES_DANTON" id="GEORGE_JACQUES_DANTON"></a>GEORGE JACQUES DANTON.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[A principal leader in French revolutionary times, born 1759, -executed 1794. He was one of the first to advocate violent -measures, organized the attack on the Tuileries in 1792, and was -principally instrumental in bringing on the dreadful September -massacres of the same year, when all those confined in the Paris -prisons were slaughtered. On being elected to the convention, he -was foremost in forcing on the trial of the king, and afterward, as -a member of the Committee of Public Safety, in breaking the power -of the Girondists, though he would have spared their lives. He -incurred the hate of Robespierre by those inclinations to mercy and -moderation which would have put an end to the Reign of Terror, and -was sent to the scaffold by the plots of his cunning and implacable -adversary.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Between</span> the demagogue and the highwayman the resemblance is close; both -are leaders of bands, and each<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_406" id="page_406">{406}</a></span> requires an opportunity to organize his -band. Danton, to organize his band, required the revolution. “Of low -birth, without a patron,” penniless, every office being filled, and “the -Paris bar unattainable,” admitted a lawyer after “a struggle,” he for a -long time strolled about the streets without a brief, or frequented the -coffee-houses, the same as similar men nowadays frequent the beer-shops. -At the Café de l’École, the proprietor, a good-natured old fellow “in a -small round perruque, gray coat, and a napkin on his arm,” circulated -among his tables smiling blandly, while his daughter sat in the rear as -cashier. Danton chatted with her, and demanded her hand in marriage. To -obtain her he had to mend his ways, purchase an attorneyship in the -Court of the Royal Council, and find bondsmen and indorsers in his small -native town.</p> - -<p>Wedded and lodged in the gloomy Passage du Commerce, “more burdened with -debts than with causes,” tied down to a sedentary profession which -demands vigorous application, accuracy, a moderate tone, a respectable -style, and blameless deportment; obliged to keep house on so small a -scale that, without the help of a <i>louis</i> regularly advanced to him each -week by his coffee-house father-in-law, he could not make both ends -meet; his free-and-easy tastes, his alternately impetuous and indolent -disposition, his love of enjoyment and of having his own way, his rude, -violent instincts, his expansiveness, creativeness, and activity, all -rebel; he is ill-calculated for the quiet routine of our civil careers; -it is not the steady discipline of an old society that suits him, but -the tumultuous brutality of a society going to pieces, or one in a state -of formation. In temperament and character he is a <i>barbarian</i>, and a -barbarian born to command his fellow-creatures, like this or that vassal -of the sixth century or baron of the tenth century.</p> - -<p>A colossus with the head of a “Tartar,” pitted with the small-pox, -tragically and terribly ugly, with a mask convulsed like that of a -growling “bull-dog,” with small, cav<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_407" id="page_407">{407}</a></span>ernous, restless eyes buried under -the huge wrinkles of a threatening brow, with a thundering voice, and -moving and acting like a combatant, full-blooded, boiling over with -passion and energy, his strength in its outbursts seeming illimitable, -like the forces of Nature, roaring like a bull when speaking, and heard -through closed windows fifty yards off in the street, employing -immoderate imagery, intensely in earnest, trembling with indignation, -revenge, and patriotic sentiments, able to arouse savage instincts in -the most tranquil breast and generous instincts in the most brutal, -profane, using emphatic terms, cynical, not monotonously so, and -affectedly like Hébert, but spontaneously and to the point, full of -crude jests worthy of Rabelais, possessing a stock of jovial sensuality -and good-humor, cordial and familiar in his ways, frank, friendly in -tone; in short, outwardly and inwardly the best-fitted for winning the -confidence and sympathy of a Gallic-Parisian populace, and all -contributing to the formation of “his inborn, practical popularity,” and -to make of him “a grand seignior of <i>sans-culotterie</i>.”</p> - -<p>Thus endowed for playing a part, there is a strong temptation to act it -the moment the theatre is ready, whether this be a mean one, got up for -the occasion, and the actors rogues, scamps, and prostitutes, or the -part an ignoble one, murderous, and finally fatal to him who undertakes -it. He comprehended from the first the ultimate object and definite -result of the revolution, that is to say, the dictatorship of the -violent minority. Immediately after the “14th of July,” 1789, he -organized in his quarter of the city a small independent republic, -aggressive and predominant, the center of the faction, a refuge for the -riff-raff and a rendezvous for fanatics, a pandemonium composed of every -available madcap, every rogue, visionary, shoulder-hitter, newspaper -scribbler, and stump-speaker, either a secret or avowed plotter of -murder, Camille Desmoulins, Fréron, Hébert, Chaumette, Clootz, -Théroigne, Marat—while, in this more than Jacobin state, the model in -anticipation of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_408" id="page_408">{408}</a></span> that he is to establish later, he reigns, as he will -afterward reign, the permanent president of the district, commander of -the battalion, orator of the club, and the concocter of bold -undertakings. In order to set the machine up, he cleared the ground, -fused the metal, hammered out the principal pieces, filed off the -blisterings, designed the action, adjusted the minor wheels, set it -a-going and indicated what it had to do, and, at the same time, he -forged the plating which guarded it from the foreigner and against all -outward violence. The machine being his, why, after constructing it, did -he not serve as its engineer?</p> - -<p>Because, if competent to construct it, he was not qualified to manage -it. In a crisis he may take hold of the wheel himself, excite an -assembly or a mob in his favor, carry things with a high hand, and -direct an executive committee for a few weeks. But he dislikes regular, -persistent labor; he is not made for studying documents, for poring over -papers, and confining himself to administrative routine. Never, like -Robespierre and Billaud, can he attend to both official and police -duties at the same time, carefully reading minute daily reports, -annotating mortuary lists, extemporizing ornate abstractions, coolly -enunciating falsehoods, and acting out the patient, satisfied -inquisitor; and, especially, he can never become the systematic -executioner.</p> - -<p>On the one hand, his eyes are not obscured by the gray veil of theory; -he does not regard men through the “Contrat-Social” as a sum of -arithmetical units, but as they really are, living, suffering, shedding -their blood, especially those he knows, each with his peculiar -physiognomy and demeanor. Compassion is excited by all this when one has -any feeling, and he had. Danton had a heart; he had the quick -sensibilities of a man of flesh and blood stirred by the primitive -instincts, the good ones along with the bad ones, instincts which -culture had neither impaired nor deadened, which allowed him to plan and -permit the September massacre, but which did not allow him to practice, -daily and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_409" id="page_409">{409}</a></span> blindly, systematic and wholesale murder. Already in -September, “cloaking his pity under his bellowing,” he had shielded or -saved many eminent men from the butchers. When the ax is about to fall -on the Girondists, he is “ill with grief” and despair. “I am unable to -save them,” he exclaimed, “and big tears streamed down his cheeks.”</p> - -<p>On the other hand, his eyes are not covered by the bandage of incapacity -or lack of forethought. He detected the innate vice of the system, the -inevitable and approaching suicide of the revolution. “The Girondists -forced us to throw ourselves upon the <i>sans-culotterie</i> which has -devoured them, which will devour us, and which will eat itself up.” “Let -Robespierre and Saint-Just alone, and there will soon be nothing left in -France but a Thebaid of political Trappists.” At the end he sees more -clearly still. “On a day like this I organized the revolutionary -tribunal.... I ask pardon for it of God and man.... In revolutions, -authority remains with the greatest scoundrels.... It is better to be a -poor fisherman than govern men.”</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, he professed to govern them; he constructed a new machine -for the purpose, and, deaf to its creaking, it worked in conformity with -its structure and the impulse he gave to it. It towers before him, this -sinister machine, with its vast wheel and iron cogs grinding all France, -their multiplied teeth pressing out each individual life, its steel -blade constantly rising and falling, and, as it plays faster and faster, -daily exacting a larger and larger supply of human material, while those -who furnish this supply are held to be as insensible and as senseless as -itself. Danton can not, or will not, be so. He gets out of the way, -diverts himself, gambles, forgets; he supposes that the titular -decapitators will probably consent to take no notice of him; in any -case, they do not pursue him; “they would not dare do it.... No one must -lay hands on me; I am the ark.” At the worst he prefers “to be -guillotined rather than guillotine.” Having said or thought this, he is -ripe for the scaffold.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_410" id="page_410">{410}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="ROBESPIERRE" id="ROBESPIERRE"></a>ROBESPIERRE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Maximilian Marie Isadore de Robespierre, the most powerful figure -among the French revolutionists, born 1758, guillotined 1794. By -profession an attorney, he was elected to the Constituent Assembly, -the States General, in 1789, from Arras. Profoundly imbued with the -theories of Rousseau, he was from the beginning a fierce assailant -of the monarchy, and after Mirabeau’s death rapidly acquired a -commanding position in public affairs. In the National Convention, -which succeeded the dissolution of the States General and the -abdication and imprisonment of Louis XVI, Robespierre was a -prominent leader, and identified himself with the extreme party, -the Jacobins, called the “Mountain,” from the elevated seats on -which they sat. During this earlier part of his political career he -affected opposition to capital punishment, and remonstrated with -Danton against the September massacres. He led the Jacobins, -however, in demanding the trial and death of the king, and proposed -the decree organizing the Committee of Public Safety, which was -clothed with omnipotent sway. When he became a member of this -terrible body he speedily instituted what is known as “the Reign of -Terror,” beginning with the destruction of the Girondists, against -whom he formulated the deadly epigram: “There are periods in -revolutions when to live is a crime.” Danton was sacrificed to his -envy and fears as a dangerous rival. Robespierre’s overthrow, after -about a year of practical dictatorship, was owing to two causes, -which inspired the wavering courage of his opponents in the -convention. The mistress of Tallien, a prominent revolutionist, lay -in prison expecting a daily call to the guillotine. Carnot (the -grandfather of the present chief of the French republic) attended a -dinner-party at which Robespierre was present. The heat of the day -had caused the guests to throw off their coats, and Carnot in -looking for a paper took Robespierre’s coat by mistake, in the -pocket of which he saw the memorandum containing the names of those -prescribed for the guillotine, among them his own and those of -other guests. On the 9th Thermidor, July 27, 1794, occurred the -outbreak in the convention which broke Roberspierre’s power, and on -the following day sent him to the guillotine, thus ending the Reign -of Terror.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marat</span> and Danton finally become effaced, or efface themselves, and the -stage is left to Robespierre who absorbs<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_411" id="page_411">{411}</a></span> attention. If we would -comprehend him we must look at him as he stands in the midst of his -surroundings. At the last stage of an intellectual vegetation passing -away, he remains on the last branch of the eighteenth century, the most -abortive and driest offshoot of the classical spirit. He has retained -nothing of a worn-out system of philosophy but its lifeless dregs and -well-conned formulæ, the formulæ of Rousseau, Mably, and Raynal, -concerning “the people, nature, reason, liberty, tyrants, factions, -virtue, morality,” a ready-made vocabulary, expressions too ample, the -meaning of which, ill-defined by the masters, evaporates in the hands of -the disciple. He never tries to get at this; his writings and speeches -are merely long strings of vague abstract periods; there is no telling -fact in them, no distinct, characteristic detail, no appeal to the eye -evoking a living image, no personal, special observation, no clear, -frank, original impression.</p> - -<p>It might be said of him that he never saw anything with his own eyes, -that he neither could nor would see, that false conceptions have -intervened and fixed themselves between him and the object; he combines -these in logical sequence, and simulates the absent thought by an -affected jargon, and this is all. The other Jacobins alongside of him -likewise use the same scholastic jargon; but none of them expatiate on -it so lengthily. For hours, we grope after him in the vague shadows of -political speculation, in the cold and perplexing mist of didactic -generalities, trying in vain to make something out of his colorless -tirades, and we grasp nothing. We then, astonished, ask what all this -talk amounts to, and why he talks at all; the answer is, that he has -said nothing and that he talks only for the sake of talking, the same as -a sectary preaching to his congregation, neither the preacher nor his -audience ever wearying, the one of turning the dogmatic crank, and the -other of listening. So much the better if the hopper is empty; the -emptier it is the easier and faster the crank turns. And better still, -if the empty term he se<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_412" id="page_412">{412}</a></span>lects is used in a contrary sense; the sonorous -words justice, humanity, mean to him piles of human heads, the same as a -text from the gospels means to a grand inquisitor the burning of -heretics.</p> - -<p>Now, his first passion, his principal passion, is literary vanity. Never -was the chief of a party, sect, or government, even at critical moments, -such an incurable, insignificant rhetorician, so formal, so pompous, and -so vapid. On the eve of the 9th of Thermidor, when it was necessary to -conquer or die, he enters the tribune with a set speech, written and -rewritten, polished and repolished, overloaded with studied ornaments -and bits for effect, coated by dint of time and labor, with the academic -varnish, the glitter of symmetrical antitheses, rounded periods, -exclamations, preteritions, apostrophes, and other tricks of the pen. -There is no sign of true inspiration in his elaborate eloquence, nothing -but recipes, and those of a worn-out art—Greek and Roman commonplaces, -Socrates and the hemlock, Brutus and his dagger, classic metaphors like -“the flambeaux of discord,” and “the vessel of state,” words coupled -together and beauties of style which a pupil in rhetoric aims at on the -college bench; sometimes a grand bravura air, so essential for parade in -public; oftentimes a delicate strain of the flute, for, in those days, -one must have a tender heart; in short, Marmontel’s method in -“Belisarius,” or that of Thomas in his “Eloges,” all borrowed from -Rousseau, but of inferior quality, like a sharp, thin voice strained to -imitate a rich, powerful voice; a sort of involuntary parody, and the -more repulsive because a word ends in a blow, because a sentimental, -declamatory Trissotin poses as statesman, because the studied elegances -of the closet become pistol shots aimed at living breasts, because an -epithet skillfully directed sends a man to the guillotine.</p> - -<p>Robespierre, unlike Danton, has no cravings. He is sober; he is not -tormented by his senses; if he gives way to them, it is only no further -than he can help, and with a bad<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_413" id="page_413">{413}</a></span> grace; in the Rue Saintonge in Paris, -“for seven months,” says his secretary, “I knew of but one woman that he -kept company with, and he did not treat her very well.... Very often he -would not let her enter his room”; when busy, he must not be disturbed; -he is naturally steady, hard-working, studious and fond of seclusion, at -college a model pupil, at home in his province an attentive advocate, a -punctual deputy in the Assembly, everywhere free of temptation and -incapable of going astray. “Irreproachable” is the word which, from -early youth, an inward voice constantly repeats to him in low tones to -console him for obscurity and patience. Thus has he ever been, is now, -and ever will be; he says this to himself, tells others so, and on this -foundation, all of a piece, he builds up his character. He is not, like -Desmoulins, to be seduced by dinners; like Barnave, by flattery; like -Mirabeau and Danton, by money; like the Girondists, by the insinuating -charm of ancient politeness and select society; like the Dantonists, by -the bait of joviality and unbounded license—he is the incorruptible.</p> - -<p>“Alone, or nearly alone, I do not allow myself to be corrupted; alone, -or nearly alone, I do not compromise the right; which two merits I -possess in the highest degree. A few others may live correctly, but they -oppose or betray principles; a few others profess to have principles, -but they do not live correctly. No one else leads so pure a life or is -so loyal to principles; no one else joins to so fervent a worship of -truth so strict a practice of virtue; I am the unique.” What can be more -agreeable than this mute soliloquy? It is gently heard the first day in -Robespierre’s address to the Third Estate of Arras; it is uttered aloud -the last day in his great speech in the convention; during the interval, -it crops out and shines through all his compositions, harangues, or -reports, in exordiums, parentheses, and perorations, permeating every -sentence like the drone of a bagpipe. In three years a chorus of a -thousand voices, which he formed and led indefatigably, rehearses to him -in unison his own litany,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_414" id="page_414">{414}</a></span> his most sacred creed, the hymn of three -stanzas composed by him in his own honor, and which he daily recites to -himself in a low tone of voice, and often in a loud one: “Robespierre -alone has discovered the ideal citizen! Robespierre alone attains to it -without exaggeration or shortcomings! Robespierre alone is worthy of and -able to lead the revolution!” Cool infatuation carried thus far is -equivalent to a raging fever, and Robespierre almost attains to the -ideas and the ravings of Marat.</p> - -<p>First, in his own eyes, he, like Marat, is a persecuted man, and, like -Marat, he poses himself as a “martyr,” but more skillfully and keeping -within bounds, affecting the resigned and tender air of an innocent -victim, who, offering himself as a sacrifice, ascends to heaven, -bequeathing to mankind the imperishable souvenir of his virtues. “I -excite against me the self-love of everybody; I sharpen against me a -thousand daggers. I am a sacrifice to every species of hatred.... To the -enemies of my country, to whom my existence seems an obstacle to their -heinous plots, I am ready to sacrifice it, if their odious empire is to -endure; ... let their road to the scaffold be the pathway of crime, ours -shall be that of virtue; ... let the hemlock be got ready for me, I -await it on this hallowed spot. I shall at least bequeath to my country -an example of constant affection for it, and to the enemies of humanity -the disgrace of my death.”</p> - -<p>Naturally, as always with Marat, he sees around him only “evil-doers,” -“intriguers,” and “traitors.” Naturally, as with Marat, common sense -with him is perverted, and, like Marat again, he thinks at random. “I am -not obliged to reflect,” said he to Garat, “I always rely on first -impressions.” “For him,” says the same authority, “the best reasons are -suspicions,” and nought makes headway against suspicions, not even the -most positive evidence.</p> - -<p>Such assurance, equal to that of Marat, is terrible and worse in its -effect, for Robespierre’s list of conspirators is longer than that of -Marat. Political and social, in Mara<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_415" id="page_415">{415}</a></span>t’s mind, the list comprehends only -aristocrats and the rich; theological and moral in Robespierre’s mind, -it comprehends all atheists and dishonest persons—that is to say, -nearly the whole of his party. In this narrow mind, given up to -abstractions and habitually classifying men under two opposite headings, -whoever is not with him on the good side is against him on the bad side, -and, on the bad side, the common understanding between the factious of -every flag and the rogues of every degree is natural. Add all this -vermin to that which Marat seeks to crush out; it is no longer by -hundreds of thousands, but by millions, exclaim Baudot, Jean Bon St. -André, and Guffroy, that the guilty must be counted and heads laid low! -And all these heads, Robespierre, according to his maxims, must strike -off. He is well aware of this; hostile as his intellect may be to -precise ideas, he, when alone in his closet, face to face with himself, -sees clearly, as clearly as Marat. Marat’s chimera, on first spreading -out its wings, bore its frenzied rider swiftly onward to the charnel -house; that of Robespierre, fluttering and hobbling along, reaches the -goal in its turn; in its turn, it demands something to feed on, and the -rhetorician, the professor of principles, begins to calculate the -voracity of the monstrous brute on which he is mounted. Slower than the -other, this one is still more ravenous, for, with similar claws and -teeth, it has a vaster appetite. At the end of three years Robespierre -has overtaken Marat, at the extreme point reached by Marat at the -outset, and the theorist adopts the policy, the aim, the means, the -work, and almost the vocabulary of the maniac; armed dictatorship of the -urban mob, systematic maddening of the subsidized populace, war against -the bourgeoisie, extermination of the rich, proscription of opposition -writers, administrators, and deputies.</p> - -<p>Both monsters demand the same food; only, Robespierre adds “vicious men” -to the ration of his monster, by way of extra and preferable game. -Henceforth, he may in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_416" id="page_416">{416}</a></span> vain abstain from action, take refuge in his -rhetoric, stop his chaste ears, and raise his hypocritical eyes to -heaven, he can not avoid seeing or hearing under his immaculate feet the -streaming gore, and the bones crashing in the open jaws of the -insatiable monster which he has fashioned and on which he prances. -Destructive instincts, long repressed by civilization, thus devoted to -butchery, become aroused. His feline physiognomy, at first “that of a -domestic cat, restless but mild, changes into the savage mien of the -wild-cat, and next to the ferocious mien of the tiger. In the -Constituent Assembly he speaks with a whine, in the convention he froths -at the mouth.” The monotonous drone of a stiff sub-professor changes -into the personal accent of furious passion; he hisses and grinds his -teeth; sometimes, on a change of scene, he affects to shed tears. But -his wildest outbursts are less alarming than his affected sensibility. -The festering grudges, corrosive envies, and bitter schemings which have -accumulated in his breast are astonishing. The gall vessels are full, -and the extravasated gall overflows on the dead. He never tires of -re-executing his guillotined adversaries, the Girondists, Chaumette, -Hébert, and especially Danton, probably because Danton was the active -agent in the revolution of which he was simply the incapable pedagogue; -he vents his posthumous hatred on this still warm corpse in artful -insinuations and obvious misrepresentations. Thus, inwardly corroded by -the venom it distills, his physical machine gets out of order, like that -of Marat, but with other symptoms. When speaking in the tribune “his -hands crisp with a sort of nervous contraction”; sudden tremors agitate -“his shoulders and neck, shaking him convulsively to and fro.” “His -bilious complexion becomes livid,” his eyelids quiver under his -spectacles, and how he looks! “Ah,” said a <i>Montagnard</i>, “you would have -voted as we did on the 9th of Thermidor, had you seen his green -eyeballs!” “Physically as well as morally,” he becomes a second Marat, -suffering all the more because his delirium is not steady, and be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_417" id="page_417">{417}</a></span>cause -his policy, being a moral one, forces him to exterminate on a grander -scale.</p> - -<p>But he is a discreet Marat, of a timid temperament, anxious, keeping his -thoughts to himself, made for a schoolmaster or a pleader, but not for -taking the lead or for governing, always acting hesitatingly, and -ambitious to be rather the Pope, than the dictator of the revolution. He -would prefer to remain a political Grandison; he keeps the mask on to -the very last, not only to the public and to others, but to himself and -in his inmost conscience. The mask, indeed, has adhered to his skin; he -can no longer distinguish one from the other; never did impostor more -carefully conceal intentions and acts under sophisms, and persuade -himself that the mask was his face, and that in telling a lie, he told -the truth.</p> - -<p>When nature and history combine to produce a character they succeed -better than even man’s imagination. Neither Moliere in his “Tartuffe,” -nor Shakespeare in his “Richard III,” dared bring on the stage a -hypocrite believing himself sincere, and a Cain that regarded himself as -an Abel.</p> - -<h2><a name="WILLIAM_PITT_THE_YOUNGER" id="WILLIAM_PITT_THE_YOUNGER"></a>WILLIAM PITT THE YOUNGER.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By JOHN RICHARD GREEN.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Son of the Earl of Chatham, born 1759, died 1806, and hardly less -distinguished than his father as a statesman and orator. He became -prime minister at the age of twenty-five, and showed a genius as -parliamentary leader which has never been surpassed and rarely -equaled, retaining him in power in spite of his feebleness in the -conduct of war and diplomacy. His great talents found their most -congenial field in the management of home affairs, being the -prototype of Mr. Gladstone in this respect. It is the younger -Pitt’s glory that with no able man in his own party to support him, -he held power so long unshaken by the incessant assaults of such -men as Burke, Fox, Sheridan, and Lord North.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Parliament came together after the overthrow of the Coalition, the -minister of twenty-five was master of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_418" id="page_418">{418}</a></span> England as no minister had been -before. Even the king yielded to his sway, partly through gratitude for -the triumph he had won for him over the Whigs, partly from a sense of -the madness which was soon to strike him down, but still more from a -gradual discovery that the triumph which he had won over his political -rivals had been won, not to the profit of the crown, but of the nation -at large. The Whigs, it was true, were broken, unpopular, and without a -policy, while the Tories clung to the minister who had “saved the king.” -But it was the support of a new political power that really gave his -strength to the young minister. The sudden rise of English industry was -pushing the manufacturer to the front; and all that the trading classes -loved in Chatham, his nobleness of temper, his consciousness of power, -his patriotism, his sympathy with a wider world than the world within -the Parliament house, they saw in his son. He had little indeed of the -poetic and imaginative side of Chatham’s genius, of his quick perception -of what was just and what was possible, his far-reaching conceptions of -national policy, his outlook into the future of the world.</p> - -<p>Pitt’s flowing and sonorous commonplaces rang hollow beside the broken -phrases which still make his father’s eloquence a living thing to -Englishmen. On the other hand, he possessed some qualities in which -Chatham was utterly wanting. His temper, though naturally ardent and -sensitive, had been schooled in a proud self-command. His simplicity and -good taste freed him from his father’s ostentation and extravagance. -Diffuse and commonplace as his speeches seem, they were adapted as much -by their very qualities of diffuseness and commonplace as by their -lucidity and good sense to the intelligence of the middle classes whom -Pitt felt to be his real audience. In his love of peace, his immense -industry, his dispatch of business, his skill in debate, his knowledge -of finance, he recalled Sir Robert Walpole; but he had virtues which -Walpole never possessed, and he was free from Walpole’s worst defects.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_419" id="page_419">{419}</a></span> -He was careless of personal gain. He was too proud to rule by -corruption. His lofty self-esteem left no room for any jealousy of -subordinates. He was generous in his appreciation of youthful merits; -and the “boys” he gathered round him, such as Canning and Lord -Wellesley, rewarded his generosity by a devotion which death left -untouched. With Walpole’s cynical inaction Pitt had no sympathy -whatever. His policy from the first was one of active reform, and he -faced every one of the problems, financial, constitutional, religious, -from which Walpole had shrunk. Above all, he had none of Walpole’s scorn -of his fellow-men. The noblest feature in his mind was its wide -humanity.</p> - -<p>His love for England was as deep and personal as his father’s love, but -of the sympathy with English passion and English prejudice which had -been at once his father’s weakness and strength he had not a trace. When -Fox taunted him with forgetting Chatham’s jealousy of France and his -faith that she was the natural foe of England, Pitt answered nobly that -“to suppose any nation can be unalterably the enemy of another is weak -and childish.” The temper of the time and the larger sympathy of man -with man, which especially marks the eighteenth century as a -turning-point in the history of the human race, was everywhere bringing -to the front a new order of statesmen, such as Turgot and Joseph II, -whose characteristics were a love of mankind and a belief that as the -happiness of the individual can only be secured by the general happiness -of the community to which he belongs, so the welfare of individual -nations can only be secured by the general welfare of the world. Of -these Pitt was one. But he rose high above the rest in the consummate -knowledge, and the practical force which he brought to the realization -of his aims.</p> - -<p>Pitt’s strength lay in finance; and he came forward at a time when the -growth of English wealth made a knowledge of finance essential to a -great minister. The progress of the nation was wonderful. Population -more than doubled dur<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_420" id="page_420">{420}</a></span>ing the eighteenth century, and the advance of -wealth was even greater than that of population. The war had added a -hundred millions to the national debt, but the burden was hardly felt. -The loss of America only increased the commerce with that country; and -industry had begun that great career which was to make Britain the -workshop of the world. Though England already stood in the first rank of -commercial states at the accession of George III, her industrial life at -home was mainly agricultural. The wool-trade had gradually established -itself in Norfolk, the West Riding of Yorkshire, and the counties of the -southwest; while the manufacture of cotton was still almost limited to -Manchester and Bolton, and remained so unimportant that in the middle of -the eighteenth century the export of cotton goods hardly reached the -value of fifty thousand a year. There was the same slow and steady -progress in the linen trade of Belfast and Dundee and the silks of -Spitalfields. The processes of manufacture were too rude to allow any -large increase of production. It was only where a stream gave force to -turn a mill-wheel that the wool-worker could establish his factory; and -cotton was as yet spun by hand in the cottages, the “spinsters” of the -family sitting with their distaffs round the weaver’s handloom. But had -the processes of manufacture been more efficient, they would have been -rendered useless by the want of a cheap and easy means of transport. The -older main roads, which had lasted fairly through the middle ages, had -broken down in later times before the growth of traffic and the increase -of wagons and carriages.</p> - -<p>The new lines of trade lay often along mere country lanes which had -never been more than horse-tracks. Much of the woolen trade, therefore, -had to be carried on by means of long trains of pack-horses; and in the -case of yet heavier goods, such as coal, distribution was almost -impracticable, save along the greater rivers or in districts accessible -from the sea. A new era began when the engineering genius of Brindley -joined<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_421" id="page_421">{421}</a></span> Manchester with its port of Liverpool in 1767, by a canal which -crossed the Irwell on a lofty aqueduct; the success of the experiment -soon led to the universal introduction of water-carriage, and Great -Britain was traversed in every direction by three thousand miles of -navigable canals. At the same time a new importance was given to the -coal which lay beneath the soil of England. The stores of iron which had -lain side by side with it in the northern counties had lain there -unworked through the scarcity of wood, which was looked upon as the only -fuel by which it could be smelted.</p> - -<p>In the middle of the eighteenth century a process for smelting iron with -coal turned out to be effective; and the whole aspect of the iron trade -was at once revolutionized. Iron was to become the working material of -the modern world; and it is its production of iron which more than all -else has placed England at the head of industrial Europe. The value of -coal as a means of producing mechanical force was revealed in the -discovery by which Watt in 1765 transformed the steam-engine from a mere -toy into the most wonderful instrument which human industry has ever had -at its command. The invention came at a moment when the existing supply -of manual labor could no longer cope with the demands of the -manufacturers. Three successive inventions in twelve years, that of the -spinning-jenny in 1764 by the weaver Hargreaves, of the spinning-machine -in 1768 by the barber Arkwright, of the “mule” by the weaver Crompton in -1776, were followed by the discovery of the power-loom. But these would -have been comparatively useless had it not been for the revelation of a -new and inexhaustible labor-force in the steam-engine. It was the -combination of such a force with such means of applying it that enabled -Britain during the terrible years of her struggle with France and -Napoleon to all but monopolize the woolen and cotton trades, and raised -her into the greatest manufacturing country that the world had seen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_422" id="page_422">{422}</a></span></p> - -<p>To deal wisely with such a growth required a knowledge of the laws of -wealth which would have been impossible at an earlier time. But it had -become possible in the days of Pitt. If books are to be measured by the -effect which they have produced on the fortunes of mankind the “Wealth -of Nations” must rank among the greatest of books. Its author was Adam -Smith, an Oxford scholar and a professor at Glasgow. Labor, he -contended, was the one source of wealth, and it was by freedom of labor, -by suffering the worker to pursue his own interest in his own way, that -the public wealth would best be promoted. Any attempt to force labor -into artificial channels, to shape by laws the course of commerce, to -promote special branches of industry in particular countries, or to fix -the character of the intercourse between one country and another, is not -only a wrong to the worker or the merchant, but actually hurtful to the -wealth of a state. The book was published in 1776, at the opening of the -American war, and studied by Pitt during his career as an undergraduate -at Cambridge. From that time he owned Adam Smith for his master. He had -hardly become minister before he took the principles of the “Wealth of -Nations” as the groundwork of his policy. The ten earlier years of his -rule marked a new point of departure in English statesmanship. Pitt was -the first English minister who really grasped the part which industry -was to play in promoting the welfare of the world. He was not only a -peace minister and a financier, as Walpole had been, but a statesman who -saw that the best security for peace lay in the freedom and widening of -commercial intercourse between nations; that public economy not only -lessened the general burdens but left additional capital in the hands of -industry; and that finance might be turned from a mere means of raising -revenue into a powerful engine of political and social improvement.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_423" id="page_423">{423}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="NAPOLEON_BONAPARTE" id="NAPOLEON_BONAPARTE"></a>NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By LOUIS ADOLPHE THIERS.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Emperor of France, born in Corsica 1769, died a prisoner on the -island of St. Helena in 1821. Educated at the military schools of -Brienne and Paris, Napoleon became a sous-lieutenant of artillery -at the age of sixteen. He had become a captain when the revolution -reached its height in the Reign of Terror. Though never an actor in -the horrors of Jacobin rule, he was supposed to have been a warm -friend of Robespierre. After the fall of the terrorists Napoleon -took the side of the convention, and at the head of its troops -dispersed the infuriated mob of Montagnards with the famous “whiff -of grapeshot” which blew up the last remains of the party of 1793. -After his marriage with Josephine Beauharnais, the young soldier -was appointed to the command of the army of Italy. In two years -Napoleon, in a series of splendid battles, annihilated four -Austrian armies, liberated Italy, and forced Austria to a -humiliating peace. After the failure of the Egyptian expedition -Napoleon returned to France, and by the <i>coup d’état</i> of December, -1799, attained supreme power as first consul. The second Italian -campaign of 1800 was no less brilliant than the first, culminating -in the battle of Marengo. In 1802 Napoleon was made life-consul, -“the swelling prologue of the imperial theme,” for nine months -later he assumed the title of emperor, and was crowned by Pope Pius -VII at Notre Dame. The year 1812 was the beginning of the disasters -which finally dethroned him. The terrible Russian campaign, and the -utter defeat of his arms in Spain by Lord Wellesley, afterward Duke -of Wellington, marked a change in the clock of destiny. The great -European coalition of 1813 brought overwhelming forces against him, -resulting in the great battle of Dresden, lasting three -days—October 16th, 17th, and 18th—which broke the French power. -The allies entered Paris, March 31, 1814, and Napoleon abdicated on -April 11th. His exile in Elba lasted less than ten months, and on -his return to France two hundred thousand men rallied to him at his -call. The battle of Waterloo, fought on June 15, 1815, ended in his -overwhelming defeat at the hands of the Duke of Wellington, -assisted by Marshal Blücher. Napoleon’s second abdication was -followed by his surrender to the English, and his exile to St. -Helena for the rest of his life.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Napoleon</span> was endowed by nature with a clear, penetrating, vast, -comprehensive, and peculiarly active mind,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_424" id="page_424">{424}</a></span> nor had he less decision of -character than clearness of intellect. He always seized at once the -decisive argument, in battle the most effective movement. To conceive, -resolve, and perform were with him but one indivisible act, so wonderful -was his rapidity, that not a moment was spent in reflection between -perception and action. Any obstacle presented to such a mind by a -trifling objection, by indolence, weakness, or disaffection, served but -to cause his anger to spring forth and cover you with its foam. Had he -chosen some civil profession where success can only be attained by -persuading men and winning them over, he might have endeavored to subdue -or moderate his fiery temperament, but flung into the career of arms, -and endowed with the sovereign faculty of seeing the surest means of -conquest at a glance, he became at one bound the ruler of Italy, at a -second the master of the French Republic, at a third the sovereign of -Europe.</p> - -<p>What wonder that a nature formed so impetuous by God should become more -so from success; what wonder if he were abrupt, violent, domineering, -and unbending in his resolutions! If apart from the battle-field he -exercised that tact so necessary in civil business, it was in the -council of state, though even there he decided questions with a sagacity -and clearness of judgment that astonished and subdued his hearers, -except on some few occasions when he was misled for a moment by passion -or want of sufficient knowledge of the subject under discussion. Both -nature and circumstances combined to make him the most despotic and -impetuous of men.</p> - -<p>In contemplating his career, it does not appear that this fiery, -despotic nature revealed itself at once or altogether. In his youth he -was lean, taciturn, and even sad—sad from concentrated ambition that -feeds upon itself until it finds an outlet and attains the object of its -desires. As a young man he was sometimes rude, morose, until becoming -the object of universal admiration he became more open, calm,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_425" id="page_425">{425}</a></span> and -communicative—lost the meagerness that made his countenance so -expressive, and, as one may say, unfolded himself. Consul for life, -emperor, conqueror at Marengo and Austerlitz, still exercising some -little restraint on himself, he seemed to have reached the apogee of his -moral existence; and his figure, then moderately stout, was radiant with -regular and manly beauty. But soon, when nations submitted and -sovereigns bowed before him, he was no longer restrained by respect for -man or even for nature. He dared, attempted all things; spoke without -restraint; was gay, familiar, and often intemperate in language. His -moral and physical nature became more developed, nor did his extreme -stoutness diminish his Olympian beauty; his fuller countenance still -preserved the eagle glance; and when descending from his accustomed -height from which he excited admiration, fear, and hatred, he became -merry, familiar, and almost vulgar, he could resume his dignity in a -moment, for he was able to descend without demeaning himself. And when -at length, in advancing life, he is supposed to be less active or less -daring, because of his increasing <i>embonpoint</i>, or because Fortune had -ceased to smile on him, he bounds more impetuously than ever on his -charger, and shows that for his ardent mind matter is no burden, -misfortune no restraint.</p> - -<p>Such were the successive developments of this extraordinary nature. It -is not easy to estimate Napoleon’s moral qualities, for it is rather -difficult to discover goodness in a soldier who was continually strewing -the earth with dead, or friendship in a man who never knew an equal, or -probity in a potentate in whose power were the riches of the universe. -Still, though an exception to all ordinary rules, we may occasionally -catch some traits of the moral physiognomy of this extraordinary man.</p> - -<p>In all things promptness was his distinctive characteristic. He would -become angry, but would recover his calmness with wonderful facility, -almost ashamed of his excite<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_426" id="page_426">{426}</a></span>ment, laughing at it if he could do so -without compromising his dignity, and would again address with -affectionate words or gestures the officer he had overpowered by his -burst of passion. His anger was sometimes affected for the purpose of -intimidating subalterns who neglected their duty. When real, his -displeasure passed like a flash of lightning; when affected, it lasted -as long as it was needed. When he was no longer obliged to command, -restrain, or impel men, he became gentle, simple, and just, just as -every man of great mind is who understands human nature, and appreciates -and pardons its weaknesses because he knows that they are inevitable. At -St. Helena, deprived of all external prestige, his power departed, -without any other ascendant over his companions than that derived from -his intellect and disposition, Napoleon ruled them with absolute sway, -won them by unchanging amiability; and that to such a degree that having -feared him for the greater part of their lives, they ended by loving him -for the remainder. On the battle-field he had acquired an insensibility -that was almost fearful; he could behold unmoved the ground covered with -a hundred thousand lifeless bodies, for none had ever caused so much -human blood to flow as he.</p> - -<p>This insensibility was, so to speak, a consequence of his profession. -Often in the evening he would ride over the battle-field, which in the -morning he had strewed with all the horrors of war, to see that the -wounded were removed, a proceeding that might be the result of policy, -but was not; and he frequently sprang from his horse to assure himself -whether in an apparently lifeless body the vital spark did not still -linger. At Wagram he saw a fine young man, in the uniform of the -cuirassiers, lying on the ground with his face covered with clotted -blood; he sprang at once from his horse, supported the head of the -wounded youth on his knee, restored him by the aid of some spirituous -remedy, and said, smiling: “He will recover, it is one more saved!” -These are no proofs of want of feeling.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_427" id="page_427">{427}</a></span></p> - -<p>In everything connected with finance he was almost avaricious, disputing -even about a centime, while he would give millions to his friends, -servants, or the poor. Having discovered that a distinguished <i>savant</i> -who had accompanied him to Egypt was in embarrassed circumstances, he -sent him a large sum, blaming him at the same time for not having told -him of his position. In 1813, having expended all his ready money, and -learning that a lady of high birth, who had once been very rich, was in -want of the necessaries of life, he immediately appointed her a pension -of twenty-four thousand francs, as much as fifty thousand at the present -time, and being told that she was eighty-four years of age, “Poor -woman,” he said, “let her be paid four years in advance.” These, we must -repeat, are no indications of want of kindness of disposition.</p> - -<p>Having but little time to devote to private friendships, removed from -them by his superiority to other men, but still, under the influence of -time and habit, he did become attached to some, so strongly attached as -to be indulgent even to weakness to those he loved. This was the case -with regard to his relatives, whose pretensions often provoked his -anger; yet, seeing them annoyed, he relented, and to gratify them, often -did what he knew to be unwise. Although the admiration he had felt for -the Empress Josephine passed away with time, and though she had, by many -thoughtless acts, lowered herself in the esteem he always entertained -for her, he had for her, even after his divorce, the most profound -affection. He wept for Duroc, but in secret, as though it were a -weakness.</p> - -<p>As to his probity, we know not by what standard to estimate such a -quality in a man who from the very commencement of his public career had -immense riches at his command. When he became commander-in-chief of the -army in Italy and was master of all the wealth of the country, he first -supplied his army abundantly, and then sent assistance to the army on -the Rhine, reserving nothing for himself, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_428" id="page_428">{428}</a></span> at most only a sum -sufficient to purchase a small house, Rue de la Victoire, a purchase for -which one year’s pay would have sufficed; and had he died in Egypt, his -widow would have been left destitute. Was this the result of pride, -disdain of vulgar enjoyments, or honesty? Perhaps there was a little of -all in this forbearance, which was not unexampled among our generals, -though certainly as rare then as it has ever been. He punished -dishonesty with extreme severity, which might be attributed to his love -of order; but, what was still better, and seemed to indicate that he -possessed the quality of honesty himself, was the positive affection he -showed for honest people, carried so far as to take keen pleasure in -their society.</p> - -<p>Still this man, whom God had made so great and so good, was not a -virtuous man, for virtue consists in a fixed idea of duty, to which all -our inclinations, all our desires, moral and physical, must be -subjected, and which could not be the case with one who, of all that -ever lived, put least restraint upon his passions. But if wholly -deficient in what is abstractly understood as virtue, he possessed -certain special virtues, particularly those of a warrior and statesman. -He was temperate, not prone to sensual gratifications, and, it not -exactly chaste he was not a libertine, never, except on occasions of -ceremony, remained more than a few minutes at table; he slept on a hard -bed though his constitution was rather weak than strong, bore, without -even perceiving it, an amount of fatigue that would have exhausted the -most vigorous soldiers; and was capable of prodigious exertion when -mentally occupied with some great undertaking.</p> - -<p>He did more than brave danger, he seemed unconscious of its existence, -and was ever to be found wherever he was needed to see, direct, or -command. Such was his character as a soldier; as a general he was not -inferior.</p> - -<p>Never had the cares of a vast military command been borne with more -coolness, vigor, or presence of mind. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_429" id="page_429">{429}</a></span> he were occasionally excited -or angry, the officers who knew him best said that all <i>was going on -well</i>. When the danger became serious, he was calm, mild, encouraging, -not wishing to add the excitement attendant on his displeasure to that -which naturally arose from the circumstances; he remained perfectly -calm, a power acquired by the habit of restraining his emotions in great -emergencies, and, calculating the extent of the danger, turning it -aside, and thus triumphing over fortune. Formed for great emergencies -and familiarized by habit to every species of peril, he stood by, in -1814, a calm spectator of the suicidal destruction of his own power, a -destruction achieved by his ambition; and still he hoped when all around -despaired, because he perceived resources undivined by anybody else, and -under all vicissitudes, soaring on the wings of genius above the shock -of circumstances, and with the resignation of a self-judged mind he -accepted the deserved punishment of his faults.</p> - -<p>Such, in our opinion, was this man, so strange, so self-contradicting, -so many-sided. If among the principal traits of his character there is -one more prominent than the rest, it is a species of moral intemperance. -A prodigy of genius and passion, flung into the chaos of a revolution, -his nature unfolds and develops itself therein. He masters that wild -confusion, replaces it by his own presence, and displays the energy, -audacity, and fickleness of that which he replaced. Succeeding to men -who stopped at nothing, either in virtue or crime, in heroism or -cruelty, surrounded by men who laid no restraints on their passions, he -laid none on his; they wished to convert the world into a universal -republic, he would have it an equally boundless monarchy; they turned -everything into chaos, he formed an almost tyrannical unity; they -disorganized everything, he re-established order; they defied -sovereigns, he dethroned them; they slaughtered men on the scaffold, he -on the battle-field, where blood was shrouded in glory. He immolated -more human beings than did any Asiatic conqueror, and within<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_430" id="page_430">{430}</a></span> the narrow -precincts of Europe, peopled with opposing nations, he conquered a -greater space of territory than Tamerlane or Genghis Khan amid the -deserts of Asia.</p> - -<p>It was reserved for the French revolution, destined to change the aspect -of European society, to produce a man who would fix the attention of the -world as powerfully as Charlemagne, Cæsar, Hannibal, and Alexander. He -possessed every qualification that could strike, attract, and fix the -attention of mankind, whether we consider the greatness of the part he -was destined to perform, the vastness of the political convulsions he -caused, the splendor, extent, and profundity of his genius, or his -majestic gravity of thought. This son of a Corsican gentleman, who -received the gratuitous military education that ancient royalty bestowed -on the sons of the poor nobility, had scarcely left school when in a -sanguinary tumult he obtained the rank of commander-in-chief, then left -the Parisian army for that of Italy, conquered that country in a month, -successively destroyed all the forces of the European coalition, wrested -from them the peace of Campo-Formio, and then becoming too formidable to -stand beside the government of the republic, he went to seek a new -destiny in the East, passed through the English fleet with five hundred -ships, conquered Egypt at a stride, then thought of following -Alexander’s footsteps in the conquest of India. But suddenly recalled to -the West by the renewal of the European war, after having attempted to -imitate Alexander, he imitated and equaled Hannibal in crossing the -Alps, again overpowered the coalition, and compelled it to accept the -peace of Luneville, and at thirty years of age this son of a poor -Corsican nobleman had already run through a most extraordinary career.</p> - -<p>Become pacific for a while, he by his laws laid the basis of modern -society; but again yielding to the impulses of his restless genius, he -once more attacked Europe, vanquished her in three battles—Austerlitz, -Jena, and Friedland—set up and threw down kingdoms, placed the crown -of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_431" id="page_431">{431}</a></span> Charlemagne on his head; and when kings came to offer him their -daughters, chose the descendant of the Cæsars, who presented him with a -son that seemed destined to wear the most brilliant crown in the -universe. He advanced from Cadiz to Moscow, where he was subjected to -the greatest catastrophe on record, rose again, but was again defeated, -and confined in a small island, from which he emerged with a few hundred -faithful soldiers, recovered the crown of France in twenty days, -struggled again against exasperated Europe, sank for the last time at -Waterloo, and having sustained greater wars than those of the Roman -Empire, went—he, the child of a Mediterranean isle—to die on an island -in the ocean, bound like Prometheus by the fear and hatred of kings to a -rock.</p> - -<p>This son of a poor Corsican nobleman has indeed played in the world the -parts of Alexander, Hannibal, Cæsar, and Charlemagne! He possessed as -much genius as the greatest among them; acquired as much fame as the -most celebrated, and unfortunately shed more blood than any of them. In -a moral point of view, he is inferior to the best of these great men but -superior to the worst. His ambition was not as futile as that of -Alexander, nor as depraved as that of Cæsar, but it was not as -respectable as Hannibal’s, who sacrificed himself to save his country -the misfortune of being conquered. His ambition was that usual with -conquerors who seek to rule after having aggrandized their native land. -Still he loved France and cherished her glory as dearly as his own.</p> - -<p>As a ruler he sought what was right, but sought it as a despot, nor did -he pursue it with the consistency or religious perseverance of -Charlemagne. In variety of talents he was inferior to Cæsar, who, being -compelled to win over his fellow-citizens before ruling them, had to -learn how to persuade as well as how to fight, and could speak, write, -and act with a certain simple majesty. Napoleon, on the other hand, -having acquired power by warfare, had no need of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_432" id="page_432">{432}</a></span> oratory, nor possibly, -though endowed with natural eloquence, could he ever have acquired it, -since he never would have taken the trouble of patiently analyzing his -thought in presence of a deliberative assembly. He could write as he -thought, with force and dignity, but he was sometimes a little -declamatory like his mother, the French revolution; he argued with more -force than Cæsar, but could not narrate with his extreme simplicity or -exquisite taste. He was inferior to the Roman dictator in the variety of -his talents, but superior as a general, both by his peculiar military -genius and by the daring profundity and inexhaustible fertility of his -plans, in which he had but one equal or superior (which we can not -decide)—Hannibal; for he was as daring, as prudent, as subtle, as -inventive, as terrible, and as obstinate as the Carthaginian general, -with one advantage of living at a later period. Succeeding to Hannibal, -Cæsar, the Nassaus, Gustavus Adolphus, Condé, Turenne, and Frederick, he -brought military art to its ultimate perfection. God alone can estimate -the respective merits of such men; all we can do is to sketch some -prominent traits of their wonderful characters.</p> - -<h2><a name="DUKE_OF_WELLINGTON" id="DUKE_OF_WELLINGTON"></a>DUKE OF WELLINGTON.<br /><br /> -<small><span class="smcap">By ARCHIBALD ALISON.</span></small></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, third son of the Earl of -Mornington, born 1769, died 1852. Previous to taking command of the -British armies in Spain against the French, Sir Arthur Wellesley -had achieved great distinction and the rank of major-general in -India. Shortly after his appointment to the Spanish command as -lieutenant-general in 1808, he was raised to the peerage as -Viscount Wellington; and his brilliant success against Napoleon’s -most eminent marshals stamped him as one of the first soldiers of -the age. In 1815 Wellington was placed at the head of the English -forces and their allies, to meet Napoleon in that last convulsive -struggle which ended with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_433" id="page_433">{433}</a></span> battle of Waterloo. Made -field-marshal and duke for his eminent services, Wellington -afterward signalized his capacity for civil administration as -little inferior to his military skill, and as premier displayed the -most wise and liberal statesmanship.]</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> name of no commander in the long array of British greatness will -occupy so large a space in the annals of the world as that of -Wellington; and yet there are few whose public characters possess, with -so many excellences, so simple and unblemished a complexion. It is to -the purity and elevation of his principles in every public situation -that this enviable distinction is to be ascribed. Intrusted early in -life with high command, and subjected from the first to serious -responsibility, he possessed that singleness of heart and integrity of -purpose which, even more than talent or audacity, are the foundations of -true and moral courage, and the only pure path to public greatness; a -sense of duty, a feeling of honor, a generous patriotism, a -forgetfulness of self, constituted the spring of all his actions.</p> - -<p>He was ambitious, but it was to serve his king and country only; -fearless, because his whole heart was wound up in these noble objects; -disinterested, because the enriching of himself or his family never for -a moment crossed his mind; insensible to private fame when it interfered -with public duty, indifferent to popular obloquy when it arose from -rectitude of conduct. Like the Roman patriot, he wished rather to be -than appear deserving. “Esse quam bonus malebat, ita quo minus gloriam -petebat eo magis adsequebatur.” Greatness was forced upon him, both in -military and political life, rather because he was felt to be worthiest, -than because he desired to be the first; he was the architect of his own -fortune, but he became so almost unconsciously, while solely engrossed -in constructing that of his country. He has left undone many things, as -a soldier, which might have added to his fame, and done many things, as -a statesman, which were fatal to his power; but he omitted the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_434" id="page_434">{434}</a></span> -because they would have endangered his country, and committed the second -because he felt them to be essential to its salvation.</p> - -<p>It is the honor of England, and of human nature, that such a man should -have risen at such a time to the rule of her armies and her councils; -but he experienced with Themistocles and Scipio Africanus the mutable -tenure of popular applause and the base ingratitude of those whom he had -saved. Having triumphed over the arms of the threatened tyrant, he was -equally immovable in the presence of the insane citizens; and it is hard -to say whether his greatness appeared most when he struck down the -conqueror of Europe on the field of Waterloo, or was himself with -difficulty rescued from death on its anniversary, eighteen years -afterward, in the streets of London.</p> - -<p>A constant recollection of these circumstances, and of the peculiar and -very difficult task which was committed to his charge, is necessary in -forming a correct estimate of the Duke of Wellington’s military -achievements. The brilliancy of his course is well known; an unbroken -series of triumphs from Vimiero to Toulouse; the entire expulsion of the -French from the Peninsula; the planting of the British standard in the -heart of France; the successive defeat of those veteran marshals who had -so long conquered in every country of Europe; the overthrow of Waterloo; -the hurling of Napoleon from his throne; and the termination, in one -day, of the military empire founded on twenty years of conquest. But -these results, great and imperishable as they are, convey no adequate -idea, either of the difficulties with which Wellington had to contend, -or of the merit due to his transcendent exertions. With an army seldom -superior in number to a single corps of the French marshals; with troops -dispirited by recent disasters, and wholly unaided by practical -experience; without any compulsory law to recruit his ranks, or any -strong national passion for war to supply its wants, he was called on to -combat successively vast armies,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_435" id="page_435">{435}</a></span> composed, in great part, of veteran -soldiers, perpetually filled by the terrible powers of the conscription, -headed by the chiefs who, risen from the ranks, and practically -acquainted with the duties of war in all its grades, had fought their -way from the grenadier’s musket to the marshal’s baton, and were -followed by men who, trained in the same school, were animated by the -same ambition.</p> - -<p>Still more, he was the general of a nation in which the chivalrous and -mercantile qualities are strongly blended together; which, justly proud -of its historic glory, is unreasonably jealous of its military -expenditure; which, covetous beyond measure of warlike renown, is -ruinously impatient of pacific preparation; which starves its -establishment when danger is over, and yet frets at defeat when its -terrors are present; which dreams, in war, of Cressy and Agincourt, and -ruminates, in peace, on economic reduction.</p> - -<p>He combated at the head of an alliance formed of heterogeneous states, -composed of discordant materials, in which ancient animosities and -religious divisions were imperfectly suppressed by recent fervor or -present danger; in which corruption often paralyzed the arm of -patriotism, and jealousy withheld the resources of power. He acted under -the direction of a ministry which, albeit zealous and active, was alike -inexperienced in hostility and unskilled in combinations; in presence of -an opposition which, powerful in eloquence, supported by faction, was -prejudiced against the war, and indefatigable to arrest it; for the -interests of a people, who, although ardent in the cause and -enthusiastic in its support, were impatient of disaster and prone to -depression, and whose military resources, how great soever, were -dissipated in the protection of a colonial empire which encircled the -earth.</p> - -<p>Nothing but the most consummate prudence, as well as ability in conduct, -could with such means have achieved victory over such an enemy, and the -character of Wellington was singularly fitted for the task. Capable, -when the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_436" id="page_436">{436}</a></span> occasion required or opportunity was afforded, of the most -daring enterprises, he was yet cautious and wary in his general conduct; -prodigal of his own labor, regardless of his own person, he was -avaricious only of the blood of his soldiers. Endowed by Nature with an -indomitable soul, a constitution of iron, he possessed that tenacity of -purpose and indefatigable activity which is ever necessary to great -achievements; prudent in council, sagacious in design, he was yet prompt -and decided in action. No general ever revolved the probable dangers of -an enterprise more anxiously before undertaking it, none possessed in a -higher degree the eagle eye, the arm of steel, necessary to carry it -into execution.</p> - -<p>By the steady application of these rare qualities he was enabled to -raise the British military force from an unworthy state of depression to -an unparalleled pitch of glory; to educate, in presence of the enemy, -not only his soldiers in the field, but his rulers in the cabinet; to -silence, by avoiding disaster, the clamor of his enemies; to strengthen, -by progressive success, the ascendency of his friends; to augment, by -the exhibition of its results, the energy of the government; to rouse, -by deeds of glory, the enthusiasm of the people.</p> - -<p>Skillfully seizing the opportunity of victory, he studiously avoided the -chances of defeat; aware that a single disaster would at once endanger -his prospects, discourage his countrymen, and strengthen his opponents, -he was content to forego many opportunities of earning fame, and stifle -many desires to grasp at glory; magnanimously checking the aspirations -of genius, he trusted for ultimate success rather to perseverance in a -wise, than audacity in a daring course. He thus succeeded during six -successive campaigns, with a comparatively inconsiderable army, in -maintaining his ground against the vast and veteran forces of Napoleon, -in defeating successively all his marshals, baffling successively all -his enterprises, and finally rousing such an enthu<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_437" id="page_437">{437}</a></span>siastic spirit in the -British Empire as enabled its Government to put forth its immense -resources on a scale worthy of its present greatness and ancient renown, -and terminate a contest of twenty years by planting the English standard -on the walls of Paris.</p> - -<p class="fint">THE END.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="cappl"><i>D. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>HISTORY OF ROME.</b> By Dr. <span class="smcap">Thomas Arnold</span>. Large 8vo. Cloth, $3.00.</p></div> - -<p>Dr. Arnold’s colossal reputation is founded on this great work.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>HISTORY OF THE ROMANS.</b> Complete in 8 vols., small 8vo (the eighth -volume containing the “Conversion of the Northern Nations” and the -“Conversion of the Roman Empire”). By <span class="smcap">Charles Merivale</span>, B. D. Half -morocco, $35.00.</p></div> - -<p>Mr. Merivale’s undertaking is nothing less than to bridge over no small -portion of the interval between the interrupted work of Arnold and the -commencement of Gibbon; and he has proved himself no unworthy successor -to the two most gifted historians of Rome known to English literature.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>HISTORY OF THE ROMANS UNDER THE EMPIRE.</b> By <span class="smcap">Charles Merivale</span>, B. D., -Rector of Lawford; Chaplain to the House of Commons. 7 vols. Small -8vo. Cloth, $14.00.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Same.</span> New edition. 7 vols. in four. 12mo. Cloth, $7.00.</p></div> - -<p>“A work that has justly taken high rank in the historical literature of -modern England. Some of his chapters must long be regarded as admirable -specimens of elegant literary workmanship. The author begins his history -with the gradual transfer of the old Republic to the imperialism of the -Cæsars, and ends it with the age of the Antonines. It therefore exactly -fills the gap between Mommsen and Gibbon.”—<i>Dr. C. K. Adams’s Manual of -Historical Literature.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>THE CONVERSION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE.</b> The Boyle Lectures for the Year -1864, delivered at the Chapel Royal, Whitehall. By <span class="smcap">Charles -Merivale</span>, B. D. Large 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>CONVERSION OF THE NORTHERN NATIONS.</b> The Boyle Lectures for the Year -1865, delivered at the Chapel Royal, Whitehall. By <span class="smcap">Charles -Merivale</span>, B. D. Large 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>MONTESQUIEU’S CONSIDERATIONS ON THE CAUSES OF THE GRANDEUR AND -DECADENCE OF THE ROMANS.</b> A New Translation, together with an -Introduction, Critical and Illustrative Notes, and an Analytical -Index. By <span class="smcap">Jehu Baker</span>. Being incidentally a Rational Discussion of -the Phenomena and the Tendencies of History in general. 12mo. -Cloth, $2.00.</p></div> - -<p>“Mr. Jehu Baker has rendered a great service to English-speaking people -by producing a new and admirable translation of Montesquieu’s -‘Considerations on the Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans.’ But Mr. -Baker has by no means confined himself to the simple work of -translation. Many foot-notes have been added throughout the volume, and -each chapter is followed by an extended and elaborate note.”—<i>Boston -Courier.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>HISTORY OF THE WORLD</b>, from the Earliest Records to the Fall of the -Western Empire. By <span class="smcap">Philip Smith</span>, B. A. New edition. 3 vols. 8vo. -Vellum cloth, gilt top, $6.00; half calf, $13.50.</p></div> - -<p>“These volumes embody the results of many years of arduous and -conscientious study. The work is fully entitled to be called the ablest -and most satisfactory book on the subject written in our language. The -author’s methods are dignified and judicious, and he has availed himself -of all the recent light thrown by philological research on the annals of -the East.”—<i>Dr. C. K. Adams’s Manual of Historical Literature.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>HISTORY OF HERODOTUS.</b> An English Version, edited, with Copious -Notes and Appendices, by <span class="smcap">George Rawlinson</span>, M. A. With Maps and -Illustrations. In four volumes, 8vo. Vellum cloth, $8.00; half -calf, $18.00.</p></div> - -<p>“This must be considered as by far the most valuable version of the -works of ‘The Father of History.’ The history of Herodotus was probably -not written until near the end of his life; it is certain that he had -been collecting materials for it during many years. There was scarcely a -city of importance in Greece, Asia Minor, Syria, Persia, Arabia, or -Egypt, that he had not visited and studied; and almost every page of his -work contains results of his personal inquiries and observations. Many -things laughed at for centuries as impossible are now found to have been -described in strict accordance with truth.”—<i>Dr. C. K. Adams’s Manual -of Historical Literature.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>A GENERAL HISTORY OF GREECE</b>, from the Earliest Period to the Death -of Alexander the Great. With a Sketch of the Subsequent History to -the Present Time. By <span class="smcap">G. W. Cox</span>. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></div> - -<p>“One of the best of the smaller histories of Greece.”—<i>Dr. C. K. -Adams’s Manual of Historical Literature.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>A HISTORY OF GREECE.</b> From the Earliest Times to the Present. By <span class="smcap">T. -T. Timayenis</span>. With Maps and Illustrations. 2 vols. 12mo. Cloth, -$2.50.</p></div> - -<p>“The peculiar feature of the present work is that it is founded on -Hellenic sources. I have not hesitated to follow the Father of History -in portraying the heroism and the sacrifices of the Hellenes in their -first war for independence, nor, in delineating the character of that -epoch, to form my judgment largely from the records he has left -us.”—<i>Extract from Preface.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>GREECE IN THE TIMES OF HOMER.</b> An Account of the Life, Customs, and -Habits of the Greeks during the Homeric Period. By <span class="smcap">T. T. Timayenis</span>. -16mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></div> - -<p>“In the preparation of the present volume I have conscientiously -examined nearly every book—Greek, German, French, or English—written -on Homer. But my great teacher and guide has been Homer himself.”—<i>From -the Preface.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>A HISTORY OF ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.</b> By <span class="smcap">William E. H. -Lecky</span>, author of “History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit -of Rationalism in Europe,” etc. Vols. I to VI. Large 12mo. Cloth, -$2.25 each; half calf, $4.50 each.</p></div> - -<p>“On every ground which should render a history of eighteenth-century -England precious to thinking men, Mr. Lecky’s work may be commended. The -materials accumulated in these volumes attest an industry more strenuous -and comprehensive than that exhibited by Froude or by Macaulay. But it -is his supreme merit that he leaves on the reader’s mind a conviction -that he not only possesses the acuteness which can discern the truth, -but the unflinching purpose of truth-telling.”—<i>New York Sun.</i></p> - -<p>“Lecky has not chosen to deal with events in chronological order, nor -does he present the details of personal, party, or military affairs. The -work is rather an attempt ‘to disengage from the great mass of facts -those which relate to the permanent forces of the nation, or which -indicate some of the more enduring features of national life.’ The -author’s manner has led him to treat of the power of monarchy, -aristocracy, and democracy; of the history of political ideas; of -manners and of beliefs, as well as of the increasing power of Parliament -and of the press.”—<i>Dr. C. K. Adams’s Manual of Historical Literature.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>HISTORY OF THE RISE AND INFLUENCE OF THE SPIRIT OF RATIONALISM IN -EUROPE.</b> By <span class="smcap">William E. H. Lecky</span>. 2 vols. Small 8vo. Cloth, $4.00; -half calf, extra, $8.00.</p></div> - -<p>“The author defines his purpose as an attempt to trace that spirit which -‘leads men on all occasions to subordinate dogmatic theology to the -dictates of reason and of conscience, and, as a necessary consequence, -to restrict its influence upon life’—which predisposes men, in history, -to attribute all kinds of phenomena to natural rather than miraculous -causes; in theology, to esteem succeeding systems the expressions of the -wants and aspirations of that religious sentiment which is planted in -all men; and, in ethics, to regard as duties only those which conscience -reveals to be such.”—<i>Dr. C. K. Adams’s Manual of Historical -Literature.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>THE LEADERS OF PUBLIC OPINION IN IRELAND: SWIFT, FLOOD, GRATTAN, -O’CONNELL.</b> By <span class="smcap">William E. H. Lecky</span>. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75.</p></div> - -<p>“A writer of Lecky’s mind, with his rich imagination, his fine ability -to appreciate imagination in others, and his disposition to be himself -an orator upon the written page, could hardly have found a period in -British history more harmonious with his literary style than that which -witnessed the rise, the ripening, and the fall of the four men whose -impress upon the development of the national spirit of Ireland was not -limited by the local questions whose discussion constituted their -fame.”—<i>New York Evening Post.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>HISTORY OF HENRY THE FIFTH</b>: KING OF ENGLAND, LORD OF IRELAND, AND -HEIR OF FRANCE. By <span class="smcap">George M. Towle</span>. 8vo. Cloth, $2.50.</p></div> - -<p><i>New revised edition of Bancroft’s History of the United States.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES</b>, from the Discovery of the Continent -to the Establishment of the Constitution in 1789. By <span class="smcap">George -Bancroft</span>. Complete in 6 vols., 8vo, printed from new type, and -bound in cloth, uncut, with gilt top, $2.50; sheep, $3.50; half -calf, $4.50 per volume. Vol. VI contains the History of the -Formation of the Constitution of the United States, and a Portrait -of Mr. Bancroft.</p></div> - -<p>In this edition of his great work the author has made extensive changes -in the text, condensing in places, enlarging in others, and carefully -revising. It is practically a new work embodying the results of the -latest researches, and enjoying the advantage of the author’s long and -mature experience.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“On comparing this work with the corresponding volume of the -‘Centenary’ edition of 1876, one is surprised to see how extensive -changes the author has found desirable, even after so short an -interval. The first thing that strikes one is the increased number -of chapters, resulting from subdivision. The first volume contains -two volumes of the original, and is divided into thirty-eight -chapters instead of eighteen. This is in itself an improvement. But -the new arrangement is not the result merely of subdivision; the -matter is rearranged in such a manner as vastly to increase the -lucidity and continuousness of treatment. In the present edition -Mr. Bancroft returns to the principle of division into periods, -abandoned in the ‘Centenary’ edition. His division is, however, a -new one. As the permanent shape taken by a great historical work, -this new arrangement is certainly an improvement.”—<i>The Nation -(New York).</i></p> - -<p>“The work as a whole is in better shape, and is of course more -authoritative than ever before. This last revision will be without -doubt, both from its desirable form and accurate text, the standard -one.”—<i>Boston Traveller.</i></p> - -<p>“It has not been granted to many historians to devote half a -century to the history of a single people, and to live long enough, -and, let us add, to be willing and wise enough, to revise and -rewrite in an honored old age the work of a whole lifetime.”—<i>New -York Mail and Express.</i></p> - -<p>“The extent and thoroughness of this revision would hardly be -guessed without comparing the editions side by side. The -condensation of the text amounts to something over one third of the -previous edition. There has also been very considerable recasting -of the text. On the whole, our examination of the first volume -leads us to believe that the thought of the historian loses nothing -by the abbreviation of the text. A closer and later approximation -to the best results of scholarship and criticism is reached. The -public gains by its more compact brevity and in amount of matter, -and in economy of time and money.”—<i>The Independent (New York).</i></p> - -<p>“There is nothing to be said at this day of the value of -‘Bancroft.’ Its authority is no longer in dispute, and as a piece -of vivid and realistic historical writing it stands among the best -works of its class. It may be taken for granted that this new -edition will greatly extend its usefulness.”—<i>Philadelphia North -American.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>HISTORY OF THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES</b>, from the Revolution to -the Civil War. By <span class="smcap">John Bach McMaster</span>. To be completed in five -volumes. Vols. I and II, 8vo, cloth, gilt top, $2.50 each.</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scope of the Work.</span>—<i>In the course of this narrative much is written of -wars, conspiracies, and rebellions; of Presidents, of Congresses, of -embassies, of treaties, of the ambition of political leaders, and of the -rise of great parties in the nation. Yet the history of the people is -the chief theme. At every stage of the splendid progress which separates -the America of Washington and Adams from the America in which we live, -it has been the author’s purpose to describe the dress, the occupations, -the amusements, the literary canons of the times; to note the changes of -manners and morals; to trace the growth of that humane spirit which -abolished punishment for debt, and reformed the discipline of prisons -and of jails; to recount the manifold improvements which, in a thousand -ways, have multiplied the conveniences of life and ministered to the -happiness of our race; to describe the rise and progress of that long -series of mechanical inventions and discoveries which is now the -admiration of the world, and our just pride and boast; to tell how, -under the benign influence of liberty and peace, there sprang up, in the -course of a single century, a prosperity unparalleled in the annals of -human affairs.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“The pledge given by Mr. McMaster, that ‘the history of the people -shall be the chief theme,’ is punctiliously and satisfactorily -fulfilled. He carries out his promise in a complete, vivid, and -delightful way. We should add that the literary execution of the -work is worthy of the indefatigable industry and unceasing -vigilance with which the stores of historical material have been -accumulated, weighed, and sifted. The cardinal qualities of style, -lucidity, animation, and energy, are everywhere present. Seldom, -indeed, has a book, in which matter of substantial value has been -so happily united to attractiveness of form, been offered by an -American author to his fellow-citizens.”—<i>New York Sun.</i></p> - -<p>“To recount the marvelous progress of the American people, to -describe their life, their literature, their occupations, their -amusements, is Mr. McMaster’s object. His theme is an important -one, and we congratulate him on his success. It has rarely been our -province to notice a book with so many excellences and so few -defects.”—<i>New York Herald.</i></p> - -<p>“Mr. McMaster at once shows his grasp of the various themes and his -special capacity as a historian of the people. His aim is high, but -he hits the mark.”—<i>New York Journal of Commerce.</i></p> - -<p>“I have had to read a good deal of history in my day, but I find so -much freshness in the way Professor McMaster has treated his -subject that it is quite like a new story.”—<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></p> - -<p>“Mr. McMaster’s success as a writer seems to us distinct and -decisive. In the first place he has written a remarkably readable -history. His style is clear and vigorous, if not always condensed. -He has the faculty of felicitous comparison and contrast in a -marked degree. Mr. McMaster has produced one of the most spirited -of histories, a book which will be widely read, and the -entertaining quality of which is conspicuous beyond that of any -work of its kind.”—<i>Boston Gazette.</i></p></div> - -<p class="c">New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_438" id="page_438">{438}</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c">THE</p> - -<p class="c"><span class="smcap"><span class="big">Historical Reference-Book</span></span>,</p> - -<p class="c">COMPRISING:</p> - -<p class="c"><i>A Chronological Table of Universal History, a Chronological Dictionary -of Universal History, a Biographical Dictionary</i>.</p> - -<p class="c">WITH GEOGRAPHICAL NOTES.</p> - -<p class="c">FOR THE USE OF STUDENTS, TEACHERS, AND READERS.</p> - -<p class="c"><i>By LOUIS HEILPRIN.</i></p> - -<p class="c">New edition. Crown 8vo. Half leather, $3.00.</p> - -<p>“A second revised edition of Mr. Louis Heilprin’s ‘Historical -Reference-Book’ has just appeared, marking the well-earned success of -this admirable work—a dictionary of dates, a dictionary of events (with -a special gazetteer for the places mentioned), and a concise -biographical dictionary, all in one, and all in the highest degree -trustworthy. Mr. Heilprin’s revision is as thorough as his original -work. Any one can test it by running over the list of persons deceased -since this manual first appeared. Corrections, too, have been made, as -we can testify in one instance at least.”—<i>New York Evening Post.</i></p> - -<p>“One of the most complete, compact, and valuable works of reference yet -produced.”—<i>Troy Daily Times.</i></p> - -<p>“Unequaled in its field.”—<i>Boston Courier.</i></p> - -<p>“A small library in itself.”—<i>Chicago Dial.</i></p> - -<p>“An invaluable book of reference, useful alike to the student and the -general reader. The arrangement could scarcely be better or more -convenient.”—<i>New York Herald.</i></p> - -<p>“The conspectus of the world’s history presented in the first part of -the book is as full as the wisest terseness could put within the -space.”—<i>Philadelphia American.</i></p> - -<p>“We miss hardly anything that we should consider desirable, and we have -not been able to detect a single mistake or misprint.”—<i>New York -Nation.</i></p> - -<p>“So far as we have tested the accuracy of the present work we have found -it without flaw.”—<i>Christian Union.</i></p> - -<p>“The conspicuous merits of the work are condensation and accuracy. These -points alone should suffice to give the ‘Historical Reference-Book’ a -place in every public and private library.”—<i>Boston Beacon.</i></p> - -<p>“The method of the tabulation is admirable for ready reference.”—<i>New -York Home Journal.</i></p> - -<p>“This cyclopædia of condensed knowledge is a work that will speedily -become a necessity to the general reader, as well as to the -student.”—<i>Detroit Free Press.</i></p> - -<p>“For clearness, correctness, and the readiness with which the reader can -find the information of which he is in search, the volume is far in -advance of any work of its kind with which we are acquainted.”—<i>Boston -Saturday Evening Gazette.</i></p> - -<p>“The latest dates have been given. <i>The geographical notes which -accompany the historical incidents are a novel addition, and exceedingly -helpful.</i> The size also commends it, making it convenient for constant -reference, while the three divisions and careful elimination of minor -and uninteresting incidents make it much easier to find dates and events -about which accuracy is necessary. Sir William Hamilton avers that too -retentive a memory tends to hinder the development of the judgment by -presenting too much for decision. A work like this is thus better than -memory. It is a ‘mental larder’ which needs no care, and whose contents -are ever available.”—<i>New York University Quarterly.</i></p> - -<p class="fint">New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.</p> - -<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb">FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> This and the succeeding selection from the works of -Prescott are included by kind permission of Messrs. Lippincott & Co.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> This and other selections from the works of Motley are -included by kind permission of Messrs. Harper & Brothers.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Miltiades claimed descent from Æacus, the fabled son of -Jupiter, father of Peleus and Telamon, and grandfather of Achilles and -Ajax the Greater, the chiefs of the Greek heroes before Troy.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Peisistratos was the tyrant of Athens, the overthrow of -whose family, about 510 <small>B.C.</small>, laid the foundation of the Athenian -democracy.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> The leadership in a league or confederation, as to-day it -may be said Prussia possesses the “hegemony” of Germany.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Jugurtha was a Numidian prince, who at one time served in -the Roman armies. He afterward usurped the Numidian kingdom in Africa, -and, after a tedious war, was subjugated by the Romans, brought to Rome, -and starved in his dungeon.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus (Minor), the final -destroyer of Carthage.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> A Roman magistrate, inferior to consul, appointed to rule a -province.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> The war against Jugurtha.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> This kingdom was situated in Asia Minor, on the southern -and eastern shores of the Euxine (Black) Sea, between Bithynia and -Armenia. With the first-named region it constituted the extreme -north-western portion of what is now Asiatic Turkey.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> The office charged with financial administration. A -military prætor was at the head of the pay and commissary -department.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Publius Cornelius Cinna, consul from 86 <small>B.C.</small> to 83.—G. T. -F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Gallio was the proconsul of Achaia, and the elder brother -of the philosopher Seneca. The Apostle Paul was brought before his -judgment-seat by the Jews, and he thus answered: “If it were a matter of -wrong or wicked lewdness, O ye Jews, reason would that I should bear -with you. But if it be a question of words and names, and of your law, -look ye to it; for I will be no judge of such matters.” Acts 18: 14, 15. -The name has become a synonym for the attitude of philosophical -indifference. (G.F.F.)</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> The legal fiction of the republic and of its governmental -machinery was carefully perpetuated by Augustus and his successors in -the empire until the destruction of the Western Empire. Public acts were -in the name of the “senate and people of Rome.” The same pious fraud -continued in the Empire of the East till the reign of Justinian.—G. T. -F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> This historian was one of the most bitter and bigoted of -the writers under the new Christian epoch; and his partisanship was -pursued with an acrimony unworthy of the great cause in which he was -retained.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> The Emperor Julian was succeeded by Jovian, one of his -generals, who was at once proclaimed by the troops. Before, however, he -could march to Constantinople he died from a fit of indigestion, or of -poison. Valentinian, a general of Pannonian ancestry distinguished for -his military skill and courage, was then proclaimed.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Theodosius, though justly provoked by the contumacy of the -people of Antioch in casting down and destroying his statues, consulted -pride rather than justice in the severe measures which he at first -proposed, which would have depopulated Antioch, confiscated its wealth, -and destroyed its rank as a capital. The punishment of Thessalonica, on -the other hand, though cruel and excessive, was prompted by a cause more -adequate. A favorite general, Botheric, was brutally assassinated by the -turbulent populace in a circus riot. The wrath of the outraged emperor -was only satiated by a promiscuous massacre of from seven to fifteen -thousand people.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> The characters mentioned by Sir William Temple, the author -alluded to, are Belisarius, Ætius, John Hunniades, Gonsalvo of Cordova, -Scanderbeg, Alexander Duke of Parma, and the Prince of Orange.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Gibbon, while recognizing the correct orthography of the -name Mohammed, prefers to use the then popular substitute of “Mahomet,” -as that by which the Arabian prophet was almost universally known.—G. -T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> The sister of Svein had fled to Olaf’s court for -protection against a detested marriage, whereon Olaf had become enamored -of and married the fair fugitive. As Queen Sigrid had formerly been -jilted by Olaf his marriage had been a sore blow to her.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Derived from an old Italian word meaning astuteness or -shrewdness.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Froissart’s “Chronicles.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> The reader scarcely needs to be informed that, in the time -of Gibbon, the British East India Company was the practical maister of -Hindostan.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Philip II, king of Spain.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> A noted Protestant general, to whom Wallenstein had been -opposed in more than one campaign.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Ferdinand of Austria, the head of the Catholic League of -Germany and Spain, by whom the Thirty Years’ War was inaugurated.—G. T. -F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> The time of life selected by Macaulay for this picture was -just prior to William’s accession to the English throne.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Father of Charles James Fox, whose picture is given by -Lecky in another sketch.—G. T. F.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> King of Spain.</p></div> - -</div> -<hr class="full" /> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREAT LEADERS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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