CHAP. I. OF THE EARLIEST STATE OF GREECE.

THE Hiſtory of ancient Greece, like that of modern Germany, is not ſo much the hiſtory of any particular kingdom, as of a number of petty independent ſtates, ſometimes at war, and ſometimes in alliance with one another. Of theſe different ſtates, therefore, we ſhall now give an account, with as much brevity as is conſiſtent with perſpicuity; and we ſhall begin our narrative at that period, where real and authentic hiſtory com⯑mences: for as to the more early, that is the fabu⯑lous times of the Grecian republics, theſe belong to mythology rather than to hiſtory.

Sicyon, then, is ſaid to have been the firſt king⯑dom that was eſtabliſhed in Greece. The begin⯑ning of it is placed by hiſtorians in the year of the world one thouſand nine hundred and fifteen, before Chriſt two thouſand eighty-nine, and before the firſt Olympiad one thouſand three hundred and thirteen. Its firſt king was Aegialeus. It is ſaid to have laſt⯑ed a thouſand years.

[2] A. M. 2148. The kingdom of Argos, in Pelo⯑ponneſus, began a thouſand and eighty years before the firſt Olympiad, in the time of Abra⯑ham. The firſt king was Inachus.

This was ſucceeded by the kingdom of Mycenae, to which place the ſeat of government was trans⯑ferred from Argos by Perſeus, the grandſon of Acri⯑ſius, the king of Argos, whom Perſeus unfortunate⯑ly flew. Euryſtheus, the third in ſucceſſion from him, was expelled by the Heraclidae, or deſcendants of Hercules, who made themſelves maſters of Pe⯑loponneſus.

A. M. 2448. The kingdom of Athens was firſt formed into a regular government by Cecrops, an Egyptian. This prince having quitted Egypt, and ſpent ſome time in travelling through Phoenicia and other parts, came at laſt into Attica, where he married the daughter of Actaeus, the king of that country, and, upon his death, ſucceeded to the throne. He taught the people, who had hither⯑to led a wandering life, the uſe of fixed habita⯑tions; reſtrained all licentious amours, by obliging every man to be content with one wife; and, for the better adminiſtration of juſtice, he inſtituted the celebrated court of Areopagus. Amphictyon, the third king of Athens, eſtabliſhed the famous Amphictyonic Council, which makes ſo capital a figure in the hiſtory of Greece. And Codrus, the laſt prince of this line, devoted himſelf for the good of his country. For in a war between the Athe⯑nians and the Heraclidae, in which the latter had penetrated to the very gates of Athens, Codrus hearing that the Oracle had declared, that that peo⯑ple ſhould prove conquerors, whoſe king firſt fell in the conteſt, diſguiſed himſelf in the habit of a pea⯑ſant, and going over to the enemy's camp, pro⯑voked one of their common ſoldiers, who inſtantly flew him. The Heraclidae, being informed of this [3] circumſtance, concluded that heaven had declared againſt them; and they therefore retreated to their own country without ſtriking another blow. Af⯑ter the death of Codrus, the title of king was abo⯑liſhed at Athens, and that of Archon, or chief-go⯑vernor, ſubſtituted in its ſtead. The duration of this laſt office was at firſt for the poſſeſſor's life. It was afterwards limited to ten years, and finally to one.

A. M. 2549. Cadmus was the founder of the kingdom of Thebes. To him are attributed ſixteen letters of the Greek alphabet; though it is probable he borrowed them from the Phoenician characters, rather than invented them. The adventures of his unhappy poſterity, Laius, Jocaſta, Oedipus, Eteocles, and Polynices, are well known.

The kingdom of Sparta, or Lacedaemon, is ſup⯑poſed to have been firſt inſtituted by Lelexa. He⯑ [...]ena, the tenth in ſucceſſion from this monarch, is equally famous for her beauty and her infidelity to the marriage-bed. She had not lived above three years with her huſband Menelaus, when ſhe was carried off by Paris, the ſon of Priam king of Troy. In revenge the Greeks inveſted that city, and took [...]t after a ſiege of ten years, about the time that Jephtha was judge in Iſrael.

A. M. 2820. Corinth began to be formed into [...]tate at a later period than any of the kingdoms above-mentioned. Its firſt ſovereign was [...]iſyphus, the ſon of Aeolus, and, upon the expulſion [...]f his deſcendants, Bacchis aſſumed the reins of [...]ower. The government after this became ariſto⯑ [...]ratical, a chief magiſtrate being annually choſen [...]y the name of Prytanis. At laſt Cypſelus uſurped [...]e ſupreme authority, which he tranſmitted to his [...]n Periander, who was reckoned one of the ſeven [...]iſe men of Greece.

[4]The kingdom of Macedon was firſt governed by Caranus, deſcended from Hercules, and ſubſiſted from his time till the defeat of Perſeus by the Ro⯑mans, a ſpace of ſix hundred and twenty-ſix years.

Such was the political ſituation of Greece in the early period of its hiſtory, during which we ſee that kingly government prevailed in all the ſtates; but this was ſoon changed every where, except in Ma⯑cedonia, for a republican mode of government, which however was diverſified into as many various forms as there were different cities, according to the peculiar character of each reſpective people.

Theſe different ſtates, though totally indepen⯑dent, and ſometimes at war with one another, were yet united by one common language and one reli⯑gion; by the celebration of public games, at which they all aſſiſted; and particularly by the famous Am⯑phictyonic Council, which met twice a year at Ther⯑mopylae, in order to deliberate about the general intereſt of thoſe ſtates of whoſe deputies it was com⯑poſed. The ſtates that ſent deputies to this council were twelve, viz. the Theſſalians, the Thebans, the Dorians, the Ionians, the Perhaebeans, the Mag⯑netes, the Locrians, the Oetans, the Phthiotes, the Maleans, the Phocians, and the Dolopians. Each of theſe ſtates ſent two deputies to the council, one of whom was named Hieromnemon, and took care of religion; the other was called Pylagoras, and at⯑tended to the civil intereſts of his community. Af⯑ter offering up ſacrifices to Apollo, Diana, Latona, and Minerva, the deputies took an oath, importing, that they would never ſubvert any city of the Am⯑phictyons, never ſtop the courſe of waters either in war or peace, and that they would oppoſe any at⯑tempts to leſſen the reverence and authority of the gods, to whom they had paid their adoration.

Theſe different motives to confederacy united the Greeks for a time into a body of great power, and [5] greater renown. By this aſſociation a country; not half ſo large as England, was able to diſpute the empire of the world with the greateſt monarchs of the earth. By this aſſociation they were able not only to oppoſe, but even to rout and diſperſe the moſt numerous armies of Perſia, reducing their power to ſo low an ebb, as to make them ſubmit to the moſt mortifying conditions of peace. But of all the ſtates of Greece, the two that made the moſt capital figure, were Athens and Lacedaemon; and of theſe, therefore, it will be neceſſary to give a more particular account, than our limits will al⯑low us to give of the reſt.

CHAP. II. OF THE GOVERNMENT OF SPARTA, AND THE LAWS OF LYCURGUS.

LACEDAEMON, as we have already obſerved, was in the beginning governed by kings, of which thirteen in ſucceſſion held the reins of power, of the race of the Pelopidae. Under the Hera⯑clidae, who ſucceeded them, inſtead of one king, the people admitted two, who governed with equal authority. This change is ſaid to have been owing to the following circumſtance: Ariſtodemus dying, left two ſons, Euriſthenes and Procles, who were twins, and ſo very much alike, that it was hardly poſſible to diſtinguiſh the one from the other; and the mother, equally attached to both, and deſirous of advancing both to the throne, pretended that ſhe really could not tell which of them was firſt born, or which had the beſt claim. The people, therefore, inveſted both with the ſovereign power; and this form of government, however ſtrange, con⯑tinued to ſubſiſt for ſeveral centuries.

[6]It was during this latter period, that the Helots, or peaſants of Sparta, were inſlaved; for theſe peo⯑ple having taken up arms, in order to vindicate their right to the ſame privileges as the citizens en⯑joyed, which the two firſt kings had beſtowed upon them, and of which Agis had deprived them, they were, after a violent ſtruggle, ſubdued; and, to puniſh them for their rebellion, they and their po⯑ſterity were condemned to perpetual ſlavery; and, to render their condition as diſgraceful as it was miſerable, all other ſlaves were called by the general name of Helots.

To prevent the repetition of theſe and the like diſorders, to which this little ſtate was ſubject, Ly⯑curgus inſtituted his celebrated body of laws, which makes ſo conſpicuous a figure in the hiſtory of Greece; and which continued, for a long time, to render Lacedaemon at once the terror and the umpire of the neighbouring kingdoms. But before he gave this proof of his patriotiſm and his abilities as a legiſ⯑lator, he gave, if poſſible, a ſtill more ſtriking proof of his diſintereſtedneſs and love of juſtice. For hav⯑ing ſucceeded to the throne by the death of his elder brother, Polydectes, without iſſue, and the queen-dowager, his ſiſter-in-law, afterwards proving with child, ſhe offered to deſtroy the birth, provided he would marry her, and admit her into a ſhare of power. Lycurgus diſſembled his reſentment at ſo unnatural a propoſal, and fearing that ſhe might uſe means to put her deſign in execution, aſſured her that, as ſoon as the child was born, he would take care to remove it out of the way. Accordingly, ſhe was delivered of a boy, which Lycurgus com⯑manded to be brought to him, and preſenting him to the people, as their lawful ſovereign, by the name of Charilaus, he continued thenceforward to act, not as king, but as regent.

[7]The better to qualify himſelf for the office of a legiſlator, which he was now about to aſſume, he travelled into Crete, and afterwards into Aſia, where he is ſaid to have made the firſt diſcovery of the works of Homer. From thence he went into Egypt; and having thus made himſelf acquainted with the cuſtoms and inſtitutions of the various coun⯑tries through which he paſſed, he at length returned home; and being aſſiſted in his deſigns by ſome of the leading men of the ſtate, he publiſhed his ce⯑lebrated code of laws, by which it was enacted, that the kings ſhould retain their right of ſucceſ⯑ſion as before: but their authority was conſiderably diminiſhed by the inſtitution of a Senate, conſiſting of twenty-eight members, choſen from among the principal citizens, into which none were eligible till they were ſixty years of age. The kings, how⯑ever, ſtill enjoyed all their outward marks of dignity and reſpect. They had the chief ſeats in every pub⯑lic aſſembly; they gave their votes firſt; they re⯑ceived ambaſſadors, and other ſtrangers of diſtinc⯑tion; and in time of war they had the command of the army; though upon theſe occaſions they were ſubject to the controul of the Senate, who ſome⯑times obliged them to march againſt the enemy, or return home, when they had leaſt inclination to do either.

The Senators, too, were the more reſpectable, as they held their places for life; and beſides, being poſſeſſed of ſo conſiderable a ſhare of the executive, were inveſted with the whole of the judicial power; and this laſt part of their duty they executed with ſuch integrity and diſcretion, that though there lay an appeal from them to the people, yet their de⯑crees were hardly ever reverſed. Their authority, however, was about a century after tempered by the erection of a ſuperior court, called the Court of the Ephori, conſiſting of but five members, choſen [8] annually into office, and elected from among the people; and theſe had a power to arreſt and im⯑priſon even the perſons of their kings, if they acted in a mannner unbecoming their ſtation.

In order to reconcile the people to this mode of go⯑vernment, in which though they had a nominal, they had no real ſhare, Lycurgus fell upon two expedients, equally bold and deciſive. Theſe were to divide all the lands of the ſtate equally among the citizens, and to aboliſh the uſe of money. The lands of Laconia he divided into thirty thouſand parts, and thoſe of Sparta into nine thouſand; and theſe he portioned out to the reſpective inhabitants of each diſtrict. To aboliſh the uſe of money, he did not think it neceſſary to deprive thoſe, who were poſ⯑ſeſſed of gold and ſilver, of their property. He thought it ſufficient to cry down the value of thoſe metals, and to order that nothing but iron money ſhould paſs in exchange for any commodity. This coin alſo he made ſo heavy, and fixed at ſo low a rate, that a cart and two oxen were required to carry home a ſum of ten minae, or about twenty pounds ſterling. As this coin had no currency among the other ſtates of Greece, it ſoon fell into contempt even among the Spartans themſelves; who deſpiſed it ſo much, that money was at laſt brought into difuſe, and few troubled themſelves with more than was neceſſary to anſwer their daily expences.

To enforce the practice of temperance and ſo⯑briety, Lycurgus further ordained, that all the men ſhould eat in one common hall in public. Every one was obliged to ſend thither his proviſions monthly, conſiſting of one buſhel of flour, eight meaſures of wine, five pounds of cheeſe, and two pounds and a half of figs; and this regulation was ſo rigidly obſerved, that a long time after, when Agis returned from a ſucceſsful expedition, he was ſeverely reprimanded for having eaten with his [9] queen in private. Black broth was their favourite diſh; of what ingredients it was compoſed is not known; but, as they uſed no fleſh in their enter⯑tainments, it probably reſembled thoſe lenten ſoups which are ſtill in uſe on the continent. Dionyſius, the tyrant, found this fare very unpalatable; but, as the cook aſſerted, the broth was nothing without the ſeaſoning of fatigue and hunger.

To accuſtom the youth to early habits of diſci⯑pline and obedience, Lycurgus took their education out of the hands of their parents, and committed it to maſters appointed by the ſtate. So deſirous, indeed, was he of having a hardy and robuſt race of citizens, that he began the work of education, even from the time of the mother's conception, making it her duty to uſe ſuch diet and exerciſe, as might fit her to produce a healthy and vigorous off⯑ſpring. Nay, ſuch children as were born with any capital defect, were not ſuffered to be brought up, but were expoſed to periſh in a cavern near mount Taygetus; and ſuch as, upon a public view, were deemed to be ſound and healthy, were adopted as children of the ſtate, and delivered to their parents to be nurſed with rigour and ſeverity. From their tendereſt years they were accuſtomed to make no choice in their eating, not to be afraid in the dark, or when left alone; not to be peeviſh or fretful; to walk barefoot; to lie hard at nights; to wear the ſame clothes ſummer and winter, and to fear no⯑thing from their equals. At the age of ſeven they were taken from their parents, and delivered over to the claſſes for a public education. Their diſ⯑cipline there was ſtill more rigid and ſevere. They were ſtill obliged to go barefoot, their heads were ſhaved, and they fought with one another naked.

To enable them the better to endure bodily pain without complaining, they were annually whipt at the altar of Diana; and the boy that bore [10] this puniſhment with the greateſt fortitude, came off victorious. Plutarch tells us, that he has ſeen ſeveral children expire under this cruel treatment; and he makes mention of one, who having ſtolen a fox, and hid it under his coat, choſe rather to let the animal tear out his bowels than diſcover the theft. In order to prepare them for the ſtratagems of war, they were permitted to ſteal from one another; but if they were caught in the fact, they were puniſhed for their want of dexterity. At twelve years of age they were removed into a claſs of a more advanced kind. There their labour and diſcipline were increaſed with their years. They had now their ſkirmiſhes between ſmall parties, and their mock fights between larger bodies; and in theſe they ſometimes fought with ſuch obſtinacy, that they were ſeen to loſe their eyes, and even their lives, before they gave up the conteſt. Such was the conſtant diſcipline of their minority, which laſted till the age of thirty, before which they were not permitted to marry, to go into the troops, or to bear any office in the ſtate.

The diſcipline of the virgins was as ſevere as that of the young men. They were enured to a life of labour and induſtry till they were twenty years of age, before which time they were not allowed to be marriageable. They had alſo their peculiar exerciſes. They ran, wreſtled, and pitched the bar; and performed all theſe feats naked before the whole body of the citizens. Yet this was thought no way indecent, as it was ſuppoſed, that the frequent view of the perſon would tend rather to check than excite every irregular deſire. An education ſo man⯑like, did not fail to beſtow upon the Spartan wo⯑man equal vigour of body and mind. They were bold, hardy, and patriotic, filled with a ſenſe of ho⯑nour, and a love of military glory. Some foreign women, in converſation with the wife of Leonidas, [11] ſaying, that the Spartan women alone knew how to govern the men, ſhe boldly replied, ‘"The Spartan women alone bring forth men."’ A mo⯑ther was known to give her ſon, who was going to battle, his ſhield, with this gallant advice, ‘"Re⯑turn with it, or return upon it;"’ thereby in ef⯑fect telling him, that, rather than throw it away in flight, he ſhould be borne home upon it dead. Ano⯑ther hearing that her ſon was killed fighting for his country, ſhe anſwered without any emotion, ‘"It was for that I brought him into the world."’ After the battle of Leuctra, the parents of thoſe who fell in the action, went to the temples to thank the gods that their ſons had done their duty, while thoſe whoſe children ſurvived that dreadful day were over⯑whelmed with grief.

Beſides theſe general regulations, there were many other ſubordinate maxims, that, by long and con⯑ſtant practice, obtained the force of laws. The Spartans were expreſsly forbid to exerciſe any me⯑chanic art. War was their chief occupation, and in time of peace they employed themſelves in hunt⯑ing, or bodily exerciſes. The Helots, or ſlaves, tilled their lands for them, and received for their labour a bare ſubſiſtence. Nor was this the only hardſhip to which theſe unhappy men were ſubject. They were in a manner bound to the ſoil, nor was it even lawful to ſell them to ſtrangers, or to make them free. Nay, if at any time their numbers [...]n⯑creaſed to ſuch a degree as to excite the ſuſpicion of their cruel maſters, there was a C [...]yptia, or ſecret act, by which it was permitted to deſt [...]oy them with⯑out mercy. Thucydides relates, that two thouſand of theſe ſlaves diſappeared at once, without ever after be⯑ing heard of. Nor were they only thus wantonly put to death, they were even made a mockery of while living. They were frequently intoxicated on pur⯑poſe, and in that condition expoſed before the [12] children, in order to deter them from this kind of debauchery.

As to the citizens themſelves being poſſeſſed, by means of their ſlaves, of competence and leiſure, they were almoſt always in company in their large common halls, where they met and converſed with one another. The love of their country was their ruling paſſion, and all ſelf-intereſt ſeemed loſt in the general wiſh for the welfare of the public. Pe⯑darctus having miſſed the honour of being choſen one for the three hundred who had a certain rank in the city, converted his diſappointment into joy, ‘"that there were three hundred better men in Sparta than he."’

The Spartans were forbid to make frequent war upon the ſame people, leſt they ſhould teach their diſcipline to others. When they had broken and routed their enemies, they never purſued them far⯑ther than was neceſſary to make themſelves ſure of the victory. This had an excellent effect; for the enemy, knowing that all who reſiſted were put to the ſword, often fled, as they were convinced that this was the moſt effectual means of enſuring their ſafety. With the Spartans themſelves the caſe was directly the reverſe. For their firſt and moſt invio⯑lable maxim, was never to turn their backs on the enemy, however unequal to them in numbers, nor ever to deliver up their arms till they reſigned them with their life. Nay, they would not ſuffer the contrary notion to be propagated, or even men⯑tioned among them. For when the poet Archilo⯑chus came to Sparta, he was obliged to quit the city, for having aſſerted in one of his poems, that it was better for a man to loſe his arms than his life. Thus depending upon their valour alone, their legiſ⯑lator would not allow them to wall the city. It was his opinion, that a wall of men was preferable to a wall of brick; and that valour, which is obliged [13] to take ſhelter within a fortification, is little better than cowardice.

Such was the general purport of the inſtitutions of Lycurgus, which from their tendency gained the eſteem and admiration of all the ſurrounding ſtates. In order to render them as laſting as they were ex⯑cellent, Lycurgus pretended, that ſomething was ſtill wanting to the completion of his plan, and that it was neceſſary for him to go and conſult the oracle of Delphos. In the mean time, he perſuaded his countrymen to take an oath for the ſtrict obſervance of all his laws till his return, and then left Sparta with a firm reſolution of never ſeeing it more. When he arrived at Delphos, he enquired of the oracle, whether the laws he had made were ſufficient to render the Lacedaemonians happy; and being told that they were, he ſent this anſwer to Sparta, and then voluntarily ſtarved himſelf to death. Others ſay, that he died in Crete, ordering his body to be burnt, and his aſhes to be thrown into the ſea. Whichever of theſe was the caſe, he equally obliged his countrymen, by the oath they had taken, to ob⯑ſerve his laws for ever; which, indeed, they were ſufficiently inclined to do, from a conviction of their real and intrinſic merit.

The firſt opportunity, which the Spartans had, to diſ⯑play the ſuperiority of their power among the neigh⯑bouring ſtates, was in the war between them and the Meſſenians. This war laſted twenty years, and is remarkable for two incidents that are well worthy of notice. The Spartans having drained their city of all its male inhabitants in order to carry on the war, and having bound themſelves by an oath not to return home till they had conquered the enemy; their women, in the mean time, remonſtrated, that from their long abſence all poſterity would be at an end. To remedy this inconvenience, they detached [14] fifty of their moſt promiſing young men from the army to go to Sparta, and to lie promiſcuouſly with all the young women they pleaſed. The offspring of theſe virgins were from them called Partheniae, who finding themſelves deſpiſed by the Spartans, on their return, as a ſpurious race, joined ſome years after in an inſurrection with the Helots, but were ſoon ſup⯑preſſed. Being expelled the ſtate, they went under the conduct of their Captain Phalantus, and ſettled at Tarentum in Italy.

The other incident is this. The Meſſenians having ſent to conſult the oracle of Delphos, re⯑ceived for anſwer, that they muſt offer a virgin of the family of Aepytus as a ſacrifice. The lot fell upon the daughter of Lyciſcus; but ſhe being thought to be ſuppoſititious, Ariſtodemus offered his daughter, whom all allowed to be his own. Her lover, however, attempted to avert the blow, by aſ⯑ſerting that ſhe was with child by him; but her father was ſo enraged at the imputation, that he ripped up her belly with his own hands publicly, in order to vindicate her innocence. The enthu⯑ſiaſm, produced by this ſacrifice, ſerved for a while to give the Meſſenians the advantage; but being at laſt overthrown and beſieged in the city of I thoe, they were obliged to ſubmit to the Spartans, and Ariſtodemus ſlew himſelf on his daughter's grave.

After a rigorous ſubjection of thirty-nine years, the Meſſenians made one effort more for the reco⯑very of their liberty under the conduct of Ariſto⯑menes, who thrice defeated the Spartan army, and as often merited the Hecatomphonia, a ſacrifice due to thoſe who had killed one hundred of the enemy hand to hand in battle. But the Spartans, being headed by the famous Athenian poet and ſchool⯑maſter Tyrtaeus, who inflamed their courage by his ſongs and orations, the Meſſenians were at laſt [15] A. M. 3340.obliged to abandon their country, which was added to the territory of Sparta, and thus rendered that kingdom one of the moſt powerful ſtates in all Greece.

CHAP. III. OF THE GOVERNMENT OF ATHENS, THE LAWS OF SOLON, AND THE HISTORY OF THE REPUBLIC, FROM THE TIME OF SOLON TO THE COM⯑MENCEMENT OF THE PERSIAN WAR.

THE happy effects produced at Sparta, by the inſtitutions of Lycurgus, at laſt in ſpired the Athenians with a deſire of being governed by writ⯑ten laws; and the firſt perſon they pitched upon for a legiſlator was Draco, a man of equal integrity and wiſdom, but rigid and ſevere in the higheſt de⯑gree. ¹Draco inflicted death on all crimes without exception, and being aſked why he did ſo, replied, ‘"Small crimes deſerve death, and I have no higher puniſhment even for the greateſt."’ His laws, indeed, were ſo ſevere, that they were ſaid to be written not with ink, but with blood. Their ſeverity, however, defeated their intention. It was impoſſible to carry them into execution. They therefore fell into diſuſe; and the people, from the neglect and contempt of laws, ſoon grew more licentious than ever they had been before any written laws exiſted. It was in this diſ⯑treſsful ſtate of the Republic, that Solon was applied to for his advice and aſſiſtance in regulating the government.

To mention all the proofs he had given of his wiſdom, before he was advanced to the office of legi⯑ſlator, would be foreign to our purpoſe. Suffice it to ſay, that he was one of the ſeven wiſe men of [16] Greece. The others were, Thales the Mileſian, Chilo of Lacedaemon, Pittacus of Mitylene, Pe⯑riander of Corinth, and Bias and Cleobulus, whoſe birth-places are uncertain. One day at the court of Periander, a queſtion was pro⯑poſed, which was the moſt perfect popular go⯑vernment? That, ſaid Bias, where the laws have no ſuperior. That, ſaid Thales, where the people are neither too rich nor too poor. That, ſaid Ana⯑charſis the Scythian, where virtue is honoured and vice deteſted. That, ſaid Pittacus, where dignities are always conferred upon the virtuous, and never upon the baſe. That, ſaid Cleobulus, where the citizens fear blame more than puniſhment. That, ſaid Chilo, where the laws are more regarded than the orators. But Solon's opinion ſeems to be beſt founded, who ſaid, where an injury done to the meaneſt ſubject is an inſult upon the whole community.

Nor muſt we omit his celebrated interview with Croeſus, king of Lydia. That monarch, who was reputed the richeſt prince of his time, having diſ⯑played before him his immenſe wealth and treaſures, aſked, whether he did not think him the happieſt of mankind? No, replied Solon; I know one man more happy, a poor peaſant of Greece, who, neither in affluence nor poverty, has but few wants, and has learned to ſupply them by his own labour. But at leaſt, ſaid the vain monarch, do you not think me happy? Alas, cried Solon, what man can be pro⯑nounced happy before he dies? The ſagacity of Solon's replies appeared in the ſequel. The king⯑dom of Lydia was invaded by Cyrus, the empire deſtroyed, and Croeſus himſelf taken priſoner. When he was led out to execution, according to the barbarous manners of the times, he then recol⯑lected the maxims of Solon, and could not help cry⯑ing out, when on the ſcaffold, upon Solon's name. Cyrus hearing him repeat the name with great ear⯑neſtneſs, [17] was deſirous of knowing the reaſon; and being informed by Croeſus of that philoſopher's re⯑markable obſervation, he began to fear for himſelf, pardoned Croeſus, and took him for the future into confidence and friendſhip. Thus Solon had the merit of ſaving one king's life, and of reforming another.

Such was the man whom the Athenians how raiſed to the high dignity of Archon, and inveſted with full power to new-model the government. Solon, however, was ſenſible that there were cer⯑tain diſorders in the ſtate that were altogether in⯑curable; and with theſe therefore he reſolved not in the leaſt to meddle. In a word, as he himſelf de⯑clared, he gave his countrymen not the beſt of all poſſible laws, but the beſt they were capable of re⯑ceiving. His firſt ſtep was in favour of the poor, whoſe debts he aboliſhed at once, and who had been grievouſly oppreſſed by the rich, by the exorbitant intereſt they exacted from them. But to do this with the leaſt injury he could to the creditor, he raiſed the value of money a little, and by that means nominally increaſed their riches. His next ſtep was to repeal all the laws of Draco, except thoſe againſt murder. He then proceeded to the regulation of offices, employments, and magiſtracies, all which he left in the hands of the rich. He divided the rich citizens into three claſſes, ranging them ac⯑cording to their incomes. Thoſe that had five hun⯑dred meaſures yearly, as well in corn as liquids, were placed in the firſt rank; thoſe that had three hundred were placed in the ſecond; and thoſe that had but two hundred made up the third. All the reſt of the citizens, whoſe income fell ſhort of two hundred meaſures, were compriſed in a fourth and laſt claſs, and were conſidered as incapable of hold⯑ing any employment whatever. But to compenſate for this excluſion, he gave every private citizen a right [18] to vote in the great aſſembly of the whole body of the people. And this, indeed, was a right of a moſt important nature. For by the laws of Athens it was permitted, after the deciſion of the magiſtrates, to appeal to the general aſſembly of the people; and thus, in time, all cauſes of weight and conſequence came before them.

To counteract, however, the influence of a po⯑pular aſſembly, Solon gave greater weight to the court of Areopagus, and alſo inſtituted another council conſiſting of four hundred. Before his time the Areopagus was compoſed of ſuch citizens as were moſt remarkable for their probity and wiſdom. But Solon now ordained, that none ſhould be ad⯑mitted into it, but ſuch as had paſſed through the office of Archon. By this means the dignity, and conſequently the authority, of the court were greatly increaſed: and ſuch was its reputation for integrity and diſcernment, that the Romans ſometimes refer⯑red cauſes, which were too intricate for their own deciſion, to the determination of this tribunal. The buſineſs of the council of four hundred was to judge upon appeals from the Areopagus, and ma⯑turely to examine every queſtion before it came be⯑fore the general aſſembly of the people.

Such was the reformation in the general plan of government; his particular laws for the adminiſtra⯑tion of juſtice were more numerous, and equally [...]udicious. To promote a ſpirit of patriotiſm, and prevent all ſelfiſh indifference about the concerns of the Republic, he ordained, that whoever in public diſſenſions eſpouſed neither party, but remained neuter, ſhould be declared infamous, condemned to perpetual exile, and to have all his eſtates confiſ⯑cated. From a ſimilar motive, he permitted every perſon to eſpouſe the quarrel of any one that was injured or inſulted. He aboliſhed the cuſtom of giving portions with young women, unleſs they were [19] only children. He wiſhed to render matrimony an honourable connection, and not, as it formerly had too often been, and ſtill continues to be, a mere matter of traffic. He allowed every one that was childleſs to diſpoſe of his wealth as he pleaſed, with⯑out being obliged to leave it to the next of kin. By this means, the natural dependence of the young upon the old was ſtrengthened and increaſed. He leſſened the rewards of the victors at the Olympic and Iſthmian games, whom he conſidered as an uſeleſs, and often a dangerous ſet of citizens, and beſtowed the money thus ſaved upon the widows and children of thoſe who had fallen in the ſervice of their country.

To encourage induſtry, he empowered the Areo⯑pagus to enquire into every man's method of pro⯑curing a livelihood, and to puniſh ſuch as had no viſible way of doing ſo. With the like view he or dained, that a ſon ſhould not be obliged to ſupport his father in old age or neceſſity, if the latter had neglected to give him ſome trade or calling; and all illegitimate children were exempted from the ſame duty, as they owed nothing to their parents but the ſtigma of their birth. No one was allowed to revile another in public; the magiſtrates were obliged to be particularly circumſpect in their behaviour; and it was even death for an Archon to be taken drunk. Againſt the crime of parricide he made no law, as ſuppoſing it could never exiſt in any ſociety. To preſerve the ſanctity of the marriage-bed, he per⯑mitted any one to kill an adulterer, if he was taken in the fact; and though he allowed of public bro⯑thels, he branded both the women and men who frequented them, with an indelible mark of diſgrace.

Such were the chief inſtitutions of this celebrated lawgiver, which he bound the Athenians, by a pub⯑lic oath, to obſerve religiouſly, at leaſt, for the ſpace of a hundred years; and having thus completed the [20] taſk aſſigned him, he ſet out on his travels, leaving his countrymen to become habituated to the new form of government. But it was not eaſy for a people long torn by civil diſſenſions to yield implicit obedience to any laws, however wiſely framed; their for⯑mer animoſities began to revive, when that authority was removed which alone could hold them in ſub⯑jection. The factions of the ſtate were headed by three different leaders, Piſiſtratus, Megacles, and Lycurgus. Of theſe Piſiſtratus was at once the moſt powerful, the moſt artful, and in the end the moſt ſucceſsful. He had many virtues, and hardly a ſingle vice, except that of an inordinate ambition. He was learned himſelf, and an encourager of learn⯑ing in others. Cicero ſays, he was the firſt that made the Athenians acquainted with the works of Homer; that he diſpoſed of them in the order in which we now have them, and firſt cauſed them to be read at the feaſts called Panathenaea.

By his promiſes, his profeſſions, his liberality and addreſs, he ſo far gained upon the affections of his countrymen, that he was juſt upon the point of making himſelf maſter of the government, when he had the mortification to ſee Solon return, after an abſence of ten years, fully appriſed of his treacherous deſigns, and determined, if poſſible, to prevent their completion. This, however, he could not do for any length of time; for Piſiſtratus now finding his ſchemes ripe for execution, gave himſelf ſeveral wounds, which he pretended to have received in the cauſe of the people; and in that condition, with his body all bloody, he ordered himſelf to be car⯑ried in his chariot to the market-place, where, by his complaints and eloquence, he ſo inflamed the minds of the populace, that he obtained a guard of fifty perſons for the ſecurity of his perſon. This was all he aimed at; for having now got the rudiments of a ſtanding army, he ſoon increaſed it to ſuch a de⯑gree, [21] as to enable him to ſet all oppoſition at de⯑fiance. In a little time, therefore, he ſeized upon the citadel, and in effect uſurped the ſupreme power. Solon did not long ſurvive the liberties of his coun⯑try. He died about two years after, at the age of eighty, admired and lamented by all the ſtates of Greece, as the greateſt legiſlator, and, excepting Ho⯑mer, the greateſt poet that had hitherto appeared.

By adhering to the ſame arts by which he had acquired his power, Piſiſtratus contrived to main⯑tain himſelf in the poſſeſſion of it to his dying day, and tranſmitted it to his two ſons, Hippias and Hipparchus. Theſe young men ſeemed to tread in the footſteps of their father. They encouraged learning and learned men. They invited to their court Anacreon, Simonides, and other poets, and honoured them with their friendſhip, and loaded them with preſents. They eſtabliſhed ſchools for the improvement of youth, and cauſed Mercuries to be erected in all the highways, with moral ſen⯑tences written upon them, for the inſtruction of the loweſt vulgar. Their reign, however, laſted but eighteen years, and terminated upon the following occaſion.

Harmodius and Ariſtogiton, two citizens of Athens, had contracted a moſt ſincere and invio⯑lable friendſhip, and reſolved to conſider any inſult that ſhould be offered to either as an injury done to both. Hipparchus, being naturally of an amo⯑rous diſpoſition, debauched the ſiſter of Harmodius, and afterwards publiſhed her ſhame as ſhe was about to walk in one of the ſacred proceſſions, alledging that ſhe was not in a condition to aſſiſt at the cere⯑mony. Such an indignity was not to be borne; and they therefore reſolved to deſtroy the tyrant, which, after various efforts, they at laſt effected, though they themſelves fell in the attempt. Hippias naturally wreaked his reſentment upon all whom he ſuppoſed [22] privy to the conſpiracy, and, among others, upon a courtezan of the name of Leona, whoſe courage and conſtancy deſerve to be mentioned. When put to the torture, ſhe bore all the cruelty of her execu⯑tioners with invincible fortitude; and leſt ſhe ſhould, in the agony of pain, be induced to a confeſſion, ſhe bit off her tongue, and ſpit it in the tyrant's face. To perpetuate her memory, the Athenians erected a ſtatue, repreſenting a lioneſs without a tongue.

A. M. 3496. Hippias, dreading the fate of his brother, endea⯑voured to fortify himſelf by foreign alliances, and particularly by one with the Lacedaemonians; but in this he was prevented by the family of the Alc⯑maeonidae, who had been baniſhed from Athens at the beginning of the uſurpation, and who having rebuilt the temple of Delphos in a moſt magni⯑ficent manner, had ſecured the prieſteſs in their in⯑tereſt. Whenever, therefore, the Spartans came to conſult the Oracle, they never received any pro⯑miſe of the God's aſſiſtance, but upon condition of ſetting Athens free. This taſk, therefore, they re⯑ſolved to undertake; and, though unſucceſsful in their firſt attempt, they at laſt dethroned the tyrant the very ſame year in which the kings were expelled from Rome. The family of Alcmaeon were chiefly inſtrumental in this great work; but the people ſeemed fonder of acknowledging their obligations to the two friends who ſtruck the firſt blow. The names of Harmo⯑dius and Ariſtogiton were ever after held in the higheſt veneration; and their ſtatues were erected in the market-place, an honour which had never been paid to any one before.

CHAP. IV. FROM THE EXPULSION OF HIPPIAS, TO THE DEATH OF MILTIADES.

THOUGH Hippias, upon being driven from the throne, was obliged to abandon his native country, he did not, however, abandon all hopes of being able, ſome time or other, to recover his loſt power. He firſt applied to the Lacedaemonians, and that people ſeemed ſufficiently willing to eſpouſe his cauſe; and they thought they might the more eaſily effect his reſtoration, as Athens was at this time thrown into confuſion, by the introduction of the new mode of voting by oſtraciſm, that is of pro⯑curing the baniſhment of any citizen for ten years, whoſe wealth or popularity rendered him dangerous to the ſtate, by allowing every one above ſixty years of age to give in the name of the obnoxious perſon, written upon a tile or oyſter-ſhell. Before they un⯑dertook, however, to aſſiſt Hippias in re-aſcending the throne, they thought it prudent to conſult the other ſtates of Greece with regard to the propriety of the meaſure, and finding them all to be totally averſe to it, they abandoned the tyrant and his cauſe for ever.

Hippias, diſappointed in his hopes of aid from the Lacedaemonians, had recourſe to one whom he con⯑ſidered as a much more powerful patron. This was Artaphernes, governor of Sardis, for the king of Perſia. To him he repreſented the facility with which an entire conqueſt might be made of Athens; and the Perſian court, influenced by the proſpect of gaining ſuch an addition of territory, and particu⯑larly ſuch an extent of ſea-coaſt, readily adopted the propoſal. When the Athenians, therefore, ſent a meſſenger into Perſia to vindicate their proceed⯑ings with regard to Hippias, they received for anſwer, [24] ‘"That if they wiſhed to be ſafe, they muſt admit Hippias for their king.’ But theſe gallant re⯑publicans had too ardent a paſſion for liberty, and too rooted an averſion to ſlavery, patiently to ſubmit to ſo imperious a mandate. They, there⯑fore, returned to it a flat and peremptory refuſal. And from that time forward the Athenians and Perſians began to prepare for commencing hoſti⯑lities againſt each other.

The gallantry, indeed, of the Athenians, upon this occaſion, is the more to be admired, as their numbers and reſources bore no proportion to thoſe of the prince whom they thus ſet at defiance. The Perſian monarch was, at that time, the moſt power⯑ful ſovereign in the univerſe; whereas the ſmall ſtate of Athens did not contain above twenty thouſand citizens, ten thouſand ſtrangers, and about fifty or ſixty thouſand ſervants. The ſtate of Sparta, which afterwards took ſuch a conſiderable ſhare, and made ſo capital a figure in the war againſt Perſia, was ſtill more inconſiderable with reſpect to numbers. Theſe did not amount to above nine thouſand citizens, and about thirty thouſand peaſants. And yet theſe two ſtates, with very little aſſiſtance from the inferior republics, were able not only to reſiſt, but even to baffle and defeat all the attempts of the Perſian monarch; a memorable inſtance what acts of heroiſm may be performed by men animated by a love of freedom, and inſpired with a paſſion for military glory.

The reſtoration of Hippias was not the only cauſe of quarrel between the Perſians and the Athenians. The Greek colonies of lonia, Aeolia, and Caria, that had been ſettled for above five hundred years in Aſia Minor, were at length ſubdued by Croeſus king of Lydia; and he, in turn, ſinking under the power of Cyrus, his conqueſts, of courſe, fell in with the reſt of his dominions. Theſe colonies, [25] however, had not yet loſt all memory of the liberty they had formerly enjoyed; and they therefore ſeiz⯑ed every opportunity of delivering themſelves from the Perſian yoke, and recovering their ancient in⯑dependence. In this they were now encouraged by Hiſtiaeus, the governor, or tyrant as he was called, of Miletus; for all the Perſian governors of theſe provinces were by the Greeks called tyrants. This man, having rendered his fidelity ſuſpected at the Perſian court, had no other way of providing for his own ſafety than by exciting the Ionians to a revolt. By his direction, therefore, Ariſtagoras, his deputy, firſt applied to the Lacedaemonians for aſſiſtance; and failing of ſucceſs in that quarter, he next had recourſe to the Athenians, where he met with a more favourable reception. The Athenians were at this time inflamed with the higheſt reſentment againſt the Perſian monarch, on account of his naughty mandate with regard to the reſtoration of Hippias; and they therefore ſupplied the Ionians with twenty ſhips, to which the Eretrians and Eu⯑poeans added five more.

Thus ſupported, Ariſtagoras entered the Perſian territories, and penetrating into the heart of Lydia, he burned Sardis the capital city; but being ſoon after deſerted by the Athenians, on account of ſome [...]hecks he received, he found himſelf altogether un⯑ [...]ble to make head againſt the power of Perſia; and [...]hough he contrived to maintain the ſtruggle for the [...]pace of ſix years, yet he was at laſt obliged to fly [...]nto Thrace, where he was cut off with all his fol⯑ [...]owers. As to Hiſtiaeus himſelf, being taken pri⯑ [...]oner with a few of the inſurgents, he was conduct⯑ [...]d to Artaphernes, and that inhuman tyrant imme⯑ [...]ediately ordered him to be crucified, and his head [...]o be ſent to Darius.

[26]The commencement of this war naturally tended to widen the breach between the Athenians and Perſians, and the concluſion of it was no leſs cal⯑culated to inflame the pride and preſumption of the latter, and to inſpire them with the ambitious thoughts of making an entire conqueſt of Greece. To pave the way for this grand project, Darius, in the twenty-eighth year of his reign, having recalled all his other generals, ſent his ſon-in-law, Mardo⯑nius, to command throughout the maritime parts of Aſia, and particularly to revenge the burning of Sar⯑dis, which he could neither forgive nor forget. But his fleet being ſhattered in a ſtorm in doubling the cape of Mount Athos, and his army repulſed, and himſelf wounded, by the Thracians, who attacked him ſuddenly by night, Mardonius returned to the Perſian court, covered with ſhame and confuſion for having miſcarried in his enterprize both by ſea and land. Darius, therefore, diſplaced him, and ap⯑pointed two older and abler generals, namely, Da⯑tis, a Mede, and Artaphernes, ſon of the late go⯑vernor of Sardis, in his ſtead. At the ſame time he exerted himſelf with unwearied diligence, in fur⯑niſhing them with ſuch an army and navy as might render them morally certain of ſucceſs.

Previous, however, to his invaſion of Greece, he thought it became his dignity and humanity to ſend heralds into that country to require ſubmiſſion from the different ſtates, or to threaten them with his vengeance in caſe of refuſal. The leſſer ſtates, intimidated by his power, readily ſubmitted; but the Athenians and Spartans nobly diſdained to acknow⯑ledge ſubjection to any earthly ſovereign. When, therefore, the heralds demanded earth and water, the uſual method of requiring ſubmiſſion from infe⯑rior ſtates, theſe ſpirited republicans threw the one into a well, and the other into a ditch, and taunt⯑ingly [27] bid them take earth and water from thence. Nay, they went ſtill farther; they reſolved to puniſh [...]he Aeginetans for having baſely ſubmitted to the [...]ower of Perſia, and by that means betrayed the [...]ommon cauſe of Greece. Theſe people, indeed, made ſome reſiſtance. They even carried on a [...]aval war againſt the Athenians; but theſe laſt hav⯑ [...]g at length overcome them, increaſed their own [...]avy to ſuch a degree, as to render it almoſt an equal [...]atch for that of Perſia.

In the mean time Darius, having completed his [...]vies, ſent away his generals, Datis and Arta⯑ [...]hernes, to what be conſidered as a certain con⯑ [...]eſt. They were furniſhed with a fleet of ſix [...]undred ſhips, and an army of an hundred and [...]wenty thouſand men; and their inſtructions were [...] give up Athens and Eretria to be plundered, to [...]urn all the houſes and temples of both, and to lead [...]way the inhabitants into captivity. The country [...]as to be laid deſolate, and the army was provided [...]ith a ſufficient number of chains for binding the [...]iſoners.

To oppoſe this formidable invaſion, the Athenians [...]d only about ten thouſand men, but all of them [...]imated with that invincible ſpirit which the love [...] liberty ever inſpires. They were at this time [...]aded by three of the greateſt generals and ſtateſmen [...]eir country ever produced, though no country [...]er produced more. Theſe were Miltiades, The⯑ [...]iſtocles, and Ariſtides. The firſt was looked [...]on as the ableſt commander; the ſecond was ſo [...]nd of a popular government, and ſo eager to in⯑ [...]atiate himſelf with his fellow-citizens, that he was [...]quently accuſed of acts of partiality. Indeed, [...] ſeemed to glory in the charge; for one day, [...]en ſomebody was talking to him on the ſubject, [...]d ſaying that he would make an excellent magiſ⯑ [...]te it he had more impartiality; ‘"God forbid, [28] replied he, that I ſhould ever ſit upon a tribunal where my friends ſhould find no more favour than ſtrangers."’ As to Ariſtides, he was ſo rigidly and inflexibly juſt, that his name has deſcended to poſ⯑terity as almoſt another term for juſtice itſelf.

The firſt brunt of the war fell upon the Eretri⯑ans, who being utterly unable to oppoſe ſo mighty a force in the field, ſhut themſelves up in the town; but though they defended the place with great gal⯑lantry, yet, after a ſiege of ſeven days, it was taken by ſtorm, and reduced to aſhes. The inhabitants were put in chains, and ſent as the firſt-fruits of vic⯑tory to the Perſian monarch; but he, contrary to their expectation, treated them with great lenity, and gave them a village in the country of Ciſſa for their reſidence, where Apollonius Tyanaeus found their deſcendants ſix hundred years after.

Elated with this ſucceſs, the Perſians advanced into the heart of the country, and being directed in their march by Hippias, the expelled tyrant of Athens, they ſoon arrived in the plains of Mara⯑thon, about ten miles diſtant from that city. There, however, it was that the Athenians reſolved to op⯑poſe them; but not thinking themſelves ſingly equal to ſuch an undertaking, they firſt ſent to the Spar⯑tans for aſſiſtance, and would certainly have obtain⯑ed it, had it not been for a fooliſh ſuperſtition which prevailed among that people, and which would not allow them to begin a march before the full moon. They then applied to the other ſtates of Greece; but theſe were too much intimidated by the power of Perſia to venture to move in their defence.

Obliged, therefore, to depend upon their own courage alone, they collected all their forces, to the number of ten thouſand men, and entruſted the command of them to ten generals, of whom Mil⯑tiades was the chief; and each of theſe was to have the direction of the troops for one day at a time in [29] regular ſucceſſion. But this arrangement was ſoon found to be ſo very inconvenient, that, by the ad⯑vice of Ariſtides, the chief command was veſted in Miltiades alone, as the ableſt and moſt experienced of all the generals. At the ſame time it was re⯑ſolved in a council of war, though only by a ma⯑jority of one vote, to meet the enemy in the open field, inſtead of waiting for them within the walls of the city.

Miltiades, ſenſible of the inferiority of his num⯑bers when compared to thoſe of the enemy, endea⯑voured to make up for this defect by taking poſſeſ⯑ſion of an advantageous ground. He, therefore, drew up his army at the foot of a mountain, ſo that the enemy ſhould not be able to ſurround him or charge him in the rear. At the ſame time he for⯑tified his flanks with a number of large trees, that were cut down for the purpoſe. Datis ſaw the ad⯑vantage which the Athenians muſt derive from this maſterly diſpoſition; but relying on the ſuperiority of his numbers, and unwilling to wait till the Spar⯑tan ſuccours ſhould arrive, he reſolved to begin the engagement. The ſignal for battle, however, was no ſooner given than the Athenians, inſtead of wait⯑ing for the onſet of the enemy, according to their uſual cuſtom, ruſhed in upon them with irreſiſtible fury. The Perſians regarded this firſt ſtep as the reſult of madneſs and deſpair, rather than of deli⯑berate courage; but they were ſoon convinced of their miſtake when they found, that the Athenians maintained the charge with the ſame ſpirit with which they had begun it. Miltiades had purpoſely and judiciouſly made his wings much ſtronger than his center, which was commanded by Themiſtocles and Ariſtides. The Perſians, availing themſelves of this circumſtance, attacked the center with great bravery, and were juſt upon the point of making it give way, when the two wings, having now become [30] victorious, ſuddenly wheeled about, and falling up⯑on the enemy in both flanks at once, threw them into diſorder. The rout in a moment became uni⯑verſal, and they fled to their ſhips with great precipi⯑tation. The Athenians purſued them as far as the beach, and even ſet ſeveral of their ſhips on fire. It was on this occaſion that Cynaegyrus, the brother of the poet Aeſchylus, ſeized one of the enemy's ſhips with his right hand, as they were puſhing it off from the ſhore. When his right hand was cut off, he laid hold of the veſſel with his left; and that likewiſe being lopt off, he at laſt ſeized it with his teeth, and in that manner expired.

A. M. 3514. Seven of the enemy's ſhips were taken, and above ſix thouſand of them left dead upon the field of bat⯑tle, not to mention thoſe who were drowned as they were endeavouring to eſcape, or were conſumed in the ſhips that were ſet on fire. Of the Greeks there fell not above two hundred, and among theſe was Callimachus, who gave the caſting vote for fighting the enemy in the field. Hip⯑pias, who was the chief cauſe of the war, is thought to have periſhed in this battle, though ſome ſay he eſcaped, and afterwards died miſerably at Lemnos.

Such was the famous battle of Marathon, one of the moſt important that is to be found in hiſtory, as it firſt taught the Greeks to deſpiſe the power of the Perſian monarch, and bravely to maintain their own independence; and thus to go on cultivating thoſe arts and ſciences, which had ſo evident a ten⯑dency to poliſh and refine their own manners, and have ſince diffuſed their benign influence over all the reſt of Europe.

Of the marble which the Perſians had brought with them to erect a monument in memory of their ex⯑pected victory, the Athenians now cauſed a ſtatue to be made by the celebrated ſculptor Phidias, to tranſmit [31] to poſterity the remembrance of their defeat. This ſtatue was dedicated to the goddeſs Nemeſis, who had a temple near the place. Monuments were at the ſame time erected to the memory of all thoſe who had fallen in the battle; and upon theſe were inſcribed their own names, and the name of the tribe to which they belonged. Of theſe monuments there were three kinds; one for the Athenians, one for the Plataeans their allies, and one for the ſlaves, who had been enrolled into the troops upon this preſſing emergency. To expreſs their gratitude to Miltiades, the Athenians cauſed a picture to be painted by one of their moſt eminent artiſts, named Polygnotus, in which that great commander was repreſented at the head of the other generals, ani⯑mating the troops, and ſetting them an example of bravery.

But their gratitude to this celebrated warrior, however ſincere, was by no means laſting. The Athenians, with all their good qualities, were na⯑turally fickle, and apt to be jealous of ſuch as, either by their merit, their power, or popularity, had, in their opinion, rendered themſelves dangerous to the ſtate. Of this Miltiades had very ſoon after a mor⯑tifying proof. For having received a wound in an expedition againſt the Parians, and being thereby prevented from appearing in public to defend himſelf from a charge of bribery, which was brought againſt him by one Xanthippus, ſentence was of courſe paſſed upon him in his abſence, and he was con⯑demned to loſe his life. This ſevere ſentence, how⯑ever, the Athenians had not the effrontery to exe⯑cute upon one who had done them ſuch eſſential ſervices, and they therefore changed it into a fine of fifty talents; and as this was a ſum which Mil⯑tiades could not pay, he was thrown into priſon, where he ſoon after died. But the Athenians would not ſuffer his body to be buried till the fine was [32] paid. His ſon Cimon, therefore, by exerting all his intereſt among his friends and relations, was at laſt able to raiſe the requiſite ſum to pay the fine, and to procure his father an honourable interment.

CHAP. V. FROM THE DEATH OF MILTIADES TO THE RE⯑TREAT OF XERXES OUT OF GREECE.

DARIUS, rather enraged than intimidated by the loſs he had ſuſtained in the battle of Ma⯑rathon, was preparing to invade Greece in perſon, when, happily for the peace of that country, death put an end to his ambitious project. His ſon Xerxes, however, who ſucceded him on the throne, was determined to execute the plan which his father had formed. Having juſt returned from a ſucceſs⯑ful expedition he had made into Egypt, he expected to meet with the like good fortune in Europe. Con⯑fident of victory, he did not chuſe, he ſaid, for the future to buy the figs of Attica; he would poſſeſs himſelf of the country, and thus have figs of his own. But before he would engage in ſo important an enterprize, he thought proper to conſult the prin⯑cipal officers of his court. Mardonius, his brother-in-law, well knowing his ſecret ſentiments, and willing to flatter him in his favourite purſuits, high⯑ly applauded the reſolution he had taken. But Ar⯑tabanus, his uncle, whom years and experience had rendered wife, uſed every argument he could think of, in order to divert him from his raſh deſign, and he addreſſed himſelf to the king in the following terms:

"Permit me, Sir, ſaid he, to deliver my ſenti⯑ments upon this occaſion with that liberty which be⯑comes my age, and my regard for your intereſt. [33] When Darius, your father, and my brother, firſt thought of making war upon the Scythians, I uſed all my endeavours to divert him from it. The people you are going to attack are infinitely more formidable than they. If the Athenians alone could defeat the numerous army commanded by Datis and Artaphernes, what ought we to expect from an op⯑poſition of all the ſtates of Greece united? You deſign to paſs from Aſia into Europe, by laying a bridge over the ſea. But what if the Athenians ſhould advance and deſtroy this bridge, and ſo pre⯑vent our return? Let us not expoſe ourſelves to ſuch dangers, eſpecially as we have no ſufficient motives to induce us to run ſuch riſks; at leaſt let us take time to reflect upon the matter. When we have maturely conſidered an affair, whatever happens to be the ſucceſs of it, we have nothing to regret. Precipitation is imprudent, and is uſually unſuc⯑ceſsful. Above all, do not ſuffer yourſelf, great prince, to be dazzled with the ſplendor of ima⯑ginary glory. The higheſt trees have the moſt rea⯑ſon to dread being ſtruck with the thunder. As for you, Mardonius, who ſo earneſtly urge this ex⯑pedition, if it muſt be ſo, lead it forward. But let the king, whoſe life is dear to us all, return into Perſia. In the mean time, let your children and mine be given up as a pledge to anſwer for the ſucceſs of the war. If the iſſue be favourable, I conſent that mine be put to death; but if it be otherwiſe, as I foreſee it will, then I deſire that you and your children may receive the reward of raſh⯑neſs." The pride of the Perſian monarch could not eaſily bear ſuch a plain but honeſt ſpeech even from an uncle; and he therefore ſternly replied, ‘"Thank the gods that thou art my father's bro⯑ther; were it not for that, thou ſhouldſt this mo⯑ment receive the juſt reward of thy audacious be⯑haviour. But you ſhall have your puniſhment; [34] remain here behind among the women; theſe you but too much reſemble in your cowardice and fear. Stay here, while I march at the head of my troops where my duty and glory call me."’

Xerxes having thus reſolved upon his expedition into Greece, began to make preparations for carry⯑ing it forward; and the greatneſs of theſe ſhewed the high ſenſe he entertained of the power and bravery of the enemy. Sardis was the place of ge⯑neral rendezvous for his land forces; and the fleet was ordered to advance along the coaſts of Aſia Minor, towards the Helleſpont. In its way thither, in order to ſhorten its paſſage, he cut a canal through the neck of land that joined Mount Athos to the continent; and while this was doing, he addreſſed the mountain with all that pomp and oſtentation for which the Eaſtern princes have ever been ſo remarkable. ‘"Athos," ſaid he, "thou proud aſ⯑piring mountain, that lifteſt up thy head unto the heavens, be not ſo audacious to put obſtacles in my way. If thou doſt, I will cut thee level with the plain, and throw thee headlong into the ſea."’

In his march to Sardis, he gave a ſhocking proof of the extreme acts of cruelty he was capable of committing whenever his authority was called in queſtion. Having required the eldeſt ſon of Py⯑thias, a Lydian prince, to attend him in the war, the father offered him all his treaſure, amounting to about four millions ſterling, to purchaſe his exemp⯑tion; and as the young man ſeemed deſirous of ſtaying at home, Xerxes commanded him imme⯑diately to be put to death before his father's eyes. Then cauſing the body to be cut in two, and one part of it to be placed on the right, and the other on the left, he made his whole army paſs between them, a terrible example of what every one had to expect that dared to diſpute his orders.

[35]His army was compoſed not merely of Perſians, but of Medes, Lydians, Bactrians, Aſſyrians, Hyr⯑canians, in a word, of every people that either ac⯑knowledged his authority, dreaded his power, or courted his alliance. It is ſaid to have amounted to above two millions of men. His fleet conſiſted of fourteen hundred and twenty-ſeven ſhips, beſides a thouſand leſſer veſſels that were employed in carry⯑ing proviſions. On board of theſe were ſix hundred thouſand men; ſo that the whole army might be ſaid to amount to above two millions and a half; which, with the women, ſlaves, and ſutlers, always attending a Perſian camp, might make the whole about five millions of ſouls: a force which, if rightly conducted, might have given law to the univerſe; but being commanded by ignorance and preſump⯑tion, was ſoon after repulſed, and finally defeated by the ſmall but gallant ſtates of Greece.

With this mighty armament Xerxes ſet out on his expedition into Greece, ten years after the battle of Marathon.A. M. 3523. Upon review⯑ing his forces his heart was naturally elated with joy, from a conſciouſneſs of his ſuperior power: but this ſoon gave place to the feelings of humanity, and he burſt into tears when he reflected that, a hundred years hence, not one of ſo many thouſands would be alive. He had previouſly given orders for building a bridge of boats acroſs the Hel⯑leſpont, or, as it is now called, the Dardanelles, which ſeparates Aſia from Europe, and is about an Engliſh mile over. But this bridge, when com⯑pleted, being carried away by the current, Xerxes, like a tyrant, wreaked his vengeance upon the workmen, and, like a lunatic, upon the ſea. He cauſed the heads of the former to be ſtruck off, and a certain number of laſhes to be inflicted upon the latter, to puniſh it for its inſolence; and fetters to be thrown into it, to teach it, for the future, obedi⯑ence [36] to his will: a ſtriking proof how much the poſſeſſion of deſpotic power tends not only to corrupt the heart, but even to weaken and blind the under⯑ſtanding. Another and a ſtronger bridge was ſoon after built, and over this the army paſſed; though, ſuch was its immenſe number, the whole could not croſs in leſs than ſeven days.

Xerxes having thus reached Europe, began his march directly for Greece, receiving every where the ſubmiſſion of the countries through which he paſſed. Even the ſmaller ſtates of Greece, over⯑awed by his power, ſubmitted at the firſt ſummons. Athens and Sparta alone, thoſe glorious republics, nobly diſdained ſuch puſillanimous conduct. They gallantly reſolved to oppoſe the invader of their country, and either to preſerve their liberties entire, or to periſh in the attempt. From the moment that Xerxes began his preparations, they had received intelligence of his deſigns; and they, in their turn, began to take meaſures for rendering them abortive. They had alſo ſent ſpies to Sardis, in order to bring them an exact account of the number and quality of the enemy's forces. The ſpies, indeed, were ſeized; but Xerxes, inſtead of puniſhing, or even detaining them, ordered them to be conducted through his camp, and then diſmiſſed, deſiring them at the ſame time, on their return home, to give a faithful rela⯑tion of what they had ſeen. The Athenians and Spartans, however, neither intimidated by the mighty force that now came againſt them, nor by the baſe ſubmiſſion of the inferior ſtates, nobly reſolved to face the common danger with joint forces. Theſe forces did not amount to above eleven thouſand two hundred men; and yet with this handful of troops, they determined to oppoſe the almoſt innumerable army of Xerxes.

Their firſt care was to appoint a general; and they wiſely made choice of Themiſtocles, the ableſt [37] commander that had appeared in Greece ſince the death of Miltiades. They likewiſe recalled Ariſti⯑des, who had been driven into baniſhment by the faction of his enemies; at the head of which, in⯑deed, was Themiſtocles; ſuch is the jealouſy that ſometimes prevails between great men, though equally attached to the intereſt of their country! It was upon the occaſion of his baniſhment that a peaſant, who could not write, and did not know Ariſtides perſonally, applied to him, and deſired him to write the name of that citizen upon the ſhell, by which his vote was given againſt him. ‘"Has he done you any wrong," ſaid Ariſtides, "that you are for condemning him in this manner?"’ ‘"No," replied the peaſant, "but I hate to hear him always praiſed for his juſtice."’ Ariſtides, without ſaying a word more, calmly took the ſhell, wrote down his name upon it, and contentedly retired into exile. Themiſtocles, however, convinced of his uncom⯑mon merit, and willing to have the benefit of his counſels, was now as deſirous of having him re⯑called, as ever he had been to ſee him baniſhed; and theſe two great men, generouſly forgetting all their private feuds and animoſities, reſolved to exert their joint efforts in promoting the good of the public.

Themiſtocles ſaw that the enemy muſt be op⯑poſed by ſea as well as by land; and to enable him to do this with the greater effect, he had lately cauſed an hundred gallies to be built, and turned all his thoughts towards the improvement of the navy. The oracle had declared ſome time before, that Athens ſhould only defend herſelf with wooden walls; and he took the advantage of this ambiguity to perſuade his countrymen, that by ſuch walls was only meant her ſhipping. The Lacedaemonians uſed no leſs induſtry in improving their navy, ſo that, upon the approach of Xerxes, the confederates [38] found themſelves poſſeſſed of a ſquadron of two hun⯑dred and eighty ſail, the command of which was conferred upon Eurybiades, a Spartan.

The next point to be determined was, which was the moſt proper place for making the firſt ſtand againſt the enemy; and, after ſome deliberation, the ſtraits of Thermopylae were pitched upon for the purpoſe. This was a narrow paſs of twenty-five feet broad, between Theſſaly and Phocis, defended by the remains of an old wall, with gates to it, and remarkable for ſome hot baths, from whence the place had its name. The command of this im⯑portant paſs was given to Leonidas, one of the kings of Sparta, who led thither a body of ſix thouſand men. Of theſe three hundred only were Spartans; the reſt conſiſted of Boeotians, Corinthians, Pho⯑cians, and other allies. This choſen band were taught from the beginning to look upon themſelves as a forlorn hope, only placed there to check the progreſs of the enemy, and give them a foretaſte of the deſperate valour of Greece; nor were even ora⯑cles wanting to inſpire them with enthuſiaſtic ar⯑dour. It had been declared, that to procure the ſafety of Greece, it was neceſſary that a king, one of the deſcendants of Hercules, ſhould die; and this taſk was now cheerfully undertaken by Leonidas, who, when he marched out of Lacedaemon, conſi⯑dered himſelf as a willing ſacrifice offered up for the good of his country.

In the mean time Xerxes advanced with his im⯑menſe army, the very ſight of which, he thought, would terrify the Greeks into ſubmiſſion, without his being obliged to ſtrike a ſingle blow. Great, therefore, was his ſurprize, when he found that a few deſperate men were determined to diſpute his paſſage through the ſtraits of Thermopylae. At firſt be could not believe they would perſevere in their reſolution; and he therefore gave them four days [39] to reflect on their danger, hoping they would at laſt think it moſt prudent to retire. But when he found them remain immoveable in their poſt, he ſent them a ſummons to deliver up their arms. Leonidas, with a true Spartan contempt, deſired him ‘"to come and take them."’ And when ſome people ſaid that the Perſian forces were ſo numerous that their very darts would darken the ſun, ‘"Then," replied Dieneces, a Spartan, "we ſhall fight in the ſhade."’

Xerxes, provoked at theſe ſarcaſms, reſolved to begin the attack immediately. The firſt aſſault was made by a body of Medes, but theſe were inſtantly repulſed with great ſlaughter. A body of ten thou⯑ſand Perſians, commonly known by the name of the immortal band, made another attempt to diſlodge the Grecians, but with no better ſucceſs than the former. In a word, the Greeks maintained their ground againſt the whole power of the Perſian army for two days together; and would probably have maintained it much longer, had it not been for the treachery of Epialtes, a Trachinian, who, having deſerted to the enemy, conducted a body of twenty thouſand Perſians through a by-path to the top of a mountain that overhung the ſtraits.

Leonidas ſeeing the enemy in this ſituation, plain⯑ly perceived that his poſt was no longer tenable. He therefore adviſed his allies to retire, and reſerve themſelves for better times, and the future ſafety of Greece. As for himſelf and his fellow-Spartans, they were obliged by their laws not to fly; that he owed a life to his country, and that it was now his duty to fall in its defence. Thus, having diſ⯑miſſed all but his three hundred Spartans, with ſome Theſpians and Thebans, in all not a thouſand men, he exhorted his followers in the moſt cheerful man⯑ner to prepare for death. ‘"Come, my fellow ſol⯑diers," ſays he, "let us dine cheerfully here, for to⯑night we ſhall ſup with Pluto."’ His men, upon [40] hearing his determined purpoſe, ſet up a loud ſhout, as if they had been invited to a banquet, and re⯑ſolved every man to ſell his life as dearly as he could. The night now began to advance, and this was thought the moſt glorious opportunity of meeting death in the enemy's camp, where darkneſs, by hiding the ſmallneſs of their numbers, would fill the Perſians with greater conſternation. Thus re⯑ſolved, they made directly to the Perſian tents, and, in the ſilence of the night, had almoſt penetrated to the royal pavilion, with hopes of ſurpriſing the king. The obſcurity added much to the horror of the ſcene; and the Perſians, incapable of diſtinguiſhing friend from foe, fell furiouſly upon each other, and rather aſſiſted than oppoſed the Greeks. Thus ſuc⯑ceſs ſeemed to crown the raſhneſs of their enter⯑prize, until the morning beginning to dawn, the light ſoon diſcovered the ſmallneſs of their numbers. They were ſoon, therefore, ſurrounded by the Per⯑ſian forces, who fearing to fall in upon them, flung their javelins from every quarter, till the Greeks, not ſo much conquered, as tired with conquering, fell amidſt heaps of the ſlaughtered enemy, leaving be⯑hind them an example of courage, to which there is no parallel to be found in hiſtory. Leonidas was one of the firſt that fell; and the endeavours of the Lacedaemonians to defend his dead body were in⯑credible. It was found, after the battle, buried un⯑der a mountain of the dead, and was nailed to a croſs, by way of infamy, by the brutal victor. Of all the train two only eſcaped, whoſe names were Ariſtodemus and Panites. The latter was treated with ſuch contempt on his return to Sparta, that he killed himſelf in deſpair. Ariſtodemus recovered his loſt honour by his gallant behaviour at the battle of Plataea. The loſs of the Perſians on this occaſion is ſuppoſed to have amounted to twenty thouſand men, among which were two of the king's brothers.

[41]The very day on which the battle of Thermo⯑pylae was fought, there was a naval engagement be⯑tween the fleets of Greece and Perſia, in which the former took or ſunk thirty of the enemy's ſhips, and forced a hundred and ſeventy of them to ſea, where, by ſtreſs of weather, they were all ſoon after either ſunk or ſtranded.

Xerxes, however, having now paſſed the ſtraits, found nothing capable of oppoſing his progreſs in the open country, and he therefore directed his march towards Athens, on which he was determined to take a ſignal vengeance. Themiſtocles, ſeeing the impoſſibility of defending this place, uſed all his eloquence and addreſs in perſuading his countrymen to abandon it for the preſent; and this he was at laſt able, though with no little difficulty, to effect. A decree was therefore paſſed, by which it was or⯑dained, that Athens for awhile ſhould be given up in truſt to the Gods, and that all the inhabitants, whether in freedom or ſlavery, ſhould go on board the fleet. The young and adventurous ſet ſail for Salamis; the old, the women, and children took ſhelter at Trezene, the inhabitants of which gene⯑rouſly offered them an aſylum. But in this general deſertion of the city, that which raiſed the com⯑paſſion of all was, the great number of old men they were obliged to leave in the place, on account of their age and infirmities. Many alſo voluntarily remained behind, believing that the citadel, which they had fortified with wooden walls, was what the oracle pointed out for general ſafety. To heighten this ſcene of diſtreſs, the matrons were ſeen cling⯑ [...]ng with fond affection to the places where they had [...]o long reſided; the women filled the ſtreets with [...]amentations, and even the poor domeſtic animals [...]eemed to take a part in the general concern. It was impoſſible to ſee theſe poor creatures run howl⯑ [...]ng and crying after their maſters, who were going [42] on ſhipboard, without being ſtrongly affected. Among theſe the faithfulneſs of a particular dog is recorded, who jumped into the ſea after his maſter, and continued ſwimming as near as he could to the veſſel, till he landed at Salamis, and died the mo⯑ment after upon the ſhore.

Thoſe few inhabitants that remained behind re⯑tired into the citadel, where, literally interpreting the oracle, they fortified it as well as they could, and patiently awaited the approach of the invader. Nor was it long before they ſaw him arrive at their gates, and ſummon them to ſurrender. This, how⯑ever, they refuſed to do, or even to liſten to any terms he propoſed to them. The place was there⯑fore taken by aſſault; all who were found in it were put to the ſword, and the citadel was reduced to aſhes.

But though the confederates had been thus obliged to abandon Athens to the fury of the enemy, they were by no means diſpoſed to let them over-run the whole country. They took poſſeſſion of Peloponne⯑ſus, built a wall acroſs the iſthmus that joined it to the continent, and committed the defence of that important poſt to Cleombrotus, the brother of Leonidas. In adopting this meaſure they were all of them unanimous, as being the moſt prudent that could be embraced. The caſe was not the ſame with regard to the operations of the fleet. Eury⯑biades was for bringing it into the neighbourhood of the iſthmus, that ſo the ſea and land forces might act in conjunction. Themiſtocles was of a quite different opinion, and maintained, that it would be the height of folly to abandon ſo advantageous a poſt as that of Salamis, where they were now ſta⯑tioned. They were now, he ſaid, in poſſeſſion of the narrow ſeas, where the number of the enemy's ſhips could never avail them; that the only hope now left the Athenians was their fleet, and that [43] this muſt not capriciouſly be given up by ignorance to the enemy. Eurybiades, who conſidered him⯑ſelf as glanced at, could not contain his reſentment, but was going to ſtrike Themiſtocles for his inſo⯑lence. ‘"Strike me," cried the Athenian, "ſtrike me, but hear me."’ His moderation, and his rea⯑ſoning prevailed; and it was therefore reſolved to await the enemy's fleet at Salamis. Fearful, how⯑ever, that the confederates might change their mind, Themiſtocles had recourſe to one of thoſe ſtrata⯑gems which mark ſuperior genius. He contrived to have it privately intimated to Xerxes that the confederates were now aſſembled at Salamis, pre⯑paring for flight, and that it would be an eaſy mat⯑ter to attack and deſtroy them. The artifice ſuc⯑ceeded. Xerxes gave orders to his fleet to block up Salamis by night, in order to prevent an eſcape, that would have baffled his views of vengeance.

Even Themiſtocles himſelf was not ſenſible, for ſome time, of the ſucceſs of his ſcheme, and of his ſeemingly dangerous ſituation. Ariſtides, who then commanded a ſmall body of troops at Egina, no ſooner heard it, than, ignorant of the real cauſe of all theſe manoeuvres, and actually thinking Themiſ⯑tocles in danger, he ventured in a ſmall boat by night through the whole fleet of the enemy. Upon landing he made up to the tent of Themiſtocles, and addreſſed him in the following manner: ‘"If we are wiſe, Themiſtocles, we ſhall henceforth lay aſide all thoſe frivolous and puerile diſſenſions which have hitherto divided us. One ſtrife, and a noble one it is, now remains for us, which of us ſhall be moſt ſerviceable to our country. It is your's to command as a general; it is mine to obey as a ſubject; and happy ſhall I be, if my advice can any way contri⯑bute to your and my country's glory."’ He then informed him of the fleet's real ſituation, and warm⯑ly exhorted him to give battle without delay. [44] Themiſtocles felt all that gratitude, which ſo ge⯑nerous and diſintereſted a conduct deſerved; and eager to make a proper return, he immediately let him into all his ſchemes and projects, particularly this laſt, of ſuffering himſelf to be blocked up. After this they exerted their joint influence with the other commanders to perſuade them to engage; and accordingly both fleets prepared themſelves for battle.

The Grecian fleet conſiſted of three hundred and eighty ſhips, the Perſian fleet was much more nu⯑merous. But whatever advantage they had in numbers, and the ſize of their ſhips, they fell in⯑finitely ſhort of the Greeks in their naval ſkill, and their acquaintance with the ſeas where they fought; but it was chiefly on the ſuperior abilities of their commanders that the Greeks placed their hopes of ſucceſs. Eurybiades had nominally the command of the fleet, but Themiſtocles directed all its operations. He knowing that a periodical wind, which would be favourable, would ſoon ſet in, de⯑layed the attack till that time; and this had no ſooner ariſen, than the ſignal was given for battle, and the Grecian fleet ſailed forward in exact order.

As the Perſians now fought under the eye of their ſovereign, who beheld the action from a neighbour⯑ing promontory, they exerted themſelves for ſome time with great ſpirit; but their courage abated when they came to a cloſer engagement. The nu⯑merous diſadvantages of their circumſtances and ſi⯑tuation then began to appear. The wind blew direct⯑ly in their faces; the height and heavineſs of their veſſels rendered them unwieldy and uſeleſs; and even the number of their ſhips in the narrow ſea only ſerved to embarraſs and perplex them. The Ionians were the firſt that fled; the Phoenicians and Cyprians were ſoon after driven on ſhore; and [45] in a little time their whole fleet was thrown into confuſion. In the general conſternation which this occaſioned, Artemiſia, queen of Halicarnaſſus, who had come to the aſſiſtance of Xerxes with five ſhips, exerted herſelf with ſo much ſpirit, that that mo⯑narch was heard to ſay, that his ſoldiers behaved like women in the conflict, and the women like ſoldiers. Nothing, however, could repair the diſorder that had now taken place in the Perſian fleet. They inſtantly fled on all ſides; ſome of them were ſunk, and more taken; above two hundred were burnt, and all the reſt were entirely diſperſed.

Such was the iſſue of the battle of Salamis, in which the Perſians received a more ſevere blow than any they had hitherto experienced from Greece. Themiſtocles is ſaid to have been ſo elated with this victory, that he propoſed breaking down the bridge on the Helleſpont, and thus cutting off the retreat of the enemy; but from this he was diſſuaded by Ariſtides, who repreſented the great danger of re⯑ducing ſo powerful an army to deſpair. Xerxes, however, ſeems to have been ſo apprehenſive of ſome ſuch ſtep being taken, that, after leaving about three hundred thouſand of his beſt troops behind him under Mardonius, not ſo much with a view of conquering Greece, as in order to prevent a purſuit, he haſtened back with the reſt to the Helleſpont, where finding the bridge broken down by the vio⯑lence of the waves, he was obliged to paſs over in a ſmall boat; and this manner of leaving Europe, when compared to his oſtentatious method of enter⯑ing it, rendered his diſgrace the more poignant and afflicting.

CHAP. VI. FROM THE RETREAT OF XERXES OUT OF GREECE, TO THE BATTLE OF MYCALE.

A. M. 3524.NOTHING could exceed the joy of the Greeks upon the victory they had obtained at Salamis. It was a cuſtom among them, after a battle, for the commanding officers to declare who had diſtinguiſhed themſelves moſt, by writing the names of ſuch as merited the firſt and ſecond rewards. On this occaſion, each officer concerned adjudged the firſt rank to himſelf, but all allowed the ſecond to Themiſtocles, which was in fact allowing him a tacit ſuperiority. This was farther confirmed by the Lacedaemonians, who carried him in triumph to Sparta; and who having adjudged the reward of valour to their own countryman, Eurybiades, adjudged that of wiſdom to Themiſtocles. They crowned him with olive, preſented him with a rich chariot, and conducted him with three hundred horſe to the confines of their ſtate. But there was an homage paid him that flattered his pride yet more; when he appeared at the Olympic games, that is before all the ſtates of Greece aſſembled, the ſpectators received him with uncommon acclamations. As ſoon as he appeared the whole aſſembly roſe up to do him honour; no⯑body regarded either the games or the combatants; Themiſtocles was the only object worth their at⯑tention. Struck with ſuch flattering honours, he could not help crying out, that he that day reaped the fruits of all his labours.

Mardonius, having paſſed the winter in Theſſaly, led his forces in the ſpring into the province of Boeotia, and from thence ſent Alexander, king of [47] Macedonia, with very tempting propoſals to the Athenians, hoping by that means to detach them from the general intereſts of Greece. He offered to rebuild their city, to preſent them with a conſi⯑derable ſum of money, to allow them to enjoy their laws and liberties, and to beſtow upon them the government of all Greece. The Spartans were afraid that the Athenians might be apt to accept of theſe propoſals, and they therefore ſent ambaſſadors to Athens, in order to diſſuade them from ſo baſe a conduct. But Ariſtides, who was then chief Ar⯑chon of Athens, needed no other monitor than the dictates of his own heart. Receiving Alexander and the ambaſſadors at the ſame time, he addreſſed them in the following terms: ‘"For men," ſaid he, "bred up in pleaſure and ignorance, it is natu⯑ral to proffer great rewards, and to hope by bribes to undermine virtue. Barbarians, who make ſilver and gold the chief object of their eſteem, may be excuſed for thinking to corrupt the fidelity of a free people; but that the Lacedaemonians, who came to remonſtrate againſt theſe offers, ſhould ſuppoſe they could prevail, is indeed ſurpriſing. The Athenians have the common liberty of Greece en⯑truſted to their care, and mountains of gold are not able to ſhake their fidelity. No, ſo long as that [...]un, which the Perſians adore, continues to ſhine with wonted ſplendor, ſo long ſhall the Athenians be mortal enemies to the Perſians; ſo long ſhall they continue to purſue them for ravaging their [...]ands, for burning their houſes, and polluting their temples.—Such is the anſwer we return to the Per⯑ſian propoſal.—And you," continued he, addreſſing himſelf to Alexander, "if you are really their friend, refrain for the future from being the bearer of ſuch propoſals; your honour, and perhaps even your ſafety demands it."’

[48]Mardonius, provoked at the rejection of hi [...] offers, invaded Attica, which the Athenians, unabl [...] to reſiſt the torrent, were once more obliged to abandon to his fury. Nothing, however, could reconcile that people to any terms of accommoda⯑tion. They even ſtoned Lycidas, a ſenator, to death, for propoſing a ſubmiſſion; and his wife and children met with the ſame fate from the women▪ In the mean time the Spartans were in danger of falling into the ſame error from which they had been ſo anxious to preſerve the Athenians, I mean that of conſulting their own private ſafety, without regarding the general intereſts of Greece. They propoſed to fortify the iſthmus of Peloponneſus. But the Athenians remonſtrating againſt ſo partial and ungenerous a proceeding, the Spartans readily gave up the point.

The Grecian army was now aſſembled to the number of ſeventy thouſand men. Of theſe five thouſand were Spartans, attended by thirty-five thou⯑ſand Helots. The Athenians amounted to eight thouſand, and the troops of the allies made up the reſt. With this army the Greeks reſolved to oppoſe Mardonius, though at the head of no leſs than three hundred thouſand men. That general, fearing to be attacked in the hilly country of Attica, where he could not avail himſelf of his great ſuperiority of numbers, had lately returned into Boeotia, and en⯑camped his troops on the banks of the river Aſopus. Thither he was purſued by the Grecians; but as nei⯑ther ſide could begin the attack without encounter⯑ing great diſadvantages, the two armies continued in ſight of each other for the ſpace of ten days, both of them equally eager for a battle, and yet both afraid to ſtrike the firſt blow.

It was during this interval that a mutiny had like to have ariſen in the Grecian army about the poſt of honour. All parties allowed the Spartans [49] [...]he command of the right wing; but the Tegaeans [...]lledged that they were better entitled, by their paſt [...]ervices, to the command of the left, than the Athe⯑ [...]ians, who now occupied it. This diſſenſion might [...]ave produced very fatal effects, had it not been for [...]he moderation and magnanimity of Ariſtides, who [...]ommanded the Athenians, and who addreſſed him⯑ [...]lf to the Spartans and the reſt of the confederates [...]n the following manner: ‘"It is not now a time, my friends, to diſpute about the merit of paſt ſer⯑ [...]ioes; for all boaſting is vain in the day of danger. [...]et it be the brave man's pride to own, that it is [...]ot the poſt or ſtation which gives courage, or which can take it away. I head the Athenians; whatever poſt you ſhall aſſign us, we will maintain [...], and will endeavour to make our ſtation, wherever [...]e are placed, the poſt of true honour and military [...]ory. We are come hither not to contend with [...]ur friends, but to fight with our enemies; not to [...]oaſt of our anceſtors, but to imitate them. This [...]attle will diſtinguiſh the merit of each city, each [...]ommander, and the loweſt ſentinel will ſhare the [...]onour of the day."’ This ſpeech determined the [...]ouncil of war in favour of the Athenians, who [...]ereupon were allowed to maintain their former [...]ation.

Meanwhile the Grecians, beginning to be [...]raitened for want of water, reſolved to retreat to a [...]ace where they might be more plentifully ſupplied [...]ith that neceſſary article. As their removal was [...]ade in the night, much diſorder enſued; and in [...]e morning, Mardonius conſtruing their retreat [...]to a flight, immediately purſued them, and com⯑ [...]g up with them near the little city of Plataea, he [...]tacked them with great impetuoſity. His ardour, [...]owever, was ſoon checked by the Spartans, who [...]ought up the rear of the Grecian army, and who, [...]rowing themſelves into a phalanx, ſtood impene⯑trable [50] and immoveable to all the aſſaults of the enemy. At the ſame time, the Athenians being in⯑formed of the attack, quickly turned back, and, after defeating a body of Greeks in Perſian pay, they came to the aſſiſtance of the Spartans, juſt as theſe laſt had completed the overthrow of the enemy. For Mardonius, enraged at ſeeing his men give way, ruſhed into the thickeſt of the ranks, in order to reſtore the battle; and while he was doing ſo, he was killed by Aimneſtus, a Spartan. Upon this the whole army betook themſelves to flight. Artabazis, with a body of forty thouſand men, fled towards the Helleſpont; the reſt retreated to their camp, and there endeavoured to defend themſelves with wooden ramparts. But theſe being quickly broken down, the confederates ruſhed in upon them with irreſiſtible fury; and eager to rid their coun⯑try of ſuch terrible invaders, they ſternly refuſed them all quarter, and put upwards of a hundred thouſand of them to the ſword. Thus ended the invaſion of the Perſians into Greece; nor ever after was an army from Perſia ſeen to croſs the Helle⯑ſpont. We have already obſerved, that Ariſtides commanded the Athenians in this important action. The Spartans were headed by Cleombrotus, and Pauſanias, a Lacedaemonian, was the chief com⯑mander.

The battle was no ſooner over, than the Greeks, to teſtify their gratitude to heaven, cauſed a ſtatue of Jupiter to be m [...]d [...] at the public expence, and placed it in his t [...]mple at Olympia. On the right ſide of the pedeſ [...]l were engraved the names of the ſeveral nations of Greece that were preſent in the engagement. The Spartans had the firſt place, the Athenians the ſecond, and all the reſt ſucceeded in order.

The ſucceſſes of the Greeks were as rapid as they were important. On the very evening of the day, [51] on which the victory at Plataea was won, another, equally glorious, was obtained at Mycale on the coaſt of Ionia. After the defeat at Salamis, the re⯑mains of the Perſian fleet retired to Samos; but the Greeks were not long in purſuing them. The con⯑federates, on this occaſion, were headed by Leo⯑cychides, the Spartan, and Xanthippus, the Athenian. The Perſians were no ſooner informed of their ap⯑proach, than, conſcious of their own inferiority by ſea, they drew up their ſhips upon dry land at My⯑ [...]ale, and fortified them with a wall and a deep [...]rench, while they were at the ſame time protected by an army of ſixty thouſand men, under the com⯑mand of Tigranes. But nothing could ſecure them from the fury of the Grecians, who immediately [...]oming on ſhore, and dividing themſelves into two [...]odies, the Athenians and Corinthians advanced di⯑ [...]ectly on the plain, while the Lacedaemonians fetch⯑ [...]d a compaſs over hills and precipices, in order to [...]ake poſſeſſion of a riſing ground. But before theſe [...]t arrived, the former had entirely put the enemy [...]o flight; and now being joined by the Spartans, [...]hey ſoon forced their way through the Perſian ram⯑ [...]arts, and set all their ſhips on fire; ſo that nothing [...]ould be more complete than the victory now ob⯑ [...]i [...]ed. Tigranes, the Perſian general, with forty [...]houſand of his men, lay dead upon the field of [...]a [...]ie; the fleet was deſtroyed; and of the great [...]my which Xerxes brought into Europe, ſcarce a [...]ng [...]e man remained to carry back to him the news [...]f its defeat.

CHAP. VII. FROM THE VICTORY AT MYCALE, TO THE PEACE CONCLUDED BETWEEN THE GREEKS AND PERSIANS.

A. M. 3526.NO ſooner were the Greeks freed from the apprehenſions of a fo⯑reign foe, than they began to entertain jealouſies of each other; and the firſt ſymptoms of this dange⯑rous ſpirit appeared in a miſunderſtanding that took place between the Athenians and Spartans. The former, with their families, being returned to their own country, began to think of rebuilding the city; and as its late ſtate of weakneſs had rendered it ſo eaſy a prey to the Perſians, they now formed a plan for ſtrengthening and extending the walls, and giv⯑ing it, for the future, a greater degree of ſecurity. This excited the jealouſy of the Lacedaemonians, who could not bear to ſee any of the other ſtates of Greece upon an equal footing with themſelves. They therefore ſent ambaſſadors to diſſuade the Athenians from this undertaking; but being aſhamed to avow thei [...] real motive, they alledged the great detriment which theſe fortifications would be of to the general intereſts of Greece, if ever they ſhould fall into the hands of the enemy. Themiſtocles, who then guided all the councils of Athens, at once ſaw through their deſign, and reſolved to meet their duplicity with equal diſſimulation. He therefore told them that the Athenians would ſoon ſend an embaſſy to Sparta, and fully ſatisfy all their ſcruples; and having procured himſelf to be choſen for this purpoſe, he accordingly went thither, and by ſtu⯑died delays kept the Spartans in ſuſpence until the works were completely finiſhed. He then boldly [53] threw off the maſk, and declared that Athens was now in a condition to keep out any enemy, either foreign or domeſtic; and that what ſhe had done was perfectly conſiſtent with the laws of nations, and the common intereſts of Greece. He further added, that if any violence were offered to his per⯑ſon, the Athenians would retaliate upon the Spartan ambaſſadors, who were now in their hands; in con⯑ſequence of which the ambaſſadors on both ſides were ſuffered quietly [...] depart, and Themiſtocles, upon his arrival in [...]ns, was received as if he had been returning from a triumph.

Encouraged by his ſucceſs in this undertaking, Themiſtocles projected another ſcheme, far leſs juſ⯑tifiable indeed, for increaſing the power and impor⯑tance of his country. This ſcheme, however, he declared in a full aſſembly of the people, would not admit of being publicly mentioned, as its execution required ſecrecy and diſpatch. He therefore begged that ſome perſon might be appointed, to whom he might communicate his deſign, one who was quali⯑fied to judge at once of the utility and the practi⯑cability of the project. Ariſtides was pitched upon for this purpoſe. To him Themiſtocles privately ſignified his intention of burning the fleet belonging to the reſt of the Grecian ſtates, which then lay in a neighbouring port, and thus rendering Athens the undiſputed ſovereign of the ſea. Ariſtides, ſhocked at ſo baſe a propoſal, made no anſwer, but returning to the aſſembly, informed them, that nothing could be more advantageous to Athens than what The⯑miſtocles propoſed, but that nothing, at the ſame time, could be more unjuſt. The people, adopting the magnanimous ſentiments of their magiſtrate, unanimouſly rejected the propoſal, without knowing its contents, and beſtowed upon Ariſtides the ſur⯑name of Juſt, which he ſo well deſerved.

The confederates being thus left at liberty to turn their arms againſt their foreign foes, inſtead of [54] drawing their ſwords againſt one another, fitted out a powerful fleet. Pauſanias commanded the Spar⯑tans; the Athenians were conducted by Ariſtides and Cimon, the ſon of Miltiades. They firſt di⯑rected their courſe to the iſle of Cyprus, where they ſet all the cities free. Then ſteering towards the Helleſpont, they attacked the city of Byzantium, of which they made themſelves maſters; and, beſides the vaſt quantity of plunder which they found in it, they took a great number of priſoners, many of whom were of the richeſt and moſt conſiderable fami⯑lies of Perſia.

But whatever the Greeks gained upon this occa⯑ſion in fame and authority, they loſt in the purity and ſimplicity of their manners. The deluge of wealth poured in upon them from this quarter, naturally tended to corrupt their morals; and from this time forward, neither the magiſtrates nor the people valued themſelves, as formerly, on their per⯑ſonal merit, but merely on account of their riches and poſſeſſions. The Athenians, being a polite people, bore this change for ſome time with tolera⯑ble moderation; but the contagion▪ immediately broke out among the Spartans with all its native virulence. It ſeems to have inſpired Pauſanias, who was naturally of a haughty and imperious temper, and who had forfeited the good opinion not only of the neighbouring ſtates, but alſo of his own ſubjects, with the ambitious hopes of raiſing himſelf to a ſtill higher rank than he had yet attained. He offered to deliver up Sparta, and even all Greece, to Xerxes, provided that prince would give him his daughter in marriage. How long this conſpiracy was carried on is uncertain. Pauſanias was twice t [...]ied, and twice acquitted for want of ſufficient evi⯑dence againſt him. His guilt, however, became at length too apparent to be any longer concealed; but juſt as the Ephon were upon the point of ſeizing [55] him, he took refuge in the temple of Minerva, where the ſanctity of the place preventing his being dragged forth, the people blocked up the entry with large ſtones, and tearing off the roof, left him in that manner to die of cold and hunger. This he in a little time did; and thus periſhed the man who had led on the victorious troops of Greece in the battle of Plataea.

The fate of Pauſanias ſoon after involved that of Themiſtocles, who had ſome time before been ba⯑niſhed, and lived in great eſteem at Argos. The occaſion of his baniſhment was this. He had built near his houſe a temple in honour of Diana, with this inſcription, ‘"To Diana, the goddeſs of good counſel;"’ thereby inſinuating the benefit his own counſels had been of to his country, and the little gratitude his fellow-citizens had ſhewn in rewarding them. He was now accuſed, not only of having been privy to the deſigns of Pauſanias, without re⯑vealing them to the ſtate, which part of the charge indeed ſeems to have been well founded, but like⯑wiſe of having approved and favoured thoſe de⯑ſigns, a crime, it would appear, of which he was altogether guiltleſs. The Spartans, however, who had always been his enemies, now declared them⯑ſelves his accuſers before the aſſembly of the people of Athens; and all thoſe of his countrymen, who had formerly either dreaded his power, or envied his popularity, joined in the general charge againſt him. In a word, the people were wrought up to ſuch a degree of rage, that they clamoured for his death with great vehemence; and perſons were actually ſent to ſeize and bring him before the general coun⯑cil of Greece. Fortunately, however, he had no⯑tice of their deſign, and ſaved himſelf by a precipi⯑tate flight. He firſt took refuge in the iſland of Corcyra. From thence he repaired to the court of Admetus, king of the Moloſſians; but that prince [56] not being able to afford him any long or certain protection, he at laſt went over to Sardis, where, throwing himſelf proſtrate before the Perſian mo⯑narch, he boldly declared his name, his country, and his misfortunes. ‘"I have done," cried he, "my ungrateful country ſervices more than once, and I am now come to offer thoſe ſervices to you. My life is in your hands: you may now exert your clemency, or diſplay your vengeance. By the for⯑mer you will preſerve a faithful ſuppliant; by the latter you will deſtroy the greateſt enemy of Greece."’ The king made him no anſwer at this audience, though he was ſtruck with admiration at his elo⯑quence and intrepidity; but he ſoon gave a looſe to his joy for the event. He told his courtiers, that he conſidered the arrival of Themiſtocles as a very happy incident, and wiſhed that his enemies would always purſue the ſame deſtructive policy of baniſh⯑ing from among them the good and wiſe. His joys were continued in a dream. In the night he was ſeen to ſtart from his ſleep, and three times to cry out, ‘"I have got Themiſtocles the Athenian."’ He even gave him three cities for his ſupport, and had him maintained in the utmoſt affluence and ſplendor. It is ſaid, that ſuch was his intereſt at the Perſian court, and ſo great was the eſtimation in which he was held by all ranks of people, that one day at table he was heard to cry out to his wife and children, who ſat near him, ‘"Children, we ſhould certainly have been ruined, if we had not formerly been undone."’

But nothing could eraze from the breaſt of The⯑miſtocles the love he entertained for his country. Indeed, the ſpirit of patriotiſm appears to have pre⯑vailed among the Greeks in a higher degree than ever it did among any other people. This was no doubt owing to the many violent ſtruggles they had been obliged to make in defence of their country. [57] And perhaps it will be found, that the value we ſet upon any thing, is always in proportion to the pains we have taken in acquiring or preſerving it. When Xerxes, therefore, propoſed fitting out an expedi⯑tion againſt Athens, and entruſting the command of it to Themiſtocles, that patriot, rather than carry arms againſt the place of his nativity, put an end to his own life by poiſon.

In the mean time Ariſtides, inſtead of incurring the jealouſy of his countrymen by his ambitious and intereſted views, continued every day to acquire a larger ſhare of their eſteem and veneration by his integrity and love of juſtice. So great, indeed, was his character in this reſpect, that when it was deliberated among the ſtates of Greece who was the moſt proper perſon to be intruſted with the care of the public treaſure for carrying on the war, all eyes were fixed upon him as the moſt upright man to be found in the country; and his diſcharge of this important office, to which he was immediately ap⯑pointed, only ſerved to confirm the high opinion the world already entertained of him. His merit, beſides, in this particular was ſo much the greater, as he himſelf was extremely poor; but it appeared from the following incident that he was voluntarily poor, and might have been richer, if he had choſen it. Callias, an intimate friend and relation of his, being ſummoned before the judges for ſome offence, one of the chief objections urged againſt him was, that while he rolled in affluence and luxury, he ſuf⯑fered his friend and relation, Ariſtides, to remain in poverty and want. But Callias appealing to Ariſti⯑des himſelf, it appeared that he had generouſly offer⯑ed to ſhare his fortune with him, which the other had abſolutely refuſed to accept; aſſerting, that he only might be ſaid to want, who permitted his ap⯑petites to tranſgreſs the bounds of his income; and that he who could diſpenſe with a few things, [58] thus rendered himſelf more like the gods, that want for nothing.

In this manner he lived, juſt in his public, and independent in his private capacity, and univerſally eſteemed and beloved by all that knew him. Hiſ⯑tory does not acquaint us with the time or place of his death; but it bears the moſt glorious teſti⯑mony to his character, in telling us that he who had had the abſolute diſpoſal of the public treaſures, died poor. It is even aſſerted, that he did not leave money enough behind him to defray the expence of his funeral, but that the government was obliged to bear the charge of it, and to maintain his family. His daughters were portioned, and his ſon ſubſiſted at the expence of the public; and ſome of his grand⯑children were ſupported by a penſion equal to that beſtowed upon thoſe who had been victorious at the Olympic games.

The firſt man that began to make a figure at Athens after the death of Themiſtocles and Ariſtides, was Cimon, the ſon or Miltiades. In his earlier years he had led a very diſſolute life; but Ariſtides perceiving in him, amidſt all his diſſipation, the ſeeds of many great and good qualities, adviſed him to change his conduct, and to raiſe his mind, from the purſuit of low and ignoble pleaſures, to the ambition of directing the affairs of the ſtate. He did ſo, and, in a little time, became equal to his father in courage, to Themiſtocles in ſagacity, and even not much inferior to his inſtructor himſelf in integrity. The firſt ſpecimen he gave of his mili⯑tary talents was in ſcouring the Aſiatic ſeas, and delivering all the Greek cities on the coaſts of Aſia Minor from their dependence upon the Perſian crown, and making them join in the general confe⯑deracy of Greece againſt that very power to which they had formerly acknowledged allegiance. Some of theſe, however, that were ſtrongly garriſoned by [59] Perſian troops, made a deſperate defence. The city of Eion deſerves to be particularly mentioned. Boges, the governor, reſolved either to preſerve it, or to periſh in the attempt. He accordingly de⯑fended the place with incredible fury, till finding his ſtation no longer tenable, he killed his wife and children, and laying them on a funeral pile, which he had erected for the purpoſe, he immediately ſet it on fire, and ruſhing into the midſt of the flames, in that manner expired.

While Cimon was employed in theſe operations, he received intelligence that the whole Perſian fleet was anchored at the mouth of the river Eurymidon. He accordingly ſailed thither, and purſuing the ene⯑my up the ſtream, where they endeavoured to take ſhelter, he deſtroyed all their ſhips; and his men, jumping on ſhore in purſuit of the Perſian mariners, who had abandonded their veſſels, they ſoon put them to flight, thus obtaining a complete victory both by ſea and land on the ſame occaſion. This ſevere blow at laſt compelled the Perſians to agree to a peace, the terms of which were as mortifying to them, as they were honourable to the Grecians. It was ſtipulated that the Greek cities in Aſia ſhould be left in quiet poſſeſſion of their liberty, and that neither the ſea nor land forces of Perſia ſhould approach ſo near the Grecian coaſts, as to give the leaſt occaſion for any kind of jealouſy.

The treaſures taken in this expedition Cimon laid out in beautifying his native city; and the Athenians gave examples in the art of architecture, that con⯑tinue to be admired to this very day. About the ſame time lived the poet Simonides, ſome of whoſe works ſtill remain; and theſe only leave us room to regret that the reſt are long ſince irretrievably loſt.

CHAP. VIII. FROM THE PEACE WITH PERSIA, TO THE PEACE OF NICIAS.

THOUGH Cimon was for ſome time, after the death of Ariſtides, the moſt conſiderable man at Athens, he did not remain long without a rival. He was ſoon oppoſed by Pericles, who was much younger than he, and was a man of a very different character. Pericles was deſcended from the great⯑eſt and moſt illuſtrious families of Athens: his fa⯑ther, Xanthippus, defeated the Perſians at Mycale; and his mother Agariſta was niece to Caliſthenes, who expelled the tyrants, and eſtabliſhed a popular government in Athens. In the earlier part of his life he applied himſelf with ſucceſs to all the differ⯑ent branches of philoſophy; but the chief bent of his mind was directed to the ſtudy of eloquence, in which he is ſaid to have outſhone all his contempo⯑raries. Even his great opponent, Thucydides, was often heard to ſay, that though he had frequently overthrown him, the power of his eloquence was ſuch, that the audience could never perceive him fallen. He reſembled the tyrant Piſiſtratus, not only in the ſweetneſs of his voice, but the features of his face, and his whole air and manner. To theſe na⯑tural and acquired endowments he added thoſe of fortune; he was very rich, and intimately connect⯑ed with all the moſt powerful families of the ſtate.

The eſtabliſhed reputation of Cimon, however, was for ſome time a bar to the riſe of Pericles; but as the former was generally abroad, commanding the fleets or armies of the country, and the latter was always at home, haranguing and making inte⯑reſt [61] with the people, he ſoon found means to over⯑come this obſtacle. The firſt uſe he made of his popu⯑larity was to leſſen the power, and conſequently the character of the court of Areopagus. This he did chiefly by the aſſiſtance of one Ephialtes, another popular leader, who contrived to take away the deciſion of almoſt all cauſes from that celebrated tribunal, and to bring them before the aſſembly of the people. Cimon's intereſt, however, was ſtill able to counter⯑act, and even to overpower that of Pericles in a very important queſtion. This was whether the Athe⯑nians ſhould aſſiſt the Lacedaemonians in ſuppreſſing an inſurrection of their Helots, or ſlaves, who had taken up arms to reſcue themſelves from bondage. Cimon gave his opinion in the affirmative; Pericles in the negative. But Cimon's opinion, as being the moſt generous, was for this time adopted, and he was allowed to conduct a large body of troops to Sparta, with which he effectually quelled the inſur⯑rection. But the Helots taking up arms a ſecond time, and poſſeſſing themſelves of the ſtrong fortreſs of Ithome, the Spartans were once more obliged to apply to Athens for aſſiſtance. The influence, however, of Pericles now prevailed in its turn, and all kind of aid was denied them. Thus left to finiſh the war by themſelves, they beſieged Ithome, which held out for ten years; at the end of which, how⯑ever, they made themſelves maſters of it, though they ſpared the lives of thoſe who defended it, upon condition of their leaving Peloponneſus for ever.

The conduct of the Athenians upon this occaſion, and ſome inſults they pretended to have received from the Lacedaemonians, revived a jealouſy that had long ſubſiſted between theſe rival ſtates, and which continued thenceforward to operate with greater or leſs influence, till both of them were re⯑duced to ſuch a low ebb of power, that neither of them was able to withſtand the ſlighteſt invaſion [62] from abroad. The firſt inſtance the Athenians gave of their reſentment, was to baniſh Cimon, who had been a favourer of the Spartan cauſe, for ten years, from the city. They next diſſolved their alliance with Sparta, and entered into a treaty with the Argives, the profeſſed enemies of the former. The ſlaves baniſhed from Peloponneſus were taken under the protection of Athens, and ſettled with their families at Naupactus: and all the privileges or Spartan ſubjects were demanded in behalf of thoſe Athenians that reſided in Lacedaemon. But what contributed to widen the breach ſtill more, the city of Megara, breaking off its alliance with Sparta, was protected and garriſoned by the Athenians; and thus was laid the foundation of an inveterate hatred, that terminated in the deſtruction of both theſe ſtates.

The chief motive to this inſolent and treacherous conduct of the Athenians, was the high opinion they entertained of themſelves ever ſince the battle of Plataea. That victory had raiſed them to the ſame national eminence with the Lacedaemonians. But they were nor ſatisfied with being their equals; they wanted to be their ſuperiors. They, there⯑fore, called themſelves the Protectors of Greece; they deſired that the convention of the ſtates ſhould be held at Athens, and they reſolved to declare open war againſt any power that ſhould dare to inſult them.

Exaſperated, however, as theſe two ſtates were againſt each other, they did not immediately come to rupture. They firſt endeavoured to ſtrengthen themſelves by leagues and alliances with the neigh⯑bouring ſtates. At laſt the armies of the two re⯑publics came to an engagement near Tangara; and though Cimon, forgetting the injury he had receiv⯑ed fr [...]m his country, came to its aſſiſtance, yet the Athenians ſuffered a defeat. A month or two after [63] another action happened, and the Athenians were, in their turn, victorious. The conduct of Cimon upon this occaſion re-eſtabliſhed him in the public favour; he was reſtored to his country, after a ba⯑niſhment of five years; and his rival Pericles was the firſt that propoſed the decree for his recall.

Cimon's firſt care, after his return, was to com⯑promiſe all differences between the rival ſtates; and this was ſo far outwardly effected, that a truce was concluded for the ſpace of five years. This furniſh⯑ed an opportunity for exerting the power of the ſtate upon a more diſtant enemy. A fleet of two hundred ſail was fitted out, and the command of it given to Cimon, for conquering the iſland of Cyprus. He accordingly ſailed thither, over-ran the iſland, and laid ſiege to the capital, Citium. But being ei⯑ther wounded by ſome of the defendants, or waſted by ſickneſs, he began to perceive the approaches of death. Still mindful, however, of his duty, he or⯑dered his attendants to conceal his deceaſe till their ſchemes were crowned with ſucceſs. They did ſo; and thirty days after he was dead, the army, which ſtill ſuppoſed itſelf under his command, obliged the place to ſurrender. Thus he not only died in the arms of victory, but he even gained battles by the terror of his name. In ſo great awe, indeed, did the Perſians ſtand of him, that they univerſally de⯑ſerted the ſea-coaſts, and would not come within four hundred leagues of any place where he could poſſibly be expected.

Pericles being now freed from the oppoſition of ſo powerful a rival, reſolved to complete the work of ambition he had begun; and by dividing the con⯑quered lands among the people, amuſing them with ſhows, and adorning the city with public buildings, be at laſt acquired ſuch an aſcendancy over the minds of the populace, that he may actually be ſaid to have been poſſeſſed of ſovereign power in a free ſtate. [64] The buildings, indeed, which he raiſed, have en⯑deared his memory to all the lovers of the fine arts. Some ſmall remains of them are ſtill to be ſeen; and theſe are allowed by the beſt judges to be ſo perfect in their kind, that they have never ſince been excelled, and hardly ever equalled. True it is, that, to complete theſe works, he was guilty, in ſome meaſure of injuſtice; for he applied to this pur⯑poſe part of the money that had been raiſed by the different ſtates of Greece for carrying on the war againſt Perſia: but when any of theſe ſtates com⯑plained of this embezzlement of the public treaſure, Pericles boldly replied, that the Athenians were not accountable to any for their conduct, and that they had the beſt right to the treaſures of the confederate ſtates, who took the greateſt care to defend them. He added, that it was fit that ingenious artizans ſhould have their ſhare of the public money, ſince there was ſtill enough left for carrying on the war.

Theſe arguments, however, were by no means ſufficient to ſatisfy the other ſtates of Greece, and leaſt of all the Spartans, who beheld the preſent proſperity of Athens with envy, and the inſolence of Pericles with indignation. And theſe paſſions were ſtill further inflamed by an expedition which the Athenians undertook againſt Samos, in favour of the Mileſians, who had craved their aſſiſtance. It is ſaid, that Pericles fomented this war, to pleaſe a famous courtezan named Aſpaſia, of whom he was particularly enamoured. After ſeveral ſkirmiſhes not worth mentioning, Pericles beſieged the capi⯑tal of Samos with tortoiſes and battering rams, which was the firſt time theſe military engines had been employed in ſieges. The Samians, after ſuſ⯑taining a nine months ſiege, ſurrendered. Pericles razed their walls, diſpoſſeſſed them of their ſhips, and exacted immenſe ſums for defraying the expences [65] of the war. Elated with this ſucceſs, he returned to Athens, buried all thoſe who had fallen in the moſt ſplendid manner, and pronounced their funeral oration.

Though the jealouſy and rivalſhip that ſubſiſted between Athens and Sparta was the true cauſe of the Peloponneſian war, yet neither of them was willing to avow their real motive; a petty quarrel among the inferior ſtates of Greece, their allies, furniſhed them with an oſtenſible reaſon. The Corcyreans, reſenting the conduct of the Corinthians with regard to one of their dependent colonies, named Epidamnus, took up arms to revenge the affront; but being worſted in ſome naval engage⯑ments, they had recourſe to the Athenians for ſup⯑port, who ſent them ſome naval ſuccours, which, however, were of no great ſervice. From this war aroſe another; for Potidaea, a city belonging to Athens, declaring for Corinth, theſe two ſtates im⯑mediately came to a rupture, and drawing their forces into the field near Potidaea, a battle enſued, in which the Athenians gained the victory. It was in this battle that Socrates ſaved the life of Alcibia⯑des, his pupil; and after the battle was over, pro⯑cured him the prize of valour, which he himſelf more juſtly deſerved. The city of Potidaea was ſoon after beſieged in conſequence of this victory, and the Corinthians complained to the ſtates of Greece againſt the Athenians, as having infringed the arti⯑cles of peace. The Lacedaemonians gave them an audience, and after hearing what the Athenians had to urge in reply, they came to a reſolution, that the Athenians were the aggreſſors, and ought to be re⯑duced to a ſenſe of their duty.

To give a colour of juſtice, however, to their pro⯑ceedings, they began by ſending ambaſſadors to Athens; and while they made preparations for act⯑ing with vigour, they ſtill kept up a ſhew of ſeek⯑ing [66] redreſs by treaty. They required the Athenian to expel from their city ſome perſons that had bee [...] guilty of profaning the temple of Minerva at Cey⯑lon; they demanded that the ſiege of Potidaea ſhoul [...] be raiſed, and that the Athenians ſhould ceaſe fo [...] the future to encroach upon the liberties of Greece.

Pericles now ſaw, that as he had drawn his cour⯑trymen into a war, he ought to inſpire them wit [...] courage to ſupport it. He accordingly ſhews them, that even trifles extorted from them with a air of command, were in themſelves a ſufficien [...] ground for war; that they might hope to deriv [...] conſiderable advantage from the divided councils o [...] their opponents; that they had ſhipping to invad [...] the enemy's coaſts; and that their city being wel [...] fortified, could not eaſily be taken. The people, in⯑fluenced by the force of his eloquence, naturally fon [...] of change, and unterrified by diſtant dangers, readil [...] came into his opinion; but, in order to meet th [...] duplicity of the Spartans with equal addreſs, they re⯑turned an evaſive anſwer, declaring that they wiſh⯑ed for nothing more than to ſettle all differences i [...] an amicable manner; but that, if they were attack⯑ed, they would defend themſelves with their wont⯑ed valour.

Pericles is thought to have had a perſonal inte⯑reſt in hurrying his countrymen into this unhapp [...] quarrel. He was deeply indebted to the ſtate, an [...] knew that a time of peace was the only opportunit [...] in which he could be called upon to account for hi [...] management of the public treaſure. It is ſaid th [...] Alcibiades, his nephew, ſeeing him one day ver [...] penſive, and aſking the reaſon, was anſwered, th [...] he was conſidering how to make up his accounts ‘"You had better," ſaid he, "conſider how t [...] avoid being accountable."’ Beſides this, Pericle [...] finding no happineſs in domeſtic ſociety, gave him⯑ſelf up to the allurements of his miſtreſs Aſpaſia [67] whoſe wit and vivacity had captivated all the poets and philoſophers of the age, Socrates himſelf not ex⯑cepted. She was inclined to oppoſe the Spartan ſtate; and he, in ſome meaſure, is thought to have been guided by her counſels.

A. M. 3572.A war between the two principal ſtates of Greece, naturally drew all the inferior ones into the quarrel; and theſe choſe their party, as intereſt, inclination, or ideas of juſ⯑tice led them. The majority declared in favour of the Lacedaemonians, who were conſidered as the deliverers of Greece. On their ſide were ranged the Achaians, the inhabitants of Pellene excepted, the people of Megara, Locris, Boeotia, Phocis, Ambracia, Leucadia, and Anactorium. On the ſide of Athens were the people of Chios, Leſbos, Plataea, many of the iſlands, and ſeveral maritime tributary ſtates, including thoſe of Thrace, Potidaea excepted.

The Lacedaemonians were not long in taking the field. Their army, including their allies, amounted to ſixty thouſand men, and was commanded by Archidamus, one of their kings. The forces of the Athenians were not near ſo numerous. Theſe did not exceed thirteen thouſand heavy-armed ſoldiers, ſixteen thouſand inhabitants, twelve hundred horſe, and about double that number of archers. Unable, therefore, to meet the enemy in the field, Pericles adviſed them to ſhut themſelves up in the city, which could not eaſily be ſtormed. This advice at firſt was but very ill reliſhed; but at laſt neceſſity compelled them to adopt it. Removing, therefore, all their valuable effects out of the open country, which they abandoned to the mercy of the enemy, they took refuge within their walls, where they ſeemed determined to defend themſelves to the laſt extremity. To compenſate, however, for the weakneſs of the land army, they had a great ſupe⯑riority [68] over the Spartans in their naval force. This conſiſted of three hundred ſhips, and with theſe they continually infeſted and plundered the enemy's coaſts, and raiſed contributions ſufficient for defray⯑ing the expences of the war.

In the mean time the Lacedaemonians entered the country of Attica at Oenone, and meeting with no oppoſition, marched forward to Acharne, within ſeven miles of Athens. The Athenians, enraged at the mortification to which they were now expoſed, turned the edge of their reſentment from the enemy, and directed it againſt Pericles, whom they regarded as the author of their diſgrace. They, therefore, inſiſted upon being led out into the open field, where, notwithſtanding the inferiority of their numbers, they ſaid they would boldly face the enemy. But Pericles choſe the wiſer part. He ſhut up the city gates, placed ſufficient guards at all the poſts a⯑round, ſent out parties of horſe to keep the enemy employed, and at the ſame time diſpatched a fleet of an hundred ſail to infeſt the coaſts of Peloponneſus. Theſe expedients had the deſired effect. The La⯑cedaemonians, finding the place to be altogether impregnable, gave up the ſiege, after laying waſte the country around, and inſulting the defenders by their numbers and reproaches. To revenge this in⯑jury, the Athenians, in their turn, invaded the enemy's country with their whole force, and re⯑duced Niſaea, a ſtrong ſea-port, with walls reaching as far as Megara. Elated with this ſucceſs, they expreſſed their joy, by celebrating funeral games in honour of thoſe who had fallen in battle. It was upon this occaſion that Pericles delivered his famous funeral oration, which has come down to our times, and is generally conſidered as a proof at once of his eloquence and his gratitude.

In the beginning of the next year the Lacedaemo⯑nians invaded Attica with the ſame number of forces [69] as before, and the Athenians were once more obliged to take refuge within their walls. But a more dreadful calamity, than even that of war, now began to viſit the unhappy Athenians. A plague, and one of the moſt terrible that is record⯑ed in hiſtory, now broke out among them. It is ſaid to have begun in Ethiopia, whence it deſcended into Egypt, from thence travelled into Libya and Perſia, and at laſt broke like a flood upon Athens. This peſtilence baffled the utmoſt efforts of art; the moſt robuſt conſtitutions were unable to withſtand its attacks; no ſkill could obviate, nor no remedy diſpel the infection. The inſtant a perſon was ſeized, he was ſtruck with deſpair, which quite diſ⯑abled him from attempting a cure. The humanity of friends was as fatal to themſelves, as it was uſe⯑leſs to the unhappy ſufferers. The prodigious quan⯑tity of baggage which had been removed out of the country into the city, increaſed the calamity. Moſt of the inhabitants, for want of better lodging, lived in little cottages, in which they could ſcarce breathe, while the burning heat of the ſummer inflamed the malignity of the diſtemper. They were ſeen con⯑fuſedly huddled together, the dead as well as the living; ſome crawling through the ſtreets, ſome lying along by the ſides of fountains, whither they had endeavoured to repair to quench the raging thirſt which conſumed them. Their very temples were filled with dead bodies, and every part of the city exhibited a dreadful ſcene of mortality, without the leaſt remedy for the preſent, or the leaſt hopes with regard to futurity. It ſeized the people with ſuch violence, that they fell one upon another as they paſſed along the ſtreets. It was alſo attended with ſuch uncommon peſtilential vapours, that the very beaſts and birds of prey, though periſhing with hunger round the walls of the city, would not touch the bodies of thoſe who died of it. Even thoſe who [70] recovered, received ſuch a terrible ſhock from it, as affected not only their ſenſes, but the very facul⯑ties of their mind. It effaced the memory of all the occurrences of their paſt lives, and they knew nei⯑ther themſelves not their neareſt relations. The effects of this diſeaſe are deſcribed at large by Thu⯑cydides, who was ſick of it himſelf; and he obſerves, among other things, that it introduced into the city a more licentious way of living. For the peo⯑ple at firſt had recourſe to their gods to avert this judgment; but finding they were all equally infect⯑ed, whether they worſhipped them or not, and that the diſeaſe was generally mortal, they abandoned themſelves at once to deſpair and riot; for ſince they held their lives but as it were by the day, they were reſolved to make the moſt of their time and money. The cauſe of it was generally imputed to Pericles, who, by drawing ſuch numbers into the city, was thought to have corrupted the very air. Yet, though this was raging within, and the enemy waſting the country without, he ſtill continued of the ſame mind as before, that they ought not to riſk all their fortunes on the event of a battle. In the mean time, the Lacedaemonians advancing towards the coaſt, laid waſte the whole country, and return⯑ed, after having inſulted the wretched Athenians, already thinned by peſtilence and famine.

It is not to be ſuppoſed that Pericles, the reputed author of all theſe calamities, could long eſcape the popular reſentment. In fact, he began to be as much hated by the people as ever he had been be⯑loved by them, and they had actually depoſed him from the command of the army; though, actuated by that fickleneſs for which they were remarkable, they ſoon re-inſtated him with more than former authority. But he did not live long to enjoy his honours. He was ſeized with the plague, and in a [71] [...]ittle time died of it; a man certainly poſſeſſed of many great and amiable qualities, and hardly addicted to a ſingle vice, except that of an inordinate ambition.

The moſt memorable tranſaction of the follow⯑ing years was the ſiege of Plataea, one of the moſt famous that is to be found in antiquity, on account of the vigorous efforts of both parties, but chiefly for the glorious reſiſtance made by the beſieged, and the ſtratagems they employed to elude the fury of the aſſailants. The Lacedaemonians beſieged this place in the beginning of the third campaign, and ſurrounded it with a ſtrong wall, on which to erect their battering-engines. The beſieged ſeeing the works begin to riſe round them, threw up a wooden wall upon the walls of the city, in order that they might always out-top the beſiegers. Thus both walls ſeemed to vie with each other for ſupe⯑riority, till at laſt the beſieged, without amuſing themſelves at this work any longer, built another within, in the form of a half moon, behind which they might retire in caſe their other works were forced. In the mean time the beſiegers, having mounted their engines of war, ſhook the city wall in a very terrible manner; which, though it alarm⯑ed the citizens, did not however diſcourage them; they employed every art that fortification could ſuggeſt againſt the enemy's batteries. They caught with ropes the heads of the battering-rams that were played againſt them, and deadened their force with [...]evers. The beſiegers finding their attack did not go on ſucceſsfully, and that a new wall was raiſed againſt their platform, deſpaired of being able to [...]ake the place by ſtorm; and therefore changed the [...]iege into a blockade, after having in vain attempt⯑ [...]d to ſet fire to the city, which was ſuddenly quench⯑ [...]d by a ſhower. The city was now ſurrounded by [...] brick wall, ſuddenly erected, ſtrengthened on each [...]ide by a deep ditch. The whole army was ſuc⯑ceſſively [72] engaged upon this wall, and when it was finiſhed, they left a guard over half of it, the Boeo⯑tians offering to guard the other half, while the reſt of the army returned to Sparta.

In this manner the wretched Plataeans were cooped up by a ſtrong wall, without any hopes of relief, and only awaited the mercy of the conquerors. There were now in Plataea but four hundred na⯑tives, and fourſcore Athenians, with an hundred and ten women to dreſs their victuals, and no other perſon, whether freeman or ſlave, all the reſt having been ſent to Athens before the ſiege. At laſt, the inhabitants of Plataea, having loſt all hopes of ſuc⯑cour, and being in the utmoſt want of proviſions, formed a reſolution to cut their way through the enemy. Half of them, however, ſtruck with the greatneſs of the danger, and the boldneſs of the en⯑terprize, entirely loſt courage when they came to the execution; but the reſt, who were about two hundred and twenty ſoldiers, perſiſted in their reſo⯑lution, and effected their eſcape in the following manner. Having taken the height of the wall, by counting the rows of bricks that compoſed it, and having made a ſufficient number of ladders of a proper length, they ſet out in the middle of a dark night, and during a violent ſtorm of wind and rain, ſo that it was hardly poſſible either to ſee or hear them. Having croſſed the firſt ditch, which they did with one of their legs bare, in order to prevent their ſliding in the mud, they advanced to the bottom of the wall, and fixing their ladders to it, in a place where they knew it to be unguarded, a party of them aſcended, and inſtantly made themſelves maſters of the two next towers by killing thoſe that defended them. This gave an opportunity to their comrades to follow them undiſturbed; and as ſoon as they came up on one ſide, they went down on the other, and actually croſſed the outer ditch without being [73] attacked, though not entirely without being diſco⯑vered. For while they were coming over the wall, one of them happened to throw down a tile from the parapet, which alarmed the enemy, and their whole army advanced towards the place; but the night was ſo very dark, that it was abſolutely im⯑poſſible to diſtinguiſh one object from another. Nay, before they croſſed the outer ditch, a corps de reſerve of three hundred men, that were kept for any unforeſenn accident, came up to them with lighted torches; but theſe, inſtead of diſcovering them, ſerved only to render the enemy viſible. After paſſing the ditch, they directed their courſe for ſome time towards Thebes, well knowing the ene⯑my would never purſue them that way, as not thinking it poſſible they ſhould march towards a hoſtile city; but after proceeding about ſix or ſeven ſtadia, they turned ſhort towards the mountains, and ſtruck into the road to Athens, where two hundred and twelve of them actually arrived, the reſt having returned to the city through fear, one archer ex⯑cepted, who was taken on the ſide of the outer ditch.

In the mean time, the Plataeans, who remained in the city, ſuppoſing that all their companions had been killed, becauſe thoſe who returned, to juſtify themſelves, affirmed they were, ſent a herald to de⯑mand their dead bodies; but being told the true ſtate of the affair, he withdrew. At the end of the following campaign, the Plataeans being in abſolute want of proviſions, and unable to make any farther [...]eſiſtance, ſurrendered upon condition that they [...]hould not be puniſhed till they had the benefit of a re⯑ [...]ular trial. Five commiſſioners came for this purpoſe [...]rom Sparta; and theſe, without charging them with [...]ny crime, barely aſked them whether they had done [...]ny ſervice to the Lacedaemonians and the allies in this [...]ar? The Plataeans were much ſurprized, as well [74] as puzzled at this queſtion, and knew it muſt have been ſuggeſted by the Thebans, their profeſſed ene⯑mies, who had vowed their deſtruction. They, therefore, put the Lacedaemonians in mind of the ſervices they had done to Greece in general, both at the battle of Artemiſium and that of Plataea; and particularly in Lacedaemonia, at the time of the earthquake, which was followed by the revolt of their ſlaves. The only reaſon they aſſigned for their having joined the Athenians afterwards, was to de⯑fend themſelves from the hoſtilities of the Thebans, againſt whom they had implored the aſſiſtance of the Lacedaemonians to no purpoſe. That if that was imputed to them as a crime, which was only their misfortune, it ought not, however, entirely to obliterate the memory of their former ſervices. ‘"Caſt your eyes, ſaid they, on the monuments of your anceſtors which you ſee here, to whom we annually pay all the honours which can be rendered to the manes of the dead. You thought fit to in⯑truſt their bodies with us, as we were eye-witneſſes of their bravery. And yet you will now give up their aſhes to their murderers, in abandoning us to the Thebans, who fought againſt them at the battle of Plataea. Will you enſlave a province where Greece recovered its Liberty? Will you deſtroy the temples of thoſe gods to whom you owed the vic⯑tory? On this occaſion, we may venture to ſay, our intereſt is inſeparable from your glory, and you cannot deliver up your ancient friends and benefac⯑tors to the unjuſt hatred of the Thebans, without eternal infamy to yourſelves."’ One would imagine that theſe arguments would have had a proper effect upon the Lacedaemonians; but they were biaſſed by the anſwer which the Thebans made, and which was expreſſed in the moſt haughty and bitter terms and beſides, they had brought their inſtructions from Lacedaemon. They ſtood, therefore, to their firſ [...] [75] queſtion, whether the Plataeans had done them any ſervice in this war? and making them paſs one after another, as they ſeverally anſwered no, each was immediately butchered, and not one eſcaped: about two hundred were killed in this manner; and twenty-five Athenians, who were among them, met with the ſame unhappy fate. Their wives, who had been taken priſoners, were made ſlaves. The Thebans afterwards peopled their city with exiles from Me⯑gara and Thebes, but the next year they demoliſhed it entirely. It was in this manner the Lacedaemo⯑nians, in hopes of reaping great advantages from the Thebans, ſacrificed the Plataeans to their fury, ninety-three years after their firſt alliance with the Athenians.

The Lacedaemonians, however, were not ſo elated with this ſucceſs, as to make them unwilling to agree to a peace, provided it could be obtained upon honourable terms; and ſeveral overtures for this purpoſe were made by their ambaſſadors, but with⯑out effect; for Cleon, who now guided the coun⯑cils of the Athenians, boaſted, that he would take all the Spartans in the iſland of Sphacteria within twenty days. He accordingly ſailed thither in com⯑pany with Demoſthenes, the Athenian admiral (whoſe courage and conduct his eloquent deſcen⯑dant, of the ſame name, afterwards celebrated) and having landed their troops, they attacked the enemy with great vigour, drove them from poſt to poſt, and gaining ground perpetually, at laſt forced them to the extremity of the iſland. The Lacedaemo⯑nians had ſtormed a fort that was thought inacceſ⯑ſible. There they drew up in order of battle, and facing about to that ſide where alone, they ima⯑gined, they could be attacked, they defended them⯑ſelves like ſo many lions. But a body of troops having clambered over ſome ſteep rocks, and come upon their rear, they were ſoon obliged to ſurrender [76] at diſcretion. They were carried to Athens, where they were told they ſhould be allowed to remain in ſafety till a peace was concluded, provided the La⯑cedaemonians did not invade the Athenian terri⯑tories; for in that caſe, they were informed, they ſhould all be put to death. This tended greatly to pave the way for a general pacification; as the La⯑cedaemonians were extremely deſirous of procuring the releaſe of theſe men, who were ſome of the chief of the city. The war, however, continued for two or three years longer, though without being productive of any remarkable event. The Athe⯑nians, indeed, took the iſland of Cythera; but, in their turn, were defeated by the Lacedaemonians at Dellion. At laſt both nations began to grow weary of a conteſt, that put them to ſo great an expence, without procuring them any ſolid advantage. A truce for a year was, therefore, concluded between them, which afterwards terminated in a more laſt⯑ing reconciliation. This happy event was conſi⯑derably facilitated, by the death of the two generals that commanded their armies, and who had hitherto oppoſed a peace, though from very different motives. Braſidas, the Lacedaemonian, was killed in a ſally, which he was conducting when beſieged in Amphi⯑polis; and Cleon, the Athenian, deſpiſing an enemy, to whom he knew himſelf ſuperior, was ſet upon unawares, and flying for ſafety, was killed by a ſoldier who happened to meet him. Branſidas was poſſeſſed of courage and conduct, of moderation and integrity; and his oppoſition to a peace ſeems to have proceeded merely from a true Spartan zeal for the honour of his country. Courage, indeed, ſeems to have been hereditary in his family, as it no doubt was in the whole Spartan nation: for when his mother received the news of his death, ſhe aſked the perſons who brought her the intelligence, whe⯑ther he died honourably; and when they began to [77] launch out into encomiums on his gallantry and heroiſm, and to prefer him to all the generals of his time; ‘"yes, ſaid ſhe, my ſon was a brave man, but Sparta has ſtill many citizens braver than he."’

Cleon was a man of a very different character. He was raſh, arrogant, obſtinate and contentious; and though he ſucceeded in his expedition to Sphac⯑teria, he was by no means fitted for war. He only made uſe of it as a cloak for his ill practices, and becauſe he could not carry on his other views with⯑out it. He had, indeed, a readineſs of wit, with a kind of law drollery that took with the populace, though with better judges it only paſſed for impu⯑dence and buffoonery. But what he chiefly de⯑pended upon was his eloquence; yet even this was of the noiſy and boiſterous kind, and conſiſted more in the vehemence of his utterance, and the violence of his action and geſture, than in the elegance of his ſtyle, or the ſtrength of his reaſoning.

Matters being now brought into this happy train, a peace was concluded in the tenth year of the war, between the two ſtates and their confederates, for fifty years. The chief articles of it were, that the ſorts ſhould be evacuated, and the towns and pri⯑ſoners reſtored on both ſides. This was called the Nician peace, becauſe Nicias, who was juſt the re⯑verſe of his rival, Cleon, was the chief inſtrument in effecting it. Beſides the tender concern he al⯑ways entertained for his country, he had more par⯑ticular ends in view in bringing it about. He wiſhed by this means to ſecure his reputation. For though he had ſucceeded in moſt of the expeditions in which he had been engaged, he well knew how much he owed to his good fortune and his cautious management, and he did not chuſe to riſk the fame he had already acquired, by any attempts to procure more.

CHAP. IX. FROM THE PEACE OF NICIAS, TO THE END OF THE PELOPONNESIAN WAR.

TREATIES of peace, however ſolemn or ſin⯑cere, are but feeble barriers againſt the in⯑tereſts, the inclinations, or the prejudices of rival ſtates, or even againſt the ambitious views of thoſe that have the chief direction of their councils. This was fatally experienced in the war, that, not⯑withſtanding their late agreement, ſoon after broke out between the Athenians and Spartans, not to promote the welfare, or advance the power of either people, but merely to gratify the pride and vanity of Alcibiades, who was now become the moſt popular man in Athens. Many things contributed to make him ſo. He was as remarkable for the beauty of his perſon, as the endowments of his mind. He was deſcended from one of the greateſt families in Athens; he was the richeſt man in the place; and his ſtyle and manner of living was equal to his in⯑come. Add to this, that though he was frequently drawn into irregularities by the pernicious advice of flatterers, with whom he was naturally ſur⯑rounded, and the violence of his own paſſions, which were ever in the extreme, yet he was as often recalled from theſe vicious courſes, and brought back into the paths of virtue, by the ſalutary coun⯑ſels of Socrates, for whoſe character he had con⯑ceived the higheſt regard, and to whoſe leſſons he always gave the greateſt attention.

Nor was the philoſopher leſs fond of him, that he was of the philoſopher. For perceiving in him amidſt all his irregularties, the feeds of many grea [...] and amiable quailies, he was extremely deſirou [...] [79] of cultivating theſe, and bringing them to maturity, that ſo, when he grew up, inſtead of being a curſe and diſgrace, he might prove an honour and a bleſ⯑ſing to his country. And ſo fully was he convinced of the aſcendant he had acquired over the mind of this young man, that whenever he heard he was in⯑dulging himſelf in any low or vicious pleaſures, he would purſue him as a maſter does a fugitive ſlave, and ſeverely reprimand him for his folly; and the other would liſten to him with all the ſubmiſſion of a dutiful ſon to the beſt of fathers. Hence pro⯑ceeded the inequality of his conduct, which was ſometimes agreeable to the moſt rigid rules of mo⯑rality, and at others was marked with all the extra⯑vagance of the wildeſt paſſions.

His ruling paſſion, indeed, ſeems to have been the love of power, and a deſire of ſuperiority; and of this he is ſaid to have given ſeveral ſtriking in⯑ſtances, even while a boy. One day being rather over-matched in wreſtling, and fearing to be thrown down, he got the hand of his antagoniſt in his mouth, and bit it with all his force; upon which the other let go is hold, and ſaid, ‘"Alcibiades, you bite like a woman."’—‘"No, replied he, I bite like a lion."’ At another time when he was playing in the ſtreet at ſome game of chance, a loaded cart happenend to come that way when it was his turn to throw. At firſt he called out to the driver to ſtop, becauſe he was going to throw in the road, over which the cart was to paſs. But the fellow did not ſeem to mind him, but ſtill drove on, upon which all the reſt of the boys divided and made way; but Alcibiades throwing himſelf on his face before the cart, and ſtretching out his limbs, bid the car⯑ter drive on if he would; at which the man was ſo ſtartled, that he put back his horſes, and Alcibiades was allowed to have his throw before the cart paſſed. His ambition naturally increaſed with his years, and [80] when he came to be a man, like Pompey in later times, inſtead of being able to bear a ſuperior, he could not even endure an equal. For this reaſon it was, that he ſet himſelf in oppoſition to Nicias, who was as much reſpected by his own countrymen, and much more by the Lacedaemonians, who eſteem⯑ed him for his moderation and love of juſtice. And on the ſame account, he conceived an incurable prejudice againſt the Lacedaemonians themſelves for this preference given to his rival, and did every thing in his power to excite a quarrel between them and the Athenians.

The firſt ſtep he took for this purpoſe was, to inſtigate the people of Argos to break with the Lacedaemonians; aſſuring them, that, if they did ſo, they ſhould ſoon be ſupported by the whole power of Athens; and the fact is, every thing was in a fair way for a treaty between the Athenians and Argives, when the Lacedaemonians, informed of theſe negotiations, ſent ambaſſadors to Athens, in order to remonſtrate, and inveſted them with full power to ſettle all matters in diſpute in an ami⯑cable manner. This commiſſion ſeemed to ſatisfy the council, to whom it was firſt communicated; and the people were to aſſemble the next day, to give the ambaſſadors an audience. Alcibiades, fearing that this would mar his ſchemes, had re⯑courſe to the following artifice. He contrived to have a private conference with the ambaſſadors, and perſuaded them, under colour of friendſhip, not to let the people know at firſt what full powers they poſſeſſed, but merely to intimate that they came to treat and make propoſals; for that otherwiſe the people would grow exorbitant in their demands, and endeavour to extort from them ſuch unreaſonable terms as they could not with honour conſent to. The ſtratagem ſucceeded. The ambaſſadors be⯑lieving him ſincere, withdrew their confidence from [81] Nicias, and repoſed it in him; and the next day, when the people were aſſembled, and the ambaſſadors introduced, Alcibiades, with a very obliging air, demanded of them with what powers they were come. They made anſwer, that they were not come as plenipotentiaries. Upon which he inſtant⯑ly changed his voice and countenance, and ex⯑claiming againſt them as notorious liars, bid the people take care how they tranſacted any thing with men, on whoſe veracity they could have ſo little de⯑pendence. The people diſmiſſed the ambaſſadors in a rage; and Nicias, knowing nothing of the deceit, was confounded and in diſgrace. To re⯑deem his credit, he propoſed being ſent once more to Sparta; but not being able to obtain ſuch terms as the Athenians demanded, they immediately upon his return ſtruck up a league with the Argives for an hundred years, including the Eleans and Man⯑tenaeans; which yet did not in terms cancel that with the Lacedaemonians, though it is plain, that the whole ſcope of it was levelled againſt them. Upon this new alliance Alcibiades was declared general; and though even his beſt friends could not commend the method by which he had accompliſhed his deſigns, yet it was looked upon as a great ſtroke in politics thus to divide and ſhake almoſt all Pelo⯑ponneſus, and to remove the war ſo far from the Athenian frontier, that even ſucceſs would profit the enemy but little, ſhould they be conquerors; whereas, if they were defeated, Sparta itſelf would hardly be ſafe.

The Spartans, however, were determined to cruſh the evil in the bud; and accordingly drawing [...]ut their whole force, both of citizens and ſlaves, and being joined by their allies, they encamped al⯑moſt under the walls of Argos. The Argives were not ſlow in meeting them; they immediately marched out, and offered them battle. But juſt as [82] the two armies were going to engage, a truce was concluded for four months, as a previous ſtep to⯑wards an amicable ſettlement of all differences.

The Athenians thinking they had now found the Spartans ſufficient employment by the troubles they had excited in Peloponneſus, began to extend their views to more diſtant objects, and they actually formed a deſign of adding the iſland of Sicily to their empire. The people of Egeſta ſupplied them with a plauſible pretext for executing this project. They applied to the Athenians, in quality of their allies, craving their aid againſt the inhabitants of Selinuta, who were aſſiſted by the Syracuſans. This opportunity was greedily laid hold of; but not to engage in a war without being ſure of the means of carrying it on with ſpirit, the Athenians ſent deputies to Egeſta, to inquire into the ſtate of affairs, and ſee whether there was money enough in the treaſury to defray the expence of ſo great an un⯑dertaking. The people of that city had lately bor⯑rowed from the neighbouring ſtates a great num⯑ber of gold and ſilver vaſes, of an immenſe value; and of theſe they now made a ſplendid diſplay to the Athenian deputies. Upon the return, therefore, of theſe laſt, a reſolution was immediately taken to comply with the requeſt of the Egeſtans; and Al⯑cibiades, Nicias, and Lamachus were appointed to command the fleet, with full power not only to ſuc⯑cour Egeſta, and reſtore the inhabitants of Leon⯑tium to their city, of which they had been deprived by the Syracuſans, but alſo to regulate the affairs of Sicily in ſuch a manner, as might beſt ſuit the in⯑tereſts of the republic.

Nicias was extremely uneaſy at his being ap⯑pointed to this command, partly becauſe he diſap⯑proved of the war itſelf, but chiefly becauſe he was joined in commiſſion with Alcibiades. Bu [...] the Athenians thought it neceſſary to temper th [...] [83] ardour and impetuoſity of the one with the coolneſs and deliberation of the other. Nicias, therefore, not daring to oppoſe the war openly, endeavoured to do it indirectly, by repreſenting the great number of difficulties with which it would be attended. He ſaid, that a fleet would not be ſufficient; that a land army muſt likewiſe be raiſed, and ſubſiſted at an immenſe expence; for as to the pompous promiſes made them by the Egeſtans, theſe might probably fail them at a time when they ſtood moſt in need of pecu⯑niary aid: that they ought to weigh well the great diſ⯑parity between them and the enemy, with regard to the conveniencies they would reſpectively enjoy: that the Syracuſans would be in their own country, in the midſt of powerful allies, diſpoſed by inclina⯑tion, as well as engaged by intereſt, to aſſiſt them with men, money, horſes, and proviſions; whereas the Athenians would carry on the war in a remote country, poſſeſſed by their enemies, where, in win⯑ter, news could not be brought them from home in leſs than four months; a country where all things would oppoſe the Athenians, and nothing be procured but by force of arms: that, even if the expedition ſucceeded, it would not be productive of the mighty advantages expected from it; and, if it failed, it would reflect eternal diſgrace upon the Athenian name: and that, for his own part, he was deter⯑mined not to go, unleſs he was ſupplied with every thing neceſſary for carrying on the war, as he would not depend upon the caprice or precarious promiſes of allies. This ſpeech, however, inſtead of cool⯑ing the ardour of the Athenians, as Nicias expected, ſerved only to inflame it more: and orders were immediately given for raiſing as many troops, and fitting out as many gallies as the generals thought neceſſary; and the levies accordingly were carried on in Athens, and other places, with incredible ſpirit.

[84]Before we enter upon the narration of the im⯑portant events that took place in the expedition to Sicily, it will be proper to ſay a few words re⯑ſpecting Syracuſe, the capital of that iſland. About the year of the world 2920, Corinth had acquired conſiderable reputation as a maritime power. As the improvement of navigation generally leads to diſcovery, ſo it leads to commerce alſo, and to colonization. It had this effect on the Corinthians. They had not been long acquainted with Sicily, before they projected the ſcheme of peopling part of it with the natives of Peloponneſus. Ar⯑chias, therefore, a deſcendant of Hercules, was ſent thither with a fleet, furniſhed with every thing neceſſary for ſuch an enterprize. He built and peopled Syracuſe, which, from the peculiar advan⯑tages it derived from its rich ſoil and capacious har⯑bour, ſoon became the moſt flouriſhing city in Sicily: in ſize, indeed, and beauty, it yielded not to any city in Greece. It was long ſubject to Corinth, and governed by nearly the ſame laws. But as it in⯑creaſed in power, it aimed at independence, and by degrees renounced its allegiance to Corinth. To its emancipation are owing the occurrences which we are now to recite.

The levies being by this time completed, the generals reſolved to ſet ſail immediately, after hav⯑ing appointed Corcyra as the place of rendezvous for moſt of the allies, and ſuch ſhips as were to carry the proviſions and warlike ſtores. All the citizens, as well as foreigners, in Athens, flocked by day⯑break to the port of Pyraeus, in order to behold this magnificent ſight. It was, indeed, a ſpectacle well worth their curioſity; for neither Athens, nor any other city had ever fitted out ſuch a grand and gal⯑lant fleet as the preſent. True it is, that thoſe which had been ſent againſt Epidaurus and Potidaea, were as conſiderable with reſpect to the number of [85] ſoldiers and ſhips; but then they were not equipped with ſo much magnificence, neither was their voyage ſo long, nor the enterprize ſo important. The city had furniſhed an hundred empty gallies, that is, threeſcore light ones, and forty to tranſport the heavy-armed ſoldiers. Every mariner received daily a drachma, or ten pence Engliſh, for his pay, excluſive of what the captains of ſhips gave the rowers of the firſt bench. When the ſhips were loaded, and the troops got on board, the trumpet ſounded, and ſolemn prayers were offered up for the ſucceſs of the expediton. Gold and ſilver cups were filling every where with wine, and the accuſ⯑tomed libations were poured out; the people, who lined the ſhore, ſhouting at the ſame time, and lift⯑ing up their hands to heaven, to wiſh their fellow-citizens a good voyage and ſucceſs. And now the hymn being ſung, and the ceremonies ended, the ſhips ſailed one after another out of the harbour, after which they ſtrove to outſail one another, till they all arrived at Aegina. From thence they made to Corcyra; where the army of the allies was aſſem⯑bled with the reſt of the fleet.

Upon their arrival at Sicily, the generals were divided in their opinions with regard to the place where they ſhould make a deſcent. Lamachus was for ſailing directly to Syracuſe, and attacking the town, before the inhabitants had time to recover from their firſt conſternation. But his propoſal was rejected, and it was thought more expedient to reduce the ſmaller cities firſt. Detaching, therefore, ten gallies to take a view of the harbour and ſitua⯑tion of Syracuſe, they landed with the reſt of their forces, and ſurprized Catana.

In the mean time, the enemies of Alcibiades took advantage of his abſence to traduce his cha⯑racter, which, indeed, was ſufficiently open to at⯑tack. They accuſed him of having neglected the [86] proper method of invading Sicily, and they further charged him with impiety in profaning the myſte⯑ries of Ceres. This was ſufficient to induce the giddy multitude to recal their general; but for fear of exciting a tumult in the army, they only ſent him orders to return to Athens, that ſo he might pacify the people by his preſence. Alcibiades pre⯑tended to obey the order with great ſubmiſſion; but reflecting on the inconſtancy and caprice of his judges, he no ſooner reached Thurium than he diſappeared, and the galley, therefore, returned without him. For this act of contumacy he was condemned to death, his whole eſtate was confiſ⯑cated, and all the orders of religion were com⯑manded to curſe him. Some time after upon news being brought him that the Athenians had con⯑demned him to death, ‘"I hope one day, ſaid he, to make them ſenſible that I am ſtill alive."’

The Syracuſans had by this time put themſelves in a poſture of defence, and finding that Nicias did not advance towards them, they talked of attacking him in his camp; and ſome of them aſked, in a ſcoffing way, whether he was come into Sicily to ſettle at Catana? He was rouzed by this inſult, and determined to ſhew them that he was deficient neither in courage nor conduct. He was afraid, however, of attacking the place by land for want of cavalry; and it was almoſt equally hazardous to make a deſcent by ſea: nevertheleſs, he choſe the latter method, and ſucceeded in it by a ſtratagem. He had gained a citizen of Catana to go as a de⯑ſerter to the Syracuſans, and to inform them, that the Athenians lay every night in the town without their arms; and that early in the morning, on a certain day appointed, they might ſurprize them, ſeize on their camp with all their arms and bag⯑gage, burn their fleet in the harbour, and deſtroy their whole army. The Syracuſans gave credit to [87] this intelligence, and marched with all their forces towards Catana, which Nicias was no ſooner in⯑formed of, than he embarked his troops, and ſteer⯑ing away for Syracuſe, landed them there the next morning, and fortified himſelf in the outſkirts of the town. The Syracuſans were ſo provoked at this trick being put upon them, that they immedi⯑ately returned to Syracuſe, and preſented themſelves without the walls in order of battle. Nicias marched out of his trenches to meet them, and a very ſharp action enſued, in which the Athenians, at length, got the better, and forced the enemy back to the city, after having killed two hundred and ſixty of them and their allies, with the loſs of fifty of their own men. They were not, however, yet in a condition to attack the city, and they, therefore, took up their winter quarters at Naxus and Catana.

Next ſpring, having received a ſupply of horſe from Athens, together with proviſions and other warlike ſtores, Nicias reſolved to block up the place both by ſea and land. The firſt thing he did for this purpoſe was to take poſſeſſion of Epipolae, a high hill which commanded the city, and could only be aſcended by one very ſteep and craggy paſſage. The Syracuſans were ſo ſenſible of the importance of this poſt, that they did every thing in their power to prevent his ſeizing it; but Nicias landed his troops ſo ſecretly and ſo ſuddenly, that he made himſelf maſter of it before they were aware. He even repulſed a body of ſeven hundred men who were coming to diſlodge him, having killed three hundred of them together with their leader. Here he built a fort, and began to inveſt the town in ſuch a manner, as to cut off all communication between it and the country. In the courſe of this work ſeveral ſkirmiſhes happened, in one of which Lamachus was ſlain, ſo that the ſole command [88] now devolved upon Nicias. The Syracuſans made another attempt to regain this poſt. Nicias was then ſick in the fort, and in bed, with only his ſer⯑vants about him. But when he found the enemy were forcing his intrenchments, he got up, and ſet fire to the engines, and other wood that lay ſcat⯑tered about the ſort; which had ſo good an effect, that it ſerved as a ſignal to his own troops to come up to his relief; and ſo terrified and confounded thoſe of the enemy, that they retreated into the city.

From this time Nicias began to conceive great hopes of taking the place, the rather as ſeveral of the other cities of Sicily came over to his intereſt, and ſupplied his troops with all kinds of proviſions. The Syracuſans, on their ſide, ſeeing themſelves blocked up both by ſea and land, and deſpairing of being able to hold out much longer, were already beginning to think of a ſurrender. Nay, they had actually ſummoned a council to ſettle the terms of a capitulation, when, to their great joy and ſur⯑prize, becauſe contrary to their expectation, they ſaw Gylippus, the Lacedaemonian general, arrive with a force, that ſoon relieved them from all their fears, and in a little time reduced the Athenians to a more deplorable ſituation than that in which they themſelves were now placed. Gylippus, conſcious of his own ſtrength, and perhaps a little actuated by Spartan pride, ſent a herald to the Athenians to acquaint them, that he would allow them five days to leave Sicily. Nicias did not deign to give any anſwer to this propoſal, and both ſides therefore prepared themſelves for battle.

In the firſt engagement the Spartans were de⯑feated, chiefly on account of the narrowneſs of ground where they fought, which was between the two walls, which the Athenians had raiſed to inveſt the city; and as this prevented Gylippus from ex⯑tending [89] his lines, or making uſe of his horſe, the Athenians got the better. Gylippus, however, had the magnanimity, or rather indeed good policy, to take the whole blame of the miſcarriage upon him⯑ſelf. He declared, that he, and not his men were in fault; and that he would ſoon give them an op⯑portunity of recovering his honour and their own; and accordingly the very next day attacking the enemy in a more advantageous ſpot, he obtained over them a more complete victory than they had done over him: ſo much does the event of a battle depend upon the nature of the ground where it is fought.

Nicias being by this means obliged to act upon the defenſive, took poſſeſſion of Plemmyrium near the great harbour, where he built three forts, and almoſt ſhut himſelf up in garriſon. Beſides, the Lacedaemonians were now conſiderably ſtrengthened by a reinforcement they received from Corinth. In this ſtate of affairs, Nicias wrote home a moſt melancholy account of his preſent ſituation. He told his countrymen, that, inſtead of beſieging the Syracuſans, he himſelf was now beſieged by them and their allies: that the towns revolted from him, the ſlaves and mercenaries deſerted, and his troops were employed in guarding the forts and bringing in proviſions, in which laſt ſervice many of them were cut off by the enemy's horſe. He added, that unleſs a reinforcement was ſent him, equal to that with which he had originally ſet out, it was in vain to think of attempting any thing farther: and, in any event, he begged, that he himſelf might be recalled, as his health was ſo much impaired as to render him incapable of going on with the ſervice. This laſt part of his requeſt, however, the Athenians would by no means con⯑ſent to: but they reſolved to ſend out Eurymedon and Demoſthenes with freſh ſupplies; the former [90] immediately with ten gallies, and the other early in the ſpring with a ſtronger force. At the ſame time they appointed Menander and Euthydemus as aſſiſt⯑ants to Nicias; and theſe immediately joined him.

But Gylippus was determined to be beforehand with the Athenians, and to cruſh, if poſſible, the force they now had in Sicily, before the ſuccours ſhould arrive. For this purpoſe he perſuaded the Syracuſans to hazard a battle by ſea, while he ſhould endeavour to ſtorm the forts of Plemmyrium. The former part of the ſcheme failed; the latter ſuc⯑ceeded. The Athenians had only ſixty ſhips to oppoſe to eighty of the Syracuſans; but as they were greatly ſuperior to them in naval ſkill, they at laſt got the better, though victory ſeemed at firſt to incline to the ſide of the enemy. The Athe⯑nians loſt three ſhips in this engagement; but the Syracuſans had nine ſunk, and three taken. In the mean time, Gylippus attacking the forts at Plem⯑myrium, while many of thoſe, who defended them, were gone to the ſhore in order to view the ſea-fight, he carried the greateſt of them by ſtorm; and this ſo intimidated the garriſons of the other two, that they abandoned them in a moment.

Encouraged by this ſucceſs, he reſolved to repeat his blow before the arrival of the Athenian ſuc⯑cours. He therefore perſuaded the Syracuſans to venture another battle by ſea. They did ſo, and with a greater degree of good fortune than had at⯑tended them on the former occaſion. Nicias would willingly have declined this engagement; but he was over-ruled, or rather over-perſuaded, by his two colleagues, Menander and Euthydemus. The Athenians had ſeventy-five gallies, the Syracuſans eighty. The firſt day the two fleets continued in ſight of each other, without coming to a general engagement, and only a few ſkirmiſhes paſſed be⯑tween them. The Syracuſans did not make the [91] leaſt motion the ſecond day. But on the third they came up much ſooner than uſual, when a great part of the day was ſpent in ſkirmiſhing, after which they retired. The Athenians not imagining they would return again that day, did not keep themſelves in readineſs to receive them. But the Syracuſans hav⯑ing refreſhed themſelves in great haſte, and gone on board their gallies, attacked the Athenians un⯑awares, and in a little time threw them into irre⯑trievable confuſion. Theſe laſt, indeed, would have received a much more ſevere blow, had they not taken ſhelter behind their tranſports, which had been previouſly drawn up in a line to protect them. They loſt, however, on this occaſion ſeven gallies; and a great number of their ſoldiers were either killed or taken priſoners.

While Nicias was reflecting with grief upon his preſent unhappy ſituation, and looking forward with terror to the ſtill more melancholy proſpect that lay before him, he was relieved from all his uneaſineſs, by the arrival of Demoſthenes's fleet, which now came forward in great pomp and ſplen⯑dour. It conſiſted of ſeventy-three gallies, on board of which were five thouſand fighting men, and above three thouſand archers, ſlingers, and bowmen. This was a force, which, if properly managed, might have turned the ſcale of victory yet once more in favour of the Athenians; but, by the precipitancy of Demoſthenes, and the other ge⯑nerals, in oppoſitition to the more cautious mea⯑ſures recommended by Nicias, it only ſerved to heighten their diſgrace and the enemy's triumph.

It was reſolved, in a council of war, to attack the town immediately; and, as a previous ſtep to it, to make themſelves maſters of Epipolae. In their firſt aſſault upon this latter place, which was made by night, they ſtormed the outer entrenchment; but as they were advancing towards the ſecond, [92] they were ſuddenly attacked by the forces of the city, which had marched under arms out of their lines, and were ſupported by Gylippus. Theſe, however, being ſeized with aſtoniſhment, which the darkneſs increaſed, were ſoon put to flight; but a body of Boeotians, who followed them, made a more vigorous ſtand, and marching againſt the Athenians with their pikes preſented, repulſed them with great ſhouts, and committed a moſt dreadful ſlaughter. This ſpread an univerſal terror through the reſt of the army. Thoſe, who fled, either forced along ſuch as were advancing to their aſſiſt⯑ance, or elſe miſtaking them for enemies, turned their arms againſt them. They were now all mixed indiſcriminately, it being impoſſible, amidſt the horrors of ſo dark a night, to diſtinguiſh friend from foe; and death was frequently inflicted by that hand, from which, in the day-time, protection would have been received. The Athenians ſought for one another to no purpoſe; and from their often aſking the word, by which only they were able to know one another, a ſtrange confuſion of ſounds was heard, which occaſioned no little diſorder; not to mention that they by this means divulged their watch-word to the enemy, and could not learn theirs; becauſe, by their being together, and in a body, they had no occaſion to repeat it. In the mean time, thoſe who were purſued, threw them⯑ſelves from the top of the rocks, and many were daſhed to pieces by the fall; and as moſt of thoſe, who eſ⯑caped, ſtraggled from one another up and down the fields and woods, they were cut to pieces the next day by the enemy's horſe who purſued them. Two thouſand Athenians were ſlain in this engage⯑ment, and a great quantity of arms was taken; thoſe who fled having thrown them away, that they might be the better able to eſcape over the preci⯑pices.

[93]Thus were at once blaſted all the flattering hopes which the Athenians had conceived on the arrival of Demoſthenes; and Gylippus having ſoon after made the tour of Sicily, and brought in with him a great number of freſh troops, acquired by that means ſuch an indiſputed ſuperiority over the Athe⯑nians, that theſe laſt, convinced of their utter in⯑ability to make any further head againſt him, re⯑ſolved immediately to abandon the iſland, and re⯑turn to their own country. But juſt as they were upon the point of embarking, (wholly unſuſpected by the enemy, who never ſuppoſed they would quit the iſland ſo ſoon) the moon was ſuddenly eclipſed: and as this was a phaenomenon, with the real cauſe of which they were utterly unacquainted, they con⯑cluded it to be a prodigy or portent, and therefore dreaded the conſequences of it. It had been cuſ⯑tomary, upon former occaſions, to ſuſpend the ex⯑ecution of any enterprize for three days after ſuch an accident happened. But the ſoothſayers, being now conſulted, ſaid, that the Athenians muſt not ſail till nine times three days were paſt (theſe are Thucydides's words) which doubtleſs was a myſte⯑rious number in the opinion of the people. Nicias, ſcrupulous to a fault, and full of a miſtaken vene⯑ration for thoſe blind interpreters of the will of the gods, declared that he would wait a whole revo⯑lution of the moon, and not ſet ſail till the ſame day of the next month, as if he had not ſeen the planet ſhine with her uſual brightneſs the moment ſhe emerged from the ſhadow of the earth by which ſhe had been darkened.

The Syracuſans, however, being informed of the intended departure of the Athenians, were deter⯑mined not to let them retire in peace, and, if poſ⯑ſible, not even retire at all; but either to cut them off entirely, or oblige them to ſurrender as priſoners of war. For this purpoſe, they attacked [94] the entrenchments immediately, and gained a ſlight advantage over them. The next day they made a ſecond attack, and at the ſame time ſailed with ſeventy-ſix gallies againſt eighty-ſix of the Athe⯑nians. After an obſtinate diſpute, the Athenians were defeated with the loſs of eighteen of their ſhips, which were taken by the enemy, and their crews cut to pieces. Eurymedon too, their com⯑mander, loſt his life in the engagement.

In order to prevent their eſcaping by ſea, the enemy ſhut up the mouth of the great harbour, which was about five hundred paces wide, with gallies placed croſs-wiſe, and other veſſels, fixed with anchors and iron chains, and at the ſame time made the re⯑quiſite preparations for a battle, in caſe they ſhould have courage to engage again. The Athenians ſeeing themſelves cooped up in this manner, and having no other means of procuring proviſions but by being maſters of the ſea, were obliged to hazard another engagement upon that element. Both commanders exerted all their eloquence to animate their men, and none could be actuated by ſtronger motives than now influenced them; for upon the iſſue of the battle, which was going to be fought, depended not only their own lives and liberties, but even the fate of their native country. This battle was more obſtinate and bloody than any of the preceding ones. The Athenians being arrived at the mouth of the port, eaſily took the firſt ſhips they came to; but when they attempted to break the chain of the reſt, the enemy poured in upon them from all quarters. As near two hundred gal⯑lies came ruſhing on each ſide into a narrow place, there muſt neceſſarily be very great confuſion, and the veſſels could not eaſily advance, or retire, or turn about to renew the attack. The beaks of the gallies, for this reaſon, did little execution; but there were very furious and frequent diſcharges. [95] The Athenians were overwhelmed with a ſhower of ſtones, which always did execution from what⯑ever place they were thrown; whereas they de⯑fended themſelves only by ſhooting darts and arrows, which, by the motion of the ſhips, were diverted from their aim, and ſeldom hit the mark at which they were levelled. Ariſton, the Corinthian, had given the Syracuſans this counſel. Theſe diſ⯑charges being over, the heavy-armed ſoldiers at⯑tempted to board the enemy's ſhips, in order to fight hand to hand: and it frequently happened, that while they were climbing up one ſide of theſe, their own ſhips were entered on the other, ſo that two or three ſhips were ſometime grappled toge⯑ther, which occaſioned great confuſion. Add to this, that the noiſe of the ſhips which daſhed againſt one another, and the different cries of the victors and vanquiſhed, prevented the orders of the officers from being diſtinctly heard. The Athenians wanted to force a paſſage, whatever might be the conſequence, in order to ſecure their return to their own country; and this the enemy endeavoured to prevent, that they might thereby gain a more com⯑plete victory. The two land armies, which were drawn up on the higheſt part of the ſhore, were ſpectators of the action, while the inhabitants of the city ran to the walls in order to behold it. All theſe ſaw clearly, becauſe of their little diſtance from the fleets, every thing that paſſed, and con⯑templated the battle as from an amphitheatre, but not without great anxiety and terror. Attentive to, and ſhuddering at every movement, and the ſeveral changes of fortune that happened, they diſcovered the concern they had in the battle, their fears, their hopes, their grief, their joy, by different cries and different geſtures; ſtretching out their hands ſome⯑times towards the combatants to animate them, at other times towards heaven, to implore the ſuc⯑cour [96] and protection of the gods. At laſt the Athe⯑nian fleet, after making a long and vigorous reſiſt⯑ance, was put to flight, and driven againſt the ſhore. The Syracuſans on the walls, ſeeing their countrymen victorious, conveyed the news to the whole city by an univerſal ſhout. The victors im⯑mediately ſailed towards Syracuſe, where they erected a trophy, while the Athenians were ſo much dejected, that they did not even requeſt the dead bodies of their fellow ſoldiers to be delivered to them, in order to honour them with the rites of burial.

There now remained but two methods for them to chuſe; either to attempt the paſſage a ſecond time, for which they had ſtill ſhips and ſoldiers ſuf⯑ficient; or to abandon their fleet to the enemy, and retire by land. Demoſthenes recommended the former plan; but the ſoldiers were ſo much inti⯑midated by their late defeat, that they had not cou⯑rage to undertake it. The ſecond method was therefore adopted; and they accordingly prepared to ſet out in the night, the better to conceal their march from the enemy. Hermocrates, however, the Syracuſan general, was extremely unwilling, that ſo large a body of men (amounting to near forty thouſand) ſhould be ſuffered to depart, leſt they ſhould fortify themſelves in ſome corner of the iſland, and renew the war. At the ſame time he knew it would be impoſſible to perſuade the Syracuſans to oppoſe their march that evening, as they were then engaged in celebrating their late victory, and ſolemnizing the feſtival of Hercules. He therefore fell upon another expedient. He ſent out a few horſemen, who were to paſs for friends of the Athenians, and ordered them to tell Nicias not to retire till day-light, as the Syracuſans lay in ambuſh for him, and had ſeized on all the paſſes.

Nicias was ſo weak as to believe this intelli⯑gence, and accordingly delayed his departure not [97] only that evening but the whole next day, in order that the ſoldiers might have more time to prepare for their march, and carry off whatever might be neceſſary for their ſubſiſtence. But this delay after⯑wards proved fatal to them. For early next morn⯑ing the enemy took poſſeſſion of all the difficult avenues, fortified the banks of the rivers in thoſe parts where they were fordable, broke down the bridges, and ſpread detachments of horſe up and down the plain, ſo that there was not one place which the Athenians could paſs without fighting.

They ſet out upon their march the third day after the battle, with a deſign to retire to Catana. Their army was divided into two bodies, both drawn up in the form of a phalanx, the firſt being commanded by Nicias, and the ſecond by Demoſthenes, with the baggage in the centre. In this manner they proceeded for ſeveral days, during which they were terribly harraſſed by the enemy, who hung upon their rear, and overwhelmed them with ſhowers of darts and arrows, but never would ſtand a general engagement, when the Athenians wheeled about.

Finding, therefore, their numbers daily decreaſe, and being at the ſame time in extreme want of pro⯑viſions, they altered their plan, and, inſtead of con⯑tinuing their march to Catana, they directed their route towards Camerina and Gela. As this ſcheme was executed in the night, it was attended with ſo much confuſion, that the rear-guard under De⯑moſthenes ſoon parted from the main body, and loſt their way. Next day the Syracuſans came up with them, and ſurrounded them in a narrow place; and though they defended themſelves for ſome time with incredible bravery, yet finding it impoſſible to effect their eſcape, they were at laſt obliged to ſurrender [...]riſoners of war, which they did upon condition, [...]hat they ſhould not be put to death, nor con⯑demned [98] to perpetual impriſonment. About ſix thouſand men ſurrendered upon theſe terms.

In the mean time Nicias procceeded on his march, and croſſing the river Erineus, encamped on a mountain, where the enemy overtook him the next day, and ſummoned him to ſurrender, as Demoſthenes had done. Nicias at firſt could not believe what they told him concerning De⯑moſthenes, and therefore begged leave to ſend ſome horſe to inquire into the truth; and when he found that matters really were ſo, he offered to defray all the expences of the war, provided they would ſuffer him to quit the iſland with his forces. But this pro⯑poſal was rejected by the enemy, who immediately renewed the attack; and though Nicias defended himſelf during the whole night, and even conti⯑nued his march next day to the river Aſinarus, yet he was quickly purſued thither by the Syracuſans, who threw moſt of the Athenians into the ſtream, the reſt having already thrown themſelves into it, in order to quench their burning thirſt. Here the moſt terrible havock was committed; ſo that Nicias finding all things deſperate, was obliged to ſurren⯑der upon this ſingle condition, that Gylippus ſhould diſcontinue the fight, and ſpare the lives of his men. The lives of the men, indeed, were ſpared; but Nicias and Demoſthenes, after being ſcourged with rods, were cruelly put to death, a ſtriking proof of the barbarity of the age. By this ſavage act the Syracuſans tarniſhed the glory they had acquired by the gallant defence of their city, and the ſignal victory they had won.

It muſt be owned, indeed, that Gylippus, and even many of the Syracuſans themſelves, did all they could to ſave the lives of the Athenian gene⯑rals; but the great body of the people, egged on by their orators, and particularly by Diocles, one of their moſt popular leaders, could be ſatisfied [99] with nothing leſs than the blood of theſe two illuſtri⯑ous men. The fate of Nicias is the more to be la⯑mented, as no man was ever more remarkable for humanity and good-nature; and though he headed this expedition in obedience to the commands of his countrymen, yet he did every thing in his power to prevent them from undertaking it. Demoſt⯑henes too was a man of ſo reſpectable a character, that the famous orator of the ſame name, many years after, valued himſelf on account of his being of the ſame family.

As to the priſoners, they were ſhut up in the dungeons of Syracuſe, where many of them periſh⯑ed through want and bad treatment: and thoſe that ſurvived being afterwards ſold for ſlaves, recom⯑mended themſelves ſo ſtrongly to their maſters by their modeſt, prudent, and ingenuous behaviour, that many of them ſoon obtained their liberty; and ſome of them even owed that favour, to their being able to repeat the fineſt ſcenes of Euripides's tra⯑gedies, of which the Sicilians were paſſionately fond: ſo that when they returned to their own country, they went and ſaluted the poet as their de⯑liverer, and informed him of the great advantage they had derived from their being acquainted with his verſes.

The Athenians were ſo little prepared to receive the news of this defeat, or rather, indeed, they were ſo confident of receiving news of a contrary nature, that they condemned to death the man that firſt brought the intelligence; but when they found, that matters were really worſe than fame had reported, they were at once overwhelmed with grief and deſpair. They had never, indeed, been reduced to ſo deplorable a condition as they were now, having neither horſe, foot, money, ſhips, nor mariners: in a word, they ſunk into the deepeſt deſpondency, and expected every moment, that the [100] enemy, elate with ſo great a victory, and ſtrength⯑ened by the junction of the allies, would come and invade Athens both by ſea and land with all the forces of Peloponneſus. Cicero therefore had rea⯑ſon to ſay, when ſpeaking of the battles in the har⯑bour of Syracuſe, that it was there the troops of Athens, as well as their gallies, were ruined and ſunk, and that in this harbour the power and glory of the Athenians were miſerably ſhipwrecked.

The Athenians, however, did not ſuffer them⯑ſelves to be wholly dejected, but aſſumed courage from deſpair. They raiſed money on every ſide for building new ſhips; they retrenched all ſuperfluous expences; and they eſtabliſhed a council of old men, to examine every matter before it was brought into the aſſembly of the people. In a word, they took every ſtep that could poſſibly tend to retrieve their ruined affairs, or at leaſt prevent them from growing worſe than they were. But nothing could reſtore them to their former ſplendid condition; for from this time forward, the Athenians preſent us with a very different picture from what they have hitherto done. We are no longer to behold them making a figure in arts and arms, giving leſſons in politeneſs, humanity, philoſophy, and war, to all the nations around, and aiming at the erection of an empire, which, if once thoroughly eſtabliſhed, would have bid defiance to all the neighbouring ſtates. Inſtead of aſpiring to the conqueſt of their neighbours, they are now content with defending their own territories at home: inſtead of directing the councils, and conducing the confederate armies of Greece, they now confine all their attention to their own private affairs; they in a manner become annihilated; they fade from the eye of the hiſtorian; and other nations, whoſe names have hitherto been ſcarcely mentioned, emerge from obſcurity.

[101]It was in this deplorable ſtate of the Athenian af⯑fairs, that Alcibiades made propoſals of returning home, provided the adminiſtration of the republic were put into the hands of the great and powerful, and not left to the populace, who had expelled him. In or⯑der to induce his countrymen to agree to theſe terms, he offered to procure them not only the favour of Tiſſaphernes, the king of Perſia's lieutenant, with whom he had taken refuge, but even that of the king himſelf, upon condition they would aboliſh the democracy or popular government; becauſe the king, he ſaid, would place more confidence in the engagements of the nobility, than in thoſe of the giddy and capricious multitude. The chief man who oppoſed his return was Phrynicus, one of the generals; who, in order to accompliſh his purpoſe, ſent word to Aſtyochus, the Lacedaemonian general, that Alcibiades was uſing his utmoſt endeavours to engage Tiſſaphernes in the Athenian intereſt. He offered, further, to betray to him the whole army and navy of the Athenians. But his treaſonable practices being all detected by the good underſtanding between Alcibiades and Aſtyochus, he was ſtript of his office, and afterwards ſtabbed in the market⯑place.

In the mean time the Athenians proceeded to com⯑plete that change of government which had been propoſed to them by Alcibiades; the democracy be⯑gan to be aboliſhed in ſeveral of the ſmaller cities, and ſoon after the ſcheme was carried boldly into execution in Athens itſelf by Pyſander, who had the chief hand in this tranſaction. To give a new form to the government, he cauſed ten commiſſaries, with abſolute power, to be appointed, who were, how⯑ever, at a certain fixed time, to give the people an account of what they had done. At the expiration of that term the general aſſembly was ſummoned, in which the firſt reſolution was, that every one [102] ſhould be admitted to make ſuch propoſals as he thought fit, without being liable to any accuſation, or conſequent penalty, for infringing the law. It was afterwards decreed, that a new council ſhould be formed, with full power to adminiſter the public affairs, and to elect new magiſtrates. For this pur⯑poſe five preſidents were eſtabliſhed, who nominated one hundred perſons, including themſelves. Each of theſe choſe and aſſociated three more at his own pleaſure, which made in all four hundred, in whom an abſolute power was lodged. But to amuſe the people, and gratify them with the ſhadow of a po⯑pular government, whilſt they inſtituted a real oli⯑garchy, it was ſaid, that the four hundred would call a council of five thouſand citizens to aſſiſt them, whenever they ſhould find it neceſſary. The aſſem⯑blies of the people, indeed, were ſtill held as uſual; but nothing was done in them but by order of the four hundred. In this manner were the Athenians deprived of their liberty, after having enjoyed it almoſt a hundred years, from the time of deſtroying the tyranny of the Piſiſtratidae.

This decree having paſſed without oppoſition, after the breaking up of the aſſembly, the four hundred, armed with daggers, and attended by an hundred and twenty young men, whom they made uſe of when any emergency required it, entered the ſenate, and compelled the ſenators to retire, after having paid them the arrears of their ſalaries that were ſtill due. They elected new magiſtrates out of their own body, obſerving the uſual ceremonies upon ſuch occaſions. They did not think proper to re⯑call thoſe who had been baniſhed, leſt they ſhould authorize the return of Alcibiades, whoſe uncon⯑troulable ſpirit they dreaded, and who would ſoon have made himſelf maſter of the government. Abu⯑ſing their power in a tyrannical manner, they put ſome to death; others they baniſhed, and confiſcated [103] their eſtates with impunity. All who ventured to oppoſe this change, or even to complain of it, were butchered upon falſe pretexts, and thoſe were inti⯑midated who demanded juſtice of the murderers. The four hundred, ſoon after their eſtabliſhment, ſent ten deputies to Samos for the army's approba⯑tion of their conduct.

The army, in the mean time, which was at Samos, proteſted againſt theſe proceedings in the city; and, by the perſuaſion of Thraſybulus, recalled Alcibi⯑ades, and created him general, with full power to fa [...]l directly to the Pyraeus, and cruſh this new ty⯑ranny. Alcibiades, however, would not give way to this raſh opinion, but went firſt to ſhew himſelf to Tiſſaphernes, and let him know, that it was now in his power to treat with him, either as a friend or an enemy. By which means he awed the Athenians with Tiſſaphernes, and Tiſſaphernes with the Athe⯑nians. When, afterwards, the four hundred ſent to Samos to vindicate their proceedings, the army was for putting the meſſengers to death, and perſiſted in the deſign upon the Pyraeus; but Alcibiades, by oppoſing it, manifeſtly ſaved the commonwealth.

Mean while the innovation in Athens had occa⯑ſioned ſuch factions and tumults, that the four hun⯑dred were more intent upon providing for their own ſafety, than carrying on the war: and, the better to accompliſh this purpoſe, they fortified that part of the Pyraeus which commands the mouth of the haven, and reſolved, in caſe of extremity, rather to let in the Lacedaemonians, than expoſe their perſons to the fury of their fellow-citizens. The Spartans took occaſion, from theſe diſturbances, to hover about with forty-two gallies, under the conduct of Hegeſandrides; and the Athenians, with thirty-ſix under Timochares, were forced to engage them, but loſt part of their fleet, and the reſt were diſ⯑perſed. [104] To add to which, all Euboea, except Oreus, revolted to the Peloponneſians.

This failure of ſucceſs gave the finiſhing blow to the power of the four hundred. The Athenians, without delay, depoſed them, as the authors of all the calamities under which they groaned. Alcibiades was recalled by unanimous conſent, and earneſtly ſolicited to make all poſſible haſte to the aſſiſtance of the city. But judging that if he returned imme⯑diately to Athens, he ſhould owe his recall to the compaſſion and favour of the people, he reſolved to render his return glorious and triumphant, and to deſerve it by ſome conſiderable exploit.

For this purpoſe, leaving Samos with a ſmall number of ſhips, he cruized about the iſlands of Cos and Onidos; and having learnt that Mindarus, the Spartan admiral, had ſailed to the Helleſpont with his whole fleet, and that the Athenians were in pur⯑ſuit of him, he ſteered that way with the utmoſt ex⯑pedition to ſupport them, and arrived happily with his eighteen veſſels at the time the fleets were en⯑gaged near Abydos, in a battle which laſted till night, without any advantage on either ſide. His arrival gave new courage to the Spartans at firſt, [...]o believed he was ſtill their friend; but Alcibiades [...] out the Athenian flag in the admiral's gal⯑ [...] [...] [...]curately [...]e [...] upon them, and put them to [...]; and purſuing his blow, ſunk many of their veſſels, and made a great ſlaughter of their ſoldiers, who had leaped into the ſea, to ſave themſelves by ſwimming. The Athenians, after having captured [...] of their gallies, and retaken thoſe they had [...] erected a trophy.

Alcibiades, after this victory, went to viſit Tiſſa⯑phernes, who was ſo far from receiving him as he expected, that he immediately cauſed him to be ſeized, and ſent away to Sardis, telling him that he had orders from the king to make war upon the [105] Athenians; but the truth is, he was afraid of being accuſed to his maſter by the Peloponneſians, and thought, by this act of injuſtice, to purge himſelf from all former imputations. Alcibiades, after thirty days, made his eſcape to Clazomenae, and ſoon after bore down upon the Peloponneſian fleet, which rode at anchor before the port of Cyzicus. With twenty of his beſt ſhips he broke through the enemy, pur⯑ſued thoſe who abandoned their veſſels and fled to land, and made a great ſlaughter. The Athenians took the enemy's whole fleet, and made themſelves maſters of Cyzicus, while Mingimis, the Lacedae⯑monian general, was found among the number of the ſlain.

Alcibiades well knew how to make uſe of the ad⯑vantage he had gained; and, at the head of his vic⯑torious troops, took, ſeveral cities which had revolted from the Athenians. Calcedon, Salymbria, and Byzantium, were among the number. Thus fluſhed with ſucceſs, he ſeemed to deſire nothing more than to be once more ſeen by his countrymen, as his preſence would be a triumph to his friends, and an inſult to his enemies. He accordingly ſet ſail for Athens. Beſides the ſhips covered with bucklers and ſpoils of all ſorts, in the manner of trophies, a great number of veſſels were alſo towed after him by way of triumph: he diſplayed likewiſe the enſigns and ornaments of thoſe he had burnt, which were more than the others, the whole amounting to about two hundred ſhips.

It is ſaid, that reflecting on what had been done againſt him, upon approaching the port, he was ſtrack with ſome apprehenſions, and was afraid to quit his veſſel, till he ſaw from the deck a great number of his friends and relations, who were come to the ſhore to receive him, and earneſtly entreated him to land. As ſoon as he was landed, the multi⯑tude, who came out to meet him, fixed their eyes [106] upon him, thronged about him, ſaluted him with loud acclamations, and crowned him with garlands. He received their congratulations with great ſatisfaction; he deſired to be diſcharged from his former condem⯑nation, and obtained from the prieſts an abſolution from all their former denunciations.

Yet, notwithſtanding theſe triumphs, the real power of Athens was now no more; the ſtrength of the ſtate was gone; and even the paſſion for liberty was loſt in the common degeneracy of the times. Many of the meaner ſort of people earneſtly de⯑ſired Alcibiades to take upon him the ſovereign power, and to ſet himſelf above the reach of envy, by ſecuring all authority in his own perſon. But the great were neither ſo warm nor ſo injudicious in their expreſſions of gratitude. They contented themſelves with appointing him generaliſſimo of all their forces; they granted him whatever he de⯑manded, and gave him for colleagues the generals moſt agreeable to him. He ſet ſail accordingly with an hundred ſhips, and ſteered for the iſland of Andros that had revolted, where having defeated the inhabitants, he went from thence to Samos, intending to make that the ſeat of war. In the mean time the Lacedaemonians, alarmed at his ſuc⯑ceſs, made choice of a general every way qualified to make head againſt him. This was Lyſander, who, though born of the higheſt family, had been enured to hardſhips from his earlieſt youth, and was ſtrongly attached to the manners and diſcipline of his country. He was brave, ambitious, cir⯑cumſpect, but, at the ſame time, cunning, crafty and deceitful; and theſe latter qualities ran ſo much through his whole life, that it was uſually ſaid of him, that he cheated children with foul play, and men with oaths: and it is reported to have been a maxim of his, that when the lion's ſtrength fails, we muſt make uſe of the ſubtilty of the fox.

[107]Lyſander having brought his army to Epheſus, gave orders for aſſembling ſhips of burden from all parts, and erected a dock for the building of gal⯑lies; he made the ports free for merchants, and by encouraging trade of every kind, he laid the founda⯑tion of that ſplendour and magnificence, to which Epheſus afterwards attained. Meanwhile receiving advice that Cyrus, the king of Perſia's ſon, was ar⯑rived at Sardis, he went thither to pay him a viſit, and at the ſame time to complain to him of the conduct of Tiſſaphernes, whoſe duplicity, he ſaid, had proved fatal to their common cauſe. Cyrus was ſufficiently diſpoſed to liſten to any complaints againſt Tiſſaphernes, to whom he himſelf had a per⯑ſonal enmity, and he therefore came readily into the views of Lyſander, and at his requeſt increaſed the pay of the ſeamen. This laſt circumſtance had a ſur⯑priſing effect. It inſtantly almoſt unmanned the gallies of the Athenians, and ſupplied the Lacedae⯑monian fleet with plenty of ſailors, who, without enquiring into the juſtice of the cauſe on either ſide, went over to that party which gave the beſt pay.

Nor was this the only misfortune which the Athe⯑nians now met with. For Alcibiades being obliged to leave the fleet, in order to raiſe the ſupplies, gave the command of it to Antiochus with ſtrict orders not to attack, or engage the enemy in his abſence. But Antiochus deſirous of diſtinguiſhing himſelf by ſome great action before the return of Alcibiades, ſailed away directly for Epheſus, and uſed every art to provoke the enemy to an engage⯑ment. Lyſander at firſt contented himſelf with ſending out a few ſhips to repel his inſults; but the Athenian gallies advancing to ſupport their com⯑mander, other Lacedaemonian veſſels likewiſe came on, till at laſt both fleets arrived, and the engage⯑ment became general. After a ſharp ſtruggle, Ly⯑ſander [108] obtained the victory, having killed Antiochus, and taken fifteen of the Athenian gallies. It was in vain that Alcibiades ſoon after came up to the relief of his friends; it was in vain that he offered to renew the combat; Lyſander was too wiſe to hazard the advantage he had gained by venturing on a ſecond engagement.

This misfortune proved fatal to the reputation of Alcibiades, though indeed it was his own glory that ruined him; for the people, from his unin⯑terrupted ſucceſs, had conceived ſuch a high opi⯑nion of his abilites, that they thought it impoſſible for him to fail in any thing he ſeriouſly undertook: and they therefore now began to queſtion his in⯑tegrity, and deprived him of the command of the army.

About the ſame time Callicratidas was appointed to ſucceed Lyſander, whoſe year was expired. This man was equal to his predeceſſor in courage, and greatly ſuperior in probity and juſtice, being as open and ingenuous as the other was cunning and crafty. His firſt attempt was againſt Methymna in Leſbos, which he took by ſtorm. He then threatened Conon, who had ſucceeded Alcibiades, that he would make him leave off debauching the ſea; and accordingly ſoon after purſued him into the port of Mitylene with an hundred and ſeventy ſail, took thirty of his ſhips, and beſieged him in the town, from which he cut off all proviſions. He ſoon after took ten ſhips more out of twelve, that were coming to the relief of Conon. Then hearing that the Athenians had fitted out their whole ſtrength, conſiſting of an hundred and fifty ſail, he left fifty of his ſhips under Etonicus, to carry on the ſiege of Mitylene, and with an hundred and twenty more met the Athenians at Arginuſae, over-againſt Leſbos. His pilot adviſing him to retreat becauſe the enemy were ſuperior in number, [109] "Sparta," replied he, ‘"will be never the worſe inhabited though I ſhould be ſlain."’ The fight ac⯑cordingly was immediately begun, and was main⯑tained for a long time with equal bravery on both ſides, till at laſt the ſhip of Callicratidas, charging through the midſt of the enemy, was ſunk, and the reſt fled. The Peloponneſians loſt about ſeventy ſail, and the Athenians twenty-five, with moſt of the men in them.

The Athenian admirials, inſtead of being re⯑warded for the victory they had gained, were ſe⯑verely puniſhed for a ſuppoſed neglect of duty. They were accuſed of not having done their utmoſt to ſave their men who had been ſhipwrecked; and they were accordingly ſent home in irons, to an⯑ſwer for their conduct. They alledged in their de⯑fence, that they were purſuing the enemy; and, at the ſame time, gave orders about taking up the men to thoſe whoſe buſineſs it more peculiarly was; par⯑ticularly to Theramenes, who now appeared againſt them; but yet that their orders could not be exe⯑cuted, on account of a violent ſtorm which hap⯑pened at that time. This plea ſeemed ſo ſatisfactory, that ſeveral ſtood up and offered to bail them: but, in another aſſembly, the popular incendiaries de⯑manded juſtice, and ſo awed the judges, that So⯑crates was the only man who had courage enough to declare, that he would do nothing contrary to law, and accordingly refuſed to act. After a long debate, eight of the ten were condemned, and ſix of them were put to death; among whom was Pericles, ſon of the great ſtateſman of the ſame name. He maintained, that they had failed in no⯑thing of their duty, as they had given orders for we dead bodies being taken up; that if any one were guilty, it was Theramenes himſelf, who being charged with theſe orders, had neglected to put them in execution: but that he accuſed nobody, [110] and that the tempeſt, which came on unexpectedly at the very inſtant, was a ſufficient apology, and entirely freed the accuſed from all kind of guilt. He demanded, that a whole day ſhould be allowed them to make their defence, a favour not denied to the moſt criminal, and that they ſhould be tried ſeparately. He repreſented, that they were not in the leaſt obliged to precipitate a ſentence, in which the lives of the moſt illuſtrious citizens were con⯑cerned; that it was in ſome meaſure attacking the gods, to make them reſponſible for the winds and weather; that they could not, without the moſt flagrant ingratitude and injuſtice, inflict death upon the conquerors, to whom they ought rather to decree crowns and honours, or give up the de⯑fenders of their country to the rage of thoſe who envied them; that if they did ſo, their unjuſt judg⯑ment will be followed by a ſudden, but vain repen⯑tance, which would leave behind it the ſharpeſt re⯑morſe, and cover them with eternal infamy.

Among the number alſo was Diomedon, a per⯑ſon equally eminent for his valour and his probity: as he was carrying to execution he demanded to be heard,—‘"Athenians," ſaid he,"I wiſh the ſen⯑tence you have paſſed upon us may not prove the misfortune of the republic; but I have one fav [...]ur to aſk of you in behalf of my colleagues and myſelf, which is, to acquit us before the gods of the vows we made to them for you and ourſelves, as we are not in a condition to diſcharge them; for it is to their aid, invoked before the battle, we acknow⯑ledge, that we are indebted for the victory gained by us over the enemy."’ There was not a good citizen that did not melt into tears at this diſcourſe, ſo full of piety and religion, and behold with ſur⯑prize the moderation of a perſon, who ſeeing him⯑ſelf unjuſtly condemned, did not however, expreſs the leaſt reſentment, nor even utter a complaint [111] againſt his judges, but was ſolely intent, in favour of an ungrateful country which had doomed them to periſh, upon what it owed to the gods in com⯑mon with them for the victory they had lately ob⯑tained.

This complication of injuſtice and ingratitude gave the finiſhing blow to the affairs of the Athe⯑nians: they ſtruggled for a while after the defeat at Syracuſe, but from this time forward they ra⯑pidly declined, though ſeemingly in the arms of victory. The enemy, after their defeat, had once more recourſe to Lyſander, who had ſo often led them to conqueſt; in him they placed their chief confidence, and earneſtly ſolicited his return. The Lacedaemonians therefore, to gratify their allies, and yet to obſerve their laws, which forbade that honour being twice conferred on the ſame perſon, ſent him with an inferior title, but with the power of admiral. Thus appointed, Lyſander ſailed to⯑wards the Helleſpont, and laid ſiege to Lampſacus, which he took by ſtorm, and abandoned it to the mercy of the ſoldiers. The Athenians, who fol⯑lowed him cloſe, upon the news of his ſucceſs, ſteered forward towards Oleſtus, and from thence ſailing along the coaſt, halted over againſt the enemy at Aegos Potamos, a place fatal to the Athenians.

The Helleſpont is not above two thouſand paces broad in that place. The two fleets ſeeing them⯑ſelves ſo near each other, expected only to reſt that day, and hoped to come to an engagement on the next. But Lyſander had another deſign in view. He commanded the ſeamen and pilots to go on board their gallies, and hold themſelves in readineſs, as if they were really to fight next morning. He likewiſe commanded the land army to be drawn up in battle-array upon the coaſt, and to wait his or⯑ders in profound ſilence. On the morning, as ſoon [112] as the ſun was riſen, the Athenians rowed towards them with their whole fleet, and offered them bat⯑tle. This, however, Lyſander did not think pro⯑per to accept, even though his ſhips were ranged in perfect order, with their heads towards the enemy. The Athenians, aſcribing this conduct to fear or cowardice, retired in the evening, and, thinking they were in no danger, went aſhore to amuſe and regale themſelves, as if no enemy had been nigh. Of this laſt circumſtance Lyſander was fully in⯑formed, by ſome gallies he ſent out to obſerve their motions. To throw them, therefore, into ſtill greater ſecurity, and put them more off their guard, he allowed the three following days to paſs in the ſame manner, during each of which the Athenians came regularly up, and offered him battle, which he as regularly perſiſted to decline.

In the mean time Alcibiades, who ſince his diſ⯑grace had lived in Thrace, and was much better acquainted with the character of the Lacedaemonians, and particularly with that of Lyſander, than the preſent Athenian generals, came and warned them of their danger: he even offered, with a body of Thracian troops, to attack the enemy by land, and thus force them to a battle. But the Athenian ge⯑nerals, jealous of their honour, and thinking, that, if the event proved ſucceſsful, Alcibiades would en⯑joy all the glory, and, if otherwiſe, the whole blame would fall upon them, not only refuſed his aſſiſtance, but even rejected his ſalutary advice. The conſequence was, that, on the evening of the fifth day, when they had retired as uſual, and their men were all gone on ſhore, and diſperſed up and down the country, Lyſander came ſuddenly upon them with his whole force, and attacking them in this unprepared and defenceleſs condition, he eaſily made a capture of their whole fleet, except nine gallies, (including the ſacred ſhip) with which [113] Conon contrived to eſcape to Cyprus, where he took refuge with Evagoras. This was one of the moſt maſterly ſtrokes of generalſhip that ever was performed in ancient, or perhaps even in modern times; for by it Lyſander, in the ſpace of an hour, put end to a war, that had already laſted twenty-ſeven years, and but for him would probably have laſted much longer.

The number of priſoners amounted to three thouſand, and the fate of theſe is a ſhocking proof of the barbarous manners of the age; for it cannot be denied that, with all their attainments in elo⯑quence and poetry, and the other arts that depend upon the imagination, the Greeks and Romans were greatly inferior to the moderns, not merely in their knowledge of nature, but in civility, politeneſs, and in every thing that tends to humanize the mind of man. The fact is, theſe unhappy men were in⯑ſtantly put to death, though this was ſaid to be only by way of retaliation; for that the Athenians had cauſed to be thrown down a precipice all the men that were taken in two Lacedaemonian gallies, and had likewiſe made a decree for cutting off the thumb of the right hand of all the priſoners of war, in order to diſable them from handling the pike, and that they might be fit only to ſerve at the oar. Philocles, the chief author both of this barbarous act and this ſevere decree, was now called upon to ſhew what he could urge in his defence, when he haughtily re⯑plied,—"Accuſe not people of crimes who have no judges; but as you are victors, uſe your right, and do by us as we had done by you if we had con⯑quered." The only perſon that was ſaved out of the whole number was Adamantus, who had op⯑poſed the decree.

The Athenians were no ſooner informed of the entire defeat of their army, than they were over⯑wh [...]lmed with conſternation. They already thought [114] they ſaw Lyſander at their gates, nor was it long be⯑fore he came there. But before he did ſo, he com⯑manded all the Athenians, that were ſcattered up and down in different parts of Greece, to take ſhelter in Athens on pain of death. This he did with a deſign ſo to croud the city, that he might be able ſoon to reduce it by famine. And indeed, in a little time, he actually ſo reduced it. For Agis and Pauſanias, the two kings of Sparta, having beſieged it by land, and Lyſander himſelf blocking it up by ſea, the wretched Athenians, after undergoing the moſt in⯑tolerable hardſhips, were driven to ſuch extremity, that they ſent deputies to Agis, with offers of aban⯑doning all their poſſeſſions, their city and port only excepted. The haughty Lacedaemonian referred their deputies to the ſtate itſelf, and when theſe ſuppliants made known their commiſſion to the Ephori, they were ordered to depart, and come again with other propoſals if they expected peace.

At length Theramenes, an Athenian, undertook to manage the treaty with Lyſander; and, after a conference which laſted three months, he received full powers to treat at Lacedaemon. When he, attended by nine others, arrived before the Ephori, ſome of the confederates repreſented the neceſſity of deſtroying Athens entirely, without liſtening to any further propoſals. But the Lace⯑daemonians told them, that they would not con⯑ſent to the deſtruction of a city, which had pre⯑ſerved the general independence of Greece in the moſt critical juncture, and they therefore agreed to a peace upon theſe conditions: that the long walls and fortifications of the Piraeus ſhould be demo⯑liſhed; that they ſhould deliver up all their ſhips but twelve; that they ſhould reſtore their exiles; that they ſhould make a league offenſive and de⯑fenſive with the Lacedaemonians, and ſerve them in all their expeditions both by ſea and land.

[115]Theramenes being returned with the articles to Athens, was aſked why he acted in a manner ſo contrary to the intentions of Themiſtocles, and gave thoſe walls into the hands of the Lacedaemo⯑nians, which he built in defiance of them? ‘"I have my eye," ſaid he, "upon Themiſtocles's de⯑ſign; he raiſed theſe walls for the preſervation of the city, and I for the very ſame reaſon would have them deſtroyed; for, if walls only ſecure a city, Sparta, which has none, is in a very bad con⯑dition."’ Such an anſwer would not have ſatisfied the Athenians at any other time; but being now reduced to the laſt extremity, it did not admit of a long debate whether they ſhould accept the treaty. At laſt Lyſander, coming to the Piraeus, demoliſhed the walls with great ſolemnity, and all the inſulting triumphs of muſic; and thus was a period put to the famous Peleponneſian war, the longeſt, the moſt expenſive, and the moſt bloody, in which Greece had ever been engaged.

It would be unpardonable in us not to pay that tribute of gratitude and reſpect, which is due to the memory of thoſe exalted geniuſes, whoſe labours adorned the nations of their own time, and have poliſhed and humanized all ſucceeding ages. Wars and political conteſts ſerve but to de⯑populate the earth, or to fill the minds of men with animoſity and hate; while the labours of the hiſtorian, the fancies of the poet, and the diſcove⯑ries of the philoſopher, enlighten the underſtanding, meliorate the heart, and teach us fortitude and re⯑ſignation. Such peaceful and improving arts well deſerve our notice. More eſpecially does the cul⯑tivation of them in Greece deſerve our attention, as many of the writers of that country were re⯑nowned for military and political, as as well as li⯑terary accompliſhments.

[116]Of Homer it were unneceſſary to ſay much, his merit being well known. It is not probable, that he was the firſt of the Grecian poets. There ſeem to have been authors prior to him, from whom he has borrowed in the execution of his Iliad; but as he was the firſt poet of note, it was not unnatural to place him at the head of all ancient bards. Seven different places contended for the honour of giving him birth, but Smyrna ſeems to have the beſt claim. He is ſuppoſed to have been born about two hundred and forty years after the deſtruc⯑tion of Troy.

Heſiod was either contemporary with Homer, or lived immediately after him. Their works will not bear a compariſon. Homer is ſtately and ſub⯑lime, while Heſiod is plain and agreeable. But when we ſay ſo, we do not mean to detract in the leaſt from the reputation of Heſiod. To write with eaſe and propriety was all he aimed at, and this he certainly attained.

About the beginning of the war which preceded the peace concluded between the Athenians and Lacedaemonians for fifty years, died Aeſchylus, the Athenian dramatic writer. He has the ſame claim to the title of father of tragedy, which Homer has to that of epic poetry. For though he was not the firſt who attempted that ſort of compoſition, yet he was the firſt who reduced it to any kind of re⯑gularity or method. In the days of Solon, Theſ⯑pis made a conſiderable improvement, by intro⯑ducing a ſingle perſon, whoſe buſineſs was to relieve the chorus, by the recital of ſome extraordinary adventure. It was Aeſchylus who exchanged the cart of Theſpis for a theatre; who introduced a variety of performers, each taking a part in the re⯑preſentation of ſome great action, and dreſſed in a manner ſuited to his character. The ſtyle of Aeſ⯑chylus is pompous, and ſometimes ſublime, but far [117] from being harmonious. He is frequently too ſo very obſcure, that it is no eaſy matter to find out his meaning. The chief object of his pieces is terror; and, to do him juſtice, it muſt be acknow⯑ledged, that few dramatic writers have ſurpaſſed him in exciting that paſſion.

During that period, in which Greece was ſo much diſtracted by the Peloponneſian war, there flouriſhed Sophocles, Euripedes, Ariſtophanes, &c. among the poets; Herodotus and Thucydides among the hiſtorians; and Socrates among the philoſophers.

Sophocles had applied ſo intenſely to the ſtudy of tragedy, when a young man, that his firſt piece was judged not inferior to the very beſt of thoſe of Aeſchylus. Both theſe poets were ſtately in their manner, but Aeſchylus was the more ſublime. That advantage, however, was more than coun⯑terbalanced by the verſatility of Sophocles's genius, and by his ſuperior perſpicuity and eloquence. He was alſo more ſucceſsful than his maſter in his ap⯑peal to the paſſions; and though he did not harrow up the breaſt by terror, he ſoftened it more by pity, and acquired, of courſe, the reputation of being a more amiable and polite writer. Sophocles was likewiſe much more happy than his predeceſſor in the conduct of his plots. He made them more inter⯑eſting by being more artful. He alſo contrived to make the performances of the chorus bear a rela⯑tion to the main action, and ſo rendered the whole entire. He wrote a hundred and twenty tragedies, of which ſeven only remain. He lived to the age of 85, and then is ſaid to have died of joy for the ſucceſs of his laſt piece, as Aeſchylus is reported to have done of grief for being foiled by him in his firſt.

Euripides, the rival of Sophocles, aimed not at the lofty ſtrains of Aeſchylus, or of his great com⯑petitor. [118] He is more ſententious and moral than either of them, and ſeemed to have as ſtrong a de⯑ſire to inſtruct mankind, as to obtain their applauſe. Correctneſs and elegance were the qualities of ſtyle which he appears to have admired. He is leſs artful and magnificent than Sophocles, but then he is more natural and more uſeful. We have already mentioned a circumſtance much to his honour, the emancipation of many of the Athenians who were made priſoners at Syracuſe, becauſe they were able to repeat ſome of his beautiful verſes.

While tragedy was improving in the hands of Sophocles and Euripedes, comedy was advancing under the guidance of Eupolis, Cratinus, and Ariſtophanes. But the moſt diſtinguiſhed of this kind was Ariſtophanes. At the ſame time that he entertained the Athenians with his pleaſantry, he laſhed them with his ſatire. True it is, he did not poſſeſs much of that fine raillery, which has given ſo ſmooth, and yet ſo ſharp an edge to modern comedy: but then he had fire and ſtrength; and as he introduced his characters by their real names, occupations, &c. his performances were of⯑ten more reliſhed, and, very probably, more uſeful than thoſe of the tragedians.

As to hiſtory, Herodotus is conſidered as the fa⯑ther of that ſpecies of compoſition in Greece. He wrote the hiſtory of the wars between the Greeks and Perſians, and gave a detail of the affairs of al⯑moſt all other nations, from the reign of Cyrus to that of Xerxes. His work conſiſts of nine books. It is clothed in the Ionic dialect, and is a perfect model of ſimplicity and elegance.

Thucydides is eſteemed a more able writer than even Herodotus. He wants, indeed, that native elegance for which his predeceſſor is admired, but then he is more judicious and energetic. He wrote the hiſtory of the Peloponneſian war.

[119]Of Socrates, Plato, Ariſtotle, Demoſthenes, and other illuſtrious Grecian writers and philoſophers, mention is made in the different parts of this work. There is a circumſtance that merits our attention here; the diſcovery of the Metonic, or golden number, by Meton. That philoſopher flouriſhed a little be⯑fore the commencement of the Peloponneſian war, and was much eſteemed by the Athenians. Pin⯑dar was a native of Thebes, and contemporary with Meton.

CHAP. X. FROM THE DEMOLITION OF THE ATHENIAN POWER, TO THE DEATH OF SOCRATES.

THOUGH the Lacedaemonians would not con⯑ſent to the entire deſtruction of Athens, as they would not be guilty, they ſaid, of putting out one of the eyes of Greece, yet they not only re⯑duced it to the loweſt condition in point of politi⯑cal conſequence, but even altered the form of its government; for they compelled the people to aboliſh the democracy, and ſubmit to the govern⯑ment of thirty men, who were commonly known by the name of the thirty tyrants. The Greeks, indeed, were ſufficiently diſpoſed to give that name to men of virtuous characters; but theſe rulers of Athens, who were the mere creatures of Lyſan⯑der, appear to have deſerved, in every reſpect, the moſt opprobrious appellation. Inſtead of com⯑piling and publiſhing a more perfect body of laws, which was the pretence for their being choſen, they began to exerciſe their power of life and death; and though they appointed a ſenate, and other magiſtrates, they made no farther uſe of them than to confirm their own authority, and ſee their [120] commands executed. At firſt, it is true, they pro⯑ceeded with ſome caution, and condemned only the moſt profligate ſort of citizens, viz. ſuch as lived by informing and giving evidence againſt their neighbours; but this was only to blind the eyes of the populace; their real deſign was to make themſelves abſolute; and as they well knew, that this could not be done without a foreign power, they next contrived to have a guard ſent them from Sparta. This guard was commanded by one Callibius, whom they ſoon won over to their de⯑ſigns; and from this time forward they proceeded to act without controul, filling the city with the blood of thoſe, who, on account of their riches, intereſt, or good qualities, were moſt likely to op⯑poſe them.

One of their firſt acts of cruelty was to procure the death of Alcibiades, who had taken refuge in the dominions of Perſia. This man, though driven from his country, did not ceaſe to intereſt himſelf in [...] welfare; and the tyrants dreading, that, by his popularity at Athens, where he was ſtill much beloved, he would thwart all their ſchemes, en⯑treated the Lacedaemonians to rid them of ſo for⯑midable an opponent. This requeſt the Lacedae⯑monians had the meanneſs to comply with, and ac⯑cordingly wrote to Pharnabaſus the Perſian gover⯑nor, for that purpoſe; and he, in his turn, was no leſs baſe and unprincipled, for, without having re⯑ceived any perſonal injury from Alcibiades, he rea⯑dily promiſed to take him out of the way. The man⯑ner of this great man's death did not diſgrace the high character for courage he had maintained during life. The aſſaſſins, ſent againſt him, were afraid to at⯑tack him openly. They, therefore, ſurrounded the houſe in which he was, and ſet it on fire. Alci⯑biades forced his way through the flames, ſword in hand, and drove the barbarians before him, not one [121] of whom had the courage to oppoſe him; but all of them diſcharging their darts and javelins upon him from a diſtance, he at laſt fell covered with wounds, and inſtantly expired. Timandra, his miſtreſs, took up his body, and having covered and adorned it with the fineſt robes ſhe had, ſhe made as mag⯑nificent a funeral for it as her preſent circumſtances would allow. To what we have already ſaid of Alcibiades it may not be improper to add, that his great popularity, wherever he reſided, was princi⯑pally owing to the extreme verſatility of his genius, and the ſurpriſing facility with which he accommo⯑dated himſelf to the manners and cuſtoms of dif⯑ferent people; for in this reſpect no man ever ex⯑ceeded, or perhaps even equalled him. Plutarch ſays, that at Sparta he was hardy, frugal, and re⯑ſerved; in Ionia luxurious, indolent, and gay; and when tranſacting affairs with the king of Perſia's lieutenants, he ſurpaſſed even theſe men themſelves in pomp and magnificence.

The tyrants, though eaſed of their apprehenſions from this quarter, began to dread an oppoſition from another, that is from the general body of the people, whom they well knew to be diſſatisfied with their conduct; and they therefore inveſted three thouſand citizens with ſome part of their power, and by their aſſiſtance kept the reſt in awe. En⯑couraged now by ſuch an acceſſion of ſtrength, they ſoon proceeded to ſtill greater extremities than any they had hitherto ventured on; they agreed to ſingle out every one his man, to put him to death, and ſeize their eſtates for the maintenance of their guard. Theramenes, one of their number, was the only man that was ſtruck with horror at their proceed⯑ings: Critias, therefore, the principal author of this deteſtable reſolution, thought it neceſſary to [...]ake him out of the way, and he accordingly ac⯑cuſed him to the ſenate of endeavouring to ſubvert [122] the government. Sentence of death was immediately paſſed upon him, and he was obliged to drink the juice of hemlock, the uſual mode of execution at that time in Athens. Socrates, whoſe diſciple he had been, was the only perſon of the ſenate who ventured to appear in his defence; he made an at⯑tempt to reſcue him out of the hands of the officer of juſtice, and, after his execution, went about as it were in defiance of the thirty, exhorting and ani⯑mating the ſenators and citizens againſt them.

The tyrants thus freed from the oppoſition of a [...] colleague, whoſe preſence alone was a continua [...] reproach to them, ſet no longer any bounds to their cruelty and rapacity. Nothing was now heard o [...] but impriſonments, confiſcations and murders▪ every one trembled for himſelf or his friends▪ and amidſt the general conſternation, which had ſeized the citizens on account of their perſonal danger, all hope ſeems to have been loſt of reco⯑vering public liberty.

The Lacedaemonians, not content with ſupport⯑ing the thirty tyrants in the exerciſe of their cru⯑elty, were unwilling to let any of the Athenian [...] eſcape from their hands. They publiſhed an edi [...] to prohibit the cities of Greece from giving the [...] refuge, decreed that ſuch of them as fled ſhould b [...] delivered up to the thirty, and condemned all tho [...] who contravened this edict to pay a fine of five talent▪ Two cities only, Megara and Thebes, rejecte [...] with diſdain ſo unjuſt an ordinance. The latt [...] went ſtill further, and publiſhed a decree, th [...] every houſe and city in Boeotia ſhould be open a [...] free for any Athenian that deſired protection; a [...] that whoever did not aſſiſt a fugitive Athenian [...] was ſeized, ſhould be fined a talent. Thraſybu [...] a man of an admirable character, who had [...] deplored the miſeries of his country, was now [...] firſt to relieve it. At Thebes he held a conſ [...] ⯑tation [123] with his fellow-citizens, and the reſult was, that ſome attempt, with whatever danger it might be attended, ſhould certainly be made for reſtoring the public liberty. Accordingly with a party of thirty men only, as Nepos ſays, but, as Xenophon more probably relates, of near ſeventy, he ſeized upon Phyle, a ſtrong caſtle on the frontiers of At⯑tica. This enterprize alarmed the tyrants, who immediately marched out of Athens with their three thouſand followers, and their Spartan guard, and attempted the recovery of the place, but were repulſed with loſs. Finding they could not carry it by a ſudden aſſault, they reſolved upon a ſiege; but not being ſufficiently provided for that purpoſe, and a great ſnow falling in the night, they were forced to retire the next day into the city, leaving only part of their guard to prevent any farther in⯑curſions into the country.

Encouraged by this ſucceſs, Thraſybulus no lon⯑ger kept upon the defenſive, but marching out of P [...]ple by night at the head of a thouſand men, made himſelf maſter of Pyraeus. The thirty flew thither with their troops, and a battle ſufficiently warm en⯑ſued; but as the ſoldiers, on one ſide, fought with ſpirit and ardour for their liberty, and, on the other, with indolence and neglect for the power of their oppreſſors, the victory was not long doubtful, [...]ut followed the better cauſe; the tyrants were [...]ove [...]thrown; Critias was killed upon the ſpot; and, [...]s the reſt of the army were taking to flight, Thra⯑ [...]ybulus cried out, ‘"Wherefore do you fly from me [...]s from a victor, rather than aſſiſt me as the avenger [...]f your liberty? we are not enemies but fellow- [...]itizens; neither have we declared war againſt the [...]ty, but againſt the thirty tyrants."’ He entreated [...]em to remember, that they had the ſame origin, [...]ountry, laws, and religion; he exhorted them to [...]ty their exiled brethren, to reſtore to them their [124] country, and reſume their liberty themſelves. This diſcourſe had the deſired effect. The army, upon their return to Athens, expelled the thirty, and ſub⯑ſtituted ten perſons to govern in their room, but whoſe conduct proved no better than that of their predeceſſors.

Though the government was thus altered, and the thirty deprived of their power, they ſtill had hopes of being re-inſtated in their former authority, and ſent deputies to Sparta to demand aid. Lyſan⯑der was for granting it to them; but Pauſanias who then reigned in Sparta, moved with compaſ⯑ſion at the deplorable condition of the Athenians favoured them in private, and obtained a peace fo [...] them: it was ſealed with the blood of the tyrants who having taken arms to reſtore themſelves to power, were put to the ſword, and Athens left i [...] full poſſeſſion of its liberty. Thraſybulus the [...] propoſed an amneſty, by which the citizens engage [...] upon oath that all paſt actions ſhould be buried i [...] oblivion. The government was re-eſtabliſhed upo [...] its ancient footing, the laws recovered their forme [...] vigour, the magiſtrates were elected with the uſua [...] ceremonies, and democracy was once more reſtore [...] to this unfortunate people. Xenophon ſays, tha [...] this inteſtine commotion conſumed as many i [...] eight months, as the Peloponneſian war had done i [...] ten years.

From Europe we muſt now paſs over into Aſ [...] which was the ſcene of the next great action, i [...] which the Greeks were concerned. This was [...] other than the famous expedition of Cyrus, [...] younger ſon of Darius Nothus, late king of Perſ [...] who had long entertained hopes of being [...] day able to dethrone his elder brother, Artaxerx [...] ▪ He had, indeed, made ſeveral attempts for this pu [...] ⯑poſe already, and had as often been pardoned by [...] brother at the earneſt entreaty of their mother [...] ⯑ryſatis. [125] Artaxerxes carried his generoſity to a ſtill greater, and even to an imprudent length; for he beſtowed upon Cyrus the abſolute command of all thoſe provinces that had been left him by the will of his father. Cyrus no ſooner found himſelf in this exalted ſituation, than he began to uſe every art for the accompliſhment of his ambitious project; and with this view he engaged in his ſervice a body of thirteen thouſand Greeks under the command of Clearchus, an able Lacedaemonian officer, who had been baniſhed his native country, and for ſome time reſided at the court of Cyrus. Theſe were joined by a great number of Perſians from the provinces which Cyrus himſelf commanded, as well as from thoſe under the government of Tiſſaphernes, where ſeveral cities had revolted in his favour. The com⯑mon Grecians, however, were entire ſtrangers to the purpoſe for which they were enliſted, nor was any one let into Cyrus's deſign but Clearchus him⯑ſelf. When the troops, therefore, began their march, and had advanced as far as Tarſus, the Greeks refuſed to proceed any farther, rightly ſuſ⯑ſpecting that they were intended againſt the king, and loudly exclaiming that they had not entered into the ſervice upon that condition. Clearchus had need of all his dexterity and addreſs to ſtifle this commotion in its birth. At firſt he made uſe of authority and force; but finding theſe had little effect, he deſiſted from an open oppoſition to the ſentiments of the ſoldiers: he even affected to enter into their views, and to ſupport them with his ap⯑probation and credit. By this artful evaſion he appeaſed the tumult, and made the men eaſy for the preſent; and they choſe him and ſome others for their deputies. Cyrus, whom he had ſecretly apprized of every thing, made anſwer, that he was going to attack Abrocomas, his enemy, at twelve days march from thence, upon the Euphrates. [126] When this anſwer was reported to them, though they plainly ſaw againſt whom they were going, they reſolved to proceed, and only demanded an augmentation of their pay. Cyrus, inſtead of one daric a month to each ſoldier, promiſed to give them one and a half. And the more to ingratiate himſelf, when he was told, that two officers had deſerted from the army, and was adviſed to purſue and put them to death, he publickly declared, that it ſhould never be ſaid had detained any one per⯑ſon in his ſervice againſt his will; and he therefore ordered their wives and children, who had been left as hoſtages in his army, to be ſent after them. A conduct ſo wiſe, and apparently generous, had a ſurprizing effect in gaining the affections of the ſoldiers, and made even thoſe his firm adherents who before were averſe to his cauſe.

As Cyrus advanced by long marches, he received intelligence from all quarters, that the king did not intend to come to a battle with him directly, but had reſolved to wait in the interior parts of Perſia till all his forces were aſſembled; and that, to ſtop his progreſs, he had ordered an intrench⯑ment to be thrown up on the plains of Babylon, with a ditch of five fathoms broad, and three deep, extending the length of twelve paraſangs, or leagues, from the Euphrates to the wall of Media. Between the Euphrates and the ditch, a way had been left of twenty feet in breadth, by which Cyrus paſſed with his whole army, having reviewed it the day before. The king had neglected to diſpute this paſs with him, and ſuffered him to continue his march to⯑wards Babylon.

As Cyrus expected to engage every moment, he took care to proceed in order of battle, giving the command of the right wing of the Greeks to Clearchus, and that of the left to Menon. At length he diſcovered his brother's army, amounting to [127] twelve hundred thouſand men, beſides a ſelect body of ſix thouſand horſe, approaching and preparing to attack him.

The place where the battle was fought was called Cunaxa, about twenty-five leagues from Babylon. Cyrus getting on horſeback, with his javelin in his hand, commanded his troops to ſtand to their arms, and proceed in order of battle. The enemy, in the mean time, who were headed by Artaxerxes in perſon, advanced ſlowly and in good order. This ſight extremely ſurprized the Greeks, who expected to have found nothing but tumult and confuſion in ſo great a multitude, and to have ſeen them ruſhing on with ſtrange and hideous outcries.

The armies were not diſtant above four or five hundred paces, when the Greeks began to ſing the hymn of battle, and to march on ſoftly at firſt, and with ſilence. When they came near the ene⯑my, they ſet up great cries, ſtriking their darts up⯑on their ſhields to frighten the horſe; and then moving altogether, they ſprung forward upon the barbarians with all their force, who did not wait their charge, but took to their heels, and fled uni⯑verſally, except Tiſſaphernes, who ſtood his ground with a ſmall part of his troops.

Cyrus ſaw with pleaſure the enemy routed by the Greeks, and was proclaimed king by thoſe around him; but he did not give himſelf up to vain joy, nor as yet reckoned himſelf ſure of the victory. He peceived that Artaxerxes was wheeling his right wing to attack him in flank, and marched directly againſt him with ſix hundred horſe. Diſcovering his brother, he cried out, with eyes ſparkling with rage, I ſee him, and ſpurred againſt him, followed only by his principal officers; for his troops had quitted their ranks, to purſue the fugitives, which was a capital blunder. The battle then became, in ſome meaſure, a ſingle combat between Artaxerxes [128] and Cyrus; and the two brothers were ſeen tran⯑ſported with rage and fury, endeavouring, like Eteocles and Polynices, to plunge their ſwords into each others hearts, to aſſure themſelves of the throne by the death of their rival.

Cyrus having forced his way through thoſe who were drawn up before his brother, joined him, and killed his horſe, that fell with him to the ground: he roſe, and was remounted upon another, when Cyrus attacked him again, gave him a ſecond wound, and was preparing to give him a third, in hopes that it would prove his laſt. The king, like a lion wounded by the huntſman, was only more furious from the ſmart, and ſprung forward, impe⯑tuouſly puſhing his horſe againſt Cyrus, who running headlong, and without regard to his perſon, threw himſelf into the midſt of a flight of darts aimed at him from all ſides, and received a wound from the king's javelin, at the ſame time that all the reſt diſ⯑charged upon him. Cyrus fell dead; ſome ſay by the wound given him by the king; others affirm, that he was killed by a Carian ſoldier, to whom, as a reward, Artaxerxes granted the privilege of bear⯑ing a golden cock on the point of his ſpear at the head of the army. The principal officers of his court, reſolving not to ſurvive ſo good a maſter, were all killed around him: a certain proof, ſays Xe⯑nophon, that he well knew how to chuſe his friends, and that he was truly beloved by them. Ariaeus, who ought to have been the firmeſt of all his ad⯑herents, fled with his right wing, as ſoon as he heard of his death.

Artaxerxes, after having cauſed the head and right hand of his brother to be cut off, purſued the enemy into their camp. Ariaeus had not ſtopped there, but having paſſed through it, continued his retreat to the place where the army had encamped [129] the day before, which was about four leagues diſ⯑tant.

Tiſſaphernes, after the defeat of the greateſt part of his left wing by the Greeks, led on the reſt againſt them, and by the ſide of the river, paſſed through the light-armed infantry of the Greeks, who opened to give him a paſſage, and made their diſcharges upon him as he paſſed, without loſing a man. They were commanded by Epiſthenes of Amphipolis, who was eſteemed an able captain. Tiſſaphernes kept on without returning to the charge, becauſe he perceived he was too weak, and went forward to Cyrus's camp, where he found the king who was plundering it, but had not been able to force the quarter defended by the Greeks, who ſaved their baggage.

The Greeks on their ſide, and Artaxerxes on his, who did not know what had paſſed elſewhere, be⯑lieved each of them that they had gained the vic⯑tory: the firſt, becauſe they had put the enemy to flight, and purſued them; and the king, becauſe he had killed his brother, beat the troops he had fought, and plundered their camp. The matter was ſoon cleared up on both ſides. Tiſſaphernes, upon his arrival at the camp, informed the king, that the Greeks had defeated his left wing, and purſued it to a great diſtance; and the Greeks, on their ſide, learnt, that the king, in purſuing Cy⯑rus's left, had penetrated into the camp. Upon this advice the king rallied his troops, and marched in queſt of the enemy; and Clearchus, being re⯑turned from purſuing the Perſians, advanced to op⯑poſe him.

The two armies were very ſoon near each other, when, after ſeveral movements on both ſides in order to gain the advantage of the ground, they at laſt came to a battle, and the Greeks routed the barbarians with the ſame facility as before. They [130] even purſued them to a hill at a conſiderable diſ⯑tance where the enemy ventured to halt, and were preparing to attack them a ſecond time, when the Perſians dreading another overthrow, betook them⯑ſelves again to flight in the utmoſt diſorder.

As it was almoſt night, the Greeks laid down their arms to reſt themſelves, much ſurprized that neither Cyrus, or any from him, appeared; and imagining, that he was either engaged in the pur⯑ſuit of the enemy, or was making himſelf maſter of ſome important place (for they were ſtill igno⯑rant of his death, and the defeat of the left wing of the army) they determined to return to their camp, and found the greateſt part of the baggage taken, with all the proviſions, and four hundred waggons laden with corn and wine, which Cyrus had expreſsly cauſed to be carried along with the army for the Greeks, in caſe of any preſſing ne⯑ceſſity. They paſſed the night in the camp, the greateſt part of them without any refreſhment, con⯑cluding that Cyrus was alive and victorious. But when they heard of his death, they ſent to Ariaeus, as conqueror and commander in chief, to offer him the Perſian crown. Meanwhile the king alſo con⯑ſidering himſelf as conqueror, ſent to them to ſur⯑render their arms, and implore his mercy; repre⯑ſenting to them, at the ſame time, that as they were in the heart of his dominions, ſurrounded with vaſt rivers and numberleſs nations, it would be impoſſible for them to eſcape his vengeance, and therefore they had no other choice left but to ſub⯑mit to the preſent neceſſity.

Upon debating among themſelves what anſwer they ſhould return, Proxenus deſired to know of the heralds, upon what terms the king demanded their arms: if as a conqueror, it was in his power to take them; if upon any other footing, what would he give them in return. He was ſeconded by Xe⯑nophon, who ſaid, that they had nothing left but [131] their arms and their liberty, and that they could not preſerve the one without the other. Clearchus obſerved to the ſame effect, that if the king was diſpoſed to be their friend, they ſhould be better able to ſerve him with their arms than without; if their enemy, they ſhould have need of them for their defence. Some, indeed, ſpoke a milder language; that as they had ſerved Cyrus faithfully, they would alſo ſerve Artaxerxes, if he would employ them; and provided he would, at the ſame time, put them in poſſeſſion of Egypt. At laſt it was agreed, that they ſhould remain in their preſent ſituation, without either advancing or retreating; and that if they did either, it ſhould be looked upon as a de⯑claration of war: ſo that the treaty ſeems to have been managed in ſuch a manner as to avoid giving a direct anſwer, and merely to amuſe the king and gain time.

While this affair was in agitation, they received Ariaeus's anſwer, that there were too many great men in Perſia to let him quietly poſſeſs the throne, for which reaſon he intended to ſet out early the next morning on his return to Greece; and that, it they had a mind to accompany him, they muſt join him that night in his camp; which they ac⯑cordingly all did, except Milthocytus, a Thracian, who went over with a party of three hundred men and forty horſe to the king. The reſt, in conjunc⯑tion with Ariaeus's forces, decamped by break of day, and continued their march until ſun-ſet, when they diſcovered from the neighbouring villages, that the king was in purſuit of them.

Clearchus who had the command of the Greeks, or⯑dered his men to halt, and prepared for an engagement. The king of Perſia, intimidated by ſo reſolute a conduct, ſent heralds, not to demand their ſurren⯑der, but to propoſe terms of accommodation. When Clearchus was informed of their arrival, he [132] ordered his attendants to bid them wait, and to tell them that he was not yet at leiſure to hear them. He purpoſely put on an air of haughtineſs and grandeur, to denote his intrepedity, and, at the ſame time, to ſhew the fine appearance and good condition of his troops. When he advanced with the moſt ſhewy of his officers, expreſsly choſen for the purpoſe, and had heard what the heralds had to ſay, he made anſwer, that they muſt begin with giving battle, becauſe his men being in want of proviſions, they had no time to loſe. The heralds having carried back this meſſage to their maſter, re⯑turned immediately; which ſhewed that the king, or whoever ſpoke in his name, was not far off. They ſaid they had orders to conduct them to vil⯑lages where they would find plenty of proviſions, and conducted them thither accordingly.

After three days ſtay, Tiſſaphernes arrived, and inſinuated to them the good offices he had done them with his maſter. Clearchus vindicated him⯑ſelf and his men by alledging, that they were en⯑gaged in this expedition without knowing the enemy againſt whom they were to fight; that they were free from all engagements, and would commit no act of hoſtility againſt the Perſian king, if he would allow them to return quietly. Tiſſaphernes aſſured them, that they ſhould meet with no obſtruction: on the contrary, that they ſhould be ſupplied with all kinds of proviſions in their march; and, the more effectually to enſure their ſafety, that he himſelf would accompany them on the way. But this ſatrap's duplicity was equal to his cruelty. For the barbarian army always encamping at about a league's diſtance from the Grecians, left ſome room for ſuſpicion; and when they were arrived on the banks of the river Zabatus, Tiſſaphernes pretended that ſome of Clearchus's principal officers had en⯑deavoured to ſow jealouſies between the two armies; [133] and that if he would bring them to his tent the next day, he would point out the perſons he had in his eye. Clearchus was ſo weak as to agree to this propoſal; and accordingly he, together with Menon, Proxenes, Agis, and Socrates, went to the Perſian general's tent, where they had no ſooner arrived, than, on a ſignal given, they were inſtantly ſeized, their attendants put to the ſword, and themſelves, after being ſent bound to the king, were beheaded in his preſence.

The conſternation of the Greeks, upon being informed of this maſſacre of their generals, may be more eaſily conceived than deſcribed. They were now near two thouſand miles from home, ſur⯑rounded with great rivers, extenſive foreſts, and inimical nations, without any ſupplies of provi⯑ſions. In this forlorn condition they were almoſt overwhelmed with deſpair, and could think of taking neither refreſhment nor repoſe; but they recovered ſome faint hopes, when they began to reflect upon the abilities of Xenophon, a young Athenian, who had accompanied Proxenes into Aſia, and had hitherto ſerved as a volunteer in the army. This was that Xenophon, afterwards ſo famous as an hiſtorian; and his conduct ſeemed equal to his elo⯑quence, in which he ſurpaſſed all the reſt of man⯑kind. This young ſoldier went to ſome of the Greek officers in the middle of the night, and repreſented to them that they had no time to loſe; that it was of the laſt importance to prevent the bad deſigns of the enemy; that, however ſmall their number, they would render themſelves formidable, if they be⯑haved with boldneſs and reſolution; that valour, and not multitudes, determines the event of bat⯑tles; and that it was neceſſary, above all things, to nominate generals immediately, becauſe an army without commanders is like a body without a ſoul. A council was immediately held, at which an hun⯑dred [134] officers were preſent; and Xenophon being deſired to ſpeak, explained at large the reaſons he had at firſt but ſlightly touched upon; and, by his advice, commanders were appointed. They were Timaſion for Clearchus, Xanthicles for Socrates, Cleanor for Agis, Phileſius for Menon, and Xeno⯑phon for Proxenes.

Before break of day they aſſembled the army. The generals made ſpeeches to animate the men, and Xenophon among the reſt. ‘"Fellow ſoldiers, ſaid he, the loſs of ſo many brave men by vile trea⯑chery, and the being abandoned by our friends, is very deplorable; but we muſt not ſink under our misfortunes; and, if we cannot conquer, let us reſolve rather to periſh gloriouſly, than fall into the hands of barbarians, who would inflict upon us the greateſt miſeries: let us call to mind the glorious battles of Plataea, Thermopylae, Salamis, and many others, wherein our anceſtors, though with a ſmall number, have fought and defeated the innu⯑merable armies of the Perſians, and thereby ren⯑dered the name alone of Greeks for ever formid⯑able. It is to their invincible valour we owe the honour we poſſeſs, of acknowledging no maſters upon earth but the gods, nor any happineſs but what conſiſts with liberty. Thoſe gods, the avengers of perjury, and witneſſes of the enemy's treaſon, will be favourable to us; and as they are offended by the violation of treaties, and take plea⯑ſure in humbling the proud, and exalting the humble, they will alſo follow us to battle, and combat for us. For the reſt fellow-ſoldiers, we have no refuge but in victory, which muſt be our hope, and will make us ample amends for whatever it coſts us to attain it. And I ſhould think, if it were your opinion, that, for the making a more ready and leſs difficult retreat, it would be proper to rid ourſelves of all the uſeleſs baggage, and to keep only what is ab⯑ſolutely [135] neceſſary in our march."’ All the ſoldiers that moment lifted up their hands, to ſignify their approbation of what had been ſaid, and without loſs of time ſet fire to their tents and baggage; ſuch of them as had too much equipage, giving it to others who had too little, and deſtroying the reſt.

The van was led by Cheriſophus, the Spartan general, and Xenophon, with Timaſion, brought up the rear. They directed their march towards the heads of the great rivers, in order to paſs them where they where fordable. But they had not ad⯑vanced far, before they were overtaken by a party of the enemy's archers and ſlingers, commanded by Mithridates, which galled their rear, and wounded ſeveral of them, who being heavy armed, and with⯑out cavalry, could make no reſiſtance. To pre⯑vent the like inconvenience, Xenophon furniſhed two hundred Rhodians with ſlings, and mounted fifty more of his men upon baggage horſes; ſo that when Mithridates came up with them a ſecond time, and with a much greater body, he was repulſed with loſs, and the Greeks made good their retreat to the city of Lariſſa on the banks of the Tigris. From thence they marched to another deſolate city, called Mepſila; and about four leagues from that place, Tiſſaphernes came up to them with his whole army, but after ſeveral ſkirmiſhes was obliged to retire. They afterwards met with ſome obſtruction in paſſ⯑ing an eminence which the enemy had ſeized, but from this they ſoon found means to diſlodge them, and deſcended into the plain on the other ſide.

Their difficulties, however, ſeemed to multiply as they advanced; for they were now hemmed in on the one hand by the river Tigris, and on the other by almoſt impaſſable mountains, inhabited by the Carduci, a fierce and warlike people, who, as Xenophon ſays, had, in theſe dangerous paſſes, en⯑tirely deſtroyed an army of an hundred and twenty [136] thouſand Perſians. But as they had no boats to croſs the river, and as the road through the moun⯑tains led into the rich plains of Armenia, they re⯑ſolved to purſue their march that way. The Car⯑duci ſoon took the alarm; but not being prepared to oppoſe the Greeks in a body, they poſſeſſed them⯑ſelves of the tops of the rocks and mountains, and from thence annoyed them with darts and great ſtones, which they threw down upon them as they paſſed through the defiles, where they were likewiſe attacked by ſeveral other parties: and though their loſs was not conſiderable, yet, what with ſtorms and famine, beſides ſeven days tedious march, and being continually forced to fight their way, they underwent here much greater hardſhips than any they had hitherto ſuffered.

Not far from the foot of the mountain, they met with a freſh obſtruction. The river Centrites, about two hundred feet in breadth, preſented itſelf before them. Twice did they attempt to croſs it; at firſt without ſucceſs, on account of the depth of the water; but the ſecond time they were more fortunate, and at length got to the other ſide.

They now proceeded with leſs interruption, paſſed the Tigris near its ſource, and arrived at the little river Teleboa, which is the boundary of the Weſtern Armenia. This province was governed by Tiri⯑baſus, a great favourite of the king, and who had the honour to help him to mount on horſeback when at Court. He offered to let the army paſs, and to furniſh the men with the neceſſary proviſions, pro⯑vided they abſtained from all acts of hoſtility; and this propoſal was accepted and ratified on both ſides. Tiribaſus, however, kept a flying camp at a ſmall diſtance from the army. There fell, at the ſame time, a great quantity of ſnow, which put the troops to ſome inconvenience; and they learnt from a priſoner, that Tiribaſus intended to attack [137] them in a defile of the mountains, through which they muſt neceſſarily paſs. They took care, how⯑ever, to prevent him, by ſeizing that poſt, after having routed the enemy. After ſome days march through the deſert, they paſſed the Euphrates near its head, not having the water above their middle.

They were afterwards incommoded by a north wind, which blew in their faces, and prevented re⯑ſpiration, ſo that it was thought neceſſary to ſacri⯑fice to the wind; upon which, we are told, it began to abate. They proceeded through the ſnow five or ſix feet deep, which killed ſeveral ſervants and beaſts of burden, beſides thirty ſoldiers. They made fires in the night, for they found plenty of wood. All the next day they continued their march through the ſnow, when many of them, from long faſting, followed with languor, or fainting, fell down upon the ground through weakneſs and want of ſpirits; but when ſomething had been given them to eat, they found themſelves relieved, and reſumed their march.

After a march of ſeven days they arrived at the river Araxes, otherwiſe called the Phaſus, which is about one hundred feet in breadth. Two days after, they diſcovered the Phaſians, the Chalybes, and the Taochians, who had ſeized the paſs of the mountains, to prevent their deſcending into the plain. Xenophon, however, obſerved, that they defended only the ordinary paſſage; and by his ad⯑vice, therefore, a party was ſent to take poſſeſſion of the heights, which commanded that paſſage; by which means the enemy were ſoon diſlodged, and the road effectually cleared. Thus, after a march of twelve or fifteen days more, they arrived at a very high mountain, called Tecqua, from whence they deſcried the ſea. The firſt who perceived it raiſed great ſhouts of joy for a conſiderable time, which made Xenophon imagine the vanguard was [138] attacked, and he therefore advanced to ſupport it with the utmoſt expedition. As he approached nearer, the cry of the ſea! the ſea! was diſtinctly heard, and the alarm changed into joy and exulta⯑tion: and when they came to the top, nothing was heard but a confuſed noiſe, of the whole army cry⯑ing out together, the ſea! the ſea! whilſt they could not refrain from tears, nor from embracing their generals and officers: and then, without waiting for orders, they heaped up a pile of ſtones, and erected a trophy with broken bucklers and other arms.

From thence they advanced to the mountains of Colchis, one of which was higher than the reſt, and of that the people of the country had taken poſſeſſion. As the ground in this paſs was extremely unequal, the Greeks marched in files, inſtead of line of bat⯑tle; and attacking the enemy with great ſpirit, they ſoon put them to flight, and deſcended into the plain on the other ſide of the mountains. Here a very ſingular accident befel them, which at firſt threw them into ſome conſternation: for finding a number of bee-hives in the place, and eating greedily of the honey, they were ſuddenly ſeized with violent vomitings and fluxes; ſo that thoſe who were leaſt ill ſeemed like drunken men, and the reſt either furiouſly mad or dying. The earth was ſtrewed with their bodies as after a defeat; not one of them, however, died, and the diſtemper ceaſed the next day about the ſame hour it began. The third or fourth day the ſoldiers got up, but in that condition which people are uſually in after taking a violent medicine.

Two days after, the army arrived near Trebiſond, a Greek colony of Sinopians, ſituated upon the Euxine, or Black ſea, in the province of Colchis. Here they lay encamped for thirty days, and acquit⯑ted themſelves of the vows they had made to [139] Jupiter, Hercules, and the other deities, to obtain a happy return into their own country. They alſo celebrated the games of horſe and foot races, and wreſtling and boxing, or the pancratium, the whole attended with the greateſt joy and ſolemnity. Here Xenophon formed a project of ſettling them in thoſe parts, and founding a Grecian colony, which was approved of by ſome; but his enemies repre⯑ſenting it to the army as only a more honourable way of abandoning them, and to the inhabitants as a deſign to ſubdue and enſlave the country, he was obliged to give over the enterprize. The noiſe of it, however, had this good effect, that the natives did what they could in a friendly manner to haſten their departure, adviſing to go by ſea as the ſafeſt way, and furniſhed them with a ſufficient number of tranſports for that purpoſe.

Accordingly, they ſet ſail with a fair wind, and the next day got into the harbour of Sinope, where Cheriſophus met them with ſome gallies; but inſtead of the money he had promiſed to pay them, he only told them they ſhould recieve their arrears as ſoon as they got out of the Euxine ſea. This an⯑ſwer gave them ſo much diſguſt, that they reſolved to put themſelves under one general; and they de⯑ſ [...]red Xenophon, in the moſt preſſing and affec⯑t [...]onate terms, to accept of that command, which be modeſtly declined, and procured the appoint⯑ment to fall upon Cheriſophus. But he did not enjoy it above ſix or ſeven days; for they were no [...]ner arrived at Heraclea, than they depoſed him its refuſing to exhort a ſum of money from the [...]b [...]tants of that city; and as this was a Greek colony, Xenophon likewiſe refuſed to have any concern in the affair: ſo that the army, being diſ⯑appointed in their hopes of plunder, broke out into a mutiny, and divided into three bodies. In a little time, however, they were happily re-united, [140] and encamped at the port of Calpe, where they ſet⯑tled the command as before, ſubſtituting Neon in the room of Cheriſophus, who died here, and making it death for any one hereafter to propoſe the divid⯑ing of the army. But being ſtraitened for provi⯑ſions, they were obliged to diſperſe themſelves up and down the country, where Pharnabazus's horſe, being joined by the inhabitants, cut five hundred of them in pieces: the reſt eſcaping to a hill were reſcued and brought off by Xenophon, who led them firſt to Chryſopolis of Chalcedon, and after⯑wards to Byzantium.

From thence he conducted them to Salmydeſſa, to enable Seuthes, prince of Thrace, to recover his father's dominions, of which his enemies had deprived him. This prince had made great pro⯑miſes to Xenophon and his men, if they would aſſiſt him in this important undertaking; but when they had done him the ſervice he wanted, he was ſo far from keeping his word, that he did not even give them the pay agreed on. Xenophon re⯑proached him ſeverely with this breach of faith, which, however, he attributed to the ill advice of his miniſter, Heraclides, who thought to make his court to his maſter, by ſaving him a ſum of money at the expence of every thing that ought to be dear to a prince.

In the mean time, Charminus and Polynices ar⯑rived as ambaſſador from Lacedaemon, with advice, that the republic had declared war againſt Tiſſa⯑phernes and Pharnabazus; that Thimbron had al⯑ready embarked with the troops; and that the Spar⯑tans would give a daric a month to every ſoldier, two to each officer, and four to the colonels, who ſhould engage in the ſervice. Xenophon accepted the offer, and having obtained from Seuthes, by the mediation of the ambaſſadors, part of the pay due to him, he went by ſea to Lampſacus with the [141] army, which amounted ſtill, after all its loſſes, to about ſix thouſand men. From thence he advanced to Pergamus, a city in the province of Troas. Having met, near Parthenia, a great nobleman re⯑turning into Perſia, he took him, his wife and chil⯑dren, with all their equipage, and by that means was enabled to diſtribute among the ſoldiers very handſome gratuities, and to make them ample amends for all the loſſes they had ſuſtained. Thim⯑bron at length arrived, and having aſſumed the command of the troops, and united them with his own, he marched againſt Tiſſaphernes and Pharnabazus.

Such was the end of Cyrus's expedition. Xeno⯑phon, who himſelf has written a moſt elegant hiſ⯑tory of it, computes, from the firſt ſetting out of that prince's army from the city of Epheſus, to their arrival at the place where the battle was fought, five hundred and thirty paraſangs, or leagues, and four⯑ſcore and thirteen days march; and in their retreat from the field of battle to Corcyra, a city upon the coaſt of the Euxine, or Black ſea, ſix hundred and twenty paraſangs, or leagues, and one hundred and twenty days march: and, adding both together, he ſays, the way going and coming was eleven hundred and fifty-five paraſangs, or leagues, and two hundred and fifteen days march; and that the whole time the army took to perform that journey, including the days of reſt, was fifteen months.

We come now to an affair of a more private and domeſtic, but not of a leſs intereſting nature; we mean the death of Socrates, one of the moſt ami⯑able and exalted characters that ever appeared in the world, either in ancient or modern times. We have already ſeen this great man, who was the ſon of a ſtone-cutter at Athens, emerging from the obſcu⯑rity of his birth, and giving examples of courage, moderation, and wiſdom; we have ſeen him ſaying the life of Alcibiades in battle, refuſing to concur in the edict which unjuſtly doomed the ſix Athenian [142] generals to death, withſtanding the proceedings o [...] the thirty tyrants, and in a word, expreſſing his de⯑teſtation of every thing which he deemed incon⯑ſiſtent with the principles of honour and juſtice. Poſſeſſed, as he always was, of the moſt unbounded philanthropy, he was ready to forgive thoſe vices in others, from which he himſelf was in a great mea⯑ſure free. He ſeemed, ſays Libanius, the common father of the republic, ſo attentive was he to the happineſs and welfare of every individual of the ſtate. But knowing how difficult it is to reform the old, and to make people change thoſe prin⯑ciples, which from their earlieſt infancy they have been accuſtomed to hold ſacred, he applied himſelf chiefly to the inſtruction of youth, in order to ſow the ſeeds of virtue in a ſoil more likely to produce the fruits of it. He had, however, no open ſchool like the reſt of the philoſophers, nor ſet times for his leſſons; he had no benches prepared, nor ever mounted a profeſſor's chair; he was the philoſopher of all times and ſeaſons; he taught in all places, and upon all occaſions; in walking, converſation, at meals, in the army, in the midſt of the camp, and in the public aſſemblies of the people.

Such was the man whom a faction in the city had long devoted to deſtruction; he had been, for many years before his death, the object of their ſatire and ridicule. Ariſtophanes, the comic poet, was engaged to expoſe him upon the ſtage. He com⯑poſed a play, called the Clouds, in which he intro⯑duced the philoſopher in a baſket, uttering the moſt ridiculous abſurdities. Socrates, who was preſent at the exhibition of his own character, ſeemed not to feel the leaſt emotion; and as ſome ſtrangers were preſent who deſired to know the original for whom the play was intended, he roſe from his ſeat, and ſhewed himſelf during the whole repreſenta⯑tion. This was the firſt blow ſtruck at him, and it was not till twenty years after, that Melitus ap⯑peared [143] in a more formal manner as his accuſer, and entered a regular proceſs againſt him. The two chief crimes of which he accuſed him, were, that he did not admit the gods acknowledged by the republic, and introduced new divinities; and that he corrupted the youth of Athens: and he therefore concluded with inferring, that ſentence of death ought to be paſſed upon him.

The ſecond charge was evidently groundleſs. How far the firſt was founded in truth, we cannot, at this diſtance of time, pretend to determine. It is not likely, indeed, that amidſt ſo much zeal and ſuperſtition as then prevailed in Athens, he would venture openly to oppoſe the received religion; but it is very probable, from the diſcourſes he frequently held with his friends, that in his heart he deſpiſed and laughed at their monſtrous opinions and ridi⯑culous myſteries, as having no other foundation than the fables of the poets, and that he had at⯑tained to the notion of the one true God, the cre⯑ator and preſerver of the univerſe.

As ſoon as the conſpiracy broke out, the friends of Socrat [...]s prepared for his defence. Lyſias, the moſt able orator of his time, brought him an ela⯑borate diſcourſe of his own compoſing, in which he vindicated the conduct of Socrates with great fo [...]ce of reaſoning, and interſperſed the whole with tender and pathetic ſtr [...]kes, capable of moving the moſt occurate hearts. Socrates read it with pleaſure, and approved of it very much; but as it was more c [...]nf [...]m [...]le to the rules of rhetoric, than the ſenti⯑ments and fortitude of a philoſopher, he told him plainly, tha [...] [...] n [...]t ſuit him. Lyſias aſked him how it was poſſible for it to be well done, and not to ſuit h [...]m. In the ſ [...]me manner, ſaid he, uſing, accord⯑ing to his c [...]t [...]m, a vulgar compariſon, that an ex⯑ce [...]lent w [...]rkman might brin [...] [...]me magnificent ap⯑par [...], or ſhoes embroidered [...]ith gold, to which [144] nothing would be wanting on his part, but which however, would not ſuit me. He perſiſted, there⯑fore, inflexibly in the reſolution not to demean him⯑ſelf, by begging ſuffrages in the low abject manne [...] common at that time. He employed neither arti⯑fice not the glitter of eloquence; he had recourſ [...] to no entreaties; he brought neither his wife no [...] children to incline the judges in his favour by their ſighs and tears. Nevertheleſs, though he refuſed to make uſe of any other voice but his own in his defence, or to appear before his judges in the ſub⯑miſſive poſture of a ſuppliant, he did not behave in that manner out of pride, or contempt of the tri⯑bunal: it was from a noble and intrepid aſſurance reſulting from greatneſs of ſoul, and a conſciouſneſs of his own innocence; ſo that his defence had no⯑thing weak or timorous in it: his diſcourſe was bold, manly, generous, without paſſion, without emotion, full of the noble ſentiments of a philo⯑ſopher, with no other ornament than that of truth, and brightened throughout with the character and language of innocence. Plato, who was preſent, tranſcribed it afterwards, and, without any addi⯑tion, formed from it the work which he calls the apology of Socrates, one of the moſt maſterly compoſitions of Antiquity. I ſhall here make an extract from it.

Upon the day appointed, the proceedings began in the uſual form; the parties appeared before the judges, and Melitus ſpoke: the worſe his cauſe, and the leſs provided it was with proofs, the more occaſion had he for art and addreſs to cover its weakneſs; he omitted nothing that might render the adverſe party odious; and inſtead of reaſons, which he could not produce, he ſubſtituted the glitter of a pompous declamation. Socrates, in obſerving that he could not tell what impreſſion the diſcourſe of his accuſer had made upon the judges, [145] owns, that, for his own part, he ſcarce knew how it had affected himſelf. Melitus had given ſuch artful colouring and likelihood to his arguments, though there was not one word of truth in all he had advanced.

"I am accuſed, ſaid he, of corrupting the youth, and of inſtilling dangerous maxims into them, as well in regard to the worſhip of the gods, as the rules of government. You know, Athenians, that I never made it my profeſſion to teach, nor can envy, however violent againſt me, reproach me with ever having ſold my inſtructions. I have an undeniable evidence for me in this reſpect, which is my poverty. Always equally ready to communi⯑cate my thoughts to the rich and poor, and to give them leiſure to queſtion or anſwer me, I lend my⯑ſelf to every one who is deſirous of becoming vir⯑tuous; and if, amongſt thoſe who hear me, there are any that prove either good or bad, neither the virtues of the one, nor the vices of the other, to which I have not contributed, are to be aſcribed to me. My whole employment is to perſuade the young and old againſt too much love for the body, for riches, and all other precarious things, of what⯑ever nature they be, and againſt too little regard for the ſoul, which ought to be the object of their affections. For I inceſſantly urge upon you, that virtue does not proceed from riches, but, on the contrary, riches from virtue; and that all the other goods of human life, as well public as private, have their ſource in the ſame principle.

"If to ſpeak in this manner be to corrupt youth, I confeſs, Athenians, that I am guilty, and deſerve to be puniſhed. If what I ſay be not true, it is moſt eaſy to convict me of falſhood. I ſee here a great number of my diſciples; they have only to appear. But, perhaps, their regard for a maſter, who was inſtructed them, will prevent them from [146] declaring againſt me: at leaſt their fathers, bro⯑thers, and uncles cannot, as good relations and good citizens, diſpenſe with their ſtanding forth againſt me, and demanding vengeance upon the corrupter of their ſons, brothers, and nephews. But theſe are the perſons who take upon them my defence, and intereſt themſelves in the ſucceſs of my cauſe.

"Paſs on me, Athenians, what ſentence you pleaſe; but I can neither repent nor change my conduct; I muſt not abandon or ſuſpend a function which God himſelf has impoſed on me. Now he has charged me with the care of inſtructing my fellow-citizens. If, after having faithfully kept all the poſts wherein I was placed by our generals at Potidaea, Amphipolis, and Delium, the fear of death ſhould at this time make me abandon that in which the divine providence has placed me, by command⯑ing me to paſs my life in the ſtudy of philoſophy, for the inſtruction of myſelf and others; this would be a moſt criminal deſertion indeed, and make me highly worthy of being cited before this tribunal as an impious man, who does not believe the gods.

"Should you reſolve to acquit me; for the fu⯑ture, I ſhould not heſitate to make anſwer, Athe⯑nians, I honour and love you; but I ſhall chuſe ra⯑ther to obey God than you; and to my lateſt breath ſhall never renounce my philoſophy, nor ceaſe to exhort and reprove you according to my cuſtom, by ſaying to each of you when you come in my way, ‘"My good friend, and citizen of the moſt famous city in the world for wiſdom and valour, are you not aſhamed to have no other thought than that of amaſſing wealth and acquiring glory, credit, and dignities, whilſt you neglect the treaſures of pru⯑dence, truth, and wiſdom, and take no pains in rendering your ſoul as good and perfect as it is ca⯑pable of being."’

[147]"I am reproached with abject fear and meanneſs of ſpirit, for being ſo buſy in imparting my advice to every one in private, and for having always avoided to be preſent in your aſſemblies, to give my coun⯑ſels to my country. I think I have ſufficiently proved my courage and fortitude, both in the field, where I have borne arms with you, and in the ſenate, where I oppoſed the unjuſt ſentence you pro⯑nounced againſt the ten captains, who had not taken up and interred the bodies of thoſe who were kill⯑ed or drowned in the ſea-fight near the iſland of Arginuſae; and when, upon more than one occaſion, I oppoſed the violent and cruel orders of the thirty tyrants.

"What is it then, that has prevented me from appearing in your aſſemblies? It is that daemon, that voice divine, which you have ſo often heard me mention, and Melitus has taken ſo much pains to ridicule. That ſpirit has attached itſelf to me from my infancy: it is a voice which I never hear, but when it would prevent me from perſiſting in ſomething I have reſolved on; for it never exhorts me to undertake any thing: it is the ſame being that has always oppoſed me when I would have in⯑termeddled in the affairs of the republic, and that with the greateſt reaſon; for I ſhould have been amongſt the dead long ago, had I been concerned in the meaſures of the ſtate, without effecting any thing to the advantage of my country.

"Do not take it ill, I beſeech you, if I ſpeak my thoughts without diſguiſe, and with truth and free⯑dom. Every man, who would generouſly oppoſe a whole people, either amongſt us or elſewhere, and who inflexibly applies himſelf to prevent the vio⯑lation of the laws, and the commiſſion of iniquity in a government, will never do ſo long with impunity. It is abſolutey neceſſary for him, who would con⯑tend for juſtice, if he has any thoughts of living, [148] to remain in a private ſtation, and never to have any concern in public affairs.

"For the reſt, Athenians, if, in the extreme danger I am now in, I do not imitate the behaviour of thoſe, who upon leſs emergencies have implored and ſupplicated their judges with tears, and have brought forth their children, relations, and friends; it is not through pride and obſtinacy, or any con⯑tempt for you, but ſolely for your honour, and for that of the whole city. You ſhould know, that there are amongſt our citizens thoſe who do not re⯑gard death as an evil, and who give that name only to injuſtice and infamy. At my age, and with the reputation, true or falſe, which I have, would it be conſiſtent for me, after all the leſſons I have given upon the contempt of death, to be afraid of it my⯑ſelf, and to belie, in my laſt action, all the prin⯑ciples and ſentiments of my paſt life?

"But without ſpeaking of my fame, which I ſhould extremly injure by ſuch a conduct, I do not think it allowable to entreat a judge, nor to be abſolv⯑ed by ſupplications. He ought to be perſuaded and convinced. The judge does not ſit upon the bench to ſhew favour by violating the laws, but to do juſ⯑tice, in conforming to them. He does not ſwear to diſcharge with impunity whom he pleaſes, but to do juſtice where it is due. We ought not, therefore, to accuſtom you to perjury, nor you to ſuffer yourſelves to be accuſtomed to it; for, in ſo doing, both the one and the other of us equally injure juſtice and religion, and both are criminals.

‘"Do not, therefore, expect from me, Athe⯑nians, that I ſhould have recourſe amongſt you to means which I believe to be neither honeſt nor lawful, eſpecially upon this occaſion, wherein I am ac⯑cuſed of impiety by Melitus; for if I ſhould in⯑fluence you by my prayers, and thereby induce you to violate your oaths, it would be undeniably evi⯑dent, [149] that I teach you not to believe in the gods; and, even in defending and juſtifying myſelf, ſhould furniſh my adverſaries with arms againſt me, and prove that I believe no divinity. But I am very far from ſuch bad thoughts: I am more con [...]inced of the exiſtence of God than my accuſers; and ſo convinced, that I abandon myſelf to God and yet▪ that you may judge of me as you may deem beſt for yourſelves."’

Socrates pronounced this diſcourſe with a firm and intrepid tone: his air, his action, his viſage, expreſſed nothing of the accuſed; he ſeemed the maſter of his judges, from the aſſurance and great⯑neſs of ſoul with which he ſpoke, without however loſing any thing of the modeſty natural to him. But how ſlight ſoever the proofs were againſt him, the faction was powerful enough to find him guilty. By his firſt ſentence, however, he was only con⯑victed of the crimes laid to his charge: but when, by his anſwer, he ſeemed to appeal from their tribunal to that of juſtice and poſterity; when, inſtead of confeſſing himſelf guilty, he demanded rewards and honours from the ſtate, the judges were ſo highly offended, that they condemned him to drink the juice of hemlock, the uſual method of execution at that time in Athens.

Socrates received this ſentence with the utmoſt compoſure. Apollodorus, one of his diſciples, breaking out into invectives and lamentations that his maſter ſhould die innocent: ‘"What, replied Socrates, with a ſmile, would you have me die guilty? Melitus and Anytus may kill, but they cannot hurt me."’

After his ſentence, he ſtill continued with the ſame ſerene and intrepid aſpect, with which he had long enforced virtue, and kept tyrants in awe. When he entered the priſon, which now became the reſidence of probity and virtue, his friends fol⯑lowed him thither, and continued to viſit him [150] during the interval between his condemnation and death, which laſted for thirty days. This long de⯑lay was owing to the following circumſtance: the Athenians ſent every year a ſhip to the iſle of Delos, to offer certain ſacrifices; and it was not permitted to put any perſon to death in the city, from the time that the prieſt of Apollo had crowned the poop of this veſſel as a ſignal of her departure, till ſhe re⯑turned home: ſo that ſentence having been paſſed upon Socrates the day after this ceremony was performed, it became neceſſary to defer the execution of it till the ſhip ſhould arrive at Athens.

In this long interval, death had ſufficient oppor⯑tunities to preſent itſelf before his eyes in all its terrors, and to put his fortitude to proof, not only by the ſevere rigour of a dungeon, and the irons upon his legs, but by the continual proſpect and cruel expectation of an event at which nature al⯑ways recoils. In this ſad condition he did not ceaſe to enjoy that profound tranquillity of mind, which his friends had always admired in him. He entertained them with the ſame cheerfulneſs he had always pre⯑ſerved; and Crito ſays, that the evening before his death, he ſlept as quietly as at any other time. He compoſed alſo an hymn in honour of Apollo and Diana, and turned one of Aeſop's fables into verſe.

So little, indeed, was he apprehenſive of death, that he abſolutely refuſed to eſcape from priſon, when it was in his power. For the day before, or the ſame day that the ſhip arrived, Crito, his intimate friend, came to him, and told him, that it now depended upon himſelf to quit the priſon; that the jailer was gained; that he would find the doors open; and that he might, if he pleaſed, enjoy a ſafe retreat in Theſſaly. Socrates laughed at this propoſal, and aſked him, whether he knew any place out of Attica where people did not die? Crito urged every argument he could think of to [151] induce him to accept of his proffered deliverance. Socrates heard him with great attention, com⯑mended his zeal, and thanked him for his kindneſs. But, before he would give into his opinion, he was for examining whether it was juſt for him to de⯑part out of priſon without the conſent of the Athe⯑nians. The queſtion therefore here was, whether a man condemned to die, though unjuſtly, could, without a crime, elude the execution of the ſen⯑tence that had been paſſed upon him. Socrates held that he could not; and, therefore, nobly re⯑fuſed to eſcape out of priſon. He reverenced the laws of his country, and reſolved to obey them in all things, even in death itſelf.

At length the fatal ſhip returned to Athens, which was as it were the ſignal for the death of Socrates. The next day all his friends, except Plato, who was ſick, repaired to the priſon early in the morn⯑ing. The jailer deſired them to wait a little, be⯑cauſe the eleven magiſtrates, who had the ſuperin⯑tendence of the priſons, were at that time acquaint⯑ing the priſoner, that he was to die the ſame day. Preſently after they entered, and found Socrates, whoſe chains had been taken off, ſitting by Xantippe his wife, who held one of his children in her arms. As ſoon as ſhe perceived them, ſetting up great cries, ſobbing, and tearing her face and hair, ſhe made the priſon reſound with her lamentations, ex⯑claiming, ‘"Oh, my dear Socrates! your friends are come to ſee you this day for the laſt time!"’ He deſired ſhe might be taken way, and ſhe was immediately carried home.

Socrates paſſed the reſt of the day in converſing with his friends, with great cheerfulneſs, upon one of moſt important topics that can engage the atten⯑tion of the human mind, and one at the ſame time the beſt adapted to the occaſion: it was upon the immortality of the ſoul. What gave riſe to this [152] converſation was a queſtion introduced in a manner by chance, whether a true philoſopher ought not to deſire, and take pains to die? This propoſition, taken too literally, implies an opinion, that a phi⯑loſopher may kill himſelf. Socrates ſhews, that nothing can be more unjuſt than this notion; and that man appertaining to God, who formed and placed him with his own hand in the poſt he oc⯑cupies, cannot abandon it without his permiſſion, nor depart from life without his order. What is it then that can induce a philoſopher to be deſirous to die? It can be only the hope of that happineſs which he expects in ano [...]her life; and that hope can be founded only upon the belief of the ſoul's im⯑mortality.

Socrates employed the laſt day of his life in en⯑tertaining his friends upon this great and important ſubject; from which converſation Plato's admirable dialogue, intitled the Thaedon, is wholly taken. He explains to his friends all the arguments for believing the ſoul immortal, and refutes all the ob⯑jections againſt it, which are very nearly the ſame that are made at this day.

When Socrates had done ſpeaking, Crito begged he would give him, and the reſt of his friends, his laſt inſtructions with regard to his children and other affairs, that, by executing them, they might have the conſolation of ſhewing their reſpect for his memory. ‘"I ſhall recommend nothing to you this day, replied Socrates, more than I have al⯑ready done, which is, to take care of yourſelves; you cannot give [...]e and my family a greater ſatis⯑faction."’ Crito having aſked him afterwards in what manner he would wiſh to be buried: ‘"As you pleaſe, ſaid Socrates, if you can lay hold of me, and I eſcape not out of your hands."’ At the ſame time, looking on his friends with a ſmile, ‘"I can never, added he, perſuade Crito, that So⯑crates [153] is he who converſes with you, and arranges the ſeveral parts of his diſcourſe; for he always imagines, that I am what he is going to ſee dead in a little time: he confounds me with my carcaſe, and therefore aſks me how I would be interred."’ On finiſhing theſe words, he roſe up, and went to bathe himſelf in a chamber adjoining. After he came out of the bath, his children were brought to him; for he had three, two very little, and the other grown up. He ſpoke to them for ſome time, gave his orders to the women who took care of them, and then diſmiſſed them. Being returned into his chamber, he laid himſelf down upon his bed.

The ſervant of the eleven entered at the ſame inſtant, and having informed him that the time for drinking the juice of hemlock was come (which was at ſun-ſet) the ſervant was ſo deeply afflicted, that he turned his back, and fell a weeping. ‘"See, ſaid Socrates, the good heart of this man; ſince my impriſonment he has often come to ſee me, and to converſe with me; he is more worthy than all his fellows: how heartily the poor man weeps for me!"’ The fatal cup was now brought. So⯑crates aſked what it was neceſſary for him to do? ‘"Nothing more, replied the ſervant, than, as ſoon as you have drunk off the whole draught, to walk about till you find your legs grow weary, and afterwards lie down upon your bed."’ He took the cup without any emotion, or change in his colour or countenance; and regarding the man with a ſteady and aſſured look: ‘"Well, ſaid he, what ſay you of this drink; may one make a libation of it?"’ Upon being told there was only enough for one doſe: ‘"At leaſt, continued he, we may ſay our prayers to the gods, as it is our duty, and implore them to make our exit from this world, and our laſt ſtage happy, which is what I moſt ardently beg of them."’ After having ſpoke theſe words, he [154] kept ſilence for ſome time, and then drank off the whole draught, with an amazing tranquillity, and ſerenity of aſpect not to be expreſſed, or hardly even conceived.

Till then his friends had been able, though with great difficulty, to refrain from tears; but after he had drunk the potion, they were no longer maſters of themſelves, but wept abundantly. Apol⯑lodorus in particular, who had been in tears almoſt during the whole day, began then to make ſuch loud and bitter lamentations, as pierced the hearts of all that were preſent. Socrates alone remained un⯑moved, and even reproved his friends, though with his uſual mildneſs and good-nature. ‘"What are you doing? ſaid he to them; I wonder at you! Oh! what is become of your virtue? Was it not for this I ſent away the women, that they might not fall into theſe weakneſſes; for I have always heard you ſay that we ought to die peaceably, and bleſſing the gods. Be at eaſe, I beg you, and ſhew more con⯑ſtancy and reſolution."’ He then obliged them to reſtrain their tears.

In the mean time he kept walking to and fro; and when he found his legs grow weary, he lay down upon his back, as he had been directed. The poiſon then operated more and more. When Socrates found it begin to gain upon the heart, un⯑covering his face, which had been covered, no doubt, to prevent any thing from diſturbing him in his laſt moments, ‘"Crito, ſaid he, we owe a cock to Aeſculapius; diſcharge that vow for me, and pray do not forget it."’ Soon after which he breathed his laſt. Crito went to his body, and cloſed his mouth and eyes. Such was the end of Socrates in the firſt year of the ninety-fifth olympiad, and the ſeventieth of his age.

It was not till ſome time after the death of this great man, that the people of Athens perceived [...] [159] as favoured the Spartan cauſe, had taken refuge in the citadel; and till theſe were reduced, Thebes could not be ſaid to be free. But a party of five thouſand foot, and two thouſand horſe, arriving next morning from Athens, and ſeveral bodies of troops coming in at the ſame time from different parts of Boeotia, Pelopidas ſoon found himſelf at the head of ſo powerful an army, that he compelled the garriſon to ſurrender at diſcretion.

The Spartans, though mortified, were by no means diſpirited with this reverſe of fortune. They ſent an army of near twenty thouſand men, under Ageſilaus, to re-eſtabliſh their power at Thebes. The name of the general alone ſtruck terror into the enemy, who were afraid to meet him in the open field, and they therefore took poſſeſſion of a hill in the neighbourhood of the city. Ageſilaus ſent a party to provoke them to come down, and give him battle; and when he ſaw they declined this, he drew out his whole army in order to attack them. But Chabrias, who commanded the Theban mercenaries, ordered his men to preſent themſelves, and keep their ranks cloſe together, with their ſhields laid down at their feet, their ſpears advanced, one leg forward, and the knee upon the half bend. Ageſilaus finding them prepared in this manner to receive him, and that they ſtood as it were in defi⯑ance of him, thought fit to withdraw his army, and contented himſelf with ravaging the country. This was looked upon as an extraordinary ſtra⯑tagem; and Chabrias valued himſelf ſo much upon it, that he procured his ſtatue to be erected in that poſture.

The Spartans had hitherto been deemed unequalled in military proweſs; but they now began to be rival⯑led, and even excelled, in that noble quality, by the Thebans. This particularly appeared in the battle of Tegyra. Pelopidas, the Theban general, had [160] reſolved to attack Orchomenus, which was garri⯑ſoned by the Spartans, and he therefore marched againſt it with a ſmall party of three hundred foot, and forty horſe; but hearing that a large body of Spartans were haſtening to its relief, he thought it beſt to retire. In his retreat he fell in with this reinforcement near Tegyra, and finding it impoſ⯑ſible to avoid a battle, he reſolutely prepared to en⯑gage. After a violent ſtruggle, which was main⯑tained with equal bravery on both ſides, Gorgoleon and Theopompus, the two Spartan generals, fell; and this ſo intimidated their men, that they imme⯑diately retired on either hand, and opened a way for the Thebans to paſs. But a ſafe retreat could not ſatisfy Pelopidas. Encouraged by his late ſucceſs, he drew up his men afreſh, and renewed the battle; and after committing a moſt terrible havock among the enemy, he put them to an entire rout.

This was the moſt ſignal diſgrace the Spartans had ever met with. They had never before been known to yield even to an equal number; but here they were beat by a force not one third of their own. It muſt be acknowledged, however, that theſe three hundred foot were the flower of the Theban army. They were diſtinguiſhed by the name of the ſacred band. They were as remark⯑able for their fidelity to each other, as for their ſtrength and courage; they were linked together by the bonds of common friendſhip, and were ſworn to ſtand by each other to the very laſt ex⯑tremity. Thus united they became invincible, and generally turned the ſcale of victory in their favour for a number of years; till at length they were cut down as one man, by the Macedonian phalanx under Philip.

Pelopidas was not the only, nor even the greateſt general that Thebes produced. Epaminondas, his contemporary and colleague in command, was every [161] way his equal, and, if poſſible, his ſuperior. Theſe two great men lived in the ſtricteſt intimacy and friendſhip; and the only cauſe of rivalſhip between them was, which of them ſhould diſtinguiſh him⯑ſelf moſt in promoting the intereſt, or advancing the glory of their native country. Epaminondas had ſpent the earlier part of his life in the ſtudy of philoſophy, remote from the management of public affairs, either of a civil or military nature, in nei⯑ther of which he would ever engage, until he was overcome by the importunites of his countrymen, who thought they perceived in him, amidſt all his diffidence and ſelf-denial, the ſeeds of many great and excellent qualities. Nor were they deceived in their opinion; for when he was placed as it were by force, and againſt his will, at the head of an army, he ſhewed the world, that an application to the polite arts, ſo far from d ſqualifying a man for a public ſtation, only renders him capable of filling it with more diſtinguiſhed luſtre.

Under theſe two excellent generals, therefore, Thebes was able not only to maintain its own in⯑dependence, but even to threaten the reſt of Greece with ſubjection: and it was probably the apprehen⯑ſion of this laſt event, that had made the Athe⯑nians break off their alliance with the Thebans, and join in a confederacy with the Spartans againſt their former allies. The Spartans had long con⯑ſidered themſelves as the umpires and arbitrators of Greece, and could ill bear a rival in this boaſted pre-eminence. They, therefore, reſolved to hum⯑ble the pride of Thebes, and with this view their general, Cleombrotus, marched towards the fron⯑tiers of Boeotia with a numerous army. But in order to give an air of juſtice to their hoſtilities, they firſt ſent to demand of the Thebans, that they ſhould reſtore the cities they had ſeized to their liberties; that they ſhould rebuild thoſe they had [162] demoliſhed, and make reparation for all the wrongs they had done. To this it was replied, ‘"That the Thebans were accountable to none but heaven for their conduct."’ Nothing now remained on either ſide, but to prepare for action. Epaminondas immediately raiſed all the troops he could, and began his march; his army did not amount to ſix thouſand men, and the enemy had above four times that number. As ſeveral bad omens were urged to prevent his ſetting out, he replied only by repeating a verſe from Homer, importing, that there is but one good omen to fight for one's country. However, to reaſſure the ſoldiers, by nature ſuperſtitious, and whom he per⯑ceived to be diſcouraged, he inſtructed ſeveral per⯑ſons to come from different places, and report au⯑guries and omens in his favour, which revived the ſpirit and hopes of his troops.

Epaminondas had wiſely taken care to ſecure a paſs, which would have ſhortened Cleombrotus's march conſiderably. The latter, after having taken a large compaſs, arrived at Leuctra, a ſmall town of Boeotia, between Plataea and Theſpiae. Both parties conſulted whether they ſhould give battle; which Cleombrotus reſolved to do by the advice of his officers, who ſaid, that if he declined fighting with ſuch a ſuperiority of troops, it would confirm the current report, that he ſecretly favoured the Thebans. And theſe laſt, on their ſide, had an eſſential reaſon for haſtening a battle before the arrival of the troops, which the enemy daily ex⯑pected. However, the ſix generals, who formed the council of war, being equally divided in their ſentiments, the ſeventh, who was Pelopidas, came in very good time to join the three that were for fighting: and his opinion carrying the queſtion, it was at laſt determined to engage.

The two armies, as we have already ſaid, were very unequal in number. The Lacedaemonians [163] amounted to twenty-four thouſand foot, and ſixteen hundred horſe. The Thebans had only ſix thouſand foot and four hundred horſe; but all of them choice troops, animated by the love of glory, and reſolved either to conquer or die. The Lacedaemonian cavalry, compoſed of men picked up by chance, without valour, and ill diſciplined, were as much inferior to their enemies in courage, as ſuperior in number. The infantry could not be depended on, except the Lacedaemonians; the allies having en⯑gaged in the war with reluctance, becauſe they did not approve the motive of it, and being beſides diſſatisfied with the Spartans. The ability of the generals alone ſupplied the place of great armies, eſpecially that of the Theban commander, who was the moſt accompliſhed ſoldier of his time; and he was nobly ſupported by Pelopidas, who was then at the head of the ſacred band.

Upon the day of battle, the two armies drew up on a plain. Cleombrotus was upon the right, at the head of the Lacedaemonians, in whom he moſt confided, and whoſe files were twelve feet deep. The left wing, conſiſting of the allies, was com⯑manded by Archidamus, the ſon of Ageſilaus. Epaminondas took poſt in the left of his army, and was oppoſed to Cleombrotus, whom he was determined to attack, convinced that if once he could break the Lacedaemonian phalanx, the reſt of the army would ſoon be put to flight.

The action began with the cavalry, which were p [...]ſted on both ſides in the front of the left wing. As the Thebans were better mounted, and braver troops than the Lacedaemonian horſe, the latter were ſoon broke, and driven upon the infantry, which they put into ſome confuſion. Epaminondas, following his horſe cloſe, marched ſwiftly up to Cleombrotus, and fell upon his phalanx with all the weight of his heavy battalion. The latter, to make [164] a diverſion, detached a body of troops, with orders to take Epaminondas in flank, and to ſurround him▪ Pelopidas, upon ſight of that movement, advanced with incredible ſpeed and boldneſs, at the head of the ſacred band, to prevent the enemy's deſign, and flanked Cleombrotus himſelf; who, by that ſudden and unexpected attack, was put into diſorder▪ The battle was very fierce and obſtinate; and while Cleombrotus could act, the victory continued in ſuſpence, and declared for neither party. But when he fell dead with his wounds, the Thebans to complete the victory, and the Lacedaemonians, to avoid the ſhame of abandoning the body of their king, redoubled their efforts, and a great ſlaughter enſued on both ſides. The Spartans fought with ſo much fury about the body, that at length they gained their point, and carried it off. Animated by ſo glorious an advantage, they propoſed to return to the charge, which would perhaps have proved ſuc⯑ceſsful, had the allies ſeconded their ardour: but theſe laſt, ſeeing the Lacedaemonian phalanx broken, and believing all loſt, eſpecially when they heard that the king was dead, took to flight, and drew the reſt of the army after them. The Thebans re⯑mained maſters of the field, erected a trophy, and permitted the enemy to bury their dead.

The Lacedaemonians had never received ſuch a terrible blow. The moſt bloody defeat, till then, had ſcarce ever coſt them more than four or five hundred of their citizens. Here they loſt four thouſand men, of whom one thouſand were Lace⯑daemonians, and four hundred Spartans, out of ſeven hundred who were in the battle. The Thebans had only three hundred men killed, among whom were four of their citizens.

It is remarkable, that when the news of this de⯑feat was brought to Sparta, the Ephori would not ſuffer the public games, which were then celebrating, [165] to be interrupted. Whether this proceeded from an affectation of indifference as if they wiſhed to repreſent their loſs as but trifling, and were deſirous of concealing the real greatneſs of it from the peo⯑ple; or that luxury and diſſipation had then made a conſiderable progreſs even in Sparta itſelf; it is dif⯑ficult, at this diſtance of time, to determine. Next day, however, the loſs of each particular family being known, the fathers and relations of thoſe who had fallen in battle, went to the temples to thank the gods, and congratulated each other upon their glory and good fortune, whilſt the rela⯑tions of thoſe, who had eſcaped, were overwhelmed with grief and affliction.

But there was another point to be determined with regard to theſe laſt. They were, by the law, to be degraded from all honour, and rendered in⯑famous; inſomuch, that it was a diſgrace to inter⯑marry with them: they were to appear publicly in mean and dirty habits, with patched and party-coloured garments, and to go half ſhaved; and whoever met them in the ſtreets, might inſult and beat them, without their daring to make any re⯑ſiſtance. This was ſo ſevere a law, and ſuch num⯑bers had on this occaſion incurred the penalties of it, many of whom were of great families and in⯑tereſt, that they apprehended the execution of it might excite ſome public commotion; beſides that theſe citizens, ſuch as they were, could very ill be ſpar [...]d at this time, when they wanted to recruit the army. Under this difficulty, they gave Age⯑ſilaus a power even over the laws, to diſpenſe with them, to abrogate them, or to enact ſuch new ones as the preſent emergency required. He would not aboliſh or alter the law. He only made a public de⯑claration, that it ſhould lie dormant for that ſingle day, but revive and be in full force again on the morrow; and, by that expedient, he ſaved the ci⯑tizens from infamy.

[166]It was not long before the Spartans felt the conſequences of this dreadful overthrow. Num⯑bers of Greek cities, that had hitherto remained neuter, now declared in favour of the Thebans, and increaſed their army to the amount of ſeventy thouſand men. With this mighty force Epami⯑nondas entered Laconia, and over-ran the open country. He did not, however, attempt any thing againſt Sparta itſelf; but he re-inſtated the Ar⯑cadians in all their ancient rights and privileges, of which they had been deprived by the Spartans, and he enabled them to build a new city, which, from the name of the old one, was called Meſſenia.

So jealous were the ancient Greeks of every the leaſt encroachment on their liberty, that no action, however great or meritorious in other reſpects, was ſufficient to atone for it. This was ſignally ex⯑emplified in the caſe of Pelopidas and Epaminondas, who, upon their return home, inſtead of being re⯑cieved as heroes and conquerors, were ſummoned as criminals before a court of juſtice, to anſwer for their conduct in having retained their command four months beyond the time limited by law. This offence was capital by the laws of Thebes; and thoſe, who ſtood up for the conſtitution, were zeal⯑ous for having it adhered to on the preſent occa⯑ſion. Pelopidas was the firſt cited before the tri⯑bunal. He defended himſelf with leſs ſtrength and greatneſs of mind, than was expected from a man of his character, by nature warm and fiery. That valour, which was haughty and intrepid in fight, forſook him before his judges. His air and diſ⯑courſe, which had ſomething timid and low in it, denoted a man who was afraid of death, and did not in the leaſt incline the judges in his favour, who, nevertheleſs, acquitted him, though not without difficulty.

[167]Epaminondas, on the contrary, appeared with all the confidence of conſcious innocence. Inſtead of juſtifying himſelf, he enumerated his actions: he related, in haughty terms, in what manner he had ravaged Laconia, re-eſtabliſhed Meſſenia, and de⯑livered the Arcadians. He concluded with ſaying, that he ſhould die with pleaſure, if the Thebans would relinquiſh the ſole glory of thoſe actions to him, and declare that he had done them by his own authority, and without their participation. All the voices were in his favour, and he returned from his trial as he uſed to do from battle, with glory and univerſal applauſe. Such dignity has true valour, that it in a manner ſeizes the admira⯑tion of mankind by force. This bold and manly deportment had ſo good an effect, that his enemies declined any further proſecution; and he and his colleague were honourably acquitted. His enemies, however, jealous of his glory, were determined to mortify him, and with this view, procured him to be elected the city ſcavenger; but he accepted the place with thanks, and declared, that, inſtead of thinking himſelf diſgraced by the office, he would render it honourable by his manner of diſcharging it.

In the mean time, the Spartans, ſtruck with conſternation at their late defeat, applied to the Athenians for ſuccour; and that people, notwith⯑ſtanding their jealouſy of their old rivals, engaged to aſſiſt them with all their forces. They likewiſe had recourſe to the Perſian king for the ſame purpoſe; but Pelopidas, undertaking an embaſſay to the court of that prince, prevailed upon him to re⯑main neuter.

Soon after Pelopidas was ſent with an army againſt Alexander, king of Pherae, one of the moſt blood-thirſty tyrants that ever exiſted, and who had, for ſome time, given great diſturbance to the [168] whole country of Theſſaly. This ſavage had cauſed ſeveral people to be buried alive, and others to be dreſſed in bears and boars ſkins, and then baited them with dogs, or ſhot at them for diver⯑ſion. This monſter, however, Pelopidas compelled to ſubmiſſion, and even endeavoured, by mild uſage, to reform the natural brutality of his temper; but Alexander, inſtead of being grateful for the ſalu⯑tary counſels that were given him, reſolved to take the firſt opportunity of being revenged on his be⯑nefactor. Nor was it long before ſuch an occaſion offered; for Pelopidas being appointed ambaſſador to Alexander, was treacherouſly ſeized upon, and made priſoner, contrary to all the laws of nations and humanity. It was in vain that the Thebans com⯑plained of this violation of laws; it was in vain they ſent a powerful army, but headed by indifferent generals, to revenge the inſult: their army returned without effect, and Alexander treated his priſoner with great ſeverity. It was reſerved for Epami⯑nondas to bring the tyrant to reaſon. Entering Theſſalia at the head of a powerful army, his name ſpread ſuch terror, that the tyrant offered terms of ſubmiſſion, and delivered up Pelopidas from priſon.

Pelopidas was ſcarce ſet at liberty, when he re⯑ſolved to puniſh the tyrant for his perfidy and breach of faith. He led a body of troops againſt him to a place called Cynocephalus, where a bloody battle enſued, in which the Thebans were victorious, but Pelopidas was unfortunately ſlain; and his countrymen conſidered thoſe ſucceſſes as very dearly earned, which were purchaſed at the expence of his life. His death was equally lamented by the Thebans and Theſſalians, who begged and obtained the honour of performing his funeral rites, which were very grand and magnificent. Alexander him⯑ſelf was ſoon after killed by his wife Thebe, and her three brothers, who, long ſhocked at his cruel⯑ties, [169] had reſolved to rid the world of ſuch a monſter. It is ſaid, that his whole palace was every night filled with guards, except his bed-chamber, which was an upper room, guarded by a dog, and aſcended by a ladder. Thebe allured away the dog, and covered the ſteps of the ladder with wool, to pre⯑vent noiſe; and then her three brothers aſcending, one of them ſeized him by the feet, and another by the hair, and the third ſtabbed him to the heart.

In the mean time, the war between the Thebans and Spartans was carried on with unabated vigour. The Theban troops were commanded by their fa⯑vourite general Epaminondas; Ageſilaus, the only man in Greece, then capable of oppoſing him, was at the head of the Spartans. The firſt attempt of Epaminondas in this campaign ſhewed his great abilities, and his ſkill in the art of war. Hearing that Ageſilaus had begun his march for Mantinea, and had left but few citizens to defend Sparta at home, he marched directly thither by night, with a deſign to take the city by ſurprize, as it had neither walls nor troops to protect it. But luckily Ageſi⯑laus had got ſcent of his deſign, and diſpatched one of his horſe to apprize the city of its danger; ſoon after which he himſelf arrived with a powerful ſuccour: and he had ſcarce entered the town, when the Thebans were ſeen croſſing the Eurotas, and ad⯑vancing againſt the city. Epaminondas, finding that his deſign was diſcovered, thought it below his character to retire without making ſome attempt. He therefore employed valour inſtead of ſtratagem, and attacking the city at ſeveral quarters, penetrated as far as the public place, and made himſelf maſter of that part of Sparta, which lay upon the hither ſide of the river. Ageſilaus exerted himſelf with greater activity than could have been expected from one of his years. He ſaw well that it was not now a time, as before, to ſpare himſelf, and to [170] act only upon the defenſive; but that he had need of all his courage and intrepidity to repel ſuch an aſſailant. His ſon, Archidamus, at the head of the Spartan youth, behaved with incredible bravery wherever the danger was greateſt; and, with his ſmall troop, ſtopped the enemy, and made head againſt them on all ſides.

A Spartan youth, named Iſadas, filled not only his countrymen, but even the enemy with admiration of his valour. He had a beautiful face, an elegant ſhape, an advantageous ſtature, and was juſt in the prime of youth; he had neither armour nor clothes upon his body, which ſhone with oil. Upon the firſt alarm he ran out of his houſe with a ſpear in one hand, and a ſword in the other, and ruſhing into the thickeſt of the enemy, he bore down all before him, laying numbers dead at his feet, with⯑out himſelf receiving the leaſt wound. Whether the enemy were confounded at the ſight, as think⯑ing him ſomething more than human, or whether, ſays Plutarch, the gods took pleaſure in preſerving him on account of his extraordinary valour, re⯑mains a queſtion. His gallantry, however, was ſo much admired, that the Ephori decreed him a gar⯑land; but they afterwards fined him a thouſand drach⯑mas, for having gone out to battle without armour.

Epaminondas having failed in his deſign upon Sparta, was determined to ſtrike ſome other blow that might compenſate for his miſcarriage. Hear⯑ing, therefore, that, in order to protect Sparta, al [...] the troops had been withdrawn from Mantinea, hi [...] reſolved to march thither without delay. But a [...] he intended to attack the town, he diſpatched [...] troop of horſe, to view its ſituation, and to clea [...] the fields of ſtragglers. A little, however, befor [...] they reached Mantinea, an army of ſix thouſan [...] Athenian auxiliaries arrived by ſea; who, withou [...] allowing either themſelves or their horſes any re⯑freſhment, [171] ruſhed out of the city, and attacked and defeated the Theban horſe. In the mean time, Epaminondas was advancing with his whole army, with the enemy cloſe upon his rear. Finding it impoſſible to accompliſh his purpoſe, before he was overtaken, he determined to halt and give them battle. He had now got within a ſhort way of the town, which has had the honour of giving its name to the conflict of that day; a conflict the moſt ſplendid, and the beſt conteſted, that is to be found in the hiſtory of Greece, or perhaps in that of any other country. The Greeks had never fought among themſelves with more numerous armies: the Lacedaemonians amounted to above twenty thouſand foot, and two thouſand horſe; the Thebans to thirty thouſand foot, and three thouſand horſe.

Epaminondas marched in the ſame order of battle in which he intended to fight, that he might not be obliged, when he came up with the enemy, to loſe, in diſpoſing of his army, a precious time which cannot be recovered. He did not march directly, and with his front to the enemy, but in a column upon the hills, with his left wing foremoſt, as if he did not intend to fight that day. When he was over againſt them, at a quarter of a league's diſtance, he made the troops halt, and lay down their arms, as if he deſigned to encamp there. The enemy, in effect, were deceived by this ſtep; and reckoning no longer upon a battle, they quitted their arms, diſperſed themſelves about the camp, and ſuffered that ardour to cool, which the near approach of a battle is wont to kindle in the hearts of ſoldiers.

Epaminondas took advantage of this ſupine con⯑duct of the enemy. By ſuddenly wheeling his troops to the right, he changed his column into a line; and having drawn out his choice troops, he made them double their files upon the front of his [172] left wing, in order to add to its ſtrength, and ena⯑ble it to attack in a point the Lacedaemonian pha⯑lanx, which, by the movement he had made, faced it directly. He ordered the center and right wing of his army to move very ſlow, and to halt before they came up with the enemy, that he might not hazard the event of the battle upon troops of which he had no great opinion.

He expected to decide the victory with that body of choſen troops which he commanded in perſon, and which he had diſpoſed in a column to attack the enemy in the form of a wedge. He was perſuaded, that if he could penetrate the Lacedaemonian pha⯑lanx, in which the enemy's chief ſtrength lay, he ſhould find it no difficult matter to rout the reſt of the army, by charging upon the right and left with his victorious troops.

To prevent the Athenians in the left wing from coming to the ſupport of their right againſt his in⯑tended attack, he made a detachment of his horſe and foot advance out of the line, and poſted them upon a riſing ground, in readineſs to flank the Athe⯑nians, if they ſhould venture to advance to ſuſtain their right.

After having drawn up his army in this manner, he moved on to charge the enemy with the whole weight of his column. They were greatly ſur⯑prized when they ſaw Epaminondas advancing to⯑wards them in this order, and immediately flew to their arms, bridled their horſes, and made all the haſte they could to their ranks.

While Epaminondas was marching againſt the enemy, the cavalry, that covered his flank on the left, the beſt at that time in Greece, conſiſting en⯑tirely of Thebans and Theſſalians, had orders to attack the enemy's horſe. The conteſt here was violent, but not long. The Lacedaemonian horſe were ſoon repulſed, and obliged to take refuge be⯑hind [173] their infantry. In the mean time, Epami⯑nondas, with his body of foot, had charged the Lacedaemonian phalanx. The troops fought on both ſides with incredible ardour▪ both the Thebans and Lacedaemonians being reſolved to periſh, rather than yield the glory of arms to their rivals. They began fighting with their ſpears; but theſe being ſoon broken in the fury of the combat, they charged each other ſword in hand. The reſiſtance was equally obſtinate, and the ſlaughter very great on both ſides. Deſpiſing danger, and deſirous only of diſtinguiſhing themſelves by the gallantry of their conduct, the men choſe rather to die in their ranks, than loſe a ſtep of their ground.

This terrible ſlaughter having continued for ſome time, without the victory inclining to either ſide, Epaminondas, to turn the ſcale in his own favour, determined to make an extraordinary effort in per⯑ſon, without regard to the danger of his own life. He formed, therefore, a troop of the braveſt and moſt reſolute about him; and putting himſelf at the head of them, made a vigorous charge upon the enemy, where the fight was hotteſt, and wounded the general of the Lacedaemonians with the firſt javelin he threw. The troops, by his example, having wounded or killed all that ſtood in their way, broke and penetrated the phalanx. The Lacedae⯑monians, diſmayed by the preſence of Epaminondas, and overpowered by the weight of that intrepid party, were obliged to give ground. The bulk of the Theban army, animated by their general's ex⯑ample and ſucceſs, drove back the enemy upon their right and left, and made great havoc among them. But ſome troops of the Spartans, perceiv⯑ing that Epaminondas was carried away by his ardour, ſuddenly rallied, and returning to the charge, overwhelmed him with a ſhower of javelins. While he kept off part of thoſe darts, ſhunned ſome of [174] them, fenced off others, and was fighting with the moſt heroic valour, a Spartan, named Calli⯑crates, gave him a mortal wound with a javelin in his breaſt, acroſs his cuiraſs. The wood of the javelin being broke off, and the iron head remain⯑ing in the wound, the torment was intolerable, and he fell immediately. The battle began around him with redoubled fury; the one ſide exerting their utmoſt efforts to take him alive, and the other to ſave him. The Thebans at laſt gained their point, and carried him off, after having put the enemy to flight.

After ſeveral different movements, and alternate loſſes and advantages, the troops on both ſides ſtood ſtill, and reſted upon their arms; and the trumpets of the two armies, as if by mutual conſent, ſounded the retreat at the ſame time. Each party pretended to the victory, and erected a trophy; the Thebans, becauſe they had defeated the right wing, and re⯑mained maſters of the field; the Athenians, becauſe they had cut the general's detachment in pieces: and from this point of honour, both ſides at firſt refuſed to aſk leave to bury their dead; which, with the ancients, was confeſſing their defeat. The Lacedaemonians, however, ſent firſt to demand that permiſſion; after which, the reſt had no thoughts but of paying the laſt duties to the ſlain.

In the mean time, Epaminondas had been car⯑ried into the camp. The ſurgeons, after having examined the wound, declared, that he would ex⯑pire as ſoon as the head of the dart was drawn out of it. Theſe words filled all that were preſent with the deepeſt affliction, who were inconſolable on ſeeing ſo great a man upon the point of expiring. For him, the only concern he expreſſed was about his arms, and the fate of the battle. When they ſhewed him his ſhield, and aſſured him that the Thebans had gained the victory, turning towards [175] his friends with a calm and ſerene air, ‘"All then is well,"’ ſaid he; and ſoon after, upon drawing the head of the javelin out of his body, he expired in the arms of victory.

As the glory of Thebes roſe with Epaminondas, ſo it fell with him; and he is, perhaps, the only inſtance of one man's being able to inſpire his countrymen with a love of military fame, without having had a predeceſſor, or leaving an imitator of his example.

The battle of Mantinea was followed by a peace, which was ratified by all the ſtates of Greece, ex⯑cept Sparta; the conditions of it were, that every ſtate ſhould retain what they poſſeſſed, and hold it independent of any other power. Nothing remark⯑able happened for ſome time after this, except an expedition of Ageſilaus into Egypt, whither he went to aſſiſt Tachos, who had uſurped the throne of that kingdom. Upon his arrival in Egypt, every one was eager to ſee a man, who had ac⯑quired ſo ſplendid a reputation. Accordingly great multitudes of people flocked to the place where he was; but how much were they ſurprized, when, inſtead of an elegant, portly figure, they found a little old man, lying on the graſs, with his clothes thread-bare, and his hair uncombed! They were ſtill more aſtoniſhed, upon their offering him pre⯑ſents of perfumes, and other Egyptian luxuries: ‘"Give theſe things," ſaid he, "to my helots; Spartan freemen know not how to uſe them."’ Being ill uſed by Tachos, whom he found very un⯑grateful, he joined Nectanebus, his nephew, and raiſed him to the throne: and when he, in his turn, was oppoſed by another competitor, Ageſilaus found means to defeat all the attempts of this laſt, and left Nectanebus in poſſeſſion of the ſupreme power. As a reward of his ſervices, he received a preſent of two hundred and thirty talents of ſilver; and was [176] treated, beſides, with every mark of gratitude and reſpect. In returning home he was driven into the haven of Menelaus, which lies upon the coaſt of Africa, where he was attacked with an acute diſ⯑eaſe, and carried off, being then upwards of eighty years of age, forty of which he had been king.

The character of Ageſilaus was a compound of very different and even oppoſite qualities. He was of a little ſtature, and lame of a leg; and indeed, he was ſo fully convinced of the meanneſs of his appearance, that he would never ſuffer any ſtatue of him to be erected during his life; and he ſtrictly prohibited the Spartans from erecting any after his death. He always paid the utmoſt deference to the ſenate and the Ephori, by which means he had it in his power to execute all his deſigns without any oppoſition. A rigid obſerver of the old Spartan plainneſs and frugality, he was capable of enduring the greateſt labour and fatigue. The love of his chil⯑dren was a diſtinguiſhed feature in his character. One day, when a friend found him riding with them on a hobby-horſe, and expreſſed ſome ſurprize, ‘"Don't," ſaid he, "ſay one word of this, till you yourſelf become a father."’ His generoſity to his enemies was only exceeded by his partiality to his friends; of the latter of which he gave a remark⯑able proof in his requeſt to Idrieus, prince of Caria, in favour of Nicias: ‘"If Nicias, ſaid he, be innocent, acquit him on his own account; if guilty, acquit him on mine; in any event, acquit him."’ He had a very ſingular way of deceiving his enemies. When about to enter upon a march, he took care to publiſh the true account of his in⯑tended route, and time of marching; by which he generally had the pleaſure of hearing, that they had moved on a different day, and taken a different road from that which they wiſhed to take. So high was his reputation both for courage and con⯑duct, [177] that the Spartans appointed him not only their general, but likewiſe their admiral; a mark of honour never conferred upon any one before.

Of all the Greeks, the Athenians were the moſt remarkable for their love of the polite arts, and particularly for their attachment to the ſtage. This laſt paſſion, indeed, they now carried to ſuch an extravagant length, that, according to Plutarch, it coſt more to repreſent ſome of the famous pieces of Sophocles and Euripides, than it had done to carry on the war againſt the Barbarians. And, in order to ſupport this charge, they ſeized upon the fund which had been ſet apart for the war, with a pro⯑hibition, upon pain of death, ever to adviſe the ap⯑plying of it to any other purpoſe. They not only reverſed this decree, but went as far the other way, making it death to propoſe the reſtoring this fund to the uſes for which it had been originally raiſed. It is not to be ſuppoſed, that the other ſtates of Greece would pay much reſpect to a people that were thus immerſed in luxury and diſſipation; and accordingly many of thoſe, who had hitherto been in alliance with the Athenians, now commenced hoſtilities againſt them. [A. J. C. 358.This war, however, which was ſoon ter⯑minated, was not attended with any remarkable event, except that Chabrias, the Athenian general, at the ſiege of Chio, preferred his honour to his life, and choſe to periſh in his veſſel rather than abandon her. In the mean time, a power was growing up in Greece, hitherto unobſerved, but now too conſpicuous and formidable to be over⯑looked in the general picture: this was that of the Macedonians, a people hitherto obſcure, and in a manner barbarous; and who, though warlike and hardy, had never yet preſumed to intermeddle in the affairs of Greece: but now ſeveral circum⯑ſtances concurred to raiſe them from that obſcurity, [178] and to involve them in meaſures, which, by de⯑grees, wrought a thorough change in the ſtate of Greece. It will be neceſſary, therefore, to begin with a ſhort account of their power and origin, before we enter into a detail of that conſpicuous part, which they afterwards performed on the theatre of the world.

CHAP. XII. FROM THE BIRTH TO THE DEATH OF PHILIP, KING OF MACEDON.

THE firſt king, who is mentioned, with any degree of certainty, to have reigned in Mace⯑donia, was Caranus, by birth an Argive, and ſaid to be the ſixteenth in deſcent from Hercules. It was upon this foundation, that Philip afterwards grounded his pretenſions to be of the race of Hercules, and aſſumed to himſelf divine honours. Caranus is commonly ſuppoſed to have led forth a body of his countrymen, by the advice of the oracle, into thoſe parts where he ſettled, and to have made himſelf king. Caranus having, accord⯑ing to the general account, reigned twenty-eight years, the ſucceſſion was continued after him to the times we are now treating of. But there is very little worth notice recorded of theſe kings, who were generally employed in defending them⯑ſelves againſt the incurſions of their neighbours. And as to their domeſtic affairs, they were re⯑markable only for the frequent murders and uſur⯑pations which happened in the royal family.

Amyntas, the father of Philip, left two elder ſons, Alexander and Perdiccas, both of whom poſ⯑ſeſſed the throne in their turn. The ſecond of theſe left a ſon, named Amyntas, who, while yet an [179] infant, ſucceeded his father; but the ſtate of public affairs requiring a prince of mature years, Amyntas was ſoon depoſed, and his uncle Philip advanced in his room.

Philip began his reign in the twenty-fourth year of his age, and the firſt year of the 105th olympiad. He had received a conſiderable part of his educa⯑tion at Thebes, whither he had been carried, in his youth, as a hoſtage; and he there acquired, under Epaminondas, that intimate acquaintance with the art of war, as it was then conducted, which he afterwards diſplayed ſo ſignally during the whole courſe of his reign. He had now, indeed, oc⯑caſion for all his activity and addreſs, for he was ſurrounded with almoſt as many enemies as he had neighbours. The Illyrians, who had ſeized a part of his dominions, were preparing to attack him with a great army; the Paeonians were making daily incurſions into his territories: and he had, at the ſame time, the misfortune to have two pre⯑tenders to his crown; Pauſanias, the Lacedaemo⯑nian, who was ſupported by the Thracians; and Argaeus, whom the Athenians had undertaken to aſſiſt.

Under theſe circumſtances, with ſo many ene⯑mies on his hands at once, and that before he was well ſettled on the throne, his firſt care was to make ſure of his own people, to gain their affections, and to raiſe their ſpirits; for they were very much diſheartened, having loſt above four thouſand men in a battle they had lately fought with the Illyrians. He ſucceeded in theſe points by his dexterity and addreſs, and ſtill more by the force of his elo⯑quence, of which he was a great maſter. His next ſtep was to train and exerciſe them, and reform their diſcipline; and it was at this time, that he in⯑ſtituted the famous Macedonian phalanx, which did ſo much execution. It was an improvement upon [180] the ancient method of fighting among the Grecians, who generally drew upon their foot ſo cloſe, as to ſtand the ſhock of the enemy without being broken.

The complete phalanx was thought to contain above ſixteen thouſand men; though it was alſo taken in general for any company or party of ſol⯑diers, and frequently for the whole body of foot. But this of Philip's invention is deſcribed by Poly⯑bius to be an oblong ſquare, conſiſting of eight thouſand pike men, ſixteen deep, and five hundred in front; the men ſtanding ſo cloſe together, that the pikes of the fifth rank were extended three feet beyond the line of the front. The reſt, whoſe diſ⯑tance from the front made their pikes uſeleſs, reſted upon the ſhoulders of thoſe who ſtood before them, and ſo looking them together in file, preſſed forward to ſupport and puſh on the former ranks, by which means the aſſault was rendered more violent, and almoſt irreſiſtible.

Philip having ſettled his affairs at home, and compromiſed all differences with ſuch of his enemies as lay neareſt to him, turned his arms againſt the Athenians, who were marched up to Methone, to aſſiſt Argaeus. He gave them battle, and defeated them; and the death of Argaeus, who was killed in the action, put an end to that diſpute: for he permitted the Athenians, when they were in his power, to return home. This inſtance of his mo⯑deration gained ſo far upon them, that they ſoon after concluded a peace with him; which yet he obſerved no longer, than was neceſſary for ſecuring the other part of his dominions.

Accordingly, he marched northward, and ſub⯑dued firſt the Paeonians, and afterwards the Illy⯑rians, the latter of whom he likewiſe compelled to reſtore all the conqueſts they had made in Mace⯑donia. He next made himſelf maſter of Amphi⯑polis, which lay upon the river Strymon, and was [181] the key of his dominions on that quarter. This place he had ſeized in the beginning of his reign, but afterwards abandoned it in compliment to the Athenians, to whom it originally belonged; but now being leſs apprehenſive of the diſpleaſure of that people, he made an entire conqueſt of it, and added it to his dominions. The Athenians, how⯑ever, themſelves, he always treated with great re⯑ſpect, whenever they fell into his hands, as he par⯑ticularly did upon his taking poſſeſſion of Pydna and Potidaea; for this laſt place being garriſoned by the Athenians, he ſent them home ſafe with many marks of civility.

Proceeding ſtill in his encroachments upon his neighbours, he ſeized the city of Crenides, which had been built only two years before, and he now called it Philippi, from his own name. It was here that he diſcovered a gold mine, which every year produced an hundred and forty four-thouſand pounds ſterling. This, which was an immenſe ſum for that age, was much more ſerviceable than fleets and armies in fighting his battles; and he ſeldom failed to make uſe of it in every negocia⯑tion. It is ſaid, that conſulting the oracle of Del⯑p [...]os, concerning the ſucceſs or an intended expe⯑dition, he received for anſwer, ‘"That with ſilver ſpears he ſhould conquer all things."’ He took the [...]int, and, by his ſucceſs, verified the prediction of the oracle: indeed, he was leſs proud of the ſucceſs of a battle, than of a negociation; well knowing, that his ſoldiers and generals ſhared in the former, whereas the honour of the latter was all his own.

But a larger field was now opening to his ambi⯑tion. The mutual diviſions of the ſtates of Greece were at no time wholly cemented, and they now [...]r [...]ke out upon a very particular occaſion. The firſt cauſe of the rupture (which was afterwards called the ſacred war) aroſe from the Phocians hav⯑ing [182] ploughed up a piece of ground belonging to the temple of Apollo at Delphos. Againſt this all the neighbouring ſtates exclaimed as a ſacrilege: they were cited before the council of the Amphictyons, who had the care of ſacred matters; and they were caſt, and fined in a very heavy ſum. This the Pho⯑cians were unable to pay; they refuſed to ſubmit to the decree; they alledged, that the care and pa⯑tronage of the temple anciently belonged to them; and to prove this, they quoted a precedent from Homer.

Philomelus, one of their citizens, had the chief hand in exciting them to take up arms; he raiſed their ardour, and was appointed their general. He firſt applied himſelf to the Spartans, who had like⯑wiſe been fined by the Amphictyons, for having ſeized the Cadmea after the battle of Leuctra. For this reaſon they were very well diſpoſed to join him, but did not yet think proper to declare themſelves openly: nevertheleſs, they encouraged him ſecretly, and ſupplied him with money; by which means he raiſed troops, and, without much difficulty, got poſſeſſion of the temple. The principal oppoſition he met with in the neighbourhood was from the Locrians; but having defeated them, he eraſed the decree of the Amphictyons, which was inſcribed on the pillars of the temple. Willing, however, to give a colour to his proceedings, he thought it convenient to conſult the oracle, and to procure an anſwer in his favour. But when he applied to the prieſteſs for that purpoſe, ſhe refuſed to officiate, until being intimidated by his threats, ſhe told him, the God left him at liberty to act as he pleaſed; which he looked upon as a good anſwer, and as ſuch took care to publiſh it.

The Amphictyons meeting a ſecond time, a re⯑ſolution was taken to declare war againſt the Pho⯑cians. Moſt of the ſtates of Greece engaged in [183] this quarrel, and eſpouſed the cauſe of the one party or the other. The Thebans, the Locrians, the Theſſalians, and ſeveral other neighbouring ſtates, declared in favour of the God; whilſt Athens, Sparta, and ſome other cities of Peloponneſus, joined with the Phocians. This war, which laſted for ſome time, was not remarkable for any thing elſe, except that which diſtinguiſhes, or rather diſ⯑graces all religious wars, I mean, the cruelties exer⯑ciſed by both parties. The Thebans, having taken ſome priſoners, condemned them all to die, as ſacrilegious wretches; and the Phocians in their turn, by way of repriſal, inflicted the ſame puniſh⯑ment on their captives. Nay, Philomelus, their leader, being attacked on an eminence, and finding it impoſſible to eſcape, threw himſelf headlong from a rock, rather than fall alive into the hands of his enemies. He was ſucceeded by Oenomar⯑chus.

Philip did not chuſe to interfere in this quarrel, which it was rather his intereſt to encourage than ſuppreſs; being well pleaſed to ſee the different ſtates of Greece weaken one another, and thus render them all an eaſier prey to him when he ſhould be at leiſure to attack them.

It was juſt on the concluſion of this ſacred war, that Alexander the Great was born. In his earlier years he had ſeveral maſters to teach him muſic, and other ſuperficial accompliſhments: but when he grew up, his father wrote to Ariſtotle, the moſt celebrated philoſopher of his time, begging he would come, and undertake the education of his ſon, and inſpire him with thoſe ſentiments of mag⯑nanimity and juſtice, which every great man ought to poſſeſs, and which no other perſon was ſo ca⯑pable of inculcating. He added, ‘"I return thanks to the gods, not ſo much for having given me a [184] ſon, as for having given him to me, in the age in in which Ariſtotle lives."’

Being deſirous of reducing Thrace under his dominion, he determined to make himſelf maſter of Methone, which obſtructed his deſigns in that quar⯑ter. He accordingly beſieged it, obliged it to ſurrender, and levelled it with the ground. He loſt one of his eyes before this place by a very ſin⯑gular accident. After of Amphipolis had offered him his ſervices, telling him that he was ſo excel⯑lent a markſman, that he could bring down birds in their moſt rapid flight. ‘"Well," ſaid Philip, "I will take you into my ſervice, when I make war upon ſtarlings;"’ which anſwer ſtung the archer to the quick. He immediately threw himſelf into the town, and let fly an arrow, on which was written, ‘"To Philip's right eye."’ This carried a moſt cruel proof of his ſkill as an archer, for he hit Philip in the right eye; and that prince ſent him back the ſame arrow, with this inſcrip⯑tion, ‘"If Philip takes the city, he will hang up After;"’ and accordingly he was as good as his word.

After this Philip marched to the relief of the Theſſalians, who had implored his aſſiſtance againſt their tyrant Lycophron, the ſucceſſor of Alexander of Pherae. This man, after having acted the part of a deliverer for ſome time, renewed all the cruel⯑ties and barbarities of his predeceſſor; and being ſupported by a large body of Phocians under Oeno⯑marchus, he thought himſelf ſecure from all oppoſi⯑tion. Philip, however, attacked him boldly; routed his army; killed ſix thouſand men upon the field of battle; and three thouſand Phocians, who were taken priſoners, were by his order thrown into the ſea, as ſacrilegious wretches, the profeſſed enemies of religion.

[185]Having thus freed the Theſſalians, he reſolved to carry his arms into Phocis, and with this view was going to take poſſeſſion of Thermopylae, the key of Greece, and eſpecially of Attica on that ſide: but the Athenians being informed of his intention, took care to be beforehand with him, and ſent a body of troops to occupy that paſs; and Philip being un⯑willing to come as yet to an open rupture with them, thought proper for the preſent to relinquiſh his deſign. The Athenians were rouſed to this ex⯑ertion of ſpirit by the perſuaſion of Demoſthenes, the celebrated orator, who, from the beginning, foreſaw the ambitious views of Philip, and the power he had of carrying them into effect.

This illuſtrious orator and ſtateſman, whom we ſhall hereafter find acting ſo conſiderable a part in the courſe of this hiſtory, was born in the laſt year of the ninety-ninth olympiad. He was the ſon not of a mean and obſcure mechanic, as Juvenal has repreſented him, but of an eminent Athenian citi⯑zen, who had raiſed a conſiderable fortune by the making of arms. At the age of ſeven years he loſt his father; and, to add to this misfortune, the guar⯑dians, to whom he was entruſted, waſted and em⯑bezzled a conſiderable part of his inheritance. The firſt ſpecimen he gave of his abilities as a ſpeaker, was in pleading againſt theſe corrupt guardians; though here the goodneſs of his cauſe was of more avail than the force of his eloquence; for his early attempts were unpromiſing, and ſoon convinced him of the neceſſity of a graceful and manly pronunciation. In this reſpect, indeed, he laboured under impediments, that, at firſt ſight, might appear to be altogether inſurmountable. He had a ſtammering in his ſpeech; but this he cor⯑rected by pronouncing orations with pebbles in his mouth. He had a weak and effeminate voice; but th [...]s he ſtrengthened, by repeating ſpeeches or verſes [186] when he was out of breath either with running, or with walking up hill. He had an awkward and ungraceful geſture; but this he regulated and im⯑proved, by declaiming privately before a looking-glaſs. And conſcious of the natural averſion of the human mind to ſubmit to ſevere ſtudy, he com⯑pelled himſelf, as it were, to perform this part of his duty; for having built a cloſet under ground for the expreſs purpoſe of his improvement, he ſome⯑times confined himſelf there for two or three months together; and, in order cut off all poſſibi⯑lity of his coming abroad, ſhaved one half of his head while he left the other unſhaved.

But even all theſe preparations would not have been ſufficient, had it not been for the ſalutary ad⯑vice and inſtructions of the player, Satyrus. This man, having one day met Demoſthenes over⯑whelmed with ſhame and confuſion on account of his having been hiſſed in a public aſſembly of the people, for his awkward and uncouth delivery, deſired him to repeat ſome verſes of Sophocles, which he ac⯑cordingly did: the other repeated them after him, but with ſuch a different tone and accent, as fully convinced him that he knew very little of elocution. But by the inſtructions of Satyrus, and his own perſeverance, he at laſt attained to ſuch perfection in the art of delivery, that he ſurpaſſed all his contemporaries as much in this, as he did in the more noble and ſublime parts of his profeſſion. In a word, he ſoon began to be looked upon as the ſtandard of true eloquence; inſomuch that people flocked from all parts of Greece to hear him, and none of his countrymen have been put in competi⯑tion with him; nor, even among the Romans, any but Cicero. And though it has been made a queſ⯑tion by the ancient writers, to which of the two they ſhould give the preference, they have not ven⯑tured to decide it, but have contented themſelves [187] with deſcribing their different beauties, and ſhew⯑ing that they were both perfect in their kind.

His eloquence was grave and auſtere, like his temper; maſculine and ſublime, bold, forcible and impetuous; abounding with metaphors, apoſtro⯑phes and interrogations; which, with his ſolemn way of invoking and appealing to the gods, the planets, the elements, and the manes of thoſe who fell at Salamis and Marathon, had ſuch a wonder⯑ful effect upon his hearers, that they thought him inſpired. In a word, the councils and conduct of his countrymen were ſo much under his controul, and he had it ſo much in his power to lead them into any meaſures he thought proper to recom⯑mend, that Philip uſed to ſay, he was more afraid of him than of all the fleets and armies of the Athe⯑nians, and that he had no enemy but Demoſthenes.

Philip, not chuſing to attack the Athenians at preſent, turned his arms againſt their allies, par⯑ticularly the Olynthians, whom he eaſily ſubdued, notwithſtanding a reinforcement ſent them from Athens; and having taken their city, he plundered it, and ſold the inhabitants among the reſt of the ſpoil. His two baſtard brothers, who were among the captives, he put to death, as he had formerly done the other. Juſtin ſays, that the protection which the Olynthians had given his brothers, was the plea which he uſed for attacking them.

In the mean time, the Thebans being unable alone to terminate the war, which they had ſo long carried on againſt the Phocians, addreſſed them⯑ſelves to Philip, and ſolicited his aſſiſtance. This he readily granted them, being glad of ſo plauſible a pretext for interfering in the affairs of Greece; and deſiring, at the ſame time, to acquire the character of a religious prince; which he knew he ſhould eaſily do, by waging war againſt thoſe who were convicted of ſacrilege. And in order to pre⯑vent [188] the Athenians from thwarting his deſign by ſending aid to the Phocians, he took care to amuſe them with propoſals of peace; which had ſo good an effect, that they actually ſent ten ambaſſadors, among whom were Aeſchines and Demoſthenes, into Macedon, to carry on the treaty. All of theſe, however, Philip found means to corrupt, except Demoſthenes: and he thus continued to pro⯑tract the negociation, until he had marched into Phocis, and compelled the enemy, by the terror of his name, to ſurrender at diſcretion.

As to the allies of the Phocians, and particu⯑larly eight thouſand mercenaries from Peloponneſus, he allowed them to return home without moleſta⯑tion, but the Phocians themſelves were left entirely at his mercy. As this, however, was an affair, in which the Greeks in general were concerned, he did not think proper to act in it by his own pri⯑vate authority, but referred it to the Amphictyons, whom he cauſed to be aſſembled for that purpoſe. But they were ſo much under his influence, that they ſerved only to give a ſanction to his determi⯑nation. They decreed, that all the cities of Phocis ſhould be be demoliſhed; that they who had fled, as being principally concerned in the ſacrilege, ſhould be ſtigmatized as accurſed, and proſcribed as outlaws; that they who remained in the towns, ſhould be diſperſed in villages, and obliged to pay out of their lands a yearly tribute of ſixty talents, until the whole of what had been taken out of the temple ſhould be reſtored (for it is to be obſerved, that Philomelus, their firſt leader, had plundered the temple.) To add to their puniſhment, they were adjudged to loſe their ſeat in the council of the Amphictyons, in which they had a double voice. This Philip got transferred to himſelf, which was a very material point, and may be looked upon as the principal ſtep towards his gaining that authority [189] which he afterwards exerciſed in the affairs of Greece. At the ſame time he gained, in conjunc⯑tion with the Thebans, the ſuperintendency of the Pythian games, which the Corinthians had forfeited for their having taken part with the Phocians. Philip having in this manner accompliſhed his pro⯑feſſed deſign, did not think it prudent as yet to diſ⯑cloſe his ſecret views of ambition, and he therefore returned in triumph into his own country.

It was about this time that he performed an act of private juſtice, which, in the eye of a philoſo⯑pher, ennobles his character more than all his public victories. A certain ſoldier in the Macedonian army had, in many inſtances, diſtinguiſhed himſelf by extraordinary acts of valour, and had received many marks of Philip's favour and approbation. On ſome occaſion he embarked on board a veſſel, which was wrecked in a violent ſtorm, and he him⯑ſelf caſt on the ſhore naked and helpleſs, and ſcarcely with any ſigns of life. A Macedonian, whoſe lands were contiguous to the ſea, came opportunely to be witneſs of his diſtreſs, and, with all poſſible tender⯑neſs, flew to the relief of the unhappy ſtranger. He bore him to his houſe, laid him in his own bed, revived, cheriſhed, comforted, and for forty days ſupplied him freely with all the neceſſaries and con⯑veniencies which his languiſhing condition could re⯑quire. The ſoldier, thus happily reſcued from death, was inceſſant in the warmeſt expreſſions of gratitude to his benefactor, and aſſured him of his intereſt with the king, and of his power and reſo⯑lution of obtaining for him, from the royal bounty, the noble returns which ſuch extraordinary bene⯑volence deſerved. He was now completely reco⯑vered, and his kind hoſt ſupplied him with money to purſue his journey. Some time after, he pre⯑ſented himſelf before the king; he recounted his misfortunes, magnified his ſervices, and having [190] looked with an eye of envy on the poſſeſſions of the man who had preſerved his life, was ſo abandoned to every ſenſe of gratitude, as to requeſt the king to beſtow upon him the houſe and lands where he had been ſo kindly and tenderly entertained. Un⯑happily Philip, without examination, inconſiderately granted his infamous requeſt; and this ſoldier now returned to his preſerver, and repaid his kindneſs by driving him from his ſettlement, and taking imme⯑diate poſſeſſion of all the fruits of his honeſt induſtry. The poor man, ſtung with this inſtance of unparal⯑leled ingratitude, boldly determined to ſeek relief; and, in a letter addreſſed to Philip, repreſented his own and the ſoldier's conduct, in a lively and affecting manner. The king was inſtantly fired with indig⯑nation; he ordered that juſtice ſhould be done with⯑out delay; that the poſſeſſions ſhould be immedi⯑ately reſtored to the man, whoſe charitable offices had been thus horribly repaid; and having ſeized the ſoldier, cauſed theſe words to be branded on his forehead, The Ungrateful Gueſt: a character infa⯑mous in every age, and among all nations, but par⯑ticularly among the Greeks, who, from the earlieſt times, were moſt ſcrupulouſly obſervant of the laws of hoſpitality.

The next military operation which Philip un⯑dertook, was againſt the Cherſoneſe. This penin⯑ſula had for many years belonged to the Athenians; and though Cotys, as king of the country, had lately wreſted it from them, and left it to his ſon Cherſopleptes, yet he being unable to defend him⯑ſelf againſt Philip, reſtored it to its former maſters, and reſerved only to himſelf the capital city, Cardia. But the Cardians, afraid of falling back under the dominion of the Athenians, implored the protection of Philip, which he readily granted them. Diopi⯑thes, who was the chief of the Athenian colony [191] lately ſent to the Cherſoneſe, conſidered this pro⯑ceeding of Philip as an act of hoſtility againſt A⯑thens; and he therefore, by way of retaliation, in⯑vaded the maritime parts of Thrace, which Philip had lately conquered. Philip ſent a letter to Athens, complaining of this conduct of Diopithes, which he repreſented as an infraction of the peace; and his creatures there were at great pains to ſhew that his complaints were well founded, and that Diopi⯑thes had acted very improperly: but Demoſthenes, in a ſpeech which he made upon the occaſion, and which may be conſidered as the foundation of all the other orations that go by the name of Philippics, proved that Diopithes had done no more than his duty; and that, inſtead of incurring the cenſure, he c [...]ght to receive the thanks of his country.

Philip, however, was no way intimidated by the wordy reſiſtance of his eloquent antagoniſt; but proceeding ſtill to extend his influence among the different ſtates of Greece, he offered his protection to the Meſſenians and Argives, who had been op⯑preſſed by the Spartans; and theſe being ſoon men joined by the Thebans, formed all together a very powerful confederacy. The natural balance againſt it was an union between Athens and Sparta, [...]ch the Spartans preſſed with great eagerneſs, [...] Philip and the Thebans did all they could to [...]ent. But Demoſthenes exerting himſelf with great ſpirit, rouſed up the Athenians, and put them ſo [...] their guard, that, without coming to an open [...] with Philip, they obliged him for the pre⯑ſe [...]t to remain quiet.

Q [...]et, however, he could not long continue. He reſtleſs and enterpriſing ſpirit was ever at work. He [...]ad long fixed his eye upon the Iſland of Euboea, [...] being very conveniently ſituated for favouring the reſign he had formed againſt Greece; and he now [...]ntrived, upon pretence of an invitation from [192] ſome of the inhabitants, to ſend a body of troops thither; by which means he poſſeſſed himſelf of ſe⯑veral ſtrong places, diſmantled Porthmos, and eſta⯑bliſhed three tyrants, or kings, over the country. The Athenians were conjured, in this diſtreſsful ſituation, by Plutarch of Eretria, to come to the relief of the inhabitants; and they accordingly diſ⯑patched a few troops thither under the command of Phocion, a general of whom great hopes were enter⯑tained, and whoſe conduct juſtified the high opinion the public had of him.

This man would have done honour to the earlieſt and moſt uncorrupt times of the Athenian ſtate. His manners were formed in the academy, accord⯑ing to the rules of the pureſt and moſt rigid virtue. It is ſaid, that no one ever ſaw him laugh, or weep, or deviate in the leaſt from the moſt ſettled gravity and compoſure. He learned the art of war under Chabrias, and frequently moderated the exceſſes, and corrected the errors of that general: his humanity he admired and imitated, and taught him to ex⯑erciſe it in a more liberal and extenſive manner. When he had received his directions to ſail, with twenty ſhips, to collect the contributions of the allies and dependent cities, ‘"Why this force?" ſaid Phocion; or if I am to meet them as enemies, it is inſufficient; if as friends and allies, a ſingle veſſel will ſerve."’ He bore the hardſhips of a mi⯑litary life with ſo much eaſe, that if ever he appeared warmly clothed, the ſoldiers at once pronounced it the ſign of a cold ſeaſon. His outward appearance was forbidding, and his enemies taking advantage of this circumſtance, ſometimes reproached him with his ſupercilious aſpect; and one day when Chares did ſo, and the Athenians ſeemed pleaſed with the ſarcaſm, Phocion quickly replied, ‘"The ſternneſs of my countenance never made any of you ſad, but the mirth of theſe ſneerers has coſt you [193] many a tear."’ In popular aſſemblies, his lively, cloſe, and natural manner of ſpeaking ſeemed, as it were, the echo of the ſimplicity and integrity of his mind, and had frequently a greater effect, than even the dignity and energy of Demoſthenes, who called him the pruning-hook of his periods. He ſtudied only good ſenſe and plain reaſoning, and deſpiſed every adventitious ornament. He was ſen⯑ſible of the depravity of his countrymen, and ever treated them with the utmoſt ſeverity. He defied their cenſures; and ſo far did he affect to deſpiſe their applauſe, that once, when his ſentiments ex⯑torted their approbation, he turned about in ſurpriſe, and aſked a friend, If any thing weak or imperti⯑nent had eſcaped him? His fondneſs for pacific meaſures aroſe from a thorough perſuaſion of the degeneracy of his countrymen. He ſaw the deſigns of Philip, but imagined that the ſtate was too cor⯑rupted to give him any effectual oppoſition; ſo that he was, according to Demoſthenes in his third Philippic, of the number of thoſe men, who gave up the intereſts of the republic, not ignorantly or corruptly, but from a melancholy conviction of the indiſpenſable neceſſity of yielding to the fatality of the times, and of ſubmitting to an event which could not be avoided. He was, of conſequence, ever of the party oppoſite to Demoſthenes; and having been taught, by experience, to ſuſpect the popular leaders, conſidered his earneſtneſs to rouſe the Athenians to arms, only as an artifice to embroil the ſtate, and by that means to gain an aſcendant in the public aſſemblies. ‘"Phocion," ſaid De⯑moſthenes, "the people, in ſome mad fit, will ſacri⯑fice you to their fury."’ ‘"Yes," replied he, "and you will be their victim, if ever they come to their ſenſes."’ Yet they often prevailed on him to act againſt his judgment, though never to ſpeak againſt his con⯑ſcience. He never refuſed or declined the com⯑mand, whatever might be his opinion of the expe⯑dition. [194] Forty-five times was he choſen to lead their armies, generally in his abſence, and ever without the leaſt application. They knew his merit; and, in the hour of danger, forgot that ſeverity with which he uſually treated their inclinations and opi⯑nions.

It was to him the Athenians gave the command of the forces they ſent to the aſſiſtance of Plutarch. But this traitor repaid his benefactors with ingrati⯑tude; he ſet up his ſtandard againſt them, and en⯑deavoured openly to repulſe the very army he had requeſted. Phocion, however, was not at a loſs how to behave to ſuch a renegado; he purſued his enterpriſe, won a battle, and drove Plutarch from Eretria.

Philip, diſappointed in his deſigns upon Euboea, endeavoured to diſtreſs the Athenians in another quarter. He well knew, that they had moſt of their ſupplies of corn from Thrace; and he, there⯑fore, reſolved to ſhut up the ports of that country againſt them, and particularly to make himſel [...] maſter of Perinthus and Byzantium. Unwilling, however, ſtill to break with them entirely, he took care to amuſe them with profeſſions of his regard, and of his extreme reluctance to give them the leaſt offence. Nay, he wrote them a letter, upon the preſent occaſion, in which he ſtrongly inſinuated that they, and not he, were the violators of the peace. ‘"In the times of great enmity," ſays he [...] "the moſt you did was to fit out ſhips of wa [...] againſt me, and to ſeize and ſell the merchant [...] that come to trade in my dominions; but now yo [...] carry your hatred and injuſtice to ſuch prodigiou [...] lengths, as even to ſend ambaſſadors to the king o [...] Perſia, to make him declare againſt me."’

This letter gave ſuch of the orators, as were i [...] Philip's intereſt, a fine opportunity of juſtifyin [...] his conduct. Demoſthenes alone ſtood firm, an [...] [195] ſtill continued to expoſe his artful deſigns; and, in or⯑der to remove the firſt impreſſions which the peruſal of this letter might make, he immediately aſcended the tribunal, and from thence harangued the people with all the thunder of his eloquence. He told them, the letter was written in a ſtyle not ſuitable to the people of Athens; that it was a plain decla⯑ration of war againſt them; that Philip had long ſince made the ſame declaration by his actions; and [...]hat, by the peace he had concluded with them, he meant nothing more than a bare ceſſation of arms, and to fall upon them afreſh when they were more unprepared. From thence he proceeded to his uſual topic, of reproving them for their ſloth, and ſuffer⯑ing themſelves to be deluded by their orators who were in Philip's pay. ‘"Convinced of theſe truths," continued he, "O Athenians, and ſtrongly per⯑ſuaded, that we can no longer ſay with propriety that we enjoy peace (for Philip has now declared war againſt us by his letter, as he has long ſince done by his conduct) you ought not to ſpare either the public treaſure, or the poſſeſſions of private per⯑ſons, but, when occaſion ſhall require, haſte to your reſpective ſtandards, and ſet abler generals at your head, than thoſe you have hitherto employed: for no one among you ought to imagine, that the ſame men who have ruined your affairs, will have abilities to reſtore them to their former happy ſituation. Think how infamous it is, that a man from Ma⯑cedon ſhould contemn dangers to ſuch a degree, that, merely to aggrandize his empire, he ſhould ruſh into the midſt of combats, and return from battle covered with wounds; and that the Athe⯑nians, whoſe hereditary right it is to obey no man, but to impoſe law on others, ſword in hand; that the Athenians, I ſay, merely through dejection of ſpirit and indolence, ſhould degenerate from the [196] glory of their anceſtors, and abandon the intereſt of their country!"’

Though Phocion ſeldom agreed with Demoſt⯑henes in any thing, he heartily aſſented to what he had now ſaid. He further urged the incapacity of the generals already choſen; and theſe being rejected, he himſelf was appointed to command the troops that were to go againſt Philip, who was ſtill be⯑ſieging Byzantium.

Phocion's conduct, on this occaſion, did not de⯑tract from the high character he had already acquir⯑ed; and he was nobly ſupported by his officers and ſoldiers, who had an entire confidence in his gal⯑lantry and good fortune. He obliged Philip to give over the ſiege; he drove him out of the Hel⯑leſpont; he took ſome of his ſhips; he recovered many fortreſſes which he had ſeized; and having made ſeveral deſcents upon different parts of his ter⯑ritories, he plundered all the open country, till a body of forces aſſembling to oppoſe him, he thought proper to retire.

Philip having met with ſo ſevere a check in Greece, turned his arms againſt the Scythians, whom he eaſily defeated; but, in his return from Scythia, he was obliged to come to an engagement with the Triballi, when he received a wound in his thigh, and had his horſe killed under him. Alex⯑ander, who accompanied him in this expedition immediately flew to his father's relief, and cover⯑ing him with his ſhield, killed or put to flight al [...] who attacked him.

The Athenians conſidered the ſiege of Byzan⯑tium as an open declaration of war; and therefore in order to retaliate upon Philip, they blocked u [...] his ports by ſea, and put an entire ſtop to his com⯑merce. Philip at firſt endeavoured to appeaſe them by offering them terms of peace, which Phocion with his uſual moderation, adviſed them to accep [...] [197] but Demoſthenes perſuaded them to reject with in⯑dignation. Philip, therefore, began to form new alliances againſt them, particularly with the The⯑bans and Theſſalians; but knowing how difficult it would be to perſuade theſe powers to act directly againſt Athens, merely on account of his perſonal quarrels, he took care to ſupply them with a more plauſible pretext for embracing ſuch a meaſure. He found means, by his artifice and intrigues, to ſow diſſenſions between the Locrians of Amphiſſa and their capital city. They were accuſed of im⯑piety, in having ploughed up a ſpot of ſacred ground which lay near the temple of Apollo, in the ſame manner as the Phocians had done upon a former occaſion. This ſpark, which at firſt might eaſily have been extinguiſhed, Aeſchines, the moſt cele⯑brated orator of his time next to Demoſthenes, and who was entirely in the intereſt of Philip, contrived to blow up into a flame; and, by his advice, a re⯑ſolution was taken to ſend a ſolemn deputation to Philip, inviting him to aſſiſt Apollo and the Am⯑phictyons, and to repel the outrages of the impious Amphiſſaeans; and further to declare, that he was conſtituted, by the Greeks, a member of the coun⯑cil of Amphictyons, and general and commander of their forces, with full and unlimited powers.

This was the very ſtation which Philip had long aſpired to, and now thought himſelf ſupremely happy in having attained. Moſt of the inferior ſtates of Greece approved of the conduct of the Amphictyons, in giving the command of their forces to a man, ſo eminent and illuſtrious for his piety, and ſo capable of executing the vengeance of hea⯑ven. The Athenians and Spartans, however, con⯑ſidered the matter in a very different light. They ſaw, that while Philip openly affected to vindicate the honour of Apollo, he was ſecretly promoting the views of his own ambition; and that under pre⯑tence [198] of aiding one part of the Greeks againſt the other, he was in reality forging chains for the whole. Nor was it long before their ſuſpicions were juſti⯑fied by the event; for Philip had no ſooner aſſembled his forces, than inſtead of marching, as he had pro⯑miſed, againſt the irreverent Locrians, he made himſelf maſter of Elatea, a capital city of Phocis, which was very conveniently ſituated for awing the Thebans, of whom he began to grow jealous, and for opening to him a way into the heart of Attica. By ſo extraordinary and unexpected a ſtep he fairly threw off the maſk, and bade defiance, as it were, to the whole body of Grecians.

The news of this tranſaction quickly ſpread into the neighbouring countries, and, wherever it came, filled the minds of the people with terror and conſternation. They now plainly perceived the deſigns of Philip, which his artifice and their own ſtupidity had hitherto concealed from their eyes; but they were at a loſs to know what ſteps they ought to take, in order to ren⯑der them abortive. Nay, even the Athenians themſelves, though they had long apprehended ſome ſuch event, were as much confounded and alarmed as their neighbours. For when they met in a ge⯑neral aſſembly, in order to deliberate upon the pre⯑ſent critical ſituation of affairs, and the herald, as uſual, demanded with a loud voice, ‘"which among them would aſcend the tribunal,"’ not one of them had the courage to riſe, or open his mouth; till at laſt Demoſthenes, animated with the greatneſs of the approaching danger, and fired with that noble ſpi⯑rit of indignation, which he had ever cheriſhed and avowed againſt the inſidious deſigns of Philip, aroſe, and addreſſed the people in the following terms. ‘"Athenians! permit me to explain the circum⯑ſtances of that ſtate which Philip has ſeized upon. Thoſe of its citizens, whom his gold could cor⯑rupt, or his artifice deceive, are all at his devotion. [199] What then is his deſign? By drawing up his forces, and diſplaying his powers on the borders of Thebes, he hopes to inſpire his adherents with courage and aſſurance, and to terrify and controul his adverſaries, that fear or force may drive them into thoſe mea⯑ſures which they have hitherto oppoſed. If then we are reſolved, in this conjuncture, to cheriſh the remembrance of every act of unkindneſs which the Thebans have done to Athens; if we regard them with ſuſpicion, as men who have ranged them⯑ſelves on the ſide of our enemy; in the firſt place we ſhall act agreeably to Philip's warmeſt wiſhes; and then I am apprehenſive, that the party, who now oppoſe him, may be brought over to his in⯑tereſt; the whole city ſubmit unanimouſly to his direction; and Thebes and Macedon fall, with their united force, on Attica. Grant the due atten⯑tion to what I now propoſe; let it be calmly weigh⯑ed without diſpute or cavil, and I doubt not but my counſels may direct you to the beſt and moſt ſalutary meaſures, and diſpel the dangers now im⯑pending over the ſtate. What then do I recom⯑mend? Firſt, ſhake off that terror which hath poſ⯑ſeſſed your minds; and, inſtead of fearing for your⯑ſelves, let the Thebans be the objects of your ap⯑prehenſions: they are more immediately affected; they are the firſt to feel the dangers. In the next place, all thoſe of the age for military ſervice, both infantry and cavalry, ſhould march inſtantly to Eleuſis, that Greece may ſee, that you alſo are aſſembled in arms; and your friends in Thebes be emboldened to aſſert their rights, when they are aſſured, that as they, who have ſold their country to the Macedonians, have a force at Elatea to ſup⯑port them, ſo you are ready to aſſiſt the men who bravely contend for liberty. In the laſt place, I recommend to you to nominate ten ambaſſadors, who, with the generals, may have full authority to [200] determine the time, and all other circumſtances of this march. When theſe ambaſſadors arrive at Thebes, how are they to conduct this great affair? This is a point worthy of your moſt ſerious atten⯑tion. Make no demands on the Thebans; at this conjuncture it would be diſhonourable: aſſure them that your aſſiſtance is ready for their acceptance, as you are deeply concerned for their danger, and have been ſo happy as to foreſee and to guard againſt it. It they approve of your ſentiments, and em⯑brace your overtures, we ſhall effect one great pur⯑poſe, and act with a dignity worthy of our ſtate. But ſhould it happen that we are not ſo ſucceſsful, whatever misfortunes may befal them, to themſelves alone they ſhall be imputed; while your conduct ſhall appear, in no one inſtance, inconſiſtent with the honour and renown of Athens."’

This ſpeech, dictated by the feelings of a patri⯑otic heart, and delivered with all that fire and vehe⯑mence for which the orator was ſo remarkable, im⯑mediately produced the deſired effect. The Athe⯑nians determined to follow the advice that had been now given them; they appointed Demoſthenes him⯑ſelf to head the embaſſy to be ſent to Thebes; and they reſolved to fit out a fleet of two hundred ſail, to cruize near Thermopylae.

Upon his arrival at Thebes, Demoſthenes found himſelf oppoſed by one Python, a man of conſider⯑able abilties, whom Philip had purpoſely ſent thither to counteract the deſigns of the Athenian orator. This, however, he was not able to effect. The maſculine eloquence of Demoſthenes carried all be⯑fore it, and inſpired the Thebans with ſo ſtrong a paſſion for liberty, that they reſolved to join their forces with thoſe of the Athenians, in preventing the further progreſs of the Macedonian arms.

Philip, diſconcerted by the union of two ſuch powerful ſtates, ſent ambaſſadors to the Athenians, re⯑queſting [201] them to deſiſt from their warlike prepara⯑tions; but finding them determined to adhere to their engagements with Thebes, he endeavoured to intimidate both them and and their allies with omens and predictions, which he took care to pro⯑cure from the prieſteſs of Apollo. Demoſthenes, however, perſuaded them to pay no regard to theſe ridiculous oracles. He told them, the prieſteſs Philipized, thereby inſinuating, that it was Philip's money that inſpired her, and that opened her mouth, and made her draw from Apollo whatever anſwers ſhe thought proper. He bade the Thebans remember their Epaminondas, and the Athenians their Pericles, who conſidered theſe oracles and pre⯑dictions as idle ſcarecrows, and conſulted only their reaſon. The Athenian army ſet out immedi⯑ately, and marched to Eleuſis; and the Thebans, ſurpriſed at the diligence of their confederates, joined them, and waited the approach of the enemy.

Philip, conſcious of his own abilities, and at the ſame time convinced of the extreme weakneſs of thoſe who commanded the allied army, determined to bring on a general engagement as ſoon as poſ⯑ſible; and with this view advanced into the plain of Chaeronea, a place rendered famous by the event of this important conteſt. His army amounted to about thirty-two thouſand men; that of the con⯑ſederates did not exceed thirty thouſand.

On the eve of the day on which this deciſive battle was fought, Diogenes, the cynic, who had long looked with equal contempt on either party, was led by curioſity to viſit the camps, as an un⯑concerned ſpectator. In the Macedonian camp, where his perſon and character were not known, he was ſtopped by the guards, and conducted to Phi⯑lip's tent. The king aſked him ſternly whether he came as a ſpy: ‘"Yes, ſaid Diogenes, I am [202] come to ſpy upon your folly and ambition, in thus ſetting your life and kingdom to the hazard of an hour."’

And now the fatal morning appeared, which was for ever to decide the cauſe of liberty and the em⯑pire of Greece. Before the riſing of the ſun both armies were ranged in order of battle. The The⯑bans, with the ſacred band in front, occupied the right wing of the confederate Greeks; the Athe⯑nians, commanded by Lyſicles and Chares, formed the left; and the Corinthians and Peloponneſians were poſted in the centre. On the left of the Ma⯑cedonian army ſtood Alexander, at the head of a choſen body of noble Macedonians, ſupported by the famous cavalry of Theſſaly. In the centre were placed thoſe Greeks who had united with Phi⯑lip, and on whoſe courage he could leaſt depend; while the king himſelf commanded on the right, where his renowned phalanx ſtood, to oppoſe the mpetuoſity with which the Athenians were well known to begin their onſet.

The charge began on each ſide with all the cou⯑rage and violence, which ambition, revenge, the love of glory, and the love of liberty, could excite in the ſeveral combatants. Alexander, at the head of the Macedonian nobles, firſt fell, with all the fury of youthful courage, on the ſacred band of Thebes; which ſuſtained the attack with a bravery and vigour worthy of its former fame. The gallant youths who compoſed this body, not being timely, or duly ſupported by their countrymen, bore up for a while againſt the torrent of the enemy; till at length, oppreſſed and overpowered by ſuperior num⯑bers, without yielding or turning their backs on their aſſailants, they ſunk down on that ground where they had been originally ſtationed, each by the ſide of his darling friend, raiſing up a bulwark by their bodies againſt the progreſs of the enemy. [203] But the young prince and his forces, in all the en⯑thuſiaſtic ardour of valour, animated by ſucceſs, puſhed on through all the carnage, and over all the heaps of ſlain, and fell furiouſly on the main body of the Thebans; where they were oppoſed with ob⯑ſtinate and deliberate courage, and the conteſt was, for ſome time, ſupported with equal reſolution on both ſides.

In the mean time the Athenians, on the left wing, fought with a ſpirit and intrepidity worthy of the character which they boaſted, and of the cauſe by which they were animated. Many gal⯑lant efforts were made by either party, and ſucceſs was for ſome time doubtful; till at length part of the centre, and the right wing of the Macedonians (except the phalanx) yielded to the impetuous attack of the Athenians, and fled with ſome precipitation. Happy had it been that day for Greece, if the con⯑duct and abilities of the Grecian generals had been equal to the valour of their ſoldiers! But thoſe brave champions of liberty were led on by the deſ⯑picable creatures of intrigue and cabal. Tran⯑ſported by the advantage now obtained, the pre⯑ſumptuous Lyſicles cried out, ‘"Come on, my gal⯑lant countrymen; the victory is ours; let us purſue theſe cowards, and drive them back to Macedon;"’ and thus, inſtead of improving the happy opportu⯑nity, by charging the phalanx in flank, and ſo breaking this formidable body, the Athenians wildly and precipitately preſſed forward, in purſuit of the flying enemy, themſelves in all the tumult and diſ⯑order of a rout.

Philip ſaw this fatal error with all the contempt of a ſkilful general, and the ſecret exultation ariſing from the aſſurance of approaching victory. He coolly obſerved to thoſe officers that ſtood round him, that the Athenians knew not how to conquer; and ordered his phalanx to change its poſition, and, by [204] a ſudden evolution, to gain poſſeſſion of an adja⯑cent eminence. From thence they marched deli⯑berately down, firm and collected, and fell, with their united force, on the Athenians, now confi⯑dent of ſucceſs, and blind to their danger. The ſhock was irreſiſtible; they were at once over⯑whelmed; many of them lay cruſhed by the weight of the enemy, and expiring of their wounds; while the reſt eſcaped from the dreadful ſlaughter, by a ſhameful and precipitate flight; bearing down, and hurrying along with them, thoſe troops which had been ſtationed for their ſupport. And here it was, that the great orator and ſtateſman, who had excited his countrymen to make this glorious ſtruggle in defence of their liberty, tarniſhed all the honours he had acquired in the ſenate by his puſillanimity in the field. He took to flight the very firſt onſet; and throwing away his ſhield, on which were inſcribed theſe words To Good For⯑tune, he appeared among the foremoſt in the ge⯑neral rout. The ridicule and malice of his enemies related, or perhaps invented, another ſhameful cir⯑cumſtance; that being impeded in his flight by ſome brambles, his imagination was ſo poſſeſſed by the preſence of the enemy, that he loudly cried out for quarter.

While Philip was thus triumphant on his ſide, Alexander continued the conflict on the other wing, and at length broke the Thebans, in ſpite of all their acts of valour, who now fled from the field, and were purſued with great carnage. The center of the confederates was thus totally abandoned to the fury of a victorious enemy. But enough of ſlaughter had already been made: more than one thouſand of the Athenians lay dead on the field of battle, two thouſand were made priſoners, and the loſs of the Thebans was not inferior. Phi⯑lip, therefore, determined to conclude his impor⯑tant [205] victory by an act of apparent clemency, which his policy and ambition really dictated. He gave orders that the Greeks ſhould be ſpared, carefully locking up in his own breaſt the deſign he had formed againſt their liberties, and hoping one day to march at their head to accompliſh the conqueſt of the Perſian monarchy.

Philip's behaviour, upon obtaining this victory, is differently repreſented by different hiſtorians. Some ſay, that he expreſſed his joy in ſo extrava⯑gant and even ludicrous a manner, as to extort from Demades, one of the Athenian priſoners, the following ſevere reprimand—"Fortune," ſaid that orator to him, ‘"has given you the part of Aga⯑memnon, but you are acting that of Therſites."’ Juſtin, however, repreſents his conduct in a more amiable and engaging light. He ſays, that he was at great pains to diſſemble his joy; that he affected extreme mo⯑deſty, and the utmoſt compaſſion for the priſoners; that he was not even ſeen to laugh; that he would have no ſacrifice, no crowns, no perfumes; that he forbade all kinds of ſports; and did nothing that might make him appear to the conquerors to be elated, nor to the conquered to be inſolent. Cer⯑tain it is, that he immediately concluded a peace with the Athenians; and though he treated the Thebans, as unfaithful allies, with greater ſeverity, yet, after compelling them to pay a ranſom for their priſoners, and a large ſum of money for leave to bury their dead, and after placing a garriſon in their citadel, he agreed to make a peace with them alſo.

It is ſaid, that Iſocrates, the celebrated rhetori⯑cian, was ſo deeply affected when he heard of the loſs of the battle of Chaeronea, that unable to ſur⯑vive the diſgrace which that event had brought upon his country, he haſtened his end by abſtaining from [206] all kind of food: he was then in the ninety-eighth year of his age.

Lyſicles, who had the chief command of the Athenians in this engagement, and by whoſe miſ⯑conduct the battle had been loſt, was ſoon after ſummoned before an aſſembly of the people, and was condemned to die at the inſtance of Lycurgus, who had great credit and influence in the city, but was a ſevere judge, and a moſt bitter accuſer. ‘"You, Lyſicles," ſaid he, "were general of the army; a thouſand citizens were ſlain, two thouſand taken priſoners; a trophy has been erected to the diſhonour of this city, and all Greece is enſlaved. You had the command when all theſe things hap⯑pened; and yet you dare to live, and view the light of the ſun, and bluſh not to appear publicly in the Forum; you, Lyſicles, who are born the mo⯑nument of your country's ſhame."’ This Lycurgus, who did not diſgrace the name which he bore, was one of the firſt orators of the age, and was ſtill more remarkable for the integrity of his life than the force of his eloquence. For, after having managed the public treaſure for the ſpace of twelve years, he cauſed an exact regiſter of every thing he had done during his whole adminiſtration to be fixed up on a pillar, that every body might ſee it, and cenſure it if they pleaſed. Nay, he carried this point ſo far, that, in his laſt illneſs, he ordered himſelf to be carried to the ſenate-houſe, to give a public ac⯑count of all his actions; and, after having refuted one who accuſed him there, he went home and died. Though naturally grave and even auſtere in his temper, he was a great encourager of the ſtage; and, as a proof of his regard for dramatic writers, he erected the ſtatues of Aeſchylus, So⯑phocles, and Euripides.

Chares, who was probably as guilty as Lyſicles, appears to have eſcaped merely through the inſig⯑nificance [207] of his character. Indeed, his abilities were ſo contemptible, that, according to Timo⯑theus, ‘"he was much fitter to carry the general's baggage, than to be a general himſelf."’

Many people thought, that Demoſthenes might, on account of his ſpeeches, be conſidered as the real cauſe of the terrible blow which Athens had now ſuſtained, and that upon him therefore would certainly fall the principal weight of the natural re⯑ſentment. But in this they were diſappointed. The Athenians were ſo fully conviced of his in⯑tegrity and patriotiſm, that, at the very moment they were ſmarting under the wound they had juſt re⯑ceived, they ſubmitted entirely to his counſels and direction. Indeed, he appears to have been highly deſerving of all the confidence they repoſed in him. For being appointed, at this time, to ſupply the city with proviſions, and to repair the walls, he ex⯑ecuted the latter commiſſion with ſo much genero⯑ſity, that as the public treaſure was unequal to the expence, he made up the deficiency out of his own private fortune.

It was for this inſtance of public ſpirit, that his friend Cteſiphon propoſed in an aſſembly of the people, that a crown of gold ſhould be beſtowed upon him; and this gave riſe to the celebrated con⯑teſt between Aeſchines and Demoſthenes, one of the moſt remarkable that is to be found in hiſtory. Aeſchines, the declared rival of Demoſthenes, not only in eloquence but in politics, brought an accu⯑ſation againſt Cteſiphon for the propoſal he had made in favour of his friend, who naturally defended the equity of the meaſure, in which he thought his own honour ſo eſſentially concerned.

No cauſe ever excited ſo much curioſity, or was pleaded with ſo much ability. People flocked to it from all parts, and they had good reaſon for ſo doing; for what ſight could be nobler, than a con⯑flict [208] between two orators, each of them excellent in his way, both formed by nature, improved by art, and animated by perpetual diſſenſions, and an implacable animoſity againſt each other. The junc⯑ture ſeemed to favour Aeſchines very much; for the Macedonian party, whom he always befriended, was very powerful in Athens, eſpecially ſince the ruin of Thebes. Nevertheleſs, he loſt his cauſe, and was juſtly ſentenced to baniſhment for his raſh ac⯑cuſation. He thereupon went and ſettled himſelf at Rhodes, where he opened a ſchool of eloquence, the fame and glory of which continued for many ages. He began his lectures with the two orations that had occaſioned his baniſhment. Great enco⯑miums were paſſed upon that of Aeſchines; but when he repeated the ſpeech of Demoſthenes, the plaudits and acclamations were redoubled. And it was then he uttered theſe words, ſo highly praiſe-worthy in the mouth of a rival: ‘"Alas, what un⯑bounded applauſes would you have beſtowed on this ſpeech, had you heard Demoſthenes deliver it himſelf?"’

Demoſthenes, thus become victor, made a good uſe of his conqueſt. For the inſtant Aeſchines left Athens, in order to embark for Rhodes, Demoſt⯑henes ran after him, and forced him to accept of a purſe of money. On this occaſion, Aeſchines cried out, ‘"How will it be poſſible for me not to regret a country, in which I leave an enemy more generous, than I can hope to find friends in any other part of the world?"’

In the mean time, Philip had his ambition pleaſed, but not ſatisfied, with his laſt victory. The ſove⯑reignty of Greece, even if he had acquired it, he always conſidered but as a ſecondary object, and only as the means of preparing his way for the con⯑queſt of Perſia, which he had long planned in his mind, and hoped to be able one day to accompliſh. [209] But this he knew he could not do without the aſſiſt⯑ance of the Greeks, which, however, he thought he could the more eaſily procure for ſuch an under⯑taking, as they had long burned with an ardent de⯑ſire of revenging upon Perſia the injuries they had received from it, and of working the total diſtruc⯑tion of that empire. Philip, therefore, now pro⯑poſing to lead them to ſuch a glorious gratification of their revenge, they readily choſe him generaliſſimo of their forces; and he, accordingly, began to make preparations for invading the dominions of the Perſian monarch.

But while Philip was thus ſucceſsful in his pub⯑lic undertakings, the violent diſſenſions, that reigned in his family, deſtroyed all his private peace, and at laſt brought him to an untimely end. He had married Olympias, the daughter of the king of Epirus, and the early part of their union was crowned with happineſs; but as ſhe was naturally of a peeviſh and vindictive diſpoſition, a coldneſs firſt, and afterwards a rooted averſion took place between them. This was probably haſtened by the paſſion which Philip had conceived for Cleopatra, niece to Attalus, one of his principal officers. In a word, his love to this lady, and his averſion to Olympias, grew at laſt ſo ſtrong, that he reſolved to eſpouſe the former, after having divorced the latter. In vain did Alexander his ſon remonſtrate, that by divorcing Olympias, and engaging in a ſe⯑cond marriage, he expoſed him to the danger of contending with a number of competitors for the crown, and rendered his ſucceſſion precarious. ‘"My ſon, ſaid the king, if I create you a number of competitors, you will have the glorious opportunity of exerting yourſelf to ſurpaſs them all in merit: thus ſhall their rivalſhip only render you more worthy of the throne."’

[210]His marriage with Cleopatra was now declared in form, and celebrated with all the pomp and magni⯑ficence which the occaſion required. The young prince, however diſſatisfied, was yet obliged to at⯑tend on theſe ſolemnities, and ſat in ſilent indigna⯑tion at that feaſt which proclaimed the diſgrace of his mother. In ſuch circumſtances, his youthful and impetuous mind could not fail to take fire at any the leaſt ſhadow of inſult. Attalus, uncle to the new queen, was ſo unguarded as, in the midſt of the entertainment, to call aloud upon the Macedo⯑nian nobles, to pour out their libations to the gods, that they might grant the king the happy fruits of the preſent nuptials, and legitimate heirs to his throne. ‘"Wretch! cried Alexander, with his eyes ſparkling with that indignation which he had till now ſuppreſſed, doſt thou then call me baſtard?"’ And inſtantly darted his goblet at Attalus, who re⯑turned the outrage with double violence. Clamour and confuſion aroſe, and the king, in a ſudden fit of rage, ſnatched his ſword, and flew directly to⯑wards his ſon. His precipitation, his lameneſs (for he had been wounded in the battle with the Triballi) and the quantity of wine in which he had indulged, happily diſappointed his raſh purpoſe: he ſtumbled and fell on the floor, while Alexander, with an un⯑pardonable inſolence, cried out, ‘"Behold, ye Ma⯑cedonians! this is the king who is preparing to lead you into Aſia; ſee where, in paſſing from one table to another, he is fallen to the ground."’

Philip, however, did not loſe ſight of the con⯑queſt of Aſia. Full of the mighty project, he con⯑ſulted the gods, to know what would be the event of it; and the prieſteſs replied, ‘"The victim is already crowned, his end draws nigh, and he will ſoon be ſacrificed."’ Philip interpreted this oracle in his own favour; though the ambiguity of it might have made him ſuſpect its meaning, and that it was [211] as applicable to ſome other event as to the conqueſt of Aſia. The fact is, it ſoon after appeared, that it was more applicable to himſelf than to the Perſian monarch. For while he was celebrating the nup⯑tials of his daughter Cleopatra, with Alexander, king of Epirus, and brother to his queen Olympias, he was ſuddenly ſtabbed in the height of the ſolem⯑nity, and in the midſt of his guards, by one Pau⯑ſanias, a noble Macedonian, whom Attalus, his favourite general, had cruelly abuſed, and who having repeatedly demanded reparation of the king in vain, at laſt turned the edge of his reſentment from the author of his wrong to his ſovereign him⯑ſelf, and took this dreadful method of ſatiating his revenge.

Olympias is ſuppoſed to have inſtigated Pauſanias to this deſperate act. Certain it is, that when his dead body (for he was inſtantly diſpatched by the guards) was hung up on a gibbet, it appeared next morning crowned with a golden diadem; a mark of reſpect, which no one could have ventured to ſhew to it but Olympias. In a few days after, ſhe took a further occaſion of publiſhing her triumph and exultation in her huſband's fall, by paying the ſame funeral honours to Pauſanias, that were paid to Philip: both bodies were burned on the ſame pile, and the aſhes of both depoſited in the ſame tomb. She is even ſaid to have prevailed on the Macedonians to pay annual honours to Pauſanias; as if ſhe feared, that the ſhare, which he had in the death of Philip, ſhould not be known to the whole world. She conſecrated to Apollo the dagger which had been the inſtru⯑ment of the fatal deed, inſcribed with the name of Myrtalis, the name which ſhe bore when their loves firſt began.

Thus died Philip, a prince poſſeſſed of great abi⯑lities both in peace and war, but much fonder of gaining his ends by dexterity and addreſs than by [...] [212] of arms. The news of his death was a joyful ſur⯑priſe in Greece, and particularly at Athens, where the people crowned themſelves with garlands, and decreed a crown to Pauſanias. They ſacrificed to the gods for their deliverance, and ſung ſongs of triumph, as if Philip had been ſlain by them in battle. But this exceſs of joy very ill became them, becauſe it was altogether inconſiſtent with their late behaviour to that prince; for when he was choſen generaliſſimo of the Greeks, and ſtill more when he celebrated the nuptials of his daughter, the Athe⯑nians were the moſt forward and the moſt fulſome in their compliments to him, and carried their adu⯑lation ſo far, as almoſt to exalt him to the rank of a God.

CHAP. XIII. FROM THE BIRTH OF ALEXANDER TO HIS SET⯑TING OUT FOR ASIA.

ALEXANDER, the ſon of Philip, aſcended the throne upon the death of his father, and took poſſeſſion of a kingdom rendered flouriſhing and powerful by the policy of the preceding reign.

He came into the world the very day the cele⯑brated temple of Diana at Epheſus was burnt, which gave occaſion to Hegeſias the hiſtorian to ſay, ‘"that it was no wonder the temple was burnt, as Diana was that day employed at the delivery of Olympias, to facilitate the birth of Alexander."’

The paſſion, by which Alexander was moſt pow⯑erfully actuated, even in his tender years, was ambi⯑tion, and a love of glory, but not of every kind of glory. Philip, like a ſophiſt, valued himſelf upon his eloquence, and the beauty of his ſtyle; and had the vanity to have engraved, on his coins, the [213] ſeveral victories he had won in the chariot-race at the Olympic games. But it was not after ſuch empty honours that his ſon aſpired. When his friends one day aſked him, whether he would con⯑tend at theſe games, ‘"Yes, ſaid he, I readily will, provided I may have kings to contend with me."’

Every time news was brought him that his father had taken ſome city, or gained ſome great battle, Alexander, ſo far from ſharing in the general joy, uſed to ſay, in a plaintive tone of voice, to the young perſons that were brought up with him, ‘"Friends, my father will poſſeſs himſelf of every thing, and leave nothing for me to do."’

Some ambaſſadors from the king of Perſia having one day arrived at court in his father's abſence, and Alexander being obliged to entertain them, he not only charmed them with the politeneſs of his beha⯑viour, but he filled them with aſtoniſhment at his common good ſenſe and the ſagacity of his remarks. For, inſtead of aſking them queſtions about ſuch trifling circumſtances as are commonly the objects of curioſity to people of his years; ſuch as the ſo much boaſted gardens ſuſpended in the air; the riches and magnificence of the palace and court of the king of Perſia, which excited the admiration of the whole world; the famous golden plantain-tree; and that golden vine, the grapes of which were emeralds, carbuncles, rubies, and all ſorts of precious ſtones, under which the Perſian monarch was ſaid frequently to give audience—inſtead, I ſay, of aſking ſuch frivolous queſtions as theſe, Alex⯑ander enquired which was the road to Upper Aſia; what was the diſtance of the ſeveral places; in what the real ſtrength of the king of Perſia con⯑ſiſted; in what part of the battle he fought; how he behaved towards his enemies; and in what man⯑ner he governed his ſubjects. The ambaſſadors, ſurpriſed to ſee him diſcover a ſagacity ſo greatly be⯑yond [214] his years, could not help exclaiming, ‘"This young prince is great, and ours is rich; that man muſt be extremely inſignificant, who has no other merit than his riches."’

So ripe a judgment in this young prince, was as much owing to the good education which had been given him, as to the ſtrength of his natural parts. Several preceptors, as we have already obſerved, were employed to teach him muſic and other ſu⯑perficial accompliſhments; but the tutor, from whom he received all his real and uſeful knowledge, was Ariſtotle, the moſt famous and moſt learned philoſopher of the age: it was he that was en⯑truſted with the chief care of Alexander's educa⯑tion. One of the reaſons which prompted Philip to give him a maſter of ſo much eminence and merit, was, as he himſelf tells us, that his ſon might avoid committing a great many faults, of which he himſelf had been guilty.

Philip was ſufficiently ſenſible of Ariſtotle's merit, and he rewarded it with the liberality and munifi⯑cence of a prince. He not only ſettled a genteel ſalary upon him, but he afterwards expreſſed his re⯑gard for him in a more public and conſpicuous manner; for having formerly ſtormed and ſacked Stagira, the native city of Ariſtotle, he now re⯑built it, and reinſtated the inhabitants who had fled from it, or were made ſlaves; giving them beſides, a fine park in the neighbourhood as a place for their ſtudies and exerciſes. Plutarch tells us, that, even in his time, the people of Stagira ſhewed the ſtone-ſeats of Ariſtotle, as alſo the ſhady walks which he uſed to frequent.

Alexander likewiſe diſcovered no leſs eſteem for his maſter, whom he believed himſelf bound to love as much as if he had been his father; declaring, that he was indebted to the one for living, and to the other for living well. The progreſs of the [215] pupil was equal to the care and abilities of the pre⯑ceptor. He grew extremely fond of philoſophy, and learned the ſeveral parts of it. But his favourite ſtudy was morality, which is properly the ſcience of kings, becauſe it is the knowledge of mankind, and of their duties. To this he applied himſelf with unwearied attention, and conſidered it even at that time as the foundation of prudence and wiſe policy.

Nor was Ariſtotle leſs careful to inſtruct him in the art of ſpeaking, than in that of thinking and reaſoning; and for this purpoſe he wrote his cele⯑brated treatiſe on rhetoric, in the beginning of which he proves the vaſt advantages a prince may derive from eloquence, as it gives him the greateſt aſcendant over the minds of men, which he ought to acquire, as well by his wiſdom as authority. Some anſwers and letters of Alexander, which are ſtill extant, ſhew that he poſſeſſed, in its greateſt perfection, that ſtrong, that manly eloquence, which abounds with ſenſe and ideas, and which is ſo entirely free from ſuperfluous expreſſions, that every ſingle word has its meaning, which, properly ſpeak⯑ing, is the eloquence of kings.

His eſteem, or rather his veneration for Homer is well known. When a golden box, enriched with precious ſtones, was found in the Perſian camp after the battle of Arbela, and it was deliberated to what purpoſe it ſhould be applied, Alexander ſaid, that there was nothing ſo worthy of being put into it as Homer's Poems, which he believed to be the moſt per⯑fect, and moſt complete production of the human mind. He admired particularly the Iliad, which he conſider⯑ed as a treaſure of military knowledge. He always had with him that copy of it which had been reviſed and corrected by Ariſtotle, and to which he gave the name of the caſket-copy; and he laid it with his ſword every night under his pillow.

[216]Fond, even to exceſs, of every kind of glory, he was diſpleaſed with Ariſtotle, his maſter, for having publiſhed, in his abſence, certain metaphyſical pieces which he himſelf deſired to poſſeſs excluſively of all others; and even at the time when he was em⯑ployed in the conqueſt of Aſia, and the purſuit of Darius, he wrote him a letter, which is ſtill extant, wherein he complains upon that very account. Alexander ſays in it, that he had much rather ſurpaſs others in the knowledge of the ſublimer ſciences, than in the greatneſs of his power or the extent of his dominion.

He had alſo a taſte for the whole circle of the arts, but in ſuch a manner as became a prince; that is, he knew the value and utility of them. Muſic, painting, ſculpture, architecture, flouriſhed in his reign; becauſe they found him both a judge and a generous protector; who was able to diſtinguiſh and to reward merit. But he deſpiſed certain trifling feats of dexterity, that were of no uſe. One day ſome Macedonians expreſſing their ſurpriſe at the in⯑genuity of a man, that excelled in throwing ſmall peas through the eye of a needle, Alexander ſaid, that he would make him a preſent ſuitable to his employment, and he accordingly ſent him a baſket of peas.

The firſt inſtance Alexander gave of his bold and daring ſpirit, was in his management of the fa⯑mous horſe Bucephalus, which had been brought to his father's court by Philonicus, the Theſſalian, who refuſed to ſell him for leſs than thirteen talents. The king went into the plains, attended by his courtiers, in order to make a trial of this horſe; but they found him ſo very wild and unmanageable, that no one would venture to mount him. Philip being angry that ſo furious and ungovernable a crea⯑ture had been brought to him, gave orders for their carrying him back again. Alexander, who was [217] preſent at this time, cried out, ‘"What a noble horſe we are going to loſe, for want of addreſs and boldneſs to back him!"’ Philip at firſt conſidered theſe words as the effect of folly and raſhneſs, ſo common to young men; but as Alexander ſtill in⯑ſiſted upon what he had ſaid, and was very uneaſy to ſee ſo noble a creature juſt going to be ſent home again, his father at laſt gave him leave to try what he could do. The young prince, overjoyed at this permiſſion, goes up to Bucephalus, takes hold of the bridle, and turns his head to the ſun, having obſerved that the thing which frightened him was his own ſhadow. Alexander, therefore, firſt ſtroked him gently with his hand, and ſoothed him with his voice; then ſeeing his fierceneſs abate, he ſoftly let fall his cloak, and ſpringing upon his back at one leap, he firſt ſlightly tightened the rein, without ſtriking or vexing him; and when he perceived that his fire was cooled, that he was no longer ſo furi⯑ous and violent, and that he wanted only to move forward, he gave him the rein, and ſpurring him with great vigour, animated him with his voice to his full ſpeed. While this was doing, Philip and his whole court trembled for fear, and did not once open their lips: but when the prince, after hav⯑ing run his firſt heat, returned with pride and triumph, at having thus broke a horſe that was deemed abſolutely ungovernable, the courtiers in general burſt out into acclamations of applauſe, while Philip, with tears of joy in his eyes, em⯑braced Alexander, as he alighted, and ſaid, ‘"My ſon, ſeek a kingdom more worthy of thee, for Ma⯑cedon is below thy merit."’

Alexander, upon his acceſſion to the throne, ſaw himſelf ſurrounded with danger on every ſide; not only from the barbarous nations, with whom Philip had contended during his whole reign, and who were impatient of the yoke he had impoſed upon [218] them; but likewiſe from the Greeks themſelves, who reſolved to lay hold of this opportunity to reco⯑ver their liberties, of which Philip had deprived them in reality, though not in appearance. The danger, indeed, from both theſe quarters was ſo great and ſo imminent, that the more prudent among the Ma⯑cedonians adviſed their ſovereign to ward them off by policy and addreſs, rather than repel them by force of arms. But theſe timorous counſels were by no means agreeable to the bold and enterpriſing ſpirit of Alexander. He plainly ſaw, that if his enemies perceived him betraying the leaſt ſymptom of fear, they would be all upon him at once, would ſtrip him of his father's conqueſts, and reduce his dominions to the narrow limits of Macedon.

He therefore marched firſt againſt the Barbarians; and croſſing the Danube in one night, he defeated the king of the Triballi in a great battle, and ſtruck ſuch terror into the neighbouring nations, as obliged them for the preſent to remain quiet. Returning thence, in a little time, he turned his arms againſt the Greeks, and particularly the Thebans, who upon a falſe report of his death, had cut to pieces a great number of the Macedonian garriſon in thei [...] citadel. To this they were chiefly inſtigated by th [...] harangues of Demoſthenes, who is likewiſe ſaid to have invented the report of Alexander's death; and in ſo doing, ſeems not to have acted with his uſua [...] prudence: for the falſity of this report could no [...] be long concealed, and when it was diſcovered, i [...] muſt not only have defeated the end it was in tended to ſerve, but muſt have rendered the veracit [...] of the reporter for ever after ſuſpicious. Alexande [...] however, ſoon convinced them, that he was neithe [...] dead, nor even indiſpoſed; for his arrival in Greec [...] was ſo ſudden and ſo unexpected, that the The⯑ban [...] cou [...]d ſcarce believe their own eyes when the [...] [...]. Being come before their walls, he wa [...] [219] willing to allow them time to repent; and only de⯑manded to have Phoenix and Prothules, the two chief ringleaders of the revolt, delivered up to him; and publiſhed, by ſound of trumpet, a general pardon to all who ſhould come over to him. But the Thebans, by way of inſult, demanded to have Philotas and Antipater delivered to them, and in⯑vited, by proclamation, all who were ſolicitous for the liberty of Greece to join them in its defence.

Alexander, finding it impoſſible to prevail upon them by gentle means, was obliged to employ more powerful arguments, and to decide the matter by force of arms. A great battle was accordingly fought, in which the Thebans behaved with a ſpirit and intrepidity much beyond their ſtrength, for the enemy exceeded them vaſtly in numbers. But after a long and obſtinate diſpute, the Macedonian garriſon coming down from the citadel, and attacking them in the rear, the Thebans were ſurrounded on all ſides, the greateſt part of them were cut in pieces, and the city was taken and plundered.

The calamities which they ſuffered on this oc⯑caſion, may be more eaſily conceived than expreſſed. Some Thracians having pulled down the houſe of a virtuous lady of quality, Timoclea by name, car⯑ried off all her goods and treaſures; and their cap⯑tain naming forcibly violated her chaſtity, enquired of her afterwards whether ſhe had not concealed gold and ſilver. Timoclea, animated by an ardent deſire of revenge, ſaid that ſhe had hid ſome, and taking him with her alone into the garden, and ſhewing him a well, told him, that there lay her concealed treaſure. The Barbarian ſtooping down to look into the well, Timoclea, who was behind him, puſhed him forward with all her might, threw him in, and afterwards killed him with great ſtones, which ſhe heaped upon him. She was inſtantly ſeized by the Thracians, and being put in chains [220] was carried before Alexander. The prince imme⯑diately perceived by her mien, that ſhe was a woman of quality and of a lofty ſpirit; for ſhe followed thoſe brutal wretches with an undaunted air, and without diſcovering the leaſt ſign of fear. Alex⯑ander aſking her who ſhe was, Timoclea replied, ‘"I am ſiſter to Theagenes, who fought againſt Philip for the liberty of Greece, and was killed in the battle of Chaeronea, where he commanded."’ The prince, admiring her magnanimous anſwer, and the puniſhment ſhe had inflicted on her cruel raviſher, gave orders that ſhe ſhould have leave to retire wherever ſhe pleaſed with her children.

Alexander conſidered for ſome time with himſelf how he ſhould act with regard to Thebes. His own reſentment carried him to the moſt violent meaſures; and this was ſtill farther inflamed by the repreſenta⯑tions of the Phocians, and the people of Plataea, Theſpiae, and Orchomenus, who were all of them mortal enemies to the Thebans. Tranſported therefore by his own furious paſſions, and ſtill further inſtigated by their cruel advice, he unhappily adopted the moſt ſevere reſolution, and the city was in⯑ſtantly razed to the ground. But he did not wreak his vengeance upon all the inhabitants indiſcrimi⯑nately. He ſet the prieſts at liberty; as alſo all ſuch as had a right of hoſpitality with the Macedonians; the deſcendants of Pindar, the famous poet, who had done ſo much honour to Greece; and ſuch likewiſe as bad oppoſed the revolt. But all the reſt, in number about thirty thouſand he ſold; and up⯑wards of ſix thouſand had been killed in battle. The Athenians were ſo deeply affected on hearing of the ſad cataſtrophe of Thebes, that they put off the celebration of the Great Myſteries, which they were about to ſolemnize; and they received, with the greateſt humanity, all thoſe who had eſcaped [221] from the battle, and the ſacking of Thebes, and made Athens their aſylum.

The Athenians had not only encouraged the Thebans to ſet Alexander at defiance; they had even formed a league with them and the Lacedae⯑monians to check the progreſs of his arms: but his ſudden arrival in Greece, and the example he had now given, of the dreadful conſequences of incurring his diſpleaſure, made them begin to abate conſiderably of their wonted pride, and, inſtead of preſuming to oppoſe his power, they judged it, for the preſent, the moſt eligible courſe to implore his clemency. They therefore ſent a deputation to him, in which Demoſthenes was included; but he had no ſooner arrived at mount Cytheron, than, dreading the anger of the Macedonian prince, he quitted the embaſſy, and returned home.

Alexander well knew, that it was the orators chiefly that kept alive the love of liberty and the ſpirit of independence among the people of Athens, and conſequently formed the greateſt obſtacle to the completion of his deſigns. He therefore now de⯑manded, that ten of theſe orators ſhould be put in⯑to his hands. It was on this occaſion that De⯑moſthenes related to the people the fable of the wolves and the dogs; in which it is ſuppoſed, that the wolves one day told the ſheep, that in caſe they deſired to be at peace with them, they muſt deliver up to them the dogs who were their guard. The application was eaſy and natural; eſpecially with re⯑ſpect to the orators, who were juſtly compared to dogs, whoſe duty it is to watch, to bark, and to fight, in order to ſave the lives of the flock.

In this afflicting dilemma of the Athenians, who could not think of delivering up their orators to what they conſidered as certain death, though they had no other way to ſave their city, Demades, whom Alexander had honoured with his friendſhip, [222] offered to undertake the embaſſy alone, and intercede for them. He did ſo, and ſucceeded; whether it was, that the king had already ſatiated his revenge, and that he was willing, by ſome act of clemency, to wipe out the remembrance of the cruelties he had lately committed, or perhaps was deſirous of conciliating the affections of the Greeks in general, before he ſet out on his Aſiatic expedition. Cer⯑tain it is, that he waved his demand with regard to the delivery of the Athenian orators, and was pa⯑cified by their ſending into baniſhment Caridemus, who, being a native of Oraea, had been preſented by the Athenians with the freedom of the city.

As for the Athenians themſelves, he not only for⯑gave them the ſeveral injuries he pretended to have received from them, but he even flattered their pride, by adviſing them to give particular attention to public affairs, becauſe, in caſe of his death, he ſaid, they were likely to give law to the reſt of Greece. Hiſtorians relate, that, many years after this expedition, he was ſeized with remorſe for the cruel puniſhment he had inflicted on the Thebans, and that this ſoftened his temper, and made him be⯑have with greater humanity towards other nations.

Being now freed from all apprehenſions of any further oppoſition from Greece, he ſummoned at Corinth an aſſembly of the ſeveral ſtates and free cities of that country, in order to obtain from them the ſupreme command againſt the Perſians, which had been granted to his father a little before his death. No aſſembly ever deliberated upon a more important ſubject. It was the weſtern world de⯑ciding upon the fate of the eaſt; and concerting methods for executing a revenge, which had been ſuſpended for more than an age. The aſſembly held at this time gave riſe to events, the relation of which appears aſtoniſhing and almoſt incredible; and to [223] revolutions, which contributed to change the diſ⯑poſition of moſt things in the political world.

To accompliſh ſuch a ſcheme required a prince of Alexander's bold and enterpriſing ſpirit, and a people like the Greeks, brave, hardy, and active, animated by a love of military glory, and inſpired with an implacable reſentment againſt the nation they were going to attack. The Greeks, indeed, had long wiſhed for an opportunity to revenge upon Perſia the injuries they had ſuſtained from that em⯑pire; and they now therefore accepted with pleaſure the offer of Alexander to lead them againſt their old and irreconcileable enemies, whoſe deſtruction they had repeatedly ſworn, and whom they hoped in a little time to be able to extirpate. The Lacedaemonians were the only people that made any objections to this propoſal. They ſaid, ‘"they had always been accuſtomed to point out the way to glorious deeds, and not to be directed by others."’ But they were obliged to ſubmit to the prevailing ſenſe of the aſ⯑ſembly; and Alexander was, of courſe, appointed generaliſſimo againſt the Perſians.

He was no ſooner raiſed to this high rank, than he received congratulations from the philoſophers, the governors of cities, and other great men; and he expected the ſame compliment from Diogenes of Sy⯑nope, who was then at Corinth. But as Diogenes did not think proper to come to him, he went attended by his whole court, to viſit that philoſopher. He found him lying on the ground, and baſking him⯑ſelf in the ſun; and being ſurpriſed to ſee a man of ſo much reputation living in ſuch extreme poverty, he naturally aſked him whether he wanted any thing? ‘"Only, ſaid Diogenes, that you would ſtand from between me and the ſun."’ This anſwer excited the contempt of all the courtiers; but the king was ſo ſtruck with the philoſopher's greatneſs [224] of ſoul, that he could not help exclaiming, ‘"Were I not Alexander, I would be Diogenes."’

Before he ſet out for Aſia, he reſolved to conſult the oracle of Apollo. He therefore went to Delphos, where he happened to arrive in thoſe days which are called unlucky, that is, at a time when it was un⯑lawful to give reſponſes; and accordingly the prieſteſs refuſed to go to the temple. But Alexander, who could not bear any contradiction to his will, took her forcibly by the arm, and as he was leading her to the temple, ſhe cried out, ‘"My ſon, thou art invincible."’ Alexander, catching hold of theſe words as the anſwer of the oracle, declared that it was needleſs to conſult the God any further, and he therefore returned to Macedon, in order to prepare for his great expedition.

Some of his friends adviſed him, before he em⯑barked in this undertaking, to make choice of a conſort, in order to ſecure himſelf a ſucceſſor to his throne. But the king, who was of an impetuous temper, diſapproved of this advice, and ſaid, that after he had been nominated generaliſſimo of the Greeks, and that his father had left him ſo gallant an army, it would be a ſhame for him to loſe time in celebrating his marriage, and waiting for the fruits of it; and that therefore he was determined to ſet out immediately.

Before he did ſo, however, he thought proper to ſettle the affairs of Macedon. He appointed An⯑tipater to be viceroy of that kingdom, with an army of twelve thouſand ſhot, and near the ſame num⯑ber of horſe. He then enquired into the private circumſtances of his friends, giving to one an eſtate in land, to another a village, to a third the revenues of a town, and to a fourth the toll of an harbour. As all the revenues of his crown were already employed, or exhauſted by his donations, Perdiccas ſaid to him, ‘"My Lord, what is it you [225] reſerve for yourſelf?"’ Alexander replied, ‘Hope:’ upon which Perdiccas ſaid, ‘"the ſame hope ought therefore to ſatisfy us;"’ and ſo refuſed very gene⯑rouſly to accept of what the king had allotted him.

CHAP. XIV. FROM ALEXANDER'S ARRIVAL IN ASIA TO HIS DEATH.

ALEXANDER, having taken the neceſſary precautions for ſecuring the tranquillity of Ma⯑cedon in his abſence, ſet out for Aſia in the begin⯑ning of the ſpring. His army conſiſted of little more than thirty thouſand foot, and four or five thouſand horſe; but then they were all brave men, well diſciplined, and enured to fatigue. They had made ſeveral campaigns under Philip, and were each of them, in caſe of neceſſity, capable of com⯑manding: moſt of the officers were near threeſcore years of age, and the common men fifty; and when they were either aſſembled, or drawn up at the h [...]d of a camp, they had the appearance of a ve⯑nerable ſenate. Parmenio commanded the infantry; P [...]lotas, his ſon, had eighteen hundred horſe under him; and Callas, the ſon of Harpalus, the ſame na [...]ger of Theſſalian cavalry. The reſt of the horſe, conſiſting of natives of the ſeveral ſtates, were under the direction of a ſeparate commander. And the Thracians and Poeonians, who were always in front, were headed by Caſſandra. Such was the army, which was to decide the fortune, not only of Greece, but of all the eaſtern world. Alexander be⯑gan his march along the lake Cercinum; and after paſſing the rivers Strymon and Hebrus, he came to the ſhore of the Helleſpont, which he croſſed in an hundred and ſixty gallies, and ſeveral flat-bottomed [226] veſſels, himſelf ſteering his own galley; and upon his arrival at the oppoſite coaſt, as if to take poſ⯑ſeſſion of the continent, he leaped from his ſhip in complete armour, and expreſſed the greateſt tran⯑ſports of joy.

It has frequently been thought ſtrange, that the Perſians took no ſtep to check the progreſs of the Macedonians at the Helleſpont, where they might certainly have been oppoſed with the greateſt eaſe; eſpecially as the former were poſſeſſed of a large and powerful fleet, and that of the latter was very inconſiderable. Whether this proceeded from ſupineneſs and inattention, or from a contempt of the enemy, it is difficult to determine. What⯑ever was the cauſe, the event proved equally fatal to the Perſians.

Alexander being arrived at Lampſacus, was going to deſtroy it, in order to puniſh the rebellion of the inhabitants; and Anaximenes therefore, a native of the place, came to him with a view of diverting him from his cruel reſolution. This man, who was a famous hiſtorian, had been very intimate with Philip his father; and Alexander himſelf had a great eſteem for him, having been his pupil. The king, ſuſpecting the purport of his errand, and will⯑ing to be beforehand with him, ſwore, that he would never grant his requeſt. ‘"The favour I have to deſire of you, ſays Anaximenes, is that you would deſtroy Lampſacus."’ By this witty evaſion the hiſtorian ſaved his country.

From thence Alexander went to Troy, where he paid great honours to the memory of the heroes who had fallen there, and particularly to that of Achilles, at whoſe tomb he cauſed funeral games to be performed. He declared that he looked upon Achilles as one of the happieſt of men, in having had, during his life, ſo faithful a friend as a Patro⯑clus, [227] and, after his death, ſo famous a poet as Homer to celebrate his actions.

When Darius was informed of Alexander's ar⯑rival in Aſia, he expreſſed the utmoſt contempt for the Macedonian army, and indignation at the pre⯑ſumption of their general. He wrote letters to the governors of his different provinces, com⯑manding them, if they took Alexander alive, to whip him with rods, to make priſoners of his whole army, and to ſend them as ſlaves to one of the re⯑moteſt and moſt deſert parts of his dominions. It was not long, however, before he had reaſon to entertain more juſt and more modeſt ſentiments. Alexander being arrived on the banks of the Gra⯑nicus, a river of Phrygia, found the Perſians to the number of a hundred and ten thouſand men, drawn up on the other ſide, and ready to diſpute his paſ⯑ſage. Memnon, who command all the ſea-coaſt of Aſia under Darius, gave it as his opinion, that the wiſeſt courſe would be to lay waſte the adjacent country, and thus to oblige the Macedonian army either to retreat, or to ſurrender at diſcretion for want of proviſions. But this prudent advice was over-ruled by Arſites, a Phrygian Satrap, who ſaid, that he would never ſuffer the Grecians to make ſuch havock in the territories he governed.

Nor was Alexander, on his ſide, without thoſe who adviſed him to proceed with caution, and to refrain from croſſing the river the ſame day on which he reached it. This, in particular, was the opi⯑nion of Parmenio, a brave and experienced officer, who obſerved, that the troops were already too much fatigued with their march, to be equal to the additional labour of croſſing a river, eſpecially one which was ſo deep, and whoſe banks were ſo craggy, and that too in the face of ſuch an immenſe body of the enemy, who were perfectly freſh, and were ready to oppoſe him. But theſe arguments made no im⯑preſſion [228] on Alexander, who declared, that it would be a ſhame for him, after croſſing the Helleſpont, to ſuffer his progreſs to be interrupted by a rivulet, for ſo he called the Granicus by way of contempt: that, on the contrary, they ought to take advantage of the terror which the ſuddenneſs of his arrival, and the boldneſs of his attempt, had ſpread among the Perſians, and anſwer the high opinion the world had conceived of his courage, and the valour of the Macedonians.

The two armies, however, continued for ſome time on the oppoſite banks of the river, the one looking out for a proper place to ford it, and the other narrowly watching their motions, and deter⯑mined, if poſſible, to prevent their paſſage. At laſt Alexander ordered his horſe to be brought; and commanding the nobleman of his court to follow him, and behave gallantly, he cauſed a ſtrong de⯑tachment to march into the river, himſelf following it with the right wing of his army, as Parmenio did with the [...]t. The Perſians, ſeeing the detachment advance, began to let fly their arrows, and march to a place where the bank was not ſo ſteep, in order to keep the Macedonians from landing. But now the horſe engaged with great fury, one part endea⯑vouring to land, and the other ſtriving to prevent them. The Macedonians, whoſe cavalry were vaſtly inferior in number, beſides the diſadvantage of the ground, were overwhelmed with the ſhowers of darts that were poured from the eminence; not to mention that the flower of the Perſian horſe were drawn together here, and were headed by Memnon, the ableſt and moſt reſolute of all the Perſian ge⯑nerals. The Macedonians, therefore, at laſt gave way, after having performed many ſignal acts of valour. But Alexander coming up, reſtored the battle; he reinforced them with his beſt troops; he headed them himſelf; he animated them by his pre⯑ſence; [229] he puſhed the Perſians, and at laſt routed them; upon which the whole army followed after, croſſed the river, and attacked the enemy on all ſides.

Alexander firſt charged the thickeſt part of the enemy's horſe, in which the generals fought. He himſelf was particularly conſpicuous by his ſhield, and the plume of feathers that overſhadowed his helmet, ſo that he was eaſily diſtinguiſhed from the reſt of the army. The charge, therefore, was very furious about his perſon; and though only the horſe engaged, they fought like foot, man to man, with⯑out giving way on either ſide. Spithridates, lieu⯑tenant-governor of Ionia, and ſon-in-law to Darius, diſtinguiſhed himſelf above the reſt of the generals by his ſuperior bravery. Surrounded by forty Per⯑ſian lords, all of them his relations, of experienced valour, and who never moved from his ſide, he carried terror wherever he came. Alexander ob⯑ſerving in how gallant a manner he ſignalized him⯑ſelf, clapt ſpurs to his horſe and advanced towards him. Immediately they engaged, and each having thrown a javelin, wounded the other ſlightly. Spithridates falls furiouſly ſword in hand upon Alex⯑ander, who, being prepared for him, thruſts his p [...]ke into his face, and laid him dead at his feet. At that very moment Rhaeſaces, brother to that nobleman, charging him on the ſide, gave him a furious blow on the head with his battle-axe, which beat off his plume, but went no deeper than his hair. As he was going to repeat the blow on his head, which now appeared through the broken hel⯑met, Clytus cut off Rhaeſaces's hand with one ſtroke of his ſcimitar, and by that means ſaved his ſove⯑reign's life. The danger, to which Alexander had expoſed himſelf, added freſh courage to his ſoldiers, who now performed prodigies of valour. The Perſians, therefore, unable any longer to ſuſtain the aſſault of [230] the Macedonians, immediately gave way, and were put to a total rout. Alexander did not purſue them far, but wheeling about ſuddenly, began in an inſtant to make an attack upon the foot.

The conteſt here was neither long nor violent; for the enemy ſeeing the Macedonian phalanx, which had now croſſed the river, and was regu⯑larly formed, advancing againſt them, they imme⯑diately took to flight, all but the Grecian infantry in Darius's pay. This body of foot, retiring to a hill, demanded permiſſion to march away unmoleſted; but Alexander, guided by paſſion rather than reaſon, ruſhed furiouſly into the midſt of them, and had his horſe killed under him by the thruſt of a ſword. The battle here for ſome time was ſo hot, that more of the Macedonians tell in this encounter than in all the preceding action; for they fought againſt a body of men, who were well diſciplined, had been enured to war, and were actuated by deſpair. They were all cut to pieces, two thouſand excepted, who were taken priſoners.

A great number of the Perſian commanders lay dead on the ſpot. Arſites fled into Phrygia, where he is ſaid to have laid violent hands on himſelf, for having adviſed his countrymen to come to an imme⯑diate engagement. In this action twenty thouſand foot, and two thouſand five hundred horſe were killed on the ſide of the barbarians; and of the Macedonians twenty-five of the royal horſe were killed in the firſt attack. Alexander ordered Lyſip⯑pus to make their ſtatues of braſs, all of which were ſet up in a city of Macedon, called Dia, from whence they were many years after carried to Rome by Metelius. About threeſcore of the other horſe were killed, and near thirty foot, who, the next day, were all laid with their arms and equipage in one grave; and the king granted an exemption to their [231] fathers and children from every kind of tribute and ſervice.

He alſo took the utmoſt care of the wounded, viſited them, and ſaw their wounds dreſſed. He enquired very particularly into their adventures, and permitted every one of them to relate his actions in the battle, and boaſt of his bravery. He alſo granted the rites of ſepulture to the principal Perſians, and did not even refuſe it to ſuch Greeks as died in the Perſian ſervice; but all thoſe whom he took pri⯑ſoners, he put in chains, and ſent to work as ſlaves in Macedonia, for having fought under the barba⯑rian ſtandard againſt their country, contrary to the expreſs prohibition made by Greece on that head.

Alexander thought it his duty, and made it his pleaſure, to ſhare the honour of his victory with the Greeks. He ſent to the Athenians three hundred ſhields, being part of the plunder taken from the enemy, and cauſed this glorious inſcription to be put upon the reſt of the ſpoils: ‘"Alexander, ſon of Philip, with the Greeks (the Lacedaemonians excepted) gained theſe ſpoils from the barbarians, who inhabit Aſia."’ The greateſt part of the gold and ſilver plate, the purple carpets, and other ar⯑ticles of Perſian luxury, he ſent to his mother.

The terrible defeat, which the Perſians had now ſuſtained, ſtruck ſuch a terror into their minds, that they could not be brought, for a long time, to oppoſe Alexander in the field; and he therefore proceeded, without interruption, to make himſelf maſter of one town after another; ſome, indeed, with more, and others with leſs difficulty. Sardis and Epheſus he eaſily reduced. The inhabitants of the former he took under his protection, and per⯑mitted them to be governed by their own laws; obſerving to his friends, at the ſame time, that ſuch as lay the foundation of a new empire ſhould al⯑ways endeavour to have the fame of being merci⯑ful. [232] At Epheſus he aſſigned to the temple of Diana, the tributes which had been paid to the Perſian kings.

He next laid ſiege to Miletus, and afterwards to Halicarnaſſus, both of which he compelled to ſur⯑render, though not till after a ſharp and obſtinate reſiſtance, as both of them were defended by Mem⯑non, the braveſt and moſt experienced of all Da⯑rius's generals. The Mileſians he treated with great humanity, but Halicarnaſſus he thought proper to raze to the ground. Soon after this, he reſtored Ada, queen of Caria, to her kingdom, of which ſhe had been lately diſpoſſeſſed; and ſhe, in order to teſtify her gratitude, ſent him meats dreſſed in the moſt exquiſite manner, and the moſt excellent cooks of every kind. Alexander thanked her for her po⯑liteneſs, but at the ſame time told her, that he had much better cooks of his own, whom his governor Leonidas had given him, one of whom prepared him a good dinner, and the other an excellent ſupper; and theſe were temperance and exerciſe.

Advancing ſtill further into the country, he re⯑ceived the voluntary ſubmiſſion of ſeveral of the kings of Leſſer Aſia, and, among others, that of Mithridates, king of Pontus, who afterwards ad⯑hered to him with unſhaken fidelity, and accompa⯑nied him in his expedition. This man was the pre⯑deceſſor of the famous Mithridates, who ſo long employed the armies of Rome, and makes ſo capi⯑tal a figure in the hiſtory of that republic.

Next year Alexander reſolved to open the cam⯑paign very early. But, previous to his beginning his operations, he held a conſultation with his prin⯑cipal officers, whether he ſhould march directly in queſt of Darius, or firſt ſubdue the other maritime provinces. The latter opinion appeared the moſt prudent, as by that means he would be freed from all apprehenſions of being moleſted in his rear, and would leave every thing quiet and ſecure behind [233] him. Proceeding, therefore, through a narrow de⯑file near the ſea-ſhore, where the water was ſo high, that his men were up to the middle in paſſing it, he advanced to Coelenoe, a city of Phrygia, ſituated on the banks of the river Marſyas, which the fic⯑tions of the poets have rendered ſo famous. This place he immediately inveſted. The garriſon at firſt made ſome ſhow of reſiſtance. But finding them⯑ſelves unable to withſtand the vigorous and repeated aſſaults of the Grecians, they promiſed to ſurrender at the end of ſixty days, provided they were not re⯑lieved within that period; and as no aid arrived within the ſtipulated time, the place was delivered up according to agreement.

From thence Alexander marched to Gordium, the ſuppoſed reſidence of the celebrated king Midas. Here he was deſirous of ſeeing the famous chariot, to which the Gordian knot was tied. This knot, which faſtened the yoke to the beam, was tied with ſo much intri⯑cacy, that it was impoſſible to diſcover where the involutions began, or where the cords terminated. According to an ancient tradition of the country, an oracle had declared, that the man who could untie it ſhould poſſeſs the empire of Aſia. Alex⯑ander being firmly perſuaded that the oracle was meant for him, after many fruitleſs trials, inſtead of attempting to untie it in the uſual manner, drew his ſword and cut it in pieces, crying out, that that was the only way to untie. The prieſt hailed the omen, and declared that Alexander had fulfilled the oracle.

In the mean time Darius, who now began to be ſeriouſly alarmed for the ſafety of his empire, re⯑ſolved to raiſe an army that might enable him to ſtop the further progreſs of the enemy. Alexander, however, ſtill continued to advance; and having ſubdued Paphlagonia and Cappadocia, he paſſed the ſtraits of Cilicia, where he might eaſily have been [234] oppoſed by a handful of men; but the enemy aban⯑doned them as ſoon as he approached. From thence he marched his whole army to the city of Tarſus, where he arrived juſt in time to ſave it from de⯑ſtruction, as the Perſians had ſet fire to it, to pre⯑vent his becoming maſter of the treaſures it con⯑tained. And here he gave an inſtance of that mag⯑nanimity and elevation of mind, which formed ſo diſtinguiſhed a part of his character. For having thrown himſelf into the river Cydnus, which runs through this city, in order to bathe, he was in⯑ſtantly ſeized with ſuch a violent ſhivering, as ſeemed likely in a little time to put an end to his life. At firſt all his phyſicians were afraid to adminiſter the neceſſary medicines, knowing they muſt be an⯑ſwerable for the conſequences that enſued. But at laſt one of them, whoſe name was Philip, who had always attended upon Alenxander from his youth, and loved him with the utmoſt tenderneſs, not only as his ſovereign but his child, raiſing himſelf above all prudential conſiderations, and being more con⯑cerned for the life of his prince than his own ſafety, offered to give him a doſe, which, though not vio⯑lent, would be ſpeedy in its effects, and deſired three days to prepare it. At this propoſal every one trembled, except Alexander himſelf, who was af⯑flicted on no other account, than becauſe it would keep him ſo long from appearing at the head of his army.

In the mean time he received a letter from Par⯑menio, who had been left behind in Cappadocia, adviſing him to beware of Philip, his phyſician; for that Darius had bribed him by the promiſe of a thouſand talents, and his ſiſter in marriage. This letter at firſt gave him ſome uneaſineſs, as he could not believe that Parmenio had wrote it without having received ſome ſuch intelligence. But con⯑fidence in a phyſician, whoſe unſhaken fidelity and [235] attachment he had experienced from his youth, at laſt removed all ſuſpicion. He therefore put the letter under his bolſter without acquainting anyone with the contents; and when Philip entered with the medicine, he readily took it from him, and holding the letter in one hand and the cup in the other, he delivered the former to Philip, while he himſelf drank off the draught without diſcovering the leaſt ſign of fear. This was a very ſingular and affecting ſcene, Alexander looking at Philip with all the marks of the moſt perfect confidence and aſſurance, while Philip in peruſing the letter, ſeemed aſtoniſhed at the accuſation, and called upon the gods to witneſs his innocence; ſometimes lifting up his hands to heaven, and then throwing himſelf down by the bedſide, and beſeeching Alexander to lay aſide all ſuſpicion, and rely on his fidelity. At firſt the medicine worked ſo violently, and brought Alexander ſo low, as ſeemed to favour Parmenio's accuſation; but at length it produced the deſired effect, and the king in a few days recovered his wonted vigour.

Meanwhile Darius was advancing againſt him at the head of an immenſe army, of which, however, he did not know how to avail himſelf; for, inſtead of remaining in the open country, where he might have extended his forces, and ſurrounded the enemy, he fooliſhly marched into the narrow paſſes, where his great ſuperiority of numbers could be of very little ſervice. The reaſon he aſſigned for taking this precipitate ſtep was, that he was afraid Alex⯑ander would eſcape him. But this was a needleſs fear. Alexander was as deſirous of meeting him, as he was of meeting Alexander. His courtiers, however, encouraged him in the opinion, that Alexander was endeavouring to avoid him; and that if once he could bring this invader of his em⯑pire to an engagement, he might depend upon ob⯑taining [236] a complete victory. There was one man, indeed, in his army, who had the courage and the honeſty to tell him the truth. This was Cari⯑demus, the Athenian, of whom when Darius aſked whether he thought him ſtrong enough to defeat the enemy, Caridemus replied in the following terms: ‘"Permit me, Sir, to ſpeak truth now, when only my ſincerity can be of ſervice; your preſent ſplen⯑dour, your prodigious numbers which have drained the eaſt, may be terrible indeed to your effeminate neighbours, but can be no way dreadful to a Ma⯑cedonian army. Diſcipline, cloſe combat, courage, is all their care; every ſingle man among them is almoſt himſelf a general. Theſe men are not to be repulſed by the ſtones of ſlingers, or ſtakes burnt at the end; none but troops armed like themſelves can ſtop their career; let therefore the gold and ſilver, which glitters in your camp, be exchanged for ſoldiers and ſteel, for weapons for and hearts that are able to defend you."’ Darius, though naturally of a mild diſpoſition, had all his paſſions rouzed at the freedom of this man's advice; he ordered him at once to be executed; Caridemus all the time cry⯑ing out, that his avenger was at hand. Darius had ſoon reaſon to repent his raſhneſs, and experienced, when it was too late, the truth of all that had been told him.

That prince now advanced towards the river Euphrates, but with a parade that more reſembled the triumphal entry of a ſovereign into his capital after ſome important victory, than the march of a warrior who was going to put every thing to hazard of the ſword. Over his tent was exhibited the image of the ſun in jewels, while wealth and mag⯑nificence ſhone in every quarter of the army.

Firſt they carried before him ſilver altars, on which lay fire, called by them ſacred and eternal; and theſe were followed by the Magi, ſinging hymns [237] after the manner of their country: they were accom⯑panied by three hundred and ſixty-five youths (equal⯑ling the number of days in a year) clothed in purple robes. Afterwards came a chariot conſecrated to Ju⯑piter, drawn by white horſes, and followed by a courſer of prodigious ſize, to whom they gave the name of the Sun's horſe; and the equerries were dreſſed in white, each having a golden rod in his hand.

Ten chariots, adorned with ſculptures in gold and ſilver, followed. Then marched a body of horſe, compoſed of twelve nations, whoſe manners and cuſtoms were various, and all armed in a dif⯑ferent manner. Next advanced thoſe whom the Perſians called The Immortals, amounting to ten thouſand, who ſurpaſſed the reſt of the barbarians in the ſumptuouſneſs of their apparel. They all wore golden collars, and were clothed in robes of gold tiſſue, with veſtments having ſleeves to them quite covered with precious ſtones.

Thirty paces from them followed thoſe called the king's relations, to the number of fifteen thouſand, in habits very much reſembling thoſe of women; and more remarkable for the vain pomp of their dreſs, than the glitter of their arms.

Thoſe called the Doriphori came after: they car⯑ried the king's cloak, and walked before his chariot, in which he ſeemed to ſit as on a high throne. This chariot was enriched on both ſides with images of the gods, in gold and ſilver; and from the middle of the yoke, which was covered with jewels, roſe two ſtatues, a cubit in height, the one repre⯑ſenting war, the other peace, having a golden eagle, with wings extended, as ready to take flight.

But nothing could equal the magnificence of the king: he was clothed in a veſt of purple, ſtriped with ſilver, and over it a long robe, glittering all over with precious ſtones, that repreſented two fal⯑cons, ruſhing from the clouds, and pecking at one [238] another. Around his waiſt he wore a golden gir⯑dle, after the manner of women, whence his ſci⯑mitar hung, the ſcabbard of which flamed all over with gems; on his head he wore a tiara, or mitre, round which was a fillet of blue mixed with white.

On each ſide of him walked two hundred of his neareſt relations, followed by two thouſand pikemen, whoſe pikes were adorned with ſilver, and tipped with gold; and laſtly thirty thouſand infantry, who compoſed the rear-guard. Theſe were followed by the king's horſes, four hundred in number, all which were led.

About one hundred, or a hundred and twenty paces from thence, came Syſigambis, Darius's mo⯑ther, ſeated on a throne, and his conſort on ano⯑ther; with the ſeveral female attendants of both queens, riding on horſeback. Afterwards came fifteen large chariots, in which were the king's children, and thoſe who had the care of their edu⯑cation, with a band of eunuchs, who are to this day in great eſteem in the eaſt. Then marched the concubines, to the number of three hundred and ſixty, in the equipage of queens, followed by ſix hundred mules, and three hundred camels, which carried the king's treaſure, and guarded by a grea [...] body of archers. After theſe came the wives of the crown-officers and of the greateſt lords of the court ſeated alſo in chariots; and then the ſuttlers, ſer⯑vants, and other followers of the army. In the rea [...] were a body of light-armed troops, with their com⯑manders, who cloſed the whole march.

Such was the ſplendor of this pageant monarch who, while, he excited the admiration of his own barbarous ſubjects, inſpired the Macedonians with nothing but contempt for his military ſkill, and [...] ſtrong deſire to make themſelves maſters of thoſe riches, of which he made ſo vain and pompous a diſplay.

[239]Alexander and Darius, being equally eager to come to an engagement, were now advancing againſt each other; and, after various marches and counter-marches, they at laſt met in the neighbour⯑hood of Iſſus.

The ſpot where the battle was fought, and which lay near this city, was bounded on one ſide by the mountains, and on the other by the ſea. The plain, that was ſituated between them, muſt have been of conſiderable extent, as the two armies en⯑camped in it; and Darius's army, as we have al⯑ready obſerved, was vaſtly numerous. The river Pinarus ran through the middle of this plain, from the mountain to the ſea, and divided it nearly into two equal parts.

Alexander drew up his army in the following order. He poſted at the extremity of the right wing, which ſtood near the mountains, the Argyra⯑ſpides, commanded by Nicanor; then the phalanx of Coenus, and afterwards that of Perdiccas, which terminated in the center of the main army. On the extremity of the left wing he poſted the pha⯑lanx of Amyntas, then that of Ptolemy, and laſtly that of Meleager. Thus the famous Macedonian pha⯑lanx was formed, which we find was compoſed of ſix diſtinct bodies. Each of theſe were headed by able generals; but Alexander, being always gene⯑raliſſimo, had conſequently the command of the whole army. The horſe were placed on the two wings; the Macedonians with the Theſſalians on the right, and the Peloponneſians with the other allies on the left. Parmenio commanded the left wing; Alexander himſelf conducted the right; while the Agrians (led on by Attalus) and ſome other troops lately arrived from Greece, were deſtined to oppoſe thoſe whom Darius had poſted on the mountains.

As for Darius's army, it was drawn up in the following order. Having heard that Alexander was [240] advancing againſt him in battle array, he com⯑manded thirty thouſand horſe, and twenty thouſand bowmen, to croſs the river Pinarus, to keep the enemy in awe, and give him time to draw up his army on the hither ſide without interruption. In the center he poſted the thirty thouſand Greeks in his ſervice, who doubtleſs were the flower and chie ſtrength of his army, and were not at all inferior in bravery to the Macedonian phalanx, with thirty thouſand barbarians on their right, and as many or their left. The field of battle not being able to contain a greater number, theſe were all that were placed in the front line, the reſt being ranged behind them, and no doubt to a very great depth, conſidering the multitude of the Perſian forces. On the mountain which lay to the left, againſt Alex⯑ander's right wing, Darius poſted twenty thouſand men, who were ſo diſpoſed in the ſeveral windings of the mountains, that ſome of them were before Alexander's army, and others behind it.

Darius having put his army in battle array, and appointed commanders to the different parts of it, took poſt himſelf in the center, according to the cuſtom of the Perſian monarchs. He was deter⯑mined to keep on the hither ſide of the river, that ſo, if the Macedonians attempted to croſs it, he might attack them while in the middle of the ſtream, and oblige them to fight in that diſadvan⯑tageous ſituation.

This, however, was not ſufficient to damp the ſpirit, nor to check the progreſs of Alexander. He boldly advanced to the ſide of the river, and plung⯑ing into it with great impetuoſity, notwithſtanding the ſhowers of arrows that were poured upon him by the Perſians, he ſoon gained the oppoſite ſhore where attacking the enemy ſword in hand, he threw them, in a little time, into confuſion. Eagerly de⯑ſiring to engage Darius, and to have the glory o [...] [241] killing him with his own hand, he was juſt upon the point of charging that monarch, when Oxathres, Darius's brother, obſerving the danger to which he was expoſed, ruſhed before his chariot with the horſe he commanded. This, though it ſaved Da⯑rius's life, was the immediate cauſe of the loſs of the battle. The horſes, that drew his chariot, be⯑came ſo unruly, and ſhook the yoke with ſo much violence, that they almoſt overturned the king; who ſeeing himſelf going to fall alive into the hands of his enemies, leaped down, and mounted another chariot. The reſt, obſerving this, fled as faſt as poſſible, and throwing down their arms made the beſt of their way. Alexander received a ſlight wound in his thigh, but it was not attended with any bad conſequences.

In the mean time, while the Macedonians under their king had routed the Perſians under Darius, the reſt of them, who were engaged with the Greeks, met with a ſtouter and more obſtinate reſiſtance; but Alexander, having purſued the fugitives a ſhort way, returned immediately to the field of battle, and attacking the Grecians vigorouſly in flank, he gave them a total and complete overthrow. The enemy now made no further reſiſtance, but fled pre⯑c [...]pitately on all ſides. Some of them ſtruck into the high road, which led directly to Perſia; others ran into woods and lonely mountains; and a ſmall number returned to their camp, which the victori⯑ous army had already taken and plundered. In this battle ſixty thouſand of the Perſian infantry, and ten thouſand horſemen were ſlain; forty thouſand were taken priſoners; while of Alexander's army were fell but two hundred and eighty in all.

With regard to Darius, the inſtant he ſaw his left wing broke, he was one of the firſt who fled in [...]s chariot; but getting afterwards into craggy, [...]gged places, he mounted on horſeback, throwing [242] away his bow, ſhield, and royal mantle; and had it not been for the neceſſity Alexander was under of deſiſting from the purſuit, in order to return and complete the overthrow of the Greeks, he would probably have fallen alive into the hands of the conqueror.

Syſigambis, Darius's mother, and that monarch's queen (who was alſo his ſiſter) were found remain⯑ing in the camp, with two of the king's daughters, his ſon (yet a child) and ſome Perſian ladies; for the reſt had been carried to Damaſcus, with part of Darius's treaſure, and all ſuch things as contributed only to the luxury and magnificence of his court. No more than three thouſand talents were found in his camp; but the reſt of the treaſure fell after⯑wards into the hands of Parmenio, at the taking of the city of Damaſcus.

The evening after the engagement Alexander in⯑vited his chief officers to a feaſt, at which himſelf preſided, notwithſtanding the wound he had that day received in battle. The feſtivity however had ſcarce begun, when they were interrupted by ſad la⯑mentations from a neighbouring tent, which at firſt they conſidered as a freſh alarm; but they were ſoon informed, that the noiſe came from the tent in which the wife and mother of Darius were kept, who were expreſſing their ſorrow for the ſup⯑poſed death of that monarch. An eunuch, who had ſeen his cloak in the hands of a ſoldier, imagin⯑ing he was killed, brought them theſe dreadfu [...] tidings. Alexander immediately ſent Leonatas, one of his principal officers, to undeceive them; and next day he himſelf paid them a viſit, when he did every thing in his power to comfort and ſolace them. He told them that no part of their former ſtate ſhould be withheld from them; but that they ſhould enjoy every convenience and accommodation as in the court of Darius. Obſerving the infant ſon o [...] [243] Darius ſtanding by his mother, he took him in his arms. The child, without diſcovering the leaſt ſign of terror, ſtretched out his arms to the con⯑queror, who being affected with its confidence, ſaid to Hephaeſtion, who attended him, Oh! that Darius had ſome ſhare, ſome portion of this infant's generoſity. That he might prevent every ſuſpicion of deſign on the chaſtity of Darius's conſort, and, at the ſame time, remove every cauſe of fear or anxiety from her mind, he reſolved never to viſit her tent more, although ſhe was one of the moſt beautiful women of her time. This moderation, ſo becoming in a royal conqueror, gave occaſion to that noted obſervation of Plutarch, ‘"That the princeſſes of Perſia lived in an enemy's camp, as if they had been in ſome ſacred temple, unſeen, un⯑approached, and unmoleſted."’

Syſigambis was diſtinguiſhed by extraordinary marks of Alexander's favour; Darius himſelf [...]ould not have treated her with greater reſpect than [...]d that generous prince. He allowed her to regulate the funerals of all the Perſians of the royal family, who had fallen in battle; and at her interceſſion he pardoned ſeveral of Darius's nobles, who had juſtly [...]ncurred his diſpleaſure. This magnanimous con⯑tact has done more honour to Alexander's character, [...]an all his ſplendid victories. The gentleneſs of [...]s manners to the ſuppliant captives, his chaſtity and continence, when he had it in his power to en⯑ [...]ce obedience, were ſetting an example to he⯑ [...]oes, which it has been the pride of many ſince to [...]tate.

The victory at Iſſus was ſoon followed by a va⯑ [...]ty of other ſucceſſes. All Phoenicia, except [...]re, the capital city, ſubmitted to Alexander. [...] the ſame time Ariſtodemus, the Perſian ad⯑ [...]al, was defeated at ſea, and a great part of his [...]eet taken. The city of Damaſcus too, in which [244] Darius's treaſures were depoſited, ſurrendered t [...] Parmenio. This place might have made a vigorou [...] defence; but, by the treachery of the governor, i [...] was yielded up without making the leaſt reſiſtance [...] Parmenio found in it, beſides an immenſe ſum o [...] money and a vaſt quantity of plate and baggage [...] three hundred and twenty-nine of Darius's con⯑cubines, and a multitude of officers, whoſe buſineſ [...] it was to regulate every thing relating to that mo⯑narch's entertainments.

In the mean time, Darius having travelled a [...] night on horſeback arrived in the morning at So⯑chus, where he aſſembled the remains of his army Dejected, as he was, with his late misfortune, ſtil [...] however, his pride did not deſert him. He wrote letter to Alexander, in which he rather treated him as an inferior. He commanded, rather than re⯑queſted him to deliver up his wife, mother, an [...] children, upon receiving a proper ranſom. Wit [...] regard to the empire, he would fight with him ſo it upon equal terms, and bring an equal number o [...] troops into the field. To this Alexander replied that he ſcorned to hold any correſpondence with [...] man whom he had already overcome; that if he ap⯑peared before him in a ſuppliant poſture, he wou [...] give up his wife and mother without ranſom; tha [...] he knew how to conquer, and to oblige th [...] conquered.

This propoſal having produced no effect, Alex⯑ander proceeded to receive the ſubmiſſion of th [...] neighbouring ſtates and people. The Sidonia [...] were the firſt that made him a tender of their all [...] ⯑giance, in oppoſition to Strato their king, who ha [...] declared in favour of Darius. Alexander dethron [...] him, and permitted Hephaeſtion (his principal f [...] ⯑vourite) to elect, in his ſtead, whomſoever of t [...] Sidonians he ſhould judge moſt worthy of that ex⯑alted ſtation.

[245]Hephaeſtion was quartered at the houſe of two brothers who were young, and of the moſt conſi⯑derable family in the city, and to theſe he offered the crown. But they refuſed it, telling him, that, according to the laws of their country, no perſon could aſcend the throne, unleſs he were of the blood royal. Hephaeſtion admiring this greatneſs of ſoul, which could contemn what others ſtrive to obtain by fire and ſword, ‘"continue," ſays he to them, "in this way of thinking, you who ſeem ſenſible that it is much more glorious to refuſe a diadem than to accept it. However, name me ſome perſon of the royal family, who may remember when he is king, that it was you that ſet the crown on his head."’ The brothers obſerving that ſeveral, through exceſſive ambition, aſpired to this high ſtation, and, to obtain it, paid a ſervile court to Alexander's fa⯑vourites, declared, that they did not know any per⯑ſon more worthy of the diadem than one Abdolony⯑mus, deſcended, though in a remote degree, from the royal family; but who, at the ſame time, was ſo poor, that he was obliged to earn his bread by manual labour in a garden without the city. His honeſty and integrity had reduced him, like many more, to ſuch extreme poverty. Wholly buſied about his humble occupation, he did not hear the claſhing of the arms which had ſhaken all Aſia.

Hephaeſtion approving of their choice, the two brothers went in queſt of Abdolonymus, whom they found weeding in his garden. When they ſa⯑luted him king, he began at firſt to ſtare at them, and thinking they were in jeſt, not in earneſt, aſked them, whether they were not aſhamed to offer him ſuch an inſult. But as he made a greater re⯑ſiſtance than ſuited their inclinations, they them⯑ſelves waſhed him, and throwing over his ſhoulders a purple robe, richly embroidered with gold, they [246] repeatedly aſſured him that he was now king Sidon, and conducted him to the palace.

The news of this were immediately ſprea [...] over the whole city. Moſt of the inhabitan [...] were overjoyed at it; but ſome murmure [...] eſpecially the rich, who deſpiſing Abdolony⯑mus's former abject ſtate, could not help expre [...] ⯑ſing their reſentment at his preſent elevation. Alex⯑ander, therefore, commanded the new-electe [...] prince to be ſent for, and after ſurveying him ve [...] attentively, ſaid, ‘"Thy air and mien do not con⯑tradict what is related of thy extraction; but I ſhoul [...] be glad to know with what frame of mind the boreſt thy poverty."’ ‘"Would to the gods (r [...] ⯑piled he) that I may bear this crown with equ [...] patience. Theſe hands have procured me all I d [...] ⯑ſired; and whilſt I poſſeſſed nothing, I wanted no⯑thing."’ This anſwer gave Alexander an high ide [...] of Abdolonymus's virtue; ſo that he not only pr [...] ⯑ſented him with the rich furniture which had b [...] ⯑longed to Strato, and part of the Perſian plunde [...] but likewiſe annexed one of the neighbouring pro⯑vinces to his dominions.

All Phoenicia, as we have already obſerved, wa [...] now ſubdued, except Tyre the capital city. Th [...] city was juſtly entitled the queen of the ſea, the element bringing to it the tribute of all nation [...] She boaſted her having firſt invented navigation and taught mankind the art of braving the wind and waves by the aſſiſtance of a frail bark. Th [...] happy ſituation of Tyre, at the upper end of the Mediterranean; the conveniency of its ports which were both ſafe and capacious; and the cha⯑racter of its inhabitants, who were induſtrious, ha⯑borious, patient, and extremely courteous to ſtrangers, invited thither merchants from all parts of the globe; ſo that it might be conſidered, not [...] [247] much as a city belonging to any particular nation, as the common city of all nations, and the centre of their commerce.

Alexander thought it neceſſary both for his glory and his intereſt to take this city. The ſpring was now coming on. Tyre was at that time ſeated in an iſland of the ſea, about a quarter of a league from the continent. It was ſurrounded with a ſtrong wall, an hundred and fifty feet high, which the waves of the ſea waſhed; and the Carthaginians, a colony from Tyre, a mighty people, and ſove⯑reigns of the ocean, promiſed to come to the aſſiſt⯑ance of their parent ſtate. Encouraged, therefore, by theſe favourable circumſtances, the Tyrians de⯑termined not to ſurrender, but to hold out the place to the laſt extremity. This reſolution, however imprudent, was certainly magnanimous; but it was ſoon after followed by an act, which was as blame⯑able as the other was praiſe-worthy. Alexander was deſirous of gaining the place rather by treaty than by force of arms, and with this view he ſent heralds into the town with offers of peace; but the inha⯑bitants were ſo far from liſtening to his propoſals, or endeavouring to avert his reſentment by any kind of conceſſion, that they actually killed his am⯑baſſadors, and threw their bodies from the top of the walls into the ſea. It is eaſy to imagine what effect ſo ſhocking an outrage muſt produce in a mind like Alexander's. He inſtantly reſolved to beſiege the place, and not to deſiſt till he had made himſelf maſter of it, and razed it to the ground.

As Tyre was divided from the continent by an arm of the ſea, there was neceſſity for filling up the intermediate ſpace with a bank or pier, before the p [...]ace could be cloſely inveſted. This work, ac⯑cordingly, was immediately undertaken, and in a great meaſure completed, when all the wood, of which it was principally compoſed, was unexpect⯑edly [248] burned by means of a fire-ſhip ſent in by the enemy. The damage, however, was very ſoon re⯑paired, and the mole rendered more perfect than formerly, and carried nearer to the town, when all of a ſudden a furious tempeſt aroſe, which under⯑mining the ſtone-work that ſupported the wood, laid the whole at once in the bottom of the ſea.

Two ſuch diſaſters, following ſo cloſe on the heels of each other, would have cooled the ardour of almoſt any man except Alexander; but nothing could daunt his invincible ſpirit, or make him re⯑linquiſh an enterprize he had once undertaken. He therefore reſolved to proſecute the ſiege; and in order to encourage his men to ſecond his views, he took care to inſpire them with a belief that heaven was on their ſide, and would ſoon crown their labours with the wiſhed-for ſucceſs. At one time he gave out, that Apollo was about to abandon the Tyrians to their doom; and that, to prevent his flight, they had bound him to his pedeſtal with a golden chain: at another he pretended, that Her⯑cules, the tutelar deity of Macedon, had appeared to him, and, having opened proſpects of the moſt glorious kind, had invited him to proceed to take poſſeſſion of Tyre. Theſe favourable circum⯑ſtances were announced by the augurs, as intimations from above; and every heart was, of conſequence, cheered. The ſoldiers, as if but that moment ar⯑rived before the city, now forgetting all the toils they had undergone, and the diſappointments they had ſuffered, began to raiſe a new mole, at which they worked inceſſantly.

To protect them from being annoyed by the ſhips of the enemy, Alexander fitted out a fleet, with which he not only ſecured his own men, but offered the Tyrians battle; which, however, they thought proper to decline, and withdrew all their gallies into the harbour.

[249]The beſiegers, now allowed to proceed unmo⯑leſted, went on with the work with the utmoſt vi⯑gour, and in a little time completed it, and brought it cloſe to the walls. A general attack was there⯑fore reſolved on, both by ſea and land; and with this view the king having manned his gallies, and joined them together with ſtrong cables, ordered them to approach the walls about midnight, and attack the city with reſolution. But juſt as the aſſault was going to begin, a dreadful ſtorm aroſe, which not only ſhook the ſhips aſunder, but even ſhattered them in a terrible manner, ſo that they were all of them obliged to be towed towards the ſhore, without having made the leaſt impreſſion on the city.

The Tyrians were elated with this gleam of good fortune: but their joy was but of ſhort duration; for in a little time after they received intelligence from Carthage, that they muſt expect no aſſiſtance from that quarter, as the Carthaginians themſelves were then overawed by a powerful army of Syra⯑cuſans, who had invaded their country. Reduced, therefore, to the hard neceſſity of depending en⯑tirely upon their own ſtrength and their own re⯑ſources, the Tyrians ſent all their women and chil⯑dren to Carthage, and prepared to encounter the very laſt extremities. For now the enemy were attacking the place with greater ſpirit and activity than ever. And, to do the Tyrians juſtice, it muſt be acknowledged, that they employed a num⯑ber of methods of defence, which, conſidering the rude ſtate of the art of war at that early period, were really aſtoniſhing. They warded off the darts diſcharged from the baliſtas againſt them, by the aſſiſtance of turning-wheels, which either broke them to pieces, or carried them another way. They deadened the violence of the ſtones that were hu [...]led at them, by ſetting up ſails and curtains, made of a ſoft ſubſtance, which eaſily gave way. [250] To annoy the ſhips which advanced againſt their walls, they fixed grappling irons and ſcythes to joiſts or beams; then ſtraining their catapultas (an enormous kind of croſs-bow) they laid thoſe great pieces of timber upon them inſtead of arrows, and ſhot them off on a ſudden at the enemy: theſe cruſhed ſome of their ſhips by their great weight, and, by means of the hooks or hanging ſcythes, tore others to pieces. They alſo had brazen ſhields, which they drew red-hot out of the fire; and fill⯑ing theſe with burning ſand, hurled them in an in⯑ſtant from the top of the wall upon the enemy. There was nothing the Macedonians dreaded ſo much as this fatal inſtrument; for the moment the burning ſand got to the fleſh through the crevices of the armour, it penetrated to the very bone, and ſtuck ſo cloſe that there was no pulling it off; ſo that the ſoldiers throwing down their arms, and tearing their clothes to pieces, were in this man⯑ner expoſed, naked and defenceleſs, to the ſhot of the enemy.

Alexander finding the reſources, and even the courage of the Tyrians increaſed, in proportion as the ſiege continued, reſolved to make a laſt effort, and attack them at once both by ſea and land, in order, if poſſible, to overwhelm them with the multiplicity of dangers to which they would be thus expoſed. With this view having manned his gal⯑lies with ſome of the braveſt of his troops, he com⯑manded them to advance againſt the enemy's fleet, while he himſelf took poſt at the head of his men on the mole. And now the attack began on all ſides with irreſiſtible and unremitting fury. Where⯑ever the battering-rams had beat down any part of the wall, and the bridges were thrown out, inſtantly the Argyraſpides mounted the breach with the ut⯑moſt valour, being led on by Admetus, one of the braveſt officers in the army, who was killed by [251] the thruſt of a ſpear, as he was encouraging his ſoldiers.

The preſence of the king, and the example he ſet, fired his troops with unuſual bravery. He himſelf aſcended one of the towers on the mole, which was of a prodigious height, and there was expoſed to the greateſt dangers he had ever yet en⯑countered; for being immediately known by his inſignia, and the richneſs of his armour, he ſerved as a mark for all the arrows of the enemy. On this occaſion he performed wonders, killing with javelins ſeveral of thoſe who defended the wall; then advancing nearer to them, he forced ſome with his ſword, and others with his ſhield, either into the city, or the ſea, the tower on which he fought almoſt touching the wall. He ſoon aſcended the wall, followed by his principal officers, and poſ⯑ſeſſed himſelf of two towers, and the ſpace between them. The battering-rams had already made ſe⯑veral breaches; the fleet had forced its way into the harbour; and ſome of the Macedonians had poſſeſſed themſelves of the towers which were aban⯑doned. The Tyrians ſeeing the enemy maſters of their rampart, retired towards an open place, called Agenor, and there ſtood their ground; but Alex⯑ander marching up with his regiment of body⯑guards, killed part of them, and obliged the reſt to fly. At the ſame time Tyre being taken on that ſide which lay towards the harbour, a general car⯑nage of the citizens enſued, and none were ſpared, except the few that fell into the hands of the Sido⯑nians in Alexander's army, who conſidering the Ty⯑rians as countrymen, granted them protection, and carried them privately on board their ſhips. The numbers that were ſlaughtered on this occaſion are almoſt incredible: even after conqueſt the victor's reſentment did not ſubſide; he ordered no leſs than two thouſand men, who were taken in the ſtorm, [252] to be nailed to croſſes along the the ſhore. The number of priſoners amounted to thirty thouſand, and were all ſold as ſlaves in different parts of the world. Thus fell Tyre, that had been for many ages the moſt flouriſhing city in the world, and had ſpread the arts of commerce into the remoteſt regions.

While Alexander was employed in the ſiege of Tyre, he received a ſecond letter from Darius, in which that monarch treated him with greater re⯑ſpect than before. He now gave him the title of king; he offered him ten thouſand talents as a ran⯑ſom for his captive mother and queen; and he pro⯑miſed him his daughter Statira in marriage, with all the country he had conquered as far as the river Euphrates, provided he would agree to a peace. Theſe terms were ſo advantageous, that when the king debated upon them in council, Parmenio, one of his generals, could not help obſerving, that he would certainly accept of them, were he Alex⯑ander. ‘"And ſo would I," replied the king, "were I Parmenio."’ But deeming it inconſiſtent with his dignity to liſten to any propoſals from a man whom he had ſo lately overcome, he haughtily rejected them, and ſcorned to accept of that as a favour which he already conſidered as his own by conqueſt.

From Tyre Alexander marched to Jeruſalem, fully determined to puniſh that city for having re⯑fuſed to ſupply his army with proviſions during the ſiege; but his reſentment was mollified by a depu⯑tation of the citizens coming out to meet him, with their high-prieſt, Jaddua, before them, dreſſed in white, and having a mitre on his head, on the front of which the name of God was written. The moment the king perceived the high-prieſt, he ad⯑vanced towards him with an air of the moſt profound reſpect, bowed his body, adored the auguſt name upon [253] his front, and ſaluted him who wore it with religious veneration. And when ſome of his courtiers ex⯑preſſed their ſurpriſe, that he, who was adored by every one, ſhould adore the high-prieſt of the Jews, ‘"I do not," ſaid he, "adore the high-prieſt, but the God whoſe miniſter he is; for whilſt I was at Dium in Macedonia, my mind wholly fixed on the great deſign of the Perſian war, as I was revolving the methods how to conquer Aſia, this very man, dreſſed in the ſame robes, appeared to me in a dream, exhorted me to baniſh my fear, bade me croſs the Helleſpont boldly, and aſſured me that God would march at the head of my army, and give me the victory over the Perſians."’ This ſpeech, delivered with an air of ſincerity, no doubt had its effect in encouraging the army, and eſtabliſhing an opinion that his miſſion was from heaven.

From Jeruſalem he went to Gaza, where having met with a more obſtinate reſiſtance than he ex⯑pected, he cut the whole garriſon, conſiſting of ten thouſand men, to pieces; and not ſatisfied with this act of cruelty, he cauſed holes to be bored through the heels of Boetis, the governor, and tying him with cords to the back of his chariot, he dragged him in this manner round the walls of the city. This he did in imitation of Achilles, whom Homer deſcribes as having dragged Hector round the walls of Troy in the ſame manner; but it was reading the poet to very little, or rather indeed to very bad purpoſe, to imitate his hero in the moſt unworthy part of his character.

Alexander, having left a garriſon in Gaza, turned his arms towards Egypt, of which he made himſelf maſter without oppoſition. Here he formed the de⯑ſign of viſiting the temple of Jupiter, which was ſituated in the ſandy deſerts of Lybia, at the diſtance of twelve days journey from Memphis, the capital of Egypt. His chief view in going thither was to [254] get himſelf acknowledged the ſon of Jupiter, an honour he had long aſpired to. In this journey he founded the city of Alexandria, which ſoon be⯑came one of the moſt capital towns in the world for commerce. Nothing could be more dreary than the deſert through which he paſſed, nor any thing more charming, according to the fabulous accounts of the poets, than the particular ſpot where the temple was ſituated. It was a perfect paradiſe in the midſt of an immeaſurable wild. At laſt having reached the place, and appeared before the altar of the deity, the prieſt, who was no ſtranger to Alexander's wiſhes, declared him to be the ſon of Jupiter. The conqueror, elated with this high compliment, aſked, whether he ſhould have ſucceſs in his expedition: the prieſt anſwered, that he ſhould be monarch of the world. The conqueror enquired, if his father's murderers were puniſhed: the prieſt replied, that his father Jupiter was immortal, but that the murderers of Philip had been all extirpated.

From this time forward Alexander ſuppoſed him⯑ſelf, or would have it ſuppoſed by others, that he was the ſon of Jupiter. Tranſported however, as he was, with the idea of being of divine origin, he never forgot the duties of humanity, nor even thoſe of generoſity, to his female captives. For Statira, Darius's conſort, dying in child-bed about this period, he honoured her with as grand and mag⯑nificent a funeral as ſhe could have received, had ſhe expired in her huſband's palace. Darius was ſo deeply affected with this act of magnanimity in his enemy, that, upon receiving the firſt intelligence of it, he is ſaid to have lift up his eyes to heaven, and to have expreſſed himſelf thus: ‘"Ye Gods, the guardians of our births, and who decree the fate of nations, grant that I may be enabled to leave the Perſian ſtate as rich and flouriſhing as I ſound [255] it, that I may have it in my power to make Alex⯑ander a proper return for his generoſity to the deareſt objects of my affection. But if the duration of this empire is near at an end, and the greatneſs of Perſia about to be forgotten, may none but Alex⯑ander be permitted to ſit on the throne of Cyrus."’

Generous, however, as Alexander was to the wife and mother of Darius, he ſtill refuſed to liſten to any terms of accommodation from that monarch himſelf, who was therefore obliged to aſſemble ano⯑ther army, in order, at leaſt, to make one effort more for the preſervation of his crown and empire. He accordingly exerted himſelf with great ſpirit and activity, and in a little time was able to raiſe a ſecond army half as numerous again as the former; and with this he now advanced towards the Tigris, in order, if poſſible, to prevent Alexander from paſſing that river. This, however, he was not able to effect. Alexander paſſed the Tigris with greater eaſe and rapidity than he had paſſed the Granicus; and drawing up his army, on the farther bank, he continued there encamped for two days in expecta⯑tion of the enemy. But finding that Darius was not diſpoſed to come in ſearch of him, he reſolved to go in queſt of Darius. The minds of his men, however, were conſiderably damped by an eclipſe of the moon, which happened about that time; for as the cauſe of this phaenomenon was not then known, it was always ſuppoſed to be the prognoſtic of ſome great calamity. But Alexander who was as good a politician as a ſoldier, immediately produced ſome Egyptian ſoothſayers, who declared, that the eclipſe portended calamities not to the Greeks, but to the Perſians. And having, by this artful con⯑trivance, revived the ſpirits of his men, he led them on to meet the enemy, and began his march at midnight.

[256]At break of day he received intelligence, that Darius was but twenty miles diſtant; and at the ſame time a meſſenger arrived from that monarch with freſh propoſals of peace, which were ſtill more advantageous than the former. But Alexander re⯑jected all his offers; proudly replying, that the world would not admit of two ſuns, nor of two ſovereigns. All hopes of accommodation, there⯑fore, being now cut off, both ſides prepared them⯑ſelves for battle, equally irritated, and equally am⯑bitious. Darius pitched his camp in a plain near the village of Gangamela, and at ſome diſtance from the city of Arbela, from which laſt place the battle that enſued is uſually denominated.

Alexander being informed of this, continued his march till he arrived within a few miles of the enemy. He there encamped, and having reſted four days, in order to refreſh his army, he ſet out on the evening of the fifth, with a view of attack⯑ing Darius at day-break; but upon his arrival at the mountains, where he could diſcover the enemy's army, he made a halt, and having aſſembled his general officers, he held a conſultation with them whether they ſhould engage immediately, or pitch their camp in that place. The latter expedient was deemed the moſt eligible, as it would give them an opportunity of viewing the field of battle, and the manner in which the enemy were drawn up. They therefore encamped in the ſame order in which they marched; and, in the mean time, Alexander, at the head of his light armed infan⯑try, and his royal regiments, marched round the plain in which the battle was to be fought.

Parmento adviſed him to attack the enemy by night, and take them by ſurprize, as by this means he would be ſure of giving them a complete over⯑throw; but Alexander replied, that he ſcorned to ſteal a victory, and that he was determined to fight [257] and conquer in broad day-light. So confident, indeed, was he of ſucceſs, that the night imme⯑diately preceding the action he ſlept more ſoundly than he commonly was wont to do, ſo that Parmenio was obliged to awake him in the morning; and upon that general's expreſſing ſome ſurpriſe at his calmneſs and compoſure on the eve of a battle, in which his whole fortune lay at ſtake, ‘"How can I, replied he, be otherwiſe than calm, when I ſee that the enemy is come to deliver himſelf into my hands?"’ So ſaying, he took up his arms, mounted his horſe, and rode up and down the ranks, exhort⯑ing his men to behave gallantly, and, if poſſible, to ſurpaſs their former fame, and the glory they had al⯑ready acquired.

The iſſue of this battle was ſuch as might natu⯑rally be expected from the character of the comba⯑tants. On the one ſide was a middling army of forty thouſand foot, and about ſeven or eight thou⯑ſand horſe; but theſe were the braveſt and beſt diſ⯑ciplined troops at that time in the world: on the other was a vaſt and almoſt innumerable aſſemblage of men, rather than of ſoldiers, without order, without diſcipline, and conſequently without any common or well directed courage. The Greeks, indeed, in Darius's pay, formed an exception to this general character of his forces; and they behaved on this, as on every other occaſion, with a ſpirit worthy of their former fame. But nothing could reſiſt the ardour and impetuoſity of Alexander at the head of his gallant Macedonians, eſpecially as he had taken care, with his uſual addreſs, to rein⯑force their native courage with the aid of ſuperſti⯑tion. For in the very heat of the action, Ariſtander, the ſoothſayer, clothed in his white robes, and hold⯑ing a branch of laurel in his hand, advanced into the thickeſt of the fight, according to the orders he had received from the king; and crying out, [258] that he ſaw an eagle hovering over Alexander's head (a ſure omen of victory) he ſhewed, with his finger, the pretended bird to the ſoldiers; who re⯑lying on the veracity of the ſoothſayer, imagined that they ſaw it alſo, and now believing themſelves invincible, they renewed the attack with greater ſpirit than ever, and in a little time carried all be⯑fore them.

Alexander expoſed himſelf to danger like the meaneſt ſoldier in his army. He wounded Darius's equerry with a javelin; and had not that prince ſaved himſelf by a precipitate flight, he would pro⯑bably have wounded or killed him likewiſe. Alex⯑ander purſued the fugitives for a conderable way, but was obliged to return, in order to aſſiſt Par⯑menio, who commanded the left wing, and had not yet been able to break the Perſian horſe that op⯑poſed him. Theſe, however, he diſcomfited be⯑fore the arrival of Alexander, who met the enemy retiring from the field of battle, and put them al⯑moſt all to the ſword. And now the Perſians being defeated every where, betook themſelves to flight, and were hotly purſued by the Macedonians, who committed terrible havock among them. Alex⯑ander rode after Darius as far as Arbela, hoping every moment to overtake him; and he had almoſt done ſo, for he reached that city juſt as Darius had quitted it; but though the latter was thus able to ſave his perſon, he was obliged to leave his treaſure behind him, which now fell into the hands of the enemy.

Such was the iſſue of this famous battle, which gave to Alexander the empire of Aſia. The loſs of the Perſians on this occaſion was incredible. It amounted, according to Arrian, to three hundred thouſand men, beſides thoſe who were taken pri⯑ſoners; whereas the loſs of the Macedonians was, comparatively ſpeaking, very inconſiderable, it not [259] exceeding, according to the ſame author, twelve hundred men, and moſt of theſe were cavalry.

The dreadful defeat, which Darius had now ſuſ⯑tained, ſtruck ſuch a terror into the neighbouring provinces, that Alexander met with little or no more oppoſition, in making himſelf maſter of the whole kingdom of Perſia. Babylon ſurrendered to him without ſtriking a blow, as did alſo Suſa; and in both theſe places he found immenſe treaſures. Leaving the mother and children of Darius in Suſa, he advanced into the country of the Uxii, where he met with ſome ſlight reſiſtance from Madathes, the governor, but this he ſoon overcame, and pardoned Madathes at the interceſſion of Syſigambis, to whom that ſatrap was nearly related. Thence he continued his march towards Perſepolis, which he did with the greater expedition, as he had received in⯑telligence from Tiridates, who commanded in that city, that the inhabitants were preparing to plunder Darius's treaſures: but Alexander took care to prevent them by his unexpected arrival, and diſ⯑tributed all the wealth he found there, as well as in other places, among the braveſt and moſt deſerving of his ſoldiers.

As he approached this city, he was met by a large body of men, who exhibited a ſtriking ex⯑ample of the exquiſite miſery, which human beings are ſometimes doomed to ſuffer. Theſe were about four thouſand Greeks, very far advanced in years, who, having been made priſoners of war, had un⯑dergone all the torments which the Perſian tyranny could inflict. The hands of ſome had been cut off, the feet of others; and others again had loſt their noſes and ears. They appeared like ſo many ſpectres, rather than like men; ſpeech being almoſt the only thing by which they were known to be ſuch. Alexander could not refrain from tears at this ſight; and as they irreſiſtibly moved him to [260] commiſerate their condition, he bade them, with the utmoſt tenderneſs, not to deſpond, and aſſured them, that they ſhould again ſee their wives and country. They choſe, however, to remain in a place where misfortune was now became habitual: he therefore rewarded them liberally for their ſuf⯑ferings, and commanded the governor of the pro⯑vince to treat them with mildneſs and reſpect.

Alexander, upon his firſt entry into Perſepolis, was ſatisfied with the treaſures he found there, and ſeems not to have thought of wreaking his reſent⯑ment upon any part of the city itſelf. But one day having drank to exceſs at a public banquet, and the converſation turning upon the cruelties com⯑mitted by the Perſians in Greece, and particularly at Athens, Thais, an Athenian courtezan, who was preſent, ſeized this opportunity of ſaying, that it was mean and puſillanimous, in the higheſt de⯑gree, not to take revenge for ſuch repeated ſlaughters. ‘"This day, cried ſhe, has fully repaid all my wan⯑derings and troubles in Aſia, by putting it in my power, to humble the pride of the Perſian mo⯑narchs. To inſult over the palace of Perſepolis will be a noble deed; but how much more glorious would it be to fire the palace of that Xerxes, who laid the city of Athens in ruins; and to have it told in future times, that a ſingle woman, of Alexander's train, had taken more ſignal vengeance on the ene⯑mies of Greece, than all her former generals had been able to do!"’ All the gueſts applauded the diſ⯑courſe; when immediately the king, in a fit of phrenzy, roſe from table (his head being crowned with flowers) and taking a torch in his hand, he advanced forward, to execute his mad exploit. The whole company followed him, breaking out into ſhouts of joy, and in a riotous manner with ſinging and dancing, ſurrounded the palace. All the reſt of the Macedonians, at this noiſe, ran in [261] crowds, with lighted torches, and ſet fire to every part of it. However, Alexander ſoon repented of what he had done, and thereupon gave orders for extinguiſhing the fire; but it was now too late.

In the mean time Darius continued his flight, and at length arrived at Ecbatana, the capital of Media. But though he was able to eſcape the pur⯑ſuit of his natural enemies, he could not ſecure himſelf from the ſecret deſigns of his treacherous ſubjects. Two of them in particular, Nabarzanes and Beſſus, the one the general of the horſe, the other the commander of the Bactrians, had entered into a plot to ſeize his perſon; and either deliver him alive into the hands of Alexander, if they were overtaken; or, if they eſcaped, to put him to death, and afterwards uſurp his crown, and begin a new war. They even found means to draw over to their party all the forces of Darius, except the Greeks in that monarch's pay; who, ſhocked at the baſeneſs of his natural-born ſubjects, generouſly offered to protect his perſon at the hazard of their own lives. But Darius was of too noble a ſpirit to accept of ſuch a propoſal, and he therefore re⯑plied, that if his own ſubjects would not grant him protection, he could not think of receiving it from the hands of ſtrangers. The Greeks ſeeing they could be of no further ſervice to him, immediately threw themſelves on the mercy of Alexander, who, in conſideration of their gallant ſpirit, not only forgave them, but enrolled them among his own forces.

Darius, being thus left deſtitute of all kind of reſource, was ſeized by the traitors, who put him in chains, and carried him along with them for ſome time; but finding that the Macedonians were in cloſe purſuit of them, and that it was impoſſible for them either to conciliate the friendſhip of Alex⯑ander, [262] or to ſecure a crown for themſelves, they again ſet him at liberty, and adviſed him to accom⯑pany them in their flight. This, however, he re⯑fuſed to do; and calling upon heaven to revenge the indignities they had already offered him, he openly declared, that he would rather truſt to the mercy of Alexander, than continue any longer in the hands of traitors. At theſe words they fell into a furious paſſion, and thruſting him through with their darts and ſpears, they left him, in that manner, to linger out the remains of his wretched life. The traitors then made their eſcape different ways; while the victorious Macedonians, at length coming up, found Darius in a lonely place, lying in his chariot, and drawing near his end. However, he had ſtrength enough, before he died, to call for drink; which a Ma⯑cedonian, named Polyſtratus, brought him. The generoſity of the unfortunate monarch ſhone forth, on this melancholy occaſion, in the addreſs he made to this ſtranger: ‘"Now indeed, ſaid he, I ſuffer the extremity of miſery, ſince it is not in my power to reward thee for this act of humanity."’ He had a Perſian priſoner, whom he employed as his inter⯑preter. Darius, after drinking the liquor that had been given him, turned to the Macedonian, and ſaid, that in the deplorable ſtate to which he was reduced, he however, ſhould have the comfort to ſpeak to one who could underſtand him, and that h [...]s laſt words would not be loſt. He therefore charged him to tell Alexander, that he had died in his debt; that he gave him many thanks for the great humanity he had exerciſed towards his mother, his wife, and his children, whoſe lives he had not only ſpared, but reſtored them to their former ſplendor; that he beſought the gods to give victory to his arms, and make him ſovereign of the uni⯑verſe; and that he thought he need not entreat him [263] to revenge the execrable murder committed on his perſon, as this was the common cauſe of kings.

After this, taking Polyſtratus by the hand, ‘"give him," ſaid he, thy hand, as I give thee mine; and carry him, in my name, the only pledge I am able to give of my gratitude and affection."’ Saying theſe words, he breathed his laſt.

Alexander, upon coming up, and viewing the dead body of Darius, was deeply affected; he ge⯑nerouſly paid it the tribute of a tear; he cauſed it to be embalmed, and incloſed in a magnificent coffin; and he ſent it to Syſigambis, in order to be interred with the honours uſually paid to the Perſian monarchs. At the ſame time he pur⯑ſued the traitor Beſſus, and having taken him pri⯑ſoner, and cut off his noſe and ears, he cauſed him to be conveyed to Ecbatana, there to ſuffer what⯑ever puniſhment Darius's mother ſhould think pro⯑per to inflict upon him. He was accordingly put to death in the following manner. Four trees were bent by main force, all towards the ſame point, and to each of theſe one of the limbs of this traitor's b [...]dy was faſtened; and then the trees being ſuffered t [...] return to their natural poſition, they flew back with ſo much violence, that each tore away the [...]mb that was fixed to it, and ſo quartered him.

It was about this time that Alexander is ſaid to have received a viſit from Thaleſtris, queen of the Amazons; but this circumſtance, though related as a fact by ſome hiſtorians, is conſidered as a fable by the moſt judicious writers.

Among the many good qualities of Alexander, his gallantry and generoſity to the female ſex was not the leaſt remarkable. Of this he now gave a ſtriking inſtance in his behaviour to a Perſian fe⯑male captive, whom having diſcovered, by her modeſt and reſerved air while ſhe was ſinging at [264] one of his public banquets, to be a princeſs of the blood-royal, he not only ſet her at liberty, but re⯑turned her all her poſſeſſions, and even cauſed her huſband, Hyſtaſpes, to be ſought for, in order that ſhe might be reſtored to him.

The grandeur and elevation of Alexander's mind appears in nothing more conſpicuous than this, that he always accuſtomed his men to conſider their pre⯑ſent poſſeſſions, however great, as nothing in com⯑pariſon of what he would one day beſtow upon them. Perceiving that they were now ſo encumbered with booty, as to be incapable of marching with their uſual celerity and diſpatch, he commanded them to carry all their baggage (excepting only ſuch things as were indiſpenſably neceſſary) into a large plain, and there to commit it to the flames.

We have hitherto beheld the fair ſide of Alex⯑ander's character. We muſt now reverſe the pic⯑ture, and take a view of his bad, as well as his good qualities; for no man ever had a more mixed character, or united, in a more eminent degree, the extremes both of virtue and of vice. Hearing that Philotas, one of his chief favourites (and who was likewiſe the ſon of Parmenio) had received in⯑telligence of a plot formed againſt him, and had neglected to inform him of it, he immediately concluded that that nobleman himſelf was concerned in the conſpiracy; and he accordingly had him firſt put to the rack, and afterwards ſtoned to death. Philotas, in the agony of pain, had acknowledged himſelf guilty, and named ſeveral of his accomplices, and, among others, his own father. The conſe⯑quence was, that Parmenio, though entirely in⯑nocent, was likewiſe put to death; and in this act Alexander was at once guilty of injuſtice, cruelty, and ingratitude; for Parmenio had contributed more to the ſucceſs of his arms than perhaps any of his other generals.

[265]In order to prevent the ill humour that might have been excited in the army by theſe acts of ſeve⯑rity, Alexander ſet out in queſt of new nations whom he might ſubdue. He totally extirpated the Branchiae, merely on account of their being de⯑ſcended from ſome traiterous Greeks, that had de⯑livered up the treaſures of a temple, with which they had been entruſted. The ſucceſs of his arms againſt the Scythians is very problematical. Ac⯑cording to Arrian and Quintus Curtius, he was able to make little or no impreſſion on the bold and un⯑tractable ſpirit of theſe barbarians. Curtius even ſays, that the Scythians gave the Greeks ſo terrible a de⯑feat, that Alexander made it death for any one, who had eſcaped from the battle, to make the leaſt men⯑tion of it. He adds, that they ſent ambaſſadors to Alexander, who had the courage to tell him to his face, that he, who pretended to have no other view in all his military enterpriſes than the extirpation of robbers, was himſelf the greateſt robber that ex⯑iſted. It appears, however, that after taking and plundering the city of Cyropolis, and croſſing the river Jaxerthes, he defeated a body of thirty thou⯑ſand Scythians who were poſted in a ſtrong hold called Petra Oxiani, and having met with a more obſtinate reſiſtance than he expected, he redu⯑ced the common men to ſlavery, and cauſed their leaders to be fixed to croſſes at the bottom of the rock that formed the paſs.

Having thus opened to himſelf a way into the heart of the country, he advanced firſt into the province of Barſaria, and afterwards into that of Maracanda, of which laſt he appointed Clitus go⯑vernor. But it was not long before this brave and deſerving officer met with the ſame fate as Par⯑menio. For having taken upon him, at a public entertainment, where he had drank too freely, to depreciate the king's achievements in compariſon of [266] thoſe of his father Philip, Alexander, who was likewiſe very much intoxicated, was ſo tranſported with paſſion, that taking up a javelin, he laid Cli⯑tus dead at his feet. He had no ſooner committed this barbarous action, than he was ſeized with the deepeſt and moſt bitter affliction. He threw him⯑ſelf upon the dead body; he forced out the javelin, and had he not been prevented by the by-ſtanders, he would inſtantly have plunged it in his own breaſt. For ſome time he continued in a ſtate of the deepeſt melancholy: but at laſt having reco⯑vered his uſual ſerenity, he ſet out in queſt of new adventures, and entering the country of the Sacae, he was met by Axertes, one of its kings, whoſe daughter, Roxana, he married.

Having now ſubdued all the Perſian provinces, he reſolved to carry his arms as far as India, a country deemed at that time, as well as at preſent, one of the richeſt and moſt deſirable in the world. This country, on both ſides of the Ganges, was then inhabited by a people, not very unlike the pre⯑ſent Gentoos, or native Indians. They were divided into ſeven caſts or claſſes, which always kept ſepa⯑rate and diſtinct from each other, no perſon of one claſs being permitted to intermarry with one of another; nor any one being allowed to belong to two or more claſſes, or to quit one claſs for another. The firſt claſs conſiſted of the guardians of religion; the ſecond of huſbandmen; the third of ſhepherds; the fourth of merchants and tradeſmen, including pilots and ſeamen; the fifth of ſoldiers; the ſixth of magiſtrates; and the ſeventh of perſons employed in the public councils, and who aſſiſted the ſovereign in the government of the ſtate.

Upon entering this country, Alexander received the voluntary ſubmiſſion of moſt of the petty princes that reigned in it. Having reduced Hagoſa, he attacked the rock of Aornos, which was conſidered [267] as impregnable, and was ſaid to have foiled the proweſs even of Hercules himſelf; but the garriſon, ſtruck with the vaſtneſs of his military preparations, delivered it up after a very faint reſiſtance. This helped to inflame his natural pride and vanity, in having been able ſo eaſily to make himſelf maſter of a fortreſs, that had bid defiance to the might of the great founder of his race.

From thence he proceeded towards the river Indus, and continued his march to the banks of the Hy⯑daſpes, receiving every where, as he paſſed, the ſubmiſſion of the neighbouring princes, and, among others, that of Omphis, who made him a preſent of fifty-ſix elephants. There was one of them, however, (named Porus) who diſdained to relinquiſh his independent ſituation without a ſtruggle; and Alexander, therefore, reſolved to compel him by force of arms. A bloody battle accordingly was fought between them; and though Porus behaved with extraordinary valour, and performed both the duty of an able commander and a gallant ſoldier, being as remarkable for his great ſtrength and ſta⯑ture, as for his uncommon abilities, he was yet obliged, however unwillingly, to reſign the victory to his antagoniſt. The loſs of the Indians on this occaſion was great, amounting to no leſs than twenty thouſand foot, and three thouſand horſe; whereas that of the Macedonians did not exceed two hundred and eighty foot, and between thirty and forty horſemen.

Alexander was ſo charmed with the extraordi⯑nary merit of Porus, that he was extremely deſirous of ſaving him from the general carnage that fol⯑lowed the battle. He therefore ſent a meſſenger after him entreating him to return, which with ſome difficulty he was prevailed upon to do; and when he came into the king's preſence, who, the nearer he viewed him, admired him the more, [268] Alexander aſked him how he wiſhed to be treated [...] ‘"Like a king,"’ replied Porus. ‘"But," con⯑tinued Alexander, "do you aſk nothing more?"’ ‘"No," replied Porus, "all things are included in that ſingle word."’ Alexander, ſtruck with this greatneſs of ſoul, the magnanimity of which ſeemed heightened by diſtreſs, did not only reſtore him his kingdom, but annexed other provinces to it, and treated him ever after with the higheſt marks of eſteem and regard. Porus continued faithful to him till his death. It is hard to ſay whether the victor or the vanquiſhed deſerved moſt praiſe upon this occaſion.

Alexander built a city on the ſpot where the bat⯑tle was fought; and another in the place where he had croſſed the Hydaſpes. He called the one Nicaea, from his victory; and the other Bucephalus, in honour of his horſe, who died there, not of wounds, but of old age.

Having now conquered Porus, he advanced into the interior parts of India, and as the people of that country were never remarkable for their mili⯑tary ſpirit, he eaſily added it to his former domi⯑nions. Paſſing by a place, where there were ſeveral Brachmans or Indian Prieſts, he was ſeized with a deſire of converſing with them, and of learning, if poſſible, ſomething of the nature of their religion. But hearing that theſe prieſts never made viſits, and thinking it below his dignity to viſit them, he ſent Oneſicritus, the philoſopher, to wait upon them. This man met, in the neighbourhood of the city, fifteen Brachmans, who from morning till evening always ſtood naked, in the ſame poſture in which they had at firſt placed themſelves, and afterwards returned to the city at night. He addreſſed himſelf firſt to Calanus an Indian, reputed the wiſeſt man of his country, who, though he profeſſed the prac⯑tice of the moſt ſevere philoſophy, had however [269] been perſuaded in his extreme old age to attend upon the court, and to him he told the occaſion of his coming. The latter gazing upon Oneſicritus's clothes and ſhoes, could not forbear laughing; after which he told him, ‘"That anciently the earth had been covered with barley and wheat, as it was at that time with duſt; that, beſides water, the rivers uſed to flow with milk, honey, oil and wine; that man's guilt had occaſioned a change of this happy condition; and that Jupiter, to puniſh their ingra⯑titude, had ſentenced them to a long and painful labour: that their repentance afterwards moving him to compaſſion, he had reſtored them their for⯑mer abundance; however that, by the courſe of things, they ſeemed to be returning to their ancient confuſion."’ All nations, even in the very loweſt ſtages of ſociety, ſeem to have ſome notion of a happier ſtate that preceded the preſent.

Oneficritus endeavoured to perſuade two of them, named Mandanis and Calodanus, to accompany him to Alexander, telling them they would find him a generous benefactor. The former haughtily rejected the propoſal: it was however accepted by the latter. Alexander's chief ambition was to imi⯑tate Bacchus and Hercules in their expeditions into the eaſt, and he therefore reſolved to penetrate, like them, as far as he could meet with new nations to con⯑quer. But now the Macedonians refuſed to follow him, ſatiated, as they were, with ſpoil, and worn out with repeated encounters; and though he uſed every argument he could think of to overcome their obſtinacy, he yet could ſucceed no farther than to obtain their conſent to attend him towards the ſouth, in order to diſcover the neareſt ocean, and to take the courſe of the river Indus for their guide.

In his voyage down this river, he gave a ſignal proof of that perſonal intrepidity, for which he was ſo to remarkable; for having landed his troops, and [270] attacked the capital of the Oxydraci and the Mallis, he ſeized a ſcaling-ladder, and was the firſt that mounted the wall. His attendants, ſeeing his dan⯑ger, endeavoured to follow him; but the ladder breaking, he left alone; upon which, ſword in hand, he boldly leaped from the wall into the city, which was crowded with enemies. He re⯑pulſed ſuch as were neareſt him, and he even killed the governor of the place who advanced in the throng. Thus with his back to a tree that hap⯑pened to be near, he received all the darts of the enemy in his ſhield, and kept even the boldeſt at a diſtance. At laſt an Indian diſcharging an arrow of three feet in length, it pierced his coat of mail and his right breaſt; and ſo great a quantity of blood iſſued from the wound, that he dropped his arms and lay as dead. The Indian came to ſtrip him, ſuppoſing him really what he appeared; but Alexander that inſtant recovered his ſpirits, and plunged a dagger in his ſide. By this time a part of the king's attendants had come to his ſuccour, and forming themſelves round his body, till the ſol⯑diers without found means to break the gates, they thus ſaved him, and put all the inhabitants without diſtinction to the ſword.

Having recovered of his wound, in a few days, he continued his voyage down the river, ſubduing the country on each ſide as he paſſed along; and at laſt having reached the ſhore, he was ſtruck with ſurpriſe at the high tides of the Indian ocean, eſpe⯑cially as he had never beheld any thing of the kind but the gentle floods of the Mediterranean, where there can hardly be ſaid to be any tides at all. Here he put an end to his expedition; and caſting his eyes wiſtfully on the broad expanſe of waters be⯑fore him, he is ſaid to have wept at there being no more worlds left for him to conquer. He now therefore reſolved to direct his march homewards; [271] and having appointed Nearchus admiral of his fleet, with orders to proceed along the Indian ſhore as far as the Perſian gulph, he ſet out with his army for Babylon.

The firſt part of this journey was attended with the greateſt difficulties on account of the poverty of the country through which they paſſed, and the conſequent want of proviſions; but upon their ar⯑rival in the province of Gedroſia, the richeſt diſ⯑trict in that part of the world, they found themſelves ſurrounded with all the neceſſaries, and conveni⯑encies, and even the luxuries of life, nor were they backward in enjoying them. The fact is, like true ſoldiers, they gave themſelves up to every ſpecies of intemperance and exceſs. Alexander, ſtill wiſhing to imitate Bacchus, was drawn by eight horſes, on a ſcaffold in the form of a ſquare ſtage, where he paſſed the days and nights in feaſting; and his men, at humble diſtance, did not fail to follow his exam⯑ple. Here he put Cleander to death, whom he had left behind him as the governor of ſome provinces, and who had groſsly abuſed his authority during his maſter's abſence. As this man had the chief hand in cutting off the unhappy Parmenio, this act of ri⯑gorous juſtice gave great ſatisfaction. He likewiſe inflicted the ſame puniſhment upon ſix hundred ſol⯑diers, whom Cleander had employed as the inſtru⯑ments of his extortion.

In his way to Babylon he ſtopped at Paſargada, in order to viſit the tomb of Cyrus, upon which was this humble but ſignificant inſcription.—"O man, whoſoever thou art, or whenceſoever thou comeſt, I am Cyrus, the founder of the Perſian em⯑pire; do not envy me this little quantity of earth which covers my body." Here Orſines a Perſian prince being accuſed (though falſely) of having robbed this tomb, was condemned to ſuffer a capital puniſhment. Here, too, Calanus, the Indian, [272] having completed his eighty-third year, without diſ⯑eaſe or ſickneſs, and now feeling the approaches of old age, reſolved to put himſelf to a voluntary death, agreeable to the ſtrange ſuperſtition of the enthu⯑ſiaſts of his country. A funeral pile accordingly was erected for him: this, after taking leave of his friends, he boldly aſcended, and laying himſelf down upon it, and covering his face, he continued im⯑moveably in that poſture till he expired in the flames.

From Paſargada Alexander proceeded to Suſa, where he married Statira, the eldeſt daughter of Darius; and at the ſame time gave her youngeſt ſiſter in wedlock to his favourite Hephaeſtion, and fourſcore Perſian ladies of rank to as many of his principal officers.

But while he was thus amuſing himſelf in Perſia, a commotion had like to have been excited in Greece. Harpalus, governor of Babylon, having amaſſed immenſe riches, and wiſhing to acquire an independent authority, had gone over to Athens, and endeavoured to engage the leading men in his intereſt, and, among others, the illuſtrious Phocion, whom we have already mentioned. But this man lent a deaf ear to all his tempting offers, and ſhewed himſelf to be as much proof againſt the ſeductions of Harpalus, as he had formerly been againſt thoſe of Philip and Alexander. When Philip preſſed him to accept of a large ſum, if not for himſelf, at leaſt for his family: ‘"if my children," ſaid Phocion, "reſemble me, the little ſpot of ground, upon the produce of which I have hitherto lived, will be ſufficient to maintain them; if they do not, I would not wiſh to leave them wealth, merely to inflame their luxury and ambition."’ And when Alexander ſent him a hundred talents, Phocion aſked thoſe who brought it, why their maſter had preſented him with ſo great a ſum, and did not remit any to the reſt of the Athenians; ‘"it is, replied they, be⯑cauſe [273] he looks upon you as the only juſt and vir⯑tuous man in the ſtate."’ ‘"Then, rejoined Pho⯑cion, let him ſuffer me ſtill to enjoy that character, and be really what I am taken for."’ Harpalus, diſappointed in his hopes of ſucceſs from this quarter, was obliged to abandon the enterprize.

This commotion was ſcarcely ſuppreſſed when another enſued, and ſeemingly of a more dangerous nature. Alexander had publiſhed a declaration, by which all the Macedonians, who from their age or infirmities were incapable of bearing the fatigues of war, were ordered to return to Greece. This they conſidered, not only as the higheſt affront, but even as the greateſt injuſtice. They therefore, with ſeditious cries, unanimouſly demanded to be entirely diſcharged from his ſervice, murmuring againſt him as a deſpiſer of his braveſt troops, and as a cruel king, who wanted their deſtruction and not their abſence. Alexander, however, on this trying occaſion, acted with that reſolution, which always marked his character. Being ſeated on his tribunal of juſtice, he ruſhed among the principal mutineers, ſeized thirteen, and ordered them to be immediately puniſhed. The ſoldiers amazed at his intrepidity, withheld their complaints, and with down-caſt eyes ſeemed to beg for mercy. ‘"You deſired a diſcharge," ſaid he, "go then, and pub⯑liſh to the world, that you have left your prince to the mercy of ſtrangers; from henceforth, the Per⯑ſians ſhall be my guards."’ This menace was ac⯑tually executed, and filled the ſoldiers with ſuch grief and conſternation, that they never ceaſed ſoli⯑citing his forgiveneſs, till at laſt he was prevailed upon to reſtore them to his favour.

Being now ſecure from inſurrection, he gave him⯑ſelf up to mirth and jollity; he ſpent whole days and nights in immoderate drinking; and in one of thoſe bacchanalian entertainments Hephaeſtion loſt [274] his life. As this was the greateſt of all Alexander's favourites, his death made a deep impreſſion on his mind. He ſeemed abſolutely incapable of receiving conſolation; he even put to death the phyſician who attended him; and, on his arrival in Babylon, he celebrated his funeral rites with the greateſt pomp and magnificence.

As he drew near to that city, many ſiniſter omens were obſerved; on which account the Chaldeans, who pretended to foreſee future events, endeavoured to diſſuade him from entering it. But the Greek philoſophers diſplayed the futility of theſe predictions, and adviſed him to purſue the courſe which his glory pointed out. Babylon, they told him, was a proper theatre, on which to diſplay the greatneſs of his power, as ambaſſadors were there expecting his arrival from all the nations he had lately conquered. Accordingly, after making a moſt magnificent entry, he gave audience to the ambaſſadors with a grandeur and dignity ſuitable to his royal character, yet with all the affability and politeneſs of a private courtier.

As he intended to make Babylon the ſeat of his empire, he began to form ſchemes for beautifying and improving that city. But, amidſt all his amuſe⯑ments of this kind, and though he had now at⯑tained to the height of his ambition, he was far from being happy. The recent loſs of Hephaeſtion, and the ſad remembrance he ſtill had of the murder of Clitus, and of the barbarities exerciſed on Parmenio, and his ſon Philotas; the recollection, I ſay, of theſe ſhocking events feſtered in his mind, and threw a gloom upon his ſpirits; to diſſipate which it was neceſſary to have recourſe to ſome powerful remedy. The remedy he employed was intemperance. In conſequence of this, he was often invited to enter⯑tainments, at which he drank immoderately. On a particular occaſion, having ſpent the whole night in a debauch, he was preſſed to engage in a [275] ſecond, which he unhappily did, and drank to ſuch exceſs, that he fell upon the floor, in appearance dead; and in this lifeleſs condition was carried, a ſad ſpectacle of debauchery, to his palace. The fever continued, with ſome intervals, in which he gave the neceſſary orders for the ſailing of the fleet, and the marching of his land forces, being perſuaded he ſhould recover. But at laſt finding himſelf paſt all hopes, and his voice beginning to fail, he gave his ring to Perdiccas, with orders to convey his body to the temple of Ammon. He ſtruggled, however, with death for ſome time, and raiſing himſelf upon his elbow, he gave his hand to the ſoldiers who preſſed in to kiſs it. Being then aſked to whom he would leave his empire, he anſwered, ‘"To the moſt worthy."’ Perdiccas inquiring at what time he ſhould pay him divine honours, he replied, when you are happy. With theſe words he expired, being then upwards of thirty-two years old, of which he had reigned twelve with a glory and renown that no prince, either before or ſince, has ever been able to equal.

As to his character, it may be ſummed up in a few words. Perſonal courage, military ſkin, un⯑bounded generoſity, unexampled continence, con⯑ſidering his youth, his rank, and the powerful temp⯑tations to which he was expoſed; ſuch were his chief and moſt diſtinguiſhed virtues: but theſe were more than counterbalanced by his intemperance, his cruelty, his vanity, and, above all, by his wild and inſatiable ambition. His victories, however, had one good effect. They ſerved to ſhew in how high a degree the arts of peace can promote thoſe of war. In this picture we becold a combination of petty ſtates, by the arts of refinement, growing more than a match for the reſt of the world united; and leaving mankind an example of the ſuperiority of intellect over brutal force. Alexander left one ſon behind him; he was named Hercules, and was born [276] of Barſine, the daughter of Artabazus, and widow of Memnon. Both Roxana and Statira are ſaid to have been pregnant at the time of his death.

CHAP. XV. TRANSACTIONS IN GREECE, FROM THE DE⯑STRUCTION OF THEBES TO THE DEATH OF ANTIPATER.

WE now return to the affairs of Greece, with which Alexander's expedition is, in a great meaſure, unconnected; and hardly, indeed, bears any other relation to them, than that it was carried on by Grecian forces. When the general conven⯑tion of the States of Greece declared Alexander their generaliſſimo againſt the Perſians, the Lacedae⯑monians were the only people that refuſed to concur in this appointment. With a ſagacity and penetra⯑tion, which did them honour, they plainly foreſaw, that if that prince ſhould ſucceed in his ambitious ſcheme of ſubduing the Eaſt, it would not be long before he put a period to the ſmall remains of Gre⯑cian liberty. They therefore did every thing in their power to counteract his views; they even entered into an alliance, for this purpoſe, with the Perſian monarch; and Agis, at that time their king, a brave, active, and enterpriſing prince, ſon to Archidamus, and grandſon of the renowned Ageſilaus, exerted himſelf ſo ſtrenuouſly upon this occaſion, that he actually brought over a good number of the other ſtates of Greece to join in the confederacy againſt Macedon. By this means he was enabled to raiſe an army of twenty thouſand foot and two thouſand horſe, with which he attacked Megalopolis, the only city in Peloponneſus that had acknowledged Alexander for its ſovereign. Anti⯑pater, [277] Alexander's viceroy in Macedon, was not long in meeting him, and that too with an army amounting to above double the number. Agis, however, did not endeavour to avoid the conteſt; a general action enſued; and though the Macedo⯑nians gained the victory, yet was it with the loſs of three thouſand five hundred of their beſt troops. The ſame number fell on the other ſide, and, among, the reſt, Agis, the Spartan king, one of the moſt illuſtrious characters to be found in antiquity. His end was as glorious as his life had been virtuous. Having received ſeveral wounds in the courſe of the action, his ſoldiers endeavoured, when the rout be⯑came general, to carry him off on their ſhoulders; but Agis ſeeing they were in danger of being ſur⯑rounded, commanded them to ſet him down, and preſerve themſelves by flight for the future ſervice of their country. They did ſo: he was accordingly left alone; and on his knees he fought and killed ſeveral of the Macedonians, whom he continued to engage till he was run through the body with a dart.

The ſubſequent reigns of the Spartan kings were productive of few events that are worthy of notice. Eudemidas, the ſon of Agis, ſucceeded him on the throne; and happily, at leaſt for the tranquillity of his country, his mind was as much turned to the arts of peace, as his father's had been to thoſe of war. While the whole nation was burning with reſentment at the loſs of Agis, and calling out for a renewal of hoſtilities againſt the Macedonians, in order to revenge it, Eudemidas alone reſtrained their military ardour. And when a certain citi⯑zen aſked him, why he ſhould recommend the continuance of peace, when all his ſubjects were for war, ‘"Becauſe," replied the king, "I wiſh to convince them, that what they deſire would be in⯑jurious to them."’ When another of his ſubjects [278] was magnifying, in his preſence, the victories which their anceſtors had won from the Perſians, and was, from thence, drawing arguments for recommencing hoſtilities againſt Macedon, ‘"You perhaps, think," ſaid Eudemidas, "that it is the ſame thing to make war againſt a thouſand ſheep, as againſt fifty wolves."’ Going one day, by chance, into the ſchool of Xe⯑nocrates the philoſopher, and obſerving that he was very old, he aſked thoſe who ſtood next to him, what was the old man's profeſſion. Upon being an⯑ſwered, that he was a wiſe man, who ſought after virtue, ‘"Alas," ſaid he, "is he ſeeking it at theſe years! When, then, will he make uſe of it?"’ And when, as we ſhall ſee afterwards, Alexander cauſed the return of all the Greek exiles, thoſe of Thebes excepted, to be proclaimed at the Olympic games; ‘"'Tis a hard caſe, O ye Thebans," ſaid Eude⯑midas, "but, at the ſame time, very honourable; for it is evident, that, of all the Greeks, Alexander fears you only."’

Antipater having ſucceeded to his wiſh in cruſhing the inſurrection in Peloponneſus, and having cut off Agis, who was the chief author of that inſurrection, reſolved, if poſſible, to take out of the way every other perſon that was likely to diſpute his maſter's authority; and the firſt he pitched upon with this view was the celebrated Demoſthenes, whom he contrived to bring under a ſuſpicion of having proved falſe to the intereſts of his country. For though Harpalus, as we have already obſerved, could not corrupt Phocion, he is ſaid to have been more ſuc⯑ceſsful with Demoſthenes, who was now accuſed of having accepted a bribe of a golden cup and twenty talents. Certain it is, that when he was to have given his opinion with regard to the propriety of granting protection to a Macedonian culprit, he appeared with his throat bound round with ſeveral rollers. This was probably owing to a real cold he [279] had caught, though his enemies alledged it was only a pretended one; and a wit obſerved on the occaſion, ‘"that the orator had got a golden quinſey."’ Be this as it will, he was tried for bribery in the court of Areopagus; and being found guilty, was con⯑demned in a fine of fifty talents: and as this was a ſum he was unable to pay, he was therefore obliged to go into baniſhment. But from this charge of bribery and corruption Demoſthenes is fully vindi⯑cated both by Plutarch and Pauſanias, two of the moſt reſpectable authors of antiquity.

Antipater having now rid himſelf of almoſt the only man in Greece that dared to queſtion his maſter's authority, Alexander reſolved to try how far the minds of the people were prepared to ſubmit to that yoke of ſlavery which he was determined to impoſe upon them. With this view he cauſed it to be proclaimed at the Olympic games, ‘"That all the Grecian exiles (thoſe only excepted who had been guilty of atrocious crimes) ſhould be forthwith reſtored to their reſpective cities; and that thoſe cities which ſhould refuſe to admit them, ſhould be compelled to it by force of arms."’ This ſtep, how⯑ever, ſeems to have been rather premature. Cowed is the minds of the people were by the repeated acts of oppreſſion they had ſuffered, they were not yet [...]poſed to comply with an order, which was a direct [...]verſion not only of all free, but of all regular go⯑vernment. They therefore began to make prepara⯑t [...]ons for a bold and vigorous reſiſtance; and being [...]e [...]ded by Leoſthenes, the Athenian, who had al⯑ready collected a good body of his countrymen, they [...]n found themſelves ſufficiently ſtrong to ſet Antipater at defiance.

Such was the ſituation of affairs in Greece, when the news of Alexander's death reached that country; [...]ws which added greatly to the ſpirit and activity [...]f the inſurgents. It was at this time too, that [280] Demoſthenes was recalled from baniſhment, as his eloquence and patriotiſm would be of the greateſt ſervice in uniting the different ſtates of Greece in a general confederacy againſt the Macedonians. He was chiefly oppoſed, on this occaſion by Pytheas, a creature of Alexander's. ‘"The Athenians," ſaid Pytheas, "may be likened unto aſs's milk, which is a certain indication of ſickneſs being in any houſe into which it is brought; for when they appear in any city, we may with certainty pronounce that city to be diſtempered."’ ‘"True," anſwered De⯑moſthenes, "but as aſs's milk is a reſtorative of health, ſo are Athenian counſels of diſtempered ſtates."’

Antipater, though greatly inferior to the con⯑federates in number, had the courage to give them battle; but being defeated, he took refuge in La⯑mia a city of Theſſaly, where he reſolved to hold out till a reinforcement ſhould arrive. The Athenians were ſo elated with this ſucceſs, that ſome of them propoſed declaring war in form againſt the Macedonians; but from this they were diſſuaded by Phocion, who well knew their inability to main⯑tain ſuch a conteſt. ‘"When do you think," ſaid one of the principal citizens to him, "will be the moſt proper time for going to war?"’ ‘"When the young men," replied he, "keep within the bounds of regularity; when the rich are liberal in their donations; and the orators ceaſe to rob the ſtate."’

It was not long before Antipater received the ſupply of troops he expected; and now thinking himſelf more than a match for the enemy, he ſet out in queſt of them, and coming up with them in the neighbourhood of Cranon, a city of Theſſaly, he there gave them a complete overthrow. En⯑raged, as he was, at the Athenians, more than at any of the other ſtates of Greece, on account of their having been the original authors, and chief con⯑ductors [281] of this inſurrection, he refuſed to grant them peace upon any other terms than their deliver⯑ing up Demoſthenes, and receiving into their city a Macedonian garriſon.

Demoſthenes, well knowing that he had incurred the reſentment of Antipater beyond the poſſibility of forgiveneſs, fled immediately to Calauria, a ſmall iſland in the neighbourhood, and there took refuge in the temple of Neptune. He was followed thither by Archias, a player, whom Antipater ſent after him, in order to bring him back. Archias uſed every argument he could think of to perſuade him to return, telling him that Antipater would treat him humanely. But Demoſthenes, who knew better than Archias, what were the diſpoſi⯑tions of Antipater, ſaid, ‘"O, Archias, I was never much moved with you as a player, and now I am as little moved with you as a negociator."’ When Archias began to preſs him hard, he begged leave to withdraw a little farther into the temple, in order to write a few lines to his family. When he had got to the place where he was to write, he put a poiſoned quill into his mouth, and chewed it, as he uſually did other quills, when he was very thoughtful. The poiſon beginning to operate, he turned towards the tragedian, and ſaid, ‘"Now, ſir, you may act the part of Creon, in the tragedy, and caſt out this body of mine unburried."’ He de⯑ſired to be ſupported to the door of the temple, that he might not pollute it by his death; but as he paſſed by the altar he expired.

By the death of this great man, and that of Agis, Antipater eſtabliſhed his authority in Athens, and in moſt of the other ſtates, upon a firm foundation; and even ſo far gained upon the affections of the people, by the mild uſe he made of his power, that he re⯑ceived from them the honourable appellation of. The father and protector of Greece. With the [282] Aetolians, however, he was not equally ſucceſsful. That people were ſo diſſatisfied with the terms granted them at the late pacification, that they were determined either to obtain better, or to riſk every thing in the field. With this view they raiſed a large army, with which they invaded the territories of Macedon; but though they gained at firſt ſome petty advantages (eſpecially during Antipater's abſence in Aſia, whither he had been obliged to go in order to counteract the deſigns of Perdiccas, who was plan⯑ning an inſurrection in that part of the world) yet were they finally defeated, and compelled to ſubmit to their former maſters.

Even the Athenians, though leſs diſpleaſed, than any of the other ſtates of Greece, with the conduct of Antipater, yet felt their pride hurt at their city's being defended by a Macedonian garriſon; and they therefore wiſhed to free themſelves from this badge of ſlavery. They firſt entreated Phocion to uſe his good offices with Antipater for this purpoſe; but that patriot declined the commiſſion, well knowing that his countrymen were now become too effeminate to be left entirely to their own protec⯑tion. They therefore deputed the orator Demades, to wait upon Antipater, and ſolicit the recal of the garriſon. This is the ſame Demades we have al⯑ready mentioned as the enemy of Demoſthenes. He was a man of ſome abilities, but of more vanity, and of a moſt venal diſpoſition. Antipater uſed to ſay, that he had two friends at Athens; Phocion, who would never accept of any reward for his ſer⯑vices; and Demades, who never thought he had received enough. Whether Antipater had diſcon⯑tinued his largeſſes to Demades, or whether De⯑mades expected to be more liberally rewarded by Perdiccas, we cannot ſay; but he had entered into a correſpondence with that commander, and had recommended to him to come over, and aſſume the [283] government of Macedon and Greece. A letter of his to Perdiccas was found, in which were theſe words: ‘"Come, and be the ſupport of Macedon and Greece, which, at preſent, lean on an old rotten ſtaff,"’ meaning Antipater. This diſcovery was made at the very time that he and his ſon were en⯑deavouring to obtain the recal of the garriſon. Antipater immediately cauſed the ſon of Demades to be ſlain in his father's preſence; and the moment he had expired, the father himſelf underwent the ſame fate.

Antipater did not long ſurvive this incident. He had how attained to a great age; and the anxiety of his mind, co-operating with an enfeebled and declining habit of body, at laſt produced a violent diſeaſe, that ſoon left him but little room to hope for a recovery. His end was not unworthy of the high character he had maintained through life. Preferring, as he had always done, the intereſt of the nation at large to that of his own family, he contented himſelf with appointing his ſon, Caſſander, to be merely a chiliarch, or commander of a thou⯑ſand men, while he left the goverment of Mace⯑don and Greece to Polyperchon, the eldeſt of Alexander's captains at that time in Europe. This noble and diſintereſted act raiſed him ſtill higher, if poſſible, in the opinion of his countrymen, and made them conſider his death, which happened ſoon after, not only as a national, but almoſt as an irreparable loſs.

CHAP. XVI. TRANSACTIONS IN ASIA FROM THE DEATH OF ALEXANDER, TO THE DEATH OF ANTI⯑GONUS.

THE expreſſion which Alexander made uſe of on his death-bed, of leaving his empire ‘"To the moſt worthy,"’ would probably have produced a war among his principal officers, each of whom thought himſelf the moſt deſerving, had it not been, that, happily for the country, the ambition of every one of them was reſtrained by the no leſs ardent ambition of the reſt. All of them, therefore, being thus obliged to relinquiſh for themſelves every pre⯑tenſion to the crown, they placed it, and that too with general conſent, on the head of Alexander's only brother, who was named Aridaeus, or more com⯑monly Philip Aridaeus. This was a prince of very weak intellects; indeed he is ſaid to have been ab⯑ſolutely inſane: and to this circumſtance probably, more than to his being the ſon of Philip, did he owe his ready admiſſion to the throne.

As to Hercules, the ſon of Alexander by Barſine, his right was eaſily ſet aſide, as his mother was not of royal extraction. A ſhare, however, of the ſupreme power was reſerved for the child, with which Roxana was then big, ſhould it prove a boy; and as it actually did ſo, and was named by its mo⯑ther Alexander, the empire thenceforth may be ſaid to have had two kings inſtead of one. Indeed, in a little time, it might probably have had a third, as Statira, Alexander's other queen, was then pregnant; but Roxana, a cruel and ambitious wo⯑man, took care to obviate this inconvenience by ſecretly making away with Statira, as ſhe ſoon [285] after did with her ſiſter, Paryſatis, the widow of Hephaeſtion.

Perdiccas, to whom on his death-bed, Alexander had bequeathed his royal ſignet, and who was ſup⯑poſed to be his greateſt favourite, after the death of Hephaeſtion, was the chief author of theſe, and of every other public meaſure. For though, in the outward diſtribution of power, he contented him⯑ſelf with the humble ſtation of captain of the houſhold troops, yet was he poſſeſſed of more real influence than any other man at court, or even than any of thoſe who were appointed governors of the different provinces. As to theſe laſt, they were diſpoſed of in the following manner. To Antipater and Cra⯑terus was aſſigned the government of Macedon and of all Greece. Lyſimachus was ſet over the Cher⯑ſoneſe and Thrace. Eumenes had Paphlagonia and Cappadocia. Ptolemy had Egypt, and Antigonus Phrygia the greater, Lycia and Pamphylia.

Though none of Alexander's captains had been able to raiſe themſelves to ſovereign ſway, yet were they, moſt of them, by far too powerful to continue long as peaceable ſubjects. In a little time, ac⯑cordingly, a civil war broke out, and it then ap⯑peared that there were no leſs than three parties in the empire. One of theſe was headed by Perdiccas, and ſupported by Eumenes; another was headed by Ptolemy, and ſupported by Antipater and Craterus; and the third, which ultimately proved the moſt formidable of all, was raiſed and maintained by Antigonus alone. The events, produced by the violent contentions of theſe different parties, the narrow limits, to which we are confined, will not allow us to relate at any length: nor indeed, were we to do ſo, would the detail, after all, be very intereſting. Let it, therefore, ſuffice to lay before the reader the moſt material circumſtances.

[286]Perdiccas marched into Egypt with a large army, in order to cruſh the inſurrection of Ptolemy, but was there ſlain by his own ſoldiers. Antipater likewiſe aſſembled an army; and having divided it into two bodies, he put one of them under the com⯑mand of Craterus, who had orders to watch the motions of Eumenes, whilſt himſelf, with the other, went over to Cilicia, for the purpoſe of giving aſ⯑ſiſtance to Ptolemy, in caſe there ſhould be need. In his abſence, Eumenes, ſeizing a favourable op⯑portunity, attacked Craterus, who was not only de⯑feated, but loſt his life in the action. For this loſs, however, Antipater, found ſome conſolation in being unamimouſly choſen protector of the kings, in the room of Perdiccas. This laſt appointment made it neceſſary for him to reviſit Macedon, and he therefore left the proſecution of the war againſt Eumenes to Antigonus, and to his ſon Caſſander, whom he privately inſtructed to keep a watchful eye on the proceedings of the former, as he well knew his bold and enterprizing character.

Antigonus, though an excellent ſoldier, had to cope with a man, who was but little, if at all his inferior. A battle enſued between him and Eu⯑menes; and though the latter was worſted, chiefly through the treachery of his officers, yet had he the addreſs to retire with a handful of men to the caſtle of Nora, where, without any other proviſions than corn, ſalt, and water, he defended himſelf for a whole year, and at laſt obliged the enemy to give over the ſiege.

Antipater died ſoon after his return to Mace⯑don, and, as we have already obſerved, he ap⯑pointed Polyperchon for his ſucceſſor. This was a weak, and vain-glorious man; and he now gave a ſignal proof of his imprudence in re⯑calling Olympias to Macedon, from which the policy of Antipater had always kept her at a diſ⯑tance. [287] On the preſent occaſion, however, ſhe did not give way to thoſe cruel and vindictive diſpoſi⯑tions, which had formerly marked her character, and which afterwards rendered her equally infamous and miſerable; on the contrary ſhe diſcovered the greateſt political ſagacity and diſcernment. By her advice umenes was appointed to the chief com⯑mand in the eaſt, and was ordered to make head againſt Antigonus, who was every day riſing into a dangerous degree of power. Eumenes executed this commiſſion with great ability, and even with conſiderable ſucceſs. Being much inferior to An⯑tigonus in number of ſoldiers, he drew over to his own party ſome of the moſt powerful officers in that general's intereſt, and even the whole body of the Argyraſpidae, a ſet of hardy Macedonian veterans, who derived their name from the ſilver ſhields which they wore, and with which they had been preſented by Alexander the Great on account of their extra⯑ordinary valour. By theſe and various other means he contrived to thwart all the deſigns of Antigonus for the ſpace of three years, till at laſt the other, ſeizing a favourable opportunity, fell ſuddenly upon him in his winter-quarters, and not only diſcom⯑fited his forces, but took himſelf priſoner, and in⯑ſtantly put him to death.

Being now freed from ſuch a formidable enemy, Antigonus began to execute thoſe ambitious projects, which he had long been meditating in private, but had never dared hitherto openly to avow. He firſt advanced to Babylon, of which he made himſelf maſter, Seleucus, the governor, having fled into Egypt, and thrown himſelf upon the protection of Ptolemy. He next invaded the provinces of Coeloſyria and Phoenicia, which he compelled to ſumbit; and having built a fleet of five hundred ſail in leſs than a twelvemonth, he attacked and reduced the city of Tyre.

[288]In the mean time, a league was formed between Ptolemy, Lyſimachus, Seleucus, and Caſſander, for checking the progreſs of Antigonus's arms. Ptolemy advanced with a large army to Gaza, where he attacked and defeated Demetrius, the ſon of Antigonus, who had been left to command in his father's abſence. But Demetrius ſoon recovered the honour he had loſt, by attacking, in his turn, one of Ptolemy's generals, and giving him a com⯑plete overthrow. Ptolemy, however, was enabled, by his victory at Gaza, to furniſh Seleucus with a ſmall body of forces, with which he returned to Babylon, and reſumed the government of that city, which he continued to enjoy till his death.

Though not only Antigonus, but even Ptolemy, Lyſimachus, and Caſſander, had for ſome time acted as independent princes, ſtill they affected to acknow⯑ledge a kind of ſubmiſſion to Alexander the young king of Macedon. But this was a mere pretence to blind the eyes of the people; and that pretence being now no longer thought neceſſary, they all of them threw off the maſk, and openly aſſumed a title to that ſovereign power, of which they were really poſſeſſed. Antigonus and his ſon were pro⯑claimed kings of Syria; Ptolemy was declared king of Egypt; Caſſander, king of Macedon; and Lyſimachus and Seleucus took the ſame badge of royalty in the provinces they governed.

It is not to be ſuppoſed, that ſuch reſtleſs and ambitious ſpirits would long live in harmony and concord among themſelves. The Syrian kings in⯑vaded Egypt, of which they hoped to make a con⯑queſt; but in this they were diſappointed. They next turned their arms againſt Rhodes; but though Demetrius, who, on account of his wonderful ſuc⯑ceſs in ſtorming cities, was called Poliorcetes, em⯑ployed againſt it the utmoſt efforts of his military ſkill, yet was he obliged to abandon the enterprize. [289] For this, indeed, he was furniſhed with a plauſible pretext, in conſequence of an embaſſy from the Athenians, entreating him to come and free them from the oppreſſion of Caſſander, who was now be⯑ſieging their city. Demetrius readily complied with their requeſt, and not only compelled Caſſander to give over the ſiege of Athens, but even to retreat with precipitation into Macedon.

By this time the power of the Syrian kings was become ſo formidable, as to threaten the indepen⯑dence of all the neighbouring ſtates, and a general combination was therefore formed againſt them. It conſiſted chiefly of the Macedonians, Thracians, and Egyptians, who aſſembled a large body of forces, amounting, in the whole, to about ſeventy-four thouſand men. The kings of Syria were not long in meeting them with a ſtill ſuperior army, and a battle enſued in the neighbourhood of Ipſus, a ſmall town in Phrygia. Both ſides behaved with un⯑common gallantry; but, after a fierce and obſtinate ſtruggle, the Syrians were completely defeated, and their king Antigonus left dead upon the ſpot. Demetrius eſcaped with about nine thouſand men.

CHAP. XVII. REVOLUTIONS IN MACEDON AND GREECE, FROM THE DEATH OF ANTIPATER, TO THE FINAL OVERTHROW OF THE FAMILY OF PHILIP.

CASSANDER, as we have already obſerved, had uſurped the throne of Macedon. The ſteps, by which he attained to that high dignity, it may not be improper here a little more particularly to relate. Alarmed, as he juſtly was, at the con⯑duct of Polyperchon, in recalling Olympias to court, and intruſting her, not only with the care [290] of the young king, but even with the direction of the public councils, he began, in concert with his friends, to adopt ſuch meaſures, as appeared to be the moſt proper for ſecuring themſelves againſt the effects of that woman's reſentment; for he well knew, that ſhe bore an implacable hatred to the memory of his father, and to all that were either deſcended from, or had been connected with him.

One of the firſt ſteps, which Polyperchon took by her advice, was to iſſue an edict, aboliſhing, throughout all the ſtates of Greece, the ariſtocratic form of government which Antipater had revived, and reſtoring the democratic mode, which had ex⯑iſted a little before it. His oſtenſible reaſon for embracing this meaſure, was the beſtowing upon the people a greater degree of liberty than they then enjoyed; but his real motive was the diſplacing thoſe governors whom Antipater had appointed, and thereby weakening the intereſt of Caſſander. The more intelligent part of the citizens eaſily ſaw through the deceit; but the people in general were caught by it, and clamoured loudly againſt all thoſe who dared to oppoſe the execution of the edict, and, among others, againſt the virtuous Pho⯑cion, who fell a ſacrifice to their prejudices on this occaſion. Being brought to a trial for this pre⯑tended crime, he aſked whether he was to be pro⯑ceeded againſt, according to the regular forms of law; and being told that he was, he replied, ‘"How is that poſſible, if no hearing is to be allowed me?"’ Perceiving, from the violence of the popular re⯑ſentment, that no opportunity of defence would be granted him, he exclaimed, ‘"As for myſelf, I confeſs the crime of which I am accuſed, and ſub⯑mit chearfully to the ſentence of the law; but conſider, O ye Athenians, what it is that theſe men have done, that they ſhould thus be involved in the ſame calamity with me."’ The people called [291] out vehemently, ‘"They are your accomplices, and we need no farther proof of their guilt."’ A de⯑cree was then drawn up, and read, by which Pho⯑cion and ſeveral others were condemned to death. As they were leading this great man to the place of execution, a friend aſked him if he had any commands to leave for his ſon: ‘"Only this," replied he very coolly, "that he forget how ill the Athenians treated his father."’

The revenge of his enemies was not ſatiated even with his death. They paſſed a decree, by which his body was baniſhed the Athenian territories, and a penalty was denounced againſt any perſon, who ſhould furniſh fire for his funeral pile. One Cono⯑pion conveyed the corpſe a little beyond Eleuſina, where he borrowed fire of a Megarian woman, and burned it. A Megarian matron, who attended on that occaſion, raiſed an humble monument on the ſpot, in memory of the unfortunate orator; and having carried home his aſhes, which ſhe had pre⯑viouſly collected with great care, ſhe buried them under her hearth; putting up, at the ſame time, this prayer to her houſhold gods: ‘"To you, O ye deities, who protect this place, do I commit the precious remains of the moſt excellent Phocion: protect them, I beſeech you, from every inſult, and deliver them one day to be depoſited in the ſepulchre of his anceſtors, when the Athenians ſhall have become wiſer."’

A ſhort time only had intervened, when the prayer of the pious matron was fulfilled. The Athenians, as in former inſtances of a ſimilar kind, began to abate of their fury, and to have their eyes opened to the truth. They recollected the many ſervices which the ſtate had derived from the ſupe⯑rior wiſdom of Phocion's counſels: and on that recollection, they could not but wonder at the part they had acted. They decreed, for the victim of [992] their rage, a ſtatue of braſs; they ordered his aſhes to be brought back to Athens at the public expence; and paſſed an act, by which all his ac⯑cuſers were to be put to death. Agnonides, who had a capital hand in carrying on the proſecution againſt Phocion, was ſeized and executed. Epicurus and Demophilus fled; but Phocion's ſon overtook them, and revenged the death of his father.

Polyperchon having thus freed himſelf from ſo pow⯑erful an opponent as Phocion, proceeded to execute his decree with unrelenting ſeverity; and whoever dared to thwart his will in this particular, was in⯑ſtantly condemned to death. Olympias too, now thinking ſhe might gratify her revenge without con⯑troul, and without the fear of future retribution, be⯑gan to wreak her reſentment upon all thoſe who were either the objects of her jealouſly or hatred. King Aridaeus, the ſon of Philip by a concubine, naturally fell under this predicament. She had already deprived him of his underſtanding by means of a potion ſhe had given him; and ſhe now had the cruelty to deprive him of his life, and even to inflict the ſame puniſhment on his queen Eurydice, who was likewiſe his niece, and grand-daughter to Philip. She had, indeed, ſome ſhadow of reaſon for proceeding to ſuch extremities againſt them. They had not only diſapproved of her return to Macedon, but even raiſed an army to prevent it; but being deſerted by their troops, they were both taken priſoners, and put in confinement. Aridaeus was ſoon after murdered in priſon by a party of Thracians, whom Olympias ſent thither for the purpoſe; and in a little time ſhe diſpatched a meſ⯑ſenger to the queen, with a poniard, a rope, and a cup of poiſon, deſiring her to chuſe which ſhe pleaſed. This meſſage Eurydice received with the greateſt compoſure; and after praying the gods, ‘"that Olympias herſelf might be rewarded with [293] the like preſents,"’ ſhe took the rope, and ſtrangled herſelf. Cynane, her mother, had ſome time before been cut off by the arts of the ſame vindictive woman.

Olympias's thirſt of blood ſeems not to have been quenched by the numerous murders ſhe had com⯑mitted. She now cauſed Nicanor, the brother of Caſſander, to be put to death. The body of Iolas, another brother of Caſſander's, which had long reſted in the tomb, ſhe ordered to be brought forth, and expoſed on the highway; and an hundred Ma⯑cedonians of noble birth were ſeized and executed, on ſuſpicion of having been in the intereſt of Caſ⯑ſander. She had, indeed, great reaſon to hate, or at leaſt to dread that illuſtrious commander; but had ſhe been as cunning as ſhe was cruel, ſhe would have endeavoured to ſoften, rather than inflame his reſentment.

Caſſander, ſenſible of his utter inability to make head againſt her and Polyperchon by any force he could raiſe in Europe, had applied for aſſiſtance to An⯑tigonus in Aſia; and having received a ſmall ſupply of men from that quarter, he returned with them to Athens, where he was gladly received by Nicanor, the governor, who had oppoſed the execution of Polyperchon's decree with great zeal and activity. Their forces being thus joined, gained ſeveral ad⯑vantages over thoſe of Polypherchon and Olympias: they defeated their fleet near Byzantium, and they rendered all their enterprizes by land perfectly ineffectual.

Caſſander, however, with all his good qualitites, ſeems to have been as much tranſported with the luſt of power, as any of the other great men of the age; and to this he was always ready to ſacrifice every tie of juſtice, of honour, and of gratitude. Hearing that Nicanor was beginning to form a ſe⯑parate intereſt of his own, and aimed at no leſs [294] than the ſovereignty of Attica, he contrived to draw him, under pretence of an interview, into an empty houſe, where he had him murdered by ſome aſſaſſins he had prepared for the purpoſe.

For this barbarous act, indeed, he made the beſt amends in his power, by appointing, for his ſuc⯑ceſſor, a man of a moſt excellent character. This was no other than Demetrius Phalereus, the cele⯑brated diſciple of Theophraſtus. Demetrius was at once a philoſopher, an orator, and a man of virtue. Cicero makes mention of his oratory in a very favourable manner; but then he ſays, he was the firſt of all the Greeks who changed the bold, nervous, and reſiſtleſs eloquence of the earlier orators, into the mild and pathetic ſpecies of elo⯑quence; which he thinks is as much inferior, in point of merit, to the former, ‘"as the power of the gently-gliding ſtream, is inferior to that of the rough thundering torrent."’ Demetrius, however, executed his important truſt with ſo much juſtice and equity, and with ſuch an invariable attention to the happineſs of the people he governed, that the Athenians erected no leſs than three hundred ſtatues to his honour, and many of theſe were equeſtrian.

Matters were now tending faſt towards a criſis between Caſſander on the one hand, and Polyperchon and Olympias on the other. Caſſander having di⯑vided his army into two bodies, gave the command of the one to Callas, with orders to march againſt Polyperchon, whoſe troops had been ſeparated from thoſe of Olympias. With the other he himſelf ſet out in purſuit of that woman, who after trying vari⯑ous arts to ſtir up the Macedonians in her favour, was at laſt obliged to take refuge in the city of Pydna, which was ſtrongly fortified. There ſhe was immediately beſieged by Caſſander, who reduced her at length to ſuch difficulties for want of proviſions, that ſhe [295] was forced to ſurrender both herſelf and her army. In taking this mortifying ſtep, however, ſhe had the precaution to ſtipulate for her life; but the kin⯑dred of thoſe whom ſhe had murdered, inſiſting on her death, Caſſander pretended, that the ſtipulation related only to military execution, and he therefore gave her up to the civil laws of her country. The friends of thoſe whom ſhe had ſlain, aſſembled, and accuſed her before the people, by whom ſhe was condemned without being heard. On this occaſion Caſſander offered her a ſhip to convey her to Athens, but ſhe rejected the offer. She inſiſted upon being heard before the Macedonians; and ſaid, ſhe was not afraid to anſwer for all ſhe had done. Caſ⯑ſander was unwilling to abide the iſſue of ſuch a trial as ſhe demanded: he therefore ſent a band of two hundred ſoldiers to put her to death. When the ſoldiers entered the priſon, they were ſtruck with awe at her majeſtic appearance, and refuſed to ex⯑ecute their orders; but the relations of thoſe, who had fallen by her reſentment, ruſhed forward, and cut her throat. She is ſaid to have behaved with much fortitude on that trying occaſion. Caſſander ſuffered her body to lie, for ſome time, unburied; to revenge, perhaps, the inſult which ſhe had offered to the remains of his brother Iolas. Roxana and her ſon (as we have already obſerved) were ſoon after murdered; and the ſame was the fate of Her⯑cules, Alexander's other ſon whom he had by Barſine.

Not more than twenty-eight years had elapſed ſince the death of that conqueror, and not a ſingle branch of his houſe remained to enjoy a portion of the empire, which he and his father had acquired at the price of the greateſt policy, dangers, and blood⯑ſhed. Such, to the royal family of Macedon, were the effects of that ambition, which had lighted up the flames of war in Europe, Aſia, and Africa.

CHAP. XVIII. REVOLUTIONS IN MACEDON AND GREECE, FROM THE OVERTHROW OF THE FAMILY OF PHI⯑LIP, TO THE CONFEDERACY FORMED BY THE MACEDONIANS AND ACHAEANS AGAINST THE AETCLIANS.

THOUGH Caſſander had now eſtabliſhed himſelf on the throne of Macedon, he did not enjoy all that tranquillity which he thought he had reaſon to expect. He found that Polyperchon and his ſon Alexander were forming a party againſt him in Greece; and therefore, in order to counteract their deſigns, he marched into Boeotia, where he not only defeated all their machinations, but likewiſe rebuilt the city of Thebes, about twenty years after it had been deſtroyed by Alexander the Great. This tranſaction he did not long ſurvive. He died in a little time after, leaving behind him two ſons, Antipater and Alexander, who, as uſually happens in ſuch caſes, ſoon began to quarrel about their reſpective right to the throne; and the latter calling in the aid of Demetrius Poliorcetes, this laſt con⯑trived to make away with the man he pretended to aſſiſt, and himſelf got poſſeſſion of the ſovereign power. Of this, however, he was ſoon deprived by the joint efforts of Lyſimachus, and Pyrrhus, king of Epire; the former of whom, partly by open force, and partly by ſecret artifices, found means to make himſelf ſole king of Macedon. But neither did he enjoy his newly acquired power for any length of time, his army being routed, and himſelf ſlain, in a great battle, which he fought with Seleucus, king of Babylon. Seleucus, upon this victory▪ reſigned his Aſiatic dominions to his [297] ſon Antiochus, and came over to Macedon, in the fond hope of paſſing the remainder of his days in the quiet enjoyment of his native country. But he was treacherouſly murdered, about ſeven months after, by Ptolemy Ceraunus ^*, the brother of Caſ⯑ſander; who, to add to his guilt, prevailed upon the widow of Lyſimachus to marry him; but he had no ſooner got her and her children into his power, than he put the young princes to death, and baniſhed the mother into Samothrace.

Crimes ſo atrocious did not long go unpuniſhed. His kingdom (for he had now ſeized on the throne of Macedon) was ſoon over-run by a body of Gauls, who ſuddenly attacked and defeated her forces, and having cut off the head of the king himſelf, they fixed it to the end of a long pole, and thus carried it in triumph through their ranks.

The progreſs, however, of theſe barbarians was at laſt put a ſtop to by the united ſtates of Greece. They ſeveral times attempted to force the ſtraits of Thermopylae, but were always repulſed with con⯑ſiderable loſs. At length they found a paſſage into the interior parts of Greece by the way of mount Oeta, and directed their march towards the temple of Delphi, which they intended to plunder. But the inhabitants of that ſacred city, inſpired by re⯑ligious enthuſiaſm, made a deſperate ſally upon the barbarians, who, ſtruck with a panic, fled with pre⯑cipitation. The purſuit was continued for a whole day and night; and a violent ſtorm and piercing cold co-operating with the fury of the victorious Greeks, moſt of the enemy periſhed either by the ſword or the ſeverity of the weather. Brennus, their leader, unable to bear the ſmart of the wounds he had received, and diſtracted at the ſame time with religious horror, put an end to his own life. The few that ſurvived, having aſſembled together, [298] endeavoured to effect a retreat from ſo fatal a country. But the different nations roſe upon them as they paſſed; and of all thoſe multitudes, which had poured out of Macedon into Greece, not one returned to his native land. Juſtin ſays they were all cut off; though other hiſtorians alledge, that a remnant of them made their eſcape into Thrace and Aſia.

The Delphians did not depend entirely on their courage in repelling the barbarians; they employed two very ingenious and ſucceſsful ſtratagems againſt them. They procured an order from the oracle, commanding the inhabitants of the adjacent villages to abandon their dwellings, and to leave them well ſtored with wines and all kinds of proviſions. The conſequence was, that the Gauls, who, like all other barbarians, were naturally voracious, and had their appetites ſharpened by a long want of ſuſtenance, fell ravenouſly upon theſe dainties, and thus through intemperance loſt much of that vigour, which had hitherto been the principal cauſe of the ſucceſs of their arms. The other ſtratagem was this; mount Parnaſſus, which ſtood cloſe by the city of Delphos, was furniſhed with many caves and hollow wind⯑ings. In theſe numbers of people were ſtationed, with inſtructions, on proper occaſions, to ſet up loud ſhouts, and to make the moſt frightful yellings and ſcreams. Theſe iſſuing forth without any viſible cauſe filled the barbarians with terror, as if they proceeded from ſomething more than human; and therefore believing they were warring with ſuperior beings, not with men, they betook themſelves to a pre⯑cipitate retreat, even almoſt before they were attack⯑ed. This body of Gauls formed only a part of that immenſe ſhoal, which to the number, it is ſaid, of no leſs than three hundred thouſand, poured out of their own country in queſt of new ſettlements; and though they were defeated and cut off in Greece, [299] yet they had the courage to take and plunder Rome.

The Macedonian throne, after the death of Pto⯑lemy Ceraunus, was filled by Antigonus, the ſon of Demetrius Poliorcetes; he was depoſed and ſucceeded Pyrrhus, king of Epire: but, upon the death of this laſt prince, Antigonus once more aſſumed the ſove⯑reign ſway. Nothing remarkable happened during the reign of either of theſe kings, except that Pyrrhus, the moſt warlike prince of his time, and, in the opinion of Hannibal, the greateſt general that ever lived, made an attempt upon the liberty of Sparta; and advancing to the gates of the city with a powerful army, the inhabitants were ſtruck with ſo much terror, that they propoſed ſending off their women to a place of ſafety. But Archidamia who was delegated by the Spartan ladies, entered the ſenate-houſe with a ſword in her hand, and de⯑livered their ſentiments and her own in theſe words: ‘"Think not, O men of Sparta! ſo meanly of your country-women, as to imagine that we will ſurvive the ruin of the ſtate. Deliberate not then whither we are to fly, but what we are to do."’ In conſequence of this, the whole body of citizens exerted themſelves with ſuch undaunted courage, that they repulſed Pyrrhus in all his at⯑tempts to deſtroy the city. They even purſued him in his retreat, and ſlew Ptolemy his ſon, who was bringing up the rear of his army. Pyrrhus himſelf ſoon after periſhed in a like attempt upon Argos.

Antigonus, upon his re-aſcending the throne, defeated a body of Gauls, who had made a freſh ir⯑ruption into Macedon; and encouraged by this ſuc⯑ceſs, he began to entertain thoughts of making himſelf abſolute maſter of Greece. He even pro⯑ceeded ſo far, as to compel the Athenians to re⯑ceive a Macedonian garriſon; and he would pro⯑bably [300] have impoſed the ſame badge of ſlavery on the other ſtates of Greece, had not death put an end to all his ambitious projects. He was ſucceeded by his ſon Demetrius, and this laſt by his kinſman Antigonus, neither of whoſe reigns were diſ⯑tinguiſhed by any remarkable events.

About this time the republic of Achaia began to make a capital figure, and bade fair for reſtoring that ſpirit of liberty in Greece, which had in a great meaſure been extinguiſhed, partly by the diſ⯑ſenſions of the different ſtates among themſelves, but chiefly by the encroachments of the Macedo⯑nian monarchs. This republic conſiſted originally of twelve towns, that were aſſociated together for their mutual defence. They had the ſame friend⯑ſhips and the ſame enmities; the ſame coins, weights and meaſures; the ſame laws, and the ſame magiſ⯑trates. Theſe magiſtrates were elected annually, by a majority of voices throughout the whole com⯑munity. Twice in the year, or oftener if neceſſary, a general aſſembly, conſiſting of deputies from the different cities, was held for the great purpoſes of legiſlation and government. The magiſtrates, who were inveſted with the ſupreme executive power, were ſtyled generals of the ſtates of Achaia. They commanded the military force of the republic, and poſſeſſed the right of preſiding in the national aſ⯑ſembly. Their number was originally two; but from the inconveniencies attendant on a divided government, was at laſt reduced to one. A council of ten, called Demiurgi, aſſiſted the general with their advice, and examined all matters intended to be brought before the national aſſembly, and pro⯑poſed or rejected them at pleaſure. The power of the Demiurgi, in this laſt reſpect, was exactly the ſame as that of the lords of articles in the ancient government of Scotland. Beſides theſe ſuperior magiſtrates, every town had alſo its municipal ma⯑giſtracy, [301] conſiſting alſo, as is generally ſuppoſed, like the national conſtitution, of a popular aſſembly, a council, and a preſiding magiſtrate. With re⯑ſpect to the laws of the Achaeans, the moſt material object in the hiſtory of any people, our knowledge is extremely imperfect. Such of them, however, as have come down to us, are proofs of their political wiſdom.

It was enacted, that whatever individual or town, belonging to the Achaean confederacy, ſhould ac⯑cept of any gratification whatſoever, in its public or private capacity, from prince or people, ſhould be cut off from the commonwealth of Achaia: that no member of the Achaean league ſhould ſend any embaſſy, or contract any alliance or friendſhip with any prince or people, without the privity and approbation of the whole Achaean confederacy. The unanimous conſent of the whole confederacy was neceſſary for the admiſſion into it of any prince, ſtate, or city. A convention of the national aſ⯑ſembly was not to be granted at the requeſt of any foreign prince, unleſs the matters to be offered to their conſideration were firſt delivered, in writing, to the general of Achaia, and the council of ten, and pronounced by them to be of ſufficient impor⯑tance. The deliberations of every aſſembly were to be wholly confined to the matters on account of which they had been convened. In all debates, thoſe who ſpoke were to deliver a ſhort ſketch of the arguments they employed, in order to their be⯑ing conſidered the enſuing day; and within three days, at fartheſt, was the buſineſs before them to be finally determined.

The general tendency of the Achaean league was ſo favourable to the liberties of mankind, that moſt of the neighbouring ſtates aſſociated themſelves with it; but when the power of Macedon became para⯑mount to that of all Greece, many of the mem⯑bers [302] deſerted the confederacy, and fell under the dominion of various tyrants. From this ſtate of ſlavery, however, they were, in a little time, freed by the ſpirit and activity of Aratus, a native of Si⯑cyon, who having firſt delivered his own country from the tyranny of Nicocles, its ſovereign, and being in conſequence of this choſen general of Achaia, proceeded to attack one petty tyrant after another, till at laſt he re-eſtabliſhed all the ſtates of Greece in the poſſeſſion of their ancient freedom. But this happy ſituation of affairs was not of long continuance: it was ſoon overturned by the jealouſy and ambition of thoſe very parties, from whoſe love of liberty it had originally ſprung.

CHAP. XIX. FROM THE CONFEDERACY BETWEEN THE AETO⯑LIANS AND SPARTANS AGAINST THE ACHAE⯑ANS, TO THE INVASION OF GREECE BY ANTI⯑OCHUS KING OF SYRIA.

THE Aetolians were the firſt that began to look, with a jealous eye, on the ſuperiority of the Achaeans over the other ſtates of Greece; and they laboured, and that with but too much ſucceſs, to in⯑fuſe the like prejudices into the Spartans. The man⯑ners of this laſt people were now totally altered. They had exchanged poverty and hardy diſcipline for opulence and a luxurious ſtile of living. The lands, which were formerly divided, in equal por⯑tions, among the whole body of the people, were now engroſſed by a few families, who lived in the greateſt ſplendour and magnificence, while the reſt of the citizens were plunged in the utmoſt poverty and diſtreſs. Agis, one of their moſt virtuous [303] kings, was put to death, for attempting to reſtore the agrarian and ſumptuary laws of Lycurgus. Cleo⯑menes, however, his ſucceſſor, was more fortunate. He actually did reſtore theſe laws, though not till he had acquired ſufficient popularity to ſet all op⯑poſition at defiance. This popularity he owed chiefly to the ſucceſs of his arms againſt the Achaeans and their allies, ſeveral of whoſe towns he attacked and ſubdued; and he even defeated their army in two pitched battles, the one at Leuctra, and the other at Hecatombaeum.

Aratus, provoked at the conduct of Cleomenes in thus making war upon the Achaeans without any viſible cauſe, threw himſelf on the protection of Antigonus, king of Macedon; and in order to induce him to grant the aid he requeſted, he en⯑tered into a compact with that monarch, the con⯑ditions of which were: That the citadel of Corinth ſhould be delivered into the hands of the king; that he ſhould be at the head of the Achaean confederacy, ſuperintend their councils, and direct their opera⯑tions; that his army ſhould be ſupported at their expence; that neither embaſſy nor letter ſhould be ſent to any power without his approbation; and that no city, ſtate, or people, ſhould be, from that time, admitted into the Achaean league without his conſent. From theſe articles it is evident, that the liberties of Achaia were now no more, and that the real ſovereign of that country was Antigonus.

The conduct of Aratus in making this treaty, was more unpopular than that of Cleomenes in attack⯑ing the Achaeans: the conſequence was, that moſt of the ſtates of Greece abandoned the cauſe of the former, and eſpouſed that of the latter, whom they now conſidered as the only protector of their liberties. But Antigonus, beſides being an excel⯑lent general, was poſſeſſed of greater reſources than any Cleomenes could command; and thus having [304] contrived, after various manoeuvres, to bring him to an engagement, he not only gave him a complete overthrow, but compelled him to fly into Egypt, where being ſuſpected of forming de⯑ſigns againſt the government, he was cruelly put to death.

Antigonus himſelf died ſoon after, and was ſuc⯑ceeded by Philip, the ſon of Demetrius, the laſt of the Macedonian kings of that name. This prince, treading in the ſteps of his predeceſſor, reſolved to give effectual aid to the Achaeans; which he accordingly did, by carrying the war into Aetolia itſelf, and reducing a great number of its ſtrong holds. Though naturally poſſeſſed of great mo⯑deration, he now began to entertain the hope of making himſelf maſter of all Greece, by forming a junction with Hannibal, who was then carrying on war againſt the Romans. He ſent ambaſſadors to the Carthaginian general, and a treaty was con⯑cluded between them, importing that Philip ſhould furniſh a fleet and army, to aſſiſt Hannibal in making a conqueſt of Italy; after which, Hannibal ſhould paſs into Epire, and having completed the reduc⯑tion of the whole country, ſhould yield up to Philip ſuch places as lay convenient for Macedon. Philip performed his part of the agreement. He entered the Ionian gulf with a large fleet, and took Oricum, a ſea-port on the coaſt of Epire; but being ſur⯑prized and defeated by the Romans, he was obliged to return diſgracefully into his own country.

The Romans had their hands too full of the war with Hannibal, to think of carrying their arms into Macedon; but they took care to find employ⯑ment for Philip, by encouraging his enemies in Greece to attack him. For this purpoſe they entered into a treaty with the Aetolians, of which the following were the principal conditions: That the Aetolians ſhould immediately commence hoſtilities againſt [305] Philip by land, which the Romans were to ſup⯑port by a fleet of twenty gallies; that whatever conqueſts might be made, from the confines of Aetolia to Corcyra, the cities, buildings, and ter⯑ritory ſhould belong to the Aetolians, but every other kind of plunder to the Romans. The Spar⯑tans and Eleans, with other ſtates, were included in this alliance; and the war commenced with the reduction of the iſland of Zacynthus, which, as an earneſt of Roman generoſity and good faith, was immediately annexed to the dominions of Aetolia. Theſe things happened about two hundred and eight years before the birth of Chriſt.

The Romans having thus obtained a footing in Greece, ſoon extended and eſtabliſhed their power throughout the whole of that renowned country. Agreeably to their uſual policy, they availed them⯑ſelves of the credulity, the diſſenſions, the ambition, and the avarice of the different chiefs; ever vigilant to ſupport the weaker againſt the ſtronger party, that the diminiſhed ſtrength of each individual ſtate might lead the way to the conqueſt of the whole.

Mean while the war continued to be carried on between Philip and the Aetolians with equal vigour, and almoſt with equal ſucceſs on both ſides, till at laſt the former was obliged to return into his own kingdom, to ſuppreſs a rebellion which had there broke out. The Achaeans, however, though de⯑prived of the aid of ſo powerful a monarch, were ſtill able to make head againſt their enemies. They were now commanded by Philopaemen in the room of Aratus, whom Philip had poiſoned, on account of his oppoſing the ambitious deſign which the latter had formed of ſubduing all Greece. They even de⯑feated the armies of Aetolia and Elis in a great battle; but after the war had continued for the ſpace of ſix years, it was at length terminated by a [306] peace between the Romans on the one hand, and Philip on the other.

This peace, however, was but of ſhort duration. For Philip having invaded the dominions of the king of Egypt, as alſo the territories of ſeveral of the ſtates of Greece, complaints were brought againſt him, on that account, before the Roman ſenate, who immediately diſpatched an ambaſſador to him, ſtrictly charging him, in the name of the republic, to deſiſt from all hoſtilities againſt thoſe powers, and to refer the matters in diſpute between him and them to a fair arbitration. Marcus Aemilius, who carried this order, delivered it with all that dignity and firmneſs which diſtinguiſhed the Roman cha⯑racter. ‘"The boaſtful inexperience of youth," ſaid the king to him, "thy gracefulneſs of perſon, and ſtill more, the name of Roman, inſpire thee with this haughtineſs. It is my wiſh that Rome may obſerve the faith of treaties; but ſhould ſhe be in⯑clined again to hazard an appeal to arms, I truſt, that, with the protection of the gods, I ſhall render the Macedonian name as formidable as that of the Roman."’ Theſe events happened about one hun⯑dred and ninety-nine years before the birth of Chriſt.

Philip ſoon found, that the ſtile of the Roman ambaſſadors was not more imperious, than their power was irreſiſtible; for Titus Quintus Flaminius, be⯑ing appointed to command againſt him, reduced him, in a little time, to the hard neceſſity of ac⯑cepting a peace on the following conditions: ‘"That all the Greek cities, both in Aſia and Europe, ſhould be free, and reſtored to the enjoyment of their own laws: that Philip, before the next Iſth⯑mian games, ſhould deliver up to the Romans all the Greeks he had in any part of his dominions, and evacuate all the places he poſſeſſed either in Greece or in Aſia: that he ſhould give up all pri⯑ſoners and deſerters: that he ſhould ſurrender all [307] his decked ſhips of every kind, five ſmall veſſels, and his own galley of ſixteen banks of oars, excepted; that he ſhould pay the Romans a thouſand talents, one half down, and the reſt at ten equal annual payments; and that, as a ſecurity for the perform⯑ance of theſe article, he ſhould gives hoſtages, his ſon Demetrius being one.’ This event happened an hundred and ninety-three years before Chriſt.

CHAP. XX. FROM THE INVASION OF GREECE BY ANTIO⯑CHUS, TO THE TIME OF ITS BECOMING A ROMAN PROVINCE.

THOUGH the Romans, by their treaty with Philip, pretended to re-eſtabliſh the Greeks in the poſſeſſion of their ancient freedom, yet no⯑thing was farther from their intention. On the contrary, they meant to reduce them under their own dominion. The queſtion was not whether the Greeks ſhould be enſlaved, but who ſhould be their maſters; and the Romans thought, and it muſt be owned with ſome ſhadow of juſtice, that there was no people in the world better intitled to ſuch a diſ⯑tinction than themſelves. They therefore ſought for a plauſible pretext of carrying their arms a ſecond time into Greece; and it was not long before this was afforded them by Antiochus, king of Syria. For that prince having invaded Greece, under pre⯑tence of ſupporting his own rights, was oppoſed by the Romans on the ſpecious plea of defending the public liberty; and who not only defeated his forces, but compelled him to retire into his Aſiatic domi⯑nions. The Aetolians, too, though they formerly co-operated with the Romans as allies, could not think of enduring them as maſters; and they [308] therefore endeavoured to thwart their deſign of uſurping the ſovereignty of the Grecian republics; but the conſul Acilius Glabrio ſoon reduced their power to ſo low an ebb, that they were glad to ac⯑cept of a peace upon any terms, and even virtually to give up their independence, by promiſing to pay obſervance to the empire and majeſty of the Roman people.

The efforts of the Achaeans to prevent the eſta⯑bliſhment of the Roman empire in Greece were not more ſucceſsful. Above a thouſand of their leading men were tranſported to Rome, in order to anſwer for the pretended crime of having ſecretly abetted the king of Macedon, who had had the courage or temerity to oppoſe the Romans in the field. But that prince, whoſe name was Perſeus, and who was ſon and ſucceſſor to Philip, was not only defeated in a great battle; but being taken priſoner, was carried to Rome, and thrown into a dungeon, where he ſtarved himſelf to death. His only ſur⯑viving ſon, Alexander, became a clerk to one of the Roman magiſtrates. Macedon was immediately formed into a Roman province, as were likewiſe, in a little time after, all the different ſtates of Greece. Theſe things fell out about an hundred and ſixty-three years before the birth of Chriſt.

From this time forward few events of any great con⯑ſequence happened in Greece, and thoſe that occurred belong more properly to Roman than to Grecian hiſtory. We ſhall therefore purſue them no farther at preſent, but conclude with obſerving, that de⯑preſſed as the Greeks now unhappily were under a foreign yoke, and conſequently deprived of their national character as a free and independent people, they yet retained, amidſt all their calamities, that ſtrength of genius and delicacy of taſte, that quick⯑neſs of invention and acuteneſs of diſcernment, for which they had ever been remarkable: that they [309] helped to poliſh their haughty and as yet but half-civilized conquerors; that, upon the deſtruction of the weſtern empire, they ſucceſsfully cultivated the arts and ſciences, while all the reſt of the world was ſunk in the groſſeſt ignorance and barbariſm; and that, upon the taking of Conſtantinople by the Turks, they carried thoſe arts and ſciences with them into Italy, and there paved the way for the revival of that learning, which has ever ſince enlightened, and ſtill continues to enlighten mankind.