that the treasury should advance the sum necessary to replace the things which had been stolen; and that the wife and children of Regulus should, during his absence, be supported at the charge of the Roman people. In just admiration of this simplicity, Livy exclaims: "O how far preferable is virtue to riches! These pass away with their possessors; but the poverty of Regulus is still held in veneration!"

Regulus, proceeding from victory to victory, soon made himself master of Tunis. The fall of that town filled the Carthaginians with consternation; they begged peace of the proconsul. This husbandman of Rome proved that it is much easier to guide the plough, after gaining splendid victories, than to direct with a steady hand the brilliant car of prosperity. The truly great man is more particularly fitted to shine in adversity; he seems bewildered with success, and appears, as it were, a stranger to fortune. Regulus proposed such hard terms to his enemies, that they found themselves under the necessity of continuing the

war.

During these negociations, fate conducted across the sea a man who was destined to change the face of affairs. A Lacedæmonian, named Xanthippus, appeared to defer the fate of Carthage: he gave battle to the Romans under the walls of Tunis, destroyed their army, and took Regulus himself prisoner, after which he again embarked and dis

appeared, without leaving behind in history any farther traces of his existence.*

Regulus, being conducted to Carthage, underwent the most inhuman treatment; he was made to expiate the cruel triumphs of his country. Could they, who with such arrogance dragged at their chariot-wheels monarchs whom they had precipitated from their thrones, women and children in tears, could they hope for indulgence in captivity to a citizen of Rome?

Fortune again declared in favor of the Romans. Carthage once more sued for peace; she sent ambassadors to Italy, and Regulus accompanied them. His masters exacted from him a promise that he would return to his fetters, if the negociations should not terminate acording to their wishes; hoping that he would spare no exertion to bring about a peace, by which he would be restored to his country.

Regulus, on his arrival at the gates of Rome, refused to enter the city. There was an ancient law prohibiting any stranger to introduce the ambassadors of a hostile nation to the senate; and Regulus, considering himself as an envoy of the Carthaginians, caused the obsolete custom to be revived on this occasion. The senators were in consequence obliged to assemble without the walls of the city. Regulus declared that he came by

* Some writers accuse the Carthaginians of having caused him to be put to death, from jealousy of his glory: but there is no proof of this..

order of his masters, to solicit of the Roman people either peace or an exchange of prisoners. The ambassadors of Carthage having explained the object of their mission, withdrew. Regulus would have followed them, but the senators requested him to remain during their deliberations.

Being pressed to give his opinion, he strongly represented all the reasons which Rome had for continuing the war with Carthage. The senators, admiring his magnanimity, were desirous of saying such a citizen; and the pontifex maximus maintained that he might be released from the oaths which he had taken. "Follow the advice which I have given you," said the illustrious captive, in a tone which astonished the assembly, "and forget Regulus : never will I dwell in Rome after having been the slave of Carthage. I will not draw down upon you the indignation of the gods. I have promised our enemies to place myself again in their hands if you reject their proposals, and I will not violate my oath. Jupiter cannot be deluded with vain expiations; the blood of bulls and sheep cannot wash away the guilt of perjury, and sacrilege is sooner or later overtaken by certain punishment. I am not ignorant of the fate which awaits me; but a crime would contaminate my soul, while torments can affect only my body. Besides, there are no evils for him who knows how to endure them; if

they surpass the powers of nature, death delivers us from them. Conscript fathers, cease to pity me; my resolution is taken, and nothing can induce me

to change it. I shall return to Carthage; I will do my duty, and leave the rest to the gods."

To diminish the interest that was taken in his fate, and to escape the condolence of unavailing compassion, Regulus crowned his magnanimity by informing the senators that the Carthaginians had forced him to drink a slow poison before they released him from confinement. "Thus," added he, "you lose me but for a few moments, which are not worth purchasing at the price of perjury." He rose and withdrew from Rome without uttering another word, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground, and repulsing his wife and children who went to meet him; either fearing lest he should be too deeply affected at parting from them, or under the idea that, as a slave of the Carthaginians, he was unworthy of the embraces of a Roman matron. He ended his days in the most cruel tortures, unless the silence of Polybius and Diodorus be supposed to invalidate the testimony of the Latin historians. Regulus was a memorable example of the influence of the obligation of an oath and the love of country on a courageous soul. If even pride had some share in the resolution of his undaunted mind, still, by thus punishing himself for having been vanquished, he proved that he was worthy of the victory.

After twenty-four years' fighting, a treaty of peace put an end to the first Punic war. The Romans were no longer a nation of husbandmen governed by a senate of kings, erecting altars to

moderation and mediocrity; they were men who felt themselves formed to command, and whom ambition incessantly impelled to injustice. Under a frivolous pretence they invaded Sardinia, and exulted in having made a conquest from the Carthaginians in time of profound peace. They knew not that the avenger of violated faith was already at the gates of Saguntum, and that he would soon appear on the hills of Rome. Here commences the second Punic war.

Hannibal appears to me to have been the greatest general of antiquity: if he does not win more love than any other, he at least excites higher admiration. He possessed neither the heroism of Alexander nor the universal genius of Cæsar, but, as a military man, he surpassed them both. It is in general the love of country or of glory that conducts heroes to great achievements: Hannibal alone was guided by hatred. Inflamed with this spirit of a new kind, he sets out from the extremities of Spain, with an army composed of the people of twenty different countries. He passes the Pyrenees, marches through Gaul, subdues hostile nations by the way, crosses rivers, and arrives at the foot of the Alps. These trackless mountains, defended by barbarians, in vain oppose the career of Hannibal. He falls from their icy summits upon Italy, annihilates the first consular army on the banks of the Ticinus, strikes a second blow at Trebia, a`third at Thrasymene, and with the fourth seems to immolate Rome in the plain of Cannæ. For six