which seem to belong to the later period of social progress in Europe, have, therefore, received no notice in the following pages.

The author has been careful in consulting authorities, though he has abstained from loading his pages with references. The quotations are taken immediately, not second-hand, from the works cited at the foot of the page; and in referring to books as authorities, the author has generally chosen such as are best known, easiest of access, and most adapted to furnish additional interesting information on the topics in question.

GLIMPSES

OF

THE DARK AGES.

CHAPTER I.

THE FALL OF ROME.

SECTION 1.-TAKING OF THE CITY.

THE city of Rome had sustained little diminution in her architectural splendour, when the setting sun shed his parting beams, as if with prophetic significance, upon the gilded roof of the venerable capitol, on the evening of the 24th of August, A.D. 410. The temple of Jupiter, though shorn of some of the dazzling ornaments with which the emperor Domitian had adorned its portals and pediments, still remained an imposing monument of the ancient paganism of the Imperial City. Other costly temples and public buildings, clustered around that seat of Roman pride and greatness, and met and charmed the eye of the citizen, as he ascended the slope of the Capitoline Hill. With a lordly air, these noble structures threw their long shadows over the spacious forum, where, of old, the sons of the republic had been accustomed to gather in

crowds around the rostrum, to listen to the speeches of their orators; and where still the degenerate Roman was reminded of the deeds of his fathers, by the monuments of patriotism and victory which were strewn around him. On that evening, might be seen many a citizen and foreigner passing to and fro, along its stately colonnades, or reclining at his ease upon the marble seats; and in whatever direction he went, on leaving that far-famed spot, he passed through squares and streets which were adorned with temples, palaces and baths, such as could have been erected in no city but one that had enriched itself with the spoils of the whole world. In short, Rome had undergone but little alteration since the eastern emperor Constantius, fifty years before, on visiting the city of his fathers, had been overwhelmed with astonishment at its surpassing magnificence. An historian of that period,* describing the visit in that inflated style which is so characteristic of the age, observes: "As Constantius viewed the seven-hilled city, with its valleys and suburban districts, every object around him seemed to shine with transcendent splendour :-the temple of Tarpeian Jove exceeding every thing he had beheld, as much as a Divine production could exceed the works of man; the spacious baths spreading around like provinces; the Amphitheatre with its solid walls of Tiburtine marble, and so lofty, that the

* Ammianus Marcellinus, lib. xvi. c. 10.

eye is fatigued in looking upward to its summit; the Pantheon, with its vast circular space, arched over by a magnificent dome; and its lofty pediments rising one above another, and crowned with statues of Roman heroes; the Forum and Temple of peace; the Theatre of Pompey; the Musical Hall; the Stadia, and other imposing objects in the Eternal City. But when he came to the Forum of Trajan-the most astonishing structure under the face of heaven, and, as I conceive, wonderful in the estimation of the deities themselves-he was struck with astonishment, while considering its gigantic buildings, which are not to be described in language, or again to be equalled by mortal skill. Discarding the idea of erecting another forum like that, he thought that he might rear an equestrian statue, which should resemble the colossal horse of Tra jan; but this design he also abandoned, upon hearing it remarked by the prince, Hormisdas, If you would succeed in having a similar horse, you must first provide a similar stable.'” Such was the grandeur of ancient Rome; and it was probably with feelings of admiration like those of the emperor and his historian, that many a citizen returned from the baths and the forums to his own dwelling on the eventful evening in question. Gradually the sounds of business, and the murmur of voices in the streets died away: and as the stars shone forth in the face of heaven, the mighty city slept in silence. But it was a silence soon to be disturbed.

At the midnight hour, a blast of trumpets like the roar of thunder reverberated from hill to hill, and woke up myriads of the inhabitants from their deep slumbers-it was the signal that Alaric the Goth, with his mighty army, had entered Rome.

Two years before the barbarian general had besieged the city. Swayed by what he conceived a supernatural impulse, he led his victorious troops down the passes of the Apennines, upon the rich plains of Italy. A pious monk, it is said, met the warrior on his way, and exhorted him to refrain from his expedition; but he replied, "I am urged on in spite of myself, by an irresistible impulse which is continually saying to me,' March to Rome and desolate the city.' Thus, prompted by his ambition, he fulfilled his destiny, and wreaked a fearful amount of vengeance on the heads of the Romans, for the wrongs which they had inflicted upon others. Twice did he blockade the gates of Rome, and subdue the proud masters of the world. During the first siege, the terrors of famine and pestilence reduced the senate to submission, and the conqueror agreed to raise the siege, only upon the condition of his being paid a very large ransom. Negotiations for peace with the emperor Honorius, who was then at Ravenna, having failed, Alaric returned to Rome and again pitched his camp before the walls. The remembrance of their calamities,

*Socrates, Hist. lib. vii. c. 10.