in them. He applauds the Romans on many occasions, and particularly in his books De Civitate Dei, * which is one of the last and finest of his works. He there shows, that the Álmighty raised them to be victorious over nations, and sovereigns of a great part of the earth, because of the gentleness and equity of their government (alluding to the happy ages of the commonwealth :) thus bestowing on virtues, that were merely human, rewards of the same kind with which that people, though very judicious in other respects, were so unhappy as to content themselves. St. Austin therefore does not condemn the encomiums which are bestowed on the heathens, but only the excess of them. Students ought to take care, and especially we, who by the duties of our profession are obliged to be perpetually conversant with heathen authors, not to enter too far into the spirit of them; not to imbibe unperceived their sentiments, by lavishing too much applause on their heroes; nor to give into excesses, which the heathens indeed did not consider as such, because they were not acquainted with virtues of a purer kind. Some persons, whose friendship I esteem as I ought, and for whose learning and judgment I have the highest regard, have found this defect in some parts of my work, on the Method of teaching and studying the Belles Lettres, &c. and are of opinion that I have gone too great lengths in the encomiums I bestow on the illustrious men of antiquity. I indeed own, that the expressions on those occasions are sometimes too strong and too unguarded: however, I imagined that I had supplied a proper corrective to this, by the hints with which I have interspersed those four volumes, and therefore, that it would be only losing time to repeat them; not to mention my having laid down, in different places, the principles which the fathers of the church establish on this head, in declaring with St. Austin, that without true piety, that is, without a sincere worship of God, there can be no true virtue; and that no virtue can be sucn, whose object is worldly glory; a truth, says this father, acknowledged universally by those who are inspired with real and solid piety. Illud constat, inter omnes veraciter pios, neminem sine vera pietate, id est veri Dei vero cultu, veram posse habere virtutem; nec eam veram esse, quando gloriæ servet humanæ.† When I observed that Perseus had not resolution enough to kill himself, I did not thereby pretend to justify the practice of the heathens, who looked upon suicide as lawful: but simply to relate an incident, and the judgment which Paulus Æmilius passed on it. Had I barely hinted a word or two against that custom, it would have obviated all mistake, and left no room for censure. The ostracism, employed at Athens against persons of the greatest merit; theft connived at, as one would imagine, by Lycurgus in Sparta; an equality with regard to possessions established in the same city, by the authority of the state, and things of a like nature, may admit of some difficulty. However, I shall pay a more immediate attention to these particulars, § when the course of the history brings me to them; and shall be proud of receiving such lights as the learned and unprejudiced may please to communicate. In a work like that I now offer to the public, intended more immediately for the instruction of youth, it were heartily to be wished, there might not be a single thought or expression that could contribute to inculcate false or dangerous principles. When I first set about writing the present history, I proposed this for my maxim, the importance of which I perfectly conceive, but am far from imagining that I have always observed it, though it was my intention to do so; and therefore on this, as on many other occasions, I shall stand in need of the reader's indulgence. As I write principally for the instruction of youth, and for persons who do not intend to make very deep researches into ancient history, I shall not crowd this work with a sort of erudition, that otherwise might have been introduced † De Civitate Dei, lib. v, c. 19. Lib. v. cap. 19, 21, &c. naturally into it, but does not suit my purpose. My design is, in giving a continued series of ancient history, to extract from the Greek and Latin authors all that I shall judge most useful and entertaining with respect to the transactions, and most instructive with regard to the reflections. I wish it were possible for me to avoid the dry sterility of epitomes, which convey no distinct idea to the mind; and at the same time the tedious accuracy of long histories, which tire the reader's patience. I am sensible that it is difficult to steer exactly between the two extremes; and although, in the two parts of history which commence this work, I have retrenched a great part of what we meet with in ancient authors, they may still be thought too long; but I was afraid of spoiling the incidents, by being too studious of brevity. However, the taste of the public shall be my guide, to which I will endeavour to conform hereafter. I was so happy as not to displease the public in my first attempt.* I wish the present work may be equally successful, but dare not raise my hopes so high. The subjects I there treated, viz. polite literature, poetry, eloquence, and curious pieces of history, gave me an opportunity of introducing into it, from ancient and modern authors, whatever is most beautiful, affecting, delicate, and just, with regard both to thought and expression. The beauty and justness of the things themselves which I offered the reader, made him more indulgent to the manner in which they were presented to him; and besides, the variety of the subjects supplied the want of those graces which might have been expected from the style and composition. But I have not the same advantage in the present work, the choice of the subjects not being entirely at my discretion. In a series of history, an author is often obliged to introduce a great many things that are not always very interesting, especially with regard to the origin and rise of empires; these parts are generally overrun with thorns, and offer very few flowers. However, the sequel furnishes matter of a more pleasing nature, and events that engage more strongly the reader's attention; and I shall take care to make use of whatever is most valuable in the best authors. In the mean time, I must intreat the reader to remember, that in a widely extended and beautiful region, the eye does not every where meet with golden harvests, smiling meads, and fruitful orchards; but sees, at different intervals, wild and less cultivated tracts of land. And to use another comparison after Pliny, † some trees in the spring emulously shoot forth a numberless multitude of blossoms, which, by this rich dress, (the splendour and vivacity of whose colours charm the eye, proclaim a happy abundance in a more advanced season; while other trees, of a less gay and florid kind, though they bear good fruits, have not, however, the fragrance and beauty of blossoms, nor seem to share in the joy of reviving nature. The reader will easily apply this image to the composition of history. To adorn and enrich my own, I will be so ingenuous as to confess, that I do not scruple, nor am ashamed, to rifle wherever I come; and that I often do not cite the authors from whom I transcribe, because of the liberty I take to make some slight alterations. I have made the best use in my power of the solid reflections that occur in the second and third parts of the Bishop of Meaux's Universal History, which is one of the most beautiful and most useful books in our language. I have also received great assistance from the learned Dean Prideaux's Connexion of the Old and New Testament, in which he has traced and cleared up, in an admirable manner, the particulars relating The method of teaching and studying the Belles Lettres, &c. The English translation (in four volames) of this excellent piece of criticism, has gone through several editions. † Arborum flos, est pleni veris indicium, et anni renascentis flos gaudium arborum. Tunc se novas, aliasque quam sunt, ostendunt, tunc variis colorum picturis in certamen usque luxuriant. Sed hoc negatum plerisque. Non enim omnes florent, et sunt tristes quædam, quæque non sentiant gaudia annorum; nec ullo flore exhilarantur, natalesve pomorum recursus annuos versicolori nuncio promittunt.-Plin. Nat. Hist. ! xvi. c. 25. to ancient history. I shall take the same liberty with whatever comes in my way that may suit my design, and contribute to its perfection. am very sensible, that it is not so much for a person's reputation thus to make use of other men's labours, and that it is in a manner renouncing the name and quality of author. But I am not over-fond of that title, and shall be extremely well pleased, and think myself very happy, if I can but deserve the name of a good compiler, and supply my readers with a tolerable history, who will not be over-solicitous to inquire what hand it comes from, provided they are pleased with it. Students, with a very noderate application, may easily go through this course of history in a year, without interrupting their other studies. According to my plan, my work should be given to the highest form but one. Youths in this class are capable of pleasure and improvement from this history; and I would not have them enter upon that of the Romans, till they study rhetoric. It would have been useful, and even necessary, to have given some idea of the ancient authors from whom I have extracted the following materials. But the course itself of the history will show this, and naturally give me an opportunity of producing them. The judgment we ought to form of the auguries, prodigies, and oracles of the ancients. In the mean time it may not be improper to take notice of the superstitious credulity objected to most of these authors, with regard to auguries, auspices, prodigies, dreams, and oracles; and, indeed, we are shocked to see writers, so judicious in all other respects, lay it down as a kind of law, to relate these particulars with a scrupulous accuracy, and to dwell gravely on a tedious detail of trifling and ridiculous ceremonies, such as the flight of birds to the right or left hand, signs discovered in the smoking entrails of beasts, the greater or less greediness of chickens in pecking corn, and a thousand similar absurdities. It must be confessed, that a reader of judgment cannot, without astonishment, see the most illustrious persons among the ancients, for wisdom and Knowledge; generals who were the least liable to be influenced by popular opinions, and most sensible how necessary it is to take advantage of auspicious moments; the wisest councils of princes perfectly well skilled in the arts of government; the most august assemblies of grave senators; in a word, the inost powerful and most learned nations in all ages; to see, I say, all these so unaccountably weak as to make the decision of the greatest affairs, such as the declaring war, the giving battle, or pursuing a victory, depend on the trifling practices and customs above mentioned; deliberations that were of the utmost importance, and on which the fate and welfare of kingdoms frequently depended. But, at the same time, we must be so just as to own, that their manners customs and laws, would not permit men in these ages to dispense with the obser vation of these practices; that education, hereditary tradition transmitted from immemorial time, the universal belief and consent of different nations, the precepts and even examples of philosophers; that all these, I say, made the practices in question appear venerable in their eyes; and that these ceremonies, how absurd soever they may appear to us, and are really so in themselves, constituted part of the religion and public worship of the ancients. Their's was a false religion, and a mistaken worship; and yet the principle of it was laudable, and founded in nature; the stream was corrupted, but the fountain was pure. Man, when abandoned to his own ideas, sees nothing beyond the present moment. Futurity is to him an abyss invisible to the most eagle-eyed, the most piercing sagacity, and exhibits nothing on which he may fix his views, or form any resolution with certainty. He is equally feeble and impotent with regard to the execution of his designs. He is sensible that he is dependent entirely on a Supreme Power, that disposes all events with absolute authority, and which, in spite of his utmost efforts, and of the wisdom of the best concerted schemes, by only raising the smallest obstacles and slightest disappointments, renders it impossible for him to execute his measures. This obscurity and weakness oblige him to have recourse to a superior know ledge and power: he is forced, both by his immediate wants, and the strong desire he has to succeed in all his undertakings, to address that Being, who he is sensible has reserved to himself alone the knowledge of futurity, and the power of disposing it as he sees fitting. He accordingly directs prayers, makes vows, and offers sacrifices, to prevail, if possible with the Deity to reveal himself, either in dreams, in oracles, or other signs, which may manifest his will; fully convinced that nothing can happen but by the divine appointment, and that it is a man's greatest interest to know this supreme will, in order to con form his actions to it. This religious principle of dependence on, and veneration of, the Supreme Being, is natural to man: it is imprinted deep in his heart; he is reminded of it by the inward sense of his extreme indigence, and by all the objects which surround him; and it may be affirmed, that this perpetual recourse to the Deity is one of the principal foundations of religion, and the strongest band by which man is united to his Creator. Those who were so happy as to know the true God, and were chosen to be his peculiar people, never failed to address him in all their wants and doubts, in order to obtain his succour and the manifestation of his will. He accord ingly was so gracious as to reveal himself to them; to conduct them by apparitions, dreams, oracles, and prophecies; and to protect them by miracles of the most astonishing kind. But those who were so blind as to substitute falsehood in the place of truth, directed themselves, for the like aid, to fictitious and deceitful deities, who were not able to answer their expectations, nor recompense the homage that mortals paid them, in any other way thanby error and illusion, and a fraudulent imitation of the conduct of the true God." Hence arose the vain observation of dreams, which, from a superstitious credulity, they mistook for salutary warnings from heaven; those obscure and equivocal answers of oracles, beneath whose veil the spirits of darkness concealed their ignorance; and, by a studied ambiguity reserved to themselves an evasion or subterfuge, whatever might be the issue of the event. To this are owing the prognostics, with regard to futurity, which men fancied they should find in the entrails of beasts, in the flight and singing of birds, in the aspect of the planets, in fortuitous accidents, and in the caprice of chance; those dreadful prodigies that filled a whole nation with terror, and which, it was believed, nothing could expiate but mournful ceremonies, and even sometimes the effusion of human blood; in fine, those black inventions of magic, those delusions, enchantments, sorceries, invocations of ghosts, and many other kinds of divination. All I have here related was a received usage, observed by the heathen nations in general; and this usage was founded on the principles of that religion of which I have given a short account. We have a signal proof of this in the Cyropædia, where Cambyses, the father of Cyrus, gives that young prince stich noble instructions, instructions admirably well adapted to form the great captain, and great prince. He exhorts him above all things, to pay the highest reverence to the gods; and not to undertake any enterprise, whether important or inconsiderable, without first calling upon and consulting them; he enjoins him to honour priests and augurs, as being their ministers, and the interpreters of their will; but yet not to trust or abandon himself implicitly and blindly to them, till he had first learnt every thing relating to the science of divination, of auguries and auspices. The reason he gives for the subordination and dependence in which kings ought to live with regard to the gods, and the necessity they are under of consulting them in all things, is this: how clear sighted soever mankind may be in the ordinary course of affairs, their views are always very narrow and limited with regard to futurity; whereas the * Xenoph. in Cyrop. 1. i. p. 25, 27. 66 says Deity, at a single glance, takes in all ages and events. "As the gods," Cambyses to his son, are eternal, they know equally all things, past, present, and to come. 99 "With regard to the mortals who address them, they give salutary counsels to those whom they are pleased to favour, that they may not be ignorant of what things they ought, or ought not, to undertake. If it is observed, that the deities do not give the like counsels to all men, we are not to wonder at it, since no necessity obliges them to attend to the welfare of those persons on whom they do not vouchsafe to confer their favour." Such was the doctrine of the most learned and most enlightened nations, with respect to the different kinds of divination; and it is no wonder that the authors who wrote the history of those nations, thought it incumbent on them to give an exact detail of such particulars as constituted part of their religion and worship, and was frequently in a manner the soul of their deliberation, and the standard of their conduct. I therefore was of opinion, for the same reason, that it would not be proper for me to omit entirely, in the ensuing history, what relates to this subject, though I have, however, retrenched a great part of it. Archbishop Usher is my usual guide in chronology. In the history of the Carthaginians, I commonly set down four eras: the year from the creation of the world, which, for brevity's sake, I mark thus, A. M.; those of the foundation of Carthage and Rome; and lastly, the year that precedes the birth of our Saviour, which I suppose to be the 4004th of the world; wherein I follow Usher and others, though they suppose it to be four years earlier. To know in what manner the states and kingdoms were founded, that have divided the universe; the steps whereby they arose to that pitch of grandeur related in history; by what ties families and cities were united, in order to constitute one body or society, and to live together under the same laws and a common authority; it will be necessary to trace things back, in a manner, to the infancy of the world, and to those ages, in which mankind, being dispersed into different regions, (after the confusion of tongues,) began to people the earth. In these early ages, every father was the supreme head of his family; the arbiter and judge of whatever contests and divisions might arise within it; the natural legislator over his little society; the defender and protector of those who, by their birth, education, and weakness, were under his protection and safeguard. But although these masters enjoyed an independent authority, they made a mild and paternal use of it. So far from being jealous of their power, they neither governed with haughtiness, nor decided with tyranny. As they were obliged by necessity to associate their family in their domestic labours, they also summoned them together, and asked their opinion in matters of importance. In this manner all affairs were transacted in concert, and for the common good. The laws which paternal vigilance established in this little domestic senate, being dictated with no other view than to promote the general welfare, concerted with such children as were come to years of maturity, and accepted by the inferiors with a full and free consent, were religiously kept and preserv ed in families, as an hereditary polity, to which they owed their peace and security. But different motives gave rise to different laws. One man, overjoyed at the birth of a first-born son, resolved to distinguish him from his future children, by bestowing on him a more considerable share of his possessions, and giving him a greater authority in his family. Another, more attentive to the interest of a beloved wife, or darling daughter, whom he wanted to settle in the world, thought it incumbent on him to secure their rights and increase their advantages. The solitary and cheerless state to which a wife would be reduced, in case she should become a widow, affected more intimately another man, and made him provide beforehand for the subsistence and comfort of a woman who formed his felicity. |