No More Learning

In a familiar
discourse he had mentioned his special prerogative, that the
angel of death was not allowed to take his soul till he had re-
spectfully asked the permission of the prophet. The request was
granted; and Mahomet immediately fell into the agony of his
dissolution: his head was reclined on the lap of Ayesha, the
best beloved of all his wives; he fainted with the violence of
pain; recovering his spirits, he raised his eyes towards the roof
of the house, and with a steady look, though a faltering voice,
uttered the last broken though articulate words:-"O God! .
pardon my sins .
Yes . . I come
among my
fellow-citizens on high;" and thus peaceably expired on a car-
pet spread upon the floor. An expedition for the conquest of
Syria was stopped by this mournful event: the army halted at
the gates of Medina, the chiefs were assembled round their dying
master. The city, more especially the house, of the prophet, was
a scene of clamorous sorrow or silent despair: fanaticism alone
could suggest a ray of hope and consolation. "How can he be
dead- our witness, our intercessor, our mediator with God? By
God, he is not dead: like Moses and Jesus, he is wrapped in a
holy trance, and speedily will he return to his faithful people. "
The evidence of sense was disregarded, and Omar, unsheathing
his cimeter, threatened to strike off the heads of the infidels who
should dare to affirm that the prophet was no more. The tumult
was appeased by the weight and moderation of Abubeker. "Is it
Mahomet," said he to Omar and the multitude, "or the God of
Mahomet, whom you worship? The God of Mahomet liveth for-
ever; but the apostle was a mortal like ourselves, and according
to his own prediction, he has experienced the common fate of
mortality. " He was piously interred by the hands of his nearest
kinsman, on the same spot on which he expired. Medina has
been sanctified by the death and burial of Mahomet, and the
innumerable pilgrims of Mecca often turn aside from the way,
to bow in voluntary devotion before the simple tomb of the
prophet.
At the conclusion of the life of Mahomet it may perhaps be
expected that I should balance his faults and virtues, that I
should decide whether the title of enthusiast or impostor more
properly belongs to that extraordinary man. Had I been inti-
mately conversant with the son of Abdallah, the task would still
-


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6310
EDWARD GIBBON
be difficult and the success uncertain: at the distance of twelve
centuries, I darkly contemplate his shade through a cloud of
religious incense; and could I truly delineate the portrait of an
hour, the fleeting resemblance would not equally apply to the
solitary of Mount Hera, to the preacher of Mecca, and to the
conqueror of Arabia. The author of a mighty revolution appears
to have been endowed with a pious and contemplative disposition;
so soon as marriage had raised him above the pressure of want,
he avoided the paths of ambition and avarice; and till the age of
forty he lived with innocence, and would have died without a
name. The unity of God is an idea most congenial to nature
and reason; and a slight conversation with the Jews and Christ-
ians would teach him to despise and detest the idolatry of Mecca.
It was the duty of a man and a citizen to impart the doctrine of
salvation, to rescue his country from the dominion of sin and
error. The energy of a mind incessantly bent on the same
object would convert a general obligation into a particular call;
the warm suggestions of the understanding or the fancy would
be felt as the inspirations of Heaven; the labor of thought would
expire in rapture and vision; and the inward sensation, the invis-
ible monitor, would be described with the form and attributes of
an angel of God. From enthusiasm to imposture the step is
perilous and slippery: the dæmon of Socrates affords a memora-
ble instance how a wise man may deceive himself, how a good
man may deceive others, how the conscience may slumber in a
mixed and middle state between self-illusion and voluntary fraud.
Charity may believe that the original motives of Mahomet were
those of pure and genuine benevolence; but a human missionary
is incapable of cherishing the obstinate unbelievers who reject his
claims, despise his arguments, and persecute his life; he might
forgive his personal adversaries, he may lawfully hate the ene-
mies of God; the stern passions of pride and revenge were
kindled in the bosom of Mahomet, and he sighed, like the
prophet of Nineveh, for the destruction of the rebels whom he
had condemned. The injustice of Mecca and the choice of Me-
dina transformed the citizen into a prince, the humble preacher
into the leader of armies; but his sword was consecrated by the
example of the saints, and the same God who afflicts a sinful
world with pestilence and earthquakes might inspire for their con-
version or chastisement the valor of his servants. In the exercise
of political government, he was compelled to abate of the stern


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EDWARD GIBBON
6311
rigor of fanaticism, to comply in some measure with the preju-
dices and passions of his followers, and to employ even the vices
of mankind as the instruments of their salvation. The use of
fraud and perfidy, of cruelty and injustice, were often subservient
to the propagation of the faith; and Mahomet commanded or
approved the assassination of the Jews and idolaters who had
escaped from the field of battle. By the repetition of such acts
the character of Mahomet must have been gradually stained; and
the influence of such pernicious habits would be poorly compen-
sated by the practice of the personal and social virtues which
are necessary to maintain the reputation of a prophet among his
sectaries and friends. Of his last years, ambition was the ruling
passion; and a politician will suspect that he secretly smiled (the
victorious impostor! ) at the enthusiasm of his youth and the
credulity of his proselytes. A philosopher will observe that their
credulity and his success would tend more strongly to fortify the
assurance of his Divine mission; that his interest and religion were
inseparately connected; and that his conscience would be soothed
by the persuasion that he alone was absolved by the Deity from
the obligation of positive and moral laws. If he retained any
vestige of his native innocence, the sins of Mahomet may be
allowed as an evidence of his sincerity. In the support of truth,
the arts of fraud and fiction may be deemed less criminal; and he
would have started at the foulness of the means, had he not
been satisfied of the importance and justice of the end. Even in
a conqueror or a priest, I can surprise a word or action of un-
affected humanity; and the decree of Mahomet that in the sale.
of captives the mothers should never be separated from their
children, may suspend or moderate the censure of the historian.
The good sense of Mahomet despised the pomp of royalty; the
apostle of God submitted to the menial offices of the family; he
kindled the fire, swept the floor, milked the ewes, and mended
with his own hands his shoes and his woolen garment. Disdain-
ing the penance and merit of a hermit, he observed, without
effort or vanity, the abstemious diet of an Arab and a soldier.
On solemn occasions he feasted his companions with rustic and
hospitable plenty; but in his domestic life, many weeks would
elapse without a fire being kindled on the hearth of the prophet.
The interdiction of wine was confirmed by his example; his hun-
ger was appeased with a sparing allowance of barley bread; he
delighted in the taste of milk and honey, but his ordinary food


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6312
EDWARD GIBBON
consisted of dates and water. Perfumes and women were the two
sensual enjoyments which his nature required and his religion
did not forbid; and Mahomet affirmed that the fervor of his
devotion was increased by these innocent pleasures. The heat of
the climate inflames the blood of the Arabs, and their libidinous
complexion has been noticed by the writers of antiquity. Their
incontinence was regulated by the civil and religious laws of the
Koran; their incestuous alliances were blamed; the boundless
license of polygamy was reduced to four legitimate wives or
concubines: their rights both of bed and of dowry were equita-
bly determined; the freedom of divorce was discouraged; adul-
tery was condemned as a capital offense; and fornication in
either sex was punished with a hundred stripes. Such were the
calm and rational precepts of the legislator, but in his private
conduct Mahomet indulged the appetites of a man and abused
the claims of a prophet. A special revelation dispensed him from
the laws which he had imposed on his nation: the female sex,
without reserve, was abandoned to his desires; and this singular
prerogative excited the envy rather than the scandal, the ven-
eration rather than the envy, of the devout Mussulmans. If we
remember the seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines
of the wise Solomon, we shall applaud the modesty of the Ara-
bian, who espoused no more than seventeen or fifteen wives;
eleven are enumerated, who occupied at Medina their separate
apartments round the house of the apostle, and enjoyed in their
turns the favor of his conjugal society. What is singular enough,
they were all widows, excepting only Ayesha, the daughter of
Abubeker. She was doubtless a virgin, since Mahomet consum-
mated his nuptials (such is the premature ripeness of the climate)
when she was only nine years of age. The youth, the beauty,
the spirit of Ayesha gave her a superior ascendant; she was
beloved and trusted by the prophet, and after his death the
daughter of Abubeker was long revered as the mother of the
faithful. Her behavior had been ambiguous and indiscreet; in a
nocturnal march she was accidentally left behind, and in the
morning Ayesha returned to the camp with a man.
The temper
of Mahomet was inclined to jealousy; but a Divine revelation
assured him of her innocence: he chastised her accusers, and
published a law of domestic peace, that no woman should be
condemned unless four male witnesses had seen her in the act of
adultery. In his adventures with Zeineb the wife of Zeid, and


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EDWARD GIBBON
6313
with Mary, an Egyptian captive, the amorous prophet forgot the
interest of his reputation. At the house of Zeid, his freedman
and adopted son, he beheld in a loose undress the beauty of
Zeineb, and burst forth into an ejaculation of devotion and desire.
The servile, or grateful, freedman understood the hint, and
yielded without hesitation to the love of his benefactor. But as
the filial relation had excited some doubt and scandal, the angel
Gabriel descended from heaven to ratify the deed, to annul the
adoption, and gently to reprove the apostle for distrusting the
indulgence of his God. One of his wives, Hafna the daughter
of Omar, surprised him on her own bed, in the embraces of his
Egyptian captive: she promised secrecy and forgiveness; he swore
that he would renounce the possession of Mary. Both parties
forgot their engagements; and Gabriel again descended with a
chapter of the Koran, to absolve him from his oath and to
exhort him freely to enjoy his captives and concubines, without
listening to the clamors of his wives. In a solitary retreat of
thirty days, he labored, alone with Mary, to fulfill the commands.
of the angel. When his love and revenge were satiated, he sum-
moned to his presence his eleven wives, reproached their diso-
bedience and indiscretion, and threatened them with a sentence
of divorce, both in this world and in the next; a dreadful sen-
tence, since those who had ascended the bed of the prophet
were forever excluded from the hope of a second marriage. Per-
haps the incontinence of Mahomet may be palliated by the tradi-
tion of his natural or preternatural gifts; he united the manly
virtue of thirty of the children of Adam; and the apostle might
rival the thirteenth labor of the Grecian Hercules. A more
serious and decent excuse may be drawn from his fidelity to
Cadijah. During the twenty-four years of their marriage, her
youthful husband abstained from the right of polygamy, and the
pride or tenderness of the venerable matron was never insulted
by the society of a rival. After her death he placed her in the
rank of the four perfect women, with the sister of Moses, the
mother of Jesus, and Fatima, the best beloved of his daughters.
"Was she not old? " said Ayesha, with the insolence of a bloom-
ing beauty: "has not God given you a better in her place? »
"No, by God," said Mahomet, with an effusion of honest grati-
tude, "there never can be a better! She believed in me when
men despised me; she relieved my wants when I was poor and
persecuted by the world. "


## p. 6314 (#288) ###########################################

6314
EDWARD GIBBON
THE ALEXANDRIAN LIBRARY
I
SHOULD deceive the expectation of the reader if I passed in
silence the fate of the Alexandrian library as it is described
by the learned Abulpharagius. The spirit of Amrou was
more curious and liberal than that of his brethren, and in his
leisure hours the Arabian chief was pleased with the conversa-
tion of John, the last disciple of Ammonius, and who derived the
surname of Philoponus from his laborious studies of grammar and
philosophy. Emboldened by this familiar intercourse, Philoponus
presumed to solicit a gift, inestimable in his opinion, contempti-
ble in that of the Barbarians the royal library, which alone
among the spoils of Alexandria had not been appropriated by
the visit and the seal of the conqueror. Amrou was inclined to
gratify the wish of the grammarian, but his rigid integrity re-
fused to alienate the minutest object without the consent of the
caliph; and the well-known answer of Omar was inspired by the
ignorance of a fanatic: "If these writings of the Greeks agree
with the book of God, they are useless, and need not be pre-
served; if they disagree, they are pernicious, and ought to be
destroyed. " The sentence was executed with blind obedience,
the volumes of paper or parchment were distributed to the four
thousand baths of the city; and such was their incredible multi-
tude, that six months were barely sufficient for the consumption
of this precious fuel. Since the Dynasties of Abulpharagius have
been given to the world in a Latin version, the tale has been
repeatedly transcribed; and every scholar, with pious indignation,
has deplored the irreparable shipwreck of the learning, the arts,
and the genius, of antiquity. For my own part, I am strongly
tempted to deny both the fact and the consequences. The fact
is indeed marvelous. "Read and wonder! " says the historian
himself; and the solitary report of a stranger who wrote at the
end of six hundred years on the confines of Media is overbal-
anced by the silence of two annalists of a more early date, both
Christians, both natives of Egypt, and the most ancient of whom,
the patriarch Eutychius, has amply described the conquest of
Alexandria. The rigid sentence of Omar is repugnant to the
sound and orthodox precept of the Mahometan casuists: they
expressly declare that the religious books of the Jews and Christ-
ians which are acquired by the right of war should never be


## p. 6315 (#289) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6315
committed to the flames; and that the works of profane science,
historians or poets, physicians or philosophers, may be lawfully
applied to the use of the faithful. A more destructive zeal may
perhaps be attributed to the first successors of Mahomet; yet in
this instance, the conflagration would have speedily expired in
the deficiency of materials. I shall not recapitulate the disasters
of the Alexandrian library, the involuntary flame that was kin-
dled by Cæsar in his own defense, or the mischievous bigotry of
the Christians, who studied to destroy the monuments of idolatry.
But if we gradually descend from the age of the Antonines to
that of Theodosius, we shall learn from a chain of contemporary
witnesses that the royal palace and the temple of Serapis no
longer contained the four, or the seven, hundred thousand vol-
umes which had been assembled by the curiosity and magnifi-
cence of the Ptolemies. Perhaps the church and seat of the
patriarchs might be enriched with a repository of books; but if
the ponderous mass of Arian and Monophysite controversy were
indeed consumed in the public baths, a philosopher may allow,
with a smile, that it was ultimately devoted to the benefit of man-
kind. I sincerely regret the more valuable libraries which have
been involved in the ruin of the Roman Empire; but when I seri-
ously compute the lapse of ages, the waste of ignorance, and the
calamities of war, our treasures, rather than our losses, are the
objects of my surprise. Many curious and interesting facts are
buried in oblivion; the three great historians of Rome have been
transmitted to our hands in a mutilated state, and we are de-
prived of many pleasing compositions of the lyric, iambic, and
dramatic poetry of the Greeks. Yet we should gratefully remem-
ber that the mischances of time and accident have spared the
classic works to which the suffrage of antiquity had adjudged
the first place of genius and glory; the teachers of ancient knowl-
edge who are still extant had perused and compared the writ-
ings of their predecessors; nor can it fairly be presumed that
any important truth, any useful discovery in art or nature, has
been snatched away from the curiosity of modern ages.


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6316
EDWARD GIBBON
THE FINAL RUIN OF ROME
IN
THE last days of Pope Eugenius the Fourth, two of his serv-
ants, the learned Poggius and a friend, ascended the Capito-
line Hill, reposed themselves among the ruins of columns and
temples, and viewed from that commanding spot the wide and
various prospect of desolation. The place and the object gave
ample scope for moralizing on the vicissitudes of fortune, which
spares neither man nor the proudest of his works, which buries
empires and cities in a common grave; and it was agreed that in
proportion to her former greatness the fall of Rome was the more
awful and deplorable. "Her primeval state, such as she might
appear in a remote age, when Evander entertained the stranger
of Troy, has been delineated by the fancy of Virgil. This Tar-
peian Rock was then a savage and solitary thicket; in the time of
the poet it was crowned with the golden roofs of a temple; the
temple is overthrown, the gold has been pillaged, the wheel of
fortune has accomplished her revolution, and the sacred ground
is again disfigured with thorns and brambles. The hill of the
Capitol, on which we sit, was formerly the head of the Roman
Empire, the citadel of the earth, the terror of kings; illustrated
by the footsteps of so many triumphs, enriched with the spoils
and tributes of so many nations. This spectacle of the world,
how is it fallen! how changed! how defaced! The path of vic-
tory is obliterated by vines, and the benches of the senators are
concealed by a dunghill. Cast your eyes on the Palatine Hill, and
seek among the shapeless and enormous fragments the marble
theatre, the obelisks, the colossal statues, the porticos of Nero's
palace; survey the other hills of the city,—the vacant space is in-
terrupted only by ruins and gardens. The Forum of the Roman
people, where they assembled to enact their laws and elect their
magistrates, is now inclosed for the cultivation of pot-herbs, or
thrown open for the reception of swine and buffaloes. The pub-
lic and private edifices that were founded for eternity lie pros-
trate, naked, and broken, like the limbs of a mighty giant; and
the ruin is the more visible, from the stupendous relics that have
survived the injuries of time and fortune. "
These relics are minutely described by Poggius, one of the
first who raised his eyes from the monuments of legendary to
those of classic superstition. 1. Besides a bridge, an arch, a


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EDWARD GIBBON
6317
sepulchre, and the pyramid of Cestius, he could discern, of the
age of the republic, a double row of vaults in the salt office
of the Capitol, which were inscribed with the name and mu-
nificence of Catulus. 2. Eleven temples were visible in some
degree, from the perfect form of the Pantheon to the three arches.
and a marble column of the temple of Peace which Vespasian
erected after the civil wars and the Jewish triumph. 3. Of the
number which he rashly defines, of seven therma, or public
baths, none were sufficiently entire to represent the use and dis-
tribution of the several parts; but those of Diocletian and An-
toninus Caracalla still retained the titles of the founders and
astonished the curious spectator who in observing their solidity
and extent, the variety of marbles, the size and multitude of the
columns, compared the labor and expense with the use and im-
portance. Of the baths of Constantine, of Alexander, of Domi-
tian, or rather of Titus, some vestige might yet be found. 4. The
triumphal arches of Titus, Severus, and Constantine were entire,
both the structure and the inscriptions; a falling fragment was
honored with the name of Trajan; and two arches then extant
in the Flaminian Way have been ascribed to the baser memory
of Faustina and Gallienus. 5. After the wonder of the Coliseum,
Poggius might have overlooked a small amphitheatre of brick,
most probably for the use of the prætorian camp; the theatres of
Marcellus and Pompey were occupied in a great measure by pub-
lic and private buildings; and in the Circus, Agonalis and Max-
imus, little more than the situation and the form could be
investigated. 6. The columns of Trajan and Antonine were still
erect; but the Egyptian obelisks were broken or buried. A peo-
ple of gods and heroes, the workmanship of art, was reduced to
one equestrian figure of gilt brass and to five marble statues, of
which the most conspicuous were the two horses of Phidias and
Praxiteles. 7. The two mausoleums or sepulchres of Augustus
and Hadrian could not totally be lost; but the former was only
visible as a mound of earth, and the latter, the castle of St.
Angelo, had acquired the name and appearance of a modern for-
tress. With the addition of some separate and nameless columns,
such were the remains of the ancient city; for the marks of a
more recent structure might be detected in the walls, which
formed a circumference of ten miles, included three hundred and
seventy-nine turrets, and opened into the country by thirteen
gates.


## p. 6318 (#292) ###########################################

6318
EDWARD GIBBON
This melancholy picture was drawn above nine hundred years
after the fall of the Western Empire, and even of the Gothic
kingdom of Italy. A long period of distress and anarchy, in
which empire, and arts, and riches had migrated from the banks.
of the Tiber, was incapable of restoring or adorning the city;
and as all that is human must retrograde if it do not advance,
every successive age must have hastened the ruin of the works
of antiquity. To measure the progress of decay, and to ascer-
tain, at each era, the state of each edifice, would be an endless
and a useless labor; and I shall content myself with two obser-
vations which will introduce a short inquiry into the general
causes and effects. 1. Two hundred years before the eloquent
complaint of Poggius, an anonymous writer composed a descrip-
tion of Rome. His ignorance may repeat the same objects under
strange and fabulous names. Yet this barbarous topographer had
eyes and ears; he could observe the visible remains; he could
listen to the tradition of the people; and he distinctly enumerates
seven theatres, eleven baths, twelve arches, and eighteen palaces,
of which many had disappeared before the time of Poggius. It
is apparent that many stately monuments of antiquity survived
till a late period, and that the principles of destruction acted
with vigorous and increasing energy in the thirteenth and four-
teenth centuries. 2. The same reflection must be applied to the
three last ages; and we should vainly seek the Septizonium of
Severus, which is celebrated by Petrarch and the antiquarians
of the sixteenth century. While the Roman edifices were still
entire, the first blows, however weighty and impetuous, were re-
sisted by the solidity of the mass and the harmony of the parts;
but the slightest touch would precipitate the fragments of arches
and columns that already nodded to their fall.
After a diligent inquiry, I can discern four principal causes
of the ruin of Rome, which continued to operate in a period of
more than a thousand years. I. The injuries of time and nature.
II. The hostile attacks of the Barbarians and Christians. III.
The use and abuse of the materials. And IV. The domestic
quarrels of the Romans.
I. The art of man is able to construct monuments far more
permanent than the narrow span of his own existence; yet these
monuments, like himself, are perishable and frail; and in the
boundless annals of time his life and his labors must equally be
measured as a fleeting moment. Of a simple and solid edifice it


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EDWARD GIBBON
6319
is not easy, however, to circumscribe the duration. As the won-
ders of ancient days, the Pyramids attracted the curiosity of the
ancients: a hundred generations, the leaves of autumn, have
dropped into the grave; and after the fall of the Pharaohs and
Ptolemies, the Cæsars and caliphs, the same Pyramids stand erect
and unshaken above the floods of the Nile. A complex figure of
various and minute parts is more accessible to injury and decay;
and the silent lapse of time is often accelerated by hurricanes
and earthquakes, by fires and inundations. The air and earth
have doubtless been shaken, and the lofty turrets of Rome have
tottered from their foundations, but the seven hills do not appear
to be placed on the great cavities of the globe; nor has the city
in any age been exposed to the convulsions of nature which in
the climate of Antioch, Lisbon, or Lima, have crumbled in a few
moments the works of ages in the dust. Fire is the most power-
ful agent of life and death: the rapid mischief may be kindled
and propagated by the industry or negligence of mankind; and
every period of the Roman annals is marked by the repetition of
similar calamities. A memorable conflagration, the guilt or mis-
fortune of Nero's reign, continued, though with unequal fury,
either six or nine days. Innumerable buildings, crowded in close
and crooked streets, supplied perpetual fuel for the flames; and
when they ceased, four only of the fourteen regions were left
entire; three were totally destroyed, and seven were deformed by
the relics of smoking and lacerated edifices. In the full meridian
of empire, the metropolis arose with fresh beauty from her ashes;
yet the memory of the old deplored the irreparable losses, the
arts of Greece, the trophies of victory, the monuments of primi-
tive or fabulous antiquity. In the days of distress and anarchy
every wound is mortal, every fall irretrievable; nor can the dam-
age be restored either by the public care of government or the
activity of private interest. Yet two causes may be alleged, which
render the calamity of fire more destructive to a flourishing than
a decayed city. 1. The more combustible materials of brick,
timber, and metals are first melted and consumed, but the
flames may play without injury or effect on the naked walls and
massy arches that have been despoiled of their ornaments.
2. It
is among the common and plebeian habitations that a mischiev-
ous spark is most easily blown to a conflagration; but as soon as
they are devoured, the greater edifices which have resisted or
escaped are left as so many islands in a state of solitude and


## p. 6320 (#294) ###########################################

6320
EDWARD GIBBON
safety. From her situation, Rome is exposed to the danger of
frequent inundations. Without excepting the Tiber, the rivers
that descend from either side of the Apennine have a short and
irregular course; a shallow stream in the summer heats; an im-
petuous torrent when it is swelled in the spring or winter by
the fall of rain and the melting of the snows. When the current
is repelled from the sea by adverse winds, when the ordinary bed
is inadequate to the weight of waters, they rise above the banks
and overspread without limits or control the plains and cities of
the adjacent country. Soon after the triumph of the first Punic
War, the Tiber was increased by unusual rains; and the inunda-
tion, surpassing all former measure of time and place, destroyed
all the buildings that were situate below the hills of Rome.
According to the variety of ground, the same mischief was
produced by different means; and the edifices were either swept
away by the sudden impulse, or dissolved and undermined by
the long continuance of the flood. Under the reign of Augustus
the same calamity was renewed: the lawless river overturned the
palaces and temples on its banks; and after the labors of the
Emperor in cleansing and widening the bed that was incumbered
with ruins, the vigilance of his successors was exercised by sim-
ilar dangers and designs. The project of diverting into new
channels the Tiber itself, or some of the dependent streams, was
long opposed by superstition and local interests; nor did the use
compensate the toil and costs of the tardy and imperfect execu-
tion. The servitude of rivers is the noblest and most important
victory which man has obtained over the licentiousness of nature;
and if such were the ravages of the Tiber under a firm and ac-
tive government, what could oppose, or who can enumerate, the
injuries of the city after the fall of the Western Empire? A
remedy was at length produced by the evil itself: the accumula-
tion of rubbish and the earth that has been washed down from
the hills is supposed to have elevated the plain of Rome four-
teen or fifteen feet perhaps above the ancient level: and the
modern city is less accessible to the attacks of the river.
II. The crowd of writers of every nation who impute the
destruction of the Roman monuments to the Goths and the
Christians, have neglected to inquire how far they were animated
by a hostile principle, and how far they possessed the means and
the leisure to satiate their enmity. In the preceding volumes
of this history I have described the triumph of barbarism and


## p. 6321 (#295) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6321
religion; and I can only resume in a few words their real or
imaginary connection with the ruin of ancient Rome. Our fancy
may create or adopt a pleasing romance: that the Goths and
Vandals sallied from Scandinavia, ardent to avenge the flight of
Odin, to break the chains and to chastise the oppressors of man-
kind; that they wished to burn the records of classic literature,
and to found their national architecture on the broken members
of the Tuscan and Corinthian orders. But in simple truth, the
Northern conquerors were neither sufficiently savage nor suffi-
ciently refined to entertain such aspiring ideas of destruction and
revenge. The shepherds of Scythia and Germany had been edu-
cated in the armies of the Empire, whose discipline they acquired
and whose weakness they invaded; with the familiar use of the
Latin tongue, they had learned to reverence the name and titles
of Rome; and though incapable of emulating, they were more
inclined to admire than to abolish the arts and studies of a
brighter period. In the transient possession of a rich and un-
resisting capital, the soldiers of Alaric and Genseric were stim-
ulated by the passions of a victorious army; amidst the wanton
indulgence of lust or cruelty, portable wealth was the object of
their search; nor could they derive either pride or pleasure from
the unprofitable reflection that they had battered to the ground
the works of the consuls and Cæsars. Their moments were
indeed precious: the Goths evacuated Rome on the sixth, the
Vandals on the fifteenth day, and though it be far more difficult
to build than to destroy, their hasty assault would have made
a slight impression on the solid piles of antiquity. We may
remember that both Alaric and Genseric affected to spare the
buildings of the city; that they subsisted in strength and beauty
under the auspicious government of Theodoric; and that the mo-
mentary resentment of Totila was disarmed by his own temper
and the advice of his friends and enemies. From these innocent
Barbarians the reproach may be transferred to the Catholics of
Rome. The statues, altars, and houses of the dæmons were an
abomination in their eyes; and in the absolute command of the
city, they might labor with zeal and perseverance to erase the
idolatry of their ancestors. The demolition of the temples in
the East affords to them an example of conduct, and to us an
argument of belief; and it is probable that a portion of guilt or
merit may be imputed with justice to the Roman proselytes. Yet
their abhorrence was confined to the monuments of heathen
XI-396


## p. 6322 (#296) ###########################################

6322
EDWARD GIBBON
superstition; and the civil structures that were dedicated to
the business or pleasure of society might be preserved without
injury or scandal. The change of religion was accomplished
not by a popular tumult, but by the decrees of the emperors, of
the Senate, and of time. Of the Christian hierarchy, the bishops
of Rome were commonly the most prudent and least fanatic;
nor can any positive charge be opposed to the meritorious act
of saving and converting the majestic structure of the Pantheon.
III. The value of any object that supplies the wants or pleas-
ures of mankind is compounded of its substance and its form, of
the materials and the manufacture. Its price must depend on
the number of persons by whom it may be acquired and used;
on the extent of the market; and consequently on the ease or
difficulty of remote exportation according to the nature of the
commodity, its local situation, and the temporary circumstances
of the world. The Barbarian conquerors of Rome usurped in a
moment the toil and treasure of successive ages; but except the
luxuries of immediate consumption, they must view without
desire all that could not be removed from the city in the Gothic
wagons or the fleet of the Vandals. Gold and silver were the
first objects of their avarice; as in every country, and in the
smallest compass, they represent the most ample command of
the industry and possessions of mankind. A vase or a statue of
those precious metals might tempt the vanity of some Barbarian
chief; but the grosser multitude, regardless of the form, was
tenacious only of the substance; and the melted ingots might be
readily divided and stamped into the current coin of the empire.
The less active or less fortunate robbers were reduced to the
baser plunder of brass, lead, iron, and copper: whatever had
escaped the Goths and Vandals was pillaged by the Greek tyrants;
and the Emperor Constans in his rapacious visit stripped the
bronze tiles from the roof of the Pantheon. The edifices of
Rome might be considered as a vast and various mine: the first
labor of extracting the materials was already performed; the
metals were purified and cast; the marbles were hewn and pol-
ished; and after foreign and domestic rapine had been satiated,
the remains of the city, could a purchaser have been found, were
still venal.
The monuments of antiquity had been left naked of
their precious ornaments; but the Romans would demolish with
their own hands the arches and walls, if the hope of profit could
surpass the cost of the labor and exportation. If Charlemagne


## p. 6323 (#297) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6323
had fixed in Italy the seat of the Western Empire, his genius
would have aspired to restore, rather than to violate, the works
of the Cæsars: but policy confined the French monarch to the
forests of Germany; his taste could be gratified only by de-
struction; and the new palace of Aix-la-Chapelle was decorated
with the marbles of Ravenna and Rome. Five hundred years
after Charlemagne, a king of Sicily, Robert,—the wisest and
most liberal sovereign of the age,- was supplied with the same
materials by the easy navigation of the Tiber and the sea; and
Petrarch sighs an indignant complaint that the ancient capital of
the world should adorn from her own bowels the slothful luxury
of Naples. But these examples of plunder or purchase were rare
in the darker ages; and the Romans, alone and unenvied, might
have applied to their private or public use the remaining struct-
ures of antiquity, if in their present form and situation they had
not been useless in a great measure to the city and its inhab-
Cants. The walls still described the old circumference, but the
the
tury
beer
wors
the
a
b
CI
ity had descended from the seven hills into the Campus Martius;
2 some of the noblest monuments which had braved the inju-
res of time were left in a desert, far remote from the habita-
tions of mankind. The palaces of the senators were no longer
adapted to the manners or fortunes of their indigent successors:
use of baths and porticos was forgotten; in the sixth cen-
the games of the theatre, amphitheatre, and circus had
interrupted; some temples were devoted to the prevailing
ip, but the Christian churches preferred the holy figure of
oss; and fashion, or reason, had distributed after a peculiar
the cells and offices of the cloister. Under the ecclesiastical
the number of these pious foundations was enormously
multiplied; and the city was crowded with forty monasteries of
men, twenty of women, and sixty chapters and colleges of canons
and priests, who aggravated instead of relieving the depopula-
tion of the tenth century. But if the forms of ancient archi-
were disregarded by a people insensible of their use
and beauty, the plentiful materials were applied to every call of
necessity or superstition; till the fairest columns of the Ionic and
Corinthian orders, the richest marbles of Paros and Numidia,
were degraded, perhaps to the support of a convent or a stable.
The daily havoc which is perpetrated by the Turks in the cities
of Greece and Asia may afford a melancholy example; and in the
gradual destruction of the monuments of Rome, Sixtus the Fifth
tecture
model
reign,


## p. 6324 (#298) ###########################################

6324
EDWARD GIBBON
may alone be excused for employing the stones of the Septizonium
in the glorious edifice of St. Peter's. A fragment, a ruin, how-
soever mangled or profaned, may be viewed with pleasure and
regret; but the greater part of the marble was deprived of sub-
stance, as well as of place and proportion: it was burnt to lime
for the purpose of cement. Since the arrival of Poggius, the
temple of Concord and many capital structures had vanished.
from his eyes; and an epigram of the same age expresses a just
and pious fear that the continuance of this practice would finally
annihilate all the monuments of antiquity. The smallness of their
numbers was the sole check on the demands and depredations of
the Romans. The imagination of Petrarch might create the
presence of a mighty people; and I hesitate to believe that
even in the fourteenth century they could be reduced to a con-
temptible list of thirty-three thousand inhabitants. From that
period to the reign of Leo the Tenth, if they multiplied to the
amount of eighty-five thousand, the increase of citizens was in
some degree pernicious to the ancient city.
IV. I have reserved for the last, the most potent and forcible
cause of destruction, the domestic hostilities of the Romans them-
selves. Under the dominion of the Greek and French emperors,
the peace of the city was disturbed by accidental though fre-
quent seditions: it is from the decline of the latter, from the
beginning of the tenth century, that we may date the licentious-
ness of private war, which violated with impunity the laws of
the Code and the gospel, without respecting the majesty of the
absent sovereign or the presence and person of the vicar of
Christ. In a dark period of five hundred years, Rome was per-
petually afflicted by the sanguinary quarrels of the nobles and the
people, the Guelphs and Ghibelines, the Colonna and Ursini; and
if much has escaped the knowledge, and much is unworthy of
the notice, of history, I have exposed in the two preceding chap-
ters the causes and effects of the public disorders. At such a
time, when every quarrel was decided by the sword and none
could trust their lives or properties to the impotence of law, the
powerful citizens were armed for safety, or offense, against the
domestic enemies whom they feared or hated. Except Venice
alone, the same dangers and designs were common to all the
free republics of Italy; and the nobles usurped the prerogative
of fortifying their houses and erecting strong towers that were
capable of resisting a sudden attack. The cities were filled with


## p. 6325 (#299) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6325
these hostile edifices; and the example of Lucca, which contained
three hundred towers, her law which confined their height to
the measure of fourscore feet, may be extended with suitable lati-
tude to the more opulent and populous States. The first step of
the senator Brancaleone in the establishment of peace and just-
ice, was to demolish (as we have already seen) one hundred and
forty of the towers of Rome; and in the last days of anarchy
and discord, as late as the reign of Martin the Fifth, forty-four
still stood in one of the thirteen or fourteen regions of the city.
To this mischievous purpose the remains of antiquity were most
readily adapted: the temples and arches afforded a broad and
solid basis for the new structures of brick and stone; and we can
name the modern turrets that were raised on the triumphal monu-
ments of Julius Cæsar, Titus, and the Antonines. With some slight
alterations, a theatre, an amphitheatre, a mausoleum, was trans-
formed into a strong and spacious citadel. I need not repeat
that the mole of Adrian has assumed the title and form of the
castle of St. Angelo; the Septizonium of Severus was capable of
standing against a royal army; the sepulchre of Metella has sunk
under its outworks; the theatres of Pompey and Marcellus were
occupied by the Savelli and Ursini families; and the rough fort-
ress has been gradually softened to the splendor and elegance of
an Italian palace. Even the churches were encompassed with
arms and bulwarks, and the military engines on the roof of St.
Peter's were the terror of the Vatican and the scandal of the
Christian world. Whatever is fortified will be attacked; and
whatever is attacked may be destroyed. Could the Romans
have wrested from the popes the castle of St. Angelo, they had
resolved by a public decree to annihilate that monument of servi-
tude. Every building of defense was exposed to a siege; and in
every siege the arts and engines of destruction were laboriously
employed. After the death of Nicholas the Fourth, Rome, with-
out a sovereign or a senate, was abandoned six months to the
fury of civil war. "The houses," says a cardinal and poet of the
times, «< were crushed by the weight and velocity of enormous
stones; the walls were perforated by the strokes of the battering-
ram; the towers were involved in fire and smoke; and the
assailants were stimulated by rapine and revenge. " The work
was consummated by the tyranny of the laws; and the factions
of Italy alternately exercised a blind and thoughtless vengeance
on their adversaries, whose houses and castles they razed to the


## p. 6326 (#300) ###########################################

6326
EDWARD GIBBON
ground. In comparing the days of foreign, with the ages of
domestic hostility, we must pronounce that the latter have been
far more ruinous to the city; and our opinion is confirmed by
the evidence of Petrarch. "Behold, " says the laureate, "the
relics of Rome, the image of her pristine greatness! neither time
nor the Barbarian can boast the merit of this stupendous destruc-
tion: it was perpetrated by her own citizens, by the most illus-
trious of her sons; and your ancestors [he writes to a noble
Annibaldi] have done with battering-ram what the Punic hero
could not accomplish with the sword. " The influence of the two
last principles of decay must in some degree be multiplied by
each other, since the houses and towers which were subverted
by civil war required a new and perpetual supply from the mon-
uments of antiquity.
These general observations may be separately applied to the
amphitheatre of Titus, which has obtained the name of the Coli-
seum, either from its magnitude or from Nero's colossal statue;
an edifice, had it been left to time and nature, which might per-
haps have claimed an eternal duration. The curious antiqua-
ries who have computed the numbers and seats are disposed to
believe that above the upper row of stone steps the amphitheatre
was encircled and elevated with several stages of wooden galler-
ies, which were repeatedly consumed by fire, and restored by the
emperors. Whatever was precious, or portable, or profane, the
statues of gods and heroes, and the costly ornaments of sculpture
which were cast in brass or overspread with leaves of silver
and gold, became the first prey of conquest or fanaticism, of the
avarice of the Barbarians or the Christians. In the massy stones
of the Coliseum, many holes are discerned; and the two most
probable conjectures represent the various accidents of its decay.
These stones were connected by solid links of brass or iron, nor
had the eye of rapine overlooked the value of the baser metals;
the vacant space was converted into a fair or market; the arti-
sans of the Coliseum are mentioned in an ancient survey; and
the chasms were perforated or enlarged to receive the poles that
supported the shops or tents of the mechanic trades. Reduced to
its naked majesty, the Flavian amphitheatre was contemplated
with awe and admiration by the pilgrims of the North; and their
rude enthusiasm broke forth in a sublime proverbial expression,
which is recorded in the eighth century, in the fragments of the
venerable Bede: "As long as the Coliseum stands, Rome shall


## p. 6327 (#301) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6327
டயம்
stand; when the Coliseum falls, Rome will fall; when Rome
falls, the world will fall. " In the modern system of war a situ-
ation commanded by the three hills would not be chosen for a
fortress: but the strength of the walls and arches could resist
the engines of assault; a numerous garrison might be lodged in
the inclosure; and while one faction occupied the Vatican and
the Capitol, the other was intrenched in the Lateran and the
Coliseum.
The abolition at Rome of the ancient games must be under-
stood with some latitude; and the carnival sports of the Testa-
cean Mount and the Circus Agonalis were regulated by the law
or custom of the city. The senator presided with dignity and
pomp to adjudge and distribute the prizes, the gold ring, or the
pallium, as it was styled, of cloth or silk. A tribute on the
Jews supplied the annual expense; and the races on foot, on
horseback, or in chariots, were ennobled by a tilt and tourna-
ment of seventy-two of the Roman youth. In the year 1332 a bull-
feast, after the fashion of the Moors and Spaniards, was celebrated
in the Coliseum itself; and the living manners are painted in a
diary of the times. A convenient order of benches was restored,
and a general proclamation as far as Rimini and Ravenna invited
the nobles to exercise their skill and courage in this perilous ad-
venture. The Roman ladies were marshaled in three squadrons
and seated in three balconies, which on this day, the third of Sep-
tember, were lined with scarlet cloth. The fair Jacova di Rovere
led the matrons from beyond the Tiber, a pure and native race
who still represent the features and character of antiquity. The
remainder of the city was divided as usual between the Colonna
and Ursini: the two factions were proud of the number and
beauty of their female bands: the charms of Savella Ursini are
mentioned with praise, and the Colonna regretted the absence of
the youngest of their house, who had sprained her ankle in the
garden of Nero's tower. The lots of the champions were drawn
by an old and respectable citizen; and they descended into the
arena, or pit, to encounter the wild bulls, on foot as it should
seem, with a single spear. Amidst the crowd, our annalist has
selected the names, colors, and devices of twenty of the most
conspicuous knights. Several of the names are the most illus-
trious of Rome and the ecclesiastical State: Malatesta, Polenta,
Della Valle, Cafarello, Savelli, Capoccio, Conti, Annibaldi, Altieri,
Corsi: the colors were adapted to their taste and situation; the
I
B


## p. 6328 (#302) ###########################################

6330
EDWARD GIBBON
heavens, the bell rang, the prophet of the Capitol reported the
prodigy, and the Senate was admonished of the impending dan-
ger. " A second example, of less importance though of equal
absurdity, may be drawn from the two marble horses, led by two
naked youths, which have since been transported from the baths
of Constantine to the Quirinal Hill. The groundless application
of the names of Phidias and Praxiteles may perhaps be excused:
but these Grecian sculptors should not have been removed above
four hundred years from the age of Pericles to that of Tiberius;
they should not have been transformed into two philosophers or
magicians, whose nakedness was the symbol of truth or knowl-
edge, who revealed to the Emperor his most secret actions, and
after refusing all pecuniary recompense, solicited the honor of
leaving this eternal monument of themselves. Thus, awake to
the power of magic, the Romans were insensible to the beauties
of art: no more than five statues were visible to the eyes of
Poggius; and of the multitudes which chance or design had
buried under the ruins, the resurrection was fortunately delayed
till a safer and more enlightened age. The Nile, which now
adorns the Vatican, had been explored by some laborers in dig-
ging a vineyard near the temple, or convent, of the Minerva: but
the impatient proprietor, who was tormented by some visits of
curiosity, restored the unprofitable marble to its former grave.
The discovery of the statue of Pompey, ten feet in length, was
the occasion of a lawsuit. It had been found under a partition
wall: the equitable judge had pronounced that the head should
be separated from the body to satisfy the claims of the contig-
uous owners; and the sentence would have been executed if
the intercession of a cardinal and the liberality of a pope had not
rescued the Roman hero from the hands of his barbarous coun-
trymen.
But the clouds of barbarism were gradually dispelled, and the
peaceful authority of Martin the Fifth and his successors restored
the ornaments of the city as well as the order of the ecclesias-
tical State. The improvements of Rome since the fifteenth cen-
tury have not been the spontaneous produce of freedom and
industry. The first and most natural root of a great city is the
labor and populousness of the adjacent country, which supplies
the materials of subsistence, of manufactures, and of foreign trade.
But the greater part of the Campagna of Rome is reduced to a
dreary and desolate wilderness; the overgrown estates of the


## p. 6329 (#303) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6331
princes and the clergy are cultivated by the lazy hands of indi-
gent and hopeless vassals; and the scanty harvests are confined
or exported for the benefit of a monopoly. A second and more
artificial cause of the growth of a metropolis is the residence of
a monarch, the expense of a luxurious court, and the tributes of
dependent provinces. Those provinces and tributes had been lost
in the fall of the Empire: and if some streams of the silver of
Peru and the gold of Brazil have been attracted by the Vatican,
the revenues of the cardinals, the fees of office, the oblations of
pilgrims and clients, and the remnant of ecclesiastical taxes, afford
a poor and precarious supply, which maintains however the idle-
ness of the court and city. The population of Rome, far below
the measure of the great capitals of Europe, does not exceed one
hundred and seventy thousand inhabitants; and within the spa-
cious inclosure of the walls the largest portion of the seven hills
is overspread with vineyards and ruins. The beauty and splendor
of the modern city may be ascribed to the abuses of the govern-
ment, to the influence of superstition. Each reign (the excep-
tions are rare) has been marked by the rapid elevation of a new
family, enriched by the childless pontiff at the expense of the
Church and country. The palaces of these fortunate nephews are
the most costly monuments of elegance and servitude: the per-
fect arts of architecture, painting, and sculpture have been pros-
tituted in their service; and their galleries and gardens are
decorated with the most precious works of antiquity which taste
or vanity has prompted them to collect. The ecclesiastical reve-
nues were more decently employed by the popes themselves in
the pomp of the Catholic worship; but it is superfluous to enu-
merate their pious foundations of altars, chapels, and churches,
since these lesser stars are eclipsed by the sun of the Vatican, by
the dome of St. Peter, the most glorious structure that ever has
been applied to the use of religion.
use of religion. The fame of Julius the
Second, Leo the Tenth, and Sixtus the Fifth is accompanied by
the superior merit of Bramante and Fontana, of Raphael and
Michael Angelo; and the same munificence which had been dis-
played in palaces and temples was directed with equal zeal to
revive and emulate the labors of antiquity. Prostrate obelisks
were raised from the ground and erected in the most conspicu-
ous places; of the eleven aqueducts of the Cæsars and consuls,
three were restored; the artificial rivers were conducted over a
long series of old, or of new arches, to discharge into marble


## p. 6330 (#304) ###########################################

6330
EDWARD GIBBON
heavens, the bell rang, the prophet of the Capitol reported the
prodigy, and the Senate was admonished of the impending dan-
ger. " A second example, of less importance though of equal
absurdity, may be drawn from the two marble horses, led by two
naked youths, which have since been transported from the baths
of Constantine to the Quirinal Hill. The groundless application
of the names of Phidias and Praxiteles may perhaps be excused:
but these Grecian sculptors should not have been removed above
four hundred years from the age of Pericles to that of Tiberius;
they should not have been transformed into two philosophers or
magicians, whose nakedness was the symbol of truth or knowl-
edge, who revealed to the Emperor his most secret actions, and
after refusing all pecuniary recompense, solicited the honor of
leaving this eternal monument of themselves. Thus, awake to
the power of magic, the Romans were insensible to the beauties
of art: no more than five statues were visible to the eyes of
Poggius; and of the multitudes which chance or design had
buried under the ruins, the resurrection was fortunately delayed
till a safer and more enlightened age. The Nile, which now
adorns the Vatican, had been explored by some laborers in dig-
ging a vineyard near the temple, or convent, of the Minerva: but
the impatient proprietor, who was tormented by some visits of
curiosity, restored the unprofitable marble to its former grave.
The discovery of the statue of Pompey, ten feet in length, was
the occasion of a lawsuit. It had been found under a partition
wall: the equitable judge had pronounced that the head should
be separated from the body to satisfy the claims of the contig-
uous owners; and the sentence would have been executed if
the intercession of a cardinal and the liberality of a pope had not
rescued the Roman hero from the hands of his barbarous coun-
trymen.
But the clouds of barbarism were gradually dispelled, and the
peaceful authority of Martin the Fifth and his successors restored
the ornaments of the city as well as the order of the ecclesias-
tical State. The improvements of Rome since the fifteenth cen-
tury have not been the spontaneous produce of freedom and
industry. The first and most natural root of a great city is the
labor and populousness of the adjacent country, which supplies
the materials of subsistence, of manufactures, and of foreign trade.
But the greater part of the Campagna of Rome is reduced to a
dreary and desolate wilderness; the overgrown estates of the


## p. 6331 (#305) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6331
princes and the clergy are cultivated by the lazy hands of indi-
gent and hopeless vassals; and the scanty harvests are confined
or exported for the benefit of a monopoly. A second and more
artificial cause of the growth of a metropolis is the residence of
a monarch, the expense of a luxurious court, and the tributes of
dependent provinces. Those provinces and tributes had been lost
in the fall of the Empire: and if some streams of the silver of
Peru and the gold of Brazil have been attracted by the Vatican,
the revenues of the cardinals, the fees of office, the oblations of
pilgrims and clients, and the remnant of ecclesiastical taxes, afford
a poor and precarious supply, which maintains however the idle-
ness of the court and city. The population of Rome, far below
the measure of the great capitals of Europe, does not exceed one
hundred and seventy thousand inhabitants; and within the spa-
cious inclosure of the walls the largest portion of the seven hills
is overspread with vineyards and ruins. The beauty and splendor
of the modern city may be ascribed to the abuses of the govern-
ment, to the influence of superstition. Each reign (the excep-
tions are rare) has been marked by the rapid elevation of a new
family, enriched by the childless pontiff at the expense of the
Church and country. The palaces of these fortunate nephews are
the most costly monuments of elegance and servitude: the per-
fect arts of architecture, painting, and sculpture have been pros-
tituted in their service; and their galleries and gardens are
decorated with the most precious works of antiquity which taste
or vanity has prompted them to collect. The ecclesiastical reve-
nues were more decently employed by the popes themselves in
the pomp of the Catholic worship; but it is superfluous to enu-
merate their pious foundations of altars, chapels, and churches,
since these lesser stars are eclipsed by the sun of the Vatican, by
the dome of St. Peter, the most glorious structure that ever has
been applied to the use of religion. The fame of Julius the
Second, Leo the Tenth, and Sixtus the Fifth is accompanied by
the superior merit of Bramante and Fontana, of Raphael and
Michael Angelo; and the same munificence which had been dis-
played in palaces and temples was directed with equal zeal to
revive and emulate the labors of antiquity. Prostrate obelisks
were raised from the ground and erected in the most conspicu-
ous places; of the eleven aqueducts of the Cæsars and consuls,
three were restored; the artificial rivers were conducted over a
long series of old, or of new arches, to discharge into marble


## p. 6332 (#306) ###########################################

6332
EDWARD GIBBON
basins a flood of salubrious and refreshing waters: and the spec-
tator, impatient to ascend the steps of St. Peter's, is detained by
a column of Egyptian granite, which rises between two lofty and
perpetual fountains to the height of one hundred and twenty
feet. The map, the description, the monuments of ancient Rome
have been elucidated by the diligence of the antiquarian and the
student; and the footsteps of heroes, the relics, not of supersti-
tion but of empire, are devoutly visited by a new race of pil
grims from the remote and once savage countries of the North.
All the foregoing selections are made from The History of the Decline and
Fall of the Roman Empire'


## p. 6333 (#307) ###########################################

6333
WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT
(1836-)
W
HEN, after appearing from time to time in the London Fun,
the 'Bab Ballads' were published in book form in 1870,
everybody, young and old, found them provocative of hearty
laughter. "Much sound and little sense," was the title-page motto.
Perhaps the fact that Mr. Gilbert's readers did not know why they
laughed was one great charm of the ballads. The humor was felt,
not analyzed, and involved no mental fatigue. If there was "little
sense," no continuity of meaning, there was usually significant sug-
gestion; and social foibles were touched off
with good-natured irony in a delightfully
inconsequent fashion. The "much sound"
was a spirited lyric swing which clung to
the memory, a rich rhythm, and a rollick-
ing spontaneity, which disregarded consid-
erations of grammar and pronunciation in a
way that only added to the fun.

The 'Bab Ballads,' and 'More Bab Bal-
lads' which appeared in 1872, have become
classic. In many of them may be found the
germs of the librettos which have made Gil-
bert famous in comic opera. 'Pinafore,'
'The Mikado,' 'Patience,' and many others
of a long and well-known list written to Sir
Arthur Sullivan's music, have furnished the public with many popular
songs. A volume of dainty lyrics has been made up from them; and,
entitled 'Songs of a Savoyard' (from the Savoy Theatre of London,
where the operas were first represented), was published in 1890.
Mr. Gilbert was born in London November 18th, 1836, and edu-
cated in that city; after his graduation from the University of Lon-
don he studied law, and was called to the bar of the Inner Temple in
1863. Five years later he became a captain of the Royal Aberdeen-
shire Highlanders. The success of his first play, 'Dulcamara,' in
1866, led him to abandon the law, and he has since devoted himself
to authorship.
WILLIAM S. GILBERT


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6334
WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT
CAPTAIN REECE
OF
F ALL the ships upon the blue,
No ship contained a better crew
Than that of worthy Captain Reece,
Commanding of The Mantle piece.
He was adored by all his men,
For worthy Captain Reece, R. N. ,
Did all that lay within him to
Promote the comfort of his crew.
If ever they were dull or sad,
Their captain danced to them like mad,
Or told, to make the time pass by,
Droll legends of his infancy.
A feather-bed had every man,
Warm slippers and hot-water can,
Brown windsor from the captain's store;
A valet, too, to every four.
Did they with thirst in summer burn,
Lo! seltzogenes at every turn;
And on all very sultry days
Cream ices handed round on trays.
Then, currant wine and ginger pops
Stood handily on all the "tops";
And also, with amusement rife,
A "Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life. "
New volumes came across the sea
From Mr. Mudie's libraree;
The Times and Saturday Review
Beguiled the leisure of the crew.
Kind-hearted Captain Reece, R. N. ,
Was quite devoted to his men;
In point of fact, good Captain Reece
Beatified The Mantelpiece.
One summer eve, at half-past ten,
He said (addressing all his men):—
"Come, tell me, please, what I can do
To please and gratify my crew.


## p. 6335 (#309) ###########################################

WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT
6335
"By any reasonable plan
I'll make you happy if I can,-
My own convenience count as nil:
It is my duty, and I will. »
Then up and answered William Lee
(The kindly captain's coxwain he,
A nervous, shy, low-spoken man);
He cleared his throat, and thus began:-
"You have a daughter, Captain Reece,
Ten female cousins and a niece,
A ma, if what I'm told is true,
Six sisters, and an aunt or two.
"Now, somehow, sir, it seems to me,
More friendly-like we all should be,
If you united of 'em to
Unmarried members of the crew.
"If you'd ameliorate our life,
Let each select from them a wife;
And as for nervous me, old pal,
Give me your own enchanting gal! "
Good Captain Reece, that worthy man,
Debated on his coxwain's plan:-
"I quite agree," he said, "O Bill:
It is my duty, and I will.
"My daughter, that enchanting gurl,
Has just been promised to an Earl,
And all my other familee
To peers of various degree.
"But what are dukes and viscounts to
The happiness of all my crew?
The word I gave you I'll fulfill;
It is my duty, and I will.
"As you desire it shall befall;
I'll settle thousands on you all,
And I shall be, despite my hoard,
The only bachelor on board. "
-
The boatswain of the Mantelpiece,
He blushed and spoke to Captain Reece:
-


## p. 6336 (#310) ###########################################

6336
WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT
"I beg your Honor's leave," he said:-
"If you would wish to go and wed,
"I have a widowed mother who
Would be the very thing for you-
She long has loved you from afar:
She washes for you, Captain R. "
The captain saw the dame that day-
Addressed her in his playful way:-
"And did it want a wedding ring?
It was a tempting ickle sing!
-
"Well, well, the chaplain I will seek,
We'll all be married this day week
At yonder church upon the hill;
It is my duty, and I will! »
The sisters, cousins, aunts, and niece,
And widowed ma of Captain Reece,
Attended there as they were bid:
It was their duty, and they did.
THE YARN OF THE NANCY BELL
WAS on the shores that round our coast
'TWA From Deal to Ramsgate span,
That I found alone on a piece of stone
An elderly naval man.
His hair was weedy, his beard was long,
And weedy and long was he;
And I heard this wight on the shore recite,
In a singular minor key:-
"Oh, I am a cook, and a captain bold,
And the mate of the Nancy brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig. "
And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,
Till I really felt afraid,
For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,
And so I simply said:—


## p. 6337 (#311) ###########################################

WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT
6337
"O elderly man, it's little I know
Of the duties of men of the sea,
And I'll eat my hand if I understand
However you can be
"At once a cook, and a captain bold,
And the mate of the Nancy brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig. "
And he gave a hitch to his trousers, which
Is a trick all seamen larn,
And having got rid of a thumping quid,
He spun his painful yarn:
-
'Twas in the good ship Nancy Bell
That we sailed to the Indian Sea,
And there on a reef we come to grief,
Which has often occurred to me.
"And pretty nigh all the crew was drowned
(There was seventy-seven o' soul),
And only ten of the Nancy's men
Said 'Here! ' to the muster-roll.
"There was me and the cook and the captain bold,
And the mate of the Nancy brig,
And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig.
"For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink,
Till a-hungry we did feel;
So we drawed a lot, and accordin', shot
The captain for our meal.
"The next lot fell to the Nancy's mate,
And a delicate dish he made;
Then our appetite with the midshipmite
We seven survivors stayed.
"And then we murdered the bo'sun tight,
And he much resembled pig;
Then we wittled free, did the cook and me
On the crew of the captain's gig.
"Then only the cook and me was left,
And the delicate question, "Which
XI-397


## p. 6338 (#312) ###########################################


6338
WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT
Of us two goes to the kettle? ' arose,
And we argued it out as sich.
"For I loved that cook as a brother, I did,
And the cook he worshiped me;
But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed
In the other chap's hold, you see.
"I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says Tom;
'Yes, that,' says I, 'you'll be:
I'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I;
And Exactly so,' quoth he.
"Says he, 'Dear James, to murder me
Were a foolish thing to do,
For don't you see that you can't cook me,
While I can and will-cook you? '
"So he boils the water, and takes the salt
And the pepper in portions true
(Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot,
And some sage and parsley too.
<<"Come here,' says he, with a proper pride,
Which his smiling features tell;
Twill soothing be if I let you see
How extremely nice you'll smell. '
"And he stirred it round and round and round,
And he sniffed at the foaming froth;
When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals.
In the scum of the boiling broth.
"And I eat that cook in a week or less,
And as I eating be
The last of his chops, why, I almost drops,
For a wessel in sight I see!
—
"And I never larf, and I never smile,
And I never lark nor play,
But sit and croak, and a single joke
I have - which is to say:-
-
«Oh, I am a cook, and a captain bold,
And the mate of the Nancy brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig! ""


## p. 6339 (#313) ###########################################


WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT
6339
THE BISHOP OF RUM-TI-FOO
F
ROM east and south the holy clan
Of bishops gathered to a man;
To Synod, called Pan-Anglican,
In flocking crowds they came.
Among them was a bishop who
Had lately been appointed to
The balmy isle of Rum-ti-Foo,
And Peter was his name.
His people-twenty-three in sum
They played the eloquent tum-tum,
And lived on scalps served up in rum
The only sauce they knew.
When first good Bishop Peter came
(For Peter was that bishop's name),
To humor them, he did the same
As they of Rum-ti-Foo.
-
His flock, I've often heard him tell,
(His name was Peter) loved him well,
And summoned by the sound of bell,
In crowds together came.
"Oh, massa, why you go away?
Oh, Massa Peter, please to stay. "
(They called him Peter, people say,
Because it was his name. )
He told them all good boys to be,
And sailed away across the sea;
At London Bridge that bishop he
Arrived one Tuesday night;
And as that night he homeward strode
To his Pan-Anglican abode,
He passed along the Borough Road,
And saw a gruesome sight.
He saw a crowd assembled round
A person dancing on the ground,
Who straight began to leap and bound
With all his might and main.
To see that dancing man he stopped,
Who twirled and wriggled, skipped and hopped,
Then down incontinently dropped,
And then sprang up again.


## p. 6340 (#314) ###########################################

6340
WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT
The bishop chuckled at the sight.
"This style of dancing would delight
A simple Rum-ti-Foozleite:
I'll learn it if I can,
To please the tribe when I get back. "
He begged the man to teach his knack.
"Right reverend sir, in half a crack!