No More Learning

His father
judiciously sent him to Lausanne to study with a Swiss pastor named
Pavilliard, with whom he spent five happy and profitable years. The
theological episode was soon terminated. Partly under the influence
of his teacher, but much more through his own reading and reflec-
tions, he soon disentangled the purely intellectual ties that bound him
to the Church of Rome; and on Christmas Day, 1754, he received the
sacrament in the Protestant church of Lausanne.
His residence at Lausanne was very useful to him. He had access
to books in abundance, and his tutor, who was a man of great good
sense and amiability but of no remarkable capacity, very judiciously
left his industrious pupil to pursue his studies in his own way.


## p. 6273 (#247) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6273
"Hiving wisdom with each studious year,” as Byron so truly says,
he speedily amassed a store of learning which has seldom been
equaled. His insatiable love of knowledge, his rare capacity for con-
centrated, accurate, and fruitful study, guided by a singularly sure
and masculine judgment, soon made him, in the true sense of the
word, one of the best scholars of his time. His learning, however, was
not altogether of the kind that may be found in a great university
professor. Though the classical languages became familiar to him, he
never acquired or greatly valued the minute and finished scholarship
which is the boast of the chief English schools; and careful students
have observed that in following Greek books he must have very largely
used the Latin translations. Perhaps in his capacity of historian this
deficiency was rather an advantage than the reverse. It saved him
from the exaggerated value of classical form, and from the neglect of
the more corrupt literatures, to which English scholars have been often
prone. Gibbon always valued books mainly for what they contained,
and he had early learned the lesson which all good historians should
learn that some of his most valuable materials will be found in lit-
eratures that have no artistic merit; in writers who, without theory
and almost without criticism, simply relate the facts which they have
seen, and express in unsophisticated language the beliefs and impres-
sions of their time.
Lausanne and not Oxford was the real birthplace of his intellect,
and he returned from it almost a foreigner. French had become as
familiar to him as his own tongue; and his first book, a somewhat
superficial essay on the study of literature, was published in the
French language. The noble contemporary French literature filled
him with delight, and he found on the borders of the Lake of Geneva
a highly cultivated society to which he was soon introduced, and
which probably gave him more real pleasure than any in which
he afterwards moved. With Voltaire himself he had some slight
acquaintance, and he at one time looked on him with profound ad-
miration; though fuller knowledge made him sensible of the flaws
in that splendid intellect. I am here concerned with the life of Gib-
bon only in as far as it discloses the influences that contributed to
his master work, and among these influences the foreign element
holds a prominent place. There was little in Gibbon that was dis-
tinctively English; his mind was essentially cosmopolitan. His tastes,
ideals, and modes of thought and feeling turned instinctively to the
Continent.
In one respect this foreign type was of great advantage to his work,
Gibbon excels all other English historians in symmetry, proportion,
perspective, and arrangement, which are also the pre-eminent and
characteristic merits of the best French literature. We find in his
writing nothing of the great miscalculations of space that were made
XI-393


## p. 6274 (#248) ###########################################

6274
EDWARD GIBBON
by such writers as Macaulay and Buckle; nothing of the awkward
repetitions, the confused arrangement, the semi-detached and dis-
jointed episodes that mar the beauty of many other histories of no
small merit. Vast and multifarious as are the subjects which he
has treated, his work is a great whole, admirably woven in all its
parts. On the other hand, his foreign taste may perhaps be seen in
his neglect of the Saxon element, which is the most vigorous and
homely element in English prose. Probably in no other English
writer does the Latin element so entirely predominate. Gibbon never
wrote an unmeaning and very seldom an obscure sentence; he could
always paint with sustained and stately eloquence an illustrious char-
acter or a splendid scene: but he was wholly wanting in the grace of
simplicity, and a monotony of glitter and of mannerism is the great
defect of his style. He possessed, to a degree which even Tacitus
and Bacon had hardly surpassed, the supreme literary gift of conden-
sation, and it gives an admirable force and vividness to his nar-
rative; but it is sometimes carried to excess. Not unfrequently it
is attained by an excessive allusiveness, and a wide knowledge of
the subject needed to enable the reader to perceive the full im-
port and meaning conveyed or hinted at by a mere turn of phrase.
But though his style is artificial and pedantic, and greatly wanting
in flexibility, it has a rare power of clinging to the memory, and it
has profoundly influenced English prose. That excellent judge Car-
dinal Newman has said of Gibbon, "I seem to trace his vigorous
condensation and peculiar rhythm at every turn in the literature
of the present day. "
It is not necessary to relate here in any detail the later events of
the life of Gibbon. There was his enlistment as captain in the
Hampshire militia. It involved two and a half years of active serv-
ice, extending from May 1760 to December 1762; and as Gibbon
afterwards acknowledged, if it interrupted his studies and brought
him into very uncongenial duties and societies, it at least greatly en-
larged his acquaintance with English life, and also gave him a
knowledge of the rudiments of military science, which was not with-
out its use to the historian of so many battles. There was a long
journey, lasting for two years and five months, in France and Italy,
which greatly confirmed his foreign tendencies. In Paris he moved
familiarly in some of the best French literary society; and in Rome,
as he tells us in a well-known passage, while he sat "musing amidst
the ruins of the Capitol while the barefooted friars were singing
vespers in the Temple of Jupiter" (which is now the Church of the
Ara Cœli), on October 15th, 1764,- he first conceived the idea of
writing the history of the decline and fall of Rome.
—
There was also that very curious episode in his life, lasting from
1774 to 1782,- his appearance in the House of Commons. He had


## p. 6275 (#249) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6275
declined an offer of his father's to purchase a seat for him in 1760;
and fourteen years later, when his father was dead, when his own
circumstances were considerably contracted, he received and accepted
at the hands of a family connection the offer of a seat. His Parlia-
mentary career was entirely undistinguished, and he never even
opened his mouth in debate,—a fact which was not forgotten when
very recently another historian was candidate for a seat in Parlia-
ment. In truth, this somewhat shy and reserved scholar, with his
fastidious taste, his eminently judicial mind, and his highly condensed
and elaborate style, was singularly unfit for the rough work of Par-
liamentary discussion. No one can read his books without perceiving
that his English was not that of a debater; and he has candidly
admitted that he entered Parliament without public spirit or serious
interest in politics, and that he valued it chiefly as leading to an
office which might restore the fortune which the extravagance of his
father had greatly impaired. His only real public service was the
composition in French of a reply to the French manifesto which was
issued at the beginning of the war of 1778. He voted steadily and
placidly as a Tory, and it is not probable that in doing so he did any
violence to his opinions. Like Hume, he shrank with an instinctive
dislike from all popular agitations, from all turbulence, passion, exag-
geration, and enthusiasm; and a temperate and well-ordered despotism
was evidently his ideal. He showed it in the well-known passage in
which he extols the benevolent despotism of the Antonines as with-
out exception the happiest period in the history of mankind, and in
the unmixed horror with which he looked upon the French Revolu-
tion that broke up the old landmarks of Europe. For three years he
held an office in the Board of Trade, which added considerably to his
income without adding greatly to his labors, and he supported stead-
ily the American policy of Lord North and the Coalition ministry of
North and Fox; but the loss of his office and the retirement of North
soon drove him from Parliament, and he shortly after took up his
residence at Lausanne.
But before this time a considerable part of his great work had been
accomplished. The first quarto volume of the 'Decline and Fall' ap-
peared in February 1776. As is usually the case with historical works,
it occupied a much longer period than its successors, and was the
fruit of about ten years of labor. It passed rapidly through three
editions, received the enthusiastic eulogy of Hume and Robertson,
and was no doubt greatly assisted in its circulation by the storm
of controversy that arose about his Fifteenth and Sixteenth Chapters.
In April 1781 two more volumes appeared, and the three concluding
volumes were published together on the 8th of May, 1788, being the
fifty-first birthday of the author.


## p. 6276 (#250) ###########################################

6276
EDWARD GIBBON
A work of such magnitude, dealing with so vast a variety of sub-
jects, was certain to exhibit some flaws. The controversy at first
turned mainly upon its religious tendency. The complete skepticism
of the author, his aversion to the ecclesiastical type which dominated
in the period of which he wrote, and his unalterable conviction that
Christianity, by diverting the strength and enthusiasm of the Empire
from civic into ascetic and ecclesiastical channels, was a main cause
of the downfall of the Empire and of the triumph of barbarism, gave
him a bias which it was impossible to overlook. On no other subject
is his irony more bitter or his contempt so manifestly displayed. Few
good critics will deny that the growth of the ascetic spirit had a
large part in corroding and enfeebling the civic virtues of the Empire;
but the part which it played was that of intensifying a disease that
had already begun, and Gibbon, while exaggerating the amount of
the evil, has very imperfectly described the great services rendered
even by a monastic Church in laying the basis of another civilization
and in mitigating the calamities of the barbarian invasion. The
causes he has given of the spread of Christianity in the Fifteenth
Chapter were for the most part true causes, but there were others of
which he was wholly insensible. The strong moral enthusiasms that
transform the character and inspire or accelerate all great religious
changes lay wholly beyond the sphere of his realizations. His lan-
guage about the Christian martyrs is the most repulsive portion of
his work; and his comparison of the sufferings caused by pagan and
Christian persecutions is greatly vitiated by the fact that he only
takes account of the number of deaths, and lays no stress on the pro-
fuse employment of atrocious tortures, which was one of the most
distinct features of the pagan persecutions. At the same time, though
Gibbon displays in this field a manifest and a distorting bias, he
never, like some of his French contemporaries, sinks into the mere
partisan, awarding to one side unqualified eulogy and to the other
unqualified contempt. Let the reader who doubts this examine and
compare his masterly portraits of Julian and of Athanasius, and he
will perceive how clearly the great historian could recognize weak-
nesses in the characters by which he was most attracted, and ele-
ments of true greatness in those by which he was most repelled. A
modern writer, in treating of the history of religions, would have
given a larger space to comparative religion, and to the gradual, un-
conscious, and spontaneous growth of myths in the twilight periods of
the human mind. These however were subjects which were scarcely
known in the days of Gibbon, and he cannot be blamed for not hav-
ing discussed them.
Another class of objections which has been brought against him is
that he is weak upon the philosophical side, and deals with history


## p. 6277 (#251) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6277
mainly as a mere chronicle of events, and not as a chain of causes
and consequences, a series of problems to be solved, a gradual evolu-
tion which it is the task of the historian to explain. Coleridge, who
detested Gibbon and spoke of him with gross injustice, has put this
objection in the strongest form. He accuses him of having reduced
history to a mere collection of splendid anecdotes; of noting nothing
but what may produce an effect; of skipping from eminence to emi-
nence without ever taking his readers through the valleys between; of
having never made a single philosophical attempt to fathom the ulti-
mate causes of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, which is
the very subject of his history. That such charges are grossly exag-
gerated will be apparent to any one who will carefully read the Sec-
ond and Third Chapters, describing the state and tendencies of the
Empire under the Antonines; or the chapters devoted to the rise and
character of the barbarians, to the spread of Christianity, to the influ-
ence of monasticism, to the jurisprudence of the republic and of the
Empire; nor would it be difficult to collect many acute and profound
philosophical remarks from other portions of the history. Still, it
may be admitted that the philosophical side is not its strongest part.
Social and economical changes are sometimes inadequately exam-
ined and explained, and we often desire fuller information about the
manners and life of the masses of the people. As far as concerns
the age of the Antonines, this want has been amply supplied by the
great work of Friedländer.
History, like many other things in our generation, has fallen
largely into the hands of specialists; and it is inevitable that men
who have devoted their lives to a minute examination of short
periods should be able to detect some deficiencies and errors in a
writer who traversed a period of more than twelve hundred years.
Many generations of scholars have arisen since Gibbon; many new
sources of knowledge have become available, and archæology espe-
cially has thrown a flood of new light on some of the subjects he
treated. Though his knowledge and his narrative are on the whole
admirably sustained, there are periods which he knew less well and
treated less fully than others. His account of the Crusades is gener-
ally acknowledged to be one of the most conspicuous of these, and
within the last few years there has arisen a school of historians who
protest against the low opinion of the Byzantine Empire which was
held by Gibbon, and was almost universal among scholars till the
present generation. That these writers have brought into relief cer-
tain merits of the Lower Empire which Gibbon had neglected, will
not be denied; but it is perhaps too early to decide whether the re-
action has not, like most reactions, been carried to extravagance, and
whether in its general features the estimate of Gibbon is not nearer
the truth than some of those which are now put forward to replace it.


## p. 6278 (#252) ###########################################

6278
EDWARD GIBBON
Much must no doubt be added to the work of Gibbon in order to
bring it up to the level of our present knowledge; but there is no
sign that any single work is likely to supersede it or to render it use-
less to the student; nor does its survival depend only or even mainly
on its great literary qualities, which have made it one of the classics
of the language. In some of these qualities Hume was the equal of
Gibbon and in others his superior, and he brought to his history a
more penetrating and philosophical intellect and an equally calm and
unenthusiastic nature; but the study which Hume bestowed on his
subject was so superficial and his statements were often so inaccu-
rate, that his work is now never quoted as an authority. With Gibbon
it is quite otherwise. His marvelous industry, his almost unrivaled
accuracy of detail, his sincere love of truth, his rare discrimination
and insight in weighing testimony and in judging character, have
given him a secure place among the greatest historians of the world.
His life lasted only fifty-six years; he died in London on January
15th, 1794. With a single exception his history is his only work of real
importance. That exception is his admirable autobiography. Gibbon
left behind him six distinct sketches, which his friend Lord Sheffield
put together with singular skill. It is one of the best specimens of
self-portraiture in the language, reflecting with pellucid clearness both
the life and character, the merits and defects, of its author.
He was
certainly neither a hero nor a saint; nor did he possess the moral
and intellectual qualities that dominate in the great conflicts of life,
sway the passions of men, appeal powerfully to the imagination, or
dazzle and impress in social intercourse. He was a little slow, a little
pompous, a little affected and pedantic. In the general type of his
mind and character he bore much more resemblance to Hume, Adam
Smith, or Reynolds, than to Johnson or Burke. A reserved scholar,
who was rather proud of being a man of the world; a confirmed
bachelor, much wedded to his comforts though caring nothing for lux-
ury, he was eminently moderate in his ambitions, and there was not
a trace of passion or enthusiasm in his nature. Such a man was not
likely to inspire any strong devotion. But his temper was most
kindly, equable, and contented; he was a steady friend, and he ap-
pears to have been always liked and honored in the cultivated and
uncontentious society in which he delighted. His life was not a great
one, but it was in all essentials blameless and happy. He found the
work which was most congenial to him. He pursued it with admi-
rable industry and with brilliant success, and he left behind him a
book which is not likely to be forgotten while the English language
endures.
век бику


## p. 6279 (#253) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6279
ZENOBIA
-
URELIAN had no sooner secured the person and provinces of
A Tetricus, than he turned his arms against Zenobia, the cele-
brated queen of Palmyra and the East. Modern Europe has
produced several illustrious women who have sustained with glory
the weight of empire nor is our own age destitute of such dis-
tinguished characters. But if we except the doubtful achieve-
ments of Semiramis, Zenobia is perhaps the only female whose
superior genius broke through the servile indolence imposed on
her sex by the climate and manners of Asia. She claimed her
descent from the Macedonian kings of Egypt, equaled in beauty
her ancestor Cleopatra, and far surpassed that princess in chastity
and valor. Zenobia was esteemed the most lovely as well as the
most heroic of her sex. She was of a dark complexion (for in
speaking of a lady these trifles become important). Her teeth
were of a pearly whiteness, and her large black eyes sparkled
with uncommon fire, tempered by the most attractive sweetness.
Her voice was strong and harmonious. Her manly understand-
ing was strengthened and adorned by study. She was not igno-
rant of the Latin tongue, but possessed in equal perfection the
Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. She had drawn
up for her own use an epitome of Oriental history, and familiarly
compared the beauties of Homer and Plato under the tuition of
the sublime Longinus.
This accomplished woman gave her hand to Odenathus, who,
from a private station, raised himself to the dominion of the
East. She soon became the friend and companion of a hero. In
the intervals of war, Odenathus passionately delighted in the ex-
ercise of hunting; he pursued with ardor the wild beasts of the
desert, lions, panthers, and bears; and the ardor of Zenobia in
that dangerous amusement was not inferior to his own. She had
inured her constitution to fatigue, disdained the use of a covered
carriage, generally appeared on horseback in a military habit, and
sometimes marched several miles on foot at the head of the
troops. The success of Odenathus was in a great measure as-
cribed to her incomparable prudence and fortitude. Their splen-
did victories over the Great King, whom they twice pursued as
far as the gates of Ctesiphon, laid the foundations of their united
fame and power. The armies which they commanded, and the


## p. 6280 (#254) ###########################################

6280
EDWARD GIBBON
provinces which they had saved, acknowledged not any other sov-
ereigns than their invincible chiefs. The Senate and people of
Rome revered a stranger who had avenged their captive em-
peror, and even the insensible son of Valerian accepted Odena-
thus for his legitimate colleague.
After a successful expedition against the Gothic plunderers of
Asia, the Palmyrenian prince returned to the city of Emesa in
Syria. Invincible in war, he was there cut off by domestic trea-
son; and his favorite amusement of hunting was the cause, or at
least the occasion, of his death. His nephew Mæonius presumed
to dart his javelin before that of his uncle; and though admon-
ished of his error, repeated the same insolence. As a monarch
and as a sportsman, Odenathus was provoked, took away his
horse, a mark of ignominy among the barbarians, and chastised.
the rash youth by a short confinement. The offense was soon for-
got, but the punishment was remembered; and Mæonius, with a
few daring associates, assassinated his uncle in the midst of a
great entertainment. Herod, the son of Odenathus, though not of
Zenobia, a young man of a soft and effeminate temper, was killed
with his father. But Mæonius obtained only the pleasure of
revenge by this bloody deed. He had scarcely time to assume
the title of Augustus, before he was sacrificed by Zenobia to
the memory of her husband.
With the assistance of his most faithful friends, she immedi-
ately filled the vacant throne, and governed with manly counsels
Palmyra, Syria, and the East, above five years. By the death of
Odenathus, that authority was at an end which the Senate had
granted him only as a personal distinction; but his martial
widow, disdaining both the Senate and Gallienus, obliged one of
the Roman generals who was sent against her to retreat into
Europe, with the loss of his army and his reputation. Instead of
the little passions which so frequently perplex a female reign, the
steady administration of Zenobia was guided by the most judicious
maxims of policy. If it was expedient to pardon, she could calm
her resentment; if it was necessary to punish, she could impose
silence on the voice of pity. Her strict economy was accused of
avarice; yet on every proper occasion she appeared magnificent
and liberal. The neighboring States of Arabia, Armenia, and
Persia dreaded her enmity and solicited her alliance. To the
dominions of Odenathus, which extended from the Euphrates to
the frontiers of Bithynia, his widow added the inheritance of her


## p. 6281 (#255) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6281
ancestors, the populous and fertile kingdom of Egypt. The Em-
peror Claudius acknowledged her merit, and was content that
while he pursued the Gothic war, she should assert the dignity of
the Empire in the East. The conduct however of Zenobia was
attended with some ambiguity, nor is it unlikely that she had
conceived the design of erecting an independent and hostile mon-
archy. She blended with the popular manners of Roman princes
the stately pomp of the courts of Asia, and exacted from her sub-
jects the same adoration that was paid to the successors of Cyrus.
She bestowed on her three sons a Latin education, and often
showed them to the troops adorned with the imperial purple.
For herself she reserved the diadem, with the splendid but doubt-
ful title of Queen of the East.
When Aurelian passed over into Asia against an adversary
whose sex alone could render her an object of contempt, his
presence restored obedience to the province of Bithynia, already
shaken by the arms and intrigues of Zenobia. Advancing at the
head of his legions, he accepted the submission of Ancyra, and
was admitted into Tyana, after an obstinate siege, by the help
of a perfidious citizen. The generous though fierce temper of
Aurelian abandoned the traitor to the rage of the soldiers: a
superstitious reverence induced him to treat with lenity the coun-
trymen of Apollonius the philosopher. Antioch was deserted on
his approach, till the Emperor, by his salutary edicts, recalled the
fugitives, and granted a general pardon to all who from neces-
sity rather than choice had been engaged in the service of the
Palmyrenian Queen. The unexpected mildness of such a conduct
reconciled the minds of the Syrians, and as far as the gates of
Emesa the wishes of the people seconded the terror of his arms.
Zenobia would have ill deserved her reputation, had she indo-
lently permitted the Emperor of the West to approach within a
hundred miles of her capital. The fate of the East was decided
in two great battles, so similar in almost every circumstance
that we can scarcely distinguish them from each other, except by
observing that the first was fought near Antioch and the second
near Emesa. In both the Queen of Palmyra animated the armies
by her presence, and devolved the execution of her orders on
Zabdas, who had already signalized his military talents by the
conquest of Egypt. The numerous forces of Zenobia consisted
for the most part of light archers, and of heavy cavalry clothed
in complete steel. The Moorish and Illyrian horse of Aurelian


## p. 6282 (#256) ###########################################

6282
EDWARD GIBBON
were unable to sustain the ponderous charge of their antagonists.
They fled in real or affected disorder, engaged the Palmyrenians
in a laborious pursuit, harassed them by a desultory combat, and
at length discomfited this impenetrable but unwieldy body of
cavalry. The light infantry, in the mean time, when they had
exhausted their quivers, remaining without protection against a
closer onset, exposed their naked sides to the swords of the
legions. Aurelian had chosen these veteran troops, who were
usually stationed on the Upper Danube, and whose valor had
been severely tried in the Alemannic war. After the defeat of
Emesa, Zenobia found it impossible to collect a third army.
ar as the frontier of Egypt, the nations subject to her empire
had joined the standard of the conqueror, who detached Probus,
the bravest of his generals, to possess himself of the Egyptian
provinces. Palmyra was the last resource of the widow of
Odenathus. She retired within the walls of her capital, made
every preparation for a vigorous resistance, and declared, with the
intrepidity of a heroine, that the last moment of her reign and
of her life should be the same.
Amid the barren deserts of Arabia, a few cultivated spots rise
like islands out of the sandy ocean. Even the name of Tadmor,
or Palmyra, by its signification in the Syriac as well as in the
Latin language, denoted the multitude of palm-trees which
afforded shade and verdure to that temperate region. The air
was pure, and the soil, watered by some invaluable springs, was
capable of producing fruits as well as corn. A place possessed
of such singular advantages, and situated at a convenient dis-
tance between the Gulf of Persia and the Mediterranean,* was
soon frequented by the caravans which conveyed to the nations
of Europe a considerable part of the rich commodities of India.
Palmyra insensibly increased into an opulent and independent
city, and connecting the Roman and the Parthian monarchies
by the mutual benefits of commerce, was suffered to observe a
humble neutrality, till at length after the victories of Trajan
the little republic sunk into the bosom of Rome, and flourished
more than one hundred and fifty years in the subordinate though
honorable rank of a colony. It was during that peaceful period,
if we may judge from a few remaining inscriptions, that the
wealthy Palmyrenians constructed those temples, palaces, and
* Five hundred and thirty-seven miles from Seleucia, two hundred and
three from the nearest coast of Syria, according to Pliny.


## p. 6283 (#257) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6283
porticos of Grecian architecture whose ruins, scattered over an
extent of several miles, have deserved the curiosity of our travel-
ers. The elevation of Odenathus and Zenobia appeared to reflect
new splendor on their country, and Palmyra for a while stood
forth the rival of Rome: but the competition was fatal, and ages
of prosperity were sacrificed to a moment of glory.
In his march over the sandy desert between Emesa and Pal-
myra, the Emperor Aurelian was perpetually harassed by the
Arabs; nor could he always defend his army, and especially his
baggage, from those flying troops of active and daring robbers
who watched the moment of surprise and eluded the slow pur-
suit of the legions. The siege of Palmyra was an object far
more difficult and important, and the Emperor, who with inces-
sant vigor pressed the attacks in person, was himself wounded
with a dart. "The Roman people," says Aurelian, in an original
letter, "speak with contempt of the war which I am waging
against a woman. They a ignorant both of the character and
of the power of Zenobia. It is impossible to enumerate her war-
like preparations of stones, of arrows, and of every species of
missile weapons. Every part of the walls is provided with two
or three balista, and artificial fires are thrown from her military
engines. The fear of punishment has armed her with a desperate
courage. Yet still I trust in the protecting deities of Rome, who
have hitherto been favorable to all my undertakings. " Doubtful,
however, of the protection of the gods and of the event of the
siege, Aurelian judged it more prudent to offer terms of an ad-
vantageous capitulation: to the Queen, a splendid retreat; to the
citizens, their ancient privileges. His proposals were obstinately
rejected, and the refusal was accompanied with insult.
The firmness of Zenobia was supported by the hope that in a
very short time famine would compel the Roman army to repass
the desert, and by the reasonable expectation that the kings of
the East, and particularly the Persian monarch, would arm in the
defense of their most natural ally. But fortune and the persever-
ance of Aurelian overcame every obstacle. The death of Sapor,
which happened about this time, distracted the counsels of Persia,
and the inconsiderable succors that attempted to relieve Palmyra
were easily intercepted either by the arms or the liberality of
the Emperor. From every part of Syria a regular succession of
convoys safely arrived in the camp, which was increased by the
return of Probus with his victorious troops from the conquest of


## p. 6284 (#258) ###########################################

6284
EDWARD GIBBON
Egypt. It was then that Zenobia resolved to fly. She mounted
the fleetest of her dromedaries, and had already reached the banks
of the Euphrates, about sixty miles from Palmyra, when she was
overtaken by the pursuit of Aurelian's light horse, seized, and
brought back a captive to the feet of the Emperor. Her capital
soon afterwards surrendered, and was treated with unexpected
lenity. The arms, horses, and camels, with an immense treasure
of gold, silver, silk, and precious stones, were all delivered to the
conqueror, who, leaving only a garrison of six hundred archers,
returned to Emesa and employed some time in the distribution
of rewards and punishments at the end of so memorable a war,
which restored to the obedience of Rome those provinces that had
renounced their allegiance since the captivity of Valerian.
When the Syrian Queen was brought into the presence of
Aurelian he sternly asked her, How she had presumed to rise in
arms against the emperors of Rome! The answer of Zenobia was
a prudent mixture of respect and firmness: "Because I disdained
to consider as Roman emperors an Aureolus or a Gallienus. You
alone I acknowledge as my conqueror and my sovereign. ”
as female fortitude is commonly artificial, so it is seldom steady
or consistent. The courage of Zenobia deserted her in the hour
of trial; she trembled at the angry clamors of the soldiers, who
called aloud for her immediate execution, forgot the generous
despair of Cleopatra which she had proposed as her model, and
ignominiously purchased life by the sacrifice of her fame and her
friends. It was to their counsels, which governed the weakness
of her sex, that she imputed the guilt of her obstinate resistance;
it was on their heads that she directed the vengeance of the cruel
Aurelian. The fame of Longinus, who was included among the
numerous and perhaps innocent victims of her fear, will survive
that of the Queen who betrayed or the tyrant who condemned
him. Genius and learning were incapable of moving a fierce.
unlettered soldier, but they had served to elevate and harmonize
the soul of Longinus. Without uttering a complaint he calmly.
followed the executioner, pitying his unhappy mistress, and be-
stowing comfort on his afflicted friends.
But, however in the treatment of his unfortunate rivals Aure-
lian might indulge his pride, he behaved towards them with a
generous clemency which was seldom exercised by the ancient
conquerors. Princes who without success had defended their
throne or freedom, were frequently strangled in prison as soon


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EDWARD GIBBON
6285
as the triumphal pomp ascended the Capitol.
These usurpers,
whom their defeat had convicted of the crime of treason, were
permitted to spend their lives in affluence and honorable repose.
The Emperor presented Zenobia with an elegant villa at Tibur,
or Tivoli, about twenty miles from the capital; the Syrian queen
insensibly sunk into a Roman matron, her daughters married into
noble families, and her race was not yet extinct in the fifth cen-
tury.
FOUNDATION OF CONSTANTINOPLE
WⓇ
E ARE at present qualified to view the advantageous position
of Constantinople, which appears to have been formed by
nature for the centre and capital of a great monarchy.
Situated in the forty-first degree of latitude, the imperial city
commanded from her seven hills the opposite shores of Europe
and Asia; the climate was healthy and temperate, the soil fertile,
the harbor secure and capacious; and the approach on the side of
the continent was of small extent and easy defense. The Bos-
phorus and the Hellespont may be considered as the two gates
of Constantinople; and the prince who possessed those important
passages could always shut them against a naval enemy and open
them to the fleets of commerce. The preservation of the eastern
provinces may in some degree be ascribed to the policy of Con-
stantine, as the barbarians of the Euxine, who in the preceding
age had poured their armaments into the heart of the Mediter-
ranean, soon desisted from the exercise of piracy, and despaired
of forcing this insurmountable barrier. When the gates of the
Hellespont and Bosphorus were shut, the capital still enjoyed
within their spacious inclosure every production which could sup-
ply the wants or gratify the luxury of its numerous inhabitants.
The sea-coasts of Thrace and Bithynia, which languish under the
weight of Turkish oppression, still exhibit a rich prospect of
vineyards, of gardens, and of plentiful harvests; and the Pro-
pontis has ever been renowned for an inexhaustible store of the
most exquisite fish, that are taken in their stated seasons with-
out skill and almost without labor. But when the passages of
the straits were thrown open for trade, they alternately admitted
the natural and artificial riches of the North and South, of the
Euxine and of the Mediterranean. Whatever rude commodities
were collected in the forests of Germany and Scythia, as far as


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6286
EDWARD GIBBON
the sources of the Tanais and the Borysthenes; whatsoever was
manufactured by the skill of Europe or Asia; the corn of Egypt,
and the gems and spices of the farthest India, were brought by
the varying winds into the port of Constantinople, which for
many ages attracted the commerce of the ancient world.
The prospect of beauty, of safety, and of wealth, united in a
single spot, was sufficient to justify the choice of Constantine.
But as some decent mixture of prodigy and fable has in every
age been supposed to reflect a becoming majesty on the origin
of great cities, the Emperor was desirous of ascribing his resolu-
tion, not so much to the uncertain counsels of human policy as
to the infallible and eternal decrees of Divine wisdom. In one of
his laws he has been careful to instruct posterity that in obedi-
ence to the commands of God he laid the everlasting foundations
of Constantinople: and though he has not condescended to relate
in what manner the celestial inspiration was communicated to his
mind, the defect of his modest silence has been liberally sup-
plied by the ingenuity of succeeding writers, who describe the
nocturnal vision which appeared to the fancy of Constantine as
he slept within the walls of Byzantium. The tutelar genius of
the city, a venerable matron sinking under the weight of years
and infirmities, was suddenly transformed into a blooming maid,
whom his own hands adorned with all the symbols of imperial
greatness. The monarch awoke, interpreted the auspicious omen,
and obeyed without hesitation the will of Heaven.
The day
which gave birth to a city or colony was celebrated by the Ro-
mans with such ceremonies as had been ordained by a generous
superstition; and though Constantine might omit some rites which
savored too strongly of their pagan origin, yet he was anxious to
leave a deep impression of hope and respect on the minds of the
spectators. On foot, with a lance in his hand, the Emperor him-
self led the solemn procession, and directed the line which was
traced as the boundary of the destined capital; till the growing
circumference was observed with astonishment by the assistants,
who at length ventured to observe that he had already exceeded
the most ample measure of a great city. "I shall still advance,"
replied Constantine, "till HE, the invisible guide who marches
before me, thinks proper to stop. " Without presuming to inves-
tigate the nature or motives of this extraordinary conductor, we
shall content ourselves with the more humble task of describing
the extent and limits of Constantinople.
C
3
*
3
S
-


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EDWARD GIBBON
6287
In the actual state of the city, the palace and gardens of the
Seraglio occupy the eastern promontory, the first of the seven
hills, and cover about one hundred and fifty acres of our own
measure. The seat of Turkish jealousy and despotism is erected
on the foundations of a Grecian republic; but it may be supposed
that the Byzantines were tempted by the conveniency of the har-
bor to extend their habitations on that side beyond the modern
limits of the Seraglio. The new walls of Constantine stretched
from the port to the Propontis across the enlarged breadth of the
triangle, at a distance of fifteen stadia from the ancient fortifica-
tion; and with the city of Byzantium they inclosed five of the
seven hills which, to the eyes of those who approach Constanti-
nople, appear to rise above each other in beautiful order. About
a century after the death of the founder, the new buildings, ex-
tending on one side up the harbor and on the other along the
Propontis, already covered the narrow ridge of the sixth and the
broad summit of the seventh hill. The necessity of protecting
those suburbs from the incessant inroads of the barbarians en-
gaged the younger Theodosius to surround his capital with an
adequate and permanent inclosure of walls. From the eastern
promontory to the Golden Gate, the extreme length of Constanti-
nople was about three Roman miles; the circumference measured
between ten and eleven, and the surface might be computed as
equal to about two thousand English acres. It is impossible to
justify the vain and credulous exaggerations of modern travelers,
who have sometimes stretched the limits of Constantinople over
the adjacent villages of the European, and even of the Asiatic
coast. But the suburbs of Pera and Galata, though situate be-
yond the harbor, may deserve to be considered as a part of the
city; and this addition may perhaps authorize the measure of a
Byzantine historian, who assigns sixteen Greek (about fourteen
Roman) miles for the circumference of his native city. Such an
extent may not seem unworthy of an imperial residence. Yet
Constantinople must yield to Babylon and Thebes, to ancient
Rome, to London, and even to Paris.
The master of the Roman world, who aspired to erect an
eternal monument of the glories of his reign, could employ in
the prosecution of that great work the wealth, the labor, and all
that yet remained of the genius of obedient millions. Some esti-
mate may be formed of the expense bestowed with imperial lib-
erality on the foundation of Constantinople, by the allowance of


## p. 6288 (#262) ###########################################

6288
EDWARD GIBBON
about two millions five hundred thousand pounds for the con-
struction of the walls, the porticos, and the aqueducts. The
forests that overshadowed the shores of the Euxine, and the
celebrated quarries of white marble in the little island of Procon-
nesus, supplied an inexhaustible stock of materials, ready to be
conveyed, by the convenience of a short water carriage, to the
harbor of Byzantium. A multitude of laborers and artificers
urged the conclusion of the work with incessant toil; but the im-
patience of Constantine soon discovered that, in the decline of the
arts, the skill as well as numbers of his architects bore a very
unequal proportion to the greatness of his designs. The magis-
trates of the most distant provinces were therefore directed to
institute schools, to appoint professors, and by the hopes of
rewards and privileges to engage in the study and practice of
architecture a sufficient number of ingenious youths who had
received a liberal education. The buildings of the new city were
executed by such artificers as the reign of Constantine could
afford; but they were decorated by the hands of the most cele-
brated masters of the age of Pericles and Alexander. To revive
the genius of Phidias and Lysippus surpassed indeed the power
of a Roman emperor; but the immortal productions which they
had bequeathed to posterity were exposed without defense to the
rapacious vanity of a despot. By his commands the cities of
Greece and Asia were despoiled of their most valuable orna-
ments. The trophies of memorable wars, the objects of religious
veneration, the most finished statues of the gods and heroes, of
the sages and poets of ancient times, contributed to the splen-
did triumph of Constantinople, and gave occasion to the remark
of the historian Cedrenus, who observes with some enthusiasm
that nothing seemed wanting except the souls of the illustrious
men whom these admirable monuments were intended to repre-
sent. But it is not in the city of Constantine, nor in the declin-
ing period of an empire, when the human mind was depressed
by civil and religious slavery, that we should seek for the souls
of Homer and of Demosthenes.
To per-
During the siege of Byzantium, the conqueror had pitched his
tent on the commanding eminence of the second hill.
petuate the memory of his success, he chose the same advan-
tageous position for the principal Forum, which appears to have
been of a circular or rather elliptical form. The two opposite
entrances formed triumphal arches; the porticos which inclosed


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EDWARD GIBBON
6289
it on every side were filled with statues; and the centre of the
Forum was occupied by a lofty column, of which a mutilated.
fragment is now degraded by the appellation of the burnt pillar.
This column was erected on a pedestal of white marble twenty
feet high, and was composed of ten pieces of porphyry, each of
which measured about ten feet in height and about thirty-three
in circumference. On the summit of the pillar, above one hun-
dred and twenty feet from the ground, stood the colossal statue
of Apollo. It was of bronze, had been transported either from
Athens or from a town of Phrygia, and was supposed to be the
work of Phidias. The artist had represented the god of day, or
as it was afterwards interpreted, the Emperor Constantine him-
self with a sceptre in his right hand, the globe of the world in
his left, and a crown of rays glittering on his head. The Circus,
or Hippodrome, was a stately building about four hundred paces
in length and one hundred in breadth. The space between the
two mete or goals was filled with statues and obelisks; and we
may still remark a very singular fragment of antiquity — the
bodies of three serpents twisted into one pillar of brass. Their
triple heads had once supported the golden tripod which, after
the defeat of Xerxes, was consecrated in the temple of Delphi
by the victorious Greeks. The beauty of the Hippodrome has
been long since defaced by the rude hands of the Turkish con-
querors; but under the similar appellation of Atmeidan, it still
serves as a place of exercise for their horses. From the throne
whence the Emperor viewed the Circensian games, a winding
staircase descended to the palace: a magnificent edifice which
scarcely yielded to the residence of Rome itself, and which, to-
gether with the dependent courts, gardens, and porticos, covered
a considerable extent of ground upon the banks of the Propontis
between the Hippodrome and the church of St. Sophia. We
might likewise celebrate the baths, which still retained the name.
of Zeuxippus, after they had been enriched by the munificence
of Constantine with lofty columns, various marbles, and above
threescore statues of bronze. But we should deviate from the
design of this history if we attempted minutely to describe the
different buildings or quarters of the city. It may be sufficient
to observe that whatever could adorn the dignity of a great
capital, or contribute to the benefit or pleasure of its numerous
inhabitants, was contained within the walls of Constantinople.
A particular description, composed about a century after its
XI-394


## p. 6290 (#264) ###########################################

6290
EDWARD GIBBON
foundation, enumerates a capitol or school of learning, a circus,
two theatres, eight public and one hundred and fifty-three private
baths, fifty-two porticos, five granaries, eight aqueducts or reser-
voirs of water, four spacious halls for the meetings of the senate
or courts of justice, fourteen churches, fourteen palaces, and four
thousand three hundred and eighty-eight houses which for their
size or beauty deserved to be distinguished from the multitude
of plebeian habitations.
The populousness of his favored city was the next and most
serious object of the attention of its founder. In the dark ages
which succeeded the translation of the empire, the remote and
the immediate consequences of that memorable event were
strangely confounded by the vanity of the Greeks and the cre-
dulity of the Latins. It was asserted and believed that all the
noble families of Rome, the Senate, and the equestrian order,
with their innumerable attendants, had followed their Emperor
to the banks of the Propontis; that a spurious race of strangers.
and plebeians was left to possess the solitude of the ancient cap-
ital; and that the lands of Italy, long since converted into gar-
dens, were at once deprived of cultivation and inhabitants. In
the course of this history such exaggerations will be reduced to
their just value: yet, since the growth of Constantinople cannot
be ascribed to the general increase of mankind and of industry,
it must be admitted that this artificial colony was raised at the
expense of the ancient cities of the empire. Many opulent sena-
tors of Rome and of the eastern provinces were probably in-
vited by Constantine to adopt for their country the fortunate spot
which he had chosen for his own residence. The invitations of
a master are scarcely to be distinguished from commands; and
the liberality of the Emperor obtained a ready and cheerful obedi-
ence. He bestowed on his favorites the palaces which he had
built in the several quarters of the city, assigned them lands
and pensions for the support of their dignity, and alienated the
demesnes of Pontus and Asia to grant hereditary estates by the
easy tenure of maintaining a house in the capital. But these
encouragements and obligations soon became superfluous, and
were gradually abolished. Wherever the seat of government
is fixed, a considerable part of the public revenue will be ex-
pended by the prince himself, by his ministers, by the officers of
justice, and by the domestics of the palace. The most wealthy
of the provincials will be attracted by the powerful motives


## p. 6291 (#265) ###########################################

EDWARD GIBBON
6291
of interest and duty, of amusement and curiosity. A third and
more numerous class of inhabitants will insensibly be formed,
of servants, of artificers, and of merchants, who derive their sub-
sistence from their own labor and from the wants or luxury of
the superior ranks. In less than a century Constantinople dis-
puted with Rome itself the pre-eminence of riches and numbers.
New piles of buildings, crowded together with too little regard to
health or convenience, scarcely allowed the intervals of narrow
streets for the perpetual throng of men, of horses, and of car-
riage The allotted space of ground was insufficient to contain
the increasing people; and the additional foundations, which on
either side were advanced into the sea, might alone have com-
posed a very considerable city.
The frequent and regular distributions of wine and oil, of
corn or bread, of money or provisions, had almost exempted the
poorer citizens of Rome from the necessity of labor. The mag-
nificence of the first Cæsars was in some measure imitated by the
founder of Constantinople; but his liberality, however it might
excite the applause of the people, has incurred the censure of
posterity. A nation of legislators and conquerors might assert
their claim to the harvests of Africa, which had been purchased
with their blood; and it was artfully contrived by Augustus that
in the enjoyment of plenty the Romans should lose the memory
of freedom. But the prodigality of Constantine could not be ex-
cused by any consideration either of public or private interest;
and the annual tribute of corn imposed upon Egypt for the ben-
efit of his new capital was applied to feed a lazy and insolent
populace at the expense of the husbandmen of an industrious
province. Some other regulations of this Emperor are less liable
to blame, but they are less deserving of notice. He divided
Constantinople into fourteen regions or quarters, dignified the
public council with the appellation of senate, communicated to
the citizens the privileges of Italy, and bestowed on the rising
city the title of colony, the first and most favored daughter of
ancient Rome. The venerable parent still maintained the legal
and acknowledged supremacy which was due to her age, her
dignity, and to the remembrance of her former greatness.
As Constantine urged the progress of the work with the im-
patience of a lover, the walls, the porticos, and the principal edi-
fices were completed in a few years, or according to another
account, in a few months; but this extraordinary diligence should


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6292
EDWARD GIBBON
excite the less admiration, since many of the buildings were
finished in so hasty and imperfect a manner that under the suc-
ceeding reign they were preserved with difficulty from impending
ruin. But while they displayed the vigor and freshness of youth,
the founder prepared to celebrate the dedication of his city. The
games and largesses which crowned the pomp of this memorable
festival may easily be supposed; but there is one circumstance of
a more singular and permanent nature which ought not entirely
to be overlooked. As often as the birthday of the city returned,
the statue of Constantine, framed by his order, of gilt wood, and
bearing in its right hand a small image of the genius of the
place, was erected on a triumphal car. The guards, carrying
white tapers and clothed in their richest apparel, accompanied the
solemn procession as it moved through the Hippodrome. When
it was opposite to the throne of the reigning emperor, he rose
from his seat, and with grateful reverence adored the memory
of his predecessor. At the festival of the dedication an edict,
engraved on a column of marble, bestowed the title of SECOND
or NEW ROME on the city of Constantine. But the name of Con-
stantinople has prevailed over that honorable epithet, and after
the revolution of fourteen centuries still perpetuates the fame of
its author.
CHARACTER OF CONSTANTINE
THE
HE character of the prince who removed the seat of empire,
and introduced such important changes into the civil and
religious constitution of his country, has fixed the attention
and divided the opinions of mankind. By the grateful zeal of
the Christians, the deliverer of the Church has been decorated
with every attribute of a hero and even of a saint, while the
discontent of the vanquished party has compared Constantine to
the most abhorred of those tyrants who by their vice and weak-
ness dishonored the imperial purple. The same passions have
in some degree been perpetuated to succeeding generations, and
the character of Constantine is considered, even in the present
age, as an object either of satire or of panegyric. By the impar-
tial union of those defects which are confessed by his warmest
admirers, and of those virtues which are acknowledged by his
most implacable enemies, we might hope to delineate a just


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EDWARD GIBBON
6293
portrait of that extraordinary man which the truth and candor
of history should adopt without a blush. But it would soon ap-
pear, that the vain attempt to blend such discordant colors and
to reconcile such inconsistent qualities must produce a figure
monstrous rather than human, unless it is viewed in its proper
and distinct lights, by a careful separation of the different periods
of the reign of Constantine.
The person as well as the mind of Constantine had been
enriched by nature with her choicest endowments. His stature
was lofty, his countenance majestic, his deportment graceful, his
strength and activity were displayed in every manly exercise, and
from his earliest youth to a very advanced season of life he pre-
served the vigor of his constitution by a strict adherence to the
domestic virtues of chastity and temperance. He delighted in
the social intercourse of familiar conversation; and though he
might sometimes indulge his disposition to raillery with less
reserve than was required by the severe dignity of his station,
the courtesy and liberality of his manners gained the hearts of
all who approached him. The sincerity of his friendship has
been suspected; yet he showed on some occasions that he was
not incapable of a warm and lasting attachment. The disadvan-
tage of an illiterate education had not prevented him from form-
ing a just estimate of the value of learning; and the arts and
sciences derived some encouragement from the munificent pro-
tection of Constantine. In the dispatch of business, his dili
gence was indefatigable; and the active powers of his mind were.
almost continually exercised in reading, writing, or meditating,
in giving audience to ambassadors, and in examining the com-
plaints of his subjects. Even those who censured the propriety
of his measures were compelled to acknowledge that he pos-
sessed magnanimity to conceive and patience to execute the
most arduous designs, without being checked either by the preju-
dices of education or by the clamors of the multitude. In the
field he infused his own intrepid spirit into the troops, whom he
conducted with the talents of a consummate general; and to his
abilities, rather than to his fortune, we may ascribe the signal
victories which he obtained over the foreign and domestic foes
of the republic. He loved glory as the reward, perhaps as the
motive, of his labors. The boundless ambition which, from the
moment of his accepting the purple at York, appears as the rul
ing passion of his soul, may be justified by the dangers of his


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6294
EDWARD GIBBON
own situation, by the character of his rivals, by the consciousness
of superior merit, and by the prospect that his success would
enable him to restore peace and order to the distracted empire.
In his civil wars against Maxentius and Licinius he had engaged
on his side the inclinations of the people, who compared the un-
dissembled vices of those tyrants with the spirit of wisdom and
justice which seemed to direct the general tenor of the adminis-
tration of Constantine.
Had Constantine fallen on the banks of the Tiber, or even in
the plains of Hadrianople, such is the character which, with a few
exceptions, he might have transmitted to posterity. But the con-
clusion of his reign (according to the moderate and indeed ten-
der sentence of a writer of the same age) degraded him from the
rank which he had acquired among the most deserving of the
Roman princes. In the life of Augustus we behold the tyrant
of the republic converted, almost by imperceptible degrees, into
the father of his country and of human kind. In that of Con-
stantine we may contemplate a hero who had so long inspired
his subjects with love and his enemies with terror, degenerating
into a cruel and dissolute monarch, corrupted by his fortune or
raised by conquest above the necessity of dissimulation. The
general peace which he maintained during the last fourteen years
of his reign was a period of apparent splendor rather than of
real prosperity; and the old age of Constantine was disgraced by
the opposite yet reconcilable vices of rapaciousness and prodigal-
ity. The accumulated treasures found in the palaces of Maxen-
tius and Licinius were lavishly consumed; the various innovations
introduced by the conqueror were attended with an increasing
expense; the cost of his buildings, his court, and his festivals
required an immediate and plentiful supply; and the oppression
of the people was the only fund which could support the mag-
nificence of the sovereign. His unworthy favorites, enriched by
the boundless liberality of their master, usurped with impunity
the privilege of rapine and corruption. A secret but universal
decay was felt in every part of the public administration; and
the Emperor himself, though he still retained the obedience,
gradually lost the esteem of his subjects. The dress and man-
ners which towards the decline of life he chose to affect, served
only to degrade him in the eyes of mankind.
The Asiatic pomp
which had been adopted by the pride of Diocletian assumed an
air of softness and effeminacy in the person of Constantine. He is


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EDWARD GIBBON
6295
represented with false hair of various colors, laboriously arranged
by the skillful artists of the times; a diadem of a new and more
expensive fashion; a profusion of gems and pearls, of collars and
bracelets, and a variegated flowing robe of silk, most curiously
embroidered with flowers of gold. In such apparel, scarcely to
be excused by the youth and folly of Elagabulus, we are at a
loss to discover the wisdom of an aged monarch and the simpli-
city of a Roman veteran. A mind thus relaxed by prosperity and
indulgence was incapable of rising to that magnanimity which
disdains suspicion and dares to forgive. The deaths of Max-
imian and Licinius may perhaps be justified by the maxims of
policy as they are taught in the schools of tyrants; but an im-
partial narrative of the executions, or rather murders, which sul-
lied the declining age of Constantine, will suggest to our most
candid thoughts the idea of a prince who could sacrifice without
reluctance the laws of justice and the feelings of nature, to the
dictates either of his passions or of his interest.
The same fortune which so invariably followed the standard
of Constantine seemed to secure the hopes and comforts of his
domestic life. Those among his predecessors who had enjoyed
the longest and most prosperous reigns, Augustus, Trajan, and
Diocletian, had been disappointed of posterity; and the frequent
revolutions had never allowed sufficient time for any imperial fam-
ily to grow up and multiply under the shade of the purple. But
the royalty of the Flavian line, which had been first ennobled by
the Gothic Claudius, descended through several generations; and
Constantine himself derived from his royal father the hereditary
honors which he transmitted to his children. The Emperor had
been twice married. Minervina, the obscure but lawful object of
his youthful attachment, had left him only one son, who was
called Crispus. By Fausta, the daughter of Maximian, he had
three daughters, and three sons known by the kindred names
of Constantine, Constantius, and Constans. The unambitious
brothers of the great Constantine, Julius Constantius, Dalmatius,
and Hannibalianus, were permitted to enjoy the most honorable
rank and the most affluent fortune that could be consistent with
a private station. The youngest of the three lived without a
name and died without posterity. His two elder brothers ob-
tained in marriage the daughters of wealthy senators, and propa-
gated new branches of the imperial race. Gallus and Julian
afterwards became the most illustrious of the children of Julius


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6296
EDWARD GIBBON
Constantius the Patrician. The two sons of Dalmatius, who
had been decorated with the vain title of censor, were named
Dalmatius and Hannibalianus. The two sisters of the great
Constantine, Anastasia and Eutropia, were bestowed on Optatus
and Nepotianus, two senators of noble birth and of consular dig-
nity. His third sister, Constantia, was distinguished by her pre-
eminence of greatness and of misery. She remained the widow
of the vanquished Licinius; and it was by her entreaties that
an innocent boy, the offspring of their marriage, preserved for
some time his life, the title of Cæsar, and a precarious hope of
the succession. Besides the females and the allies of the Fla-
vian house, ten or twelve males to whom the language of modern
courts would apply the title of princes of the blood, seemed,
according to the order of their birth, to be destined either to in-
herit or to support the throne of Constantine. But in less than
thirty years this numerous and increasing family was reduced
to the persons of Constantius and Julian, who alone had survived.
a series of crimes and calamities such as the tragic poets have
deplored in the devoted lines of Pelops and of Cadmus.
DEATH OF JULIAN
W
HILE Julian struggled with the almost insuperable difficul-
ties of his situation, the silent hours of the night were
still devoted to study and contemplation. Whenever he
closed his eyes in short and interrupted slumbers, his mind was
agitated with painful anxiety; nor can it be thought surprising
that the Genius of the Empire should once more appear be-
fore him, covering with a funeral veil his head and his horn of
abundance, and slowly retiring from the imperial tent. The
monarch started from his couch, and stepping forth to refresh
his wearied spirits with the coolness of the midnight air, he be-
held a fiery meteor which shot athwart the sky and suddenly
vanished. Julian was convinced that he had seen the menacing
countenance of the god of war; the council which he summoned
of Tuscan Haruspices unanimously pronounced that he should
abstain from action; but on this occasion necessity and reason
were more prevalent than superstition, and the trumpets sounded.
at the break of day. The army marched through a hilly coun-
try, and the hills had been secretly occupied by the Persians.


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EDWARD GIBBON
6297
Julian led the van with the skill and attention of a consummate
general; he was alarmed by the intelligence that his rear was
suddenly attacked. The heat of the weather had tempted him
to lay aside his cuirass; but he snatched a shield from one of his
attendants and hastened with a sufficient reinforcement to the
relief of the rear guard. A similar danger recalled the intrepid
prince to the defense of the front; and as he galloped between
the columns, the centre of the left was attacked and almost
overpowered by a furious charge of the Persian cavalry and ele-
phants. This huge body was soon defeated by the well-timed
evolution of the light infantry, who aimed their weapons, with
dexterity and effect, against the backs of the horsemen and the
legs of the elephants. The Barbarians fled; and Julian, who was
foremost in every danger, animated the pursuit with his voice
and gestures.
His trembling guards, scattered and oppressed
by the disorderly throng of friends and enemies, reminded their
fearless sovereign that he was without armor, and conjured him.
to decline the fall of the impending ruin. As they exclaimed, a
cloud of darts and arrows was discharged from the flying squad-
rons; and a javelin, after razing the skin of his arm, transpierced
the ribs and fixed in the inferior part of the liver. Julian at-
tempted to draw the deadly weapon from his side, but his fingers
were cut by the sharpness of the steel, and he fell senseless
from his horse. His guards flew to his relief, and the wounded
Emperor was gently raised from the ground and conveyed out
of the tumult of the battle into an adjacent tent. The report of
the melancholy event passed from rank to rank; but the grief
of the Romans inspired them with invincible valor and the
desire of revenge. The bloody and obstinate conflict was main-
tained by the two armies till they were separated by the total
darkness of the night. The Persians derived some honor from
the advantage which they obtained against the left wing, where
Anatolius, master of the offices, was slain, and the præfect Sal-
lust very narrowly escaped. But the event of the day was
adverse to the Barbarians. They abandoned the field, their two
generals Meranes and Nohordates, fifty nobles or satraps, and
a multitude of their bravest soldiers; and the success of the
Romans, if Julian had survived, might have been improved into
a decisive and useful victory.
The first words that Julian uttered after his recovery from
the fainting fit into which he had been thrown by loss of blood,


## p. 6298 (#272) ###########################################

6298
EDWARD GIBBON
were expressive of his martial spirit. He called for his horse
and arms, and was impatient to rush into the battle.
His re-
maining strength was exhausted by the painful effort, and the
surgeons who examined his wound discovered the symptoms of
approaching death. He employed the awful moments with the
firm temper of a hero and a sage; the philosophers who had
accompanied him in this fatal expedition compared the tent of
Julian with the prison of Socrates; and the spectators whom
duty or friendship or curiosity had assembled round his couch
listened with respectful grief to the funeral oration of their dying
emperor: "Friends and fellow soldiers, the seasonable period of
my departure is now arrived, and I discharge, with the cheerful-
ness of a ready debtor, the demands of nature. I have learned
from philosophy how much the soul is more excellent than the
body; and that the separation of the nobler substance should be
the subject of joy rather than of affliction. I have learned from
religion that an earthly death has often been the reward of piety;
and I accept, as a favor of the gods, the mortal stroke that
secures me from the danger of disgracing a character which has
hitherto been supported by virtue and fortitude. I die without
remorse, as I have lived without guilt. I am pleased to reflect
on the innocence of my private life; and I can affirm with confi-
dence that the supreme authority, that emanation of the Divine
power, has been preserved in my hands pure and immaculate.
Detesting the corrupt and destructive maxims of despotism, I
have considered the happiness of the people as the end of gov-
ernment. Submitting my actions to the laws of prudence, of
justice, and of moderation, I have trusted the event to the care
of Providence. Peace was the object of my counsels as long
as peace was consistent with the public welfare; but when the
imperious voice of my country summoned me to arms, I exposed
my person to the dangers of war with the clear foreknowledge
(which I had acquired from the art of divination) that I was des-
tined to fall by the sword. I now offer my tribute of gratitude
to the Eternal Being, who has not suffered me to perish by the
cruelty of a tyrant, by the secret dagger of conspiracy, or by the
slow tortures of lingering disease. He has given me, in the midst
of an honorable career, a splendid and glorious departure from
this world; and I hold it equally absurd, equally base, to solicit
or to decline the stroke of fate. Thus much I have attempted to
say; but my strength fails me, and I feel the approach of death.
-
!
"
·
"
"1


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EDWARD GIBBON
6299
I shall cautiously refrain from any word that may tend to influ-
ence your suffrages in the election of an emperor. My choice
might be imprudent or injudicious; and if it should not be rati-
fied by the consent of the army, it might be fatal to the per-
son whom I should recommend. I shall only, as a good citizen,
express my hopes that the Romans may be blessed with the
government of a virtuous sovereign. " After this discourse, which
Julian pronounced in a firm and gentle tone of voice, he distrib-
uted by a military testament the remains of his private fortune;
and making some inquiry why Anatolius was not present, he
understood from the answer of Sallust that Anatolius was killed,
and bewailed with amiable inconsistency the loss of his friend.
At the same time he reproved the immoderate grief of the spec-
tators, and conjured them not to disgrace by unmanly tears the
fate of a prince who in a few moments would be united with
heaven and with the stars. The spectators were silent; and
Julian entered into a metaphysical argument with the philoso-
phers Priscus and Maximus on the nature of the soul. The
efforts which he made, of mind as well as body, most probably
hastened his death. His wound began to bleed with fresh vio-
lence; his respiration was embarrassed by the swelling of the
veins; he called for a draught of cold water, and as soon as he
had drunk it expired without pain, about the hour of midnight.
Such was the end of that extraordinary man, in the thirty-second
year of his age, after a reign of one year and about eight months
from the death of Constantius. In his last moments he displayed,
perhaps with some ostentation, the love of virtue and of fame
which had been the ruling passions of his life.
THE FALL OF ROME
Α΄
T THE hour of midnight the Salarian gate was silently opened,
and the inhabitants were awakened by the tremendous sound
of the Gothic trumpet. Eleven hundred and sixty-three
years after the foundation of Rome, the imperial city which had
subdued and civilized so considerable a part of mankind was
delivered to the licentious fury of the tribes of Germany and
Scythia.
The proclamation of Alaric, when he forced his entrance into
a vanquished city, discovered however some regard for the laws


## p. 6300 (#274) ###########################################

6300
EDWARD GIBBON
of humanity and religion. He encouraged his troops boldly to
seize the rewards of valor, and to enrich themselves with the
spoils of a wealthy and effeminate people; but he exhorted them
at the same time to spare the lives of the unresisting citizens, and
to respect the churches of the apostles St. Peter and St.