arose nought remained of either but the works of genius they had produced, and the deeds of glory they had done. The wonders of Napoleon's reign faded as rapidly as the triumphs of the Macedonian Conqueror; and the distant lustre of Babylon and Nineveh is faintly recalled by the ephemeral dynasties which have arisen, under the pressure of Arabian or Mogul conquest, in the regions of the East in modern times. But, in the Roman annals, a different and mightier system developes itself. From the infancy of the republic, from the days even of the kings, and the fabulous reigns of Romulus and Numa, an unbroken progress is exhibited, which never experienced a permanent reverse till the eagles of the Republic had crossed the Euphrates, and all the civilised world, from the wall of Antoninus to the foot of Mount Atlas, was subjected to their arms. Their reverses, equally with their triumphs their defeats, equally with their victories—their infant struggles with the cities of Latium, not less than their later contests with Carthage and Mithridates-contributed to develope their strength, and may be regarded as the direct causes of their dominion. It was in the long wars with the Etruscan and Samnite communities that the discipline and tactics were slowly and painfully acquired, which enabled them to face the banded strength of the Carthaginian confederacy, and in the desperate struggle with Hannibal that the resolution and skill were drawn forth which so soon, on its termination, gave them the em pire of the world. The durability of the fabric was in proportion to the tardiness of its growth, and the solidity of its materials. The twelve vultures which Romulus beheld on the Palatine Hill were emblematic of the twelve centuries which beheld the existence of the empire of the West; and it required a thousand years more of corruption and decline to extinguish in the East this brilliant empire, which, regenerated by the genius of Constantine, found, in the riches and matchless situation of Byzantium, a counterpoise to all the effeminacy of Oriental manners, and all the ferocity of the Scythian tribes.

It is remarkable that time has not yet produced a history of this wonderful people commensurate either to

their dignity, their importance, or their intimate connexion with modern institutions. The pictured pages and matchless descriptions of Livy, indeed, will, to the end of the world, fascinate the imagination and subdue the hearts of men; but it is a fragment only of his great work which has descended to our times; and even when complete, it came down only to the time of Augustus, and broke off exactly at the period when nations, arrived at the stage of existence to which we have grown, are most interested in its continuance. The condensed wisdom, energetic expressions, and practical experience of Sallust and Tacitus, apply only to detached periods of the later annals; and, though not a page of their immortal works can be read without suggesting reflections on the extraordinary political sagacity which they had acquired from experience, or received from nature, yet we shall look in vain, in the fragments of this work which have survived the wreck of time, for a connected detail even of the later periods of Roman story. The moderns appear to have been deterred, by the exquisite beauty of these fragments of ancient history, from adventuring at all on the same field. Ferguson's is considered by the English, and admitted by the Germans, to be the best connected history of the Republic which exists; but not only does it embrace merely, with adequate fulness, the period from the rise of the Gracchi to the ascent of the throne by Augustus, but it does not contain the views, nor is it dictated by the practical acquaintance with human affairs, which is necessary for a real history of Roman policy. The Scotch professor has, with much ability, illustrated the contests of Sylla and Marius, of Cæsar and Pompey; but he lived in a pacific age, amidst the unbroken seclusion of an academical life, and, consequently, could not possibly attain those clear and decisive views of the tendency and springs of action, in civil contests, which are brought home to the minds of the most illiterate by the storms and crimes of a revolution.

Niebuhr is universally allowed to have opened a new era in the early history of the Republic. Before his time historians were content with adopting, without examination, the legends which, in the Roman annals, passed for the narrative of real events,

and, despairing of adding any thing to their beauty, simply presented their readers with a translation of Livy and Dionysius. Dissatisfied with such a mode of recording the progress of so celebrated a people, Ferguson rejected the early legends altogether, and passing, in the most cursory manner, over the first five hundred years of Roman story, professed himself unable to discover firm historic ground till he came down to the second Punic War. But neither of these methods of treating the subject suited the searching eye and inquisitive mind of the German historian. Possessed of extraordinary learning, and a matchless faculty of drawing, with intuitive sagacity, important historical and political conclusions from detached and, to ordinary observers, unmeaning details of subordinate historians, he has contrived to rear up from comparatively authentic data, a veracious picture of the early Roman annals. Instead of rejecting in despair the whole history prior to the invasion of the Gauls as a mass of fables, erected by the vanity of Patrician families, and adopted by the credulity of an uninformed people, he has succeeded in supporting a large portion of those annals by unquestionable evidence; and stripping it only, in some parts, of those colours which the eloquence of Livy has rendered immortal, for the improvement and delight of mankind. It is a common reproach against this great antiquary, that he has overthrown the whole early history of Rome; but no reproach was ever more unfounded. In truth, as Dr Arnold has justly observed, it must be evident to every one acquainted with the subject, that he has built up much more than he has destroyed, and fixed on firmer historic grounds a vast deal which the inquisitive eye of modern scepticism was inclined to lay aside as entirely fictitious. No stronger proof of this can be desired than is to be found in the fact, that, while Ferguson began his history as authentic only with the exploits of Hannibal, Niebuhr has deemed it certain that historical truth is to be found not only under the kings, but so early as Æneas Martius.

It is inconceivable, indeed, how it ever could have been seriously believed that the annals of the kings were entirely fictitious, when the Cloaca Maxima still exists, a durable monument both of the grandeur of conception and

power of execution which at that early period had distinguished the Roman people. Two thousand five hundred years have elapsed since this stupendous work was executed, to drain the waters of the Forum and adjacent hollows to the Tiber; and there it stands at this day, without a stone displaced, still performing its destined service! Do any of the edifices of Paris or London promise an equal duration? From the moment that we beheld that magnificent structure, formed of the actual stone of the eternal city, all doubts as to the authenticity of Roman annals, so far, at least, as they portray a powerful flourishing kingdom anterior to the Republic, vanished from our minds. If nothing else remained to attest the greatness of the kings at this period but the Cloaca Maxima and the treaty with Carthage in the first year of the Republic, it would be sufficient to demonstrate that the basis of the early history of the kings was to be found in real events. And this Niebuhr, after the most minute and critical examination, has declared to be his conviction.

The

Doubtless, the same historic evidence does not exist for the romantic and captivating part of early Roman history. We cannot assert that we have good evidence that Romulus fought, or that Numa prayed; that Ancus conquered, or that Tarquin oppressed; that the brethren of the Horatii saved their country, or Curtius leaped headlong into the gulf in the Forum. exquisite story of Lucretia; the heartstirring legend of Corioli; the invasion of Porsenna, the virtue of Cincinnatus, the siege of Veiæ, the deliverance of Camillus, are probably all founded in some degree on real events, but have come down to our times glowing with the genius of the ancient historians, and gilded by the colours which matchless eloquence has communicated to the additions with which the fondness of national or family vanity had clothed the artless narrative of early times. Simplicity is the invariable characteristic of the infancy of the world. Homer and Job are often in the highest degree both pathetic and sublime; but they are so just because they are utterly unconscious of any such merits, and aimed only at the recital of real events. The glowing pages and beautiful episodes of Livy are as evidently subsequent additions as the

of description, and the discriminating eye, which, touching on every subject, brings those prominently forward only which, from their intrinsic importance, should attract the attention of the reader. He works out every thing with equal care and minuteness, and, in consequence, the impression produced on the mind of an ordinary reader is so confused, as to amount almost to nothing. Like Pevele or Waterloo, in the imitation of nature (and landscape-painting, and historical description in this particular are governed by the same principles), he works out the details of each individual object with admirable skill; but there is no breadth or general effect on his canvass, and he wants the general shade and subdued tones, which in Claude, amidst an infinity of details, not less faithfully portrayed, rivet the eye of the spectator on a few brilliant spots, and produce on the mind even of the most unskilled the charm of a single emotion.

Niebuhr's history, however, with all its merits and defects, comes only down to the commencement of the most important era in the annals of the Republic. It is in the empire that the great want of continued annals is felt. Literally speaking, there is nothing, either in ancient or modern literature, which deserves the name of a history of the whole period of the Emperors. Tillemont has, with unwearied industry and admirable accuracy, collected all that the inimitable fragments of Tacitus, and detached lights of Seutonius, Florus, and the panegyrists have left on this vast subject; and Gibbon has, with incom. parable talent, thrown, in his first chapters, over the general conditions of the empire, the light of his genius and the colouring of his eloquence. But Tillemont, though a laborious and valuable compiler, is no historian; if any one doubts this, let him take up one of his elaborate quartos and try to read it. Gibbon, in his immortal work, the greatest monument of historical industry and ability that exists in the world, has given a most luminous view of the events which led to the decline and fall of the empire, and erected, with consummate talent, a bridge across the gulf which separates ancient from modern story. But he begins only to narrate events with any minuteness at the period

when the empire had already attained to its highest elevation; he dismisses in a few pages the conquests of Trajan, the wisdom of Nerva, the beneficence of Marcus Aurelius, and enters into detail for the first time when the blind partiality of Marcus Antoninus, and the guilt of his empress, had prepared, in the accession and vices of Commodus, the commencement of that long series of depraved emperors who brought about the ruin of the empire. What do we know of the conquests of Trajan, the wars of Severus, the victories of Aurelian? Would that the pencil of the author of the Decline and Fall had thrown over them the brilliant light which it has shed over the disasters of Julian, the storming of Constantinople, the conquests of Mahomet, or the obstinate wars of the Byzantine emperors with the Parthian princes. But his history embraces so vast a range of objects, that it could not satisfy our curiosity on the annals even of the people who formed the centre of the far-extended group, and it is rather a picture of the progress of the nations who overthrew Rome, than of Rome itself.

There is ample room, therefore, for a great historical work, as voluminous and as eloquent as Gibbon, on the Rise and Progress of Roman greatness; and it embraces topics of far more importance, in the present age of the world, than the succession of disasters and fierce barbarian inroads which long shook, and at last overturned the enduring fabric of the empire. Except as a matter of curiosity, we have little connexion with the progress of the Gothic and Scythian nations. Christianity has turned the rivers of barbarism by their source; civilisation has overspread the wilds of Scythia; gunpowder and fortified towns have given knowledge a durable superiority over ignorance; Russia stands as an impenetrable barrier between Europe and the Tartar horse. But the evils which the Roman institutions contained in their own bosom, as well as the deeds of glory and extent of dominion to which they led, interest us in the most vital particulars. Our institutions more closely resemble theirs than those of any other people recorded in history, and the causes which have led to the vast extent of our dominion and durability of our power, are the same which gave them

for centuries the empire of the world. The same causes of weakness, also, are now assailing us which once destroyed them; we, too, have wealth imported from all parts of the world to corrupt our manners, and an overgrown metropolis to spread the seeds of vice and effeminacy, as from a common centre, over the length and breadth of the land; we, too, have patricians striving to retain power handed down to them by their ancestors, and plebeians burning with the desire of distinction, and the passion for political elevation which springs from the spread of wealth among the middle classes; we, too, have Gracchi ready to hoist the standard of disunion by raising the question of the Agrarian law, and Syllas and Mariuses to rear their hostile banners at the head of the aristocratic and democratic factions; in the womb of time, is provided for us as for them, the final overthrow of our liberties, under the successful leader of the popular party, and long ages of decline under the despotic rule imposed upon us by the blind ambition and Eastern equality of the people. A fair and philosophic history of Rome, therefore, is a subject of incalculable importance to the citizens of this, and of every other constitutional monarchy; in their errors we may discern the mirror of our own-in their misfortunes the prototypes of those we are likely to undergo in their fate, that which, in all human probability, awaits ourselves.

Such a history never, in modern times, could have been written but at this period. All subsequent ages, from the days of Cicero, have been practically ignorant of the very elements of political knowledge requisite for a right understanding or fair discussion of the subject. In vain were the les sons of political wisdom to be found profusely scattered through the Roman historians-in vain did Sallust and Tacitus point, by a word or an epithet, to the important conclusions deducible from their civil convulsions; -the practical experience, the daily intercourse with Republican institutions were awanting, which were necessary to give the due weight to their reflections. The lessons of political wisdom were so constantly brought home to the citizens of antiquity by the storms and dissensions of the Fo

rum, that they deemed it unnecessary to do more than allude to them, as a subject on which all were agreed, and with which every one was familiar. Like first principles in our House of Commons, they were universally taken for granted, and, therefore, never made the theme of serious illustration. It is now only that we begin to perceive the weighty sense and condensed wisdom of many expressions which dropped seemingly unconsciously from their historical writers, that dearbought experience has taught us that pride, insolency, and corrupt principle are the main sources of popular ambition in our times, as in the days of Catiline; and that the saying of Johnson ceases to pass for a witty paradox, that "Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel."

Dr Arnold has now fairly set himself to work with this noble task, and he is, in many respects, peculiarly fitted for the undertaking. Long known to the classical world as an accomplished scholar, and the learned editor of the best edition of Thucydides extant, he is still more familiar to many of our readers as the energetic headmaster of Rugby school; and is to this hour looked up to with mingled sentiments of awe and affection by many of the most celebrated characters of the age. The first volume of the great work in which he is engaged alone is published, which brings down the history of the Republic to the burning of Rome by the Goths, but it affords a fair specimen of the spirit and ability with which the remainder is likely to be carried on. In many respects he has shown himself admirably calculated for the great but difficult task which he has undertaken. His classical attainments, both in Greek and Roman literature, are of the very highest order; his industry is indefatigable, and he possesses much of that instinctive glance or natural sagacity which enabled Niebuhr, amidst the fictions and chaos of ancient anuals, to fix at once on the outlines of truth and the course of real events. His powers of description are of no ordinary kind, as our readers will at once perceive from the extracts we are about to lay before them; and many of his reflections prove that he is endowed with that faculty of drawing general conclusions from particular events, which, when not pushed too