[]THE HISTORY OF GREECE.

CHAP. I. From the Death of SOCRATES to the Death of EPAMINONDAS.

HITHER TO we have purſued the Athe⯑nians, both in their ſucceſſes and their defeats, with peculiar attention: while they took the lead in the affairs of Greece, it was neceſſary to place them on the fore ground of the picture; but now we muſt change the ſcene; and, leaving the Athenians acting an obſcure part, go to thoſe ſtates who ſucceſſively took the lead after their downfal.

[2] Sparta ſeems to be the firſt ſtate now that gave laws to the reſt of the Greeks; their old jealouſies began to revive againſt the petty ſtates that had formerly ſided againſt them: and the Eleans were the firſt upon whom they fell, under a pretence that they were not ad⯑mitted by that ſtate to the Olympic games as well as the reſt of the Grecians. Having for⯑merly declared war, and being upon the point of plundering the city of Elis, they were taken into the alliance of Sparta, and the conquerors now aſſumed and enjoyed the title of the Protectors and Arbitrators of Greece. Soon after, Age⯑ſilaus, who was choſen king of Sparta, was ſent into Aſia with an army, under pretence of freeing the Grecian cities: he gained a ſignal victory over Tiſſaphernes, near the river Pactolus, where he forced the enemy's camp, and found conſiderable plunder. This ſucceſs induced the Perſian monarch, inſtead of meet⯑ing Ageſilaus openly in the field, to ſubvert his intereſt among the Grecian ſtates by the power of bribery; and indeed this confede⯑racy was now ſo weakened, its concord and unanimity ſo totally deſtroyed, that they were open to every offer: the love of money was now rooted in their affections; and the Spar⯑tans were the only people that, for a while, [3] ſeemed to diſdain it: but the contagion ſtill ſpreading, even they, at laſt, yielded to its al⯑lurements; and every man ſought private emo⯑lument, without attending to the good of his country.

The Thebans, as they were the firſt gained over to the Perſian intereſt, ſo they were the moſt active in promoting it. To ſtrengthen their alliance, they ſent ambaſſadors to the Athe⯑nians, with a long repreſentation of the preſent poſture of affairs, wherein they artfully inſinua⯑ted their zeal and affection to their ſtate; from thence they took occaſion to inveigh againſt the tyranny of Sparta; and concluded with telling them, that now was the time to throw off the yoke, and to recover their former ſplen⯑dor and authority. The Athenians, though they had no ſhare of the Perſian money, needed not many arguments to engage them in a rupture of this kind, for which they had been long waiting a fit opportunity.

Ageſilaus, who had carried on the war in Perſia with ſucceſs, received news of the war being again broke out in Greece, with orders, at the ſame time, for him to return home. He had ſet his heart upon the entire conqueſt of Per⯑ſia, and was preparing to march farther into the country; but ſuch was his deference to the laws, [4] and ſuch his ſubmiſſion to the Ephori, that he inſtantly obeyed their mandate; but left four thouſand men in Aſia to maintain his ſucceſſes there. The Spartans, however, could not wait his arrival; they found confederacies thicken on their hands, and they were ready to be at⯑tacked on all ſides. The Athenians, Argives, Thebans, Corinthians, and Eubaeans joined againſt them, and made up a body of twenty-four thouſand men; both ſides encamped near Sicyon, at a ſmall diſtance from each other; and ſoon came to a regular engagement. The Spartan allies at firſt were entirely routed; but the Spartans themſelves turned the ſcale of victory by their ſingle valour, and came off conquerors with the loſs of but eight men. This victory, however, was in ſome meaſure overbalanced by a loſs at ſea, which the Spartans ſuſtained near Cnidus. Conon, the Athenian General, being appointed to com⯑mand the Perſian fleet againſt them, took fifty of their ſhips, and purſued the reſt into port. Ageſilaus, on the other hand, gained a conſiderable victory over the Athenians and their allies upon the plains of Coronea. Thus was the war continued by furious but unde⯑ciſive engagements, in which neither ſide was a gainer; and in this manner did the Spartans [5] maintain themſelves and their allies, without any conſiderable increaſe or diminution of their power. In this general ſhock, the Athenians ſeemed for a while to recover their former ſpi⯑rit; being aſſiſted by Perſian money, and con⯑ducted by Conon, an excellent general, they took the field with ardour, and even rebuilt the walls of their city. From the mutual jealou⯑ſies of theſe petty ſtates among each other, all were weakened, and the Perſian monarch be⯑came arbitrator of Greece. In this manner, after a fluctuation of ſucceſſes and intrigues, all par⯑ties began to grow tired of a war, and a peace enſued: this peace was concluded in the ſecond year of the 98th Olympiad; and from the many ſtipulations in favour of Perſia, Plutarch terms it, The reproach and ruin of Greece.

The Spartans, thus freed from the terrors of a powerful foreign enemy, went on to ſpread terror among the petty ſtates of Greece: they gave peremptory orders to the Mantineans to throw down their walls, and compelled them to obedience. They obliged the Corinthians to withdraw the garriſon from Argoſi; and ſome other little ſtates they treated with an air of ſuperiority that plainly marked, that they expected obedience. They marched againſt the Olynthians, who had lately grown [6] into power, and effectually ſubdued them. They interpoſed alſo in a domeſtic quarrel which was carried on at Thebes. Phaebidas having ſeized upon the citadel, they turned him out, and placed a garriſon of their own in that fortreſs. They then procured arti⯑cles to be exhibited againſt Iſmenias his an⯑tagoniſt, for having taken money of the Per⯑ſians, and holding intelligence with them; and for having been a principal promoter of their inteſtine broils: upon which he underwent a formal trial before the commiſſioners de⯑puted from Sparta; and one from each of the other great cities of Greece, and was condemn⯑ed to death. Thus, having ſecured Thebes, and having by a tedious war humbled the Olyn⯑thians, they went on to chaſtiſe the Phliaſians for having abuſed ſome exiles that had been reſtored by the orders of Sparta. In this man⯑ner they continued diſtributing their orders with pride and ſeverity; no ſtate of Greece was able to oppoſe their authority; and under the co⯑lour of executing juſtice, they were hourly pa⯑ving the way to ſupreme command. In the midſt of this ſecurity, they were alarmed from a quar⯑ter where they leaſt expected. The Thebans had, for four years ſince the ſeizing of their cita⯑del, ſubmitted to the Spartan yoke; but they [7] now took occaſion, by a very deſperate at⯑tempt, to throw it off; for which purpoſe, there was a ſecret correſpondence carried on between the moſt conſiderable of the exiles of Athens, and thoſe who were well affected to them in Thebes; and meaſures were conduct⯑ed between them by Phyllidas, ſecretary to the Theban governors, by whoſe contrivance a competent number of the exiles were to get into the city; and Charon, a man of the firſt rank there, offered his houſe for their reception. The day being fixed, they ſet out from Athens; and twelve of the moſt active and reſolute among them were detached to enter the city, the reſt remaining at a proper diſtance to wait the event. The firſt who offered himſelf was Pelopidas, who was young and daring, and had been very zealous in encouraging the de⯑ſign; and, by the ſhare he had in it, gave a ſufficient earneſt of what might be further ex⯑pected from him in the ſervice of his country. The next man of conſequence was Mellon, who, by ſome, is ſaid to have firſt projected the ſcheme with Phyllidas. Theſe two, with their ten aſſociates, dreſſed themſelves like peaſants, and beat about the fields with dogs and hunting-poles, as in ſearch of game. Having thus paſſed unſuſpected, and con⯑veyed [8] themſelves into the city, they met at Charon's houſe, as the general rendezvous, when they were ſoon after joined by thirty-ſix more of their confederates. It was concerted, that Phyllidas ſhould, on that day, give a great en⯑tertainment to Archias and Philip, the two governors who were appointed by the Spar⯑tans; and, to make it the more complete, he had engaged to provide ſome of the fineſt women in the town to give them a meeting. Matters being thus prepared, the aſſociates di⯑vided themſelves into two bands; one of which, led by Charon and Mellon, were to attack Archias and his company: and having put on women's cloaths over their armour, with pine and poplar over their heads, to ſhade their faces, they took their opportunity when the gueſts were well heated with wine, to enter the room, and immediately ſtabbed Archias and Philip, with ſuch others of the company as were pointed out to them by Phyllidas. A little before this execution, Archias received an expreſs from Athens, with all the particulars of the conſpiracy; and the courier conjured him, in the name of the perſon who wrote the letters, that he ſhould read them forthwith, for that they contained matter of great importance. But he laid them by unopened; and, with a [9] ſmile, ſaid, ‘"Buſineſs to-morrow:"’ which words, upon that occaſion, grew into a proverb. The other band, headed by Pelopidas and Damo⯑clides, went to attack Leontiades, who was at home, and in bed. They ruſhed into his houſe by ſurprize; but he, ſoon taking the alarm, leaped up, and, with his ſword in his hand, re⯑ceived them at his chamber-door, and ſtabbed Cephiſodorus, who was the firſt man that at⯑tempted to enter. Pelopidas was the next who encountered him; and, after a long and difficult diſpute, killed him. From thence they went in purſuit of Hypates, his friend and neighbour, and diſpatched him likewiſe; after which they joined the other band, and ſent to haſten the exiles they had left in Attica.

The whole city was by this time filled with terror and confuſion; the houſes full of lights, and the inhabitants running to and fro in the ſtreets, in a wild, diſtracted manner, and waiting impatiently for day-light, that they might diſtin⯑guiſh their friends from their foes, ſeemed un⯑determined what courſe to take. Early in the morning, the exiles came in armed; and Pelopi⯑das appeared with his party, in a general aſſembly of the people, encompaſſed by the prieſts, car⯑rying garlands in their hands, proclaiming li⯑berty to the Thebans in general, and exhorting [10] them to fight for their gods and their country; for though they had made ſuch a proſperous beginning, the moſt difficult part ſtill remained, whilſt the citadel was in the poſſeſſion of the Spartans, with a garriſon of fifteen hundred men, beſides a great number of citizens and others, who had fled to them for protection, and declared themſelves on their ſide.

Early the next morning, the Athenians ſent five thouſand foot, and two thouſand horſe, to the aſſiſtance of Pelopidas: ſeveral other bodies of troops alſo came in from all the cities of Boeotia; ſo that the citadel being hemmed round, and deſpairing of ſuccours from without, ſurrendered at diſcretion.

The Thebans having thus acquired their freedom, the Spartans were reſolved, at any rate, to take the lead in the affairs of Greece; and having incenſed theſe beyond meaſure, at⯑tempted to ſeize upon the Pyraeus, and thus made the Athenians their irreconcileable ene⯑mies. Ageſilaus was pitched upon to command the army that was to humble the Grecian ſtates. His name ſtruck a terror into the Thebans; and his forces, which amounted to near twenty thouſand men, increaſed their fears. The Thebans, therefore, inſtead of attempting to attack, were contented to ſtand upon their de⯑fence, [11] and poſſeſſed themſelves of a hill near the city. Ageſilaus detached a party of light armed men, to provoke them to come down and give him battle; which they declining, he drew out his whole forces, in order to attack them. Chabrias, who commanded the merce⯑naries on the part of the Thebans, ordered his men to preſent themſelves, and keep their ranks in cloſe order, with their ſhields laid down at their feet, and their ſpears advanced, and with one leg put forward, and the knee upon the half-bent. Ageſilaus, finding them prepared in this manner to receive him, and that they ſtood as it were in defiance of him, thought fit to withdraw his army; and contented himſelf with ravaging the country. This was looked upon as an extraordinary ſtratagem; and Chabrias va⯑lued himſelf ſo much upon it, that he procured his ſtatue to be erected in that poſture.

Thus, through a ſucceſſion of engagements, both by ſea and land, the Spartans, having pro⯑voked a powerful confederacy, grew every day weaker, and their enemies more daring. The Thebans continually grew bolder; and, inſtead of continuing to defend themſelves with diffi⯑culty, attacked the enemy with courage and ſucceſs. Though the battles fought between theſe ſtates, were neither regular nor deciſive, [12] yet they were ſuch as ſerved to raiſe the courage of the Thebans, to gain them confidence, and to form them for thoſe great undertakings which were ſhortly to follow. Pelopidas, who headed them at the battle of Tanagra, ſlew the Spartan commander with his own hand. At the battle of Tegyra, with very unequal forces, he put a large body of the enemy to rout. He himſelf commanded a battalion of the Theban army, diſtinguiſhed by the name of the Sacred Van. They were as remarkable for their fidelity to each other, as for their ſtrength and courage: they were linked by the bonds of common friendſhip; and were ſworn to ſtand by each other in the moſt dangerous extremities. Thus united, they became invincible, and generally turned the victory in their favour, for a ſuc⯑ceſſion of years; until they were at laſt cut down, as one man, by the Macedonian phalanx under Philip.

A peace of ſhort continuance followed theſe ſucceſſes of the Thebans; but they ſoon fell into tumults and ſeditions again. The inha⯑bitants of Xacinthus and Corcyra having ex⯑pelled their magiſtrates, put themſelves under the protection of Athens, and repulſed the Spartans, who attempted to reſtore their ma⯑giſtrates by force.

[13] About the ſame time, the inhabitants of Platea, applying to their old friends the Athe⯑nians, for their protection and alliance, the Thebans took offence at it, and demoliſhed the town; and ſoon after, did the ſame by Theſpiae. The Athenians were ſo highly incenſed at the treatment of thoſe two cities, which had deſerved ſo well of the common cauſe in the Perſian war, that they would act no longer in conjunction with them; and, upon their breaking with them, the affairs of Greece took a new and unexpected turn.

It now began to appear, that the Thebans were growing into power; and while Sparta and Athens were weakening each other by mu⯑tual conteſts, this ſtate, which had enjoyed all the emoluments, without any of the expences of the war, was every day growing more vigo⯑rous and independent. The Thebans, who now began to take the lead in the affairs of Greece, were naturally a hardy and robuſt people, of ſlow intellects, and ſtrong conſtitutions. It was a conſtant maxim with them, to ſide either with Athens or Sparta, in their mutual conteſts; and which ſoever they inclined to, they were generally of weight enough to turn the balance. However, they had hitherto made no further uſe of that weight, than to ſecure themſelves; [14] but the ſpirit which now appeared among them; was firſt implanted by Pelopidas, their deliverer from the Spartan yoke; but ſtill further carried to its utmoſt height, by Epaminondas, who now began to figure in the affairs of Greece.

Epaminondas was one of thoſe few exalted characters, with ſcarce any vice, and almoſt eve⯑ry virtue to diſtinguiſh him from the reſt of man⯑kind. Though in the beginning poſſeſſed of every quality neceſſary for the ſervice of the ſtate, he choſe to lead a private life, employed in the ſtudy of philoſophy, and ſhewing an example of the moſt rigid obſervance of all its doctrines.

Truly a philoſopher, and poor out of taſte, he deſpiſed riches, without affecting any repu⯑tation from that contempt; and if Juſtin may be believed, he coveted glory as little as he did money. It was always againſt his will that commands were conferred upon him; and he behaved himſelf in them in ſuch a manner, as did more honour to dignities, than dignities to him.

Though poor himſelf, and without any eſtate, his very poverty, by drawing upon him the eſteem and confidence of the rich, gave him the opportunity of doing good to others. One of his friends being in great neceſſity, Epami⯑nondas ſent him to a very rich citizen, with [15] orders to aſk him for a thouſand crowns in his name: that rich man coming to his houſe, to know his motives for directing his friend to him upon ſuch an errand, ‘"Why," replied Epaminondas, "it is becauſe this honeſt man is in want, and you are rich."’ Fond of lei⯑ſure, which he devoted to the ſtudy of philo⯑ſophy, his darling paſſion, he ſhunned public employments, and made no intereſt but to exclude himſelf from them. His moderation concealed him ſo well, that he lived obſcure, and almoſt unknown. His merit however diſ⯑covered him. He was taken from his ſolitude by force, to be placed at the head of armies; and he demonſtrated, that philoſophy, though generally in contempt with thoſe who aſpire at the glory of arms, is wonderfully uſeful in forming heroes; for it was a great advance to⯑wards conquering the enemy, to know how to conquer one's ſelf: in this ſchool anciently were taught the great maxims of true policy, the rules of every kind of duty, the motives for a due diſ⯑charge of them, what we owe our country, the right uſe of authority, wherein true courage con⯑ſiſts; in a word, the qualities that form the good citizen, ſtateſman, and great captain; and in all theſe Epaminondas excelled.

He poſſeſſed all the ornaments of the mind. He had the talent of ſpeaking in perfection; [16] and was well verſed in the moſt ſublime ſciences. But a modeſt reſerve threw a veil over all thoſe excellent qualities, which ſtill augmented their value, and of which he knew not what it was to be oſtentatious. Spintharus, in giving his character, ſaid, That he never had met with a man who knew more, and ſpoke leſs.

Such was the general appointed to command the Theban army, and act in conjunction with Pelopidas; with whom he had the moſt perfect and the moſt diſintereſted friendſhip. This ſtate being left out in the general treaty of peace, and thus having the Spartans and Athe⯑nians confederated againſt it, they appeared under the utmoſt conſternation, and all Greece looked upon them as loſt and undone. The Spartans ordered levies to be made in all parts of Greece, that ſided with them; and Cleom⯑brotus, their general, marched towards the frontiers of Boeotia, ſecure of victory: willing, however, to give his hoſtilities an air of juſtice, he ſent to demand of the Thebans, that they ſhould reſtore the cities that they had uſurped, to their liberties; that they ſhould rebuild thoſe they had demoliſhed before, and make reſti⯑tution for all their former wrongs. To this it was replied, ‘"That the Thebans were accountable to none but Heaven for their [17] conduct."’ Nothing now remained on both ſides, but to prepare for action. Epaminondas immediately raiſed all the troops he could, and began his march: his army did not amount to ſix thouſand men; and the enemy had above four times that number. As ſeveral bad omens were urged to prevent his ſetting out, he re⯑plied only by a verſe from Homer, of which the ſenſe is, There is but one good omen; to fight for one's country. However, to reaſſure the ſoldiers, by nature ſuperſtitious, and whom he obſerved to be diſcouraged, he inſtructed ſeveral perſons to come from different places, and report auguries and omens in his favour, which revived the ſpirit and hopes of the troops.

Epaminondas had wiſely taken care to ſecure a paſs by Cleombrotus, which might have ſhort⯑ened his march conſiderably. The latter, after having taken a large compaſs, arrived at Leuctra, a ſmall town of Boeotia, between Plataea and Theſpiae. Both parties conſulted whether they ſhould give battle; which Cleombrotus reſolved, by the advice of all his officers; who repreſented to him, that if he declined fighting with ſuch a ſuperiority of troops, it would confirm the cur⯑rent report, that he ſecretly favoured the The⯑bans. The latter had an eſſential reaſon for [18] haſtening a battle before the arrival of the troops, which the enemy daily expected: how⯑ever, the ſix generals who formed the council of war, differed in their ſentiments; the ſe⯑venth, who was Epaminondas, came in very good time to join the three that were for fight⯑ing; and his opinion carrying the queſtion, the battle was reſolved upon.

The two armies were very unequal in num⯑ber: that of the Lacedemonians, as has been ſaid, conſiſted of twenty-ſour thouſand foot, and ſixteen hundred horſe; the Thebans had only ſix thouſand foot, and four hundred horſe; but all of them choice troops, animated by their ex⯑perience in war, and determined to conquer or die. The Lacedemonian cavalry, compoſed of men picked up by chance, without valour, and ill diſciplined, was as much inferior to their enemies in courage, as ſuperior in number. The infantry could not be depended on, except the Lacedemonians; the allies, as has been ſaid, having engaged in the war with reluctance, be⯑cauſe they did not approve the motive of it, and being beſides diffatisfied with the Lace⯑demonians.

The ability of the generals of either ſide, ſupplied the place of numerous armies, eſpe⯑cially of the Theban, who was the moſt accom⯑pliſhed [19] ſoldier of his times. He was ſupported by Pelopidas, at the head of the ſacred battalion, compoſed of three hundred Thebans, united in a ſtrict friendſhip and affection, and engaged, under a particular oath, never to fly, but to defend each other to the laſt.

Upon the day of battle, the two armies drew up on a plain. Cleombrotus was upon the right, at the head of a body conſiſting of Lacedemo⯑nians, on whom he confided moſt, and whoſe files were twelve deep: to take the advan⯑tage, which his ſuperiority of horſe gave him in an open country, he poſted them in front of his Lacedemonians. Archidamus, the ſon of Ageſilaus, was at the head of the allies, who formed the left wing.

Epaminondas, who reſolved to charge with his left, which he commanded in perſon, ſtrengthened it with the choice of his heavy⯑armed troops, whom he drew up fifty deep: the ſacred battalion was upon his left, and cloſed the wing: the reſt of his infantry were poſted upon his right, in an oblique line; which, the farther it extended, was the more diſtant from the enemy. By this uncommon diſpoſition, his deſign was to cover his flank on the right; to keep off his right wing, as a kind of reſerved body, that he might not hazard the event of [20] the battle upon the weakeſt part of his army; and to begin the action with his left wing, where his beſt troops were poſted, to turn the whole weight of the battle upon Cleombro⯑tus and the Spartans. He was aſſured that, if he could penetrate the Lacedemonian pha⯑lanx, the reſt of the army would ſoon be put to the rout. As for his horſe, he diſpoſed them, after the enemy's example, in the front of his left.

The action began with the cavalry. As the Thebans were better mounted, and braver troops than the Lacedemonian horſe, the latter were not long before they were broke, and driven upon the infantry, which they put into ſome confuſion. Epaminondas, following his horſe cloſe, marched ſwiftly up to Cleombrotus, and fell upon his phalanx with all the weight of his heavy battalion. The latter, to make a diverſion, detached a body of troops, with orders to take Epaminondas in flank, and to ſurround him. Pelopidas, upon the ſight of that movement, advanced with incredible ſpeed and boldneſs, at the head of the ſacred battalion, to prevent the enemy's deſign, and flanked Cleombrotus himſelf; who, by that ſudden and unexpected attack, was put into diſorder. The battle was very fierce and obſtinate; and, whilſt [21] Cleombrotus could act, the victory continued in ſuſpenſe, and declared for neither party. But when he fell dead with his wounds, the The⯑bans, to complete the victory, and the Lace⯑demonians, to avoid the ſhame of abandoning the body of their king, redoubled their efforts, and a great ſlaughter enſued on both ſides. The Spartans fought with ſo much fury about the body, that at length they gained their point, and carried it off. Animated by ſo glorious an advantage, they prepared to return to the charge, which would perhaps have proved ſucceſsful, had the allies ſeconded their ardour: but the left wing, ſeeing the Lacedemonian phalanx broken, and believing all loſt, eſpe⯑cially when they heard that the king was dead, took to flight, and drew off the reſt of the army. Epaminondas followed them vigo⯑rouſly, and killed a great number in the purſuit. The Thebans remained maſters of the field of battle, erected a trophy, and per⯑mitted the enemy to bury their dead.

The Lacedemonians had never received ſuch a blow. The moſt bloody defeat, till then, had ſcarce ever coſt them more than four or five hundred of their citizens. Here they loſt four thouſand men, of whom, one thouſand [22] were Lacedemonians, and four hundred Spar⯑tans, out of ſeven hundred who were in the battle. The Thebans had only three hundred men killed, among whom were four of their citizens.

The city of Sparta was celebrating at that time the Gymnaſtic games, and was full of ſtran⯑gers, whom curioſity had brought thither. When the couriers arrived from Leuctra with the ter⯑rible news of their defeat, the Ephori, though perfectly ſenſible of all the conſequences, and that the Spartan empire had received a mortal wound, would not permit the repreſentations of the theatre to be ſuſpended, nor any changes in the celebration of the feſtival. They ſent to every family the names of their relations who were killed, and ſtayed in the theatre to ſee that the dances and games were continued, without interruption, to the end.

The next day, in the morning, the loſs of each family being known, the fathers and rela⯑tions of thoſe who had died in the battle, met in the public place, and ſaluted and embraced each other with great joy and ſerenity in their looks, whilſt the others kept themſelves cloſe in their houſes; or, if neceſſity obliged them to go abroad, it was with a ſadneſs and dejection [23] of aſpect, which ſenſibly expreſſed their pro⯑found anguiſh and affliction. That difference was ſtill more remarkable in the women: grief, ſilence, tears diſtinguiſhed thoſe who expected the return of their ſons; but ſuch as had loſt their ſons, were ſeen hurrying to the temple, to thank the gods, and congratulating each other upon their glory and good fortune.

One great point under immediate conſi⯑deration, was concerning thoſe who had fled out of the battle. They were, by the law, in that caſe, to be degraded from all honour, and rendered infamous; inſomuch, that it was a diſgrace to intermarry with them: they were to appear publicly in mean and dirty habits, with patched and party-coloured garments, and to go half ſhaved; and whoever met them in the ſtreets, might inſult and beat them, and they were not to make any reſiſtance. This was ſo ſevere a law, and ſuch numbers had incurred the penalties of it, many of whom were of great families and intereſt, that they apprehended the execution of it might occaſion ſome public commotions; beſides, that theſe citizens, ſuch as they were, could very ill be ſpared at this time, when they wanted to recruit the army. Under this difficulty, they gave Ageſilaus a [24] power even over the laws, to diſpenſe with them, to abrogate them, or to enact ſuch new ones as the preſent exigency required. He would not aboliſh or make any variation in the law itſelf; but made a public declaration, That it ſhould lie dormant for that ſingle day, but revive and be in full force again on the morrow; and, by that expedient, he ſaved the citizens from infamy.

So great a victory was followed by inſtan⯑taneous effects; numbers of the Grecian ſtates that had hitherto remained neuter, now de⯑clared in favour of the conquerors, and increaſed their army to the amount of ſeventy thouſand men. Epaminondas entered Laconia with an army, the twelfth part of which were not The⯑bans; and finding a country hitherto untouched by an enemy, he ran through it with fire and ſword, deſtroying and plundering as far as the river Eurotas.

This river was, at that time, very much ſwoln by the melting of the ſnow; and the Thebans ſound more difficulty in paſſing it than they expected, as well from the rapidity as the extreme coldneſs of the water. As Epa⯑minondas was paſſing at the head of his infantry, ſome of the Spartans ſhewed him to Ageſilaus, [25] who, after having attentively conſidered and followed him with his eyes a long time, could not help crying out, in admiration of his va⯑lour, ‘Oh! the wonder-working man!’ The The⯑ban general, however, contented himſelf with over-running the country, without attempting any thing upon Sparta, and, entering Arcadia, reinſtated it in all its former privileges and li⯑berties. The Lacedemonians had ſome time before ſtripped the harmleſs natives of all their poſſeſſions, and obliged them to take re⯑fuge among ſtrangers. Their country was equal in extent to Laconia, and as fertile as the beſt in Greece. Its ancient inhabitants, who were diſperſed in different regions of Greece, Italy and Sicily, on the firſt notice given them, returned with incredible joy, animated by the love of their country, natural to all men; and almoſt as much by the hatred of the Spartans, which the length of time had only increaſed. They built themſelves a city, which, from the ancient name, was called Meſſene.

After performing ſuch ſignal exploits, Pelo⯑pidas and Epaminondas, the Theban generals, once more returned home, not to ſhare the triumph and acclamations of their fellow-citi⯑zens, but to anſwer the accuſations that were [26] laid againſt them; they were now both ſum⯑moned as criminals againſt the ſtate, of having retained their poſts four months beyond the time limited by law. This offence was capital by the laws of Thebes; and thoſe who ſtood up for the conſtitution, were very earneſt in having it obſerved with punctuality. Pelopidas was the firſt cited before the tribunal: he defended himſelf with leſs force and greatneſs of mind, than was expected from a man of his character, by nature warm and fiery. That valour, haughty and intrepid in fight, forſook him be⯑fore his judges. His air and diſcourſe, which had ſomething timid and creeping in it, de⯑noted a man who was afraid of death, and did not in the leaſt incline the judges in his favour, who acquitted him, not without difficulty. Epa⯑minondas, on the contrary, appeared with all the confidence of conſcious innocence: inſtead of juſtifying himſelf, he enumerated his actions; he repeated, in haughty terms, in what manner he had ravaged Laconia, re-eſtabliſhed Meſſe⯑nia, and re-united Arcadia in one body. He concluded with ſaying, That he ſhould die with pleaſure, if the Thebans would renounce the ſole glory of thoſe actions to him, and declare that he had done them by his own authority, and without their participation. All [27] the voices were in his favour; and he returned from his trial, as he uſed to return from battle, with glory and univerſal applauſe. Such dig⯑nity has true valour, that it in a manner ſeizes the admiration of mankind by force. This manner of reproaching them had ſo good an effect, that his enemies declined any further proſecution; and he, with his colleague were honourably acquitted. His enemies, however, jealous of his glory, with a deſign to affront him, cauſed him to be elected the city ſcaven⯑ger; he accepted the place with thanks, and aſſerted, That inſtead of deriving honour from the office, he would give it dignity in his turn.

In the mean time, the Spartans, ſtruck with conſternation at their late defeats, applied to the Athenians for ſuccour; who, after ſome heſi⯑tation, determined to aſſiſt them with all their forces; and a ſlight advantage the Spartans had gained over the Arcadians, in which they did not loſe a man, gave a promiſing dawn of ſucceſs. The Perſian king was alſo applied to for aſſiſtance in the confederacy againſt Thebes; but Pelopidas, undertaking an embaſſy to that court, fruſtrated their purpoſe, and induced that great monarch to ſtand neuter.

Thebes being thus rid of ſo powerful an ene⯑my, had leſs fears of withſtanding the confe⯑deracy [28] of Sparta and Athens: but a new and an unexpected power was now growing up againſt them; a power which was one day about to ſwallow up the liberties of Greece, and give laws to all mankind.

Some years before this, Jaſon the king of Pherae, was choſen general of the Theſſalians by the conſent of the people; he was at the head of an army of above eight thouſand horſe, and twenty thouſand heavy armed foot, with⯑out reckoning light infantry; and might have undertaken any thing with ſuch a body of diſ⯑ciplined and intrepid troops, who had an entire confidence in the valour and conduct of their commander. Death prevented his deſigns; he was aſſaſſinated by perſons who had conſpired his deſtruction. His two brothers, Polydorus and Poliphron, were ſubſtituted in his place. Againſt him Pelopidas was ſent. The latter of whom killed the other, for the ſake of reign⯑ing alone, and was ſoon after killed himſelf by Alexander of Pherae, who ſeized the government, under the pretence of revenging the death of Polydorus his father. The Theban general ſoon compelled Alexander to make ſubmiſſion to him; and attempted by mild uſage to change the natural brutality of his diſpoſition. But Alexander, long addicted to a debauched life, [29] and poſſeſſed of inſatiable avarice, ſecretly with⯑drew from all conſtraint, reſolved to ſeize an opportunity of revenge. It was not till ſome time after that this offered; for Pelopidas be⯑ing appointed ambaſſador to Alexander, who was at that time at the head of a powerful ar⯑my, he was ſeized upon, and made priſoner, contrary to all the laws of nations and huma⯑nity. It was in vain that the Thebans com⯑plained of this infraction; it was in vain that they ſent a powerful army, but headed by in⯑different generals, to revenge the inſult: their army returned without effect, and Alexander treated his priſoners with the utmoſt ſeverity. It was left for Epaminondas only to bring the tyrant to reaſon. Entering Theſſalia at the head of a powerful army, his name ſpread ſuch terror, that the tyrant offered terms of ſub⯑miſſion, and delivered up Pelopidas from priſon.

Pelopidas was ſcarce freed from confinement, when he reſolved to puniſh the tyrant for his perfidy and breach of faith. He led a body of troops againſt Alexander, to a place called Cy⯑nocephalus, where a bloody battle enſued, in which the Thebans were victorious; but Pelo⯑pidas was unfortunately ſlain: his countrymen conſidered their ſucceſſes very dearly earned [30] which they had obtained by his death. The la⯑mentations for him were general; his funeral was magnificent, and his praiſes boundleſs. Alexander himſelf ſoon after was killed by Theba his wife, and his three brothers, who, long ſhocked at his cruelties, reſolved to rid the world of ſuch a monſter. The account has it, that he ſlept every night, guarded by a dog, in a chamber which was aſcended by a ladder. Theba allured away the dog, and covered the ſteps of the ladder with wool to prevent noiſe, and then, with the aſſiſtance of her brothers, ſtabbed him in ſeveral parts of his body.

In the mean time, the war between the The⯑bans and the Spartans proceeded with unabated vigour. The Theban troops were headed by their favourite general Epaminondas; thoſe of Sparta by Ageſilaus, the only man in Greece that was then able to oppoſe him.

The firſt attempt of Epaminondas in this campaign, marked his great abilities, and his ſkill in the art of war. Being informed that Ageſilaus had begun his march with his army, and had left but few citizens to defend Sparta at home, he marched directly thither by night, with a deſign to take the city by ſurprize, as it had neither walls nor troops to defend it; but luckily Ageſilaus was appriſed of his deſign, [31] and diſpatched one of his horſe to adviſe the city of its danger; ſoon after arriving with a powerful ſuccour in perſon, he had ſcarce en⯑tered the town, when the Thebans were ſeen paſſing the Eurotas, and coming on againſt the city. Epaminondas, who perceived that his deſign was diſcovered, thought it incum⯑bent on him not to retire without ſome attempt. He therefore made his troops advance, and making uſe of valour inſtead of ſtratagem, he attacked the city at ſeveral quarters, penetrated as far as the public place, and ſeized that part of Sparta which lay upon the hither ſide of the river. Ageſilaus made head every where, and defended himſelf with much more valour than could be expected from his years. He ſaw well that it was not now a time, as before, to ſpare himſelf, and to act only upon the defen⯑ſive; but that he had need of all his courage and daring, and to fight with all the vigour of deſpair. His ſon Archidamus, at the head of the Spartan youth, behaved with incredible valour whenever the danger was greateſt; and, with his ſmall troop, ſtopped the enemy, and made head againſt them on all ſides.

A young Spartan, named Iſadas, diſtinguiſh⯑ed himſelf particularly in this action. He was very handſome in the face, perfectly well ſhaped, [32] of an advantageous ſtature, and in the flower of his youth; he had neither armour nor cloaths upon his body, which ſhone with oil; he held a ſpear in one hand, and a ſword in the other. In this condition he quitted his houſe with the utmoſt eagerneſs; and, breaking through the preſs of the Spartans that fought, he threw himſelf upon the enemy, gave mortal wounds at every blow, and laid all at his feet who op⯑poſed him, without receiving any hurt him⯑ſelf. Whether the enemy were diſmayed at ſo aſtoniſhing a ſight, or, ſays Plutarch, the gods took pleaſure in preſerving him upon account of his extraordinary valour; it is ſaid, the Ephori decreed him a crown after the battle, in honour of his exploits; but afterwards fined him a thouſand drachmas, for having expoſed himſelf to ſo great a danger without arms.

Epaminondas, thus failing in his deſign, was reſolved, before he laid down his com⯑mand, which was near expiring, to give the Lacedemonians and Athenians battle, as they followed him cloſe in the rear.

The Greeks had never fought among them⯑ſelves with more numerous armies. The La⯑cedemonians conſiſted of more than twenty thouſand foot, and two thouſand horſe; the [33] Thebans of thirty thouſand foot, and three thouſand horſe. Upon the right wing of the former, the Mantineans, Arcadians, and La⯑cedemonians were poſted in one line; the Eleans and Achaeans, who were the weakeſt of their troops, had the centre; and the Athe⯑nians alone compoſed the left wing. In the other army, the Thebans and Arcadians were on the left, the Argives on the right, and the other allies in the centre: the cavalry on each ſide were diſpoſed in the wings.

The Theban general marched in the ſame order of battle in which he intended to fight, that he might not be obliged, when he came up with the enemy, to loſe, in the diſpoſition of his army, a time which cannot be recovered when loſt in great enterprizes.

He did not march directly, and with his front to the enemy, but in a column upon the hills, with his left wing foremoſt; as if he did not intend to fight that day. When he was over-againſt them, at a quarter of a league's di⯑ſtance, he made the troops halt, and lay down their arms, as if he deſigned to encamp there. The enemy, in effect, were deceived by his ſtand; and reckoning no longer upon a battle, they quitted their arms, diſperſed themſelves a⯑bout the camp, and ſuffered that ardour to be ex⯑tinguiſhed, [34] which a near approach of a battle is wont to kindle in the hearts of the ſoldiers.

Epaminondas, however, by ſuddenly wheel⯑ing his troops to the right, having changed his column into a line, and having drawn out the choice troops, whom he had expreſsly poſted in front upon his march, he made them double their files upon the front of his left wing, to add to its ſtrength, and to put it into a condition to attack in a point the Lacedemonian phalanx, which, by the movement he had made, faced it directly. He ordered the centre and right wing of his army to move very ſlow, and to halt before they came up with the enemy, that he might not hazard the event of the battle upon troops of which he had no great opinion.

He expected to decide the victory by that body of choſen troops which he commanded in perſon, and which he had formed into a co⯑lumn to attack the enemy in a wedge-like point. He aſſured himſelf, that if he could penetrate the Lacedemonian phalanx, in which the enemy's principal force conſiſted, he ſhould not find it difficult to rout the reſt of the army, by charging upon the right and left with his victorious troops.

But that he might prevent the Athenians in the left wing from coming to the ſupport of [35] their right againſt his intended attack, he made a detachment of his horſe and foot advance out of the line, and poſted them upon a riſing ground, in readineſs to flank the Athenians, as well to cover his right as to alarm them and give them reaſon to apprehend being taken in flank and rear themſelves, if they advanced to ſuſtain their right.

After having diſpoſed his whole army in this manner, he moved on to charge the enemy with the whole weight of his column. They were ſtrangely ſurprized when they ſaw Epa⯑minondas advance towards them in this order; and reſumed their arms, bridled their horſes, and made all the haſte they could to their ranks.

Whilſt Epaminondas marched againſt the enemy, the cavalry that covered his flank on the left, the beſt at that time in Greece, en⯑tirely compoſed of Thebans and Theſſalians, had orders to attack the enemy's horſe. The Theban general, whom nothing eſcaped, had artfully beſtowed bow-men, ſlingers, and dart-men in the intervals of his horſe, in order to begin the diſorders of the enemy's cavalry, by a previous diſcharge of a ſhower of arrows, ſtones, and javelins upon them. The other army had neglected to take the ſame precau⯑tion; [36] and had made another fault, not leſs conſiderable, in giving as much depth to the ſquadrons as if they had been a phalanx. By this means their horſe were incapable of ſup⯑porting long the charge of the Thebans. Af⯑ter having made ſeveral ineffectual attacks with great loſs, they were obliged to retire behind their infantry.

In the mean time, Epaminondas, with his body of foot, had charged the Lacedemonian phalanx. The troops fought on both ſides with incredible ardour, both the Thebans and Lacedemonians being reſolved to periſh ra⯑ther than yield the glory of arms to their ri⯑vals. They began with fighting with the ſpear; and thoſe firſt arms being ſoon broken in the fury of the combat, they charged each other ſword in hand. The reſiſtance was equally obſtinate; and the ſlaughter very great on both ſides. The troops deſpiſing danger, and deſiring only to diſtinguiſh themſelves by the greatneſs of their actions, choſe rather to die in their ranks, than to loſe a ſtep of their ground.

The furious ſlaughter on both ſides, having continued a great while, without the victory inclining to either, Epaminondas, to force it to declare for him, thought it his duty to make an extraordinary effort in perſon, without re⯑gard [37] to the danger of his own life. He form⯑ed therefore a troop of the braveſt and moſt determinate about him; and, putting himſelf at the head of them, made a vigorous charge upon the enemy, where the battle was moſt warm, and wounded the general of the Lace⯑demonians with the firſt javelin he threw. This troop, by his example, having wounded or killed all that ſtood in their way, broke and penetrated the phalanx. The Lacedemonians, diſmayed by the preſence of Epaminondas, and overpowered by the weight of that intrepid party, were reduced to give ground. The groſs of the Theban troops, animated by their general's example and ſucceſs, drove back the enemy upon his right and left, and made great ſlaughter of them. But ſome troops of the Spartans, perceiving that Epaminondas aban⯑doned himſelf too much to his ardour, ſud⯑denly rallied, and, returning to the fight, charged him with a ſhower of javelins. Whilſt he kept off part of thoſe darts, ſhunned ſome of them, fenced off others, and was fighting with the moſt heroic valour, to aſſure the victory to his army, a Spartan, named Callicrates, gave him a mortal wound with a javelin in the breaſt acroſs his cuiraſs. The wood of the ja⯑velin being broke off, and the iron head con⯑tinuing [38] in the wound, the torment was inſup⯑portable, and he fell immediately. The battle began around him with new fury; the one ſide uſing their utmoſt endeavours to take him alive, and the other to ſave him. The The⯑bans gained their point at laſt, and carried him off, after having put the enemy to flight.

After ſeveral different movements, and al⯑ternative loſſes and advantages, the troops on both ſides ſtood ſtill, and reſted upon their arms; and the trumpets of the two armies, as if by conſent, ſounded the retreat at the ſame time. Each party pretended to the victo⯑ry, and erected a trophy; the Thebans, be⯑cauſe they had defeated the right wing, and re⯑mained maſters of the field of battle; the Athenians, becauſe they had cut the detach⯑ment in pieces. And, from this point of ho⯑nour, both ſides refuſed at firſt to aſk leave to bury their dead; which, with the ancients, was confeſſing their defeat. The Lacedemo⯑nians, however, ſent firſt to demand that per⯑miſſion; after which, the reſt had no thoughts but of paying the laſt duties to the ſlain.

In the mean time, Epaminondas had been carried into the camp. The ſurgeons, after having examined the wound, declared, that he would expire as ſoon as the head of the dart [39] was drawn out of it. Thoſe words gave all that were preſent the utmoſt ſorrow and afflic⯑tion, who were inconſolable on ſeeing ſo great a man upon the point of expiring. For him, the only concern he expreſſed was about his arms, and the ſucceſs of the battle. When they ſhewed him his ſhield, and aſſured him that the Thebans had gained the victory, turn⯑ing towards his friends with a calm and ſe⯑rene air, ‘"All then is well,"’ ſaid he; and ſoon after, upon drawing the head of the ja⯑velin out of his body, he expired in the arms of Victory.

As the glory of Thebes roſe with Epami⯑nondas, ſo it fell with him; and he is, per⯑haps, the only inſtance of one man's being able to inſpire his country with military glory, and lead it on to conqueſt, without having had a pre⯑deceſſor, or leaving an imitator of his example.

The battle of Mantinea was the greateſt that ever was fought by Grecians againſt Grecians; the whole ſtrength of the country being drawn out, and ranged according to their different in⯑tereſts; and it was fought with an obſtinacy equal to the importance of it, which was the fixing the empire of Greece. And this muſt of courſe have been transferred to the The⯑bans upon their victory, if they had not loſt [40] the fruits of it by the death of their gene⯑ral, who was the ſoul of all their counſels and deſigns. This blaſted all their hopes, and put out their ſudden blaze of power, almoſt as ſoon as it was kindled. However, they did not preſently give up their pretenſions; they were ſtill ranked among the leading ſtates, and made ſeveral further ſtruggles; but they were faint and ineffectual; and ſuch as were rather for life and being, than for ſuperiority and do⯑minion. A peace, therefore, was propoſed; which was ratified by all the ſtates of Greece, except Sparta; the conditions of which were, that every ſtate ſhould maintain what they poſ⯑ſeſſed, and hold it independent of any other power.

A ſtate of repoſe enſued this peace; in which the Grecian powers ſeemed to ſlacken from their former animoſities; and if we except an expedition under Ageſilaus into Egypt, whi⯑ther he went to aſſiſt Tachos, who had uſurp⯑ed that kingdom, and in which he died, there was little done for ſeveral years following. The Athenians, more particularly, when they found themſelves delivered from him who kept up their emulation, grew indolent a nd re⯑miſs, and abandoned themſelves to their eaſe and pleaſure, being wholly taken up with [41] ſhews, ſports and feſtivals. They were na⯑turally too much addicted to theſe amuſe⯑ments; and they had formerly been encoura⯑ged in them by Pericles, who knew how to lead them by their inclinations, and took this method to ingratiate himſelf, and to di⯑vert them from inſpecting too narrowly into his adminiſtration. But they now carried their diverſions to a much higher pitch of ex⯑travagance. They had ſuch a paſſion for the ſtage, that it ſtifled in them all other thoughts either of buſineſs or of glory. In ſhort, the decorations, and other charges attending the theatre, were ſo exceſſive, that Plutarch ſays, It coſt more to repreſent ſome of the famous pieces of Sophocles and Euripides, than it had done to carry on the war againſt the bar⯑barians. And, in order to ſupport this charge, they ſeized upon the fund which had been ſet apart for the war, with a prohibition, upon pain of death, ever to adviſe the applying of it to any other purpoſe. They not only re⯑verſed this decree, but went as far the other way, making it death to propoſe the reſtoring the fund to the uſes to which it had before been appropriated, under the ſame penalties. By diverting the courſe of the ſupplies in ſo ex⯑traordinary a manner, and entertaining the [42] idle citizen at the expence of the ſoldier and marinet, they ſeemed to have no remains of that ſpirit and vigour which they had exert⯑ed in the Perſian wars, when they demoliſhed their houſes to furniſh out a navy; and when the women ſtoned a man to death, who pro⯑poſed to appeaſe the Great King (as he was called) by paying tribute, and doing homage.

In this general remiſſneſs, it was not to be ſuppoſed, that their allies would treat them with the reſpect they demanded. Moſt of the ſtates, that had hitherto been in alliance with them, A. J. C. [...]58. and had found ſecurity under their protection, took up arms againſt them. In reducing theſe, Chabrias, Iphicrates, and Timotheus gained great reputation; and are ſuppoſed to have been conſummate generals; but their ſucceſſes are too minute to rank them among the claſs of eminent commanders; and whatever their ſkill might have been, there wanted a great occaſion for its diſplay. This war opened with the ſiege of Chio, in which the Athenians were repulſed; and Cha⯑brias, unwilling to abandon his veſſel, pre⯑ferred death to flight. The ſiege of Byzan⯑tium followed; before which, the fleet of the contending powers was diſperſed by a ſtorm; in conſequence of which, the Athenian ge⯑nerals [43] were recalled. Timotheus was fined a great ſum; but, being too poor to pay, he went into voluntary baniſhment. Iphi⯑crates was alſo obliged to anſwer for him⯑ſelf, but got off by his eloquence; and, in the mean time, the affairs of Athens ſucceeded but ill under the guidance of Charis, who was left ſole commander. A peace was con⯑cluded, whereby every city and people were left to the full enjoyment of their liberty: and thus the war of the allies ended, after having continued three years.

During theſe tranſactions, a power was grow⯑ing up in Greece, hitherto unobſerved, but now too conſpicuous and formidable to be over⯑looked in the general picture; this was that of the Macedonians; a people hitherto obſcure, and in a manner barbarous; and who, though warlike and hardy, had never yet preſumed to intermeddle in the affairs of Greece: but now ſeveral circumſtances concurred to raiſe them from obſcurity, and to involve them in meaſures, which, by degrees, wrought a tho⯑rough change in the ſtate of Greece; it will be neceſſary, therefore, to begin with a ſhort account of their power and origin, before we enter into a detail of that conſpicuous part, which they afterwards performed on the theatre of the world.

CHAP. II. From the Birth to the Death of PHILIP King of MACEDON.

THE people of Macedon were hitherto con⯑ſidered as making no part of the Grecian con⯑federacy; they were looked upon as borderers, as men, in a meaſure, ſemi-barbarous; who boaſted indeed of taking their origin from the Greeks; but who hitherto neither poſſeſſed their politeneſs, nor enjoyed their freedom: they had little or no intercourſe with their mother-country; they had contracted the ha⯑bits and manners of the natives where they were ſettled, and from thence they were treat⯑ed with ſimilar diſreſpect.

The firſt king who is mentioned with any degree of certainty to have reigned in Macedo⯑nia, was Caranus, by birth an Argive, and ſaid to be the ſixteenth in deſcent from Hercules. It was upon this foundation, that Philip afterwards grounded his pretenſions to be of the race of Hercules, and aſſumed to himſelf divine ho⯑nours. Caranus, therefore, is commonly repu⯑ted [45] to have led forth a body of his country⯑men, by the advice of the oracle, into theſe parts where he ſettled, and made himſelf king. Caranus having, according to the general ac⯑count, reigned twenty-eight years; the ſucceſſion was continued after him to the times we are now treating of. But there is very little worth notice recorded of theſe kings; they being chiefly employed in defending themſelves againſt the incurſions of their neighbours. And as to their domeſtic affairs, they were remark⯑able only for the frequent murders and uſur⯑pations which happened in the royal family.

Amintas, father of Philip, began to reign the third year of the ninety-ſixth Olympiad. Having the very year after been warmly at⯑tacked by the Illyrians, and diſpoſſeſſed of a great part of his kingdom, which he thought it ſcarce poſſible for him ever to recover again, he addreſſed himſelf to the Olynthians; and, in order to engage them the more firmly in his intereſt, he had given up to them a conſider⯑able track of land in the neighbourhood of their city. He was reſtored to the throne by the Theſſalians; upon which he was de⯑ſirous of reſuming the poſſeſſion of the lands, which nothing but the ill ſituation of his affairs had obliged him to reſign to the Olynthians. [46] This occaſioned a war; but Amintas not be⯑ing ſtrong enough to make head ſingly againſt ſo powerful a people, the Greeks and the Athe⯑nians, in particular, ſent him ſuccours, and enabled him to weaken the power of the Olyn⯑thians, who threatened him with a total and impending ruin.

Amintas died, after having reigned twenty-four years; he left three legitimate children, namely, Alexander, Perdicas, and Philip. Alex⯑ander, the eldeſt ſon, reigned but one year. Perdicas, the ſecond brother, was oppoſed by Pauſanias, who began, by ſeizing ſome for⯑treſſes; but, by the aſſiſtance of Iphicrates, the Athenian general, the uſurper was expelled, and Perdicas the lawful ſovereign confirmed on the throne. He did not, however, long con⯑tinue in tranquillity. Ptolemy, a natural ſon of Amintas, laid claim to the crown, and diſ⯑puted his title; which, by mutual conſent, was referred to Pelopidas the Theban, a man more revered for his probity than his valour. Pelo⯑pidas determined in favour of Perdicas; and, having judged it neceſſary to take pledges on both ſides, in order to oblige the two compe⯑titors to obſerve the articles of the treaty ac⯑cepted by them, among other hoſtages, he car⯑ried Philip with him to Thebes, where he [47] reſided ſeveral years. He was then ten years of age. Eurydice, at her leaving this much-loved ſon, earneſtly beſought Pelopidas to procure him an education worthy of his birth, and of the city to which he was going, an hoſtage. Pelopidas placed him with Epaminondas, who had a celebrated Pythagorean philoſopher in his houſe for the education of his ſon. Philip improved greatly by the inſtructions of his pre⯑ceptor, and much more by thoſe of Epaminon⯑das, under whom he undoubtedly made ſome campaigns, though no mention is made of this. He could not poſſibly have had a more ex⯑cellent maſter, whether for war, or the con⯑duct of life; for this illuſtrious Theban was, at the ſame time, a great philoſopher; that is to ſay, a wiſe and virtuous man, and a great commander, as well as a great ſtateſman. Philip was very proud of being his pupil, and propoſed him as a model to himſelf; moſt hap⯑py, could he have copied him perfectly! Per⯑haps he borrowed from Epaminondas his acti⯑vity in war, and his promptitude in improving occaſions; which, however, formed but a very inconſiderable part of the merit of that illu⯑ſtrious perſonage. But, with regard to his temperance, his juſtice, his diſintereſtedneſs, his ſincerity, his magnanimity, his clemency, [48] which rendered him truly great, theſe were virtues which Philip had not received from nature, and did not acquire by imitation.

The Thebans did not know that they were then forming and educating the moſt danger⯑ous enemy of Greece. After Philip had ſpent nine or ten years in their city, the news of a revolution in Macedon made him reſolve to leave Thebes clandeſtinely. Accordingly he ſtole away, made the utmoſt expedition, and found the Macedonians greatly ſurprized at ha⯑ving loſt their king Perdicas, who had been killed in a great battle by the Illyrians; but much more ſo, to find they had as many ene⯑mies as neighbours. The Illyrians were on the point of returning into the kingdom with a much greater force; the Peonians infeſted it with perpetual incurſions; the Thracians were determined to place Pauſanias on the throne, who had not abandoned his preten⯑ſions; and the Athenians were bringing Ar⯑gaeus, whom Mantias, their general, was or⯑dered to ſupport with a ſtrong fleet, and a con⯑ſiderable body of troops. Macedonia at that time wanted a prince of years to govern; and had only a child, Amintas, the ſon of Perdi⯑cas, and lawful heir of the crown. Philip governed the kingdom for ſome time, by the [49] title of Guardian to the Prince; but the ſub⯑jects, juſtly alarmed, depoſed the nephew in favour of the uncle; and inſtead of the heir, whom nature had given them, ſet him upon the throne whom the preſent conjuncture of affairs required, perſuaded that the laws of neceſſity are ſuperior to all others. According⯑ly, Philip, at twenty-four years of age, aſ⯑cended the throne, the firſt year of the 105th Olympiad.

Never did the preſent condition of the Ma⯑cedonians require a man of more prudence and activity. They were ſurrounded with as many enemies as they had neighbours. The Illyrians, ſluſhed with their late victory, were preparing to march againſt them with a great army. The Paeonians were making daily incurſions upon them; and, at the ſame time, the title to the crown was conteſted by Pauſanias and Argaeus; the former whereof was ſupported by the Thra⯑cians, and the latter by the Athenians; who, for that purpoſe, had ſent out a good fleet, and three thouſand land-men.

Under theſe circumſtances, with ſo many enemies on his hands at once, and that before he was ſettled on the throne, his firſt care was to make ſure of his own people, to gain their affections, and to raiſe their ſpirits; for they [50] were very much diſheartened, having loſt above four thouſand men in the late action with the Illyrians. He ſucceeded in theſe points, by the artfulneſs of his addreſs, and the force of his elo⯑quence, of which he was a great maſter. His next ſtep was to train and exerciſe them, and reform their diſcipline; and it was at this time that he inſtituted the famous Macedonian phalanx, which did ſo much execution. It was an im⯑provement upon the ancient manner of fight⯑ing among the Grecians, who generally drew up their foot ſo cloſe, as to ſtand the ſhock of the enemy without being broken. The com⯑plete phalanx was thought to contain above ſixteen thouſand men; though it was alſo taken in general for any company or party of ſol⯑diers, and frequently for the whole body of foot. But this of Philip's invention is deſcri⯑bed by Polybius to be a long ſquare, conſiſt⯑ing of eight thouſand pike-men, ſixteen deep, and five hundred in front; the men ſtanding ſo cloſe together, that the pikes of the fifth rank were extended three foot beyond the line of the front. The reſt, whoſe diſtance from the front made their pikes uſeleſs, reſted them upon the ſhoulders of thoſe who ſtood before them, and ſo locking them together in file, preſſed forward to ſupport and puſh on the former [51] ranks, whereby the aſſault was rendered more violent and irreſiſtible.

When Philip had made ſome proper regu⯑lation of his affairs at home, he began to look abroad, in order to divert the ſtorms which threatened him from all quarters. By money and promiſes, he made up matters for the preſent with ſuch of his enemies as lay neareſt to him; and then turned his forces againſt the Athenians, who were marched up to Methone, to aſſiſt Argaeus. He gave them battle, and defeated them; and the death of Argaeus, who was killed in the action, put an end to that diſpute: for he permitted the Athenians, when they were in his power, to return home. This inſtance of his moderation, gained ſo far upon them, that they ſoon after concluded a peace with him; which yet he obſerved no longer than it ſerved his deſign of ſecuring the other part of his dominions.

Accordingly, he marched northward, where he declared war againſt the Paeonians, and ſubdued them; then fell upon the Illyrians, and having killed above ſeven thouſand of them in a pitched battle, obliged them to reſtore all their conqueſts in Macedonia. He had alſo ob⯑ſtructed the paſſage of the Thaſians; but yet did not think it ſufficiently ſecured, without making [52] himſelf maſter of Amphipolis, which was very commodiouſly ſituated on the river Strymon, and was the key of that ſide of his dominions. He knew the importance of it, therefore he poſſeſſed himſelf of it in the beginning of his reign. This was the ground of his quarrel with the Athe⯑nians; who claimed it as one of their colonies, and made ſuch a point of it, that their ſetting up Argaeus againſt him, was not ſo much for his own ſake, as for the credit of impoſing a king upon the Macedonians; as it was with a view to get the city reſtored to them by his means, in caſe he ſhould have ſucceeded in his inten⯑tions. Philip was ſenſible of their drift, and finding it neceſſary at that time to keep ſome meaſures with them, would neither keep the place himſelf, nor let them have it; but took a middle courſe, and declared it a free city; thereby leaving the inhabitants to throw off their dependence on their old maſters, and making it appear to be their own act. But the city continued no longer in this ſtate, than until he ſound himſelf at liberty to make a more tho⯑rough conqueſt of it; which at this time he eaſily effected, through the remiſſneſs of the Athenians, who refuſed to ſend any relief to it; alledging, in their excuſe, that it would be a breach of the peace, which they had concluded [53] with Philip the year before. But the truth is, he tricked them out of it by a promiſe of deli⯑vering it up to them. But inſtead of keeping his word with them, he made further encroach⯑ments, by ſeizing on Pydna and Potidea; the latter of which being garriſoned by Athenians, he drew them out, and ſent them home; but diſmiſſed them with ſuch marks of civility, as ſhewed that he avoided coming to an open rup⯑ture with that ſtate, at leaſt until his deſigns were more ripe for it; though at the ſame time he did what he could to weaken them, and drive them out of his neighbourhood. Pydna, with the territory belonging to it, he gave up to the Olynthians, who were his father's inve⯑terate enemies. His hands were too full at this time to revive the quarrel againſt ſo rich and powerful a city; which, for three years together, had withſtood the united forces of Sparta and Macedonia; he therefore choſe to buy their friendſhip for the preſent, and to amuſe them by the delivery of this town, as he had done the Athenians by the peace, until he could attack them at more advantage. In this ſtep alſo he over-reached the Athenians; who were at the ſame time courting the alliance of the Olynthians, in order to maintain their footing in thoſe parts. Which ſide ſoever the [54] Olynthians inclined to, they were ſtrong enough to turn the balance; and therefore, the gain⯑ing them became a matter of great contention between Philip and the Athenians.

From thence he proceeded to ſeize the city of Crenides, which had been built two years before, and then called it Philippi, from his own name. It was here that he diſcovered a gold mine, which every year produced an hundred and forty-four thouſand pounds ſterling. This, which was an immenſe ſum for that age, was much more ſerviceable than fleets or armies, in fighting his battles; and he ſeldom failed uſing it in every negociation. It is ſaid, that conſulting the oracle at Delphos, concerning the ſucceſs of an intended expedition, he was anſwered by the prieſteſs, That with ſilver ſpears he ſhould con⯑quer all things. He took the advice of the oracle, and his ſucceſs was anſwerable to its wiſdom: indeed, he was leſs proud of the ſuc⯑ceſs of a battle, than of a negociation; well knowing, that his ſoldiers and generals ſhared in the one, but that the honour of the latter was wholly his own.

But a larger field was now opening to his ambition. The mutual diviſions of the ſtates of Greece were at no time wholly cemented, and they broke out now upon a very particular [55] occaſion. The firſt cauſe of the rupture, (which was afterwards called the Sacred War) aroſe from the Phocians having ploughed up a piece of ground belonging to the temple of Apollo at Delphos. Againſt this all the neigh⯑bouring ſtates exclaimed as a ſacrilege: they were cited before the council of Amphyctions, who particularly took cognizance of ſacred matters; they were caſt, and an heavy fine was impoſed upon them. This the Phocians were unable to pay; they refuſed to ſubmit to the decree: they alledged, that the care and pa⯑tronage of the temple anciently belonged to them; and, to vindicate this, they quoted a precedent from Homer.

Philomelas, one of their chief citizens, was principally inſtrumental in encouraging them to arms: he raiſed their ardour, and was ap⯑pointed their general. He firſt applied him⯑ſelf to the Spartans, who had likewiſe been fined by the Amphyctions, at the inſtance of the Thebans, after the battle of Leuctra, for having ſeized the Cadmea: for this reaſon they were very well diſpoſed to join with him, but did not yet think it proper to declare them⯑ſelves: however, they encouraged his deſign, and ſupplied him under-hand with money; by which means he raiſed troops, and, without [56] much difficulty, got poſſeſſion of the temple. The chief reſiſtance he met with in the neigh⯑bourhood, was from the Locrians; but having worſted them, he eraſed the decree of the Amphyctions, which was inſcribed on the pil⯑lars of the temple. However, to ſtrengthen his authority, and give a colour to his proceedings, he thought it convenient to conſult the oracle, and to procure an anſwer in his favour. But when he applied to the prieſteſs for that pur⯑poſe, ſhe refuſed to officiate, until being inti⯑midated by his threats, ſhe told him, the god left him at liberty to act as he pleaſed; which he looked upon as a good anſwer, and as ſuch took care to divulge it.

The Amphyctions meeting a ſecond time, a reſolution was formed to declare war againſt the Phocians. Moſt of the Grecian nations engaged in this quarrel, and ſided with the one or the other party. The Boeotians, the Locrians, Theſſa⯑lians, and ſeveral other neighbouring people, declared in favour of the god; whilſt Sparta, Athens, and ſome other cities of Peloponeſus, joined with the Phocians. Philomelas had not yet touched the treaſures of the temple; but being afterwards not ſo ſcrupulous, he be⯑lieved that the riches of the god could not be better employed, than in the deity's defence; [57] for he gave this ſpecious name to this ſacri⯑legious attempt: and being enabled, by this freſh ſupply, to double the pay of his ſoldiers, he raiſed a very conſiderable body of troops.

Several battles were fought; and the ſucceſs for ſome time ſeemed doubtful on both ſides. Every one knows how much religious wars are to be dreaded, and the prodigious lengths which a falſe zeal, when veiled with ſo venerable a name, is apt to go. The Thebans having in a rencounter taken ſeveral priſoners, condemned them all to die, as ſacrilegious wretches who were excommunicated: the Phocians did the ſame, by way of repriſal. Theſe had at firſt gained ſeveral advantages; but having been defeated in a great battle, Philomelas their leader being cloſely attacked on an eminence from which there was no retreating, defended himſelf for a long time with invincible bravery; which however not availing, he threw himſelf headlong from a rock, in order to avoid the torments he muſt undoubtedly have undergone, had he fallen alive into the hands of his ene⯑mies. Oenomarchus was his ſucceſſor, and took upon him the command of the forces.

Philip thought it moſt conſiſtent with his in⯑tereſt to remain neuter in this general move⯑ment of the Greeks, in favour either of the [58] Phocians or the Thebans. It was conſiſtent with the policy of this ambitious prince, who had little regard for religion, or the intereſts of Apollo, but was always intent upon his own, not to engage in a war by which he could not reap the leaſt benefit; and to take advantage of a juncture in which all Greece, employed and divided by a great war, gave him an oppor⯑tunity to extend his frontiers, and puſh his con⯑queſts, without any apprehenſion of oppoſition. He was alſo well pleaſed to ſee both parties weaken and conſume each other; as he ſhould thereby be enabled to fall upon them afterwards to greater advantage.

Being deſirous of ſubjecting Thrace, and of ſe⯑curing the conqueſts he had already made there, he determined to poſſeſs himſelf of Methone, a ſmall city, incapable of ſupporting itſelf by its own ſtrength, but which gave him diſquiet, and obſtructed his deſigns, whenever it was in the hands of his enemies. Accordingly he be⯑ſieged that city, made himſelf maſter of, and razed it. He loſt one of his eyes before Methone, by a very ſingular accident. Aſter of Amphipolis had offered his ſervices to Philip, as ſo excellent a markſman, that he could bring down birds in their moſt rapid ſlight. The monarch made this anſwer, ‘"Well, I will take [59] you into my ſervice, when I make war upon ſtarlings;"’ which anſwer ſtung the archer to the quick. A repartee proves often of fatal conſequence to him who makes it; ſo that, Aſter having thrown himſelf into the city, he let fly an arrow, on which was written, ‘"To Philip's right eye."’ This carried a moſt cruel proof that he was a good markſman; for he hit him in the right eye; and Philip ſent him back the ſame arrow, with this inſcription: ‘"If Philip takes the city, he will hang up Aſter;"’ and accordingly he was as good as his word. A ſkilful ſurgeon drew the arrow out of Philip's eye with ſo much art and dexterity, that not the leaſt ſcar remained; and though he could not ſave his eye, he yet took away the blemiſh.

After taking the city, Philip, ever ſtudious either to weaken his enemies by new conqueſts, or gain more friends by doing them ſome im⯑portant ſervice, marched into Theſſaly, which had implored his aſſiſtance againſt its tyrants. The liberty of that country ſeemed now ſecure, ſince Alexander of Pherae was no more. Never⯑theleſs, his brothers, who, in concert with his wife Thebe, had murdered him, grown weary of having ſome time acted the part of deliverers, revived his tyranny, and oppreſſed the Theſſa⯑lians [60] with a new yoke. Lycophron, the eldeſt of the three brothers who ſucceeded Alexander, had ſtrengthened himſelf by the protection of the Phocians Oenomarchus, their leader, brought him a numerous body of forces, and at firſt gained a conſiderable advantage over Philip; but engaging him a ſecond time, he was en⯑tirely defeated, and his army routed. The flying troops were purſued to the ſea-ſhore; upwards of ſix thouſand men were killed on the ſpot, among whom was Oenomarchus, whoſe body was hung upon a gallows; and three thouſand, who were taken priſoners, were thrown into the ſea by Philip's order, as ſo many ſacrilegious wretches, the profeſſed enemies of religion.

Philip, after having freed the Theſſalians, reſolved to carry his arms into Phocis. This was his firſt attempt to get footing in Greece, and to have a ſhare in the general affairs of the Greeks, from which the kings of Macedon had always been excluded as foreigners. In this view, upon pretence of going over into Phocis, in order to puniſh the ſacrilegious Phocians, he marched towards Thermopylae, to poſſeſs himſelf of a paſs which gave him a free paſſage into Greece, and eſpecially into Attica.

An admiſſion of foreigners into Greece, was a meaſure that was always formidable to thoſe [61] who called themſelves Grecians. The Athenians, upon hearing of a march which might prove of the utmoſt conſequence, haſted to Thermo⯑pylae, and poſſeſſed themſelves of this important paſs, which Philip did not care attempting to force. The Athenians were rouſed from their lethargy of pleaſure, to make uſe of this pre⯑caution, by the perſuaſions of Demoſthenes, the celebrated orator, who, from the beginning, ſaw the ambition of Philip, and the power of which he was poſſeſſed to carry him through his deſigns.

This illuſtrious orator and ſtateſman, whom we ſhall hereafter find acting ſo conſiderable a part in the courſe of this hiſtory, was born in the laſt year of the ninety-ninth Olympiad, ac⯑cording to Dionyſius, who, in his epiſtle to Lammacus, hath accurately diſtinguiſhed the different periods of his life, and the times in which his ſeveral orations were delivered. He was the ſon not of a mean and obſcure me⯑chanic, as the Roman ſatyriſt hath repreſented him, but of an eminent Athenian citizen, who raiſed a conſiderable fortune by the manufac⯑ture of arms. At the age of ſeven years, he loſt his father; and to add to this misfortune, the guardians to whom he was intruſted, waſted and embezzled a conſiderable part of his inhe⯑ritance. [62] Thus oppreſſed by fraud, and diſ⯑couraged by a weak and effeminate habit of body, he yet diſcovered an early ambition to diſtinguiſh himſelf as a popular ſpeaker. The applauſe beſtowed on a public orator, who had defended his country's right to the city of Oropus, in an elaborate harangue, inflamed his youthful mind with an eager deſire of meriting the like honour. Iſocrates and Iſaeus were then the two moſt eminent profeſſors of eloquence at Athens. The ſoft and florid manner of the former did by no means ſuit the genius of De⯑moſthenes: Iſaeus was more vigorous and ener⯑getic, and his ſtyle better ſuited to public bu⯑ſineſs. To him therefore he applied, and under his direction purſued thoſe ſtudies, which might accompliſh him for the character to which he aſpired. His firſt eſſay was made againſt his guardian, by whom he had been ſo injuriouſly treated: but the goodneſs of his cauſe was here of more ſervice than the abilities of the young orator; for his early attempts were unpro⯑miſing, and ſoon convinced him of the neceſſity of a graceful and manly pronunciation. His cloſe and ſevere application, and the extraor⯑dinary diligence with which he laboured to con⯑quer his defects and natural infirmities, are too well known, and have been too frequently the [63] ſubjects of hiſtorians and critics, ancient and modern, to need a minute recital. His cha⯑racter as a ſtateſman will be beſt collected from the hiſtory of his conduct in the preſent tran⯑ſactions. As an orator, the reader perhaps is not to be informed of his qualifications. Indeed, the ſtudy of oratory was at that time the readieſt and almoſt the only means of riſing in the ſtate. His firſt eſſay at the bar was two years after this incident, when he called his guardians to ac⯑count for embezzling his patrimony, and reco⯑vered ſome part of it. This encouraged him ſome time after, to harangue before the people in their public aſſembly; but he acquitted himſelf ſo ill, that they hiſſed him: however, he ven⯑tured a ſecond time, but with no better ſucceſs than before, ſo that he went away aſhamed, confounded, and quite in deſpair. It was upon this occaſion that Satyrus the player accoſted him, and in a friendly way encouraged him to proceed. With this view he aſked him to re⯑peat to him ſome verſes of Sophocles, or Eu⯑ripedes, which he accordingly did: the other repeated them after him, but with ſuch a dif⯑ferent ſpirit and cadence, as made him ſenſible that he knew very little of elocution. But by his inſtructions, and his own perſeverance, he [64] at length made himſelf maſter of it; and by the methods before mentioned, corrected the im⯑perfections which were born with him, as well as the ill habits which he had contracted. It is not very clear whether this paſſage be rightly aſcribed to Satyrus, who ſeems to be confounded with Neoptolemus and Andronicus, who were likewiſe famous comedians; and Demoſthenes is ſaid to have been inſtructed by all the three.

With theſe advantages and improvements, he appeared again in public, and ſucceeded ſo well, that people flocked from all parts of Greece to hear him. From thence he was looked upon as the ſtandard of true eloquence; inſo⯑much that none of his countrymen have been put in compariſon with him; nor even among the Romans, any but Cicero. And though it has been made a queſtion by the ancient writers, to which of the two they ſhould give the pre⯑ſerence, they have not ventured to decide it, but have contented themſelves with deſcribing their different beauties, and ſhewing, that they were both perfect in their kind. His eloquence was grave and auſtere, like his temper; maſ⯑culine and ſublime, bold, forcible and impe⯑tuous; abounding with metaphors, apoſtrophes and interrogations; which, with his ſolemn [65] way of invoking and appealing to the gods, the planets, the elements, and the manes of thoſe who fell at Salamis and Marathon, had ſuch a wonderful effect upon his hearers, that they thought him inſpired. If he had not ſo much ſoftneſs and inſinuation as is often requiſite in an orator, it was not that he wanted art and de⯑licacy, when the caſe required it: he knew how to ſound the inclinations of the people, and to lead them to the point he aimed at; and ſome⯑times, by ſeeming to propoſe that which was directly the contrary. But his chief character⯑iſtic was vehemence, both in action and ex⯑preſſion; and indeed that was the qualification of all others moſt wanted at this time: for the people were grown ſo inſolent and imperious, ſo factious and divided, ſo jealous of the power of the democracy, and withal ſo ſunk into a ſtate of pleaſure and indolence, that no arts of perſuaſion would have been ſo effectual, as that ſpirit and reſolution, that force and energy of Demoſthenes, to humble them, to unite them, and to rouſe them into a ſenſe of their common danger.

But neither could Demoſthenes himſelf have made ſuch impreſſions on them, if his talent of ſpeaking had not been ſupported by their opi⯑nion of his integrity. It was that which added [66] weight and emphaſis to every thing he ſaid, and animated the whole. It was that which chiefly engaged their attention, and determined their counſels; when they were convinced that he ſpoke from his heart, and had no intereſt to manage, but that of the community: and this he gave the ſtrongeſt proofs of, in his zeal againſt Philip, who ſaid, He was of more weight againſt him than all the fleets and armies of the Athenians; and that he had no enemy but Demoſthenes. He was not wanting in his en⯑deavours to corrupt him, as he had moſt of the leading men in Greece: but this great orator withſtood all his offers; and, as it was obſerved, all the gold in Macedon could not bribe him.

When Philip found himſelf ſhut out of Greece by the Athenians, he turned his arms againſt thoſe remote places which depended on them, either as colonies, or as conqueſts; and particularly againſt the Olynthians, whom he had long looked upon with an evil eye; but had courted and cajoled them, whilſt he was otherwiſe employed. But he came now re⯑ſolved entirely to reduce them; and advancing towards the city, only ſent them a ſhort meſſage, to let them know, that one of theſe two points was become neceſſary; either that they muſt quit Olynthus, or he Macedonia. Whereupon [67] they ſent immediately to Athens for relief. The ſubject was debated there with great ſolemnity, and Demoſthenes was very earneſt in ſending them ſuccours: he was oppoſed by Demades and Hyperides. The opinion, however, of Demoſthenes prevailed; the people of Athens reſolved to unite againſt Philip, but the great difficulty lay in furniſhing the ſupplies: their principal fund, which had formerly ſerved the purpoſes of war, had long been converted to the uſe of the ſtage. The money ariſing from this fund was computed at a thouſand talents a-year; and a certain proportion of it was al⯑lotted to the citizens, to defray the charge of their admittance into the theatre. This diſtri⯑bution having been continued to them from the time of Pericles, they claimed it now as their right, eſpecially ſince they had lately obtained a law, which made it capital to propoſe the re⯑ſtoring the fund to the uſes for which it was originally granted. Hence it was that, upon any preſſing emergency, extraordinary taxes were to be raiſed; and they were laid ſo unequally, and collected with ſo much difficulty, that they ſel⯑dom anſwered the ſervice for which they were intended.

Demoſthenes treated this ſubject with the ut⯑moſt art and circumſpection. After ſhewing that [68] the Athenians were indiſpenſibly obliged to raiſe an army, in order to ſtop the enterprizes of their aſpiring enemy, he aſſerted, that the theatrical fund was the only probable means of ſupply. Theſe remonſtrances had ſome weight, but were not attended with deſerved ſucceſs. The Athenians ſent a reinforcement to Olyn⯑thus; but Philip, who had corrupted the prin⯑cipal men in the town, entered, plundered it, and ſold the inhabitants among the reſt of the ſpoil. Here he found much treaſure, which ſerved to aſſiſt him in his further encroach⯑ments.

In the mean time, the Thebans, being unable alone to terminate the war, which they had ſo long carried on againſt the Phocians, addreſſed Philip. Hitherto, as we before mentioned, he had obſerved a kind of neutrality with reſpect to the Sacred War; and he ſeemed to wait for an opportunity of declaring himſelf; that is, till both parties ſhould have weakened themſelves by a long war, which equally exhauſted both. The Thebans had now very much abated of that haughtineſs, and thoſe ambitious views, with which the victories of Epaminondas had inſpired them. The inſtant, therefore, they requeſted the alliance of Philip, he reſolved to eſpouſe the intereſt of that republic, in oppo⯑ſition [69] to the Phocians. He had not loſt ſight of the project he had formed of obtaining an entrance into Greece, in order to make himſelf maſter of it. To give ſucceſs to his deſign, it was proper for him to declare in favour of one of the two parties, which at that time divided all Greece; that is, either for the Thebans, or the Athenians and Spartans. He was not ſo void of ſenſe as to imagine, that the latter party would aſſiſt his deſign of carrying his arms into Greece. He therefore had no more to do but to join the Thebans, who offered themſelves voluntarily to him, and who ſtood in need of Philip's power, to ſupport themſelves in their declining condition: he therefore declared at once in their favour. But to give a ſpecious colour to his arms, beſides the gratitude he affected to have at heart for Thebes, in which he had been educated, he alſo pretended to make an honour of the zeal with which he was fired with regard to the violated god, and was very glad to paſs for a religious prince, who warmly eſpouſed the cauſe of the god and of the temple of Delphos, in order to conciliate, by that means, the eſteem and friendſhip of the Greeks.

There was nothing Philip had more at heart than to poſſeſs himſelf of Thermopylae, as it [70] opened him a paſſage into Greece; to appro⯑priate all the honour of the Sacred War to him⯑ſelf, as if he had been principal in that affair; and to preſide in the Pythian games. He was therefore deſirous of aiding the Thebans, and by their means to poſſeſs himſelf of Phocis. But then, in order to put this double deſign in exe⯑cution, it was neceſſary for him to keep it ſecret from the Athenians, who had actually declared war againſt Thebes; and who, for many years, had been in alliance with the Phocians. His buſineſs, therefore, was to make them change their meaſures, by placing other objects in their view; and, on this occaſion, the politics of Philip ſucceeded to a wonder.

The Athenians, who began to grow tired of a war, which was very burthenſome, and of little benefit to them, had commiſſioned Cteſi⯑phon, and Phrynon, to ſound the intentions of Philip, and in what manner he ſtood diſpoſed in regard to peace. Theſe related, that Philip did not appear averſe to it; and that he even ex⯑preſſed a great affection for the commonwealth. Upon this, the Athenians reſolved to ſend a ſolemn embaſſy, to enquire more ſtrictly into the truth of things, and to procure the laſt ex⯑planations, previouſly neceſſary to ſo important a negociation. Aeſchines and Demoſthenes were [71] among the ten ambaſſadors, who brought back three from Philip; viz. Antipater, Parmenio, and Eurylochus. All the ten executed their commiſſion very faithfully, and gave a very good account of it. Upon this, they were im⯑mediately ſent back, with full powers to con⯑clude a peace, and to ratify it by oaths. It was then Demoſthenes, who, in his firſt em⯑baſſy, had met ſome Athenian captives in Ma⯑cedonia, and had promiſed to return and ranſom them at his own expence, endeavoured to enable himſelf to keep his word; and, in the mean time, adviſed his colleagues to embark with the utmoſt expedition, as the republic had com⯑manded; and to wait, as ſoon as poſſible, upon Philip, in what place ſoever he might be. How⯑ever, theſe, inſtead of making a ſpeedy diſ⯑patch, as they were deſired, went like ambaſſa⯑dors, proceeded to Macedonia by land, ſtaid three months in that country, and gave Philip time to poſſeſs himſelf of ſeveral other ſtrong places belonging to the Athenians in Thrace. At laſt, meeting with the king of Macedonia, they agreed with him upon articles of peace; but he, having lulled them aſleep with the ſpecious pre⯑tence of a treaty, deferred the ratification of it from day to day. In the mean time he found means to corrupt the ambaſſadors, one after another, [72] by preſents, Demoſthenes excepted; who being but one, oppoſed his colleagues to no manner of purpoſe.

Philip being ſuffered quietly to purſue his march into Phocis, gained the ſtreights of Thermopylae, but did not immediately diſcover what uſe he intended to make of his entrance into Greece; but went on, according to his agreement with the Thebans, to put an end to the Phocian war, which he eaſily effected. His name and appearance ſtruck ſuch a terror among the Phocians, that though they had lately re⯑ceived a reinforcement of a thouſand heavy armed Spartans, under the command of their king Archidamus, they declined giving him battle, and ſent to treat with him, or rather to ſubmit themſelves to any terms that he would give them. He allowed Phalicus to retire, with eight thouſand men, being mercenaries, into Peloponeſus; but the reſt, who were the in⯑habitants of Phocis, were left at his mercy. As the diſpoſing of them was a matter wherein Greece in general was concerned, he did not think fit to act in it by his own private autho⯑rity, but referred it to the Amphyctions, whom he cauſed to be aſſembled for that purpoſe. But they were ſo much under his influence, that they ſerved only to give a ſanction to his deter⯑minations. [73] They decreed, that all the cities of Phocis ſhould be demoliſhed; that they who had fled, as being principally concerned in the ſa⯑crilege, ſhould be ſtigmatized as accurſed, and proſcribed as outlaws; that they who remained as inhabitants, ſhould be diſperſed in villages, and obliged to pay out of their lands a yearly tribute of ſixty talents, until the whole of what had been taken out of the temple ſhould be re⯑ſtored: they were likewiſe adjudged to loſe their ſeat in the council of the Amphyctions, wherein they had a double voice. This Philip got transferred to himſelf, which was a very material point, and may be looked upon as the principal ſtep towards his gaining that authority which he afterwards exerciſed in the affairs of Greece. At the ſame time he gained, in conjunction with the Thebans and Theſſalians, the ſuper⯑intendency of the Pythian games, which the Corinthians had forfeited, for their having taken part with the Phocians.

Philip having, by theſe plauſible methods, ſucceeded in this expedition, did not think it adviſeable, by attempting any thing further at preſent, to ſully the glory he had acquired by it, or to incenſe the body of the Grecians againſt him; wherefore he returned, in a tri⯑umphant manner, to his own dominions. After [74] ſettling his conqueſts at home, he marched into Theſſaly; and having extirpated the remains of tyranny in the ſeveral cities there, he not only confirmed the Theſſalians in his intereſt, but gained over many of their neighbours.

It was upon this occaſion that Philip is re⯑marked for an act of private juſtice, which far outweighs his public celebrity. A certain ſoldier, in the Macedonian army, had, in many in⯑ſtances, diſtinguiſhed himſelf by extraordinary acts of valour, and had received many marks of Philip's favour and approbation. On ſome occaſion he embarked on board a veſſel, which was wrecked by a violent ſtorm, and he himſelf caſt on the ſhore helpleſs and naked, and ſcarcely with the appearance of life. A Macedonian, whoſe lands were contiguous to the ſea, came opportunely to be witneſs of his diſtreſs; and, with all humane and charitable tenderneſs, flew to the relief of the unhappy ſtranger. He bore him to his houſe, laid him in his own bed, re⯑vived, cheriſhed, comforted, and for forty days ſupplied him freely with all the neceſſaries and conveniencies which his languiſhing condition could require. The ſoldier, thus happily reſ⯑cued from death, was inceſſant in the warmeſt expreſſions of gratitude to his benefactor, aſſured him, of his intereſt with the king, and of his [75] power and reſolution of obtaining for him, from the royal bounty, the noble returns which ſuch extraordinary benevolence had merited. He was now completely recovered, and his kind hoſt ſupplied him with money to purſue his journey. In ſome time after, he preſented himſelf before the king; he recounted his mis⯑fortunes, magnified his ſervices; and this in⯑human wretch, who had looked with an eye of envy on the poſſeſſions of the man who had preſerved his life, was now ſo abandoned to all ſenſe of gratitude, as to requeſt the king would beſtow upon him the houſe and lands where he had been ſo tenderly and kindly entertained. Unhappily Philip, without examination, incon⯑ſiderately and precipitately granted his infa⯑mous requeſt; and this ſoldier now returned to his preſerver, repaid his goodneſs by driving him from his ſettlement, and taking immediate poſſeſſion of all the fruits of his honeſt induſtry. The poor man, ſtung with this inſtance of un⯑paralleled ingratitude and inſenſibility, boldly determined, inſtead of ſubmitting to his wrongs, to ſeek relief; and, in a letter addreſſed to Philip, repreſented his own, and the ſoldier's conduct, in a lively and affecting manner. The king was inſtantly fired with indignation; he ordered that juſtice ſhould be done without [76] delay; that the poſſeſſions ſhould be imme⯑diately reſtored to the man whoſe charitable offices had been thus horridly repaid; and having ſeized his ſoldier, cauſed theſe words to be branded on his forehead—The Ungrateful Gueſt;—a character infamous in every age, and among all nations; but particularly among the Greeks, who, from the earlieſt times, were moſt ſcrupulouſly obſervant of the laws of hoſ⯑pitality.

Having ſtrengthened himſelf in theſe parts, he went the next year into Thrace, where he had formed a deſign againſt the Cherſoneſe. This peninſula had, with ſome little inter⯑ruption, been for many years in the hands of the Athenians; but Cotys, as being king of the country, had lately wreſted it from them, and left it in ſucceſſion to his ſon Cherſobleptes. He not being able to defend himſelf againſt Philip, gave it back to the Athenians, reſerving to him⯑ſelf only Cardia, the capital city. But Philip having ſoon after ſpoiled him of the reſt of his dominions, the Cardians, for fear of falling again under the power of the Athenians, threw them⯑ſelves into his protection. Diopithes, who was the chief of the Athenian colony lately ſent to the Cherſoneſe, conſidered this proceeding of Philip, in ſupporting the Cardians, as an act of [77] hoſtility againſt Athens; whereupon he invaded the maritime parts of Thrace, and carried away a great deal of booty. Philip being at this time in the upper part of the country, was not in a condition to do himſelf juſtice: but he wrote to complain of it at Athens, as an in⯑fraction of the peace; and his creatures there were not wanting on their part to aggravate the charge againſt Diopithes, as having acted with⯑out orders, and taking it upon himſelf to renew the war: they likewiſe accuſed him of com⯑mitting acts of piracy, and of laying their allies under contribution. But whatever grounds there were for this part of the accuſation, the go⯑vernment of Athens was principally to blame in it; for having no proper fund for the wars, they ſent out their generals without money or proviſions, and left them to ſhift for themſelves, and yet made them anſwerable for any miſcar⯑riages that ſhould happen, for want of their being better ſupplied. This was a great diſ⯑couragement to the ſervice, and put thoſe who were employed in it upon pillaging and plun⯑dering, in ſuch a manner, as they would other⯑wiſe have been aſhamed of. Demoſthenes, in an harangue that he made upon the ſtage of the Cherſoneſe, undertook the defence of Diopithes.

[78] Philip, however, was no way intimidated at the wordy reſiſtance of his eloquent antagoniſt; he went on with artful induſtry, quelling thoſe by his power who were unable to reſiſt, and thoſe by his preſents, whom he was unable to oppoſe. The diviſions that then ſubſiſted in Peloponeſus, gave him a pretext for inter⯑meddling in the affairs of the Greek confe⯑deracy. Theſe diviſions were chiefly owing to the Spartans; who, having little to do in the late foreign tranſactions, were recovering their ſtrength at home; and, according to their uſual practice, as they increaſed in power, made uſe of it to inſult and oppreſs their neighbours. The Argives and Meſſenians being at this time perſecuted by them, put themſelves under the protection of Philip; and the Thebans joining with them, they all together formed a powerful confederacy. The natural balance againſt it, was an union between Athens and Sparta, which the Spartans preſſed with great earneſtneſs, as the only means for their common ſecurity; and Philip and the Thebans did all in their power to prevent it. But Demoſthenes exerting him⯑ſelf upon this occaſion, rouſed up the Athe⯑nians, and put them ſo far upon their guard, that, without coming to an open rupture with Philip, they obliged him to deſiſt.

[79] Philip, however, did not continue idle upon this diſappointment. Ever reſtleſs and enter⯑priſing, he turned his views another way: he had long conſidered the iſland of Eubaea as pro⯑per, from its ſituation, to favour the deſigns he meditated againſt Greece; and, in the very be⯑ginning of his reign, had attempted to poſſeſs himſelf of it. He indeed ſet every engine to work at that time, in order to ſeize upon that iſland, which he called the ſhackles of Greece. But it nearly concerned the Athenians, on the other ſide, not to ſuffer it to fall into the hands of an enemy, eſpecially as it might be joined to the continent of Attica, by a bridge: however, that people, according to their uſual cuſtom, continued indolent, whilſt Philip purſued his conqueſts. The latter, who was continually at⯑tentive and vigilant, endeavoured to carry on an intelligence in the iſland; and, by dint of preſents, bribed thoſe who had the greateſt au⯑thority in it. At the requeſt of certain of the inhabitants, he ſent ſome troops privately thi⯑ther, poſſeſſed himſelf of ſeveral ſtrong places, diſmantled Porthmos, a very important fortreſs in Eubaea, and eſtabliſhed three tyrants, or kings, over the country.

The Athenians were conjured, in this di⯑ſtreſſing juncture, by one Plutarch, who was at [80] that time upon the iſland, to come and deliver the inhabitants from the yoke which Philip was going to impoſe upon them. Upon this, they diſpatched a few troops thither under the com⯑mand of Phocion, a general of whom great expectations were formed, and whoſe conduct well deſerved the favourable opinion the public had of him.

This man would have done honour to the early and leaſt corrupted times of the Athenian ſtate. His manners were formed in the aca⯑demy, upon the models of the moſt exact and rigid virtue. It was ſaid, that no Athenian ever ſaw him laugh, or weep, or deviate in any inſtance from the moſt fettled gravity and compoſure. He learned the art of war under Chabrias, and frequently moderated the ex⯑ceſſes, and corrected the errors of that general: his humanity he admired and imitated, and taught him to exert it in a more extenſive and liberal manner. When he had received his di⯑rections to ſail, with twenty ſhips, to collect the contributions of the allies and dependent cities; ‘"Why that force?" ſaid Phocion; "if I am to meet them as enemies, it is inſuffi⯑cient; if I am ſent to friends and allies, a ſingle veſſel will ſerve."’ He bore the ſeve⯑rities of a military life with ſo much eaſe, that [81] if Phocion ever appeared warmly cloathed, the ſoldiers at once pronounced it the ſign of a re⯑markably bad ſeaſon. His outward appearance was forbidding, but his converſation eaſy and obliging; and all his words and actions expreſſed the utmoſt affection and benevolence. In po⯑pular aſſemblies, his lively, cloſe, and natural manner of ſpeaking, ſeemed as it were the echo of the ſimplicity and integrity of his mind, and had frequently a greater effect than even the dignity and energy of Demoſthenes, who called him the pruner of his periods. He ſtudied only good ſenſe and plain reaſoning, and deſpiſed every adventitious ornament. In an aſſembly, when he was to addreſs the people, he was ſur⯑priſed by a friend, wrapped up in thought: ‘"I am conſidering," ſaid he, "whether I cannot retrench ſome part of my intended addreſs."’ He was ſenſible of the ill conduct of his country⯑men, and ever treated them with the greateſt ſeverity. He defied their cenſures; and ſo far did he affect to deſpiſe their applauſe, that at a time when his ſentiments extorted their appro⯑bation, he turned about in ſurpriſe, and aſked a friend, If any thing weak or impertinent had eſcaped him? His ſenſe of the degeneracy of Athens, made him fond of pacific meaſures. [82] He ſaw the deſigns of Philip, but imagined that the ſtate was too corrupted to give him any effectual oppoſition; ſo that he was of the number of thoſe men who, according to De⯑moſthenes in his third Phillipic oration, gave up the intereſts of the ſtate, not corruptly or ignorantly, but from a deſperate purpoſe of yielding to the fate of a conſtitution, thought to be irrecoverably loſt. He was of conſequence ever of the party oppoſite to Demoſthenes; and having been taught, by experience, to ſuſpect the popular leaders, conſidered his earneſtneſs to rouſe the Athenians to arms, as an artifice to embroil the ſtate, and by that means to gain an influence in the aſſembly. ‘"Phocion," ſaid Demoſthenes, "the people, in ſome mad fit, will certainly ſacrifice thee to their fury."’ ‘"Yes," replied he, "and you will be their victim, if ever they have an interval of reaſon."’ Yet they often pre⯑vailed on him to act againſt his judgment, though never to ſpeak againſt his conſcience. He never refuſed or declined the command, whatever might be his opinion of the expe⯑dition. Forty five times was he choſen to lead their armies; generally in his abſence, and ever without the leaſt application. They knew his [83] merit; and, in the hour of danger, forgot that ſeverity with which he uſually treated their in⯑clinations and opinions.

It was to him the Athenians gave the com⯑mand of the forces they ſent to the aid of Plutarch of Eretria. But this traitor repaid his benefactors with ingratitude; he ſet up the ſtan⯑dard againſt them, and endeavoured openly to repulſe the very army he had requeſted. How⯑ever, Phocion was not at a loſs how to act upon this unforeſeen perfidy; for he purſued his en⯑terpriſe, won a battle, and drove Plutarch from Eretria.

Theſe diſappointments, however, no way in⯑timidated Philip, or rendered him the leaſt remiſs in proſecuting his original deſign. He now, therefore, changed the method of his attack, and ſought for an opportunity of di⯑ſtreſſing Athens another way. He knew that this city, from the barrenneſs of Attica, ſtood in greater want of foreign corn than any other. To diſpoſe, at diſcretion, of their tranſports, and by that means ſtarve the Athenians, he marched towards Thrace, from whence that city imported the greateſt part of its proviſions, with an intention to beſiege Perinthus and Byzantium. To keep his kingdom in obedience [84] during his abſence, he left his ſon Alexander be⯑hind, with ſovereign authority, though he was fifteen years old. This young prince gave, even at that time, ſome proofs of his courage; having defeated certain neighbouring ſtates, ſubject to Macedonia, who had conſidered the king's abſence as a very proper time for exe⯑cuting the deſign they had formed of revolting. This happy ſucceſs of Alexander's firſt expe⯑ditions, was highly agreeable to his father, and at the ſame time an earneſt of what might be expected from him. But fearing leſt, allured by this dangerous bait, he ſhould abandon himſelf inconſiderately to his vivacity and fire, he ſent for him in order to become his maſter; and form him, in perſon, for the trade of war.

In the mean time, Philip opened the cam⯑paign with the ſiege of Perinthus, a conſider⯑able city of Thrace, and firmly attached to the Athenians. It was aſſiſted from Byzantium, a neighbouring city, which threw in ſuccours as occaſion required. Philip, therefore, reſolved to beſiege both at the ſame time. Still, how⯑ever, he was deſirous to appear cautious and tender of diſpleaſing the Athenians, whom he endeavoured to amuſe with the moſt profound [85] reſpect, mixed with well-timed abuſes, and the moſt flattering ſubmiſſion. Upon this oc⯑caſion, he wrote them a letter, reproaching them, in the ſtrongeſt terms, for their infraction of treaties, and his own religious obſervance of them. ‘"In the times of great enmity," ſays he, "the moſt you did was to fit out ſhips of war againſt me, and to ſeize and ſell the merchants that came to trade in my domi⯑nions; but now you carry your hatred and injuſtice to ſuch prodigious lengths, as even to ſend ambaſſadors to the king of Perſia, to make him declare againſt me."’

This letter gave the orators who undertook Philip's defence, a fine opportunity of juſtifying him to the people. Demoſthenes alone ſtood firm, and ſtill continued to expoſe his artful deſigns, and to break down all thoſe laboured ſchemes which were undertaken to deceive the people. Senſible, on this occaſion, how ne⯑ceſſary it was to remove the firſt impreſſions which the peruſal of this letter might make, he immediately aſcended the tribunal, and from thence harangued the people, with all the thunder of his eloquence. He told them, the letter was written in a ſtyle not ſuitable to the people of Athens; that it was a plain decla⯑ration [86] of war againſt them; that Philip had long ſince made the ſame declaration by his actions; and that, by the peace he had concluded with them, he meant nothing further than a bare ceſſation of arms, in order to gain time, and to take them more unprepared. From thence he proceeded to his uſual topic of reproving them for their ſloth, for ſuffering themſelves to be deluded by their orators who were in Philip's pay. ‘"Convinced by theſe truths," continued he, "O Athenians! and ſtrongly perſuaded that we can no longer be allowed to affirm that we enjoy peace, (for Philip has now de⯑clared war againſt us by his letter, and has long done the ſame by his conduct) you ought not to ſpare either the public treaſure, or the poſſeſſions of private perſons, but when occaſion ſhall require, haſte to your reſpective ſtandards, and ſet abler generals at your head, than thoſe you have hitherto employed; for no one among you ought to imagine, that the ſame men who have ruined your affairs, will have abilities to reſtore them to their former happy ſituation. Think how infamous it is, that a man from Macedon ſhould con⯑temn dangers to ſuch a degree, that merely to aggrandiſe his empire, he ſhould ruſh into [87] the midſt of combats, and return from battle covered with wounds; and that the Athenians, whoſe hereditary right it is to obey no man, but to impoſe law on others, ſword in hand; that Athenians, I ſay, merely through dejection of ſpirit and indolence, ſhould degenerate from the glory of their anceſtors, and aban⯑don the intereſt of their country!"’ To this expoſtulation, Phocion readily offered his voice and opinion. He urged the incapacity of the generals already choſen; and, in conſequence of his advice, he himſelf was appointed general of the army that was to go againſt Philip, who was ſtill beſieging Byzantium.

Phocion having led his troops to the ſuccour of the Byzantians, the inhabitants, on his ar⯑rival, opened their gates to him with joy, and lodged his ſoldiers in their houſes, as their own brothers and children. The Athenian officers and ſoldiers, ſtruck with the confidence repoſed in them, behaved with the utmoſt prudence and modeſty, and were entirely irreproachable in their conduct; nor were they leſs admired for their courage; and in all the attacks they ſuſtained, diſcovered the utmoſt intrepidity, which danger ſeemed only to improve. Pho⯑cion's prudence, ſeconded by the bravery of his [88] troops, ſoon forced Philip to abandon his de⯑ſign upon Byzantium and Perinthus. He was beat out of the Helleſpont, which diminiſhed very much his fame and glory; for he hitherto had been thought invincible, and nothing had been able to oppoſe him. Phocion took ſome of his ſhips, recovered many fortreſſes which he had garriſoned, and having made ſeveral deſcents into different parts of his territories, he plun⯑dered all the open country, till a body of forces aſſembling to check his progreſs, he was obliged to retire.

Philip, after having been forced to raiſe the ſiege of Byzantium, marched againſt Atheas king of Scythia; from whom he had received ſome perſonal cauſe of diſcontent, and took his ſon with him in this expedition. Though the Scythians had a very numerous army, he defeated them without any difficulty: he got a very great booty, which conſiſted not in gold or ſilver, the uſe and value of which the Scythians were not as yet ſo unhappy as to know, but in cattle, in horſes, and a great number of women and children.

At his return from Scythia, the Triballi, a people of Moeſia, diſputed the paſs with him, laying claim to part of the plunder he was car⯑rying [89] off. Philip was forced to come to a battle; and a very bloody one was fought, in which great numbers on each ſide were killed on the ſpot: the king himſelf was wounded in the thigh, and, with the ſame thruſt, had his horſe killed under him. Alexander flew to his father's aid, and covering him with his ſhield, killed, or put to flight all who attacked him.

The Athenians had conſidered the ſiege of Byzantium as an abſolute rupture, and an open declaration of war. The king of Macedon, who was apprehenſive of the conſequences of it, and dreaded very much the power of the Athenians, whoſe hatred he had drawn upon himſelf, made overtures of peace, in order to ſoften their re⯑ſentment. Phocion, little ſuſpicious, and ap⯑prehenſive of the uncertainty of military wants, was of opinion, that the Athenians ſhould accept his offers: but Demoſthenes, who had ſtudied more than Phocion the genius and character of Philip, and was perſuaded that, according to his uſual cuſtom, his only view was to impoſe upon the Athenians, prevented their liſtening to his pacific propoſals. When Philip found the Athenians would not treat with him, and that they were acting offenſively againſt him, eſ⯑pecially at ſea, where they blocked up his [90] ports, and put an entire ſtop to his commerce, he began to form new alliances againſt them, particularly with the Thebans and Theſſalians, without whom he knew he could not keep open his paſſage into Greece. At the ſame time he was ſenſible, that his engaging theſe powers to act directly againſt Athens, and in his own per⯑ſonal quarrel, would have ſo bad an aſpect, that they would not eaſily come into it. For which reaſon he endeavoured, underhand, to create new diſturbances in Greece, that he might take ſuch a part in them, as would beſt anſwer his views: and when the flame was kindled, his point was to appear rather to be called in as an aſſiſtant, than to act as a principal.

By the reſult of his machinations, he ſoon found an opportunity of raiſing diviſions be⯑tween the Locrians of Amphiſſa, and their ca⯑pital city. They were accuſed of having pro⯑faned a ſpot of ſacred ground, (which lay very near the temple of Delphos), by ploughing it, as the Phocians had done upon a former occa⯑ſion. In order to produce and widen this breach, Philip employed Aeſchines the orator, who by bribes was entirely devoted to him, to harangue at the aſſembly of the Amphyctions againſt this outrage upon the religion of their [91] country. Aeſchines was a man of great abilities, and only ſecond in eloquence to Demoſthenes. He had now a fair opportunity of raiſing com⯑motions, by appearing only intereſted for his country, and zealous for the glory and defence of Athens. With a paſſionate warmth, which is frequently the effect of artifice as well as of real patriotiſm, and which is moſt likely to de⯑ceive, and more particularly in popular aſſem⯑blies, by being conſidered as the indication of ſincerity, and the overflowings of a heart ho⯑neſtly affected, he boldly delivered his opi⯑nions. His ſentiments were echoed through the aſſembly by the friends of Philip; the tu⯑mult was kept up to drown all remonſtrances of caution and policy, and a reſolution was paſſed, that a deputation ſhould be ſent to Philip king of Macedon, inviting him to aſſiſt Apollo and the Amphyctions, and to repel the outrages of the impious Amphiſſoeans; and far⯑ther to declare, that he was conſtituted, by all the Greeks, member of the council of Amphyctions, and general and commander of their forces, with full and unlimited powers.

This welcome invitation and commiſſion, the fruit of all his ſecret practices, Philip received in Thrace, while he was yet on his return to [92] Macedon. He bowed with an affectionate re⯑verence to the venerable council, and declared his readineſs to execute their orders.

The inferior ſtates of Greece, and all thoſe whoſe ſimplicity and weakneſs rendered them inſenſible to the deſigns now forming by Philip, entirely approved of the act of the Amphyctions; and of the nomination of a prince to the com⯑mand of their forces, ſo eminent and illuſtrious for his piety, and ſo capable of executing the vengeance of Heaven. At Sparta and at Athens, this event was conſidered in a different manner. The firſt of theſe people, though poſ⯑ſeſſed but of a ſmall part of their ancient great⯑neſs, yet ſtill retained their pride, and ſeemed to have looked with a ſullen indignation at the ho⯑nours paid to Macedon: the Athenians had been long taught to dread the policy of Philip, and now their great popular leader repeatedly urged the neceſſity of ſuſpicion, and repreſented all the late tranſactions in the Amphyctionic council as the effects of Philip's intrigues, and a deſign againſt Greece in general, but more particularly againſt the welfare and liberty of Athens.

To counteract the zeal of Demoſthenes, and to prevent the effects of his inceſſant remon⯑ſtrances, [93] the minds of the people were alarmed with oracles and predictions, uttered with all ſolemnity from the ſacred tripod, and reported to the Athenians with all the veneration due to the dictates of Apollo. Vengeance was pro⯑nounced againſt all thoſe who ſhould preſume to oppoſe the king of Macedon, the deſtined in⯑ſtrument of Divine Juſtice; and the people were exhorted not to ſuffer artful and deſigning ora⯑tors, and popular leaders, to ſeduce them to their ruin.

In the mean time, Philip immediately got his troops together, and, with all the ſhow of re⯑ligious veneration, began to march, in order to chaſtiſe the irreverent Locrians: but he had far different aims; and inſtead of proceeding upon ſo ridiculous a commiſſion, made a ſudden turn, and ſeized upon Elatea, a capital city of Phocis, which was very well ſituated for awing the Thebans, of whom he began to grow jea⯑lous, and for preparing his way to Athens. But by ſo extraordinary a ſtep as this, he fairly threw off the maſk, and bade defiance to the whole body of Grecians. Thus was this enter⯑priſing prince, all of a ſudden, maſter of a port of the utmoſt conſequence; at the head of an army, capable of ſtriking terror into his op⯑poſers; at the diſtance of but two days march [94] from Attica; abſolute commander, as it were, of the citadel and fortreſs, both of Thebes and Athens; conveniently ſituated for receiving ſuccours from Theſſaly and Macedon; and en⯑tirely at liberty either to give battle to thoſe who might preſume to appear in arms againſt him, or to protract the war to any length that might be found convenient.

The news of Philip's recent tranſaction was quickly ſpread through the adjacent countries, and received with all the ſtupid and helpleſs aſtoniſhment of men rouſed from a long le⯑thargy, and awakened to a dreadful ſenſe of their danger, and of the real deſigns of their enemy. It was late in the evening when a cou⯑rier arriving at Athens, appeared before the Prytanes, and pronounced the dreadful tidings, that the king of Macedon had taken poſſeſſion of Elatea. Theſe magiſtrates, and all the other citizens, were now at ſupper, indulging them⯑ſelves in the pleaſures and gaieties of the table, when the news, which in an inſtant rung through all the city, rouſed them from their ſtate of eaſe, and put an end to all their ſeſtivity. The ſtreets and public places were inſtantly filled with a diſtracted concourſe; every man with terror and confuſion in his countenance, and every man ſolicitous for an immediate con⯑ſultation, [95] on an emergency ſo important and alarming. At the dawn of the ſucceeding day, the aſſembly met together, impreſſed with that conſternation which urgent danger naturally inſpires. The whole body of the people flocked to the ſenate-houſe, ſeized their places, and waited with the utmoſt anxiety for ſo important a deliberation. The herald, as was the cuſtom at Athens, aroſe, and cried out with a loud voice, ‘"Who among you will aſcend the tri⯑bunal?"’ All however was ſilence, terror and diſmay: he again repeated the invitation; but ſtill no one roſe up, though all the generals and orators were preſent. At length Demoſthenes, animated with the greatneſs of the approach⯑ing danger, aroſe, undaunted and unmoved in this ſcene of horror. With a countenance of ſerenity, the firm compoſure of a patriot, and the ſage diſcernment of a complete ſtateſ⯑man, he addreſſed himſelf to the aſſembly, in the following manner:— ‘"Athenians! permit me to explain the circumſtances of that ſtate which Philip has now ſeized upon. Thoſe of its citizens whom his gold could corrupt, or his artifice deceive, are all at his devotion. What then is his deſign? By drawing up his forces, and diſplaying his powers on the bor⯑ders of Thebes, he hopes to inſpire his ad⯑herents [96] with confidence and elevation, and to terrify and controul his adverſaries, that fear or force may drive them into thoſe meaſures which they have hitherto oppoſed. If then we are reſolved, in this conjuncture, to cheriſh the remembrance of every act of unkindneſs, which the Thebans have done to Athens; if we regard them with ſuſpicion, as men who have ranged themſelves on the ſide of our enemy; in the firſt place, we ſhall act agree⯑ably to Philip's warmeſt wiſhes; and then I am apprehenſive, that the party, who now oppoſe him, may be brought over to his in⯑tereſt; the whole city ſubmit unanimouſly to his direction; and Thebes and Macedon fall, with their united force, on Attica. Grant the due attention to what I ſhall now propoſe; let it be calmly weighed, without diſpute or cavil, and I doubt not but that my counſels may direct you to the beſt and moſt ſalutary meaſures, and diſpel the dangers now im⯑pending over the ſtate. What then do I re⯑commend?—Firſt, ſhake off that terror which hath poſſeſſed your minds; and, inſtead of fearing for yourſelves, let the Thebans be the objects of your apprehenſions: they are more immediately affected; they are the firſt to feel the dangers. In the next place, all thoſe of [97] the age for military ſervice, both infantry and cavalry, ſhould march inſtantly to Eleuſis, that Greece may ſee, that you are alſo aſ⯑ſembled in arms; and your friends in Thebes be emboldened to aſſert their rights, when they are aſſured, that as they who have ſold their country to the Macedonians, have a force at Elatea to ſupport them, ſo you are ready to aſſiſt the men who bravely contend for liberty. In the laſt place, I recommend to you to nominate ten ambaſſadors, who, with the generals, may have full authority to determine the time, and all other circum⯑ſtances of this march. When theſe ambaſſa⯑dors arrive at Thebes, how are they to con⯑duct this great affair? This is a point worthy of your moſt ſerious attention. Make no demands of the Thebans; at this conjuncture it would be diſhonourable: aſſure them that your aſſiſtance is ready for their acceptance, as you are juſtly affected by their danger, and have been ſo happy as to foreſee and to guard againſt it. If they approve of your ſentiments, and embrace your overtures, we ſhall effect our great purpoſe, and act with a dignity worthy of our ſtate. But ſhould it happen that we are not ſo ſucceſsful, what⯑ever misfortunes they may ſuffer, to them⯑ſelves [98] ſhall they be imputed; while your con⯑duct ſhall appear, in no one inſtance, incon⯑ſiſtent with the honour and renown of Athens."’

This oration, delivered with eaſe and reſo⯑lution, did not want its due effect; it was re⯑ceived with univerſal applauſe, and Demoſthenes himſelf was inſtantly choſen to head the embaſſy which he had now propoſed. A decree, in pur⯑ſuance of his advice, was drawn up in form; with an additional clauſe, that a fleet of two hundred ſail ſhould be fitted out, to cruize near Thermopylae.

In conſequence of this, Demoſthenes ſet out for Thebes, making the more haſte, as he was ſenſible that Philip might over-run Attica in two days. Philip, on the other hand, in order to oppoſe the eloquence of Demoſthenes, ſent ambaſſadors to Thebes, among whom was Python, who particularly diſtinguiſhed himſelf by the livelineſs of his orations. But his per⯑ſuaſive powers were far inferior to thoſe of Demoſthenes, who overcame all oppoſition. The maſculine eloquence of Demoſthenes was ir⯑reſiſtible; and kindled in the ſouls of the The⯑bans ſo warm a zeal for their country, and ſo ſtrong a paſſion for freedom, that they were no longer maſters of themſelves; laying aſide all [99] fear and gratitude, and all prudential con⯑ſiderations.

That which animated Demoſthenes, next to his public ſafety, was his having to do with a man of Python's abilities; and he ſome time after took occaſion to value himſelf upon the victory he had obtained over him, ‘"I did not give way," ſaid he, "to the boaſting Python, when he would have bore me down with a torrent of words."’ He gloried more in the ſucceſs of this negociation, than of any other he had been employed in, and ſpoke of it as his maſterpiece in politics.

Philip, quite diſconcerted by the union of theſe two nations, ſent ambaſſadors to the Athenians, to requeſt them not to levy an armed force, but to live in harmony with him. How⯑ever, they were too juſtly alarmed and exaſ⯑perated, to liſten to any accommodation; and would no longer depend on the word of a prince, whoſe whole aim was to deceive. In conſe⯑quence, preparations for war were made with the utmoſt diligence, and the ſoldiery diſcovered incredible ardour. However, many evil-diſ⯑poſed perſons endeavoured to extinguiſh or damp it, by relating fatal omens, and terrible pre⯑dictions, which the prieſteſs of Delphos was ſaid to have uttered. But Demoſthenes, con⯑fiding [100] firmly in the arms of Greece, and en⯑couraged wonderfully by the number and bra⯑very of the troops, who deſired only to march againſt the enemy, would not ſuffer them to be amuſed with theſe oracles and frivolous pre⯑dictions. It was on this occaſion, he ſaid, that the prieſteſs Philipized; meaning, that it was Philip's money that inſpired the prieſteſs, opened her mouth, and made the god ſpeak whatever ſhe thought proper. He bade the Thebans remember their Epaminondas, and the Athe⯑nians their Pericles; who conſidered theſe ora⯑cles and predictions as idle ſcare-crows, and conſulted only their reaſon. The Athenian army ſet out immediately, and marched to Eleuſis; and the Thebans, ſurpriſed at the diligence of their confederates, joined them, and waited the approach of the enemy.

Philip, on his part, well knowing that the bravery and ſpirit of his enemies wanted that direction which might enable them to improve their advantages, and conſcious alſo of his own abilities, and the weakneſs of thoſe generals who commanded the Greeks, determined to bring on a general engagement, where his ſuperior ſkill muſt appear of the greateſt moment. For this purpoſe he took a favourable opportunity of decamping, and led his army to the plain of [101] Chaeronea, a name rendered famous by the event of this important conteſt. Here he choſe his ſtation, in view of a temple dedicated to Hercules, the author of his race, as if reſolved to fight in his preſence; to make him witneſs of the actions of his deſcendant, and to com⯑mit his forces, and his cauſe, to the immediate protection of this hero. Some ancient oracles were preſerved, which ſeemed to point out the ſpot on which he now encamped, as the ſcene of ſome dreadful calamity to Greece.

His army was formed of thirty-two thou⯑ſand men, warlike, diſciplined, and long enur⯑ed to the toils and dangers of the field; but this body was compoſed of different nations and countries, who had each their diſtinct, and ſeparate views and intereſts. The army of the confederates did not amount to thirty thouſand complete; of which the Athenians and Thebans furniſhed the greateſt part: the reſt was formed of the Corinthians and Pelo⯑poneſians. The ſame motives, and the ſame zeal, influenced and animated them. All were equally affected by the event; and all equally reſolved to conquer or die in defence of liberty.

On the eve of the deciſive day, Diogenes, the famous cynic, who had long looked with [102] equal contempt on either party, was led by curioſity to viſit the camps as an unconcerned ſpectator. In the Macedonian camp, where his character and perſon were not known, he was ſtopped by the guards, and conducted to Philip's tent. The king expreſſed ſurpriſe at a ſtranger's preſuming to approach his camp; and aſked, with ſeverity, Whether he came as a ſpy? ‘"Yes," ſaid Diogenes, "I am come to ſpy upon your vanity and ambition, who thus wantonly ſet your life and kingdom to the hazard of an hour."’

And now the fatal morning appeared, which was for ever to decide the cauſe of liberty, and the empire of Greece. Before the riſing of the ſun, both armies were ranged in order of battle. The Thebans, commanded by Theogenes, a man of but moderate abilities in war, and ſu⯑ſpected of corruption, obtained the poſt of honour on the right wing of the confederated Greeks; with that famous body in the front, called the Sacred Band, formed of generous and warlike youths, connected and endeared to each other by all the noble enthuſiaſm of love and friendſhip. The center was formed of the Corinthians and Peloponeſians; and the Athenians compoſed the left wing, led by their generals, Lyſicles and Chares. On [103] the left of the Macedonian army ſtood Alexander, at the head of a choſen body of noble Macedo⯑nians, ſupported by the famous cavalry of Theſſaly. As this prince was then but nineteen years old, his father was careful to curb his youthful impetuoſity, and to direct his valour; and for this purpoſe ſurrounded him with a number of experienced officers. In the center were placed thoſe Greeks who had united with Philip, and on whoſe courage he had the leaſt dependence; while the king himſelf command⯑ed on the right wing, where his renowned phalanx ſtood, to oppoſe the impetuoſity with which the Athenians were well known to begin their onſet.

The charge began on each ſide with all the courage and violence which ambition, revenge, the love of glory, and the love of liberty, could excite in the ſeveral combatants. Alexander, at the head of the Macedonian nobles, firſt fell, with all the fury of youthful courage, on the Sacred Band of Thebas; which ſuſtained his attack with a bravery and vigour worthy of its former fame. The gallant youths who com⯑poſed this body, not being timely, or not duly ſupported by their countrymen, bore up for a while againſt the torrent of the enemy; till at [104] length, oppreſſed and overpowered by ſupe⯑rior numbers, without yielding or turning their backs on their aſſailants; they ſunk down on that ground where they had been originally ſtationed, each by the ſide of his darling friend, raiſing up a bulwark by their bodies againſt the progreſs of the army. But the young prince and his forces, in all the enthuſiaſtic ardor of valour, animated by ſucceſs, puſhed on through all the carnage, and over all the heaps of ſlain, and fell furiouſly on the main body of the Thebans; where they were oppoſed with obſtinate and deliberate cou⯑rage, and the conteſt was for ſome time ſup⯑ported with mutual violence.

The Athenians at the ſame time on the right wing, fought with a ſpirit and intrepidity, worthy of the character which they boaſted, and of the cauſe by which they were animated. Many brave efforts were exerted on each ſide, and ſucceſs was for ſome time doubtful; till at length part of the center, and the left wing of the Macedonians, (except the phalanx) yielded to the impetuous attack of the Athenians, and fled with ſome precipitation. Happy had it been on that day for Greece, if the conduct and abilities of the Athenian generals had been equal to the valour of their ſoldiers! but theſe brave [105] champions of liberty were led on by the de⯑ſpicable creatures of intrigue and cabal. Tranſ⯑ported by the advantage now obtained, the preſumptuous Lyſicles cried out, ‘"Come on, my gallant countrymen; the victory is ours; let us purſue theſe cowards, and drive them to Macedon:"’ and thus, inſtead of im⯑proving their happy opportunity, by charging the phalanx in flank, and ſo breaking this formidable body, the Athenians wildly and precipitately preſſed forward, in purſuit of the flying enemy; themſelves in all the tumult and diſorder of a rout. Philip ſaw this fatal error with the contempt of a ſkilful general, and the ſecret exultation ariſing from the aſſu⯑rance of approaching victory. He coolly ob⯑ſerved to thoſe officers that ſtood round him, That the Athenians knew not how to conquer; and ordered his phalanx to change its poſition, and, by a ſudden evolution, to gain poſſeſſion of an adjacent eminence. From thence they marched deliberately down, firm and collected, and fell, with their united force, on the Athe⯑nians, now confident of ſucceſs, and blind to their danger. The ſhock was irreſiſtible; they were at once overwhelmed; many of them lay cruſhed by the weight of the enemy, and expiring by their wounds; while the reſt eſcaped [106] from the dreadful ſlaughter, by a ſhameful and precipitate flight; bearing down, and hurrying away with them, thoſe troops which had been ſtationed for their ſupport. And here the re⯑nowned orator and ſtateſman, whoſe noble ſentiments and ſpirited harangues had raiſed the courage on this day ſo eminently exerted, betrayed that weakneſs which has ſullied his great character. He alone, of all his country⯑men, advanced to the charge, cold and diſ⯑mayed; and, at the very firſt appearance of a reverſe of fortune, in an agony of terror, turned his back, caſt away that ſhield which he had adorned with this inſcription, in golden characters, To Good Fortune; and appeared the foremoſt in the general rout. The ridicule and malice of his enemies, related, or perhaps invented another ſhameful circumſtance; that being impeded in his flight by ſome brambles, his imagination was ſo poſſeſſed with the pre⯑ſence of an enemy, that he loudly cried out for quarter.

While Philip was thus triumphant on his ſide, Alexander continued the conflict on the other wing, and at length broke the Thebans in ſpight of all their acts of valour, who now fled from the field, and were purſued with great carnage. The center of the confederates was [107] thus totally abandoned to the fury of a victori⯑ous enemy. But enough of ſlaughter had al⯑ready been made; more than one thouſand of the Athenians lay dead on the field of battle, two thouſand were made priſoners, and the loſs of the Thebans was not inferior. Philip therefore determined to conclude his important victory, by an act of apparent clemency, which his ambition and policy really dictated. He gave orders that the Greeks ſhould be ſpared, conſcious of his own deſigns, and ſtill expect⯑ing to appear in the field the head and leader of that body which he had now completely ſubdued.

Philip was tranſported with this victory be⯑yond meaſure, and having drank to exceſs at an entertainment which he gave upon that oc⯑caſion, went into the field of battle, where he inſulted over the ſlain, and upbraided the pri⯑ſoners with their misfortunes. He leaped and danced about in a frantic manner, and with an air of burleſque merriment ſung the beginning of the decree, which Demoſthenes had drawn up as a declaration of the war againſt him. Demades, who was of the number of the priſoners, had the courage to reproach him with this unge⯑nerous behaviour, telling him, That fortune had given him the part of Agamemnon, but [108] that he was acting that of Therſites. He was ſo ſtruck with the juſtneſs of this reproof, that it wrought a thorough change in him; and he was ſo far from being offended at Demades, that he immediately gave him his liberty, and ſhewed him afterwards great marks of honour and friendſhip. He likewiſe relieved all the Athenian captives, and without ranſom; and when they found him ſo generouſly diſpoſed towards them, they made a demand of their baggage, with every thing elſe that had been taken from them; but to that Philip replied, ‘"Surely they think I have not beat them."’ This diſcharge of the priſoners was aſcribed in a great meaſure to Demades, who is ſaid to have new-modelled Philip. and to have ſoften⯑ed his temper with the Attic graces, as Dio⯑dorus expreſſes it: indeed Philip himſelf acknow⯑ledged upon another occaſion, that his fre⯑quent converſe with the Athenian orators, had been of great uſe to him in correcting his mo⯑rals. Juſtin repreſents his carriage after the battle in a very different light; alleging that he took abundance of pains to diſſemble his joy; that he affected great modeſty and compaſſion, and was not ſeen to laugh; that he would have no ſacriſice, no crowns nor perfumes; that he forbade all kinds of ſports; and did nothing [109] that might make him appear to the conquerors to be elated, nor to the conquered, to be in⯑ſolent. But this account ſeems to have been confounded with others which were given of him, after his being reformed by Demades. It is certain that after his firſt tranſport was over, and that he began to recollect himſelf, he ſhewed great humanity to the Athenians; and that in order ſtill to keep meaſures with them, he renewed the peace. But the The⯑bans, who had renounced their alliance with him, he treated in another manner. He who affected to be as much maſter of his allies as of his ſubjects, could not eaſily pardon thoſe who had deſerted him in ſo critical a conjunc⯑ture. Wherefore he not only took ranſom for their priſoners, but made them pay for leave to bury their dead. After theſe ſeverities, and after having placed a ſtrong garriſon over them, he granted them a peace.

We are told that Iſocrates, the moſt cele⯑brated rhetorician of that age, who loved his country with the utmoſt tenderneſs, could not ſurvive the loſs and ignominy with which it was covered, by the loſs of the battle of Chaeronea. The inſtant he received the news of its being uncertain what uſe Philip would make of his victory, and determined to die a [110] freeman, he haſtened his end by abſtaining from food; he was fourſcore and eighteen years of age. This defeat was attributed chief⯑ly to the ill conduct of the Generals Lyſicles and Chares; the former whereof the Athenians put to death at the inſtance of Lycurgus, who had great credit and influence with the people, but was a ſevere judge, and a moſt bitter accuſer. ‘"You Lyſicles, ſaid he, were general of the army; a thouſand citizens were ſlain, two thouſand taken priſoners; a trophy has been erected to the diſhonour of this city, and all Greece is enſlaved. You had the command when all theſe things happened; and yet you dare to live, and view the light of the ſun, and bluſh not to appear publicly in the forum; you Lyſicles, who are born the monu⯑ment of your country's ſhame!"’ This Lycur⯑gus was one of the orators of the firſt rank, and free from the general corruption which then reigned among them. He managed the public treaſure for twelve years with great uprightneſs, and had all his life long the re⯑putation of a man of honour and virtue. He encreaſed the ſhipping, ſupplied the arſenal, drove the bad men out of the city, and fram⯑ed ſeveral good laws. He kept an exact re⯑giſter of every thing he did during his ad⯑miniſtration; [111] and when that was expired, he cauſed it to be fixed up to a pillar, that every body might be at liberty to inſpect it, and to cenſure his conduct. He carried this point ſo far, that, in his laſt ſickneſs he ordered him⯑ſelf to be carried to the Senate-houſe to give a public account of all his actions, and after he had refuted one who accuſed him there, he went home and died. Notwithſtanding the auſterity of his temper, he was a great en⯑courager of the ſtage; which though it had been carried to an exceſs that was manifeſtly hurtful to the public, he ſtill looked upon as the beſt ſchool to inſtruct and poliſh the minds of the people. And to this end, he kept up a ſpirit of emulation among the writers of Tragedy, and erected the ſtatues of Aeſchylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. He left three ſons who were unworthy of him, and behaved ſo ill, that they were all put in priſon; but Demoſthenes, out of regard to the memory of their father, got them diſcharged.

It does not appear that Chares underwent any proſecution for his ſhare of this action; though according to his general character, he deſerved it as much or more than his colleague. For he had no talent for command, and was very little different from a common ſoldier. [112] Timotheus ſaid of him, ‘"That inſtead of being a general, he was fitter to carry the general's baggage."’ His perſon indeed was of that robuſt kind of make; and it was that which ſerved in ſome meaſure to recommend him to the people. But he was more a man of pleaſure than fatigue. In his military expe⯑ditions, he was wont to carry with him a band of muſic; and he defrayed the expence of it out of the ſoldiers' pay. Notwithſtanding his want of abilities, he had a thorough good opi⯑nion of himſelf. He was vain and poſitive, bold and boiſterous; a great undertaker, and always ready to warrant ſucceſs; but his per⯑formances ſeldom anſwered; and hence it was, that the promiſes of Chares became a proverb: And yet as little as he was to be depended on, he had his partizans among the people, and among the orators, by whoſe means he got himſelf to be frequently employed, and others to be excluded who were more capable.

But it was Demoſthenes who ſeemed to have been the principal cauſe of the terrible ſhock which Athens received at this time, and which gave its power ſuch a wound, as it never reco⯑vered. However, at the very inſtant the Athe⯑nians heard of this bloody overthrow, which affected ſo great a number of families, when it [113] would have been no wonder, had the multi⯑tude, ſeized with terror and alarms, given way to an emotion of blind zeal, againſt the man whom they might have conſidered in ſome mea⯑ſure as the author of this dreadful calamity; even at this very inſtant, I ſay, the people ſub⯑mitted entirely to the councils of Demoſthenes. The precautions that were taken to poſt guards to raiſe the walls, and to repair the ditches, were all in conſequence of his advice. He himſelf was appointed to ſupply the city with proviſions, and to repair the walls, which latter commiſſion he executed with ſo much genero⯑ſity, that it acquired him the greateſt honour; and for which, at the requeſt of Cteſiphon, a crown of gold was decreed him as a reward for his having preſented the commonwealth with a ſum of money out of his own eſtate, ſuffici⯑ent to defray what was wanting of the ſums for repairing the walls.

On the preſent occaſion, that is, after the battle of Chaeronea, ſuch orators as oppoſed Demoſthenes, having all riſen up in concert againſt him, and having cited him to take his trial according to law, the people not only de⯑clared him innocent of the ſeveral accuſations laid to his charge, but conferred more honours upon him than he had enjoyed before; ſo [114] ſtrongly did the veneration they had for his zeal and fidelity overbalance the efforts of calumny and malice.

But the people did not ſtop here. The bones of ſuch as had been killed in the battle of Chaeronea having been brought to Athens to be interred, they appointed Demoſthenes to compoſe the eulogium of thoſe brave men; a manifeſt proof that they did not aſcribe to him the ill ſucceſs of the battle, but to Provi⯑dence only, who diſpoſes of human events at pleaſure.

It was in this year that Aeſchines drew up an accuſation againſt Cteſiphon, or rather againſt Demoſthenes, which was the moſt remarkable that ever appeared before any tribunal; not ſo much for the object of the conteſt, as for the greatneſs and ability of the ſpeakers. Cteſiphon, a partizan and friend of Demoſt⯑henes, brought a cauſe before the aſſembly of the people, in which he urged that a decree ſhould be paſſed, giving a golden crown to Demoſthenes. This decree was ſtrongly op⯑poſed by Aeſchines, the rival of Demoſthenes, as well in eloquence as in ambition.

No cauſe ever excited ſo much curioſity, nor was pleaded with ſo much pomp. Peo⯑ple flocked to it from all parts, and [115] they had great reaſon for ſo doing; for what ſight could be nobler, than a conflict be⯑tween two orators, each of them excellent in his way, both formed by nature, im⯑proved by art, and animated by perpetual diſſentions, and an implacable animoſity againſt each other.

The juncture ſeemed to favour Aeſchines very much; for the Macedonian party, whom he al⯑ways befriended, was very powerful in Athens, eſpecially after the ruin of Thebes. Never⯑theleſs Aeſchines loſt his cauſe, and was juſtly ſentenced to baniſhment for his raſh accuſation. He thereupon went, and ſettled himſelf in Rhodes, where he opened a ſchool of elo⯑quence, the fame and glory of which con⯑tinued for many ages. He began his lectures with the two orations that had occaſioned his baniſhment. Great encomiums were given to that of Aeſchines; but when they heard that of Demoſthenes, the plaudits and acclamations were redoubled. And it was then he ſpoke theſe words, ſo greatly laudable in the mouth of an enemy and a rival: ‘"Alas! what applauſes would you not have beſtowed, had you heard Demoſthenes ſpeak it himſelf?"’

Demoſthenes thus become victor, made a good uſe of his conqueſt. For the inſtant Aeſchines left [116] Athens, in order to embark for Rhodes, De⯑moſthenes ran after him, and forced him to ac⯑cept of a purſe of money. On this occaſion, Aeſchines cried out, How will it be poſſible for me not to regret a country, in which I leave an enemy more generous, than I can hope to find friends in any other part of the world?

In the mean time, Philip had his ambition pleaſed, but not ſatisfied with his laſt victory; he had one object long in view, and that he never loſt ſight of; this was to get himſelf ap⯑pointed in the Aſſembly of the Greeks, their chief general againſt the Perſians. It had long been the object, not only of the confederate ſtates, but alſo of the neighbouring Greek nations, to revenge upon the kingdom of Per⯑ſia, the injuries they had ſuſtained from it; and to work the total deſtruction of that Empire. This was an object which had early inflamed the mind of Philip, and his late victory paved the way to it. He therefore got himſelf de⯑clared Generaliſſimo of the Greek forces, and accordingly made preparations to invade that mighty Empire.

But whilſt Philip was thus ſucceſsful in poli⯑tics and war, the domeſtic diviſions that reign⯑ed in his family, embittered his happineſs, and at laſt cauſed his deſtruction. He had mar⯑ried [117] Olympias, the daughter of the king of Epirus, and the early part of their union was crowned with happineſs; but her ill temper ſoon clouded that dawn which promiſed ſo much felicity; ſhe was naturally jealous, vin⯑dictive and paſſionate, and their diſſentions were carried to ſuch a degree, that Philip was often heard to wiſh for death. But his paſſion for Cleopatra, niece to Attalus, his general, com⯑pleted their ſeparation. As Cleopatra was no leſs amiable in her temper and accompliſh⯑ments than in the extraordinary graces of her perſon, Philip conceived that he ſhould con⯑ſult his own happineſs moſt effectually, by form⯑ing an inviolable and perpetual union with this lady; and, without the leaſt heſitation, reſolv⯑ed to ſeparate himſelf for ever from the prin⯑ceſs who had long appeared ſo great an enemy to his tranquillity. In vain did Alexander his ſon remonſtrate, that by divorcing Olympias, and engaging in a ſecond marriage, he expoſed him to the danger of contending with a num⯑ber of competitors for the crown, and render⯑ed his ſucceſſion precarious. ‘"My ſon, ſaid the king, if I create you a number of competi⯑tors, you will have the glorious opportunity of exerting yourſelf to ſurpaſs them in merit. Thus ſhall their rivalſhip by no means affect [118] your title."’ His marriage with Cleopatra was now declared in form, and celebrated with all the grandeur and ſolemnity which the great occaſion demanded. The young prince how⯑ever diſſatisfied, was yet obliged to attend on theſe ſolemnities, and ſat in ſilent indignation at that feaſt which proclaimed the diſgrace of his mother. In ſuch circumſtances, his youth⯑ful and impetuous mind could not but be ſu⯑ſceptible of the ſlighteſt irritation. Attalus the uncle of the new queen, forgetting that juſt caution, which ſhould have taught him to be ſcrupulouſly obſervant to avoid offending the prince, intoxicated by the honours paid to his kinſwoman, as well as by the preſent feſti⯑vity, was raſh enough to call publicly on the Macedonian nobles to pour out their libations to the gods, that they might grant the king the happy fruits of the preſent nuptials, and legitimate heirs to his throne. Wretch! cried Alexander, with his eyes ſparkling with that fury and vexation which he had till now ſup⯑preſſed, doſt thou then call me baſtard? and inſtantly darted his goblet at Attalus, who re⯑turned the outrage with double violence. Cla⯑mour and confuſion aroſe, and the king, in a ſudden fit of rage, ſnatched his ſword, and flew directly towards his ſon. His precipita⯑tion, [119] his lameneſs, and the quantity of wine in which he had by this time indulged, hap⯑pily diſappointed his raſh purpoſe; he ſtum⯑bled and fell on the floor, while Alexander, with an unpardonable inſolence, cried out, ‘"Behold, ye Macedonians! this is the king who is preparing to lead you into Aſia; ſee where in paſſing from one table to another, he is fallen to the ground."’

Philip however, did not loſe ſight of the con⯑queſts of Aſia. Full of the mighty project he re⯑volved, he conſulted the gods to know what would be the event of it; and the prieſteſs replied, The victim is already crowned, his end draws nigh, and he will ſoon be ſacrificed. Philip hearing this, did not heſitate a moment, but interpreted the oracle in his own favour; the ambiguity of which ought at leaſt to have kept him in ſome ſuſpence. In order therefore, that he might be in a condition to apply entirely to his expedi⯑tion againſt the Perſians, and elevate himſelf ſolely to the conqueſt of Aſia, he diſpatched with all poſſible diligence his domeſtic affairs. After this, he offered up a ſolemn ſacrifice to the gods; and prepared to celebrate with incredible magnificence in Egae, a city of Macedonia, the nuptials of Cleopatra his daughter, whom he gave in marriage to Alexander king of Epirus, [120] and brother to Olympias his queen. He had invited to it the moſt conſiderable perſons of Greece, and heaped upon them friendſhip and honours of every kind, by way of gratitude for electing him Generaliſſimo of the Greeks. The cities made their court to him in emulation of each other, by ſending him gold crowns; and Athens diſtinguiſhed its zeal above all the reſt. Neoptolemus, the poet, had written purpoſely for that feſtival, a tragedy entitled Cinyras, in which under borrowed names, he repreſented this prince as already victor over Darius, and maſter of Aſia. Philip liſtened to theſe happy preſages with joy; and, comparing them with the anſwer of the oracle, aſſured himſelf of conqueſt. The day after the nuptials, games, and ſhows were ſolemnized. As theſe formed part of the religious worſhip, there were car⯑ried in it, with great pomp and ceremony, twelve ſtatues of the gods, carved with in⯑imitable art; a thirteenth that ſurpaſſed them all in magnificence, repreſented Philip as a god. The hour for his leaving the palace arrived, he went forth in a white robe; and advanced with an air of majeſty, in the midſt of acclamations, towards the theatre, where an infinite multitude of Mace⯑donians, [121] as well as foreigners, waited his coming with impatience.

But this magnificence only ſerved to make the cataſtrophe more remarkable, and to add ſplendor to ruin. Some time before, Attalus, inflamed with wine at an entertainment, had inſulted in the moſt ſhocking manner Pauſanias a young Macedonian nobleman. The latter had long endeavoured to revenge the cruel affront, and was perpetually imploring the king's juſtice. But Philip, unwilling to diſguſt Attalus, uncle to Cleopatra, whom, as was before obſerved, he had married after his divorcing Olympias his firſt queen, would never liſten to Pauſanias's complaints. However, to conſole him in ſome meaſure, and to expreſs the high eſteem he had for, and the great confidence he repoſed in him, he made him one of the chief officers of his life-guard. But this was not what the young Macedonian required, whoſe anger now ſwelling to fury againſt his judge, he formed the deſign of wiping out his ſhame, by imbruing his hands in the blood of his ſovereign.

And now while this unhappy youth continu⯑ed brooding over thoſe malignant paſſions which diſtracted and corroded his mind, he happened to go into the ſchool of one Hermo⯑crates, who profeſſed to teach philoſophy; to [122] whom he propoſed the following queſtion: What ſhall that man do, who wiſhes to tranſ⯑mit his name with luſtre to poſterity? Hermo⯑crates, either artfully and from deſign, or the natural malignity of his temper, replied, ‘"He muſt kill him who hath atchieved the greateſt actions; thus ſhall the memory of the hero be joined with his who ſlew him, and both de⯑ſcend together to poſterity."’ This was a maxim highly agreeable to Pauſanias, in the preſent diſpoſition of his mind; and thus various ac⯑cidents and circumſtances, concurred to in⯑flame thoſe dangerous paſſions which now poſ⯑ſeſſed him, and to prompt him to the dreadful purpoſe of ſatiating his revenge.

The preſent ſolemnity was that which Pau⯑ſanias choſe to put his dreadful deſign into execution. Philip, cloathed in a white flowing robe, waving in ſoft and graceful folds, the habiliments in which the Grecian deities were uſually repreſented, moved forward with an heart filled with triumph and exultation, while the admiring crowds ſhouted forth their flattering applauſe. His guards had orders to keep at a conſiderable diſtance from his perſon, to ſhew that the king confided in the affections of his people, and had not the leaſt apprehen⯑ſions of danger amidſt all this mixed concourſe [123] of different ſtates and nations. Unhappily the danger was but too near him. The injured Pauſanias had not yet forgot his wrongs, but ſtill retained thoſe terrible impreſſions which the ſenſe of the indignity he had received, and the artful and intereſted repreſentations of others, fixed deeply in his mind. He choſe this fatal morning for the execution of his re⯑venge on the prince who had denied reparation to his injured honour. His deſign had been for ſome time premeditated, and now was the dreadful moment of effecting it. As Philip marched on in all his pride and pomp, this young Macedonian ſlipped through the crowd, and with a deſperate and malignant reſolution waited his approach in a narrow paſſage, juſt at the entrance into the theatre. The king advanced towards him, Pauſanias drew his poniard, plunged it into his heart, and the conqueror of Greece, and terror of Aſia, fell proſtrate to the ground, and inſtantly expired.

The murderer flew towards the gates of the city, where there ſtood horſes ready to favour his eſcape, which Olympias herſelf is ſaid to have prepared. The tumult and confuſion was ſuch as might be expected from ſo fatal an event; ſome of the Macedonians crowded round the fallen king with officious and ineffectual [124] care, while others purſued Pauſanias. Among theſe were Perdicas, Attalus and Leonatus; the firſt who excelled in ſwiftneſs came up to the aſſaſſin, where he was juſt preparing to mount his horſe, but being by his precipitation intangled in ſome vines, a violent effort to ex⯑tricate his foot, brought him ſuddenly to the ground. As he prepared to riſe, Perdicas was upon him, and with his companions, ſoon diſpatched him by the repeated wounds which their fury inflicted. His body was immediately hung on a gibbet, but, in the morning appear⯑ed crowned with a golden diadem; the only means by which Olympias could now expreſs her implacable reſentment. In a few days in⯑deed, ſhe took a further occaſion of publiſhing her triumph and exultation in her huſband's fall, by paying the ſame funeral honours to Pauſanias, which were prepared for Philip; both bodies were burnt on the ſame pile, and the aſhes of both depoſited in the ſame tomb. She is even ſaid to have prevailed on the Mace⯑donians to pay annual honours to Pauſanias; as if ſhe feared that the ſhare ſhe had taken in the death of Philip, ſhould not be ſufficiently known to the world. She conſecrated to Apollo the dagger which had been the inſtru⯑ment of the fatal deed, inſcribed with the name [125] Myrtalis, the name which ſhe had borne when their loves firſt began.

Thus died Philip, whoſe virtues and vices were directed and proportioned to his am⯑bition. His moſt ſhining and exalted qualities were influenced in a great meaſure by his love of power; and even the moſt exceptionable parts of his conduct were principally deter⯑mined by their conveniency and expediency. If he was unjuſt, he was, like Caeſar, unjuſt for the ſake of Empire. If he gloried by the ſuc⯑ceſs acquired by his virtues and his intellectual accompliſhments, rather than in that which the force of arms could gain, the reaſon which he himſelf aſſigned, points out his true prin⯑ciple. ‘"In the former caſe, ſaid he, the glory is intirely mine; in the other, my ge⯑nerals and ſoldiers have their ſhare."’

The news of Philip's death was a joyful ſur⯑prize in Greece, and particularly in Athens, where the people crowned themſelves with garlands, and decreed a crown to Pauſanias. They ſacrificed to the gods for their deliverance, and ſung ſongs of triumph; as if Philip had been ſlain by them in battle. But this exceſs of joy did ill become them. It was looked upon as an ungenerous and unmanly inſult upon the aſhes of a murdered prince, and of [126] one whom they juſt before had revered, and crouched to in the moſt abject manner. Theſe immoderate tranſports were raiſed in them by Demoſthenes, who having the firſt intelligence of Philip's death, went into the aſſembly unuſu⯑ally gay and chearful, with a chaplet on his head, and in a rich habit, though it was then but the ſeventh day after the death of his daughter. From this circumſtance, Plutarch, at the ſame time that he condemns the beha⯑viour of the Athenians in general upon this occaſion, takes an opportunity to juſtify Demoſt⯑henes, and extols him as a patriot, for not ſuffering his domeſtic afflictions to interfere with the good fortune of the commonwealth. But he certainly might have acted the part of a good citizen with more decency, and not have given up to inſult, what was due to good manners.

CHAP. III. From the Birth of ALEXANDER, to his ſetting out for ASIA.

A. M. 364 [...]. Ante J. C. 356. ALEXANDER the ſon of Philip aſcend⯑ed the throne upon the death of his father, and took poſſeſſion of a kingdom rendered flouriſhing and powerful by the policy of the preceding reign.

He came into the world the very day the celebrated Temple of Diana at Epheſus was burnt, upon which occaſion the report goes, that Hegeſias the hiſtorian was heard to ſay, That it was no wonder the temple was burnt, as Diana was that day employed at the delivery of Olympias, to facilitate the birth of Alexander.

The paſſion which prevailed moſt in Alex⯑ander, even from his tender years, was ambi⯑tion, and an ardent deſire of glory; but not for every ſpecies of glory. Philip like a ſophiſt, valued himſelf upon his eloquence, and the beauty of his ſtyle; and had the vanity to have engraved on his coins the ſeveral victories he [128] had won at the Olympick games in the chariot race. But it was not after ſuch empty honours that his ſon aſpired. His friends aſked him one day, Whether he would not be preſent at the games abovementioned, in order to diſpute the prize beſtowed on that occaſion? for he was very ſwift of foot. He anſwered, That he would contend in them, provided kings were to be his antagoniſts.

Every time news was brought him that his father had taken ſome city, or gained ſome great battle, Alexander ſo far from ſharing in the general joy, uſed to ſay in a plaintive tone of voice, to the young perſons that were brought up with him, Friends, my father will poſſeſs himſelf of every thing, and leave nothing for me to do.

One day ſome ambaſſadors from the king of Perſia being arrived at court during Philip's abſence, Alexander gave them ſo kind and ſo polite a reception, and regaled them in ſo noble and generous a manner as charmed them all; but that which moſt ſurprized them was, the good ſenſe and judgment he diſcovered in the ſeveral converſations they had with him. He did not propoſe to them any thing that was trifling, and like one of his age; ſuch for inſtance, as enquiring about the ſo much [129] boaſted gardens ſuſpended in the air, the riches and magnificence of the palace; and court of the king of Perſia, which excited the admi⯑ration of the whole world; the famous golden plantane-tree; and that golden vine, the grapes of which were of emeralds, carbuncles, rubies, and all ſorts of precious ſtones, under which the Perſian monarch was ſaid frequently to give audience. Alexander, I ſay, aſked them queſ⯑tions of a quite different nature; enquiring which was the road to Upper Aſia; the diſtance of the ſeveral places; in what the ſtrength and power of the king of Perſia conſiſted; in what part of the battle he fought; how he behaved towards his enemies, and in what manner he governed his ſubjects. Theſe ambaſſadors ad⯑mired him all the while; and perceiving, even at that time, how great he might one day be⯑come, they obſerved, in a few words, the dif⯑ference they found between Alexander and Ar⯑taxerxes, by ſaying one to another, ‘"This young prince is great, and ours is rich: that man muſt be vaſtly inſignificant, who has no other merit than his riches!"’

So ripe a judgment in this young prince, was owing as much to the good education which had been given him, as to the happineſs [130] of his natural parts. Several preceptors were appointed to teach him all ſuch arts and ſci⯑ences as are worthy the heir to a great king⯑dom; and the chief of theſe was Leonidas, a perſon of the moſt ſevere morals, and a relation to the queen. This Leonidas, in their journies together, uſed frequently to look into the trunks where his beds and cloaths were laid, in order to ſee if Olympias, his mother, had not put ſome⯑thing ſuperfluous into them, which might ad⯑miniſter to delicacy and luxury.

But the greateſt ſervice Philip did his ſon, was appointing Ariſtotle his preceptor, the moſt famous and the moſt learned philoſopher of his age, whom he intruſted with the whole care of his education. One of the reaſons which prompted Philip to chuſe him a maſter of ſo conſpicuous reputation and merit, was, as he himſelf tells us, that his ſon might avoid committing a great many faults, of which he himſelf had been guilty.

Philip was ſenſible how great a treaſure he poſſeſſed in the perſon of Ariſtotle; for which reaſon he ſettled a very genteel ſtipend upon him, and afterwards rewarded his pains and care in an infinitely more glorious manner; for hav⯑ing deſtroyed and laid waſte the city of Stagira, [131] the native place of that philoſopher, he rebuilt it, purely out of affection for him; reinſtated the inhabitants, who had fled from it, or were made ſlaves, and gave them a fine park in the neighbourhood of Stagira, as a place for their ſtudies and aſſemblies. Even in Plutarch's time, the ſtone ſeats which Ariſtotle had placed there were ſtanding; as alſo ſpacious viſtoes, under which thoſe who walked were ſhaded from the ſun-beams.

Alexander likewiſe diſcovered no leſs eſteem for his maſter, whom he believed himſelf bound to love as much as if he had been his father; declaring, That he was indebted to the one for living, and to the other for living well. The progreſs of the pupil was equal to the care and abilities of the preceptor. He grew vaſtly fond of philoſophy, and learned the ſeveral parts of it; but in a manner ſuitable to his birth. Ariſtotle endeavoured to improve his judgment, by laying down ſure and certain rules, by which he might diſtinguiſh juſt and ſolid reaſoning from what is but ſpeciouſly ſo; and by accuſtoming him to ſeparate in diſ⯑courſe all ſuch parts as only dazzle, from thoſe which are truly ſolid, and conſtitute its whole value. But Alexander applied himſelf chiefly [132] to morality, which is properly the ſcience of kings, becauſe it is the knowledge of mankind, and of their duties. This he made his ſerious and profound ſtudy; and conſidered it even at that time as the foundation of prudence and wiſe policy.

The greateſt maſter of rhetoric that antiquity could ever boaſt, and who has left ſo excellent a treatiſe on that ſubject, took care to make that ſcience part of his pupil's education; and we find that Alexander, even in the midſt of his conqueſt, was often very urgent with Ari⯑ſtotle to ſend him a treatiſe on that ſubject. To this we owe the work entitled Alexander's Rhetoric; in the beginning of which, Ariſtotle proves to him the vaſt advantages a prince may reap from eloquence; as it gives him the greateſt aſcendant over the minds of men, which he ought to acquire as well by his wiſdom as authority. Some anſwers and letters of Alexander, which are ſtill extant, ſhew that he poſſeſſed, in its greateſt perfection, that ſtrong, that manly eloquence, which abounds with ſenſe and ideas, and which is ſo entirely free from ſuperfluous expreſſions, that every ſingle word has its meaning; which, properly ſpeak⯑ing, is the eloquence of kings.

[133] His eſteem, or rather his paſſion for Homer, ſhews, not only with what vigour and ſucceſs he applied to polite literature, but the judicious uſe he made of it, and the ſolid advantages he propoſed to himſelf from it. He was not only prompted to peruſe this poet merely out of cu⯑rioſity, or to unbend his mind, or from a great fondneſs for poetry; but his view in ſtudy⯑ing this admirable writer, was to borrow ſuch ſentiments from him, as were worthy a great king and conqueror; courage, intrepidity, mag⯑nanimity, temperance, prudence; the art of commanding well in war and peace. The verſe which pleaſed him moſt in Homer, was that where Agamemnon is repreſented as a good king and a brave warrior.

After this, it is no wonder that Alexander ſhould have ſo high an eſteem for this poet. Thus when, after the battle of Arbela, the Macedonians had found, among the ſpoils of Darius, a gold box (enriched with precious ſtones) in which the excellent perfumes uſed by that prince were put, Alexander, who was quite covered with duſt, and regardleſs of eſ⯑ſences and perfumes, ordered, that this box ſhould be employed to no other uſe than to hold Homer's poems; which he believed the moſt perfect, the moſt preciſe production of the [134] human mind. He admired particularly the Iliad, which he called, The beſt proviſion for a warrior. He always had with him that edition of Homer which Ariſtotle had reviſed and cor⯑rected, and to which the title of The Edition of the Box was given; and he laid it with his ſword every night under his pillow.

Fond, even to exceſs, of every kind of glory, he was diſpleaſed with Ariſtotle his maſter, for having publiſhed, in his abſence, certain meta⯑phyſical pieces, which he himſelf deſired to poſſeſs only; and even at the time when he was employed in the conqueſt of Aſia, and the pur⯑ſuit of Darius, he wrote to him a letter, which is ſtill extant, wherein he complains upon that very account. Alexander ſays in it, That he had much rather ſurpſs the reſt of men in the knowledge of ſublime and excellent things, than in the greatneſs and extent of his powers. He in like manner requeſted Ariſtotle not to ſhew the treatiſe of rhetoric above mentioned to any perſon but himſelf.

He had alſo a taſte for the whole circle of arts, but in ſuch a manner as became a prince; that is, he knew the value and uſefulneſs of them. Muſic, painting, ſculpture, architecture, flouriſhed in his reign; becauſe they found him both a ſkilful judge and a generous protector; [135] who was able to diſtinguiſh and to reward merit.

But he deſpiſed certain trifling feats of dex⯑terity, that were of no uſe. Some Macedo⯑nians admired very much a man, who em⯑ployed himſelf very attentively in throwing ſmall peas through the eye of a needle; which he would do at a conſiderable diſtance, and with⯑out once miſſing. Alexander ſeeing him at this exerciſe, ordered him, as we are told, a preſent ſuitable to his employment; viz, a baſket of peas.

Alexander was of a ſprightly diſpoſition, was reſolute, and very tenacious of his opinion, which never gave way to force, but at the ſame time would ſubmit immediately to reaſon and good ſenſe. It is very difficult to treat with perſons of this turn of mind: Philip accordingly, notwithſtanding his double authority of king and father, believed it neceſſary to employ per⯑ſuaſion rather than force with reſpect to his ſon, and endeavoured to make himſelf beloved rather than feared by him.

An accident made him entertain a very ad⯑vantageous opinion of Alexander. There had been ſent from Theſſaly to Philip a war-horſe; a noble, ſtrong, fiery, generous beaſt, called [136] Bucephalus. The owner would not ſell him under thirteen talents; an immenſe ſum! The king went into the plains, attended by his courtiers, in order to view the perfections of this horſe; but, upon trial, he appeared ſo very fierce, and pranced about in ſo furious a manner, that no one dared to mount him. Philip being angry that ſo furious and unmanageable a creature had been ſent him, gave orders for their carrying him back again. Alexander, who was preſent at that time, cried out, ‘"What a noble horſe we are going to loſe, for want of addreſs and boldneſs to back him!"’ Philip at firſt conſidered theſe words as the effect of folly and raſhneſs, ſo common to young men; but as Alexander in⯑ſiſted ſtill more upon what he had ſaid, and was very much vexed to ſee ſo noble a creature juſt going to be ſent home again, his father gave him leave to try what he could do. The young prince overjoyed at this permiſſion, goes up to Bucephalus, takes hold of the bridle, and turns his head to the ſun, having obſerved, that the thing which frighted him, was his own ſhadow; Alexander therefore firſt ſtroked him gently with his hand, and ſoothed him with his voice; then ſeeing his fierceneſs abate, and artfully [137] taking this opportunity, he let fall his cloak, and ſpringing ſwiftly upon his back, firſt ſlackened the rein, without once ſtriking or vexing him; and when he perceived that his fire was cooled, that he was no longer ſo furious and violent, and wanted only to move forward, he gave him the rein, and ſpurring him with great vigour, animated him with his voice to his full ſpeed. While this was doing, Philip and his whole court trembled for fear, and did not once open their lips; but when the prince, after having run his firſt heat, returned with joy and pride, at his having broke a horſe which was judged abſolutely ungovernable, all the courtiers in general endeavoured to outvie one another in their applauſes and congratulations; and we are told, Philip ſhed tears of joy on this occaſion; and embracing Alexander, after he was alighted, and kiſſing him, he ſaid to him, ‘"My ſon, ſeek a kingdom more worthy of thee, for Macedon is below thy merit."’

Alexander upon his acceſſion to the throne, ſaw himſelf ſurrounded with extreme dan⯑gers; the barbarous nations with whom Philip contended during his whole reign, thought this change for their advantage, and deſpiſing the youth and inexperience of the young mo⯑narch, [138] reſolved to ſeize this opportunity of regaining their freedom, for ſatiating them⯑ſelves with plunder: nor had he leſs to fear from the Greeks themſelves, who now thought this a convenient opportunity to reſtore their ancient form of government, revenge their for⯑mer injuries, and reclaim thoſe rights which they had enjoyed for ages.

Alexander however reſolved to prevent their machinations, and to give them no time to com⯑plete their confederacies againſt him. After taking revenge upon the conſpirators againſt his father, whom he ſlew upon his tomb, he firſt conciliated the affections of the Macedonians to him, by freeing them from a vexatious and bodily ſlavery, only commanding their ſervice in his wars.

The Macedonians reflecting on his precarious ſituation, adviſed him to relinquiſh Greece, and not perſiſt in his reſolution of ſubduing it by force; to recover by gentle methods the bar⯑barians who had taken arms; and to ſoothe, as it were, thoſe glimmerings of revolt and inno⯑vation, by prudent reſerve, complacency and in⯑ſinuations, in order to conciliate their affections. However, Alexander would not liſten to theſe timorous counſels, but reſolved to ſecure and ſupport his affairs, by boldneſs and magnani⯑mity; [139] firmly perſuaded, that ſhould he relax in any point at firſt, all his neighbours would fall upon him; and that were he to endeavour to compromiſe matters, he ſhould be obliged to give up all Philip's conqueſts, and by that means confine his dominions to the narrow li⯑mits of Macedon. He therefore made all poſ⯑ſible haſte to check the arms of the barbarians, by marching his troops to the banks of the Danube, which he croſſed in one night. He defeated the king of the Triballi in a great battle; made the Getae fly at his approach; ſubdued ſeveral barbarous nations, ſome by the terror of his name, and others by force of arms; and notwithſtanding the arrogant anſwers of their ambaſſadors, he taught them to dread a danger, which they found but too well prepared to overwhelm them.

Whilſt Alexander was thus employed at a diſtance againſt the barbarians, all the cities of Greece, who were animated more particularly by Demoſthenes, formed a powerful alliance againſt him. A falſe report which prevailed of his death, inſpired the Thebans with a boldneſs that proved their ruin. They cut to pieces part of the Macedonian garriſon in their citadel. Demoſthenes, on the other ſide, was every day haranguing the people; and fired [140] with contempt for Alexander, whom he called a child and a hair-brained boy, he aſſured the Athenians, with a deciſive tone of voice, that they had nothing to fear from the new king of Macedon, who did not dare to ſtir out of his kingdom, but would think himſelf vaſtly happy could he ſit peaceably on his throne. At the ſame time he wrote letters upon letters to Attalus, one of Philip's lieutenants in Aſia Minor, to excite him to rebel. This Attalus was uncle to Cleopatra, Philip's ſecond wife, and was very much diſpoſed to liſten to De⯑moſthenes's propoſals. Nevertheleſs, as Alex⯑ander was grown very diſfident of him, for which he knew there was but too much reaſon, he therefore, to eradicate from his mind all the ſuſpicions he might entertain, and the better to ſcreen his deſigns, ſent all Demoſthenes's letters to that prince: but Alexander ſaw through all his artiſices, and thereupon ordered Hecataeus, one of his commanders, whom he had ſent into Aſia for that purpoſe, to have him aſſaſſinated, which was executed accordingly. Attalus's death reſtored tranquillity to the army, and entirely deſtroyed the ſeeds of diſcord and re⯑bellion.

The object which ſeized Alexander's earlieſt ambition, was the conqueſt of Perſia; and he [141] now expected that he would have leiſure and opportunity to prepare for ſo great an enter⯑prize: but he was ſoon called to a new under⯑taking; the Athenians, Thebans and Lacede⯑monians united againſt him; hoping, by the aſſiſtance of Perſia, to recover their former freedom. In order to perſuade the Greeks to this, Demoſthenes made uſe of a device, which had more cunning in it than wiſdom. He cauſed it to be reported that Alexander was ſlain in a battle againſt the Triballi; and he produced a man to the aſſembly, who ventured to affirm, that he was preſent, and wounded, when his general was ſlain. Theſe falſe reports, which ſerve for a day, are but bad policy; like a falſe alarm in battle, the people may ſometimes be mocked by them; but in the end, the ſucceſs will prove as ridiculous as the invention; for as thoſe that find themſelves at one time abuſed by ſuch, at other times neglect the real call of truth, by being ſummoned without occaſion, they fatally deſpiſe the hour of danger. This unfortunate obſtacle obliged Alexander to turn his ſword from the Perſians againſt the Greeks, of whoſe aſſiſtance he had but juſt before aſſured himſelf.

Expedition and activity were the character⯑iſtics of this monarch's conduct; he led his [142] army againſt the Greeks with ſo much celerity, that his appearance before them gave the firſt news of his preparation. He appeared ſo ſud⯑denly in Boeotia, that the Thebans could ſcarce believe their eyes; and being come before their walls, was willing to give them time to repent; and only demanded to have Phoenix and Pro⯑thules, the two chief ringleaders of the revolt, delivered up to him; and publiſhed, by ſound of trumpet, a general pardon to all who ſhould come over to him. But the Thebans, by way of inſult, demanded to have Philotas and An⯑tipater delivered to them; and invited, by a de⯑claration, all who were ſolicitous for the liberty of Greece, to join with them in its defence.

Alexander finding it impoſſible for him to get the better of their obſtinacy by offers of peace, ſaw with grief that he ſhould be forced to em⯑ploy his power, and decide the affair by force of arms. A great battle was thereupon fought, in which the Thebans exerted themſelves with a bravery and ardour much beyond their ſtrength, for the enemy exceeded them vaſtly in numbers. But after a long and vigorous reſiſtance, ſuch as ſurvived of the Macedonian garriſon in the citadel, coming down from it, and charging the Thebans in the rear; being ſurrounded on all ſides, the greateſt part of them were cut to pieces, and the city taken and plundered.

[143] It would be impoſſible for words to expreſs the dreadful calamities which the Thebans ſuf⯑fered on this occaſion. Some Thracians having pulled down the houſe of a virtuous lady of quality, Timoclea by name, carried off all her goods and treaſures; and their captain having ſeized the lady, and ſatiated his brutal luſt with her, afterwards enquired whether ſhe had not concealed gold and ſilver. Timoclea, animated by an ardent deſire of revenge, replying, That ſhe had hid ſome, took him with herſelf only into her garden, and ſhewing him a well, told him, That the inſtant ſhe ſaw the enemy enter the city, ſhe herſelf had thrown into it the moſt precious things in her poſſeſſion. The officer, overjoyed at what he heard, drew near the well, and ſtoop⯑ing down to ſee its depth, Timoclea, who was behind, puſhing him with all her ſtrength, threw him in, and afterwards killed him with great ſtones, which ſhe heaped upon him. She was inſtantly ſeized by the Thracians, and being bound in chains, was carried before Alex⯑ander. The prince perceived immediately by her mien, that ſhe was a woman of quality, and great ſpirit; for ſhe followed thoſe brutal wretches with a very haughty air, and without diſcovering the leaſt fear. Alexander aſking her who ſhe was, Timoclea replied, ‘"I am ſiſter [144] to Theagenes, who fought againſt Philip for the liberty of Greece, and was killed in the battle of Chaeronea, where he commanded."’ The prince, admiring her generous anſwer, and ſtill more the action that ſhe had done, gave orders that ſhe ſhould have leave to retire wherever ſhe pleaſed with her children.

Alexander then debated in council how to act with regard to Thebes. The Phocians, and the people of Plataea, Theſpiae, and Orchomenus, who were all in alliance with Alexander, and had ſhared in his victory, repreſented to him the cruel treatment they had met with from the Thebans, who alſo had deſtroyed their ſe⯑veral cities, and reproached them with the zeal which they had always diſcovered in favour of the Perſians againſt the Greeks, who held them in the utmoſt deteſtation; the proof of which was, the oath they had all taken to deſtroy Thebes, after they ſhould have vanquiſhed the Perſians.

Cleades, one of the priſoners, being permitted to ſpeak, endeavoured to excuſe in ſome mea⯑ſure the revolt of the Thebans; a fault which in his opinion ſhould be imputed to a raſh and credulous imprudence, rather than to depravity of will and declared perfidy. He remonſtrated, that his countrymen, upon a falſe report of [145] Alexander's death, had indeed too raſhly broke into rebellion, not againſt the king, but againſt his ſucceſſors; that what crimes ſoever they might have committed, they had been pu⯑niſhed for them with the utmoſt ſeverity, by the dreadful calamity which had befallen their city; that there now remained in it none but women, children and old men, from whom they had nothing to fear; and who were ſo much the greater objects of compaſſion, as they had been no ways concerned in the revolt. He concluded with reminding Alex⯑ander, that Thebes, which had given birth to ſo many gods and heroes, ſeveral of whom were that king's anceſtors, had alſo been the ſeat of his father Philip's riſing glory, and like a ſecond native country to him.

Theſe motives which Cleades urged, were very ſtrong and powerful; nevertheleſs, the anger of the conqueror prevailed, and the city was deſtroyed. However, he ſet at liberty the prieſts; all ſuch as had right of hoſpitality with the Macedonians; the deſcendants of Pindar, the famous poet, who had done ſo much honour to Greece; and ſuch as had oppoſed the revolt. But all the reſt, in number about thirty thouſand, he ſold; and upwards of ſix thouſand had been killed in battle. The Athe⯑nians [146] were ſo ſenſibly afflicted at the ſad diſ⯑aſter which had befallen Thebes, that being about to ſolemnize the feſtival of the great myſteries, they ſuſpended them upon account of their extreme grief; and received, with the greateſt humanity, all thoſe who had fled from the battle, and the plunder of Thebes, and made Athens their aſylum.

Alexander's ſo ſudden arrival in Greece, had very much abated the haughtineſs of the Athe⯑nians, and extinguiſhed Demoſthenes's vehe⯑mence and fire; but the ruin of Thebes, which was ſtill more ſudden, threw them into the ut⯑moſt conſternation. They therefore had recourſe to intreaties, and ſent a deputation to Alexander to implore his clemency; Demoſthenes was among them; but he was no ſooner arrived at Mount Cytheron, than dreading the anger of that prince, he quitted the embaſſy, and re⯑turned home.

Immediately Alexander ſent to Athens, re⯑quiring the citizens to deliver up to him ten orators, whom he ſuppoſed to have been the chief inſtruments in forming the league which Philip his father had defeated at Chaeronea. It was on this occaſion that Demoſthenes related to the people the fable of the wolves and dogs; in which it is ſuppoſed, That the wolves one day [147] told the ſheep, that in caſe they deſired to be at peace with them, they muſt deliver up to them the dogs who were their guard. The application was eaſy and natural; eſpecially with reſpect to the orators, who were juſtly compared to dogs, whoſe duty it was to watch, to bark, and to fight, in order to ſave the lives of the flock.

In this afflicting dilemma of the Athenians, who could not prevvail with themſelves to de⯑liver up their orators to certain death, though they had no other way to ſave their city, De⯑mades, whom Alexander had honoured with his friendſhip, offered to undertake the embaſſy alone, and intercede for them. The king, whether he had ſatiated his revenge, or en⯑deavoured to blot out, if poſſible, by ſome act of clemency, the barbarous action he had juſt before committed; or rather to remove the ſe⯑veral obſtacles which might retard the execu⯑tion of his grand deſign, and by that means not leave, during his abſence, the leaſt pre⯑tence for murmurs, waved his demand with regard to the delivery of the orators, and was pacified by their ſending Caridemus into ba⯑niſhment; who being a native of Oraea, had been preſented by the Athenians with his freedom, for the ſervices he had done the [148] republic. He was ſon-in-law to Cherſobleptus, king of Thrace; had learned the art of war under Iphicrates; and had himſelf frequently commanded the Athenian armies. To avoid the purſuit of Alexander, he took refuge with the king of Perſia.

As for the Athenians, he not only forgave them the ſeveral injuries he pretended to have received, but expreſſed a particular regard for them, exhorting them to apply themſelves vigorouſly to public affairs, and to keep a watchful eye over the ſeveral tranſactions which might happen; becauſe, in caſe of his death, their city was to give laws to the reſt of Greece. Hiſtorians relate, that many years after this expedition, he was ſeized with deep remorſe for the calamity he had brought upon the Thebans; and that this made him behave with much greater humanity towards many other nations.

So dreadful an example of ſeverity towards ſo powerful a city as Thebes, ſpread the terror of his arms through all Greece, and made all things give way before him. He ſummoned at Corinth, the aſſembly of the ſeveral ſtates and free cities of Greece, to obtain from them the ſame ſupreme command againſt the Per⯑ſians, [149] which had been granted his father a little before his death. No aſſembly ever debated upon a more important ſubject. It was the weſtern world deliberating upon the ruin of the eaſt; and the methods for executing a re⯑venge which had been ſuſpended more than an age. The aſſembly held at this time, gave riſe to events, the relation of which appear aſtoniſh⯑ing, and almoſt incredible; and to revolutions which contributed to change the diſpoſition of moſt things in the political world.

To form ſuch a deſign, required a prince bold, enterpriſing, and experienced in war; one of great views, who, having acquired a great name by his exploits, was not to be intimidated by dangers, nor checked by ob⯑ſtacles; but, above all, a monarch, who had a ſupreme authority over all the ſtates of Greece, none of which, ſingly, was powerful enough to make ſo arduous an attempt; and which required, in order for their acting in concert, to be ſubject to one chief, who might give motion to the ſeveral parts of that great body, by making them all concur to the ſame end. Such a prince was Alexander: it was not difficult for him to rekindle in the minds of the people their ancient hatred of the Perſians. [150] their perpetual and irreconcileable enemies; whoſe deſtruction they had more than once ſwore, and whom they had determined to ex⯑tirpate, in caſe an opportunity ſhould preſent itſelf for that purpoſe; a hatred which the in⯑teſtine feuds of the Greeks might indeed have ſuſpended, but could never extinguiſh. The im⯑mortal retreat of the ten thouſand Greeks, notwithſtanding the vigorous oppoſition of the prodigious army of the Perſians, ſhewed plainly what might be expected from an army com⯑poſed of the flower of the forces of all the cities of Greece, and thoſe of Macedon, commanded by generals and officers formed under Philip; and to ſay all in a word, led by Alexander. The deliberations of the aſſembly were therefore very ſhort; and that prince was unanimouſly appointed generaliſſimo againſt the Perſians.

Immediately a great number of officers, and governors of cities, with many philoſophers, waited upon Alexander, to congratulate him upon his election. He flattered himſelf, that Diogenes of Synope, who was then at Corinth, would alſo come like the reſt, and pay his com⯑pliments. This philoſopher, who entertained a very mean idea of grandeur, thought it improper to congratulate men juſt upon their exaltation; [151] but that mankind ought to wait till thoſe per⯑ſons ſhould perform actions worthy of their high ſtations. Diogenes therefore ſtill con⯑tinued at home; upon which Alexander, at⯑tended by all his courtiers, made him a viſit. The philoſopher was at that time lying down in the ſun; but ſeeing ſo great a crowd of people advancing towards him, he ſat up, and fixed his eyes on Alexander. This prince, ſurprized to be⯑hold ſo famous a philoſopher reduced to ſuch ex⯑treme poverty, after ſaluting him in the kindeſt manner, aſked, Whether he wanted any thing? Diogenes replied, ‘"Yes, that you would ſtand a little out of my ſun-ſhine."’ This anſwer raiſed the contempt and indignation of all the courtiers; but the monarch, ſtruck with the philoſopher's greatneſs of ſoul, ‘"Were I not Alexander," ſays he, "I would be Diogenes."’ In a word, all or nothing preſents us with the true image of Alexander and Diogenes. How great and powerful ſoever that prince might think him⯑ſelf, he could not deny himſelf, on this occaſion, inferior to a man to whom he could give, and from whom he could take nothing.

Alexander, before he ſet out for Aſia, was de⯑termined to conſult the oracle of Apollo. He therefore went to Delphos, where he happened [152] to arrive in thoſe days which are called unlucky; a ſeaſon in which people were forbid conſulting the oracle: and accordingly the prieſteſs refuſed to go to the temple. But Alexander, who could not bear any contradiction to his will, took her forcibly by the arm, and as he was leading her to the temple, ſhe cried out, ‘"My ſon, thou art irreſiſtible."’ This was all he deſired; and catching hold of theſe words, which he con⯑ſidered as ſpoke by the oracle, he ſet out for Macedonia, in order to make preparations for his great expedition.

Alexander being arrived in his kingdom, held a council with the chief officers of his army, and the nobles of his court, on the expedition he meditated againſt Perſia, and the meaſures he ſhould take in order to ſucceed in it. The whole aſſembly were unanimous, except in one article. Antipater and Parmenio were of opi⯑nion, that the king, before he engaged in an enterprize which would neceſſarily be a long one, ought to make choice of a conſort, in order to ſecure himſelf a ſucceſſor to his throne. But Alexander, who was of a violent fiery tem⯑per, did not approve of this advice; and believ⯑ed that after he had been nominated generaliſ⯑ſimo of the Greeks, and that his father had left [153] him an invincible army, it would be a ſhame for him to loſe his time in ſolemnizing his nup⯑tials, and waiting for the fruits of it; for which reaſon he determined to ſet out immediately.

Accordingly he offered up very ſplendid ſa⯑crifices to the gods, and cauſed to be celebrated at Dia, a city of Macedon, ſcenical games that had been inſtituted by one of his anceſtors in honour of Jupiter and the Muſes. This feſtival continued nine days, agreeable to the number of thoſe goddeſſes. He had a tent raiſed large enough to hold an hundred tables, on which conſequently nine hundred covers might be laid. To this feaſt, the ſeveral princes of his family, all the ambaſſadors, ge⯑nerals and officers were invited.

Before he ſet out upon his great expedition, he ſettled the affairs of Macedon, over which he appointed Antipater as viceroy, with twelve thouſand foot, and near the ſame number of horſe. He alſo enquired into the domeſtic affairs of his friends, giving to one an eſtate in land, to another a village, to a third the revenues of a town, to a fourth the toll of an harbour. As all the revenues of his demeſnes were already employed, and exhauſted by his donations, Perdicas ſaid to him, ‘"My lord, what is it [154] you reſerve for yourſelf?"’ Alexander replied, Hope: upon which Perdicas ſaid, ‘"the ſame hope ought therefore to ſatisfy us;"’ and ſo refuſed very generouſly to accept of what the king had appointed him.

After having completely ſettled his affairs in Macedonia, and uſed all the precautions imaginable to prevent any troubles from ariſing in it during his abſence, he ſet out for Aſia in the beginning of the Spring. His army con⯑ſiſted of little more than thirty thouſand foot, and four or five thouſand horſe; but then they were all brave men, well diſciplined, and enu⯑red to fatigues. They had made ſeveral cam⯑paigns under Philip, and were each of them in caſe of neceſſity capable of commanding: moſt of the officers were near threeſcore years of age, and the common men fifty; and when they were either aſſembled, or drawn up at the head of a camp, they had the air of a venerable ſenate. Parmenio commanded the infantry, Philotas his ſon, had eighteen hundred horſe under him; and Callas, the ſon of Harpalus, the ſame number of Theſſalian cavalry. The reſt of the horſe were compoſed of natives of the ſeveral ſtates of Greece, and amounted to ſix hundred, had their particular commander. The [155] Thracians and Poeonians, who were always in front, were headed by Caſſander. Alexander began his march along the lake Cercinum, to⯑wards Amphipolis; croſſed the river Strymon, near its mouth; afterwards the Hebrus, and arrived at Seſtos after twenty days march. He then commanded Parmenio to croſs over from Seſtos to Abydos, with all the horſe, and part of the foot; which he accordingly did with the aſſiſtance of an hundred and threeſcore gallies, and ſeveral flat-bottomed veſſels; while he himſelf croſſed over the Helleſpont, ſteering his gally with his own hands: and when he ar⯑rived near the ſhore, as if to take poſſeſſion of the continent, he leaped from his ſhip in com⯑plete armour, and teſtified many tranſports of joy.

This confidence ſoon began to diffuſe itſelf over all the reſt of his army; it inſpired his ſoldiers with ſo much courage and ſecurity, that they fancied themſelves marching not to a precarious war, but a certain victory.

Being arrived at the city of Lampſacus, which he was determined to deſtroy, in order to puniſh the rebellion of its inhabitants, Anaxi⯑menes, a native of that place, came to him. This man, who was a famous hiſtorian, had been very intimate with Philip his father; and Alex⯑ander [156] himſelf had a great eſteem for him, having been his pupil. The king ſuſpecting the buſi⯑neſs he came upon, to be before-hand with him, ſwore, in expreſs terms, that he would never grant his requeſt. The favour I have to deſire of you, ſays Anaximenes, is, that you would deſtroy Lampſacus. By this witty evaſion, the hiſtorian ſaved his country.

From thence Alexander went to Troy, where he paid great honours to the ſhade of Achilles, and cauſed games to be celebrated round his tomb. He admired and envied the felicity of that Grecian hero, in having found during life a faithful friend in Patroclus; and after death a noble panegyriſt in Homer.

When the news of Alexander's landing in Aſia was brought to Darius, he teſtified the utmoſt contempt for the Macedonian army, and indignation at the preſumption of their generals. In a letter which he wrote, he repre⯑hended his audacious inſolence, and gave or⯑ders to his various governors, in the different parts of his dominions, that if they took Alex⯑ander alive, to whip him with rods, make pri⯑ſoners of his whole army, and ſend them as ſlaves to one of the moſt deſerted parts of his dominions. Thus confiding in the glittering [...] [157] but barbarous multitude which he commanded, he diſpoſed of the enemy as already vanquiſh⯑ed: but confidence goes but a ſhort part of the road to ſucceſs. The great numbers which he had gathered, only brought unwiedly ſplendor into the field, and inſtead of procuring him ſe⯑curity, increaſed his embarraſſments.

Alexander, being at length arrived on the banks of the Grannicus, a river of Phrygia, there firſt found the Perſians diſpoſed to diſpute his paſſage. The Perſian ſatrap taking poſſeſſion of the higher banks, at the head of an army of one hundred thouſand foot, and upwards of ten thouſand horſe, ſeemed to promiſe themſelves victory. Memnon, who was a Rhodian, and commanded under Darius all the coaſt of Aſia, had adviſed the generals not to venture a battle, but to lay waſte the plains, and even the cities, thereby to ſtarve Alexander's army, and oblige him to return back into Europe. Memnon was the beſt of all Darius's generals, and had been the principal agent in his victories. It is not eaſily to determine what we ought to ad⯑mire moſt in him; whether his great wiſdom in council, his courage and capacity in the field, or his zeal and attachment to his ſovereign. The council he gave on this occaſion was ex⯑cellent, [158] when we conſider that his enemy was fiery and impetuous; had neither town, maga⯑zine, or place of retreat; that he was entering a country to which he was abſolutely a ſtranger, and inhabited by enemies; that delays alone would weaken and ruin him; and that his only hopes lay in giving battle immediately. But Arfites a Phrygian ſatrap oppoſed the opinion of Memnon, and proteſted he would never ſuffer the Grecians to make ſuch havock in the territories he governed. This ill council pre⯑vailed over that of the Rhodian, whom the Perſians to their great prejudice ſuſpected of a deſign to protract the war, and by that means of making himſelf neceſſary to Darius.

Alexander in the mean time marched on at the head of his heavy armed infantry, drawn up in two lines, with the cavalry in the wings, and the baggage following in the rear. Being ar⯑rived upon the banks of the Grannicus, Par⯑menio adviſed him to encamp there in battle array, in order that his forces might have time to reſt themſelves, and not to paſs the river till very early next morning, becauſe the enemy would then be leſs able to prevent him: He added, that it would be too dangerous to at⯑tempt croſſing a river in ſight of an enemy, eſ⯑pecially [159] as that before them was deep, and its banks very craggy; ſo that the Perſian cavalry, who waited their coming in battle array, on the other ſide, might eaſily defeat them before they were drawn up: That beſides the loſs which would be ſuſtained on this occaſion, this enterprize, in caſe it ſhould prove unſucceſsful, would be of dangerous conſequence to their future affairs; the fame and glory of arms de⯑pending on the firſt actions.

However theſe reaſons were not able to make the leaſt impreſſion on Alexander, who declar⯑ed that it would be a ſhame ſhould he, after croſſing the Helleſpont, ſuffer his progreſs to be retarded by a rivulet; for ſo he called the Grannicus out of contempt; that they ought to take advantage of the terror which the ſuddenneſs of his arrival, and the boldneſs of his attempt, had ſpread amongſt the Perſians; and anſwer the high opinion the world conceived of his courage, and the valour of the Macedo⯑nians. The enemy's horſe which was very nu⯑merous, lined the whole ſhore, and formed a large front, in order to oppoſe Alexander where⯑ever he ſhould endeavour to paſs; and the foot, which conſiſted chiefly of Greeks in Da⯑rius's ſervice, was poſted behind upon an eaſy aſcent.

[160] The two armies continued a long time in ſight of each other, on the banks of the river, as if dreading the event. The Perſians waited till the Macedonians ſhould enter the river, in order to charge them to advantage upon their landing, and the latter ſeemed to be making choice of a place proper for croſſing, and to ſur⯑vey the countenance of their enemies. Upon this, Alexander ordered his horſe to be brought, commanded the noblemen of the court to follow him, and behave gallantly. He himſelf com⯑manded the right wing, and Parmenio the left. The king firſt cauſed a ſtrong detachment to march into the river, himſelf following it with the reſt of the forces. He made Parmenio ad⯑vance afterwards with the left wing: he him⯑ſelf led on the right wing into the river, fol⯑lowed by the reſt of the troops; the trumpets ſounding, and the whole army raiſing cries of joy.

The Perſians ſeeing this detachment advance forward, began to let fly their arrows, and march to a place where the declivity was not ſo great, in order to keep the Macedonians from landing. But now the horſe engaged with great fury, one part endeavouring to land, and the other ſtriving to prevent them. The Mace⯑donians, whoſe cavalry was vaſtly inferior in [161] number, beſides the advantage of the ground, were wounded with the darts, that were ſhot from the eminence; not to mention that the flower of the Perſian horſe were drawn toge⯑ther in this place, and that Memnon in con⯑cert with his ſons, commanded there. The Macedonians therefore at firſt gave ground, after having loſt the firſt ranks which made a vigorous defence. Alexander, who had follow⯑ed them cloſe, and reinforced them with his beſt troops, headed them himſelf, animated them by his preſence, puſhed the Perſians, and routed them; upon which the whole army fol⯑lowed after, croſs'd the river, and attacked the enemy on all ſides.

Alexander firſt charged the thickeſt part of the enemy's horſe, in which the generals fought. He himſelf was particularly conſpicuous by his ſhield, and the plume of feathers that over-ſhadowed his helmet, on the two ſides of which, there roſe two wings, as it were, of a great length, and ſo vaſtly white, that they dazzled the eyes of the beholder. The charge was very furious about his perſon, and though only the horſe engaged, they fought like foot, man to man, without giving way on either ſide; every one ſtriving to repulſe his adverſary, and gain ground of him. Spithrobates, lieutenant-governor [162] of Ionia, and ſon-in-law to Darius, diſtinguiſhed himſelf above the reſt of the gene⯑rals by his ſuperior bravery. Being ſurrounded by forty Perſian lords, all of them his relations of experienced valour, and who never moved from his ſide, he carried terror where-ever he went. Alexander obſerving in how gallant a manner he ſignalized himſelf, clapt ſpurs to his horſe, and advanced towards him. Immedi⯑ately they engaged, and each having thrown a javelin, wounded the other ſlightly. Spithro⯑bates falls furiouſly ſword in hand upon Alex⯑ander, who being prepared for him, thruſts his pike into his face, and laid him dead at his feet. At that very moment, Raſaces, brother to that nobleman, charging him on the ſide, gave him ſo furious a blow on the head with his battle-axe that he beat off his plume, but went no deeper than the hair. As he was going to repeat his blow on the head, which now appear⯑ed through his fractured helmet, Clitus cut off Raſaces's hand with one ſtroke of his ſcimetar, and by that means ſaved his ſovereign's life. The danger to which Alexander had been ex⯑poſed, greatly animated the courage of his ſoldiers, who now performed wonders. The Perſians in the center of the horſe, upon whom the light-armed troops, who had been poſted [163] in the intervals of the horſe, poured a perpe⯑tual diſcharge of darts, being unable to ſuſtain any longer the attack of the Macedonians, who ſtruck them all in the face, the two wings were immediately broke, and put to flight. Alex⯑ander did not purſue them long, but turned about immediately to charge the foot.

Theſe at firſt ſtood their ground, but when they ſaw themſelves attacked at the ſame time by the cavalry, and the Macedonian phalanx which had croſſed the river, and that the bat⯑talions were now engaged, thoſe of the Perſians did not make either a long or a vigorous reſiſt⯑ance, and were ſoon put to flight; the Grecian infantry in Darius's ſervice excepted. This body of foot retiring to a hill, demanded a pro⯑miſe from Alexander to let them march away unmoleſted; but following the dictates of his wrath, rather than thoſe of reaſon, he ruſhed into the midſt of this body of foot, and pre⯑ſently loſt his horſe, (not Bucephalus) who was killed with the thruſt of a ſword. The battle was ſo hot round him, that moſt of the Mace⯑donians, who loſt their lives on this occaſion, fell here; for they fought againſt a body of men, who were well diſciplined, had been inured to war, and fought in deſpair. They [164] were all cut to pieces, two thouſand excepted, who were taken priſoners.

A great number of the Perſian commanders lay dead on the ſpot. Ariſtes fled into Phrygia, where it is ſaid he laid violent hands on him⯑ſelf, for having been the cauſe that the battle was fought. Twenty thouſand foot, and two thouſand five hundred horſe, were killed in this engagement, on the ſide of the barbarians; and of the Macedonians, twenty-five of the royal horſe were killed at the firſt attack. Alexander ordered Lyſippus to make their ſta⯑tues in braſs, all of which were ſet up in a city of Macedon, called Dia, from whence they were many years after carried to Rome, by Metellus. About threeſcore of the other horſe were killed, and near thirty foot, who, the next day, were all laid with their arms and equipage in one grave; and the king granted an exemption to their fathers and children, from every kind of tribute and ſervice.

He alſo took the utmoſt care of the wounded, viſited them, and ſaw their wounds dreſſed. He enquired very particularly into their adven⯑tures, and permitted every one of them to re⯑late his actions in the battle, and boaſt his bra⯑very. He alſo granted the rites of ſepulture to [165] the principal Perſians, and did not even refuſe it to ſuch Greeks as died in the Perſian ſervice; but all thoſe whom he took priſoners, he laid in chains, and ſent to work as ſlaves in Macedonia, for having fought under the barbarian ſtandard againſt their country, contrary to the expreſs prohibition made by Greece upon that head.

Alexander made it his duty and pleaſure to ſhare the honour of his victory with the Greeks; and ſent particularly to the Athenians, three hundred ſhields, being part of the plunder taken from the enemy, and cauſed the glorious in⯑ſcription following to be inſcribed on the reſt of the ſpoils: ‘"Alexander ſon of Philip, with the Greeks, (the Lacedemonians excepted), gain⯑ed theſe ſpoils from the barbarians, who inhabit Aſia."’ The greateſt part of the gold and ſilver plate, the purple carpets, and other furniture of the Perſian luxury, he ſent to his mother.

This victory not only impreſſed the Perſians with conſternation, but ſerved to excite the ardour of the invading army. The Perſians perceiving that the Greeks were not able to overcome them, though poſſeſſed of manifeſt ad⯑vantages, ſuppoſed that they never could be able to face them upon equal terms; and thus, from the firſt miſchance, they gave up all hopes [166] of ſucceeding by valour. Indeed, in all inva⯑ſions where the nations invaded have been once beaten, with great advantages of place on their ſide, ſuch as defenſive rivers, ſtraits, and mountains; they ſoon begin to perſuade them⯑ſelves, that upon equal terms, ſuch an enemy muſt be irreſiſtible. It is the opinion of Ma⯑chiavel, that he who reſolves to defend a paſſage, ſhould do it with his ableſt forces; for few regions of any circuit are ſo well defended by nature, that armies of ſuch force as may be thought ſufficient to conquer them, cannot break through the natural difficulties of the en⯑trance; one paſſage or other is commonly left unguarded; and ſome place weakly defended, will be the cauſe of a fatal triumph to the in⯑vaders. How often have the Alps given way to armies breaking into Italy? and tho' they pro⯑duced dreadful difficulties and dangers among thoſe that ſcaled them, yet they were never found to give ſecurity to thoſe that lay behind. It was therefore wiſely done of Alexander to paſs the river in the face of the enemy, with⯑out marching higher to ſeek an eaſier paſſage, or labouring to convey his men over it by ſome ſaſer method. Having beaten the enemy upon their own terms, he no leſs deſtroyed their re⯑putation than their ſtrength, leaving the wretch⯑ed [167] ſubjects of ſuch a ſtate, no hopes of ſuccour from ſuch unable protectors.

Soon after the battle of Grannicus, he recover⯑ed Sardis from the enemy, which was in a man⯑ner the bulwark of the Barbarian empire on the ſide next the ſea; he took the inhabitants under his protection, received their nobles with the utmoſt condeſcenſion, and permitted them to be governed by their own laws and maxims, obſerving to his friends around him, That ſuch as lay the foundations of a new dominion, ſhould always endeavour to have the fame of being merciful. Four days after, he arrived at Epheſus, carrying with him thoſe who had been baniſhed from thence for being his adhe⯑rents, and reſtored its popular form of govern⯑ment. He aſſigned to the Temple of Diana, the tributes which were paid to the kings of Perſia. Before he left Epheſus, the deputies of the cities of Trallis and Magneſia waited upon him with the keys of thoſe places.

He afterwards marched to Miletus; which city, flattered with the hopes of a ſudden and powerful ſupport, ſhut their gates againſt him; and indeed the Perſian fleet, which was very conſiderable, made a ſhew as if it would ſuccour that city; but after having made ſeveral fruit⯑leſs attempts to engage that of the enemy, it [168] was forced to ſail way. Memnon had ſhut himſelf up in this fortreſs, with a great number of his ſoldiers who had eſcaped from the battle, and was determined to make a good defence. Alexander, who would not loſe a moment's time, attacked it, and planted ſcaling-ladders on all ſides. The ſcalade was carried on with great vigour, and oppoſed with no leſs intrepidity, though Alexander ſent freſh troops to relieve each other without the leaſt intermiſſion; and this laſted ſeveral days. At laſt finding his ſoldiers were every where repulſed, and that the city was provided with every thing for a long ſiege, he planted all his machines againſt it, made a great number of breaches, and whenever theſe were attacked, a new ſcalade was attempted. The beſieged, after ſuſtaining all theſe efforts with prodigious bravery, capitulat⯑ed to prevent being taken by ſtorm. Alexander treated the Mileſians with the utmoſt humanity, but ſold all the foreigners who were found in it.

After poſſeſſing himſelf of Miletus, he marched into Caria, in order to lay ſiege to Hali⯑carnaſſus. This city was of prodigious difficult acceſs from its happy ſituation, and had been ſtrongly fortified. Beſides Memnon, the ableſt as well as the moſt valiant of all Darius's com⯑manders, had got into it with a body of choice [169] ſoldiers, with a deſign to ſignalize his courage and fidelity for his ſovereign. He accordingly made a very noble defence, in which he was ſeconded by Ephialtes, another general of great merit. Whatever could be expected from the moſt intrepid bravery and the moſt conſummate knowledge in the ſcience of war, was conſpicuous on both ſides on this occaſion. Memnon finding it impoſſible for him to hold out any longer, was forced to abandon the city. As the ſea was open to him, after having put a ſtrong garriſon into the citadel, which was well ſtored with proviſions, he took with him the ſurviving inhabitants, with all their riches, and conveyed them into the iſland of Cos, which was not far from Halicarnaſſus. Alexander did not think proper to beſiege the citadel, it being of little importance after the city was deſtroyed, which he demoliſhed to the very foundations. He left it after having encompaſſed it with ſtrong walls, and left ſome good troops in the country.

Soon after this, he reſtored Ada queen of Caria to her kingdom, of which ſhe had been diſpoſſeſſed ſome time before; and as a teſ⯑timony of the deep ſenſe ſhe had of the favours received from Alexander, ſhe ſent him every day meats dreſſed in the moſt exquiſite manner, [170] and the moſt excellent cooks of every kind. Alexander anſwered the queen on this occaſion, That all this train was of no ſervice to him; for that he was poſſeſſed of much better cooks, whom Leonidas his governor had given him, one of whom prepared him a good dinner, and an excellent ſupper, and thoſe were Temperance and Exerciſe.

Several kings of Aſia Minor, ſubmitted vo⯑luntarily to Alexander; Mithridates, king of Pontus, was one of theſe, who afterwards adhered to this prince, and followed him in his expedi⯑tions. He was ſon to Ariobarzanes governor of Phrygia and king of Pontus, of whom mention has been made elſewhere. He is computed to be the ſixteenth king from Artabanus, who is conſidered as the founder of that kingdom, of which he was put in poſſeſſion by Darius, ſon of Hyſtaſpes his father. The famous Mithri⯑dates, who ſo long employed the Roman armies, was one of his ſucceſſors.

The year enſuing, Alexander began the cam⯑paign very early. He had debated whether it would be proper for him to march direct⯑ly againſt Darius, or firſt ſubdue the reſt of the maritime provinces. The latter opinion appeared the ſafeſt, ſince he thereby would not [171] be moleſted by ſuch nations as he ſhould leave behind him. This progreſs was a little inter⯑rupted at firſt. Near Phaſelis, a city ſituated between Lyſia and Pamphilia, is a defile along the ſea ſhore, which is always dry at low water, ſo that travellers may paſs it at that time; but when the ſea riſes, it is all under water. As it was now winter, Alexander, whom nothing could daunt, was deſirous of paſſing it before the waters fell. His forces were therefore ob⯑liged to march a whole day in the water, which came up to their waſte.

Alexander after having ſettled affairs in Cili⯑cia and Pamphilia, marched his army to Coelenae, a city of Phrygia watered by the river Mar⯑ſyas, which the fictions of Poets have made ſo famous. He ſummoned the garriſon of the citadel, whither the inhabitants were retired, to ſurrender; but theſe believing it impregnable, anſwered haughtily, That they would firſt die. However finding the attack carried on with great vigour, they deſired a truce of ſixty days, at the expiration of which, they promiſed to open their gates, in caſe they were not ſuccour⯑ed. And accordingly, no aid arriving, they ſurrendered themſelves upon the day fixed.

From thence he marched into Phrygia, the ancient dominion of the celebrated king Midas; [172] having taken the capital city, he was deſirous of ſeeing the famous chariot to which the Gordian knot was tied. This knot which faſtened the yoke to the beam, was tied with ſo much intricacy, that it was impoſſible to diſcover where the ends begun, or how they were concealed. According to an ancient tradition of the country, an ora⯑cle had foretold that the man who could un⯑tie it, ſhould poſſeſs the empire of Aſia. Alex⯑ander being firmly perſuaded that the oracle was meant for him, after many fruitleſs trials, in⯑ſtead of attempting to untie it in the uſual manner, drew his ſword and cut it in pieces, crying out, That that was the only way to un⯑tie it. The prieſt hailed the omen, and de⯑clared that Alexander had fulfilled the oracle.

Darius, who now began to be more alarmed than before, uſed all the art in his power to raiſe an army, and encourage his forces: he ſent Memnon into Greece to invade Macedon, in order to make a diverſion of the Grecian forces; but this general dying upon that ex⯑pedition, Darius's hopes vaniſhed on that quar⯑ter, and inſtead of invading the enemy, he was obliged to conſult for the protection of his empire at home.

In the mean time, Alexander having leſt Gordion, marched into Paphlogonia and Cap⯑padocia, [173] which he ſubdued. It was there he heard of Memnon's death; the news whereof confirmed him in the reſolution he had taken, of marching immediately into the provinces of Upper Aſia. Accordingly he advanced, by haſty marches, into Cilicia, and arrived in the country called Cyrus's Camp. From thence there is no more than fifty ſtadia (two leagues and a half each) to the paſs of Cilicia, which is a very narrow ſtrait, through which travellers are obliged to go from Cappadocia to Tarſus. The officer who guarded it in Darius's name, had left but few ſoldiers in it; and thoſe fled the inſtant they heard of the enemy's arrival. Upon this, Alexander entered the paſs, and after viewing very attentively the ſituation of the place, admired his own good fortune, and confeſſed, He might have been very eaſily ſtopped and defeated there, merely by the throwing of ſtones; for not to mention that this paſs was ſo narrow, that four men, completely armed, could ſcarcely walk a breaſt in it; the top of the mountain hung over the road, which was not only ſtrait, but broke in ſeveral places, by the fall of torrents from the mountains.

Alexander marched his whole army to the city of Tarſus, where it arrived the inſtant [174] the Perſians were ſetting fire to that place, to prevent his plundering the great riches of ſo flouriſhing a city. But Parmenio, whom the king had ſent thither with a detachment of horſe, arrived very ſeaſonably to ſtop the pro⯑greſs of the fire, and marched into the city, which he ſaved, the barbarians having fled the moment they heard of his arrival.

Through this city the Cydnus runs; a river not ſo remarkable for the breadth of its channel, as for the beauty of its waters, which are vaſtly limpid; but at the ſame time exceſſively cold, becauſe of the tufted trees with which its banks are overſhadowed. It was now about the end of the ſummer, which is exceſſively hot in Ci⯑licia, and in the hotteſt part of the day; when the king, who was quite covered with ſweat and dirt, arriving on its banks, had a mind to bathe, invited by the beauty and clear⯑neſs of the ſtream. However the inſtant he plunged into it, he was ſeized with ſo violent a ſhivering, that all the by-ſtanders fancied he was dying. Upon this, he was carried to his tent, after fainting away. The phyſicians, who were ſenſible they ſhould be anſwerable for the event, did not dare to hazard violent and extraordinary remedies. However, Philip, one of his phyſicians, who had always attend⯑ed [175] upon him from his youth, and loved him with the utmoſt tenderneſs, not only as his ſovereign, but his child, raiſing himſelf (merely out of affection to Alexander) above all prudential conſiderations, offered to give him a doſe, which, though not very violent, would nevertheleſs be ſpeedy in its effects; and deſired three days to prepare it. At this propoſal every one trembled, but he only whom it moſt concerned; Alexander being afflicted upon no other account, than becauſe it would keep him three days from appearing at the head of his army.

Whilſt theſe things were doing, Alexander received a letter from Parmenio, who was left behind in Cappadocia, in whom Alexander put greater confidence than in any other of his courtiers; the purport of which was, to bid him beware of Philip his phyſician, for that Darius had bribed him, by the promiſe of a thouſand talents, and his ſiſter in marriage. This letter gave him great uneaſineſs; for he was now at full leiſure to weigh all the reaſons he might have to hope or fear. But the conſidence in a phyſician whoſe ſincere attachment and fidelity he had proved from his infancy, ſoon pre⯑vailed, and removed all ſuſpicions. He folded up the letter, and put it under his bolſter, [176] without acquainting his attendants with the contents; in the mean time, his phyſician en⯑tered, with a medicine in his hand, and offered the cup to Alexander. The hero upon this, took the cup from him, and holding out the letter, deſired the phyſician to read, while he drank off the draught with an intrepid coun⯑tenance, without the leaſt heſitation, or diſ⯑covering the leaſt ſuſpicion or uneaſineſs. The phyſician, as he peruſed the letter, ſhewed greater ſigns of indignation than of fear; he bid him, with a reſolute tone, harbour no un⯑eaſineſs, and that the recovery of his health would in a ſhort time wipe off all ſuſpicion. In the mean time, the phyſic wrought ſo vio⯑lently, that the ſymptoms ſeemed to ſtrengthen Parmenio's accuſation; but at laſt, the me⯑dicine having gained the aſcendant, he began to aſſume his accuſtomed vigour; and in about three days, he was able to ſhew himſelf to his longing ſoldiers, by whom he was equally beloved and reſpected.

In the mean time Darius was on his march; filled with a vain ſecurity in the ſuperiority of his numbers; and conſident not in the valour, but in the ſplendor of his forces. The plains of Aſſyria, in which he was encamped, gave him an opportunity of extending his horſe as he [177] pleaſed, and of taking the advantage which the great difference between the number of ſoldiers in each army gave him. But inſtead of this, he reſolved to march to narrow paſſes, where his cavalry, and the multitude of his troops, ſo far from doing him any ſervice, would only incumber each other; and accordingly, ad⯑vanced towards the enemy, for whom he ſhould have waited; and thus ran viſibly on his deſtruction.

His courtiers and attendants however, whoſe cuſtom it was to flatter and applaud all his actions, congratulated him upon an approaching victory, as if it had been certain and inevitable. There was at that time, in the army of Darius, one Caridemus, an Athenian, a man of great experience in war, who perſonally hated Alex⯑ander, for having cauſed him to be barliſhed from Athens. Darius turning to this Athenian, aſked whether he believed him powerful enough to defeat his army. Caridemus, who had been brought up in the boſom of liberty, and for⯑getting that he was in a country of ſlavery, where to oppoſe the inclinations of the prince is of the moſt dangerous conſequence, replied as follows: ‘"Permit me, Sir, to ſpeak truth now, when only my ſincerity may be of ſervice; your preſent ſplendor, your prodigious num⯑bers [178] which have drained the eaſt, may be terrible indeed to your effeminate neigh⯑bours, but can be no way dreadful to a Macedonian army. Diſcipline, cloſe combat, courage, is all their care; every ſingle man among them is almoſt himſelf a general. Theſe men are not to be repulſed by the ſtones of ſlingers, or ſtakes burnt at the end; none but troops armed like themſelves can ſtop their career; let therefore the gold and ſilver which glitters in your camp, be ex⯑changed for foldiers and ſteel, for weapons and for hearts that are able to defend you."’ Darius, though naturally of a mild diſpoſition, had all his paſſions rouſed at the freedom of this man's advice; he ordered him at once to be executed; Caridemus all the time crying out, that his avenger was at hand: Darius too ſoon repented his raſhneſs, and experienced when it was too late, the truth of all that had been told him.

The emperor now advanced with his troops towards the river Euphrates; over his tent was exhibited to the view of his whole army, the image of the ſun in jewels; while wealth and magnificence ſhone in every quarter of the army.

Firſt they carried ſilver altars, on which lay fire, called by them Sacred and Eternal; [179] and theſe were followed by the Magi, ſinging hymns, after the manner of their country: they were accompanied by three hundred and ſixty-five youths (equalling the number of days in a year) cloathed in purple robes. After⯑wards came a chariot conſecrated to Jupiter, drawn by white horſes, and followed by a courſer of a prodigious ſize, to whom they gave the name of the Sun's Horſe; and the equeries were dreſſed in white, each having a golden rod in his hand.

Ten chariots, adorned with ſculptures in gold and ſilver followed after. Then marched a body of horſe, compoſed of twelve nations, whoſe manners and cuſtoms were various, and all armed in a different manner. Next advanced thoſe whom the Perſians called The Immortals, amounting to ten thouſand, who ſurpaſſed the reſt of the barbarians in the ſumptuouſneſs of their apparel. They all wore golden collars, were cloathed in robes of gold tiſſue, with veſt⯑ments having ſleeves to them quite covered with precious ſtones.

Thirty paces from them followed thoſe called the king's relations, to the number of fifteen thouſand, in habits very much reſembling thoſe of women; and more remarkable for the vain pomp of their dreſs, than the glitter of their arms.

[180] Thoſe called the Doriphori came after; they carried the king's cloak, and walked before his chariot, in which he ſeemed to ſit, as on a high throne. This chariot was enriched on both ſides with images of the gods, in gold and ſilver; and from the middle of the yoke, which was covered with jewels, roſe two ſtatues, a cubit in height, the one repreſenting War, the other Peace, having a golden eagle between them, with wings extended, as ready to take its flight.

But nothing could equal the magnificence of the king: he was cloathed in a veſt of pur⯑ple, ſtriped with ſilver, and over it a long robe, glittering all over with gold and pre⯑cious ſtones, that repreſented two falcons, ruſhing from the clouds, and pecking at one another. Around his waiſt he wore a golden girdle, after the manner of women, whence his ſcymitar hung, the ſcabbard of which flamed all over with gems; on his head he wore a tiara, or mitre, round which was a fillet of blue mixed with white.

On each ſide of him walked two hundred of his neareſt relations, followed by two thouſand pike-men, whoſe pikes were adorned with ſilver, and tipped with gold; and laſtly, thirty thouſand infantry, who compoſed the rear⯑guard. [181] Theſe were followed by the king's horſes four hundred in number, all which were led.

About one hundred, or an hundred and twenty paces from thence, came Syſigambis, Darius's mother, ſeated on a chariot, and his confort on another; with the ſeveral female attendants of both queens, riding on horſeback. Afterwards came fifteen large chariots, in which were the king's children, and thoſe who had the care of their education, with a band of eunuchs, who are to this day in great eſteem among thoſe nations. Then marched the concubines, to the number of three hundred and ſixty, in the equipage of queens, followed by ſix hundred mules, and three hundred camels, which car⯑ried the king's treaſure, and guarded by a great body of archers.

After theſe came the wives of the crown-officers, and of the greateſt lords of the court; then the ſutlers, and ſervants of the army, ſeated alſo in chariots.

In the rear were a body of light-armed troops, with their commanders, who cloſed the whole march.

Such was the ſplendor of this pageant mo⯑narch; he took the field encumbered with an unneceſſary train of concubines, attended with [182] troops of various nations, ſpeaking different lan⯑guages, for their numbers impoſſible to be mar⯑ſhalled, and ſo rich and effeminate in gold and in garments, as ſeemed rather to invite than deter an invader.

Alexander, after marching from Tarſis, ar⯑rived at Bactriana; from thence, ſtill earneſt in coming up with his enemy, he came to Solae, where he offered ſacrifice to Eſculapius; from thence he went forward to Pyramus, to Malles, and at laſt to Cartabala: it was here that he firſt received advice, that Darius, with his whole army, was encamped at Sochus in Aſ⯑ſyria, two days journey from Cilicia. He therefore reſolved, without delay, to meet him there, as the badneſs of the weather ob⯑liged him to halt.

In the mean time Darius led on his immenſe army into the plains of Aſſyria, which they co⯑vered to a great extent; there he was adviſed by the Grecian commanders who were in his ſer⯑vice, and who compoſed the ſtrength of his army to halt, as he would there have ſufficient room to expand his forces, and ſurround the invader. Darius rejected their advice; and inſtead of waiting Alexander's approach, vainly puffed up with pride by his ſurrounding courtiers, he re⯑ſolved to purſue the invader, who wiſhed for [183] nothing more ardently than to come to an en⯑gagement.

Accordingly, Darius having ſent his treaſures to Damaſcus, a city of Aſſyria, he marched with the main body of his army towards Cilicia, then turned ſhort towards Iſſus; and quite ignorant of the ſituation of the enemy, ſuppoſed he was purſuing Alexander, when he had actually left him in the rear. There is a ſtrange mixture of pride, cruelty, ſplendor and magnanimity, in all the actions of this Perſian prince. At Iſſus he barbarouſly put to death all the Greeks who were ſick in that city, a few ſoldiers only excepted, whom he diſmiſſed, after having made them view every part of his camp, in order to report his numbers and his ſtrength to the in⯑vader: theſe ſoldiers accordingly brought Alex⯑ander word of the approach of Darius; and he now began to think ſeriouſly of preparing for battle.

Alexander fearing, from the numbers of the enemy, that they would attack him in his camp, fortified it with a ditch and a rampart; but at the ſame time diſcovered great joy to ſee the enemy haſtening to its own deſtruction, and preparing to attack him in a place which was but wide enough for a ſmall army to act and move at liberty in. Thus the two armies were [184] in ſome meaſure reduced to an equality: the Macedonians had ſpace ſufficient to employ their whole force, while the Perſians had not room for the twentieth part of theirs.

Nevertheleſs, Alexander, as frequently hap⯑pens to the greateſt captains, felt ſome emotion when he ſaw that he was going to hazard all at one blow. The more Fortune had favoured him hitherto, the more he now dreaded her frowns; the moment approaching which was to determine his fate. But, on the other ſide, his courage revived, from the reflection, that the rewards of his toils exceeded the dangers of them; and though he was uncertain with regard to the victory, he at leaſt hoped to die gloriouſly, and like Alexander. However, he did not divulge theſe thoughts to any one; well knowing, that, upon the approach of a battle, a general ought not to diſcover the leaſt marks of ſadneſs or perplexity; and that the troops ſhould read nothing but reſolution and intrepidity in the countenance of their commander.

Having made his ſoldiers refreſh themſelves, and ordered them to be ready for the third watch of the night, which began at twelve, he went to the top of a mountain, and there, by torch-light, ſacrificed, after the manner of his country, to the gods of the place. As ſoon as [185] the ſignal was given, his army, which was ready to march and fight, being commanded to make great ſpeed, arrived by day-break at the ſeveral poſts aſſigned them. But now the ſpies bring⯑ing word that Darius was not above thirty furlongs from them, the king cauſed his army to halt, and then drew it up in battle array. The peaſants, in the greateſt terror, came alſo, and acquainted Darius with the arrival of the enemy; which he would not at firſt believe, imagining, as we have obſerved, that Alex⯑ander fled before him, and was endeavouring to eſcape. This news threw his troops into the utmoſt confuſion; who, in their ſurpriſe, ran to their arms with great precipitation and diſorder.

The ſpot where the battle was fought, lay near the city of Iſſus, which the mountains bounded on one ſide, and the ſea on the other. The plain that was ſituated between them both muſt have been conſiderably broad, as the two armies encamped in it; and I before obſerved, that Darius's army was vaſtly numerous. The river Pinarius, ran through the middle of this plain from the mountain to the ſea, and divided it very near into two equal parts. The mountain formed a hollow kind of gulph, the extremity of which in a curved line, bounded part of the plain.

[186] Alexander drew up his army in the following order. He poſted at the extremity of the right wing, which ſtood near the mountains, the Argyraſpides, commanded by Nicanor; then the phalanx of Coenus, and afterwards that of Perdicas, which terminated in the center of the main army. On the extremity of the left wing, he poſted the phalanx of Amyntas, then that of Ptolemy, and laſtly that of Meleager. Thus the famous Macedonian phalanx was formed, which we find was com⯑poſed of ſix diſtinct bodies. Each of thoſe was headed by able generals; but Alexander being always generaliſſimo, had conſequently the command of the whole army. The horſe were placed on the two wings; the Macedo⯑nians with the Theſſalians on the right, and of Peloponneſians, with the other allies on the left. Craterus commanded all the foot, which compoſed the left wing, and Parmenio the whole wing. Alexander had reſerved to him⯑ſelf the command of the right. He had deſir⯑ed Parmenio to keep as near the ſea as poſſible, to prevent the barbarians from ſurrounding him; and Nicanor on the contrary, was ordered to keep at ſome diſtance from the mountains, to keep himſelf out of the reach of the arrows diſ⯑charged by thoſe who were poſted on them. He [187] covered the horſe on his right wing with the light horſe of Protomachus and the Poeonians, and his foot with the bowmen of Antiochus. He reſerved the Agrians (commanded by At⯑talus,) who were greatly eſteemed, and ſome forces that were newly arrived from Greece, to oppoſe thoſe Darius had poſted on the moun⯑tains.

As for Darius's army, it was drawn up in the following order. Having heard that Alex⯑ander was marching towards him in battle array, he commanded thirty thouſand horſe, and twenty thouſand bowmen to croſs the river Pinarius, that he might have an opportunity to draw up his army in a commodious manner on the hither ſide. In the center he poſted the thirty thouſand Greeks in his ſervice, who doubtleſs were the flower and chief ſtrength of his army, and were not at all inferior in bravery to the Macedonian phalanx, with thirty thou⯑ſand Barbarians on their right, and as many on their left. The field of battle not being able to contain a greater number, theſe were all heavily armed. The reſt of the infantry diſ⯑tinguiſhed by their ſeveral nations, were ranged behind the firſt line. It is pity Arrian does not tell us the depth of each of thoſe two lines; but it muſt have been prodigious, if we conſider [188] the extreme narrowneſs of the paſs, and the amazing multitude of the Perſian forces. On the mountain which lay to their left, againſt Alexander's right wing, Darius poſted twenty thouſand men, who were ſo ranged (in the ſeveral windings of the mountain) that ſome were behind Alexander's army, and others be⯑fore it.

Darius, after having ſet his army in battle array, made his horſe croſs the river again, and diſpatched the greateſt part of them towards the ſea againſt Parmenio, becauſe they could fight on that ſpot with the greateſt advantage. The reſt of his cavalry he ſent to the left, to⯑wards the mountain. However, finding that theſe would be of no ſervice on that ſide, be⯑cauſe of the too great narrowneſs of the ſpot, he cauſed a great part of them to wheel about to the right. As for himſelf he took his poſt in the center of his army, purſuant to the cuſtom of the Perſian monarchs.

The two armies being thus drawn up in order of battle, Alexander marched very ſlowly, that his ſoldiers might take a little breath; ſo that it was ſuppoſed they would not engage till very late. For Darius ſtill continued with his army on the other ſide of the river, in order not to loſe the advantageous ſituation of his poſt; [189] and even cauſed ſuch parts of the ſhore as were not craggy to be ſecured with paliſadoes, where the Macedonians concluded that he was already afraid of being defeated. The two armies being come in ſight, Alexander riding along the ranks, called by their ſeveral names, the principal officers both of the Macedonians and foreigners; and exhorted the ſoldiers to ſignalize themſelves, ſpeaking to each nation according to its pecu⯑liar genius and diſpoſition. The whole army ſet up a ſhout and eagerly deſired to be led on directly againſt the enemy.

Alexander had advanced at firſt very ſlowly to prevent the ranks on the front of his phalanx from breaking, and halted by intervals. But when he was got within bow-ſhot, he com⯑manded all his right wing to plunge impetu⯑ouſly into the river, purpoſely that he might ſurprize the barbarians, come ſooner to a cloſe engagement, and be leſs expoſed to the enemy's arrows; in all which he was very ſucceſsful. Both ſides fought with the utmoſt bravery and reſolution; and being now forced to fight cloſe, they charged both ſides ſword in hand, when a dreadful ſlaughter enſued, for they engaged man to man, each aiming the point of his ſword at the face of his opponent. Alexander who performed the duty both of a private ſoldier [190] and of a commander, wiſhed nothing ſo ar⯑dently as the glory of killing with his own hand Darius, who being ſeated on a high cha⯑riot, was conſpicuous to the whole army; and by that means was a powerful object both to encourage his own ſoldiers to defend, and the enemy to attack him. And now the battle grew more furious and bloody than before, ſo that a great number of Perſian noblemen were killed. Each ſide fought with incredible bra⯑very. Oxathres, brother to Darius, obſerving that Alexander was going to charge that mo⯑narch with the utmoſt vigour, ruſhed before his chariot with the horſe under his command and diſtinguiſhed himſelf above the reſt. The horſes that drew Darius's chariot loſt all com⯑mand, and ſhook the yoke ſo violently, that they were upon the point of overturning the king, who ſeeing himſelf going to fall alive into the hands of his enemies, leaped down and mounted another chariot. The reſt obſerving this fled as faſt as poſſible, and throwing down their arms, made the beſt of their way. Alex⯑ander had received a ſlight wound in his thigh, but happily it was not attended with ill con⯑ſequences. Whilſt part of the Macedonian in⯑fantry (poſted to the right,) were driving the advantages they had gained againſt the Perſians, [191] the remainder of them who engaged the Greeks, met with greater reſiſtance. Theſe obſerving that the body of infantry in queſtion, were no longer covered by the right wing of Alex⯑ander's army, which was purſuing the enemy, came and attacked it in flank. The engagement was very bloody, and victory a long time doubt⯑ful. The Greeks endeavoured to puſh the Macedonians into the river, and to recover the diſorder into which the left wing had been thrown. The Macedonians alſo ſignalized them⯑ſelves with the utmoſt bravery, in order to pre⯑ſerve the advantage which Alexander had juſt before gained and ſupport the honour of their phalanx, which had always been conſidered as invincible. There was alſo a perpetual jealouſy between the Greeks and Macedonians, which greatly increaſed their courage, and made the reſiſtance on each ſide very vigorous. On Alexander's ſide Ptolemy the ſon of Seleucus, loſt his life with an hundred and twenty more conſiderable officers, who all had behaved with the utmoſt gallantry.

In the mean time the right wing, which was victorious under its Monarch, after defeating all who oppoſed it, wheeled to the left againſt thoſe Greeks who were fighting with the reſt of the Macedonian phalanx, whom they [192] charged very vigorouſly; and attacking them in flank entirely routed them.

At the very beginning of the engagement the Perſian cavalry, which was in the right wing (without waiting for their being attacked by the Macedonians) had croſſed the river and ruſhed upon the Theſſalian horſe, ſeveral of whoſe ſquadrons they broke. Upon this the remainder of the latter, in order to avoid the impetuoſity of the firſt charge, and oblige the Perſians to break their ranks, made a feint of retiring, as terrified by the prodigious numbers of the enemy. The Perſians ſeeing this, were filled with boldneſs and confidence; and there⯑upon, the greateſt part of them advancing, without order or precaution, as to a certain victory had no thoughts but of purſuing the enemy. Upon this the Theſſalians ſeeing them in ſuch confuſion, faced about on a ſudden and renewed the fight with freſh ardour. The Perſians made a brave defence, till they ſaw Darius put to flight, and the Greeks cut to pieces by the phalanx, when they fled in the utmoſt diſorder.

With regard to Darius, the inſtant he ſaw his left wing broke, he was one of the firſt who fled in his chariot; but get⯑ting afterwards into craggy rugged places, [193] he mounted on horſeback, throwing down his bow, ſhield and royal mantle. Alexander, however did not attempt to purſue him, till he ſaw his phalanx had conquered the Greeks, and the Perſian horſe put to flight; which was of great advantage to the prince that fled.

Syſigambis, Darius's mother, and that mo⯑narch's queen, who alſo was his ſiſter, were found remaining in the camp, with two of the king's daughters, his ſon (yet a child) and ſome Per⯑ſian ladies; for the reſt had been carried to Damaſcus, with part of Darius's treaſure, and all ſuch things as contributed only to the luxury and magnificence of his court. No more than three thouſand talents were found in his camp; but the reſt of the treaſure fell after⯑wards into the hands of Parmenio, at the taking the city of Damaſcus.

As for the barbarians, having exerted them⯑ſelves with bravery enough in the firſt attack, they afterwards gave way in the moſt ſhameful manner; and being intent upon nothing but ſaving themſelves, they took different ways. Some ſtruck into the high road, which led directly to Perſia; others ran into woods and lonely mountains; and a ſmall number return⯑ed to their camp, which the victorious enemy had already taken and plundered. In this battle [194] threeſcore thouſand of the Perſian infantry and ten thouſand horſemen were ſlain; forty thou⯑ſand were taken priſoners, while of Alexander's army there fell but two hundred and fourſcore men in all.

The evening after the engagement, Alexander invited his chief officers to a feaſt, at which he himſelf preſided, notwithſtanding he had been wounded that day in battle. The feſtivity how⯑ever had ſcarce begun, when they were inter⯑rupted by ſad lamentations from a neighbour⯑ing tent, which at firſt they conſidered as a freſh alarm, but they were ſoon taught, that it came from the tent, in which the wife and mother of Darius were kept, who were ex⯑preſſing their ſorrow for the ſuppoſed death of Darius. An eunuch, who had ſeen his cloak in the hands of a ſoldier, imagining he was killed, brought them theſe dreadful tidings. Alex⯑ander, however ſent one of his officers to un⯑deceive them, and to inform them that the emperor was ſtill alive. The women little uſed to the appearance of ſtrangers, upon the ar⯑rival of the Macedonian ſoldier, imagining he was ſent to put them to death, threw themſelves at his feet, and intreated him to ſpare them a little while. They were ready they ſaid to die; and only deſired to bury Darius, before [195] they ſhould ſuffer. The ſoldier aſſured them, that he came rather to comfort than afflict them, that the monarch whom they deplored, was ſtill living, and he gave Syſigambis his hand to raiſe her from the ground.

The next day Alexander, after viſiting the wounded, cauſed the laſt honours to be paid to the dead in preſence of the whole army, drawn up in the moſt ſplendid order of battle. He treated the Perſians of diſtinction in the ſame manner, and permitted Darius's mother, to bury whatever perſons ſhe pleaſed according to the cuſtoms, and ceremonies practiſed in her country. After this, he ſent a meſſage to the queens, to inform them, that he was coming to pay them a viſit; and accordingly, com⯑manding all his train to withdraw, he entered the tent accompanied only by Hephoeſtion, who made ſo cautious and diſcreet a uſe of the liberty granted him, that he ſeemed to take it not ſo much out of inclination, as from a deſire to obey the king who would have it ſo. They were of the ſame age, but Hephoeſtion was taller, ſo that the queens took him firſt for the king, and paid him their reſpects as ſuch. But ſome captive eunuchs ſhewing them Alexander, Syſi⯑gambis fell proſtrate before him, and intreated pardon for her miſtake, but the king raiſing [196] her from the ground, aſſured her this his friend alſo was another Alexander; and after com⯑forting her and her attendants, took the ſon of Darius that was yet but a child in his arms. The infant, without diſcovering the leaſt terror, ſtretched out his arms to the conqueror, who being affected with its confidence, ſaid to Hephoeſtion, Oh! that Darius had ſome ſhare, ſome portion of this infant's generoſity.—This interview has done more honour to Alexander's character, than all the reſt of: his conqueſts: the gentleneſs of his manners to the ſuppliant captives, his chaſtity and continence, when he had the power to enforce obedience, were ſetting an example to heroes, which it has been the pride of many ſince to imitate.

After this overthrow, all Phoenicia, the ca⯑pital city of Tyre only excepted, was yielded to the conqueror, and Parmenio was made gover⯑nor. Good fortune followed him ſo faſt, that it rewarded him beyond his expectations. An⯑tigonus his general in Aſia, overthrew the Ca⯑padocians, Paphlagonians, and others lately re⯑volted. Ariſtodemus the Perſian admiral, was overcome at ſea, and a great part of his fleet taken. The city of Damaſcus alſo, in which the treaſures of Darius were depoſited, was given up to Alexander. The governor of this [197] place forgetting the duty he owed his ſovereign, informed Alexander by letter upon a certain day, that he would lead out his ſoldiers laden with ſpoil from the city, as if willing to ſecure a retreat; and theſe with all their wealth might be taken with a proper body of troops to intercept them. Alexander punctually followed the go⯑vernor's inſtruction, and thus became poſſeſſed of an immenſe plunder. Beſides money and plate which was afterwards coined, and amount⯑ed to immenſe ſums, thirty thouſand men and ſeven thouſand beaſts laden with baggage were taken. We find by Parmenio's letter to Alex⯑ander, that he found in Damaſcus, three hun⯑dred and twenty nine of Darius's concubines all admirably well ſkilled in muſic, and alſo a multitude of officers, whoſe buſineſs it was to regulate and prepare every thing relating to that monarch's entertainments.

In the mean time, Darius having travelled on horſeback the whole night, ſtruck with terror and conſternation, arrived in the morning at Sochus, where he aſſembled the remains of his army: ſtill however his pride would not for⯑ſake him with his fortune; he wrote a letter to Alexander, in which he rather treated him as an inferior; he commanded, rather than re⯑queſted that Alexander would take a ranſom [198] for his mother, wife and children. With re⯑gard to the empire, he would fight with him for it upon equal terms; and bring an equal number of troops into the field. To this Alex⯑ander replied, That he diſdained all correſpon⯑dence with a man whom he had already over⯑come; that in caſe he appeared before him in a ſupplicating poſture, he would give up his wife and mother without ranſom; that he knew how to conquer, and to oblige the conquered.

Thus coming to no iſſue, the king marched from thence into Phoenicia, the citizens of Byblos opening their gates to him. Every one ſubmitted as he advanced, but no people did this with greater pleaſure than the Sidonians: We have ſeen in what manner Ochus had de⯑ſtroyed their city eighteen years before, and put all the inhabitants of it to the ſword. After he was returned into Perſia, ſuch of the citizens, as, upon account of their traffic or for ſome other cauſe, had been abſent, and by that means had eſcaped the maſſacre, returned thither and rebuilt their city. But they had retain⯑ed ſo violent a hatred to the Perſians, that they were overjoyed at this opportunity of throwing off their yoke; and indeed they were the firſt in that country who ſubmitted to the king by their deputies, in oppoſition to Strato their [199] king, who had declared in favour of Darius. Alexander dethroned him, and permitted He⯑phoeſtion to elect in his ſtead, whomſoever of the Sidonians he ſhould judge worthy of ſo ex⯑alted a ſtation.

This favourite was quartered at the houſe of two brothers who were young, and of the moſt conſiderable family in the city; to theſe he of⯑fered the crown. But they refuſed it, telling him that according to the laws of their country, no perſon could aſcend the throne unleſs he were of the blood royal. Hephoeſtion admiring this greatneſs of ſoul, which could contemn what others ſtrive to obtain by fire and ſword; ‘"Continue, ſays he to them, in this way of thinking, you who before were ſenſible that it is much more glorious to refuſe a diadem, than to accept it. However, name me ſome perſon of the royal family, who may remem⯑ber when he is king, that it was you ſet the crown on his head."’ The brothers obſerv⯑ing, that ſeveral through exceſſive ambition; aſpired to this high ſtation, and to obtain it, paid a ſervile court to Alexander's favourites, declared, that they did not know any perſon more worthy of the diadem than one Abdolo⯑nymus, deſcended, though at a great diſtance, from the royal line; but who, at the ſame time [200] was ſo poor that he was obliged to get his bread by day labour in a garden without the city. His honeſty and integrity had reduced him, as well as many more, to ſuch extreme poverty. Solely intent upon his labour, he did not hear the claſhing of the arms which had ſhaken all Aſia.

Immediately the two brothers went in ſearch of Abdolonymus, with the royal garments, and found him weeding in his garden. When they ſaluted him king, Abdolonymus looked upon the whole as a dream; and, unable to gueſs the meaning of it, aſked if they were not aſhamed to ridicule him in that manner? But as he made a greater reſiſtance than ſuited their incli⯑nations, they themſelves waſhed him, and threw over his ſhoulders a purple robe, richly em⯑broidered with gold; then after repeated oaths of their being in earneſt, they conducted him to the palace.

The news of this was immediately ſpread over the whole city. Moſt of the inhabitants were overjoyed at it, but ſome murmured, eſ⯑pecially the rich, who deſpiſing Abdolonymus's former abject ſtate, could not forbear ſhewing their reſentment upon that account in the king's court. Alexander commanded the new-elected prince to be ſent for, and after ſurveying him [210] attentively a long time, he ſpoke thus: ‘"Thy air and mien do not contradict what is related of thy extraction; but I ſhould be glad to know with what frame of mind thou didſt bear thy poverty?"’ ‘"Would to the gods (replied he) that I may bear this crown with equal patience. Theſe hands have procured me all I deſired; and whilſt I poſſeſſed nothing, I wanted no⯑thing."’ This anſwer gave Alexander an high idea of Abdolonymus's virtue; ſo that he pre⯑ſented him, not only with the rich furniture which had belonged to Strato, and part of the Perſian plunder, but likewiſe annexed one of the neighbouring provinces to his dominions.

Syria and Phoenicia, were already ſubdued by the Macedonians, the city of Tyre except⯑ed. This city was juſtly entitled the Queen of the Sea, that element bringing to it the tribute of all nations. She boaſted her having firſt in⯑vented navigation, and taught mankind the art of braving the winds and waves by the aſſiſtance of a frail bark. The happy ſituation of Tyre, the conveniency and extent of its ports, the character of its inhabitants, who were induſ⯑trious, laborious, patient, and extremely cour⯑teous to ſtrangers; invited thither merchants from all parts of the globe, ſo that it might be conſidered, not ſo much as a city belonging to [202] any particular nation, as the common city of all nations, and the center of their commerce.

Alexander thought it neceſſary both for his pride and his intereſt to take this city. The ſpring was now coming on. Tyre was at that time ſeated in an iſland of the ſea, about a quarter of a league from the continent. It was ſurrounded with a ſtrong wall, an hun⯑dred and fifty feet high, which the waves of the ſea waſhed, and the Carthaginians (a colony from Tyre) a mighty people, and ſovereigns of the ocean, whoſe ambaſſadors were at that time in the city offering to Hercules, according to ancient cuſtom, an annual ſacrifice, had en⯑gaged themſelves to ſuccour the Tyrians. It was this made them ſo haughty; firmly deter⯑mined not to ſurrender, they fix machines on the ramparts and on the towers, arm their young men, and build workhouſes for the arti⯑ficers, of whom there were great numbers in the city, ſo that every part reſounded with the noiſe of warlike preparations. They likewiſe caſt iron grapples to throw on the enemy's works, and tear them away; as alſo cramp irons, and ſuch like inſtruments formed for the defence of cities. So many difficulties oppoſing ſuch a hazardous deſign, and ſo many reaſons ſhould have made Alexander decline the ſiege.

[203] It was impoſſible to come near this city in order to ſtorm it, without making a bank, which would reach from the continent to the iſland; and an attempt of this kind would be attended with difficulties, that were ſeem⯑ingly inſurmountable. The little arm of the ſea, which ſeparated the iſland from the con⯑tinent, was expoſed to the weſt wind, which often raiſed ſuch dreadful ſtorms there, that the waves would in an inſtant, ſweep away all works. Beſides, as the city was ſurrounded on all ſides by the ſea, there was no fixing ſcaling ladders, nor throwing up batteries, but at a diſtance in the ſhips; and the wall which pro⯑jected into the ſea towards the lower part, pre⯑vented people from landing; not to mention that the military engines, which might have been put on board the gallies, could not do much execution, the waves were ſo very tu⯑multuous.

Theſe obſtacles however by no means retard⯑ed the enterprizing reſolutions of Alexander, but willing to gain a place, rather by treaty than by the ſword, he ſent heralds into the place, propoſing a peace, between the Tyrians and him. The citizens however, a tumultuous un⯑governable body, inſtead of liſtening to his propoſals, inſtead of endeavouring to avert his [204] reſentment, contrary to the law of nations, killed his heralds, and threw them from the top of the walls into the ſea. This outrage inflamed Alexander's paſſions to the higheſt degree, he reſolved upon the city's deſtruction, and ſat down before it with perſevering reſentment. His firſt endeavour was to form a pier jutting from the continent, and reaching to the city which was built upon an iſland. From the foun⯑dations of an ancient city upon the ſhore, he dug ſtones and rubbiſh; from mount Lebanus, that hung over the city, he cut down cedars that ſerved for piles; and thus he began his work without interruption. But the farther they went from ſhore, the greater difficulties they met with, becauſe the ſea was deeper, and the workmen were much annoyed by the darts diſ⯑charged from the top of the walls. The enemy alſo who were maſters at ſea, coming in great boats, prevented the Macedonians from carry⯑ing on their work with vigour. At laſt, how⯑ever the pile appeared above water, a level of conſiderable breadth: then the beſieged at laſt perceived their raſhneſs; they ſaw with terror the vaſtneſs of the work which the ſea had till then kept from their ſight, and now began to attack the workmen with javelins and wound them at a diſtance. It was therefore [205] reſolved that ſkins and ſails ſhould be ſpread to cover the workmen, and that two wooden towers ſhould be raiſed at the head of the bank to prevent the approaches of the enemy. Yet theſe were burned ſoon after by the beſieged, together with all the wood-work compoſing the pile that could be touched by the fire.

Alexander though he ſaw moſt of his deſigns defeated, and his works demoliſhed, was not at all dejected upon that account. His ſoldiers en⯑deavoured with redoubled vigour, to repair the ruins of the bank; and made and planted new machines, with ſuch prodigious ſpeed as quite aſtoniſhed the enemy. Alexander himſelf was preſent on all occaſions, and ſuperintended every part of the works. His preſence and great abi⯑lities advanced theſe ſtill more, than the mul⯑titude of hands employed in them. The whole was near finiſhed, and brought almoſt to the wall of the city, when there aroſe on a ſudden an impetuous wind, which drove the waves with ſo much fury againſt the mole, that the cement and other things that barr'd it, gave way, and the water ruſhing through the ſtones, broke it in the middle. As ſoon as the great heap of ſtones which ſupported the earth was thrown down, the whole ſunk at once as into an abyſs.

Any warrior but Alexander would that inſtant have quite laid aſide his enterprize; and indeed [206] he himſelf debated whether he ſhould not raiſe the ſiege. But a ſuperior Power, who had foretold and ſworn the ruin of Tyre, and whoſe orders this prince only executed, prompted him to continue the ſiege; and, diſpelling all his fear and anxiety, inſpired him with courage and confidence, and fired the breaſts of his whole army with the ſame ſentiments. For now the ſoldiers, as if but that moment arrived be⯑fore the city, forgetting all the toils they had undergone, began to raiſe a new mole, at which they worked inceſſantly.

In the mean time, Alexander being con⯑vinced that while the enemy remained maſters at ſea, the city could not be taken, with great diligence procured a fleet from various parts, and embarking himſelf, with ſome ſoldiers from among his guard, he ſet ſail towards the Tyrian fleet, forming a line of battle. The Tyrians were at firſt determined to oppoſe him openly; but perceiving the ſuperiority of his forces, they kept all the gallies in their harbour, to pre⯑vent the enemy from entering there. Alexander therefore was contented to draw up his ſhips near the bank along the ſhore, where they rode in ſafety, and kept the enemy from annoying his workmen, who were employed upon the bank.

[207] The beſiegers, thus protected, went on with great vigour. The workmen threw into the ſea whole trees, with all their branches on them; and laid great ſtones over theſe, on which they put other trees, and the latter they covered with clay, which ſerved inſtead of mortar. Afterwards, heaping more trees and ſtones on theſe, the whole, thus joined together, formed one entire body. This bank was made wider than the former ones; in order that the towers that were built in the middle, might be out of the reach of ſuch arrows as ſhould be ſhot from thoſe ſhips which might attempt to break down the edges of the bank. Thus, after many delays, the patience of the workmen ſurmounting every obſtacle, it was at laſt finiſhed in its utmoſt perfection. The Mace⯑donians placed military engines of all kinds on the bank, in order to ſhake the walls with battering-rams, and hurl on the beſieged ar⯑rows, ſtones, and burning torches. Thus, by degrees, approaching to the foot of the wall, the Tyrians were attacked in cloſe combat, and inveſted on all ſides, both by ſea and land.

A general attack was now therefore thought neceſſary; and the king manning his gallies, which he had joined to each other, ordered them to approach the walls about midnight, [208] and attack the city with reſolution. The Ty⯑rians now gave themſelves over for loſt; when on a ſudden the ſky was overſpread with ſuch thick clouds, as quite took away the faint glimmerings of light which before darted through the gloom; the ſea roſe by inſenſible degrees, and the billows being ſwelled by the fury of the winds, encreaſed to a dreadful ſtorm; the veſſels daſhed one againſt the other with ſo much violence, that the cables, which before faſtened them together, were either looſened or broke to pieces; the planks ſplit, and making a horrible craſh, carried off the ſoldiers with them; for the tempeſt was ſo furious, that it was not poſſible to manage or ſteer the gallies thus faſtened together. At laſt, however, they brought them near the ſhore, but the greateſt part were in aſhattered condition.

This good fortune of the Tyrians was coun⯑terbalanced by an unexpected calamity; they had long expected ſuccours from Carthage, a flouriſhing colony of their own, but they now received advice from thence that the Car⯑thaginians were abſolutely unable to give them any aſſiſtance; being over-awed themſelves by a powerful army of Syracuſans, who were laying waſte their country. The Tyrians therefore, fruſtrated in their hopes, ſtill maintained their [209] reſolution of defending themſelves to the laſt extremity; and accordingly ſent off their women and children to Carthage, as being of no uſe in the defence of their city.

And now the engines playing, the city was warmly attacked on all ſides, and as vigorouſly defended. The beſieged, taught and animated by imminent danger, and the extreme neceſſity to which they were reduced, invented daily new arts, to defend themſelves, and repulſe the enemy. They warded off all the darts diſ⯑charged from the baliſtas againſt them, by the aſſiſtance of turning-wheels, which either broke them to pieces, or carried them another way. They deadened the violence of the ſtones that were hurled at them, by ſetting up a kind of ſails and curtains, made of a ſoft ſubſtance, which eaſily gave way. To annoy the ſhips which advanced againſt their walls, they fixed grappling irons and ſcythes to joiſts or beams; then ſtraining their catapultas (an enormous kind of croſs-bow), they laid thoſe great pieces of timber upon them inſtead of arrows, and ſhot them off on a ſudden at the enemy: theſe cruſhed ſome to pieces by their great weight; and the hooks, or penſile ſcythes, with which they were armed, tore others to pieces, and did conſiderable damage to their ſhips. They alſo [210] had brazen ſhields, which they drew red-hot out of the fire; and, filling theſe with burning ſand, hurled them in an inſtant from the top of the wall upon the enemy. There was nothing the Macedonians ſo much dreaded as this laſt in⯑vention; for, the moment this burning ſand got to the fleſh, through the crevices in the armour, it pierced to the very bone, and ſtuck ſo cloſe that there was no pulling it off; ſo that the ſoldiers throwing down their arms, and tearing their cloaths to pieces, were in this manner ex⯑poſed, naked and defenceleſs, to the ſhot of the enemy. It was now thought that Alexander, quite diſcouraged with his loſs, was determined to re⯑linquiſh the ſiege; but he reſolved to make a laſt effort, with a great number of ſhips, which he manned with the flower of his army. Ac⯑cordingly, a ſecond naval engagement was fought; in which the Tyrians, after fighting with intrepidity, were obliged to draw off their whole fleet towards the city. The king purſued their rear very cloſe, but was not able to enter the harbour, being repulſed by arrows ſhot from the walls: however, he either took or ſunk a great number of their ſhips.

Both the attack and defence were now more vigorous than ever. The courage of the com⯑batants increaſed with the danger; and each [211] ſide, animated by the moſt powerful motives, fought like lions. Wherever the battering-rams had beat down any part of the wall, and the bridges were thrown out, inſtantly the Argy⯑raſpides mounted the breach with the utmoſt valour, being headed by Admetus, one of the braveſt officers in the army, who was killed by the thruſt of a ſpear, as he was encouraging his ſoldiers. The preſence of the king, and eſpecially the example he ſet, fired his troops with unuſual bravery. He himſelf aſcended one of the towers, which was of a prodigious height, and there was expoſed to the greateſt dangers his courage had ever made him hazard; for being immediately known, by his inſignia, and the richneſs of his armour, he ſerved as a mark for all the arrows of the enemy. On this occaſion he performed wonders; killing with javelins ſeveral of thoſe who defended the wall; then advancing nearer to them, he forced ſome with his ſword, and others with his ſhield, either into the city or the ſea; the tower where he fought almoſt touching the wall. He ſoon aſcended the wall, by the aſſiſtance of floating bridges; and, followed by the principal officers, poſſeſſed himſelf of two towers, and the ſpace between them. The battering-rams had already made ſeveral breaches; the fleet had forced into the [212] harbour; and ſome of the Macedonians had poſſeſſed themſelves of the towers which were abandoned. The Tyrians ſeeing the enemy maſter of their rampart, retired towards an open place, called Agenor, and there ſtood their ground; but Alexander marching up with his regiment of body-guards, killed part of them, and obliged the reſt to fly. At the ſame time Tyre being taken on that ſide which lay towards the harbour, the Macedonians ran up and down every part of the city, ſparing no perſon who came in their way, being highly exaſperated at the long reſiſtance of the beſieged, and the bar⯑barities they had exerciſed towards ſome of their comrades, who had been taken in their return to Sidon, and thrown from the battle⯑ments, after their throats had been cut, in the ſight of the whole army. The Tyrians, thus reduced to the laſt extremity, ſhut themſelves up in their houſes, to avoid the ſword of the conqueror; others ruſhed into the midſt of the enemy, to ſell their lives as dearly as they could; and ſome threw ſtones from the tops of the houſes, to cruſh the ſailors below: the old men waited at their doors, expecting every inſtant to be ſacrificed, from the rage of the ſoldiers. In this general carnage, the Sidonian ſoldiers alone, that were in Alexander's army, ſeemed [213] touched with pity for the fate of their wretched inhabitants: they gave protection to many of the Tyrians, whom they conſidered as country⯑men, and carried great numbers of them pri⯑vately on board their ſhips. The numbers that were thus ſlaughtered by the enraged ſoldiers, were incredible: even after conqueſt, the victor's reſentment did not ſubſide; he ordered no leſs than two thouſand men, that were taken in the ſtorm, to be nailed to croſſes along the ſhore. The number of priſoners amounted to thirty thouſand, and were all ſold as ſlaves, in different parts of the world. Thus fell Tyre, that had been for many ages the moſt flouriſhing city in the world, and had ſpread the arts of commerce into the remoteſt regions.

Whilſt Alexander was carrying on the ſiege of Tyre, he received a ſecond letter from Darius, in which that monarch ſeemed more ſenſible of his power than before; he now gave him the title of king, and offered him ten thouſand ta⯑lents as a ranſom for his captive mother and wife; he offered him his daughter Statira in marriage, with all the country he had con⯑quered, as far as the river Euphrates; he hinted to him the inconſtancy of fortune, and deſcribed at large the powers he was ſtill poſ⯑ſeſſed of to oppoſe. Theſe terms were ſo con⯑ſiderable, [214] that when the king debated upon them in council, Parmenio, one of his generals, could not help obſerving, That if he were Alexander, he would agree to ſuch a propoſal; to which Alexander nobly replied, ‘"And ſo would I, were I Parmenio:"’ He therefore treated the propoſals of Darius with haughty contempt, and refuſed to accept of treaſures which he already conſidered as his own. From Tyre Alexander marched to Jeruſalem, fully reſolved to puniſh that city, for having refuſed to ſupply his army with proviſions during the late ſiege; but the reſentment of the conqueror was averted, by meeting a proceſſion of the in⯑habitants of that city on his way, marching out to receive him, dreſſed in white, with a Jewiſh high-prieſt before them, with a mitre on his head, on the front of which the name of God was written. The moment the king perceived the high-prieſt, he advanced towards him with an air of the moſt profound reſpect, bowed his body, adored the auguſt name upon his front, and ſaluted him who wore it with religious veneration. Then the Jews, ſurrounding Alex⯑ander, raiſed their voices to wiſh him every kind of proſperity. All the ſpectators were ſeized with inexpreſſible ſurpriſe; they could ſcarce believe their eyes; and did not know [215] how to account for a ſight ſo contrary to their expectation, and ſo vaſtly improbable.

Parmenio, who could not yet recover from his aſtoniſhment, aſked the king how it came to paſs that he who was adored by every one, adored the high-prieſt of the Jews: ‘"I do not," replied Alexander, "adore the high-prieſt, but the God whoſe miniſter he is; for whilſt I was at Dia in Macedonia, my mind wholly fixed on the great deſign of the Perſian [...]ar, as I was revolving the methods how to conquer Aſia, this very man, dreſſed in the ſame robes, appeared to me in a dream, exhorted me to baniſh my fear, bade me croſs the Helleſpont boldly, and aſſured me that God would march at the head of my army, and give me the victory over that of the Perſians."’ This ſpeech, delivered with an air of ſincerity, no doubt had its effect in encouraging the army, and eſtabliſhing an opinion that Alexander's miſſion was from Heaven. Alexander having embraced the high-prieſt, was conducted by him to the temple, where, after he had explained to him many prophecies in different parts of the Old Teſtament, concerning his invaſion, he taught him to offer up a ſacrifice in the Jewiſh manner.

Alexander was ſo much pleaſed with his re⯑ception upon this occaſion, that, before he left [216] Jeruſalem, he aſſembled the Jews, and bade them aſk any favour they ſhould think proper. Their requeſt was, To be allowed to live ac⯑cording to their ancient laws and maxims; to be exempted from tribute every ſeventh year, as they were by their laws exempted from la⯑bour, and could conſequently have no harveſts: they requeſted, that ſuch of their brethren as were ſettled in Aſia, ſhould be indulged in the ſame privileges. Thus, being gratified in all their deſires, great numbers of them offered to enliſt themſelves in his army. Soon after the Samaritans demanded the ſame favours; but he gave them an evaſive anſwer, and promiſed to take the matter into conſideration, upon his return.

From this city he went on to Gaza, where he found a more obſtinate reſiſtance than he had expected; but at length taking the town by ſtorm, and having cut the garriſon, conſiſting of ten thouſand men, to pieces, with brutal fero⯑city, he ordered Boetis, the governor, to be brought before him; and having in vain en⯑deavoured to intimidate him, commanded, at laſt, that holes ſhould be bored through his heels, and thus to be tied by cords to the back of his chariot, and in this manner to be dragged round the walls of the city. This he did in [217] imitation of Achilles, whom Homer deſcribes as having dragged Hector round the walls of Troy in the ſame manner; but it was reading the poet to very little advantage, to imitate his hero in the moſt unworthy part of his cha⯑racter.

As ſoon as Alexander had ended the ſiege of Gaza, he left a garriſon there, and turned the whole power of his arms towards Egypt. In ſeven days march he arrived before Peluſium, whither a great number of Egyptians had aſ⯑ſembled, with all imaginable diligence, to own him for their ſovereign; being heartily diſpleaſed with the Perſian government, as likewiſe the Perſian governors; as the one deſtroyed their liberty, the other ridiculed their religion. Maſaeus, the Perſian governor, who commanded in Memphis, finding it would be to no purpoſe for him to reſiſt ſo triumphant an army, and that Darius, his ſovereign, was not in a con⯑dition to ſuccour him, ſet open the gates of the city to the conqueror, and gave up eight hundred talents, (about one hundred and forty thouſand pounds) and all the king's furniture. Thus Alexander poſſeſſed himſelf of all Egypt, without meeting with the leaſt oppoſition.

He now therefore formed a deſign of viſiting the temple of Jupiter. This temple was ſituated [218] at a diſtance of twelve days journey from Memphis, in the midſt of the ſandy deſarts of Lybia. Alexander having read in Homer, and other fabulous authors of antiquity, that moſt of the heroes were repreſented as the ſons of ſome deity, was willing himſelf to paſs for a hero, and knew that he could bribe the prieſts to compliment him, as of celeſtial origin. Setting out therefore along the river Memphis, and after having paſſed Canopus, oppoſite the iſland of Pharos, he there laid the foundation of the city of Alexandria, which in a little time became one of the moſt flouriſhing towns for commerce in the world. From thence he had a journey of three hundred and forty miles to the temple of Jupiter; the way leading through inhoſpitable deſarts, and plains of ſand. The ſoldiers were patient enough for the two firſt days march, before they arrived amidſt the dreadful ſolitudes; but as ſoon as they found themſelves in vaſt plains, covered with ſands of a prodigious depth, they were greatly ter⯑rified. Surrounded as with a ſea, they gazed round as far as their ſight could extend, to diſcover if poſſible, ſome place that was in⯑habited; but all in vain, for they could not perceive ſo much as a ſingle tree, nor the leaſt footſteps of any land that had been cultivated. [219] To increaſe their calamity, the water that they had brought in goat-ſkins, upon camels, now failed, and there was not ſo much as a ſingle drop in all that ſandy deſart. They were however greatly refreſhed by the accidental falling of a ſhower, which ſerved to encourage them in their progreſs, till they came to the temple of the Deity. Nothing can be more fanciful than the deſcription the hiſtorians have given us of this gloomy retreat: it is repreſented as a ſmall ſpot of fertile ground, in the midſt of vaſt ſolitudes of ſand; it is covered with the thickeſt trees, that exclude the rays of the ſun; and watered with ſeveral ſprings, which pre⯑ſerved it in perpetual verdure; near the grove where the temple ſtood was the Fountain of the Sun, which at day-break was luke-warm, at noon cold, then towards evening inſenſibly grew warmer, and was boiling hot at midnight. The god worſhipped in this place, had his ſtatue made of emeralds, and other precious ſtones: and from the head to the navel re⯑ſembled a ram. No ſooner had Alexander appeared before the altar, than the high prieſt declared him to be the ſon of Jupiter; the conqueror quite intoxicated with adulation, aſked, Whether he ſhould have ſucceſs in his expedition; the prieſt anſwered, That he ſhould [220] be monarch of the world: the conqueror en⯑quired, If his father's murderers were puniſhed; the prieſt replied, That his father Jupiter was immortal, but that the murderers of Philip had been all extirpated.

Alexander having ended his ſacrifice, and rewarded the prieſts, who had been ſo liberal of their titles, from that time ſuppoſed himſelf or would have it ſuppoſed, that he was the ſon of Jupiter. Upon his return from the temple, and during his ſtay in Egypt, he ſettled the government of that country upon the moſt ſolid foundation; he divided it into diſtricts, over each of which he appointed a lieutenant, who re⯑ceived orders from himſelf alone. And thus having ſettled affairs there, he ſet out, in the beginning of ſpring, to march againſt Darius [...] who was now preparing to oppoſe him. He made ſome ſtay at Tyre, to ſettle the various affairs of the countries he had left behind; and advanced towards new conqueſts. On his march [...] the wife of Darius died in child-bed, and wa [...] honoured with a funeral ceremony, due to he [...] exalted character. He continued his journey towards the Tygris, where he at laſt expected to come up with the enemy, and to ſtrik [...] one blow, which ſhould decide the fate o [...] nations.

[221] Darius had already made overtures of peace to him twice; but finding at laſt that there were no hopes of their concluding one, unleſs he reſigned the whole empire to him, prepared himſelf again for battle. For this purpoſe, he aſſembled in Babylon an army half as numerous again as that at Iſſus, and marched it towards Nineveh. His forces co⯑vered all the plains of Meſopotamia. Advice being brought that the enemy was not far off, he cauſed Satropates, colonel of the cavalry, to advance at the head of a thouſand choſen horſe; and likewiſe gave ſix thouſand to Ma⯑ſaeus, governor of the province; all whom were to prevent Alexander from croſſing the river, and to lay waſte the country through which that monarch was to paſs. But he arrived too late.

The Tygris is the moſt rapid river of all the eaſt; and it was with ſome difficulty that Alex⯑ander's ſoldiers were able to ſtem the current, carrying their arms over their heads. The king walked on foot among the infantry, and pointed out with his hand the paſſage to his ſoldiers: he commanded them, with a loud voice, To ſave nothing but their arms; and let their baggage that retarded them in the water, float away with the ſtream. At length [222] they were drawn up in battle-array on the oppoſite ſhore; and encamped two days near the river, ſtill prepared for action. An eclipſe of the moon, which happened about that time, gave Alexander's ſoldiers great unea⯑ſineſs; but he brought forward ſome Egyptian ſoothſayers, who aſſured the army, That the moon portended calamities not to the Greeks, but the Perſians. By this artifice the hopes and the courage of the ſoldiers being revived once more, the king led them on to meet the enemy, and began his march at midnight. On his right hand lay the Tygris, and on his left the Gordylean mountains. At break of day, news was brought, that Darius was but twenty miles from the place they then were. All things now therefore threatened an approaching battle; when Darius, who had already twice ſued for peace, ſent new conditions, ſtill more advantageous than the former. But Alexander refuſed his offers; proudly replying, That the world would not permit two ſuns nor two ſovereigns. Thus all negociation being at an end, both ſides prepared for battle; equally irritated, and equally ambitious. Darius pitched his camp near a village called Gangamila, and the river Bumila, in a plain at a conſi⯑derable diſtance from Arbela. He had before [223] levelled the ſpot, which he pitched upon for the field of battle, in order that his chariots and cavalry might have full room to move in; that his fighting in the ſtreights of Cilicia, had loſt him the battle fought there.

Alexander upon hearing this news, continued four days in the place he then was to reſt his army, and ſurrounded his camp with trenches and palliſadoes; for he was determined to leave all his baggage, and the uſeleſs ſoldiers in it, and march the remainder againſt the enemy, with no other equipage than the arms they car⯑ried. Accordingly he ſet out about nine in the evening, in order to fight Darius at day break; who, upon this advice had drawn up his army in order of battle. Alexander alſo marched in battle-array; for both armies were within two or three leagues of each other. When he was arrived at the mountains, where he could diſ⯑cover the enemy's army, he halted; and having aſſembled his general officers, as well Macedo⯑nians as foreigners, he debated whether they ſhould engage immediately, or pitch their camp in that place. The latter opinion being fol⯑lowed, becauſe it was judged proper for them to view the field of battle, and the manner in which the enemy was drawn up, the army en⯑camped in the ſame order in which it had [224] marched; during which Alexander at the head of his infantry lightly armed, and his royal regi⯑ments, marched round the plain in which the battle was to be fought.

Being returned, he aſſembled his general of⯑ficers a ſecond time, and told them, that there was no occaſion for making a ſpeech, becauſe their courage and great actions were alone ſuf⯑ficient to excite them to glory; and he deſired them only to repreſent to the ſoldiers, that they were not to fight on this occaſion for Phoenicia or Aegypt, but for all Aſia, which would be poſſeſſed by him who ſhould conquer; and tha [...] after having gone through ſo many provinces [...] and left behind them ſo great a number of ri⯑vers and mountains; they could ſecure their re⯑treat no otherwiſe, than by gaining a complea [...] victory. After this ſpeech, he ordered them to take ſome repoſe.

It is ſaid Parmenio adviſed him to attack the enemy in the night time, alledging, that they might eaſily be defeated, if fallen upon by ſur⯑prize and in the dark; but the king anſwered ſo loud, that all preſent might hear him; tha [...] it did not become Alexander to ſteal a victory [...] and therefore he was reſolved to fight and con⯑quer in broad day light. This was a haughty [...] but at the ſame time, a prudent anſwer; fo [...] [225] it was running great hazard, to fall upon ſo numerous an army in the night time and in an unknown country. Darius fearing he ſhould be attacked at unawares, becauſe he had not intrenched himſelf, obliged his ſoldiers to con⯑tinue the whole night under arms, which prov⯑ed of the higheſt prejudice to him in the en⯑gagement. In the mean time Alexander went to bed to repoſe himſelf the remaining part of the night. As he revolved in his mind, not without ſome emotion, the conſequence of the battle, which was upon the point of being fought, he could not ſleep immediately. But his body being oppreſſed in a manner by the anxiety of his mind, he ſlept ſoundly the whole night, contrary to his uſual cuſtom, ſo that when his generals were aſſembled at day-break before his tent, to receive his orders, they were greatly ſurprized to find he was not awake; upon which they themſelves commanded the ſoldiers to take ſome refreſhment. Parmenio having at laſt awaked him, and ſeeming ſurprized to ſind him in ſo calm and ſweet a ſleep, juſt as he was going to fight a battle in which his whole fortune lay at ſtake, How could it be poſſible, ſaid Alexander, for me not to be calm, ſince the enemy is coming to deliver himſelf into my hands? Upon this he immediately took up his [226] arms, mounted his horſe, and rode up and down the ranks, exhorting the troops to behave gal⯑lantly, and if poſſible, to ſurpaſs their-ancient fame, and the glory they had hitherto acquired.

There was a great difference between the two armies in reſpect to numbers, but much more with regard to courage. That of Darius con⯑ſiſted at leaſt of ſix hundred thouſand foot and forty thouſand horſe; and the other of no more than forty thouſand foot, and ſeven or eight thouſand horſe, but the latter was all fire and ſtrength; whereas on the ſide of the Perſians it was a prodigious aſſemblage of men, not of ſoldiers; an empty phantom rather than a real army. Both ſides were diſpoſed in very near the ſame array. The forces were drawn up in two lines, the cavalry on the two wings, and the infantry in the middle; the one and the other being under the particular conduct of the chiefs of each of the different nations that com⯑poſed them; and commanded in general, by the principal crown officers. The front of the battle (under Darius) was covered with two hundred chariots, armed with ſcythes, and with fifteen elephants, that king taking his poſt in the center of the firſt line. Beſides the guards which were the flower of his forces, he alſo had fortified himſelf with the Grecian infantry, [227] whom he had drawn up near his perſon, believ⯑ing this body only capable of oppoſing the Ma⯑cedonian phalanx. As his army ſpread over a much greater ſpace of ground, than that of the enemy, he intended to ſurround and to charge them at one and the ſame time, both in front and flank, which from Alexander's diſpoſition, he ſoon after found impoſſible.

Darius being afraid leſt the Macedonians ſhould draw him from the ſpot of ground he had levelled, and carry him into another that was rough and uneven, commanded the cavalry in his left wing, which ſpread much farther than that of the enemy's right, to march direct⯑ly forward, and wheel about upon the Mace⯑donians in flank, to prevent them from extend⯑ing their troops farther. Upon which Alexander diſpatched againſt them the body of horſe in his ſervice, commanded by Menidas; but as theſe were not able to make head againſt the enemy, becauſe of their prodigious numbers, he rein⯑forced them with the Paeonians, whom Aretas commanded, and with the foreign cavalry. Be⯑ſides the advantage of numbers, the Perſians had that alſo of coats of mail, which ſecured them⯑ſelves and their horſes much more, and by which Alexander's cavalry was prodigiouſly annoyed. However, the Macedonians marched to the [228] charge with great bravery, and at laſt put the enemy to flight.

Upon this the Perſians oppoſed the chariots armed with ſcythes againſt the Macedonian phalanx, in order to break it, but with little ſucceſs. The noiſe which the ſoldiers, who were lightly armed, made by ſtriking their ſwords againſt their bucklers, and the arrows which flew on all ſides, frighted the horſes, and made a great number of them turn back againſt their own troops. Others laying hold of the horſes bridles, pulled the riders down and cut them to pieces. Part of the chariots drove between the battalions, which opened to make way for them as they had been ordered to do, by which means they did little or no execution.

Alexander ſeeing Darius ſet his whole army in motion, in order to charge him, employed a ſtratagem to encourage his ſoldiers. When the battle was at the hotteſt, and the Macedonians were in the greateſt danger, Ariſtander the ſoothſayer, clothed in his white robes, holding a branch of lawrel in his hand, advances among the combatants as he had been inſtructed by the king; and crying, that he ſaw an eagle hover⯑ing over Alexander's head (a ſure omen of vic⯑tory) he ſhewed with his finger, the pretended bird to the ſoldiers; who relying upon the ſin⯑cerity [229] of the ſoothſayer, fancied they alſo ſaw it; and thereupon renewed the attack with greater chearfulneſs and ardour than ever. Alex⯑ander now preſſed to the place in which Darius was ſtationed, and the preſence of the two op⯑poſing kings inſpired both ſides with vigour. Darius was mounted on a chariot, and Alex⯑ander on horſeback; both ſurrounded with their braveſt officers and ſoldiers, whoſe only endea⯑vours were to ſave the lives of their reſpective princes at the hazard of their own. The battle was obſtinate and bloody. Alexander having wounded Darius's equerry, with a javelin, the Perſians as well as Macedonians imagined that the king was killed; upon which the former, breaking aloud into the moſt diſmal ſounds, the whole army was ſeized with the greateſt con⯑ſternation. The relations of Darius, who were at his left hand, fled away with the guards, and ſo abandoned the chariot; but thoſe who were at his right, took him into the center of their body. Hiſtorians relate, that this prince hav⯑ing drawn his ſcymetar, reflected whether he ought not to lay violent hands upon himſelf, rather than fly in an ignominious manner. But perceiving from his chariot, that his ſoldiers ſtill fought, he was aſhamed to forſake them; and as divided between hope and deſpair, the [230] Perſians retired inſenſibly and thinned their ranks, when it could no longer be called a battle, but a ſlaughter. Then Darius turning about his chariot, fled with the reſt; and the conqueror was now wholly employed in pur⯑ſuing him. But in the mean time, finding that the left wing of his army, which was commanded by Parmenio, was in great danger, Alexander was obliged to deſiſt from purſuing Darius, whom he had almoſt overtaken, and wheeled round to attack the Perſian horſe, that, after plundering the camp, were retiring in good order; them he cut in pieces; and the ſcale of battle turning in favour of the Macedonians, a total rout of the Perſians enſued. The purſuit was warm, and the ſlaughter amazing: Alexander rode as far as Arbela after Darius; every moment hoping to come up with that monarch: he had juſt paſſed through when Alexander arrived, but he left his treaſure, with his bow and ſhield, as a prey to the enemy.

Such was the ſucceſs of this famous battle, which gave empire to the conqueror. Ac⯑cording to Arrian, the Perſians loſt three hundred thouſand men, beſides thoſe who were taken priſoners; which at leaſt is a proof that the loſs was very great on their ſide. That [231] of Alexander's was very inconſiderable; he not loſing, according to the laſt mentioned author, above twelve hundred men, moſt of whom were horſe. This engagement was fought in the month of October, about the ſame time, that two years before, the battle of Iſus was fought. As Gangamela, in Aſſyria, the ſpot where the two armies engaged, was a ſmall place of very little note, this was called the battle of Arbela, that city being neareſt to the field of battle.

Darius, after this dreadful defeat, rode to⯑wards the river Lycus, with a very few attend⯑ants; he was adviſed to break down the bridges to ſecure his retreat; but he refuſed, ſaying, He would not ſave his life, at the expence of thouſands of his ſubjects. After riding a great number of miles full ſpeed, he arrived, at midnight, at Arbela; from thence he fled to⯑wards Media, over the Armenian mountains, followed by his ſatraps, and a few of his guards, expecting the worſt, deſpairing of fortune, a wretched ſurvivor of his country's ruin.

In the mean time, Alexander approached near Babylon; and Mazaeus the governor, who had retired thither after the battle of Arbela, [232] ſurrendered it to him without ſtriking a blow. Alexander therefore entered the city, at the head of his whole army, as if he had been marching to a battle. The walls of Babylon were lined with people, notwithſtanding the greateſt part of the citizens were gone out before, from the impatient deſire they had to ſee their new ſovereign, whoſe renown had far outſtripped his march. Bagophanes, governor of the fortreſs, and guardian of the treaſure, unwilling to diſcover leſs zeal than Mazaeus, ſtrewed the ſtreets with flowers, and raiſed on both ſides of the way ſilver altars, which ſmoaked not only with frankincenſe, but the moſt fragrant perfumes of every kind. Laſt of all came the preſents which were to be made to the king; viz. herds of cattle, and a great number of horſes; as alſo lions and panthers, which were carried in cages. After theſe the Magi walked, ſinging hymns after the manner of their country; then the Chaldeans, ac⯑companied by the Babyloniſh ſoothſayers and muſicians. The rear was brought up by the Babyloniſh cavalry; of which, both men and horſes were ſo ſumptuous, that imagination can ſcarce reach their magnificence. The king cauſed the people to walk after the infantry, [233] and himſelf, ſurrounded with his guards, and ſeated on a chariot, entered the city, and from thence rode to the palace, as in a kind of triumph. The next day he took a view of all Darius's money and moveables, which amounted to incredible ſums, and which he diſtributed with generoſity among his ſoldiers. He gave the government of the province to Mazaeus; and the command of the forces he left there, to Apollodorus of Amphipolis.

From Rabylon Alexander marched to the province of Syraceni, afterwards to Suſa, where he arrived after a march of twenty days, and found treaſures to an infinite amount. Theſe alſo he applied to the purpoſes of rewarding merit and courage among his troops. In this city he left the mother and children of Darius; and from thence he went forward, till he came to a river called, Paſitigris. Having croſſed it, with nine thouſand foot, and three thouſand horſe, conſiſting of Agrians, as well as of Gre⯑cian mercenaries, and a reinforcement of three thouſand Thracians, he entered the country of Uxii. This region lies near Suſa, and extends to the frontiers of Perſia; a narrow paſs only lying between it and Suſiana. Madathes commanded this province. He was not a time-ſerver, nor a follower of fortune; but [234] faithful to his ſovereign; he reſolved to hold out to the laſt extremity; and for this purpoſe, had withdrawn into his own city, which ſtood in the midſt of craggy rocks, and was ſurrounded with precipices. Having been forced from thence, he retired into the citadel, whence the beſieged ſent thirty deputies to Alexander, to ſue for quarter, which they obtained at laſt, by the interpoſition of Syſigambis. The king not only pardoned Madathes, who was a near re⯑lation of that princeſs, but likewiſe ſet all the captives, and thoſe who had ſurrendered them⯑ſelves, at liberty, permitted them to enjoy their ſeveral rights and privileges, would not ſuffer the city to be plundered, but let them plough their lands, without paying any tribute. From thence he paſſed on to the paſs of Suſa, defended by mountains almoſt inacceſſible, and by Ariobarzanes, with a body of five thouſand men; he there ſtopped for a while, but being led by a different rout among the mountains, he came over the paſs and ſo cut the army that defended it in pieces.

Alexander, from an effect of the good for⯑tune which conſtantly attended him in all his undertakings, having extricated himſelf hap⯑pily out of the danger to which he was ſo lately expoſed, marched immediately towards [235] Perſia. Being on the road, he received letters from Tiridates, governor of Perſepolis, which informed him, that the inhabitants of that city, upon the report of his advancing towards him, were determined to plunder Darius's treaſures, with which he was intruſted; and therefore, that it was neceſſary for him to make all the haſte imaginable to ſeize them himſelf; that he had only the Araxes to croſs, after which the road was ſmooth and eaſy. Alexander, upon this news, leaving his infantry behind, marched the whole night at the head of his cavalry, who were very much harraſſed by the length and ſwiftneſs of his march, and paſſed the Araxes, on a bridge, which, by his order, had been but ſome days before.

But as he drew near the city, he perceived a large body of men, who exhibited a memorable example of the greateſt miſery. Theſe were about four thouſand Greeks, very far advanced in years, who having been made priſoners of war, had ſuffered all the torments which the Perſian tyranny could inflict. The hands of ſome had been cut off, the feet of others; and others again had loſt their noſes and ears. They appeared like ſo many ſhadows, rather than like men; ſpeech being almoſt the only thing by which they were known to be ſuch. [236] Alexander could not refrain from tears at this ſight; and as they irreſiſtably brought him to commiſerate their condition, he bade them, with the utmoſt tenderneſs, not to deſpond; and aſſured them, that they ſhould again ſee their wives and country. They choſe, however, to remain in a place where misfortune now be⯑came habitual; wherefore he rewarded them li⯑berally for their ſufferings, and commanded the governor of the province to treat them with mildneſs and reſpect. The day following he en⯑tered the city of Perſepolis, at the head of his victorious ſoldiers; who, though the inhabitants made no reſiſtance, began to cut in pieces all thoſe who ſtill remained in the city. However, the king ſoon put an end to the maſſacre, and forbid his ſoldiers further violence. The riches he had found in other places, were but trifling, when compared to thoſe he found here. This however, did not ſave the city; for being one day at a banquet among his friends, and hap⯑pening to drink to exceſs, the converſation ran upon the various cruelties exerciſed by the Perſians in Greece, particularly at Athens Thais, an Athenian courtezan, urged the pu⯑ſillanimity of not taking revenge for ſuch re⯑peated ſlaughters. All the gueſts applauded the diſcourſe; when immediately the king roſe from [237] table (his head being crowned with flowers), and taking a torch in his hand, he advanced forward, to execute his mad exploit. The whole company followed him, breaking into loud acclamations, and, after ſinging and dancing, ſurrounded the palace. All the reſt of the Macedonians, at this noiſe, ran in crowds, with lighted tapers, and ſet fire to every part of it. However, Alexander was ſorry not long after for what he had done; and thereupon gave orders for extinguiſhing the fire; but it was too late.

While Alexander was thus triumphing in all the exultation of ſucceſs, the wretched Darius was by this time arrived at Ecbatana, the ca⯑pital of Media. There remained ſtill with this fugitive prince thirty thouſand foot; among whom were four thouſand Greeks, that were faithful to him to the laſt: beſides theſe he had four thouſand ſlingers, and upwards of three thouſand Bactrian horſe, whom Beſſus, their go⯑vernor, commanded. Darius, even with ſo ſmall a force, ſtill conceived hopes of oppoſing his rival; or at leaſt of protracting the war: but he was ſurrounded with traitors; his want of ſucceſs had turned all mankind againſt him; but Nabarzanes, one of the greateſt lords of Perſia, and general of the horſe, had conſpired [238] with Beſſus, general of the Bactrians, to commit the blackeſt of all crimes, and that was, to ſeize upon the perſon of the king, and lay him in chains, which they might eaſily do; as each of them had a great number of ſol⯑diers under his command. Their deſign was, if Alexander ſhould purſue them, to ſecure themſelves, by giving up Darius alive into his hands; and, in caſe they eſcaped, to murder that prince, and afterwards uſurp his crown, and begin a new war. Theſe traitors ſoon won over the troops, by repreſenting to them, that they were going to their deſtruction; that they would ſoon be cruſhed under the ruins of an empire, which was juſt ready to fall, at the ſame time that Bactriana was open to them, and offered them immenſe riches. Theſe promiſes ſoon prevailed upon the per⯑fidious army; the traitors ſeized, and bound their monarch in chains of gold, under the appearance of honour, as he was a king; then encloſing him in a covered chariot, they ſet out towards Bactriana. In this man⯑ner they carried him, with the utmoſt diſ⯑patch; until being informed that the Grecian army was ſtill hotly purſuing them, they found it impoſſible either to conciliate the friendſhip of Alexander, or to ſecure a throne for them⯑ſelves: [239] they therefore once more gave Darius his liberty, and deſired him to make the beſt of his eſcape with them from the conqueror; but he replied, That the gods were ready to revenge the evils he had already ſuffered; and, appeal⯑ing to Alexander for juſtice, refuſed to follow a band of traitors. At theſe words they fell into the utmoſt fury, thruſting him with their darts and their ſpears, and left him to linger in this manner, unattended, the remains of his wretch⯑ed life. The traitors then made their eſcape dif⯑ferent ways; while the victorious Macedonians at length coming up, found Darius in a ſoli⯑tude, lying in his chariot, and drawing near his end. However, he had ſtrength enough before he died, to call for drink; which a Macedonian, Polyſtratus by name, brought him. He had a Perſian priſoner, whom he employed as his interpreter. Darius, after drinking the liquor that had been given him, turned to the Mace⯑donian, and ſaid, That in the deplorable ſtate to which he was reduced, he however ſhould have the comfort to ſpeak to one who could underſtand him; and that his laſt words would not be loſt. He therefore charged him to tell Alexander, That he had died in his debt, that he gave him many thanks, for the great hu⯑manity he had exerciſed towards his mother, [240] his wife, and his children, whoſe lives he had not only ſpared, but reſtored to their former ſplendor: that he beſought the gods to give victory to his arms, and make him monarch of the univerſe; that he thought he need not intreat him to revenge the execrable murder commited on his perſon, as this was the common cauſe of kings.

After this, taking Polyſtratus by the hand, ‘"Give him," ſaid he, "thy hand, as I give thee mine; and carry him, in my name, the only pledge I am able to give of my grati⯑tude and affections:"’ ſaying theſe words, he breathed his laſt.

Alexander coming up a moment after, and ſeeing Darius's body, he wept bitterly; and by the ſtrongeſt teſtimonies of affection that could be given, proved how intimately he was affected with the unhappineſs of a prince who deſerved a better fate. He immediately pulled off his military cloak, and threw it on Darius's body; then cauſing it to be embalmed, and his coffin to be adorned with royal magnificence, he ſent it to Syſigambis, to be interred with the honours uſually paid to the deceaſed Perſian monarchs, and entombed with his anceſtors. Thus died Darius, in the fiftieth year of his age; ſix of which he reigned with felicity: in him [241] the Perſian empire ended, after having exiſted, from the time of Cyrus the Great, a period of two hundred and ninety-nine years.

The death of Darius only ſerved to inflame the ſpirit of ambition in Alexander to purſue further conqueſts. After having in vain at⯑tempted to purſue Beſſus, who now aſſumed the name of king, he deſiſted, in order to croſs Parthia; and in three days arrived on the frontiers of Hyrcania, which ſubmitted to his arms. He afterwards ſubdued the Mandii, the Arii, the Drangae, the Arachoſii, and ſeveral other nations; into which his army marched with greater ſpeed, than people ge⯑nerally travel. He frequently would purſue an enemy for whole days and nights together; almoſt without ſuffering his troops to take any reſt. By this prodigious rapidity, he came unawares upon nations who thought him at a great diſtance; and ſubdued them, before they had time to put themſelves in a poſture of defence.

It was upon one of theſe excurſions that Thaleſtris, queen of the Amazons, came to pay him a viſit. A violent deſire of ſeeing Alexander, had prompted that princeſs to leave her dominions, and travel through a great number of countries to gratify her curioſity. [242] Being come pretty near his camp, ſhe ſent word, That a queen was come to viſit him; and that ſhe had a prodigious inclination to cultivate his acquaintance; and accordingly was arrived within a little diſtance from that place. Alexander having returned a favour⯑able anſwer, ſhe commanded her train to ſtop, and herſelf came forward, with three hundred women; and the moment ſhe perceived the king, ſhe leaped from her horſe, having two lances in her right hand. She looked upon the king without diſcovering the leaſt ſign of admiration, and ſurveying him attentively, did not think his ſtature anſwerable to his fame; for the Barbarians are very much ſtruck with a majeſtic air; and think thoſe only capable of mighty atchievements, on whom nature has beſtowed bodily advantages. She did not ſcruple to tell him that the chief motive of her journey was to have poſterity by him; adding, that ſhe was worthy of giving heirs to his empire. Alexander, upon this requeſt, was obliged to make ſome ſtay in this place; after which, Thaleſtris returned to her kingdom, and the king into the province inhabited by the Parthians.

Alexander now enjoying a little repoſe, aban⯑dones himſelf to ſenſuality, and he whom the [243] arms of the Perſians could not conquer, fell a victim to their vices. Nothing was now to be ſeen but games, parties of pleaſure, women and exceſſive feaſting; in which he uſed to revel whole days and nights. Not ſatisfied with the buffoons, and the performers on inſtrumental muſic, whom he had brought with him out of Greece, he obliged the captive women, whom he carried along with him, to ſing ſongs, after the manner of their country. He happened, among theſe women, to perceive one who appeared in deeper affliction than the reſt; and who, by a modeſt, and at the ſame time a noble confuſion, diſcovered a greater re⯑luctance than the others to appear in public. She was a perfect beauty, which was very much heightened by her baſhfulneſs; whilſt ſhe threw her eyes to the ground, and did all in her power to conceal her face. The king ſoon imagined, by her air and mien, that ſhe was not of vulgar birth, and enquiring himſelf into it, the lady anſwered, That ſhe was grand-daughter to Ochus, who not long before had ſwayed the Perſian ſcepter, and daughter of his ſon; that ſhe had married Hyſtaſpes, who was related to Darius, and general of a great army. Alexander being touched with compaſſion, when he heard the unhappy fate of a princeſs [244] of the blood royal, and the ſad condition to which ſhe was reduced, not only gave her liberty, but returned all her poſſeſſions; and cauſed her huſband to be ſought for, in order that ſhe might be reſtored to him.

But now the veteran ſoldiers who had fought under Philip, not having the leaſt idea of ſenſu⯑ality, inveighed publickly againſt the prodigious luxury, and the numerous vices which the army had learnt in Suſa and Ecbatena. The king therefore thought that the ſafeſt remedy would be to employ them, and for that pur⯑poſe led them againſt Beſſus. But as the army was incumbered with booty and an uſeleſs train of baggage, ſo that it could ſcarce move, he firſt cauſed all his own baggage to be carried into a great ſquare, and afterwards that of his army (ſuch things excepted as were abſolutely neceſ⯑ſary;) then ordered the whole to be carried from thence in carts to a large plain. Every one was in great pain to know the meaning of all this; but after he had ſent away the horſes, he himſelf ſet fire to his own things, and com⯑manded every one to follow his example.

Hitherto we have ſeen Alexander triumphing by a courſe of virtue, we are now to behold him ſwollen up by ſucceſs, ſpoiled by flattery and enervated by vices, exhibiting a very [245] doubtful character, and mixing the tyrant with the hero. A conſpiracy was formed againſt him by one Dymnus; this was communicated by a Macedonian ſoldier to Philotas one of Alexander's favourites. Philotas neglected di⯑vulging it to his maſter; and thus became ſuſpected himſelf as being concerned in the conſpiracy. Parmenio alſo the father of this young favourite became equally obnoxious, and as the ſuſpicion of tyrants is equally fatal with a conviction, Alexander doomed both to deſtruction.

In the beginning of the night various parties of guards having been poſted in the ſeveral places neceſſary, ſome entered the tent of Phi⯑lotas, who was then in a deep ſleep; when ſtarting from his ſlumbers, as they were putting manacles on his hands, he cried, Alas! my ſovereign, the inveteracy of my enemies has got the better of your goodneſs. After this they covered his face and brought him to the palace without uttering a ſingle word. His hands were tied behind him, and his head cover⯑ed with a coarſe worn-out piece of cloth. Loſt to himſelf, he did not dare to look up, or open his lips; but the tears ſtreaming from his eyes, he fainted away in the arms of the man who held him. As the ſtanders-by wiped off the tears in which his face was bathed, recovering [246] his ſpeech and his voice by inſenſible degrees, he ſeemed deſirous of ſpeaking.

The reſult of this interview was, that Phi⯑lotas ſhould be put to the rack. The perſons who preſided on that occaſion, were his moſt inveterate enemies, and they made him ſuffer every kind of torture. Philotas at firſt diſco⯑vered the utmoſt reſolution and ſtrength of mind; the torments he ſuffered not being able to force from him a ſingle word nor even ſo much as a ſigh. But at laſt conquered by pain, he confeſſed himſelf to be guilty, named ſeveral accomplices, and even accuſed his own father. The next day the anſwers of Philotas were read in full aſſembly, he himſelf being preſent. Upon the whole he was unanimouſly ſentenced to die; immediately after which he was ſtoned, according to the cuſtom of Mace⯑donia, with ſome other of the conſpirators.

The condemnation of Philotas brought on that of Parmenio: whether it were that Alex⯑ander really believed him guilty, or was afraid of the father, now he had put the ſon to death. Polydamus one of the lords of the court, was appointed to ſee the execution performed. He had been one of Parmenio's moſt intimate friends, if we may give that name to courtiers, who affect only their own fortunes. This was [247] the very reaſon of his being nominated, becauſe no one could ſuſpect, that he was ſent with any ſuch orders againſt Parmenio. He therefore ſet out for Media, where that general com⯑manded the army, and was intruſted with the king's treaſure, which amounted to an hundred and fourſcore thouſand talents, about twenty ſeven millions ſterling. Alexander had given him ſeveral letters for Cleander the king's lieutenant in the province; and for the prin⯑cipal officers. Two were for Parmenio; one of them from Alexander, and the other ſealed with Philotas's ſeal, as if he had been alive, to prevent the father from harbouring the leaſt ſuſpicion. Polydamus was but eleven days on his journey, and alighted in the night-time at Cleander's. After having taken all the precau⯑tions neceſſary, they went together with a great number of attendants to meet Parmenio, who at this time was walking in a park of his own. The moment Polydamus ſpied him, though at a great diſtance, he ran to embrace him with an air of the utmoſt joy; and after compli⯑ments, intermixed with the ſtrongeſt indica⯑tions of friendſhip, had paſſed on both ſides, he gave him Alexander's letter, which opening, and afterwards that under the name of Phi⯑lotas, he ſeemed pleaſed with the contents. [248] At that very inſtant Cleander thruſt a dagger into his ſide, then made another thruſt in his throat; and the reſt gave him ſeveral wounds, even after he was dead. He was at the time of his death threeſcore and ten years of age, and had ſerved his maſter with a fidelity and zeal which in the end was but very ill rewarded.

In order to prevent the ill conſequences that might ariſe from the contemplation of theſe cruelties, Alexander ſet out upon his march and continued to purſue Beſſus, upon which occaſion he expoſed himſelf to great hardſhips and dangers. Beſſus however was treated by his followers in the ſame manner he had treated the king his maſter: Spitamenes, his chief confi⯑dant, having formed a conſpiracy againſt him, ſeized his perſon, put him in chains, forced the royal robes from his back; and with a chain round his neck, he was delivered up in the moſt ignominious manner to Alexander. The king cauſed this man to be treated with his uſual cruelty; after reproaching him for his treachery, and cauſing his noſe and ears to be cut off, he ſent him to Ecbatana, there to ſuffer whatever puniſhment Darius's mother ſhould think proper to inflict upon him. Four trees were bent by main force, one towards the other, and to each of theſe trees one of the [249] limbs of this traitor's body was faſtened. Af⯑terwards theſe trees being let return to their natural poſition, they flew back with ſo much violence, that each tore away the limb that was fixed to it, and ſo quartered him.

Thus uniting in his perſon at once great cruelty and great enterprize, Alexander ſtill marched forward in ſearch of new nations whom he might ſubdue. A city inhabited by the Branchid he totally overturned, and maſſacred all the inhabitants in cool blood, only for be⯑ing deſcended from ſome traiterous Greeks, that had delivered up the treaſures of a temple with which they had been intruſted. He then ad⯑vanced to the river Jaxerthes, where he re⯑ceived a wound in the leg; from thence he went forward and took the capital of Sogdiana; he there received an embaſſy from the Scy⯑thians, who lived free and independent, but now ſubmitted to him. He then marched to Cyropolis and beſieged it. This was the laſt city of the Perſian empire, and had been built by Cyrus, after whom it was called, and taking the place he abandoned it to plunder. In this manner he went on capriciouſly deſtroying ſome towns and building others, ſettling colonies in ſome places, and laying whole provinces waſte at his pleaſure. Among his other projects an [250] invaſion of the kingdom of Scythia was one; but the croſſing of the river Jaxerthes was by no means an eaſy taſk; however Alexander being always foremoſt in encountring dangers, led on his troops acroſs the ſtream, which was very rapid, and gained a ſignal victory over the Scythians, who vainly attempted to oppoſe him on the other ſide.

A ſtrong hold called Petra Oxiani, defended by a garriſon of thirty thouſand ſoldiers, with ammunition and proviſion for two years, was ſtill conſidered as impregnable. However as difficulties only ſeemed to excite his ambition, his ſoldiers ſcaled the cliff, and the barbarians ſuppoſing that the whole Macedonian army was got over their heads, ſurrendered upon con⯑dition that their lives ſhould be ſpared; but Alexander forgetting the faith of treaty and the humanity which became a ſoldier on this occaſion, cauſed them all to be ſcourged with rods, and afterwards to be fixed to croſſes at the foot of the ſame rock.

After this having ſubdued the Maſſagetae and Dahae, he entered the province of Barſaria, from thence he advanced to Maracander, and appointed Clytus governor of that province. This was an old officer who had fought under Philip, and ſignalized himſelf on many oc⯑caſions. [251] At the battle of the Granicus, as Alexander was fighting bare-headed and Bo⯑ſaces had his arm raiſed, in order to ſtrike him behind, Clytus covered the king with his ſhield, and cut off the barbarian's hand. Hellanice, his ſiſter, had nurſed Alexander; and he loved her with as much tenderneſs as if ſhe had been his own mother.

This favour however, only advanced Clytus to a poſt of greater danger; one evening at an entertainment, the king after drinking immo⯑derately, began to celebrate his own exploits; his boaſting even ſhocked thoſe very perſons, who knew that he ſpoke truth, but particularly the old generals of his army, whoſe admira⯑tions were ingroſſed by the actions of his fa⯑ther. Clytus was intoxicated, and turning about to thoſe who ſat below him at table, quoted to them a paſſage from Euripides, but in ſuch a manner that the king could only hear his voice, and not the words diſtinctly. The ſenſe of the paſſage was, That the Greeks had done very wrong in ordaining, that in the inſcriptions en⯑graved on trophies, the names of kings only ſhould be mentioned; becauſe by theſe means, brave men were robbed of the glory they had purchaſed with their blood. The king ſuſ⯑pecting Clytus had let drop ſome diſobliging [252] expreſſions, aſked thoſe who ſat neareſt him, what he had ſaid. As no one anſwered, Clitus, raiſing his voice by degrees, began to relate the actions of Philip, and his wars in Greece, prefering them to whatever was doing at that time; which created a great diſpute between the young and old men. Though the king was prodigiouſly vexed in his mind, he never⯑theleſs ſtifled his reſentment, and ſeemed to liſten very patiently to all Clitus ſpoke to his prejudice. It is probable he would have quite ſuppreſſed his paſſion, had Clitus ſtopped there; but the latter growing more and more inſolent as if determined to exaſperate and in⯑ſult the king, he went ſuch lengths as to defend Parmenio publickly, and to aſſert, that the deſtroying of Thebes was but trifling, in com⯑pariſon of the victory which Philip had gained over the Athenians; and that the old Macedo⯑nians, though ſometimes unſucceſsful, were greatly ſuperior to thoſe who were ſo raſh as to deſpiſe them.

Alexander telling him that in giving cowar⯑dice the name of ill ſucceſs, he was pleading his own cauſe; Clitus riſes up, with his eyes ſparkling with wine and anger, ‘"It is never⯑theleſs this hand (ſaid he to him extending it at the ſame time) that ſaved your life at the [253] battle of Granicus. It is the blood and wounds of theſe very Macedonians who are accuſed of cowardice, that raiſed you to this grandeur; but the tragical end of Parmenio ſhews, what reward they and myſelf may ex⯑pect for all our ſervices."’ This laſt reproach ſtung Alexander, however he ſtill reſtrained his paſſion, and only commanded him to leave the table. ‘"He is in the right (ſays Clitus as he roſe up) not to bear free-born men at his table, who can only tell him truth. He will do well to paſs his life among barbarians and ſlaves, who will be proud to pay their adora⯑tion to his Perſian girdle and his white robe."’ But now the king, no longer able to ſuppreſs his rage, ſnatched a javelin from one of his guards, and would have killed Clitus on the ſpot, had not the courtiers with-held his arm, and Clitus been forced but with great difficulty out of the hall. However he returned into it that moment by another door, ſinging with an air of inſolence, verſes reflecting highly on the prince, who ſeeing the general near him, ſtruck him with his javelin, and laid him dead at his feet, crying out at the ſame time, go now to Philip, to Parmenio and to Attalus.

The king had no ſooner murthered his faithful ſervant than he perceived the atroci⯑ouſneſs [254] of the act; he threw himſelf upon the dead body, forced out the javelin and would have deſtroyed himſelf had he not been prevent⯑ed by his guards, who ſeized and carried him forcibly to his own apartment, where the flat⯑tery and the perſuaſions of his friends at length ſerved to alleviate his remorſe. In order to di⯑vert his melancholy, Alexander having drawn his army out of the garriſons where they had wintered three months, marched towards a country called Gabana. In his way he met with a dreadful ſtorm, in which his army ſuf⯑fered greatly; from thence he went into the country of Sacae, which he ſoon over-run and laid waſte. Soon after this Axertes one of its monarchs, received him in his palace, which was adorned with barbarous magnificence. He had a daughter called Roxana, a young lady whoſe exquiſite beauty was heightened by all the charms of wit and good ſenſe. Alexander ſound her charms irreſiſtible, and made her his wife; covering his paſſion with the ſpecious pretence of uniting the two nations in ſuch bonds as ſhould improve their mutual har⯑mony, by blending their intereſts, and throw⯑ing down all diſtinctions between the con⯑querors, and the conquered. This marriage diſpleaſed the Macedonians very much, and [255] exaſperated his chief courtiers, when it was ſeen that he made one of his ſlaves his father-in-law. But as, after his murdering Clitus, no one dared to ſpeak to him with freedom, they applauded what he did with their eyes and countenances, for they had nothing elſe left that was free.

Alexander having thus conquered all the Perſian provinces, now with boundleſs ambi⯑tion reſolved upon a perilous march into India. This country was conſidered as the richeſt in the world, not only in gold but in pearls and preci⯑ous ſtones; with which the inhabitants adorned themſelves; but being willing either to impreſs his ſoldiers with an idea of his authority, or to imitate the barbarians in the magnificence of their titles, he was reſolved not only to be called, but to be believed the ſon of Jupiter; as if it had been poſſible for him to command as abſolutely over the mind as over the tongue, and that the Macedonians would condeſcend to fall proſtrate and adore him after the Perſian manner.

To ſooth and cheriſh theſe ridiculous pre⯑tenſions, there were not wanting flatterers, thoſe common peſts of a court, who are more dangerous to princes than the arrows of their enemies. But the Macedonians indeed would [256] not ſtoop to this baſe adulation; all of them to a man, refuſing to vary in any manner, from the cuſtoms of their country. Among the number who diſdained to offer theſe baſe adu⯑lations, was Calliſthenes the philoſopher; but his integrity coſt him his life; he was accuſed of being privy to a conſpiracy formed by Her⯑molaus a young officer, upon the life of the king, and for this reaſon he was thrown into a dungeon and loaded with irons, he ſoon found that he had no mercy to expect; the moſt grievous tortures were inflicted upon him, in order to extort a confeſſion of guilt, but he perſiſted in his innocence to the laſt, and ex⯑pired in the midſt of his torments.

The kingdom of India for which Alexander now ſet out was an extenſive territory, which has been uſually divided into two parts.—India on this ſide and India on the other ſide of the Ganges. All the Indians at that time were free, nor even did they adopt the baſe cuſtom of the Greeks, in purchaſing ſlaves to do the common offices of life. The people of that country were then divided into ſeven claſſes; the firſt and moſt honourable, though the ſmalleſt, were the guardians of religion; the ſecond and the great⯑eſt, was that of the huſbandman, whoſe only employment was to cultivate the ground; the [257] third was that of herdſmen and ſhepherds, who led the herds and flocks among the mountains; the fourth conſiſted of tradeſmen and mer⯑chants, among whom pilots and ſeamen were included; the fifth was of ſoldiers, whoſe only employment was war; the ſixth was of ma⯑giſtrates, who ſuperintended the actions of others, either in cities or in the country, and reported the whole to the king; the ſeventh claſs conſiſted of perſons employed in the pub⯑lick councils, and who ſhared the cares of go⯑vernment with their ſovereign; theſe orders of ſtate never blended nor intermarried with each other, none of theſe were permitted to follow two profeſſions at the ſame time, nor quit one claſs for another.

Alexander having entered India, all the petty kings of the country came to meet him and make their ſubmiſſions. On his march he took the city of Nyſa, he then marched to⯑wards Daedala and diſperſed his army over the whole country, and took poſſeſſion of it without reſiſtance. He afterwards went forward to⯑wards the city of Hagoſa, which after being be⯑ſieged in form, ſurrendered at diſcretion. The rock of Aornos, which was deemed inac⯑ceſſible and which it was ſaid Hercules himſelf was not able to take, but the garriſon in a panic [258] delivered it up to his army. From thence he marched to Acleſlimus, and after a march of ſixteen days, arrived on the banks of the great river Indus, where he found that Hepheſtion had got all things ready for his paſſage, pur⯑ſuant to the orders he had before received. Here he was met by Omphis a king of the country, who did homage to Alexander, and made him a preſent of fifty-ſix elephants, and other animals of prodigious ſize. The ambaſ⯑ſadors from Abiſaries a neighbouring monarch, came with the ſame offers, ſent preſents and promiſed fidelity; there was ſtill a third mo⯑narch whoſe name was Porus, from whom Alexander expected ſimilar ſubmiſſion; he even went to require it of him, but Porus anſwered with great coldneſs; that while he could fight, he ſhould diſdain to obey.

In purſuance of this meſſage Alexander re⯑ſolved to enforce obedience, and giving the ſuperintendance of his elephants to Omphis, who had now changed his name to Taxilus; he advanced as far as the borders of the Hy⯑daſpes. Porus was encamped on the other ſide of it in order to diſpute the paſſage with him, and had poſted at the head of his army eighty-five elephants of a prodigious ſize, and behind them three hundred chariots guarded by [259] thirty thouſand foot; not having at moſt above ſeven thouſand horſe. This prince was mounted upon an elephant of a much larger ſize than any of the reſt; and he himſelf exceeded the uſual ſtature of men; ſo that, clothed in his armour, glittering with gold and ſilver, he appeared at the ſame time terrible and majeſtic. The greatneſs of his courage equalled that of his ſtature; and he was as wiſe and prudent as it was poſſible for the monarch of ſo barbarous a people to be.

The Macedonians dreaded not only the enemy, but the river they were obliged to paſs. It was four furlongs wide (about four hundred fathoms) and ſo deep in every part, that it looked like a ſea, and was no where fordable. It was vaſtly impetuous, notwithſtanding its great breadth; for it rolled with as much vio⯑lence as if it had been confined to a narrow channel; and its raging, foaming waves, which broke in many places, diſcovered that it was full of ſtones and rocks. However, nothing was ſo dreadful as the appearance of the ſhore, which was quite covered with men, horſes and ele⯑phants. Thoſe hideous animals ſtood like ſo many towers; and the Indians exaſperated them, in order that the horrid cry they made might fill the enemy with great terror. However, [258] [...] [259] [...] [260] this could not intimidate an army of men whoſe courage was proof againſt all attacks, and who were animated by an uninterrupted ſeries of proſperities; but then they did not think it would be poſſible for them, as the banks were ſo crazy, to ſurmount the rapidity of the ſtream, or land with ſafety.

Alexander was in great perplexity with the difficulties that attended the paſſage of this nar⯑row river; however, he reſolved to attempt it by night, and choſe one whoſe lightening, thun⯑der, and impetuous winds, conſpired to drown the noiſe of his troops in their embarkation. Scarce any perſon appeared to oppoſe their deſcent; and the moment Alexander was landed, he drew up the forces that had paſſed with him, conſiſting of ſix thouſand foot, and five thou⯑ſand horſe, in order of battle.

Porus, upon hearing that Alexander had paſſed the river, had ſent againſt him a detach⯑ment, commanded by one of his ſons, of two thouſand horſe, and one hundred and twenty chariots. Alexander imagined them at firſt to be the enemy's van-guard, and that the whole army was behind them; but being informed it was but a detachment, he charged them with ſuch vigour, that Porus's ſon was killed upon the ſpot, with four hundred horſes, and all the chariots were taken.

[261] Porus, upon receiving advice of the death of his ſon, the defeat of the detachment, and of Alexander's approach, reſolved to go and meet Alexander, whom he juſtly ſuppoſed to be at the head of the choiceſt troops of his army. Accordingly, leaving only a few elephants in his camp, to amuſe thoſe who were poſted on the oppoſite ſhore, he ſet out, with thirty thou⯑ſand foot, four thouſand horſe, three thouſand chariots, and two hundred elephants. Being come into a firm, ſandy ſoil, in which his horſes and chariots might wheel about with eaſe, he drew up his army in battle-array, with an intent to wait the coming up of the enemy. He poſted in front, and on the firſt line, all the elephants, at a hundred feet diſtance one from the other; in order that they might ſerve as a bulwark to his foot, who were behind. It was his opinion, that the enemy's cavalry would not dare to en⯑gage in theſe intervals, becauſe of the fear thoſe horſes would have of the elephants; and much leſs the infantry, when they ſhould ſee that of the enemy poſted behind the elephants, and in danger of being trod to pieces. He had poſted ſome of his foot on the ſame line with the ele⯑phants, in order to cover their right and left; and this infantry was covered by his two wings of horſe; before which the chariots were poſted. [262] Such was the order and diſpoſition of Porus's army.

Alexander being come in ſight of the enemy, waited the coming up of his foot, which marched with the utmoſt diligence, and arrived a little after; and in order that they might have time to take breath, and not to be led, as they were very much fatigued, againſt the enemy, he cauſed his horſe to make a great many evo⯑lutions, in order to gain time. But now every thing being ready, and the infantry having ſuf⯑ficiently recovered their vigour, Alexander gave the ſignal of battle. He did not think proper to begin by attacking the enemy's main body, where the infantry and the elephants were poſted, for the very reaſon which had made Porus draw them up in that manner. But his cavalry being ſtronger, he drew out the greateſt part of them, and marching againſt the left wing, ſent Coenus, with his own regiment of horſe, and that of Demetrius, to charge them at the ſame time; ordering him to attack that cavalry on the left behind, during which he himſelf would charge them both in front and flank. Seleucus, Antigonus, and Tauron, who commanded the foot, were ordered not to ſtir from their poſts, till Alexander's cavalry had put that of the enemy, as well as their foot, into diſorder.

[263] Being come within arrow-ſhot, he detached a thouſand bow-men on horſeback, with orders for them to make their diſcharge on the horſe of Porus's left wing, in order to throw it into diſorder, whilſt he himſelf would charge this body in flank, before it had time to rally. The Indians having joined again their ſquadrons, and drawn them up into a narrower compaſs, advanced againſt Alexander. At that inſtant Coenus charged them in the rear, according to the orders given him; inſomuch, that the In⯑dians were obliged to face about on all ſides, to defend themſelves from the thouſand bow-men, and againſt Alexander and Coenus. Alexander, to make the beſt advantage of the confuſion into which this ſudden attack had thrown them, charged with great vigour thoſe that had made head againſt him; who being no longer able to ſtand ſo violent an attack, were ſoon broke, and retired behind the elephants, as to an impreg⯑nable rampart. The leaders of the elephants made them advance againſt the enemy's horſe; but, that very inſtant, the Macedonian phalanx moving on a ſudden, ſurrounded thoſe animals, and charged with their pikes the elephants themſelves, and their leaders. This battle was very different from all thoſe which Alexander had hitherto fought; for the elephants ruſhing [264] upon the battalions, broke, with inexpreſſible fury, the thickeſt of them; when the Indian horſe, ſeeing the Macedonian foot ſtopped by the elephants, returned to the charge: however, that of Alexander being ſtronger, and having greater experience in war, broke this body a ſecond time, and obliged it to retire towards the elephants; upon which the Macedonian horſe, being all united in one body, ſpread terror and confuſion wherever they attacked. The elephants, being all covered with wounds, and the greateſt part having loſt their leaders, did not obſerve their uſual order; but, diſtracted as it were with pain, no longer diſtinguiſhed friends from foes; but, running about from place to place, they overthrew every thing that came in their way. The Macedonians, who had pur⯑poſely left a greater interval between their bat⯑talions, either made way for them whenever they came forward, or charged with darts, thoſe that fear and the tumult obliged to retire. Alexander, after having ſurrounded the enemy with his horſe, made a ſignal to his foot to march up with all imaginable ſpeed, in order to make a laſt effort, and to fall upon them with his whole force; all which they executed very ſucceſsfully. In this manner the greateſt part of the Indian cavalry were cut to pieces; and a [265] body of their foot, which ſuſtained no [...]eſs loſs, ſeeing themſelves charged on all ſides, at laſt fled. Catorus, who had continued in the camp with the reſt of his army, ſeeing Alexander en⯑gaged with Porus, croſſed the river, and charging the routed ſoldiers with his troops, who were cool and vigorous, by that means killed as many enemies in the retreat, as had fallen in the battle.

The Indians loſt, on this occaſion, twenty thouſand foot, and three thouſand horſe; not to mention the chariots, which were all broke to pieces; and the elephants, that were either killed or taken. Porus's two ſons fell in this battle; with Spitacus, governor of the province; all the colonels of horſe and foot; and thoſe who guided the elephants and chariots. As for Alexander, he loſt but fourſcore of the ſix thouſand ſoldiers who were at the firſt charge; ten bow-men of the horſe, twenty of his horſe-guards, and two hundred common ſoldiers.

Porus, after having performed all the duty both of a ſoldier and a general in the battle, and fought with incredible bravery, ſeeing all his horſe defeated, and the greateſt part of his foot, did not behave like the great Darius, who, in a like diſaſter, was the firſt that fled: on the con⯑trary, he continued in the field as long as one [266] battalion or ſquadron ſtood their ground; but, at laſt, having received a wound in the ſhoulder, he retired upon his elephant; and was eaſily diſtinguiſhed from the reſt, by the greatneſs of his ſtature, and his unparelleled bravery. Alex⯑ander finding who he was, by thoſe glorious marks, and being deſirous of ſaving this king, ſent Taxilus after him, becauſe he was of the ſame nation. The latter, advancing as near to him as he might, without running any danger of being wounded, called out to him to ſtop, in order to hear the meſſage he had brought him from Alexander. Porus turning back, and ſeeing it was Taxilus, his old enemy, ‘"How!" ſays he, "is it not Taxilus that calls; that traitor to his country and kingdom!"’ Im⯑mediately after which, he would have transfixed him with his dart, had he not inſtantly retired. Notwithſtanding this, Alexander was ſtill de⯑ſirous to ſave ſo brave a prince; and thereupon diſpatched other officers, among whom was Meroe, one of his intimate friends, who beſought him, in the ſtrongeſt terms, to wait upon a con⯑queror altogether worthy of him: after much entreaty, Porus conſented, and accordingly ſet forward. Alexander, who had been told of his coming, advanced forwards, in order to receive him, with ſome of his train. Being come pretty [267] near, Alexander ſtopped, purpoſely to take a view of his ſtature and noble mien, he being about five cubits in height. Porus did not ſeem dejected at his misfortune; but came up with a reſolute countenance, like a valiant warrior, whoſe courage in defending his dominions ought to acquire him the eſteem of the brave prince who had taken him priſoner. Alexander ſpoke firſt; and, with an auguſt and gracious air, aſked him how he deſired to be treated? ‘"Like a king," replied Porus.’ ‘"But," continued Alexander, "do you aſk nothing more?"’ ‘"No," replied Porus; "all things are included in that ſingle word."’ Alexander, ſtruck with this greatneſs of ſoul, the magnanimity of which ſeemed heightened by diſtreſs, did not only reſtore him his kingdom, but annexed other provinces to it, and treated him with the higheſt teſtimonies of honour, eſteem, and friendſhip. Porus was faithful to him till his death.—It is hard to ſay, whether the victor or the van⯑quiſhed beſt deſerved praiſe on this occaſion.

Alexander built a city on the ſpot where the battle had been fought; and another in that place where he had croſſed the river. He called the one Nicaea, from his victory; and the other Bucephalus, in honour of his horſe, who died there, not of his wounds, but of old age. After [268] having paid the laſt duties to ſuch of his ſol⯑diers as had loſt their lives in battle, he ſolem⯑niſed games and offered up ſacrifices of thanks in the place where he had paſſed the Hydeſpes.

Alexander having now conquered Porus, advanced into India, which having never been a warlike nation, he ſubdued with the rapidity rather of a traveller than a conqueror. Num⯑berleſs petty ſtates ſubmitted to him, ſenſible that his ſtay would be ſhort, and his conqueſts evaneſcent.

Alexander, paſſing near a city where ſeveral Brachmans or Indian prieſts dwelt, was very deſirous to converſe with them, and if poſſible to prevail with ſome of them to follow him. Being informed that theſe philoſophers never made viſits, but that thoſe who had an inclina⯑tion to ſee them muſt go to their houſes, he concluded, that it would be beneath his dig⯑nity to go to them; and not juſt to force theſe ſages to any thing contrary to their laws and uſages. Oneſicritus, the philoſopher, who had been a diſciple of Diogenes the Cynick, was de⯑puted to them. He met not far from the city fifteen Boxamins, who from morning till even⯑ing ſtood always naked, in the ſame poſture in which they at firſt had placed themſelves, and [269] afterwards returned to the city at night. He addreſſed himſelf firſt to Calanus an Indian, re⯑puted the wiſeſt man of his country, who, though he profeſſed the practice of the moſt ſevere philoſophy, had however been perſuaded in his extreme old age to attend upon the court; and him he told the occaſion of his coming. The later gazing upon Oneſicritus's clothes and ſhoes, could not forbear laughing; after which he told him, ‘"That anciently the earth had been covered with barley and wheat, as it was at that time with duſt, that beſides water, the rivers uſed to flow with milk, ho⯑ney, oil and wine."’ That man's guilt had occaſioned a change of this happy condition; and that Jupiter, to puniſh their ingratitude, had ſentenced them to a long painful labour. That their repentance afterwards moving him to compaſſion, he had reſtored them their for⯑mer abundance; however, that by the courſe of things, they ſeemed to be returning to their ancient confuſion. This relation ſhews evi⯑dently, that theſe philoſophers, had ſome no⯑tion of the felicity of the firſt man and of the evil to which he had been ſentenced for his ſins.

Oneſicritus was very urgent with both of them to quit their auſtere way of life and fol⯑low [270] the fortune of Alexander, ſaying, ‘"That they would find in him a generous maſter and benefactor, who would heap upon them honour and riches of all kinds."’ Then Mandanis aſſuming a haughty philoſophical tone, anſwered, ‘"That he did not want Alex⯑ander, and was the ſon of Jupiter as well as himſelf. That he was exempted from want, deſire or fear. That ſo long as he ſhould live, the earth would furniſh him with all things neceſſary for his ſubſiſtence, and that death would rid him of a troubleſome com⯑panion (meaning his body) and ſet him at full liberty."’ Calodanus appeared more tractable, and notwithſtanding the oppoſition, and even the prohibition of his ſuperior, who reproached him for his abject ſpirit in ſtooping ſo low as to ſerve another maſter beſides God, he followed Oneſicritus, and went to Alexan⯑der's court, who received him with great de⯑monſtrations of joy. As it was Alexander's chief ambition to imitate Bacchus and Her⯑cules in their expeditions into the Eaſt, he re⯑ſolved like them to penetrate as long as he could meet new nations to conquer, however his ſoldiers ſatiated with ſpoil and fatigued with repeated encounters, at laſt began to open their eyes at the wildneſs of his ambition. [271] Some bewailed their calamities in ſuch terms as raiſed compaſſion, others inſolently cried out, ‘"That they would march no further;"’ the chief object of the King's wiſhes, was to invade the territories of Agramenes, a prince who lived beyond the great river Ganges; and who was able to bring into the field two hundred thou⯑ſand foot, two thouſand elephants, twenty thou⯑ſand horſe, and two thouſand armed chariots. The ſoldiers however refuſed to wander over thoſe great deſerts that lay beyond the Ganges, and more terrible to them than the greateſt ar⯑my the Eaſt could muſter; he addreſſed them in the moſt perſuaſive terms not to leave their general behind; he threatened them, that he would take his Scythian and his Perſian ſoldiers, and with them alone he would make conqueſts worthy of his name and of his glory; but ſtill the Macedonian ſoldiers, perſiſted ſullen and inflexible, and only at laſt complied after many perſuaſive orations to follow him towards the South, to diſcover the neareſt ocean, and to take the courſe of the river Indus as their in⯑fallible guide.

For this expedition he embarked in a fleet conſiſting of eight hundred veſſels as well gal⯑lies as boats, to carry the troops and proviſions, after five days ſailing, the fleet arrived where [272] the Hydeſpes and the Aceſines mixed their ſtreams, there the ſhips were very much ſhat⯑tered, becauſe theſe rivers unite with prodigi⯑ous rapidity. At laſt he came to the country of the Oxydrace and the Mallis, the moſt va⯑liant people in the Eaſt, however Alexander defeated them in ſeveral engagements, diſpoſ⯑ſeſſed them of their ſtrong holds, and at laſt marched againſt their capital city, where the greateſt part of their forces were retired. It was upon this occaſion that ſeizing a ſcaling ladder, himſelf the firſt, he mounted the wall, followed only by two of his officers; his at⯑tendants believing him to be in danger, mount⯑ed ſwiftly to ſuccour him, but the ladder break⯑ing, he was left alone. It was now that his raſhneſs became his ſafety, for leaping from the wall into the city which was crouded with enemies, ſword in hand, he repulſed ſuch as were neareſt, and even killed the general who advanced in the throng. Thus with his back to a tree that happened to be near, he received all the darts of the enemy in a ſhield, and kept even the boldeſt at a diſtance at laſt an Indian diſcharging an arrow of three feet long, it pierced his coat of mail and his right breaſt, and ſo great a quantity of blood iſſued from the wound, that he dropped his [273] arms and lay as dead. The Indian came to ſtrip him, ſuppoſing him really what he ap⯑peared; but Alexander that inſtant recalled his ſpirits and plunged the dagger in his ſide. By this time a part of the king's attendants came to his ſuccour, and forming themſelves round his body, till his ſoldiers without found means of burſting the gates, ſaved him, and put all the inhabitants without diſtinction to the ſword.

The wound which at firſt ſeemed dangerous, having in the ſpace of ſix or ſeven days a moſt favourable appearance, Alexander mounted his horſe, and ſhewed himſelf to the army, who ſeem⯑ed to view him with inſatiable pleaſure. Thus continuing his voyage, and ſubduing the country on each ſide as he paſſed along, the pilots per⯑ceived from the ſoftneſs of the breezes that the ocean was near. Nothing ſo much aſtoniſhed the Macedonian ſoldiers as the ebbing and flowing of the tide. They were amazed when they ſaw it riſe to a great height and overflow the country, which they conſidered as a mark of divine reſentment; they were no leſs terrified ſome hours after, when they ſaw the river for⯑ſake its banks, and leave thoſe lands uncovered it had ſo lately overflowed. Thus, after a voy⯑age of nine months, he at laſt ſtood upon the ſhore; and after having offered ſacrifices to [274] Neptune, and having looked wiſhfully on the broad expanſe of waters before him, he is ſaid to have wept for having no more worlds left to conquer. Here he put an end to his excur⯑ſions; and having appointed Nearchus admiral of his fleet, with orders to coaſt along the In⯑dian ſhore as far as the Perſian gulph, he ſet out with his army for Babylon.

Nothing could exceed the hardſhips which his army ſuſtained in their return: paſſing through a country deſtitute of all ſorts of pro⯑viſions, they were obliged to feaſt on the beaſts of burden, and were forced to burn thoſe rich ſpoils for the ſake of which they had encoun⯑tered ſo many dangers; thoſe diſeaſes alſo, that generally accompany famine, compleated their calamity, and deſtroyed them in great numbers. After a march of threeſcore days, they arrived in the province of Gedroſia, the fertility of which ſoon baniſhed from the minds of the ſoldiery all their former difficulties. Alexander paſſed through the country, not with the mili⯑tary pomp of a conqueror, but in the licen⯑tious diſguiſe of an enthuſiaſt: ſtill willing to imitate Bacchus, he was drawn by eight horſes, on a ſcaffold in the form of a ſquare ſtage, where he paſſed the days and nights in feaſting. Along the roads where he paſſed were placed [275] caſks of wine in great abundance, and theſe the ſoldiery drained in honour of his mock deity. The whole country echoed with the ſound of inſtruments and the howling of bach⯑anals, who with their hair diſhevelled, with frantic mirth, ran up and down, abandoning themſelves to every kind of lewdneſs. This vice produced one of a much more formidable nature in the king's mind; for it always en⯑flamed his paſſions to cruelty, and the execu⯑tioner generally followed the feaſt.

While he refreſhed his army in theſe parts, Nearchus was returned from his expedition along the coaſt, and brought him ſtrange ac⯑counts of the gold to be found in ſome iſlands, and of the wonders that were to be ſeen in others; he was therefore commanded to make ſome further diſcoveries; and then enter the mouth of the river Euphrates, to meet the king at Babylon. He here alſo executed an act of rigorous juſtice upon Cleander and others, who had formerly been the miniſters of his ven⯑geance in cutting off Parmenio. Againſt theſe murtherers great complaints had been made by the deputies of the provinces in which they had commanded; and ſuch was the complexion of their crimes, that nothing but the certain expectation of Alexander's never returning from [276] India, could encourage them to commit ſuch. All men were glad to ſee them delivered over to juſtice. Cleander, with ſix hundred ſoldiers, whom he had employed, were publickly ex⯑ecuted; every one rejoicing, that the anger of the king was at laſt turned againſt the mini⯑ſters of his vengeance. As Alexander drew near⯑er to Babylon, he viſited the tomb of Cyrus, in the city of Paſargada; and here he put a Perſian prince, whoſe name was Orſines, to death, at the inſtigation of Bagoas, an eunuch, who falſely accuſed Orſines of robbing the tomb; here alſo, Calanus, the Indian, having lived four-ſcore and three years, without ever having been afflicted with ſickneſs, now feeling the approaches of diſorder, reſolved to put himſelf to death. Alexander imagined he might eaſily be diſſuaded from his deſign; but finding, in oppoſition to all the arguments he could uſe, that Calanus was inflexible, he gave orders for erecting a funeral pile for him, upon which the Indian was reſolved to die.

Calanus rode on horſeback to the foot of the funeral pile; offered up his prayers to the gods; cauſed libations to be performed, and the reſt of the ceremonies to be obſerved which are practiſed at funerals; cut off a tuft of his hair, in imitation of victims; embraced ſuch [277] of his friends as were preſent; intreated them to be merry that day, and to feaſt and carouſe with Alexander; aſſuring them, at the ſame time, that he would ſoon ſee that prince in Babylon. After ſaying theſe words, he aſcend⯑ed, with the utmoſt chearfulneſs, the fu⯑neeral pile, laid himſelf down upon it, and covered his face; and, when the flame reached him, he did not make the leaſt motion; but with a patience and conſtancy that ſurpriſed the whole army, continued in the ſame poſture in which he at firſt had laid himſelf, and com⯑pleated his ſacrifice, by dying agreeably to the ſtrange ſuperſtitions of the enthuſiaſts of his country. Alexander punctually obeyed him in his admonitions to debauchery. A banquet followed the night after, in which Promacus received a talent as a prize, for having drank the largeſt quantity of wine; he ſurvived his victory, however, but three days, and of the reſt of the gueſts, forty-one died of their intem⯑perance. From Paſargada, Alexander proceed⯑ed to Suſa, where he married Statira, the eldeſt daughter of Darius, and gave her youngeſt ſiſter in marriage to his favourite Hepheſtion. Fourſcore Perſian ladies of rank were given to the principal favourites among his captains. The nuptials were ſolemnized after the Perſian [278] manner. He likewiſe feaſted all the Mace⯑donians, who had married before in that country. It is related, that there were nine thouſand gueſts at this feaſt, and that he gave each of them a golden cup for their libations. Upon this occaſion, there appeared at Suſa, three hundred young ſoldiers, dreſſed in the Macedonian manner, whom Alexander intend⯑ed particularly to favour, in order to check the licentiouſneſs of his veterans, who had but too juſt reaſons to murmur.

While Alexander was thus employed in Perſia, a new commotion was carrying on in Greece. Harpalus, whom Alexander had appointed go⯑vernor of Babylon, being diſguſted with his maſ⯑ter's cruelty, and ambitious of power himſelf, went over into Greece, with immenſe ſums, which he raiſed from the plundered priſoners of Perſia. He had credit enough to aſſemble a body of ſix thouſand ſoldiers, and with theſe he landed at Athens: money, at that time, being thought all-powerful in Greece, he laviſhed immenſe ſums among the mercenary orators, whoſe buſineſs it was to inflame the minds of the people. Of all theſe, Phocion alone, to whom he offered ſe⯑ven hundred talents, preſerved his well-known integrity, and remained inflexible; his diſ⯑intereſtedneſs had long been the object of ad⯑miration, [279] even in the time of Philip. Being offered a great ſum of money, if not for his own acceptance, at leaſt for the benefit of his children: If my children, cried Phocion, re⯑ſemble me, the little ſpot of ground, with the produce of which I have hitherto lived, and which has raiſed me to the glory you mention, will be ſufficient to maintain them; if it will not, I do not intend to leave them wealth, merely to ſtimulate and heighten their luxury. Alexander having likewiſe ſent him an hundred talents, Phocion aſked thoſe who brought them, why Alexander ſent him ſo great a ſum, and did not remit any to the reſt of the Athenians? It is, replied they, becauſe Alexander looks upon you as the only juſt and virtuous man. Phocion re⯑joined, let him ſuffer me ſtill to enjoy that character, and be really what I am taken for. This, therefore, was not a character to be corrupted; on the contrary, he uſed all his influence to prevent the ſucceſs of Harpalus, who being ordered by the aſſembly to depart the city, loſt all hopes of ſucceſs.

This commotion was ſcarcely quelled when another enſued, in conſequence of a declaration, by which all the Macedonians, who from their age or infirmities were unable to bear the fa⯑tigues [280] of war, ſhould be ſent back to Greece. They with ſeditious cries unanimouſly demanded to be entirely diſcharged from his ſervice, mur⯑muring againſt him as a deſpiſer of his braveſt troops, and as a cruel king, who wanted not their abſence but their deſtruction. Alexander, however, acted with that reſolution upon this occaſion, which always marked his character. Being ſeated on his tribunal of juſtice, he ruſhed among the principal mutineers, ſeized thirteen, and ordered them to be immediately puniſhed. The ſoldiers, amazed at his intrepidity, with⯑held their complaints, and with down-caſt eyes ſeemed to beg for mercy. You deſired a diſ⯑charge, cried he: go then, and publiſh to the world that you have left your prince to the mercy of ſtrangers; from henceforth, the Perſians ſhall be my guards. This menace ſerved only to increaſe the miſery and the con⯑ſternation of his troops; they attended him with tears and lamentations, till at laſt, ſoftened by their penitence, he once more took them into favour and affection.

Now ſecure from inſurrection, he gave him⯑ſelf up to mirth and feaſting; his army was ſol⯑lowed by all the miniſters of pleaſure; he ſpent whole nights and days in immoderate drinking, and in one of thoſe exceſſes, Hepheſtion loſt [281] his life. This courtier was the moſt intimate friend of Alexander. Craterus alone, of all the Macedonians ſeemed to diſpute this honour with him. Craterus, as the king uſed to ſay, loves the king, but Hepheſtion loves Alex⯑ander. The death of this favourite threw the monarch into exceſſive ſorrow; he ſeemed to receive no conſolation; he even put to death the phyſician who attended him, and the extra⯑ordinary funeral honours celebrated at his ar⯑rival in Babylon, marked the greatneſs of his affliction.

After various combats, conqueſts, cruelties, follies, and exceſſes, Alexander arrived at Ba⯑bylon; the Chaldeans, who pretended to fore⯑ſee future events, attempted to perſuade him not to enter that city. The Greek philoſophers on the other hand, diſplayed the futility of their predictions. Babylon was a theatre for him to diſplay his glory in; and ambaſſadors from all the nations he had conquered were there in rea⯑dineſs to celebrate his triumphs. After mak⯑ing a moſt magnificent entry, he gave audience to the ambaſſadors, with a grandeur and dig⯑nity ſuitable to his power, yet with the affabi⯑lity and politeneſs of a private courtier.

At that time he wrote a letter, which was to have been read publickly in the aſſembly at [282] the Olympic-games, whereby the ſeveral cities of Greece were commanded to permit all ex⯑iles to return into their native country, thoſe excepted, who had committed ſacrilege, or any other crime deſerving death; ordering An⯑tipater to employ an armed force againſt ſuch cities as ſhould refuſe to obey. This letter was read in the aſſembly. But the Athenians and Etolians did not think themſelves obliged to put orders in execution which ſeemed to inter⯑fere with their liberty.

Finding Babylon, in extent and conveniency, ſuperior to all the other cities of the Eaſt, he reſolved to make it the ſeat of his empire; and for that purpoſe was deſirous of adding to it all the ornaments poſſible. But though he was much employed in projects of this kind, and in ſchemes even beyond human power to ex⯑ecute, he ſpent the greateſt part of his time in ſuch pleaſures as this magnificent city afforded. He was often preſent at new banquets, where he drank with his uſual intemperance. On a particular occaſion, having ſpent the whole night in a debauch, a ſecond was propoſed: he accepted the invitation, and drank to ſuch exceſs, that, he fell upon the floor, dead to appearance; and in this lifeleſs man⯑ner was carried, a ſad ſpectacle of debauchery, [283] to his palace. The fever continued, with ſome intervals, in which he gave the neceſſary orders for the ſailing of the fleet, and the marching of his land forces, being perſuaded he ſhould ſoon recover. But at laſt finding himſelf paſt all hopes, and his voice beginning to fail, he gave his ring to Perdiccas, with orders to convey his corpſe to the temple of Ammon. He ſtruggled however with death for ſome time, and raiſing himſelf upon his elbow, he gave his hand to the ſoldiers, who preſſed to kiſs it; being then aſked to whom he would leave his empire, he anſwer⯑ed, To the moſt worthy. Perdiccas enquiring at what time he ſhould pay him divine honours, he replied, When you are happy. With theſe words he expired, being thirty-two years and eight months old, of which he had reigned twelve, with more fortune than virtue.

In whatever light we view this monarch, we ſhall have little to admire, and leſs to imitate. That courage for which he was celebrated, is but a ſubordinate virtue; that fortune which ſtill attended him, was but an accidental ad⯑vantage; that diſcipline which prevailed in his army, was produced and cultivated by his father; but his intemperance, his cruelty, his vanity, his paſſion for uſeleſs conqueſts, were all his own. His victories however, ſerved to [284] crown the pyramid of Grecian glory; they ſerved to ſhew, to what a degree the arts of peace can promote thoſe of war. In this pic⯑ture, we view a combination of petty ſtates by the arts of refinement, growing more than a match for the reſt of the world united; and leaving mankind an example of ſuperiority of intellect over brutal force. After the death of this monarch, Greece was rather conſidered as a ſeminary for the education and promotion of the laws of other nations, than a confederacy for enforcing and promulgating her own. The ſucceſſors of Alexander ſeized upon particular parts of his extenſive empire; and what he gained with much fatigue and danger, became a prey to men who ſheltered their ambition under the ſanction and glory of his name. They had been taught by him a leſſon of pride; and as he would never ſuffer an equal, his numerous ſucceſſors could not think of admitting a ſuperior. They continued their diſputes for dominion until in ſome meaſure they deſtroyed each other; and as no governments were ever worſe conducted than their's, ſo no period of hiſtory was ever left in ſuch darkneſs, doubt, and confuſion.