the fort where she had caused herself to be shut up. Cleopatra would not permit the gates to be opened to give him entrance, for fear of some surprise; but she appeared at a high window, from whence she threw down chains and cords. Antony was made fast to these, and Cleopatra, assisted by two women, who were the only persons she had brought with her into the tomb, drew him up. Never was there a more moving sight. Antony, all bathed in his blood, with death depicted in his face, was drawn up, turning his dying eyes, and extending his feeble hands toward Cleopatra, as if to conjure her to receive his last breath; while she, with her features distorted, and her arms strained, pulled the cords with her whole strength; the people below, who could give no further aid, encouraging her with their cries. When she had drawn him up to her, and had laid him on a bed, she tore off her clothes, beat her breast violently, and, after wiping the blood from his wound, with her face close to his, she called him her prince, her lord, her dearest spouse. While she made these mournful exclamations, she cut off Antony's hair, according to the superstition of the pagans, who believed that a relief to those who died a violent death. Antony, recovering his senses, and seeing Cleopatra's affliction, said to her, to comfort her, that he thought himself happy, as he died in her arms; and that, as to his defeat, he was not ashamed of it, it being no disgrace for a Roman to be overcome by Romans. He afterwards advised her to save her life and kingdom, provided she could do so with honour; to be upon her guard against the traitors of her own court, as well as the Romans in Cæsar's train, and to trust only Proculeius. He expired with these words. The same moment Proculeius arrived from Cæsar, who could not refrain from tears at the sad relation of what had passed, and at the sight of the sword still reeking with Antony's blood, which was presented to him. He had particular orders to get Cleopatra into his hands, and to take her alive if possible. That princess refused to surrender herself to him. She had, however, a conversation with him, without letting him enter the tomb. He only came close to the gates, which were well fastened, but gave passage for the voice through crevices. They talked a considerable time together; during which she continually asked the kingdom for her children; while he exhorted her to hope the best, and pressed her to confide all her interest to Cæsar. After having considered the place well, he went to make his report to Cæsar, who immediately sent Gallus to speak again with her. Gallus went to the gates, as Proculeius had done, and spoke like him, through the crevices, protracting the conversation on purpose. In the mean while, Proculeius brought a ladder to the wall, entered the tomb by the same window through which she and her women had drawn up Antony, and, followed by two officers who were with him, went down to the gate where she was speaking to Gallus. One of the two women who were shut up with her, seeing him come, cried out, quite out of her senses with fear and surprise, "O, unfortunate Cleopatra, you are taken!" Cleopatra turned her head, saw Proculeius, and would have stabbed herself with a dagger, which she always carried at her girdle; but Proculeius ran quickly to her, took her in his arms, and said to her, "You wrong yourself and Cæsar too, in depriving him of so grateful an occasion of showing his goodness and clemency. At the same time he forced the dagger out of her hands, and shook her robes, lest she should have concealed poison in them. Cæsar sent one of his freedmen, named Epaphroditus, with orders to guard her carefully, to prevent her making any attempt on herself, and to behave to her, at the same time, with all the regard and complacency she could desire; he likewise instructed Proculeius to ask the queen what she desired of him. Cæsar afterwards prepared to enter Alexandria, the conquest of which there were no longer any to dispute with him. He found the gates of it open, and all the inhabitants in extreme consternation, not knowing what they had to hope or fear. He entered the city, conversing with the philosopher Ariæus, upon whom he leaned with an air of familiarity, to signify publicly the regard he had for him. Having arrived at the palace, he ascended a tribunal, which he ordered to be erected there; and seeing the whole people prostrate upon the ground, he commanded them to rise. He then told them, that he pardoned them, for three reasons; the first upon the account of Alexander their founder; the second, for the beauty of their city; the third, for the sake of Ariæus, one of their citizens, whose merit and knowledge he esteemed. Proculeius, in the mean time, acquitted himself of his commission to the queen, who at first asked nothing of Cæsar, but his permission to bury Antony, which was granted without difficulty. She spared no cost to render his interment magnificent, according to the custom of Egypt. She caused his body to be embalmed with the most exquisite perfumes of the east, and placed it among the tombs of the kings of Egypt. Cæsar did not think proper to see Cleopatra in the first days of her mourn. ing; but when he believed he might do it with decency, he was introduced into her chamber, after having asked her permission, being desirous to conceal his designs under the regard he professed for her. She was laid upon a little bed, in a very simple and neglected manner. When he entered her chamber, though she had nothing on but a single tunic, she rose immediately, and went to throw herself at his feet, horribly disfigured, her hair loose and disordered, her visage wild and haggard, her voice faultering, her eyes almost dissolved by excessive weeping, and her bosom covered with wounds and bruises. That natural grace and lofty mien, which she derived from her beauty, were, however, not wholly extinct; and notwithstanding the deplorable condition to which she was reduced, even through the depth of grief and dejection, as from a dark cloud, shot forth graces, and a kind of radiance, which brightened in her looks, and in every motion of her countenance. Though she was almost dying, she did not despair of inspiring that young victor with love, as she had formerly done Cæsar and Antony. " 66 The chamber where she received him was full of the portraits of Julius Cæsar. My lord," said she to him, pointing to those pictures, "behold those images of him who adopted you his successor in the Roman empire, and to whom I was obliged for my crown." Then taking letters out of her bosom, which she had concealed in it; see also," said she, kissing them, "the dear testimonies of his love." She afterwards read some of the most tender of them, commenting upon them, at proper intervals, with moving acclamations, and passionate glances; but she employed these arts with no success; for whether her charms had no longer the power they had in her youth, or that ambition was Cæsar's ruling passion, he did not seem affected with either her person or conversation; contenting himself with exhorting her to take courage, and with assuring her of his good intentions. She was far from not discerning that coldness, from which she conceived no good augury; but dissembling her concern, and changing the discourse, she thanked him for the compliments Proculeius had made her in his name, and which he had thought fit to repeat in person. She added, that in return she would deliver to him all the treasures of the kings of Egypt. And in fact she put an inventory into his hands of all her moveables, jewels and revenues. And as Seleucus, one of her treasurers, who was present, reproached her with not declaring the whole, and with having concealed part of her most valuable effects; incensed at so great an insult, she rose up, ran to him, and gave him several blows on the face. Then turning toward Cæsar," Is it not a horrible thing," said she to him, " that when you have not disdained to visit me, and have thought fit to console me in the sad condition I now am in, my own domestics should accuse me before you, of retaining some women's jewels, not to adorn a miserable person as I am, but for a present to your sister Octavia, and your wife Livia; that their protection may induce you to afford a more favourable treatment to an unfortunate princess?" Cæsar was exceedingly pleased to hear her talk in that manner, not doubting but the love of life inspired her with such language. He told her, she might dispose as she pleased of the jewels she had reserved; and after having assured her that he would treat her with more generosity and magnificence than she could imagine, he withdrew, imagining that he had deceived her, but was deceived himself. Not doubting that Cæsar intended to make her serve as an ornament to his triumph, she had no other thoughts than to avoid that shame by dying. She well knew that she was observed by the guards who had been assigned her, and, under pretence of doing her honour, followed her every where; and besides, that her time was short, Cæsar's departure approaching. The better, therefore, to amuse him, she sent to desire that she might go to pay her last duty at the tomb of Antony, and take her leave of him. Cæsar having granted her that permission, she went thither accordingly to bathe that tomb with her tears, and to assure Antony, to whom she addressed her discourse as if he had been present before her eyes, that she would soon give him a more certain proof of her affection. After that fatal protestation, which she accompanied with sighs and lamentations, she caused the tomb to be covered with flowers, and returned to her chamber. She then went into a bath, and from the bath to a table, having ordered it to be served magnificently. When she rose from table, she wrote a letter to Cæsar; and having made all quit her chamber, except her two women, she shut the door, sat down upon a bed, and asked for a basket of figs, which a peasant had lately brought. She placed it by her, and a moment after lay down, as if she had fallen asleep; but that was the effect of the aspic, which was concealed among the fruit, and had stung her in the arm which she held to it. The poison immediately communicated itself to the heart, and killed her without pain, or being perceived by any body. The guards had orders to let nothing pass without a strict search into it; but the disguised peasant, who was one of the queen's faithful servants, played his part so well, and there was so little appearance of design in a basket of figs, that the guards suffered him to enter. Thus all Cæsar's precautions were ineffectual. He did not doubt Cleopatra's resolution, after having read the letter she had written to him, to desire that he would suffer her body to be laid in the same tomb with that of Antony, and instantly despatched two officers to prevent it. But nothstanding all the haste they could make, they found her dead. That princess was too haughty, and too much above the vulgar, to suffer herself to be led in triumph at the wheels of the victor's chariot. Determined to die, and thence become capable of the fiercest resolutions, she saw with firmness and indifference the mortal venom of the aspic glide into her veins.† She died at thirty-nine years of age, of which she had reigned twenty-two, from the death of her father. The statues of Antony were thrown down, but those of Cleopatra remained as they were, Archibius, who had long been in her service, having given Cæsar one thousand talents, that they might not be treated as Antony's had been. After Cleopatra's death, Egypt was reduced to a province of the Roman empire, and governed by a præfect sent thither from Rome. The reign of the *Ausa et jacentem visere regiam Tractare serpentes, ut atrum Corpore combiberet venenum. t Deliberata morte ferocior: Privata deduci superbo, Non humilis mulier triumpho. Hor. Od. xxxvii. 1. 1. Not the dark palace of the realms below Can awe the furious purpose of her soul; Provokes the serpent's sting, his rage disdains, But fiercely flies to death, and bids her sorrows end. Ptolemies in Egypt, to date its commencement from the death of Alexander the Great, had continued two hundred and ninety-three years, from the year of the world 3631 to 3974. CONCLUSION OF THE ANCIENT HISTORY. We have seen hitherto, without speaking of the first and ancient kingdom of Egypt, and of some states separate, and in a manner entirely distinct from the rest, three great successive empires, founded on the ruin of each other, continue during a long series of ages, and at length entirely disappear; the empire of the Babylonians, the empire of the Medes and Persians, and the empire of the Macedonians and the Grecian princes, successors of Alexander the Great. A fourth empire arises, that of the Romans, which having already swallowed up most of those which have preceded it, will extend its conquests, and after having subjected all to its power by force of arms, be itself torn in a manner into different pieces, and by being so dismembered, make way for the establishment of almost all the kingdoms which now divide Europe, Asia, and Africa. We may here behold a picture of all ages; of the glory and power of all the empires of the world; in a word, of all that is splendid or admirable in human greatness! Every excellence is here presented, sublimity of genius, delicacy of taste, accompanied by solidity of judgment; the noblest efforts of eloquence, carried to the highest degree of perfection, without departing from nature and truth; the glory of arms, with that of arts and sciences; valour in conquering, and ability in government. What a multitude of great men of every kind does it not present to our view! What powerful, what glorious kings! What great captains! What famous conquerors! What wise magistrates! What learned philosophers! What admirable legislators! We are transported with beholding in certain ages and countries, as if peculiar to themselves, an ardent zeal for justice, a passionate love of country, a noble disinterestedness, a generous contempt of riches, and an esteem for poverty, which astonish and amaze us, so much do they appear above human nature. In this manner we think and judge. But while we are in admiration and ecstasy at the view of so many splendid virtues, the Supreme Judge, who alone can estimate all things, sees nothing in them but trifles, meanness, vanity, and pride; and while mankind are continually busied in perpetuating the power of their families, in founding kingdoms and eternizing themselves, if that were possible, God, from his throne on high, overthrows all their projects, and makes even their ambition the means of executing his purposes, infinitely superior to our understandings. He alone knows his operations and designs. All ages are present to him: He seeth from everlasting to everlasting." He has assigned all empires their fate and duration. In all the different revolutions, we have seen that nothing has come to pass by chance. We know, that under the image of that statue which Nabuchodonosor saw, of an enormous height and terrible countenance, with the head of gold, the breasts and arms of silver, the belly and thighs of brass, and the legs of iron mixed with clay, God thought fit to represent the four great empires, uniting in them, as we have seen in the course of this history, all that is glorious, grand, formidable, and powerful. And what means does the Almighty use for overthrowing this immense Colossus? "A small stone was cut out without hands, which smote the image upon his feet that were of iron and clay, and brake them to pieces. Then was the iron, the clay the brass, the silver, and the gold, broken to pieces together, and became like the chaff of the summer thrashing floors, and the wind carried them away, that no place was found for them; and the stone that smote the image became a great mountain, and filled the whole earth."t We see with our own eyes the accomplishment of this admirable prophecy of Daniel, at least in part. Jesus Christ who descended to clothe himself with Eccles. xxxix. 19. ↑ Dan. ii. 34. 35. flesh and blood in the sacred womb of the blessed virgin, without the participation of man, is the small stone that came from the mountain without human aid. The prevailing characteristics of his person, of his relations, his appearance, his manner of teaching, his disciples, in a word, of every thing that relates to him, were simplicity, poverty, and humility; which were so extreme, that they concealed from the eyes of the proud Jews the divine lustre of his miracles, however effulgent, and from the sight of the devil himself, penetrating and attentive as he was, the evident proofs of his divinity. Notwithstanding that seeming weakness, and even meanness, Jesus Christ will certainly conquer the whole universe. It is under this idea a prophet represents him to us : "He went forth conquering and to conquer. "His work and mission are," to set up a kingdom for his Father, which shall never be destroyed; and the kingdom which shall not be left to other people ;" like those which we have seen in this history; but it shall break in pieces, and consume all these kingdoms; and it shall stand for ever." The power granted to Jesus Christ, the founder of this empire, is without bounds, measure, or end. The kings, who glory so much in their power, have nothing which approaches in the least to that of Jesus Christ. They do not reign over the will of man, which is real dominion. Their subjects can think as they please independently of them. There are an infinitude of particular actions done without their order, and which escape their knowledge as well as their power. Their designs often miscarry, and come to nothing even during their own lives. But with Jesus Christ it is quite otherwise. All power is given unto him in heaven and in earth." He exercises it principally upon the hearts and minds of men. Nothing is done without his order or permission, Every thing is disposed by his wisdom and power. Every thing co-operates directly or indirectly to the accomplishment of his designs. While all things are in motion and fluctuate upon earth; while states and empires pass away with incredible rapidity, and the human race, vainly employed in the external view of these things, are also drawn in by the same torrent, almost without perceiving it; there passes, in secret, an order and disposition of things unknown and invisible, which however determine our fate to all eternity. The duration of ages has no other end than the formation of the bodies of the elect, which augments, and tends daily toward perfection. When it shall receive its final accomplishment by the death of the last of the elect; "Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule, and all authority, and power.t * Apoc. vi. 2. Matth. xxviii. 18. 1 Cor. xv. 24. THE END. |