Being arrived at the palace, he ascended a tribunal, which he or dered 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; and the third, for the sake of Arius, one of their citizens, whose merit and knowledge he esteemed.

Proculeius, in the meantime, acquitted himself of his commission to the queen, who au first asked nothing of Cæsar but his permission to bury Antony, which was granted her 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 amongst the tombs of the kings of Egypt.

Cæsar did not think proper to see Cleopatra in the first days of her mourning: 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 faltering, her eyes almost dissolved by excessive weeping, and her bosom covered with wounds and bruises. That natural grace and lofty inien which were inspired by her beauty, were, however, not wholly extinct; and notwithstanding the deplorable cordition to which she was reduced, even through that depth of grief and dejection, as from a dark cloud, shot forth keen glances, and a kind of radiance which brightened in her looks, and in every movement 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.

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 am indebted 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 exclamations, and passionate glances, but she employed those arts with no success; for, whether her charms had no longer the power they had in her youth, or that ambition was Caesar's ruling passion, he did not seem affected with either her person or conversation; contenting himself with exhorting her to take courage, and assuring her of his good intentions. She was far from not discerning that coldness, from which she presaged no good; 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 in the face. Then turning towards Cæsar," Is it not a horrible thing," said she to him, "that while you have not disdained to visit me, and have thought fit to console me in the sad condition in which I now am, my own domestics should accuse me before you of retaining some women's jewels, not to adorn a wretch like myself, but as a slight present to your sister Octavia, and your wife Livia: that ther 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 inore generosity and magnificence than she could venture to hope, he withdrew, imagining that he had deceived her, and was deceived himself.

Not doubting but 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, who, under colour of doing her honour, followed her every where; and besides that, her time was short, Cæsar's departure approaching. The better, therefore, to cajole 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 tears, 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 table, having ordered it to be served magnificently. When she arose from table, she wrote a letter to Cæsar; and having mage all quit her chamber except her two women, she shut the door, sat down upon a couch, and asked for a basket of figs, which a peasant had lately brought. She placed it by her, and a moment after laid down as if she had fallen asleep. But that was the effect of the aspic, which was concealed amongst the fruit, and had stung her in the arm, which she had 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 examination; but the disguised peasant, who was one of the queen's faithful servants, played his part so well, and there seemed so little appearance of deceit 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 he instantly despatched two officers to prevent it. But, notwithstanding 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 a tearless and steadfast eye 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, and those of Cleopatra remained as they were; Archibius, who had long been in her service, having given Cæsar 1000 talents that they might not be treated as Antony's had been. After Cleopatra's death, Egypt was reduced into a province of the Roman empire, and governed by a præfect sent thither from Rome. The reign of the Ptolemies in Egypt, if we date its commencement from the death of Alexander the Great, had continued 293 years, from the year of the world 3681 to 3974.

* Ausa et jacentem visere regiam
Vultu sereno, fortis et asperas
Tractare serpentes, ut atrum

Corpore combiberet venenum
Deliberatâ morte ferocior;
Sævis Liburnis scilicet invidens
Privata deduci superbo

Non humilis mulier triumpho.
Hor. Od. xxxvii.

Not the dark palace of the realms below

Can awe the furious purpose of her soul;

Calmly she looks from her superior wo,

That can both death and fear-control!

Provokes the serpent's sting, his rage disdams,

And joys to feel his poison in her veins.

Invidious to the victor's fancied pride,

She will not for her own descend,

Disgrac'd a vulgar captive by his side,
His pompous triumph to attend,

But fiercely flies to death, and bids her sorrows end.

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 ruins of each other, subsist 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 still remains, 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, will 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. Behold here, to speak properly, a picture on a small scale of the duration of all ages; of the glory and power of all the empires of the world; in a word, of all that is most splendid and most capable of exciting admiration in human greatness! Every excellence, by a happy concurrence, is here found assembled; the fire of genius, delicacy of taste, accompanied by solid judgment; uncommon powers 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, who appear to possess them as privileges peculiar to themselves, an ardent zeal for justice, a passionate love for their 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 the power of human nature.

In this manner we think and judge. But, whilst we are in admiration and ecstacy at the view of so many shining virtues, the

Supreme Judge, who can alone truly estimate all things, sees nothing in them but littleness, meanness, vanity, and pride; and whilst mankind are anxiously busied in perpetuating the power of their families, in founding kingdoms, and, if that were possible, rendering them eternal, 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 to all empires their fate and duration. In all the different revolutions which we have seen, nothing has come to pass by chance. We know that under the image of that statue which Nebuchadnezzar saw, of an enormous height and terrible aspect, whose head was of gold, the breast 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 splendid, grand, formidable, and powerful. And of what has the Almighty occasion 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."

-We see with our own eyes the accomplishment of this admirable prophecy of Daniel, at least in part. Jesus Christ, who came down from heaven to clothe himself with 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, how shining scever it was, 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 that a prophet represents him to us; "He went forth conquering and to conquer." His work and mission are," to set ap a kingdom for his Father, which shall never be destroyed; and the kingdom which shall not be left to other people;" like those of which we have seen the history; “but it shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand for ever.'

Ecclus. xxxix. 20.

† Dan. ii 34, 35.

Apoc. vi. 9