The walls of Byzantium[154] were built of large square stones, so joined as, apparently, to form one single block. They were much loftier on the land side than towards the water, being naturally defended by the waves, and in some places by the rocks they are built on, which project into the sea.

They were of Cyclopian structure[155]; and of the workmanship, from what Herodian has said of them, the masonry was greatly superior to any of the workmanship now visible in the fortifications. It was surrounded by a wall, made of such immense quadrangular masses of stone, and so skilfully adjusted, that the marvellous masonry, instead of disclosing to view the separate parts of which it consisted, seemed like one entire mass. "The very ruins," says Herodian, "show the wonderful skill, not only of the persons who built it, but of those, also, by whom it was dismantled."

The wall of Theodosius begins at the castle of Seven Towers, whence it traverses the whole western side of the city. This is the only part of the general wall of the city worth seeing. It is flanked into a double row of mural towers, and defended by a fosse about eight yards wide. The same promiscuous mixture of the works of ancient art—columns, inscriptions, bas-reliefs, &c.—seen in the walls of all the Greek cities, is here remarkably conspicuous. But the ivy-mantled towers, and the great height of this wall, added to its crumbling ruinous state, give it a picturesque appearance, exhibited by no other city in the Levant: it resembles a series of old ruined castles extending for five miles from sea to sea[156].

Of the eighteen gates, which once existed on the west side of the city, only seven now remain. The site of the two temples erected by Justinian, as safeguards of the city, may still be ascertained by their vestiges; but these have almost disappeared.

The walls, which are well built, are still standing, and consist of stone terraces from fifty to sixty feet high, and occasionally from fifteen to twenty feet thick, covered with freestone of a greyish-white colour; but sometimes of pure white, and seeming fresh from the chisel of the mason. At the feet of the walls are the ancient fosses filled with rubbish and luxuriant loam, in which trees and pellitories have taken root ages ago, and now form an impenetrable glacis. The summit of the wall is almost everywhere crowned with vegetation, which overhangs and forms a sort of coping, surmounted by capital and volute of climbing plants and ivy. These walls are so noble, that La Martine says that, next to the Parthenon and Balbec, they are the noblest existing memorials of ruined empires.

"There is nothing either grand or beautiful in the remains of the brazen column, consisting of the bodies of three serpents twisted spirally together. It is about twelve feet in height, and being hollow, the Turks have filled it with broken tiles, stones, and other relics. But in the circumstances of its history, no critique of ancient times can be more interesting. For it once supported the golden tripod at Delphi, which the Greeks, after the battle of Platæa, found in camp of Mardonius[157]."

Near the Valide is a column of porphyry[158], generally supposed to have supported the statue of Constantine. It is composed of eight pieces, surrounded by as many wreaths or garlands of the same marble. Not long since it gained the name of Colonna Brugiata, or burned pillar, having been very much defaced by the many conflagrations to which this vast city has been subject.

Near Mesmer-Kiosch[159] is a view of the summit of the Corinthian pillar of white marble, fifty feet high, in the gardens of the seraglio, with the inscription—

FORTUNÆ REDUCI OB DEVICTOS GOTHOS.

This has been erroneously supposed the column of Theodora. Pococke mentions that it was taken from some other part of the town to the seraglio gardens. It is supported by a handsome capital of verd antique.

This building[160], the mosque of St. Sophia (formerly of much larger extent), owes its foundation to the emperor Justinian, who lived also to see it finished, A. D. 557. It was dedicated by him to the wisdom of God. This fabric is entirely Gothic.

"In the time of Procopius[161] its dome might have seemed suspended by a chain from heaven; but at present it exhibits much more of a subterranean than of an aerial character. The approach to the Pantheon at Rome, as well as to the spacious aisle and dome of St. Peter's, is by ascending; but in order to get beneath the dome of St. Sophia, the spectator is conducted down a flight of stairs. * * * The more we saw of the city, the more we had reason to be convinced that it remains as it was from its conquest by the Turks. The interior of St. Sophia manifestly proves the indisposition of the Turks towards the decoration of the buildings they found. * * * There is so much of littleness and bad taste in the patchwork of its interior decorations, and of confusion in the piles and buttresses about it, when viewed externally, that we hardly considered it more worth visiting than some other mosques, especially those of sultan Solyman and sultan Achmet."

This is one of the largest edifices ever built for the purpose of Christian worship; but though built by Constantine, it is evident, from the barbarous style of art which pervades the mass of stone, that it is the production of a vitiated and declining age. It is a confused memorial of a taste which no longer exists. "In its present state," says La Martine, "St. Sophia resembles an immense caravansary of God; for there are the columns of the temple of Ephesus and the figures of the apostles, encircled with gilded glories, looking down upon the hanging lamps of the Iman."

In the mosques, called Osmanic, are pillars of Egyptian granite, twenty-two feet high and three feet in diameter; and near it is the celebrated sarcophagus of red porphyry, called the Tomb of Constantine, nine feet long, seven feet wide, and five feet thick, of one entire mass. In the mosque of sultan Achmet are columns of verde antico, Egyptian granite, and white marble. Several antique vases of glass and earthenware are also there suspended, exactly as they were in the temples of the ancients with the votive offerings.

Near the mosque of sultan Achmet[162], which is one of the finest buildings in Constantinople, stands the Hippodrome, called by the Turks Etmeidon, which is no other than a translation of the ancient name; it being made use of at present for exercising cavalry.

It is a space of ground five hundred and seventy-four yards in length, and one hundred and twenty-four in breadth, and at one end are two obelisks, the one of granite fifty-eight feet high, on which are inscribed many Egyptian hieroglyphics. The pedestal is adorned with bas-relievos of but ordinary sculpture, representing different actions of the emperor Theodosius in relation to the races that were performed in the Hippodrome. In one place, particularly, he is to be seen crowning a figure who is supposed to be the person that had carried off the prize.

The other obelisk is composed of several pieces of stone, and seems, by many cavities between the stones, to have been covered with brass plates; which, together with its height, must have rendered it superior to the former in magnificence. Between these obelisks is the Delphic pillar.

The aqueduct of the Roman emperors still remains[163]. It was first erected by Hadrian: it was called by his name; subsequently it bore that of Valens, and of Theodosius. Being ruined by the Avans in the reign of Heraclius, it was repaired by one of the Constantines. In a later period Solyman, called the Magnificent, finding it gone to decay, caused it to be restored. It consists of a double line of arches, built with alternate layers of stone and brick.

Within the walls of Constantinople[164] the Greek emperors had formed, by excavation, a number of immense cisterns, or reservoirs, which were always to be kept full, and which might supply the capital in case of siege. One of them, though no longer performing the office for which it was intended, is still one of the curiosities of Constantinople, to which all travellers are conducted. It is a vast subterranean edifice, whose roof is supported by an immense number of columns, each column being curiously formed of three pillars placed one on the top of the other. The Turks call it the place of the "thousand and one columns"—not that the columns are really so numerous—but because it is the favourite number of the oriental nations. Though the earth has, in part, filled it up, it is still of great depth.

The whole cavity, according to Dr. Walsh, is capable of containing 1,237,939 cubit feet of water when full. It is now, however, dry; and a number of silk-twisters have taken possession of it, and ply their trade at the bottom in almost utter darkness. There is another, also, which still exists as a cistern; which Dr. Walsh, who first gave us any account of it, describes as being a subterraneous lake, extending under several streets, with an arched roof that covers and conceals it, supported on three hundred and thirty-six magnificent pillars.

Some remains of a large antique structure are seen on the side of the Hippodrome; and it has been conjectured that this was the palace of the emperors; others suppose it to have been part of the Basilica, the form of which Gyllius believes to have been quadrangular; in opposition to those who had described it as an octagon. The Basilica was a college for the instruction of youth. In the reign of Basilicus there happened a great fire, and which consuming whole streets, with many stately edifices, wholly destroyed the Basilica, together with its library, containing six hundred thousand volumes. Amongst these curiosities there was a MS. of the Iliad and Odyssey, written in letters of gold; upon a serpents gut, one hundred and twenty feet in length.

Wheler says that the Seven Towers do not look strong enough for a castle; but sufficiently so for a prison; which was the employment to which it was put for great men, or great malefactors, like the Tower of London. He was not permitted to enter into it; but he observed that one of the gateways was adorned with bassi-relievi, or oblong tablets of white marble. One of these represented the fall of Phaeton; another Hercules fighting with a bull; another Hercules combating with Cerberus; and another, Venus coming to Adonis during the time in which he is sleeping.

The appearance of these walls, says Hobhouse, (the work of the second Theodosius), is more venerable than any other Byzantine antiquity; their triple ranges rise one above the other in most places nearly entire, and still retaining their ancient battlements and towers, which are shaded with large trees, which spring from the fosse, and through the rents of repeated earthquakes.

The intervals between the triple walls, which are eighteen feet wide, are in many places choked up with earth and masses of the fallen rampart; and the fosse, of twenty-five feet in breadth, is cultivated and converted into gardens and cherry orchards, with here and there a solitary cottage. Such is the height of the walls, that to those following the road under them on the outside, none of the mosques or other buildings of the capital, except the towers of Tekkun-Sana, are visible; and as there are no suburbs, this line of majestic ramparts, defenceless and trembling with age, might impress upon the mind the notion, that the Ottomans had not deigned to inhabit the conquered city, but, carrying away its people into distant captivity, had left it an unresisting prey to the desolations of time.

The Seven Towers reminded La Martine of the death of the first sultan, who was immolated by the Janissaries. Othman was allured by them into the castle, and perished two days afterwards by the hand of the vizir Daoud. Shortly after, the vizir himself was conducted to the Seven Towers. His turban was torn off his head; he was made to drink at the same fountain where the unfortunate Othman had slaked his thirst; and he was strangled in the same chamber in which he had strangled his master. "I have seen the ruins of Athens, of Ephesus, and Delphi," says Lord Byron; "I have traversed great part of Turkey; and many other parts of Europe, and some of Asia; but I never beheld a work of nature or art, which yielded an impression like the prospect, on each side, from the Seven Towers to the Golden Horn."

NO. XX.—CAIRO (OLD).

Its environs are now scattered over with ruins, which indicate its ancient extent; and which, were history defective, would sufficiently attest it to be comparatively modern. They want the majestic character the Egyptians gave to their edifices, and the impression of which time cannot efface. Neither sphynx, column, nor obelisk, can be found among those heaps of rubbish.

At this place, however, are still to be seen Joseph's granaries; if this appellation may be given to a large space of ground, surrounded by walls twenty feet high, and divided into courts, without any roof or covering. But the only things worth seeing in the ancient Cairo are the castle, and the aqueduct that conveys the water of the Nile into the castle. It is supported by three hundred and fifty narrow and very lofty arcades.

These are thus described by Rollin:—The castle of Cairo is one of the greatest curiosities in Egypt. It stands on the hill without the city, has a rock for its foundation, and is surrounded with walls of a vast height and solidity. You go up to the castle by a way hewn out of the rock, and which is of so easy ascent, that loaded horses and camels get up without difficulty. The greatest rarity in this castle is Joseph's Well; so called, either because the Egyptians are pleased with ascribing their most remarkable particulars to that great man, or because there is really such a tradition in the country. This is a proof, at least, that the work in question is very ancient; and it is certainly worthy the magnificence of the most powerful kings of Egypt. This well has, as it were, two stories, cut out of a rock to a prodigious depth. One descends to the reservoir of water between the two wells by a staircase seven or eight feet broad, consisting of two hundred and twenty steps, and so contrived, that the oxen employed to throw up the water, go down with all imaginable ease; the descent being scarcely perceptible. The well is supplied by a spring, which is almost the only one in the whole country. The oxen are continually turning a wheel with a rope, to which buckets are fastened. The water thus drawn from the first and lowermost well is conveyed by a little canal into a reservoir which forms the second well, from whence it is drawn to the top in the same manner, and then conveyed by pipes to all parts of the castle.

The remains of Egyptian Babylon merit attention, says Mr. Wilkinson; and, among other objects shown by the monks, who live there, is a chamber of the Virgin, the traditions concerning which have been treated by the credulous with the same pious feelings as the tree at Heliopolis. The station of Babylon is evidently of Roman construction, and probably the same that is mentioned by Strabo, in which one of the three Roman legions was quartered. It formed part of the town of Fostat, built by Amer, near the ruins of Babylon, and the mosque, called after him, marks the spot of his encampment, which subsequently became the centre of the city he had founded. The exterior of the Roman station still reminds us of its former strength, which defied the attacks of the Arab invaders for seven months, and its solid walls still contain a village of Christian inhabitants. Over the triangular pediment of the doorway, which is on the south side, appears to have been an inscription, long since removed; and in an upper chamber above one of the bastions of this now-closed entrance, is an old Christian record, sculptured on wood, of the time of Dioclesian, which is curious from its material and the state of its preservation.

Near Cairo are some ancient catacombs. These are situated beneath a mound in the middle of a plain, adjoining the pyramids of Saccara, which lies beneath the sandy surface. Dr. Clarke ascended into them by means of a rope-ladder. "The first chamber he entered contained scattered fragments of mummies, which had originally been placed on a shelf cut out of the rock, and extending breast-high the whole length of this apartment: there are two tiers or stories of these chambers, one above the other, all presenting the same appearance of violation and disorder, and smelling very offensively. At some distance from these, which were apparently appropriated to man, are those in which the sacred birds and animals were deposited; one apartment of which Dr. Clarke found filled with earthen jars entire, laid horizontally in tiers on one another, something like bottles in a wine-bin. They were about fourteen inches long, and conical in form, the cover being fixed on by some kind of cement; when opened, they were found to contain the bodies of birds (the ibis), with white feathers tipped with black, or the heads of monkeys, cats, and other animals, all carefully bandaged up in linen.

Old Cairo sustained all the evils of a great famine in the year of Christ 597. We adopt the account given of this calamity from the Encyclopædia Londinensis:—"Of the number of poor who perished with hunger," says Abtollatiph, "it is impossible to form any probable estimate; but I will give the reader some information on this subject, whence he may form a faint idea of the mortality with which Egypt was then afflicted. In Mesr, and Cairo, and their confines, wherever a person turned he could not avoid stumbling over some starved object, either already dead, or in the agonies of death."

From Cairo alone nearly five hundred were daily carried out to the burying-ground; and so great was the mortality in Mesr, that the dead were thrown out without the walls, where they remained unburied.

But afterwards, when the survivors were no longer able to throw out the dead bodies, they were left wherever they expired, in the houses, shops, or streets. The limbs of the dead were even cut in pieces, and used for food; and instead of receiving the last offices from their friends, and being decently interred, their remains were attended by persons who were employed in roasting or baking them.

In all the distant provinces and towns the inhabitants became entirely extinct, except in the principal cities, and some of the large towns, such as Kous Ashmunein, Mahalla, &c., and even there but a few survived.

In those days a traveller might pass through a city without finding in it one human creature alive. He saw the houses open, and the inhabitants dead on their faces, some grown putrid, and others who had recently expired. If he entered into the houses, he found them full of goods, but no one to make use of them; and he saw nothing wherever he turned, but a dreadful solitude, and a universal desolation. This account rests not on the information and authority of a single person, but of many, whose several assertions mutually confirmed each other. One of these gave information in the following words:—"We entered a city, where no living creature was to be found; we went into the houses, and there we saw the inhabitants prostrate and dead, all lying in a wretched group on the ground,—the husband, the wife, and the children. Hence we passed into another city, which contained, as we had heard, four hundred shops of weavers: it was now a desert like the former,—the artificer had expired in his shop, and his family lay dead around him. A third city, which we afterwards visited, appeared like the former,—a scene of death and desolation. Being obliged to reside in this place for some time, for the purpose of agriculture, we ordered persons to throw the bodies of the dead into the hole at the rate of ten for a diakem. Wolves and hyenas resorted here in great numbers to feed on the corpses[166]."

NO. XXI.—CANNÆ.

Cannæ is a small village of Apulia, near the Aufidus, famous for a battle between Hannibal and the Romans; and as the spot where the battle was fought is still pointed out by the inhabitants, and is still denominated "the field of blood," we shall refresh the memories of our readers with an account of it. Both armies having often removed from place to place, came in sight of each other near Cannæ. As Hannibal was encamped in a level open country, and his cavalry much superior to that of the Romans, Æmilius did not think proper to engage in such a place. He was for drawing the enemy into an irregular spot, where the infantry might have the greatest share of the action. But his colleague, who was wholly inexperienced, was of a contrary opinion. The troops on each side were, for some time, contented with skirmishes; but, at last, one day when Varro had the command, for the two consuls took it by turns, preparations were made on both sides for battle. Æmilius had not been consulted; yet, though he extremely disapproved the conduct of his colleague, as it was not in his power to prevent it, he seconded him to the utmost. The two armies were very unequal in numbers. That of the Romans, including the allies, amounted to eighty thousand foot, and about six thousand horse; and that of the Carthaginians consisted but of forty thousand foot, all well disciplined, and of ten thousand horse. Æmilius commanded the right wing of the Romans; Varro the left; and Servilius was posted in the centre. Hannibal, who had the art of taking all advantages, had posted himself so as the south wind should blow directly in the faces of the Romans during the fight[167], and cover them with dust. Then keeping the river Aufidus on his left, and posting his cavalry on the wings, he formed his main body of the Spanish and Gallic infantry, which he posted in the centre, with half the African heavy armed foot on the right, and half on their left, on the same line with the cavalry. His army being thus drawn up, he put himself at the head of the Spanish and Gallic infantry, and having drawn themselves out in a line, advanced to begin the battle, rounding his front as he advanced near the enemy. The fight soon began, and the Roman legions that were in the wings, seeing their centre firmly attacked, advanced to charge the enemy in flank. Hannibal's main body, after a brave resistance, finding themselves furiously attacked on all sides, gave way, being overpowered in numbers. The Romans having pursued them with eager confusion, the two wings of the African infantry, which was fresh, well armed, and in good order, wheeled about on a sudden towards that void space in which the Romans had thrown themselves in disorder, and attacked them vigorously on both sides without allowing them time to recover themselves, or leaving them ground to draw up. In the mean time, the two wings of the cavalry having defeated those of the Romans, which were much inferior to them, advanced and charged the rest of the Roman infantry, which being surrounded at once on every side by the enemy's horse and foot, was all cut to pieces, after having fought with great bravery. Æmilius being covered with wounds, he received in the fight, was afterwards killed by a body of the enemy to whom he was not known. Above seventy thousand men fell in this battle; and the Carthaginians, so great was their fury, did not give over the slaughter till Hannibal, in the very heat of it, cried out to them several times, "Stop, soldiers, spare the vanquished." Ten thousand men, who had been left to guard the camps, surrendered themselves prisoners of war after the battle. Varro, the consul, retired to Venusia with only seventy horse; and about four thousand men escaped into the neighbouring cities. Hannibal remained master of the field, he being chiefly indebted for this, as well as for his former victories, to the superiority of his cavalry over the Romans. Maherbal, one of the Carthaginian generals, advised Hannibal to march directly to Rome, promising him that within five days they should sup in the capital. Hannibal, answering, that it was an affair that required mature examination—"I see," replies Maherbal, "that the gods have not endowed the same men with all talents. You, Hannibal, know how to conquer, but not to make the best use of a victory." It is pretended that this delay saved Rome and the empire. Many authors, and among the rest Livy, charge Hannibal on this occasion as if guilty of a capital error. But others, more reserved, are not for condemning without evident proofs, so renowned a general, who, in the rest of his conduct, was never wanting either in prudence to make choice of the best expedient, or in readiness to put his designs in execution. They, besides, are inclined to judge favourably of him from the authority, or, at least, the silence of Polybius, who, speaking of the memorable consequences of this celebrated battle, says, "That the Carthaginians were firmly persuaded, that they should possess themselves of Rome at the first assault:" but then he does not mention how this could possibly have been effected; as that city was very populous, warlike, strongly fortified, and defended with a garrison of two legions; nor does he anywhere give the least hint that such a project was feasible, or that Hannibal did wrong, in not attempting to put it in execution.

Soon after the battle of Cannæ, Hannibal despatched his brother to Carthage with the news of his victory; and at the same time to demand succours, in order that he might be enabled to put an end to the war. Mago being arrived, made, in full senate, a lofty speech, in which he extolled his brother's exploits, and displayed the great advantages he had gained over the Romans. And to give a more lively idea of the greatness of the victory, by speaking in some measure to the eye, he poured out in the middle of the senate a bushel of gold rings which had been taken from such of the Roman nobility as had fallen in the battle.

A ridge of low hills[168], bare of wood, and laid out in grass or corn land, confines the river for four miles, at the end of which, bounded by knolls, stood the city of Cannæ. The traces of the town, however, are very faint, consisting of fragments of altars, cornices, gates, walls, vaults, and under-ground granaries. "My eyes ranged at large over the vast expanse of unvariegated plains," says Mr. Swinburne: "all was silent; not a man, not an animal, appeared to enliven the scene. We stood on ruins and over vaults; the banks of the river were desert and wild. My thoughts naturally assumed the tint of the dreary prospect, as I reflected on the fate of Carthage and of Rome. Rome recovered from the blow she received in these fields; but her liberty, her fame, and trophies, have long been levelled in the dust. Carthage lies in ruins less discernible than those of the paltry walls of Cannæ; the very traces of them have almost vanished from the face of the earth. The daring projects, marches, and exploits of her hero, even the victory, obtained upon this spot, would, like thousands of other human achievements, have been long buried in oblivion, had not his very enemies consigned him to immortality; for the annals of Carthage exist no more."

The peasants showed Mr. Swinburne some spurs and heads of lances, which had been turned up by the plough a short time before he visited the spot, and told him, that horse-loads of armour and weapons had been found and carried away at different times[169].

NO. XXII.—CAPUA.

Perhaps our readers will have no objection to have their memories refreshed by an allusion to the mistake, committed at this place by Hannibal. The details of it will give some variety to our page. It is thus related by Rollin, from the luminous page of Livy:—"The battle of Cannæ subjected the most powerful nations of Italy to Hannibal, drew over to his interest Græcia Magna; also wrested from the Romans their most ancient allies, amongst whom the Capuans held the first rank. This city, by the fertility of its soil, its advantageous situation, and the blessings of a long peace, had risen to great wealth and power. Luxury, and a flow of pleasures, the usual attendants on wealth, had corrupted the minds of all the citizens, who, from their natural inclination, were but too much addicted to voluptuousness and all excesses. Hannibal made choice of this city for his winter-quarters. There it was that his soldiers, who had sustained the most grievous toils, and braved the most formidable dangers, were overthrown by delights and a profusion of all things, into which they plunged with the greater eagerness as they, till then, had been entire strangers to them. Their courage was so enervated in this bewitching retirement, that all their after-efforts were owing rather to the fame and splendour of their former victories than to their present strength. When Hannibal marched his forces out of the city, one would have taken them for other men, and the reverse of those who had so lately marched into it. Accustomed, during the winter season, to commodious lodgings, to ease and plenty, they were no longer able to bear hunger, thirst, long marches, watchings, and the other toils of war; not to mention that all obedience, all discipline, were laid aside."

Livy thinks that Hannibal's stay at Capua is a reproach to his conduct; and pretends that he there was guilty of an infinitely greater error than when he neglected to march directly to Rome after the battle of Cannæ:—"For this delay," says Livy, "might seem only to have retarded his victory; whereas this last misconduct rendered him absolutely incapable of ever defeating the enemy. In a word, as Marcellus observed judiciously afterwards, Capua was to the Carthaginians and their general, what Cannæ had been to the Romans. There their martial genius, their love of discipline, were lost; there their former fame, and their almost certain hopes of future glory, vanished at once, and, indeed, from thenceforth, the affairs of Hannibal advanced to their decline by swift steps; fortune declared in favour of prudence, and victory seemed now reconciled to the Romans." It is doubted, however, whether Livy has reason to impute all these fatal consequences to the agreeable abode at Capua. It might, indeed, have been one cause, but this would be a very inconsiderable one; and the bravery with which the forces of Hannibal afterwards defeated the armies of consuls and prætors; the towns they took even in sight of the Romans; their maintaining their conquests so vigorously, and staying fourteen years after this in Italy in spite of the Romans; all these circumstances may induce us to believe that Livy lays too much stress on the delights of Capua. In fact, the chief cause of the decay of Hannibal's affairs was his want of necessary supplies and succours from Carthage.

The revolt of Capua to the Carthaginians proved its ruin; for when taken by the consuls Fulvius and Claudius, it was punished for its perfidy. Genseric, the Vandal, however, was more cruel than the Romans had been; for he massacred the inhabitants and burned the town to the ground. Narses rebuilt it; but in 841 it was totally destroyed by an army of Saracens, and the inhabitants driven to the mountains[170]. Some time after the retreat of these savage invaders, the Lombards ventured down again into the plain; but not deeming their force adequate to the defence of so great a circuit as the large city, they built themselves a smaller one on the river, and called it Capua.

In 1501 this new city was taken by storm by the French, who, according to Guicciardini and Giannone, committed the most flagitious acts of rapine, lust, and enormity.

"The amphitheatre of Old Capua," says Mr. Forsyth, "recals to us the sublime image of Spartacus. It resembles the Coliseum in its form and in its fate. Both were raised on magnificent designs—negligently executed. Both have suffered from barbarians and from modern builders; but the solitude of the Campanian ruin has exposed it to greater dilapidation than the Roman has yet undergone. Part of its materials has emigrated to modern Capua; a part is buried in its own arena. The first order of columns is half interred; the second has none entire."

Though much defaced by the loss of its marble[171], this structure offers many ornaments peculiar to itself. It is considerably smaller than the Flavian amphitheatre at Rome; but worthy of the first among the second cities of the empire: the monuments still to be seen on the spot are certainly of a date long posterior to Capua's independence, and even to that of Roman liberty. The lower order of the amphitheatre is Tuscan; the second Doric. What the upper ones were cannot be ascertained: on the keystone of each arcade was the bust of a deity of a colossal size and coarse execution, much too massive for the rest of the work. It had four entrances, and was built of brick, faced with stone or marble. The little value set upon brick has preserved it; while the other materials have been torn down to mend roads and build cottages.

"From Caserta," says Mr. Forsyth, "it is but half an hour's ride to the remains of ancient Capua[172]. Some tombs on the road, though ruined and encumbered with bushes, display a variety of sepulchral forms, unknown during the Roman republic. Most of the Campanian tombs, anterior to Cæsar, had been demolished by his soldiers, while searching for painted vases; for Capua, though late in learning the ceramic art, was more productive than the rest of Campania." Vases have lately been discovered here in great variety, and antiquaries find out purposes for them all; either in the form, or the size, or the painting, or their own imagination[173].

NO. XXIII.—CARTHAGE.

The foundation of Carthage is ascribed to Elisa, a Tyrian princess, better known by the name of Dido. She married her relation, whose name was Sichæus. Her brother was Pigmalion, king of Tyre. Sichæus being extremely rich, Pigmalion put him to death in order to seize upon his wealth; but the plan did not succeed; for Dido managed to elude his avarice, by withdrawing from the city with all her husband's possessions. Taking all these out to sea, she wandered about for some time; till, coming to the gulf, on the borders of which Utica stood, about fifteen miles from Tunis, then but too well known for its corsairs, she landed for the purpose of considering what plan it would be proper to pursue. Invited by the hope of profit, the people of the neighbouring country soon began to frequent the new settlement; and those brought others from more distant parts, and the town soon began to wear an air of importance.

Utica having also been raised by a colony from Tyre, its inhabitants entered into friendship with the new comers. They deputed envoys with considerable presents and exhorted them to build a city. This exhortation was seconded by the natives of the country. All things conspiring to so great an object, Dido immediately entered into a treaty with the natives for a certain portion of land, and having agreed to pay an annual tribute to the Africans for the ground on which the town was to stand, she built that celebrated city, so universally known, and gave it the name of Carthada, or Carthage, a word signifying the "New City[174]."

Dido was soon sought in marriage by the king of Getulia, named Iarbus. Having determined on never marrying again, out of compliment to her lost husband, Sichæus, she desired time for consideration. We must now follow the true history, and neglect the false one; that is, we must follow Justin, and altogether disregard Virgil; since, to answer the purposes of his poem, as well as those of a political nature, he has fixed the building of Carthage no less than three hundred years before the period in which it actually occurred.

Justin's account is this[175]:—"Iarbus, king of the Mauritanians, sending for ten of the principal Carthaginians, demanded Dido in marriage, threatening to declare war against her in case of refusal. The ambassadors, being afraid to deliver the message of Iarbus, told her, with punic honesty, that he wanted to have some person sent him, who was capable of civilizing and polishing himself and his Africans; but there was no possibility of finding any Carthaginian, who would be willing to quit his native place and kindred, for the conversation of barbarians, who were as savage as the wildest beasts. Here the queen, with indignation, interrupted them, asking if they were not ashamed to refuse living in any manner which might be beneficial to their country, to which they owed their lives. They then delivered the king's message, and bade her set them a pattern, and sacrifice herself to her country's welfare. Dido, being thus ensnared, called on Sichæus, with tears and lamentations, and answered that she would go where the fate of her city called her. At the expiration of three months she ascended the fatal pile, and with her last breath told the spectators, that she was going to her husband, as they had ordered her."

The first war made by the Carthaginians was against the Africans, in order to free themselves from the tribute they had engaged to pay. In this, however, they were foiled. They afterwards carried their arms against the Moors and Numidians, and won conquest from both. They had then a dispute with Cyrene, on account of their respective limits. This quarrel was settled without much trouble. They soon after conquered Sardinia, Majorca, and Minorca. Then they added many cities in Spain to their conquests; though it is not known at what period they entered that country, nor how far they extended their conquests. Their conquests were slow at the first; but in the process of time, they subjugated nearly the whole country. They became soon after masters of nearly all Sicily. This excited the jealousy of the Romans; and Sicily became an arena for the trial of their respective strength. "What a fine field of battle," said Pyrrhus, as he left that island, "do we leave the Carthaginians and Romans!"

The wars between Rome and Carthage were three, and they are called, in the history of the former city, "Punic" wars. The first lasted twenty-four years; then there was an interval of peace, but that expired at the end of twenty-four years more. The second Punic war took up seventeen years; and then ensued another interval of forty-nine years; followed by the third Punic war, which terminated, after a contest of four years and some months, in the total destruction of Carthage.

The first was terminated in a treaty to the following effect[176], that "there shall be peace between the Carthaginians and Romans, on the following conditions:—The Carthaginians shall evacuate all Sicily; shall no longer make war against the Syracusans or their allies; shall restore to the Romans, without ransom, all the prisoners whom they shall have taken from them; pay one thousand talents of silver immediately; and two thousand two hundred talents of silver within the space of ten years; and, also, depart out of all the islands situated between Italy and Sicily." Sardinia was not comprehended in this treaty; but they gave it up in a treaty some years after. This was the longest war that had then been known in any country; it having lasted four-and-twenty years. "The obstinacy in disputing for empire," says the historian, "was equal on both sides; the same resolution, the same greatness of soul, in forming as well as in executing of projects being equal on both sides. The Carthaginians had the superiority over the Romans, with regard to naval affairs; the strength and swiftness of their vessels; the working of them; the skill and capacity of their pilots; the knowledge of coasts, shallows, roads and winds; and in the inexhaustible fund of wealth which furnished all the expenses of so long and obstinate a war.

The qualities and capabilities of the Romans were of a different character. They had none of the advantages above stated; but their courage, and regard for the public good, are said to have supplied all of them; and their soldiers were greatly superior to those of Carthage, not only in skill but in courage.

The Carthaginians had scarcely closed the war with the Romans, than they were engaged in another against the mercenaries who had served under them in Sicily. This was a short but a very sanguinary war. These mercenaries being returned to the neighbourhood of Carthage, were unjustly treated, in not being paid the wages they had earned by the assistance they had given. Complaints, seditious and insolent murmurs, were heard on every side. These troops being composed of different nations, who were strangers to one another's language, were incapable of hearing reason when they once mutinied. They consisted of Gauls, Ligurians, Spaniards, and natives of the Balearic islands; a great number of Greek slaves and deserters; and a large number of Africans.

These troops having been trifled with by the Carthaginian government, the members of which attempted to defraud them of no small share of what they had earned, broke out into ungovernable fury, and being twenty thousand strong, marched towards Carthage, and encamped at Tunis, a city not far from the metropolis.

The insurgents now began to act the part their employers had set them the example of. They rose in their demands far above what was due to them; and the Carthaginians at length saw the error of having given way to a dishonest policy. The points at issue, however, were at last, in a great measure, arranged, when two soldiers among the mercenaries found means to raise the whole of their comrades into mutiny, and engaged several cities to take up their cause. Their army amounted, after a while, to seventy thousand men. Carthage had never been in such urgent danger before. The command of the army was given to Hanno. Troops were levied by land and sea; horse as well as foot. All the citizens capable of bearing arms were mustered; all their ships were refitted; and mercenaries were enlisted from all parts. On the other hand, the insurgents harassed them with perpetual alarms, advancing to their walls by night as well as by day.

When the mercenaries, who had been left in Sardinia, heard of what their comrades had effected in Africa, they shook off their yoke in imitation, murdered the general who commanded them, and all the Carthaginians who served under him; and a successor, who was sent from Carthage, also the forces which had accompanied him, went over to the rebels. They hung the new general on a cross, and put all the Carthaginians then in Sardinia to the sword, after making them suffer inexpressible torments. They then besieged all the cities one after another, and soon got possession of the whole country.

When they had effected this, they quarrelled among themselves; and the natives taking advantage of that, became soon enabled to drive them out of the island. They took refuge in Italy, where, after some scruples on the part of the Romans, they induced that people to sail over to Sardinia, and render themselves masters of it. When the Carthaginians heard of this, they were highly indignant; and the matter terminated, at length, in what is called the Second Punic war.

This war had many remote causes besides the one we have just stated: but for these, as well as its astonishing variety of incidents and fortunes, we must refer to the various histories of the two states. We can only state the issue. We cannot, however, deny ourselves the satisfaction of quoting what Rollin says with regard to the general subject:—"Whether we consider the boldness of the enterprises; the wisdom employed in the execution; the obstinate efforts of the two rival nations, and the ready resources they found in their lowest ebb of fortune; the variety of uncommon events, and the uncertain issue of so long and bloody a war; or, lastly, the assemblage of the most perfect models in every kind of merit; we cannot but consider them as the most instructive lessons that occur in history, either with regard to war, policy, or government. Neither did two more powerful, or, at least, more warlike states or nations make war against each other; and never had those in question seen themselves raised to a more exalted pitch of power and glory."

Though, as we have already hinted, there were many remote causes for this war, the more immediate one was the taking of Saguntum by the Carthaginian general, Hannibal. We shall speak of the fall of this city when we come to describe its ruins, which still remain.

Words, we are told, could never express the grief and consternation with which the news of the taking of Saguntum was received at Rome. The senate sent immediately deputies to Carthage to inquire whether Saguntum had been besieged by order of the republic; and, if so, to declare war: or, in case the siege had been undertaken solely by the authority of Hannibal, that he should be delivered up to the Romans. The senate not giving any answer to this demand, one of the deputies took up the folded lappet of his robe, and said in a proud voice, "I bring here either peace or war; the choice is left to yourselves." To this the senate answered, "We leave the choice to you." The deputy then declared, "I give you war then." "And we," answered the senate, "as heartily accept it; and we are resolved to prosecute it with the same cheerfulness." Such was the beginning of the second Punic war.

During this war Hannibal made his celebrated march over the Alps. He entered Italy, and fought the battles of Ticinus, Trebia, Thrasymene, and Cannæ. He besieged Capua, and then Rome. In the mean time Scipio conquers all Spain; and having been appointed consul, he sets sail for Africa, and carries the war into the bosom of the Carthaginian state. Success attended him every where.

When the council of "one hundred" found this, they deputed thirty of their body to the tent of the Roman general, when they all threw themselves prostrate upon the earth, such being the custom of the country, spoke to him in terms of great submission, and accused Hannibal of being the author of all their calamities, and promised, in the name of the senate, implicit obedience to whatever the Romans should be pleased to ordain.

Scipio answered, that though he was come into Africa for conquest, and not for peace, he would, nevertheless, grant them one, upon condition, that they should deliver up all the Roman prisoners and deserters; that they should recal their armies out of Gaul and Italy; that they should never set foot again in Spain; that they should retire out of all the islands between Italy and Africa; that they should deliver up all their ships except twenty; give the Romans five hundred thousand bushels of wheat; three hundred thousand of barley; and, moreover, pay to the Romans fifteen thousand talents.

These terms the Carthaginians consented to; but their compliance was only in appearance: their design being to gain time to recal Hannibal. That general was then in Italy. Rome was almost within his grasp. He had, perhaps, seized it, had he marched thither immediately on gaining the battle of Cannæ. The order to return home overwhelmed him with indignation and sorrow. "Never banished man," says Livy, "showed so much regret at leaving his native country as Hannibal did in going out of that of an enemy." He was exasperated almost to madness to see himself thus forced to quit his prey. Arriving in his own country—for we must hasten our narrative—that celebrated meeting between the two generals at Zama took place, which makes so conspicuous a figure in Roman and Carthaginian history.

The issue of this meeting was a battle, in which the Carthaginians, after an obstinate engagement, took to flight, leaving ten thousand men on the field of battle. Hannibal escaped in the tumult, and entering Carthage, owned that he was overthrown; that the disaster was irrecoverable; and that the citizens had no other choice left but to accept whatever terms the conqueror chose to impose.

After some difficulty and opposition in the Carthaginian senate, peace was agreed upon. The terms were exceedingly hard. They were these:—that the Carthaginians should continue free and preserve their laws, territories, and the cities they possessed in Africa during the war. That they should deliver up to the Romans all deserters, slaves, and captives belonging to them; all their ships, except ten triremes; all their tame elephants; and that they should not train up any more for war. That they should not make war out of Africa, nor even in that country, without obtaining leave for that purpose of the Roman people; should restore to Masinissa all they had dispossessed either him or his ancestors of; should furnish money and corn to the Roman auxiliaries, till their ambassadors should be returned from Rome; should pay to the Romans ten thousand Euboic talents[177] of silver in fifty annual payments, and give one hundred hostages, who should be nominated by Scipio.

These were hard terms indeed; and when Scipio burnt all the ships, to the amount of five hundred in the harbour of Carthage, these ships which had been the cause of all the power of Carthage, Carthage appeared to its inhabitants as if it never could recover; nor, indeed, did it ever do so. The blow was fatal.

This war lasted seventeen years: the peace which succeeded, fifty[178]. Twenty-five years after it was concluded, Hannibal poisoned himself at the court of Prusias.

We must now pass to the war, which soon after occurred between the Carthaginians and Masinissa, king of Numidia. In this war the Carthaginians were, in the end, worsted. Scipio the younger, who afterwards destroyed Carthage, was present at the battle. He had been sent by Lucullus, who commanded in Spain, to Masinissa to desire some elephants. During the whole engagement, he is represented as standing upon a neighbouring hill; and was greatly surprised to see Masinissa, then eighty-eight years of age, mounted, agreeably to the custom of his country, on a horse without a saddle, flying from rank to rank like a young officer, and sustaining the most arduous toils. The fight was very obstinate, and continued all day; but at last the Carthaginians gave way, and Masinissa afterwards turned their camp into a blockade, so that no provisions could reach them. A famine ensued, and then the plague. They were, in consequence, reduced to agreeing to the king's terms, which were no other than these:—to deliver up all deserters; to pay five thousands talents of silver in fifty years, and restore all exiles. They were, also, made to suffer the ignominy of passing under the yoke; and dismissed with only one suit of clothes for each. Nor did their misfortunes terminate here. Gulussa, the son of Masinissa, whom the Carthaginians had treated in a disrespectful manner, intercepted them with a body of cavalry. They could neither resist nor escape. The consequence of which was, that out of fifty-eight thousand men only a very few returned to Carthage.

During the latter part of the second Punic war, it was stated in the Roman senate, that Rome could never be in safety while Carthage was permitted to exist:—"Carthage," said Cato, at the close of all his speeches, "must be destroyed." The time soon came, in which the threat was to be carried into execution: and this brings us to the commencement of the third and last Punic war. It lasted only four years; and yet it terminated in the total ruin and destruction of Carthage.

This war arose out of that which the Carthaginians had waged against Masinissa; that prince being an ally of the Romans. The vanquished party sent to Rome to justify their proceedings. When the matter came to be debated in the senate, Cato and Scipio were of different opinions. Nasica desired the preservation of Carthage, in order that the people might, who were grown excessively insolent, have something to fear. Cato, on the other hand, thought, that as the people had become what Nasica represented them, it was highly dangerous that so powerful an enemy as Carthage should be allowed to remain. "They may one day conquer us, so great is our prosperity." He was but lately returned from Africa; and he represented in the senate, that he had not found Carthage exhausted either of men or money. On the contrary, that it was full of vigorous young men, and abounded with immense quantities of gold and silver, and prodigious magazines of arms and all warlike stores; and was, moreover, so haughty and confident on account of all this, that their hopes and ambition had no bounds. On saying this, he took from the lappet of his coat a few figs, and, throwing them on the table, and the senators admiring them—he called out, "Know, this; it is but three days those figs were gathered; so short is the distance between the enemy and us."

The Carthaginians not having made good their cause in regard to their conduct towards Masinissa, war was declared against them, and the generals[179], who were charged with the command, received strict injunctions not to end the war but with the destruction of Carthage.

These instructions the Carthaginians did not become acquainted with till some time after. They, therefore, sent deputies to make all manner of submission. They were even instructed to declare, if necessity required, that they were willing to give themselves up, with all they possessed, to the will and pleasure of the Romans. On arriving at Rome, the deputies found that the war had been, before their arrival, already proclaimed, and that the army had actually sailed. They therefore returned to Carthage with certain proposals, in complying with which the Romans declared they would be satisfied. Amongst the terms demanded were three hundred hostages, the flower and the last hopes of the noblest families in Carthage. No spectacle, we are told, was ever more moving: nothing was heard but cries; nothing seen but tears; and all places echoed with groans and lamentations. Above all, the unhappy mothers, bathed in tears, tore their dishevelled hair, beat their breasts, and expressed their grief in terms so moving, that even savage beasts might have been moved to compassion. But the scene is stated to have been much more moving when the fatal moment arrived when, after having accompanied their children to the ship, they bade them a long and last farewell, persuaded that they should never see them again. They wept a flood of tears over them, embraced them with the utmost fondness, clasped them eagerly in their arms, and could not be prevailed upon to part with them, till they were forced away.

When the hostages arrived at Rome, the deputies were informed that when they should arrive at Utica, the consuls would acquaint them with the orders of the republic. The deputies, therefore, repaired to Utica, where they received orders to deliver up, without delay, all their arms. This command was put immediately in execution; and a long train of waggons soon after arrived at the Roman camp, laden with two hundred thousand complete sets of armour, a numberless multitude of darts and javelins, with two thousand engines for shooting darts and stones. Then followed the deputies, and a great number of the most venerable senators and priests, who came with the hope of moving the Romans to compassion. When they arrived, Censorinus addressed them in the following manner:—"I cannot but commend the readiness with which you execute the orders of the senate. They have commanded me to tell you, that it is their will and pleasure, that you depart out of Carthage, which they have resolved entirely to destroy; and that you remove into any other part of your dominions you shall think proper, provided it be at the distance of eight stadia (twelve miles) from the sea."

The instant the consul had pronounced this fulminating decree, nothing was heard among the Carthaginians but shrieks and howlings. Being now in a manner thunderstruck, they neither knew where they were, nor what they did; but rolled themselves in the dust, tearing their clothes, and unable to vent their grief any otherwise but by broken sighs and deep groans. Being afterwards a little recovered, they lifted up their hands with the air of suppliants, one moment towards the gods, and the next towards the Romans, imploring their mercy and justice with regard to a people, who would soon be reduced to the extremities of despair. But as both the gods and men were deaf to their fervent prayers, they now changed them into reproaches and imprecations; bidding the Romans call to mind, that there were such beings as avenging deities, whose severe eyes were ever open on guilt and treachery. The Romans themselves could not refrain from tears at so moving a spectacle: but their resolution was fixed. The deputies could not even prevail so far as to get the execution of the order suspended, till they should have an opportunity of presenting themselves again before the senate, if possible, to get it revoked. They were forced to set out immediately, and carry the answer to Carthage.

The people waited for their return, with such an impatience and terror, as words can never express. It was scarcely possible for them to break through the crowd that flocked around them, to hear the answer which was but too strongly painted in their faces. When they were come into the senate, and had declared the barbarous orders of the Romans, a general shriek informed the people of their too lamentable fate; and from that instant nothing was seen or heard in every part of the city but howling and despair, madness and fury. The consuls made no great haste to march against Carthage; not suspecting they had reason to be under apprehension from that city, as it was now disarmed. However, the inhabitants took advantage of this delay to put themselves in a posture of defence, being all unanimously resolved not to quit the city. They appointed, as a general, without the walls, Asdrubal, who was at the head of twenty thousand men; and to whom deputies were sent accordingly, to entreat him to forget, for his country's sake, the injustice which had been done to him, from the dread they were under of the Romans. The command of the troops, within the walls, was given to another Asdrubal, grandson to Masinissa. They then applied themselves to making arms with considerable expedition. The temples, the palaces, the open markets and squares, were all changed into so many arsenals, where men and women worked day and night. Every day were made one hundred and forty shields, three hundred swords, five hundred pikes or javelins, a thousand arrows, and a great number of engines to discharge them; and because they wanted materials to make ropes, the women cut off their hair, and abundantly supplied their wants on this occasion.

The combat, which was carried on from the tops of the houses, continued six days, during which a dreadful slaughter was made. To clear the streets, and make way for the troops, the Romans dragged aside with hooks the bodies of such of the inhabitants as had been slain, or precipitated headlong from the houses, and threw them into pits, the greatest part of them being still alive and panting.

There was still reason to believe that the siege would last much longer, and occasion a great effusion of blood. But on the seventh day there appeared a company of men, in a suppliant posture and habit, who desired no other conditions, but that the Romans would be pleased to spare the lives of all those who should be willing to leave the citadel; which request was granted them. The deserters only were excepted. Accordingly, there came out fifty thousand men and women, who were sent into the fields under a strong guard. The deserters were about nine hundred. Finding they would be allowed no quarter, they fortified themselves in the temple of Æsculapius, with Asdrubal, his wife, and two children; where, though their number was but small, they might have held out a long time, because the temple stood on a very high hill, upon rocks, to which the ascent was by sixty steps. But, at last, exhausted by hunger and watchings, oppressed with fear, and seeing their destruction at hand, they lost all patience, when, abandoning the lower part of the temple, they retired to the uppermost story, and resolved not to quit it but with their lives.

In the mean time, Asdrubal, being desirous of saving his own life, came down privately to Scipio, carrying an olive-branch in his hand, and threw himself at his feet. Scipio showed him immediately to the deserters, who, transported with rage and fury at the sight, vented millions of imprecations against him, and set fire to the temple. Whilst it was lighting, we are told that Asdrubal's wife, dressing herself as splendidly as possible, and placing herself and her two children in sight of Scipio, addressed him with a loud voice:—"I call not down," says she, "curses on thy head, O Roman, for thou only takest the privilege allowed by the laws of war: but may the gods of Carthage, and thou, in concert with them, punish, according to his deserts, the false wretch who has betrayed his country, his gods, his wife, his children!" Then directing herself to Asdrubal, "perfidious wretch!" says she, "thou basest of creatures! this fire will presently consume both me and my children; but as to thee, too shameful general of Carthage,—go,—adorn the gay triumph of thy conqueror,—suffer, in the sight of all Rome, the tortures thou so justly deservest!" She had no sooner pronounced these words, but, seizing her children, she cut their throats, threw them into the flames, and afterwards rushed into them herself; in which she was imitated by all the deserters. With regard to Scipio, when he saw this famous city, which had flourished seven hundred years, and might have been compared to the greatest empires on account of the extent of its dominions both by sea and land, its mighty armies, its fleets, elephants, and riches, and that the Carthaginians were even superior to other nations, by their courage and greatness of soul, as, notwithstanding their being deprived of armies and ships, they had sustained, for three whole years, all the hardships and calamities of a long siege; seeing, I say, this city entirely ruined, historians relate, that he could not refuse his tears to the unhappy fate of Carthage. He reflected that cities, nations, and empires, are liable to revolutions no less than particular men; that the like sad fate had attended Troy, anciently so powerful; and in latter times, the Assyrians, Medes, and Persians, whose dominions were once of so great an extent; and lastly, the Macedonians, whose empire had been so glorious throughout the world. Full of these mournful ideas, he repeated the following verses of Homer:—

The day shall come, that great avenging day,
Which Troy's proud glories in the dust shall lay;
When Priam's powers, and Priam's self shall fall,
And one prodigious ruin follow all.

Thereby denouncing the future destiny of Rome, as he himself confessed to Polybius, who desired Scipio to explain himself on that occasion. Carthage being taken in this manner, Scipio gave the plunder of it (the gold, silver, statues, and other offerings which should be found in the temples excepted) to his soldiers for seven days. After this, adorning a very small ship with the enemy's spoils, he sent it to Rome, with the news of the victory. At the same time he ordered the inhabitants of Sicily to come and take possession of the pictures and statues, which the Carthaginians had plundered them of in former wars.

When the news of the taking of Carthage was brought to Rome, the people abandoned themselves to the most immoderate transports of joy, as if the public tranquillity had not been secured till that instant. All ranks and degrees of men emulously strove who should show the greatest gratitude towards the gods; and the citizens were, for many days, employed wholly in solemn sacrifices, in public prayers, games, and spectacles.

After those religious duties were ended, the senate sent ten commissioners into Africa, to regulate, in conjunction with Scipio, the fate and condition of that country in times to come. Their first care was to demolish whatever was still remaining of Carthage: and we may guess at the dimensions of this famous city by what Florus says, viz., that it was seventeen days on fire before it could be all consumed. Rome, though mistress of almost the whole world, could not believe herself safe as long as even the name of Carthage was in being. Orders were given that it should never be inhabited again; and dreadful imprecations were denounced against those, who, contrary to this prohibition, should attempt to rebuild any parts of it. In the mean time, every one, who desired it, was admitted to see Carthage; Scipio being well pleased to have people view the sad ruins of a city, which had dared to contend for empire with the majesty of Rome.[180]

Commerce, strictly speaking, was the occupation of Carthage, the particular object of its industry, and its peculiar and predominant characteristic. It formed the greatest strength and the chief support of that commonwealth. In a word, it may be affirmed, that the power, the conquests, the credit, and the glory of the Carthaginians, all flowed from trade.