We may well be struck with admiration and astonishment, when we take a retrospective glance at the dignity and grandeur of the Roman Empire. Greater in extent and concentration than any kingdom of ancient or modern times, Virgil might well put those words in the mouth of Anchises, and feel that it was Rome's prerogative "to make the world obey." Truly might he sing, before Augustus, in language somewhat exaggerated, but in the main true, that Africa and India obeyed her power;-that her sway extended beyond the solar year, without the starry way, "where Atlas turns the rolling heav'ns around "--and then concluding with a bold personification of Nature, represent not only the Caspian Kingdoms, but the Mæotian Lake, as quaking with fear, while the Nile "hearing him knock at his seven-fold gates, seeks his hidden springs," and endeavors to flee from his terrible presence. As Augustus had now conquered all his enemies, and the nations lay prostrate and bleeding at his feet, he might well repose on his laurels and enjoy what Pindar calls, "the radiant splendours of Majestic Peace," and listen with complaceacy, while the poet rehearsed in his presence, that he was

"Born to restore a better age of gold."

But Virgil is not alone in thus recording the splendour and glory of Rome in her palmy days, as other poets and orators dwell frequently on that soul-stirring theme; the glory of their native land. Thus, the scholar may recollect, that Cicero, in his oration "Pro Domo Sua," calls the Roman people the conquerors and commanders of other na

VIRGIL.

tions, "Ille, ille populus est dominus regum, victor atque imperator omnium gentium." Not only in name, but in fact, had imperial Rome subjected the inhabitants of the burning South, the frozen regions of the North, along with the luxurious and enervated East, and mysterious Africa, with her torrid realms, her debilitating climate, her magnificent forests, her gigantic, strange, unheard of, and powerful animals, and her numerous and differently civilized inhabitants--differently civilized indeed, as, contrast Egypt, Ethiopia and Nubia. What a mighty power was this Egypt, with her wonderful Nile, her civilization and antiquity, extending beyond the limit of human thought, and confusing the mind, by an attempt to run back through the dim vista of years; her long line of kings and conquerors, her pyramids and catacombs, her tombs on which are built modern habitations, her lakes which cover ancient pyramids, her Mennonic harps, and her cities which might rival Rome itself in greatness. Take for instance, Alexandria, the abode of learned men, the seat of the schools of philosophy, the depositary of the famous library, known as the Alexandrian; the stronghold of Egypt, and of such importance that whoever made himself master of it might easily defy the power of Rome. Then the hundred-gated Thebes, and its magnificent ruins, which even in her decayed grandeur was worthy of . being the prey of imperial Rome. Lastly, this Egypt, the great corn country, the granary from which Rome drew her supplies, was considered by Augustus as sacred ground, on which neither senator or Roman Knight might tread without his permission; where the senate might

exercise no authority, but where the administration was kept entirely in his own hands, as his sagacity led him instantly to perceive that in a time of evil commotion, either a "choice master-spirit," or an ambitious and turbulent knight might easily gain possession of the mouth of the Nile, or the Isthmus of Suez, and defend them with an insignificant force. We might name other cities of Africa, and behold Carthage, which once competed with the mistress of the world, with her Hannibal, the greatest general of antiquity, whose sad fate brings tears into our eyes while we execrate the conqueror; and Palmyra, the city of the desert, whose name will ever be connected with the far-famed Zenobia, the sublime Longinus, and the conqueror Aurelian. These cities dared to dispute the authority of the mighty one, and fell bleeding and humbled at her feet. Asia, with her kingdoms of Assyria, Parthia, Mesopotamia and Armenia, were chained to her chariot wheels, and existed or sunk into annihilation according to her sovereign will. The frozen regions of the North belonged to her; the Celts, the Gauls, the Britons, were humbled and made Roman provinces, while she asserted her sway over the nations of Germany, and the regions of the Northern seas, and although our indomitable, and independent ancestors were never totally subdued, yet many of their kings and chieftains were made prisoners, and portions of their country passed under Roman dominion. Let no one object to the phrase, our ancestors, for though the Saxons are not mentioned by Tacitus, in his Germania, they doubtless existed in rude independence among the forests and fastnesses of Northern Germany. Reader! pause and contemplate the greatness of this mighty empire, and do not wonder that the writer of the above paragraph should feel enthusiastic on such a theme, or that he should indulge in rhapsody whilst contemplating the magnificence of the mighty past! The historian, Polybius, says that the Roman empire achieved its great deeds in fifty-three years, that in this space of time they reduced the habita

ble globe, and this period contains the whole progress and advancement of the Roman greatness.

The above remarks have been suggested by a perusal of the Cæsars of De Quincey. We thought this subject had been exhausted by Gibbon, Arnold, Merivale and Niebuhr, but we find our mistake in perusing this volume of De Quincey's; as the author has handled the subject in a different manner from those writers, almost inducing us to think with Bulwer, that, "history is rarely more than the biography of great men." The work, certainly, cannot be called a history taken in the common acceptation of the term, but is rather a philosophic essay, or a series of essays, and while it treats of the acts of the emperors in a succinct form and condensed manner, it takes a philosophic view of their conduct, attempts to account for their idiosyncrasies, their enormous wickedness, and expatiates in a style altogether unsuited to history. The author has also related many anecdotes which might be considered irrelevant to dignified history; for, as he remarks, while the public acts of the Cæsars have employed the pens of historians, and rendered them the most wonderful and interesting of studies, their private memorials, the secret springs of their conduct, have been suffered to lie in oblivion, and yet wonderful to relate, with the first of the Caesars commenced the anecdotal style of history. These sketches, or, biographical portraits, the author professes to have gleaned from Suetonius, and the writers of the Augus tan history. This work, the Augustan history, is the production of six authors, who wrote in the time of Diocletian, who was Roman Emperor from A. D., 284 to 305. The names of these six authors are said to be, lius Spartianus, Julius Capitolinus, Elius Lampridius, Vulca tius Gallicanus, Trebellius Pollio, and Flavius Vopiscus. It is a valuable collection, inasmuch as it gives the lives of those emperors of whom we have no other record. The narrations are indeed often confused and inaccurate, and we will not find in them purity of diction or elegance of style; the rare grace of a

Livy, or the energy of a Tacitus. But in this world we must take things as we find them, and with all their faults of style, they supply a missing link in the chain of history. De Quincey commences with a succinct review of the celebrated kingdoms of antiquity, and those of modern times, compares them with Rome, and decides that the imperial kingdom far exceeded any other either ancient or modern in extent and concentration. Julius Cæsar, the founder of the Cæsarian line, is of course the first in the list. He is evidently a favourite with our author, who considers both the city and the emperor as solitary and unique in their grandeur, or, to use his own words, "both were immortal and worthy of each other." We believe our author is not alone in his admiration of the character of Julius, as the first of the Cæsars has been a favourite with most authors. The fact is, they have been dazzled by his splendid military reputation, the colossal grandeur of his reputation, the freedom from everything petty or mean in his character; his numerous accomplishments, and the vastness of those works he both accomplished and designed. These have cast over his erring deeds a halo of glory and splendour, which blind our eyes to his crimes, and render us lenient to his faults. We forget his cruelty, and the immense sacrifice of life made during his sanguinary career. Turn to the historian, Arnold, and mark his words. "In his campaign in Gaul, he is said to have destroyed a million of men in battle, and to have made prisoners one million more, many of whom were destined to perish as Gladiators, and all were torn from their country, and reduced to slavery. The slaughter which he occasioned in the civil wars cannot be computed, nor can we estimate the degree of suffering caused in every part of the empire, by his spoliations and confiscations, and by the various acts of extortion and oppression which he tolerated in his followers." When we reflect on his sanguinary career and the glory that surrounded him, we may exclaim in the language of Addison's Cato, "curse on his virtues,

they've undone his country." De Quircey will not allow that he immolated the liberties of Rome at the shrine of ambition. This is his own individual opinion, he does not quote authorities or profess to be guided by others, but indulges in a style of characteristic declamation, as follows. "It is false to say, that with Cæsar came the destruction of Roman greatness, Peace, hollow rhetoricians, until the Cæsar came, Rome was a minor, by him she attained her majority and fulfilled her destiny. Caius Julius, you say, deflowered the virgin purity of her civil liberties, doubtless then Rome had arisen immaculate from the arms of Sylla and Marius." This simile is continued and sustained for two or three pages, and we must confess that it is not to our taste, being neither beautiful, delicate or appropriate. Throughout the whole range of heaven, earth or sea, could no other language or comparison be found to express the overthrow of the Republic?

Although we are deeply impressed with the splendid qualities of De Quincey as a writer, yet we cannot be insensible to his faults. Among others, we are struck with the dogmatical manner in which he asserts his peculiar views and his proneness to conjecture, as on pages 78 and 80, where he surmises as to the plans of Augustus Cæsar; and again on page 202, where he supposes Commodus died as a gladiator. The biographer or historian should never indulge in conjecture or surmise, but only deal in facts. One would suppose that some writers are omniscient, that their eyes are keen enough to behold the intents and purposes of a man's heart, and that they could pierce to its inmost depths. This conjecture and supposition may be very well for romance, but should be utterly exploded in history, as tending to falsify what should be strictly true. Even as facts stand, there is enough misrepresentation to make one exclaim with Sir Robert Walpole, "History must be false."

In the third chapter of this work, De Quincey endeavours to account for the monstrous atrocities and horrible wicked